Evelyn Everett-Green - The Lost Treasure of Trevlyn - A Story of the Days of the Gunpowder Plot

A tall young man of some five-and-twenty summers, with the regular Trevlyn features and a pair of honest gray eyes, was standing out on the terrace with his face towards the red sky, a couple of sporting dogs frisking joyously about him, as if hoping he was bent upon a stroll in the woods. By his side stood a tall slim maiden, bright faced and laughing eyed, straight as a dart, alert and graceful in her movements, with an expression of courage and resolution on her fair face that stamped it at once with a strong individuality of its own. She was dressed simply, though in soft and rich textures, as became her station, and she held her hood in her hands, leaving her ruffled curly hair to be the sport of the light night breeze. She had very delicate features and an oval face, and from the likeness that existed between them the pair were plainly brother and sister.

Just within the open window were two more girls, dressed in the same fashion as the first, and plainly her sisters, though they were more blonde in type, and whilst very pretty, lacked the piquant originality that was the great characteristic of the dark girl's beauty. They were not quite so tall, and the elder of the blonde pair was not nearly so slim, but had something of womanly deliberation and dignity about her. She was plainly the eldest of the three sisters, as the little maid beside her was the youngest. All three were engrossed in some sort of talk that appeared full of interest for them.

"I wish he would not do it," said Philip, turning his eyes in an easterly direction, towards a hollow in the falling ground, where the ruins of the ancient wall could still be dimly traced. The old Gate House itself could not be seen from this side of the house, but it was plain that the thoughts of all had turned in that direction. "It is brave of him to obey his conscience rather than his father; but yon man is such a veritable tiger, that I fear me there will be dark work there betwixt them if the lad provoke him too far. Nicholas Trevlyn is not one to be defied with impunity. I would that Cuthbert had as much prudence as he has courage."

"So do not I," answered Kate quickly, turning her flashing eyes full upon her brother. "I hate prudence-the prudence of cowardice! I am right glad that Cuthbert thinks first of his conscience and second of his father's wrath. What man who ever lived to do good in the world was deterred from the right by craven fears? I honour him for his single mindedness. He is a bold youth, and I would fain help him an I could see the way."

"We would all gladly do that," answered Philip; "the hard thing being to find the way."

"We shall find it anon, I doubt not," answered Kate. "Things cannot go on ever as they are now."

"No; methinks one day we may chance to hear that the old Papist has done his son to death in a fit of blind fury. Then perhaps, my sister, thou wilt join with me in wishing that the lad had shown more regard for his stern sire's word."

"Nay, Philip, sure thou fearest too much," spoke Cecilia from her station beside the window. "Nicholas Trevlyn may be a dark and sour man, but he scarce would lift a hand against his own flesh and blood! I cannot believe it of any father."

"Fathers of his type have done as bad ere now," answered Philip, with gravity, "and there is no bigot like the Papist bigot, who is soured and embittered by persecution himself. Cuthbert has told me things ere this which show what an iron soul his father's is. He believes that he would wring the neck of little Petronella sooner than see her turn out of the path of unreasoning Papistry in which he has brought her up," and Philip's face darkened suddenly as he turned it towards his sisters.

"But sure the King would protect them if he knew," said Bessie, the youngest of the sisters. "Why, the law bids all loyal subjects go to church, and punishes those who stay away. The King would be sorely angry, would he not, were he to hear that any man dared use force to hinder his children from going."

Kate's delicate lips curved into a smile of derision, and Philip shrugged his broad shoulders.

"The King, my dear Bessie, is naught but a miserable pedant, who loves nothing so well as hearing himself talk, and prating by the hour together on matters of law and religion, and on the divine right of kings. He is not the King such as England has been wont to know-a King to whom his subjects might gain access to plead his protection and ask his aid. I trow none but a fool would strive to win a smile from the Scottish James. He is scarce a man, by all we hear, let alone a King. I sometimes think scorn of us as a nation that we so gladly and peaceably put our necks beneath the sceptre of such an atomy. Sure had the Lady Arabella but been a man, we should scarce have welcomed so gladly this son of Mary Stuart as our monarch."

"Have a care, my children, and talk not rank treason in such open fashion," said a deep voice behind them, and the daughters started to see the tall form of their father in the room behind them. "We Trevlyns are none too safe from suspicion that we need endanger ourselves wilfully. Whatever else James Stuart may be, he has shown that he means to be a monarch as absolute as any who have gone before him. Wherefore it behoves us to be cautious even in the sanctuary of this peaceful home.

"What is the matter, Kate, that thou art thus scornful towards his majesty? In what has he offended thee, my saucy princess?"

As Kate stepped within the room, followed by her brother, it was plain from the lighting of her father's eyes that she was the favourite daughter with him. He laid his hand lightly on her shoulder, and she stood up close beside him, her bright face upraised, a saucy gleam in her eyes, and both her attitude and bearing bespoke an affectionate confidence between father and child less common in those ceremonious days than it has since become.

"Father, we were talking of Cuthbert. Did you see him at church today? He was there both in the morning and the afternoon."

"I thought I saw him. I was not sure. I am glad his father has had the sense to relent thus far with him."

"But he has not relented," answered Kate quickly. "Cuthbert comes in defiance of his commands; and Philip says he misdoubts if his father may not do him some grievous bodily harm in his rage and fury. Bessie did ask if the King would not interfere to save him;" and then Kate broke off with her rippling, saucy laugh. "I was just answering that question when you came. But sure, father, something might be done for him. It is a cruel thing for a boy to be treated as he is treated, and all for striving to obey the law of the land."

Sir Richard Trevlyn stood in silent thought awhile. He was a fine-looking man, with a thoughtful, benevolent countenance, and eyes that Kate had inherited. He had known something of peril and trouble himself in his day, and could feel for the troubles of others. But he also knew the difficulties of dealing with such a man as his kinsman Nicholas; and without bringing him to the notice of the authorities as a concealed Papist-an idea repugnant to him where one of his own name and blood was concerned-it was difficult to see what could be done for the protection of the hapless Cuthbert and his sister.

Sir Richard Trevlyn did not wish to draw public attention upon himself. It was his desire to live as quietly and privately as possible. The Trevlyns had been for many generations a family stanch to the doctrines and traditions of the Church of Rome, and they had won for themselves that kind of reputation which clings tenaciously to certain families even when it has ceased to be a fact. The present Sir Richard's father had broken through the traditions of his race in marrying a lady of the Reformed faith. It was a love match, and all other considerations went to the winds. The lady was no theologian, and though believing all she had been taught, had no horror of Popery or of her husband's creed. They had lived happily together in spite of their respective opinions; but either through the influence of his wife, or through other causes less well understood, Sir Richard the elder in his later life became gradually weaned from the old faith, and embraced that of his wife. Some said this was done from motives of policy, since Elizabeth was on the throne, and the edicts against Papists, though only rigidly enforced by fits and starts, were always in existence, and had been the ruin of many ancient families. However that may have been, the only son of this union had been trained up a Protestant, and had brought up his own children as members of the Established Church of the land.