"'No,' said my father, 'I can never forgive the man who stole from me the woman I loved.'
"'But,' said the vicar. 'Trewinion's curse cannot be removed while unforgiveness is in your heart.'
"My father looked at the blue light on the table, and then said, 'I'll try and say the Lord's Prayer.' He went steadily until he came to the words, 'Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us.'"
"'I can't say the words,' he groaned.
"'Say them with all your heart and the curse will be taken away,' said the vicar.
"My father tried again and succeeded, and no sooner had he done so than the light changed and a holy calm rested upon us all.
"'It's gone,' said my father. 'May God bless you, Roger, and do you never forget the Trewinion's warning.'
"By this he meant the lines we have been reading.
"'I will never forget, father,' I said, and soon after he died happily."
My father left me then, placing in my hands the old nurse's lines. For a long time I mused over what he had said, and wondered about my grandfather's death-bed scene. Was it as my father had said? Was it Trewinion's curse that rested upon him? I began to think of what the vicar, my schoolmaster, had told us only the day before—that every sin brought a curse, brought misery, brought remorse, and while sin or unforgiveness was cherished in our hearts we could not realise happiness or forgiveness. Was this the case with my grandfather, or was my father's belief right?