Magdalen belonged to a good Devonshire family, which had sent more than one confessor to the rack and the stake in the time of Queen Mary, and had borne a good share in the naval exploits by which the men of Devon rendered themselves famous during the next glorious reign. Magdalen herself was a woman of a grave and earnest spirit, scrupulously exact in the performance of all daily duties, kind and considerate to those about her, and thoroughly imbued with that spirit of religious devotion which had sustained her great-grandmother amid the fires of Smithfield. She had two children. Jack was a sturdy boy of twelve, with a great aptitude for fishing, birds'-nesting, and riding on horseback, and an equal disinclination for learning of any sort, together with a marvellous capacity for tearing his clothes, blackening his eyes, and getting into scrapes generally. Winifred was nearly three years older, and very much resembled her mother, both in mind and person. Master Evans had been in no way concerned in the Rebellion. He was not given to politics at any time, and he looked upon the Duke of Monmouth's adventure with equal dislike and contempt. He was a constant and devout church-goer, and even his great high-tory neighbor, Sir Edward Peckham, could find no other fault with him than that he dispensed his charities to churchman and dissenter alike, which however was equally true of the vicar of the parish and the Bishop of Bath and Wells, the learned and excellent Doctor Ken. But it did not follow of course that Master Evans was in no danger during the bloody proscription which followed the battle of Sedgemoor. A great many persons as innocent as himself had been put to death by the monster Jeffreys and the almost equally wicked soldiers Kirke and Faversham. He could not go to the parish church on Sunday without seeing over the porch the ghastly head of his kind old neighbor and friend Master Oldmixon, who had been hung for no other crime than that of having been in Bridgewater bargaining for the sale of his cheese on the day before the battle, and taking off his hat to the Duke of Monmouth as he passed by. Another neighbor had sold eggs and cider to certain of the duke's officers, and for this offence he was hung in chains at his own house-door. But Master Evans had thus far escaped persecution, and as he was not rich enough to excite the covetousness of the king's officers, he began to hope he should go entirely free.