“I should be more at the castle if I could be of service to his Grace or Lady Bride; but there is a sorrow upon which a stranger may not intrude, and at present I can call myself little else. In time I trust I may win my way there; but during these first days I believe the truest kindness is to keep away from them for the greater part of my time. And I have my own object to pursue, which is one that may not be ignored; for it is a duty, and I am resolved to do it to the utmost of my power.” Abner nodded his head in grave approval. “That is the way our duties should be tackled, sir. It is no good giving half our energies to them. We have our orders plain and simple--‘What thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.’” “Yes--just so,” answered Eustace, with a quick glance at the man, whose hands were still at work amongst his pots, even whilst he talked. He was in the potting-shed, pricking out a quantity of young seedlings; and although he gave intelligent heed to the words of the young gentleman before him, he continued his employment with scrupulous care and exactness. “By-the-bye, Tresithny,” Eustace suddenly interpolated, “aren’t you something of a preacher, by what they say? Don’t you hold meetings in St. Bride’s amongst the fisher-folk? I have heard something of it down amongst the people there.” “Well, sir,” answered Abner, “it isn’t so to say a service; but we’ve got men-folk down there as will not enter the doors of a church, do what you will; and though they be good enough friends with the Rev. Tremodart when he comes down on the bit of a quay to chat with them, they won’t go to church, and he’s too wise, may be, to try and force them. But they’ll sometimes come of a Sunday evening to Dan Denver’s cottage, and listen whilst I read them a chapter and talk it over afterwards. Some days they don’t seem to have much to say, and leaves it most to me, and then it du seem to them almost like a bit of a sermon. But that’s not what I mean it to be. I want to get them to think and talk as well.” The young man’s eyes suddenly flashed, and he took up the word with suppressed eagerness. “Ah! Tresithny, that’s just it! That’s the very pith of the whole matter. You and I ought to be friends. We both want to rouse the people to think. If we could do that--how much could be achieved!” “Ay, indeed it could, sir. There be times when it seems as though it would be as easy to get the brute beast of the field to think, as it is to rouse them up to do it. And yet they have all immortal souls, though they care no more what becomes of them than the beasts that perish. Think of it!--think of it!”