“You know what we mean, and why we want you to go, well enough,” was his reply.
I assured him that I did not; and begged him so earnestly to enlighten me, that he stopped as he was walking away.
“I’ll tell you about it,” he said; “but not now; I don’t want to be seen with you.” (As he spoke he looked back at the women, who were appearing once more in front of their cottages.) “Go home again, and shut yourself up; I’ll come at dusk.”
And he came as he had promised. But when I asked him to enter my cottage, he declined, and said he would talk to me outside, at my window. This disinclination to be under my roof, reminded me that my supplies of food had, for the last week, been left on the window-ledge, instead of being brought into my room as usual. I had been too constantly occupied to pay much attention to the circumstance at the time; but I thought it very strange now.
“Do you mean to tell me you don’t suspect why we want to get you out of our place here?” said the man, looking in distrustfully at me through the window.
I repeated that I could not imagine why they had all changed towards me, or what wrong they thought I had done them.
“Then I’ll soon let you know it,” he continued. “We want you gone from here, because—”
“Because,” interrupted another voice behind him, which I recognised as his wife’s, “because you’re bringing a blight on us, and our houses—because we want our children’s faces left as God made them—”
“Because,” interposed a second woman, who had joined her, “you’re bringing devil’s vengeances among Christian people! Come back, John! he’s not safe for a true man to speak to.”
They dragged the fisherman away with them before he could say another word. I had heard enough. The fatal truth burst at once on my mind. Mannion had followed me to Cornwall: his threats were executed to the very letter!