Tranquillized by the reflection, Randolph returned through the deepening twilight to the castle, and joined his sister and the chaplain in a small parlour, occupying a turret that overlooked the sea. It was a favourite room. There, in the evening, Polydore described at some length the state of the adjacent country. "Discontent," he said, "was very general; not only among the miners, who thought they did not earn a just share of their labour's produce, but also among the agricultural population, who complained that wages were too low in proportion to the price of provisions. And social dissatisfaction had partly assumed the aspect of political disaffection. Agitators, strangers to the district, were said to have gone about among the people. Minor outrages had not been very rare, and expressions had been reported nearly equivalent to the 'Guerre aux Châteaux' of the great French Revolution. Musters of men in military array were said to have been held on the moorlands. Rumours flew about of the landing of arms on different parts of the coast. But all," Polydore concluded, "is vague and shadowy. I believe there is great exaggeration abroad. Positive, however, it is, that a patrol of cavalry occasionally dashes at speed by a lonely cottage, and that the coast-guard display unwonted activity. Behold the confirmation of my words!" For while they were being uttered, his hearers might see a long line of fire rise into the air from the shore of the bay near Mousehole, denoting the flight of a rocket. "That is the way they amuse us almost every night," continued the chaplain. "'Tis too dark, I suppose, to see anything afloat. Let us put the candles in the shade, and look." So said, so done. Fruitlessly, for they could discover nothing on the dark waters. But while they were gazing across the bay, a faint, rushing sound fell on their ear, above the noise of the sea; and, turning hastily, they perceived the last sparks of a second rocket, which had been fired from their own coast. "Yes, that is the way," Polydore repeated. "Of old, the folks would just have wished the smuggler luck, and perhaps turned out in hope to run a keg or so; but they seem to think there's more in these signals now." "And you feel no alarm yourself, my dear sir?" Helen inquired. "None, Helen," replied the chaplain. "I may be mistaken, but I do not expect to see Jeffrey's blunderbuss brought into action; and I have a trust which never yet proved wanting." So saying, Polydore rang the bell, a summons which speedily assembled all the household for family prayer, according to old usage; and when the rite was over, the members sought their respective resting-places, and silence reigned in the castle.