"Not at present," said the clergyman, still keeping up his reserve, but all the time feeling, in spite of himself, drawn towards his travelling-companion. "I am a stranger here." "I hope we shall be strangers no longer. Beautiful country, is it not?" "Ye-es. Very picturesque," said the clergyman, gazing vacantly around, the other watching him in an amused way, as, after letting his eyes rest for a few moments on the beautiful expanse of rocky hill, shady ravine, and glistening sea, he once more raised his book and went on reading. "Books always, and not men's minds," muttered Geoffrey Trethick. Then, bending forwards, he once more engaged the coachman in conversation, to the clergyman's great relief; and, putting a set of leading questions, he drew from the driver all the information he could about the neighbourhood and its people, the man finishing with,-- "Ah, sir, it's as fine and good a country as any in England, if it wasn't for the adventurers, and they about ruin it." "Indeed!" said the young man, with the air of being once more very much amused; and then the coach drew up at the door of the principal inn. There was a little bustle, and the occupants of the various seats climbed down, luggage was handed out of the boots, and the two travellers stood together on the rough paving-stones. "Take my portmanteau in, boots," said Trethick, sharply. "Do you breakfast here at the hotel, Mr Lee?" "Sir," said the clergyman, distantly, "I have not yet made my plans." "Oh! all right; no offence. I was going to say, let us breakfast together for company. I'm off to present my letters of introduction. Good-day; I dare say we shall meet again." "I hope not," thought the Reverend Edward Lee, upon whom his travelling-companion seemed to act like a strong blast, bending him bodily and mentally as well, and he turned into the hotel, hearing, as he did so, the voice of one of the hangers-on exclaiming, in a sing-song tone,-- "Mr Penwynn's, An Morlock, sir? Right up street, and out by the hill I'll show you the way." "Thanks; no, my lad, I shall find it. Catch!" There was the ring of a small piece of silver falling upon the pavement, and the young clergyman sighed with relief to think his travelling-companion had gone. CHAPTER THREE. THE CARNAC GAZETTE. Rhoda Penwynn's visitor was in the drawing-room at An Morlock, making the most use possible of her eyes while she was alone. She had seen who had called and left cards, and what book Rhoda was reading. She had also mentally taken the pattern of the new design of embroidery, and meant to work a piece exactly the same; and now she was filling up the time before Rhoda entered by gazing at herself in one of the large mirrors.