The Birthright

by Joseph Hocking

Indeed, within a week from the time when I took Mr. Penryn to Pennington, it was rumoured that Naomi had overcome her objection to Nick Tresidder, and that, owing to her father's wishes, she had consented to be his wife.

There seemed nothing that I could do, yet I would not go away; nay, I could not. I was chained to St. Eve; and although I knew I was in danger from Captain Jack and his gang, I heeded not. Tamsin Truscott, I discovered, was slowly recovering, and it was to her, I suspect, that I owed my safety.

I tried many times to gain an audience with Naomi's father, and in this also I was unsuccessful. He refused to hold any intercourse with me, and this embittered me all the more, because, even if he regarded me as the merest stranger, I had tried to be a friend to him and his. I tried to excuse him, and thus gain hope by saying that he was busily engaged in the affairs of his estate; but all the same my heart was very weary and sad in those days, especially as every one seemed to shun me. No one would befriend me; no one gave me a kind or helpful word.

At that time all hopes of getting back Pennington died out of my heart. Up to now I had comforted myself with the idea that I should at some time obtain the means to fulfil the conditions of my grandfather's will. Pennington was a valuable estate, and ignorant as I was, there seemed no way of getting the money; for be it known, in those days money was scarce in the country, none of the families for many miles around had more than they needed, and even had I many friends among the so-called wealthy, and had they been willing to advance the necessary money, I doubt whether they could have done so. But I had no friends. Richard Tresidder had poisoned the minds of all against me, so that the possibility of my raising many thousands of pounds was out of the question.

And what almost maddened me was the thought that John Penryn should have so willingly played into the hands of my enemies, that he should so easily have been deceived by those who were using him only as a means to their own safety and aggrandisement.

Then one day a light came into my sky in the shape of a message from Naomi's father, asking me to meet him in the copse above Granfer Fraddam's cave. At first I suspected treachery, but I determined to go. If any one had wanted to do me bodily harm plenty of chances had been offered since I returned from my perilous adventure to the Scilly Isles. Indeed, I did not much care what became of me, for when hope is gone all is gone.

So I went to the copse before the time mentioned, and this was at ten o'clock in the morning. As I have before stated, this was a lonely place, only one cottage being near, and altogether shielded from the gaze of men. As I said, I was early at the meeting-place, and I looked eagerly around for Naomi's father, but no one was there. I waited until after ten o'clock, and still no one came.

"This is but a ruse," I said bitterly; "this message came only to mock me as others have come;" but even as this thought flashed through my mind I heard the sound of footsteps on the frozen leaves, and turning I saw, not John Penryn, but my love.

At first I was almost overcome at the sight of her, for I feared lest something terrible should have happened to bring her instead of her father, so I stood looking at her like one bereft of his senses.