CHAPTERPAGE
I.MORWELL[1]
II.THE LITTLE MOTHER[9]
III.THE WHISH-HUNT[16]
IV.EVE’S RING[22]
V.THE LIMPING HORSE[31]
VI.A BUNDLE OF CLOTHES[35]
VII.A NIGHT-WATCH[44]
VIII.BAB[51]
IX.THE POCKET-BOOK[57]
X.BARBARA’S PETITION[65]
XI.GRANTED![71]
XII.CALLED AWAY[80]
XIII.MR. BABB AT HOME[86]
XIV.A SINE QUÂ NON[93]
XV.AT THE QUAY[100]
XVI.WATT[107]
XVII.FORGET-ME-NOT![113]
XVIII.DISCOVERIES[121]
XIX.BARBARA’S RING[127]
XX.PERPLEXITY[132]
XXI.THE SCYTHE OF TIME[138]
XXII.THE RED STREAK[146]
XXIII.A BUNCH OF ROSES[152]
XXIV.WHERE THEY WITHERED[159]
XXV.LEAH AND RACHEL[165]
XXVI.AN IMP OF DARKNESS[172]
XXVII.POOR MARTIN[179]
XXVIII.FATHER AND SON[186]
XXIX.HUSH-MONEY[193]
XXX.BETRAYAL[199]
XXXI.CALLED TO ACCOUNT[205]
XXXII.WANDERING LIGHTS[212]
XXXIII.THE OWLS[219]
XXXIV.THE DOVES[226]
XXXV.THE ALARM BELL[232]
XXXVI.CONFESSIONS[239]
XXXVII.THE PIPE OF PEACE[246]
XXXVIII.TAKEN![251]
XXXIX.GONE![258]
XL.ANOTHER SACRIFICE[265]
XLI.ANOTHER MISTAKE[271]
XLII.ENGAGED[277]
XLIII.IN A MINE[283]
XLIV.TUCKERS[290]
XLV.DUCK AND GREEN PEAS[296]
XLVI.‘PRECIOSA’[302]
XLVII.NOAH’S ARK[308]
XLVIII.IN PART[316]
XLIX.THE OLD GUN[322]
L.BY THE FIRE[328]
LI.A SHOT[334]
LII.THE WHOLE[340]
LIII.BY LANTERN-LIGHT[347]
LIV.ANOTHER LOAD[354]
LV.WHAT EVERY FOOL KNOWS[357]

EVE.

[CHAPTER I.]

MORWELL.

The river Tamar can be ascended by steamers as far as Morwell, one of the most picturesque points on that most beautiful river. There also, at a place called ‘New Quay,’ barges discharge their burdens of coal, bricks, &c., which thence are conveyed by carts throughout the neighbourhood. A new road, admirable as one of those of Napoleon’s construction in France, gives access to this quay—a road constructed at the outlay of a Duke of Bedford, to whom belongs all the land that was once owned by the Abbey of Tavistock. This skilfully engineered road descends by zigzags from the elevated moorland on the Devon side of the Tamar, through dense woods of oak and fir, under crags of weathered rock wreathed with heather. From the summit of the moor this road runs due north, past mine shafts and ‘ramps,’ or rubble heaps thrown out of the mines, and meets other roads uniting from various points under the volcanic peak of Brent Tor, that rises in solitary dignity out of the vast moor to the height of twelve hundred feet, and is crowned by perhaps the tiniest church in England.

Seventy or eighty years ago no such roads existed. The vast upland was all heather and gorse, with tracks across it. An old quay had existed on the river, and the ruins remained of the buildings about it erected by the abbots of Tavistock; but quay and warehouses had fallen into decay, and no barges came so far up the river.

The crags on the Devon side of the Tamar rise many hundred feet in sheer precipices, broken by gulfs filled with oak coppice, heather, and dogwood.