"But, hark! 'tis the signal from home now to sever—
O'er ruin Tregagel is howling his glee:
Farewell to Trevethlan! A farewell for ever!
Farewell to the towers that stand by the sea!"
The last note of Helen's song had some time died away, and the sun had sunk behind the hill; but the western sky was still ruddy, and the warm tint still lingered on the moorlands.
"Surely, my dear sister," Randolph said, with a gentle smile, "your song is not of good omen for our exile."
"Oh! yes," Helen answered quickly; "recollect that Reginald survived the Revolution, and ended his days happily at Trevethlan."
"'T was a long banishment, Helen," observed her brother. "But the sun has set. Let us return to the castle."
And, making not a few pauses, they pursued the path homewards.
CHAPTER V.
"Then hope grew round me like the twining vine,
And fruits and foliage, not my own, seemed mine."