Resuming our peregrinations 'in search of the picturesque,' we now bid farewell to the county-town of Pembroke. At Hobb's Point a grimy little steamboat, that years ago plied on the Thames, ferries the traveller across to the railway pontoon at New Milford, whence we entrain _en route_ for Haverfordwest. Rail and river keep company for a time through a pleasant, undulating country, with copsewood feathering down to the water's edge. Presently we pass close to Rosemarket, a primitive-looking village where, in the days of the Stuarts, dwelt a certain fair maid named Lucy Walters. [Illustration: LUCY WALTERS.] Here at the age of seventeen 'that browne, beautifull, bold but insipid creature,' as Evelyn calls her, was discovered by the gay Prince Charlie, who was so fascinated by the young lady's charms that he bore her away with him in his cavalcade. Lucy's grandfather it is said constructed a fine genealogical tree, in which that gay lady figures as 'married to King Charles ye Seconde of England.' The house where Lucy Walters' father lived has long since disappeared, the only relics of that period being probably the old stone pigeon-house east of the village, and the parish cockpit! Our sketch of the famous beauty is copied from a contemporary portrait, brought from Dale Castle, whither the Walters family removed from their earlier home. It is now in the possession of a gentleman residing near Pembroke, who has kindly allowed us to make the accompanying copy. The next station is Johnston, where we will break our journey and take a peep at the church, whose steeple we descry as the train approaches the station. The little structure stands, with a few cottages grouped around it, at a corner of the lanes; and its gray, time-worn stones make a pretty picture amidst their setting of fresh green foliage. At the western end of the church rises a small but ancient tower, with roof fast falling to decay. The lower part is solid, but towards the top it is pierced with a quartette of graceful, traceried windows, of which three have been blocked up; while the only bell the church could boast lies broken in two on the stone floor. Small as it is, the church has shallow projecting bays, or chapels, after the manner of double transepts. Between them rises the chancel arch, devoid of features save a quaint, square-headed opening on either side, enclosing two small pointed arches. [Illustration: JOHNSTON CHURCH.] The interior, with its two-decker pulpit, simple box-pews and ancient font, has a quiet, old-world look; and the chancel, raised one step only above the body of the church, contains a double sedilia, a small piscina and a few other early features.