Produced by Martin Robb The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot by Evelyn Everett-Green. Chapter 1: The Inmates Of The Old Gate House. Chapter 2: The Inmates Of Trevlyn Chase. Chapter 3: The Lost Treasure. Chapter 4: A Night On Hammerton Heath. Chapter 5: The House On The Bridge. Chapter 6: Martin Holt's Supper Party. Chapter 7: The Life Of A Great City. Chapter 8: Cuthbert And Cherry Go Visiting. Chapter 9: The Wise Woman. Chapter 10: The Hunted Priest. Chapter 11: The Lone House On The River. Chapter 12: May Day In The Forest. Chapter 13: The Gipsy's Tryst. Chapter 14: Long Robin. Chapter 15: Petronella. Chapter 16: The Pixies' Dell. Chapter 17: Brother And Sister. Chapter 18: "Saucy Kate." Chapter 19: The Cross Way House. Chapter 20: How It Fared With Cherry. Chapter 21: The Gipsy's Warning. Chapter 22: Whispers Abroad. Chapter 23: Peril For Trevlyn. Chapter 24: Kate's Courage. Chapter 25: "On The Dark Flowing River." Chapter 26: Jacob's Devotion. Chapter 27: Yuletide At The Cross Way House. Chapter 1: The Inmates Of The Old Gate House. "Dost defy me to my face, sirrah?" "I have no desire to defy you, father, but--" "But me no 'buts,' and father me no 'fathers,'" stormed the angry old man, probably quite unconscious of the Shakespearian smack of his phrase; "I am no father to heretic spawn--a plague and a curse be on all such! Go to, thou wicked and deceitful boy; thou wilt one day bitterly rue thy evil practices. Thinkest thou that I will harbour beneath my roof one who sets me at open defiance; one who is a traitor to his house and to his faith?" A dark flush had risen in the face of the tall, slight youth, with the thoughtful brow and resolute mouth, as his father's first words fell upon his ears, and throwing back his head with a haughty gesture, he said: "I am not deceitful. You have no call to taunt me with that vice which I despise above all others. I have never used deceit towards you. How could you have known I had this day attended the service of the Established Church had I not told you so myself?" The veins on the old man's forehead stood out with anger; he brought his fist heavily down on the table, with a bang that caused every vessel thereon to ring. A dark-eyed girl, who was listening in mute terror to the stormy scene, shrank yet more into herself at this, and cast an imploring look upon the tall stripling whose face her own so much resembled; but his fiery eyes were on his father's face, and he neither saw nor heeded the look.