beneath His sheltering wing. "The Lord shall keep thee from all evil, it is even He that shall keep thy soul." The sermon over, the little congregation began to disperse. Arthur, who was still apprehensive of danger from the pressgang, had marked two or three members of his congregation whom he thought would be likely victims. Among these was Philip Tresilian; a strong healthy fisher lad of seventeen was just the sort of fellow the rough gang would be likely to seize. Moreover, he knew that Philip and his father had enemies ready enough to denounce him to the men who were collecting forced recruits for His Majesty's Navy. But there was another man in church, the father of a family, who had served some years in a merchant vessel, a good and able seaman, who had latterly begun to lead a steady life, and came regularly to church, this man Arthur thought was very likely to be pressed, so he was anxious to put him on his guard. He meant to catch both him and Philip before they had time to get far from the building, and hurried out of the vestry after them. He succeeded in overtaking David Abbott, who was walking quietly homeward to Sennen Cove with his wife and family; but while he was talking to him Philip escaped him, having gone on quickly with his father and sister. Abbott was very grateful to Arthur for his caution; as there seemed no means by which he could get a legal protection against impressment, he said he would walk off into the interior, some way from the coast, and spend the night at the house of a married sister who lived at a lonely farm, which the pressgang were not at all likely to discover. 66 Arthur now determined to go to the Cove and to Tresilian's cottage. His intention was to take Philip home with him. At his father's house he knew he would be quite safe, and there he would keep him till all danger was passed. However, man proposes, God disposes." Just as Arthur had taken leave of David Abbott, a girl ran up to him, and implored him to come at once to see her mother, who was at the point of death. Arthur dared not delay so sacred a duty, and he had now to turn back to Sennen village. Here we must leave him for the present, while we follow the fortunes of Philip Tresilian. The three walked quietly home from church to their cottage by the sea-shore. Owen perceived the cutter, but took no particular notice of it. He sat down with his family to their frugal meal. That finished, he handed down the big Bible to Mary, and she, as was her usual custom on Sunday afternoon when there was no service at church, read out of it to her father and brother. This lasted for about an hour. All the time Philip was restless and ill at ease. The fact was, that good and evil were struggling within him; he was hesitating between duty and inclination. As he was going to church in the morning, two lads of his acquaintance had said to him, "It's a pity, Philip, after being at church all the morning, that you should shut yourself up for the whole afternoon; come out for a stroll with us along the shore, then we'll have a bathe and a swimming race round the point, the sea's so smooth, it's just the day for it!" The proposal was a tempting one; but those who made it were lads who did not bear the best of characters. Philip hesitated. It was hard to say No. It always is to refuse what is pleasant, and harder still when mockery and ridicule are likely to follow the refusal. "Come, Philip," said the elder of the two, "we'll be quits,-Bob and I'll go to church this morning for a change, if you'll come along with us in the afternoon. What d'ye say to that?" "Well, I'm sure the parson will be glad to see you in church, Dick; but as to this afternoon "Come, come, don't be a fool, Philip, what's the harm of taking a walk along the shore, and having a bathe? I don't believe your friend the parson would even object; besides, it's a bargain; if we go to church this morning, the least you can do is to go with us this afternoon." "Very well, Dick, I will if I can, but mind you, I can't quite promise." "Stuff and nonsense, Phil; you'll come, I know; the matter's settled, we'll say no more about it. Come along to church, Bob." The two young fellows kept their promise and went to church. Arthur had perceived them there with surprise and pleasure. Dick tried to go to sleep, but Bob was very attentive and well-behaved during the whole service. Now Philip's mind was occupied during the afternoon, while his sister was reading, thinking about his half promise to go with these lads. He knew they were not just the sort of fellows the parson would like to see him with, and especially on a Sunday afternoon; and he thought too of all he had said to him yesterday about the effects of bad com pany; on the other hand, just for once, it surely could not matter, and it was such a fine bright warm afternoon, and the sea so smooth, perhaps he mightn't have another chance so good for a long time. Yes, he would go. He looked out of the window, and saw Bob and Dick waiting for him on the beach; that settled him at once. He took his cap off the peg and was going to the door, when Mary said to him, "What are you going out, Phil? Can't you stay a little longer, and then I should like to go with you, after I have read father one more story." "No, Mary, I can't wait any longer; it's such a fine day, I'm going for a walk, and shall go much farther and faster than you are able." "I'm sorry you won't wait for me, Phil," said his sister reproachfully; "I was thinking this morning what a nice ramble we might have together this afternoon, and I could gather a nosegay of wild flowers, which I have not done once this spring. "I'll go with you next Sunday, Mary, I can't to-day, I'm in a hurry now, so good-bye." And he rushed out of the door, and down to the beach. "You shall come with me, Mary," said her father kindly. "I'll go out with you whichever way you like." "Thank you, father," said Mary. "I wonder what Phil is up to. He seemed so determined to go out; he isn't often like that." She went to look out of the window and then continued, "Oh! there he is, yonder, walking along between two lads of about his size; one is Dick Evans, I know, but I can't make out who the other is." 66 "Dick Evans!" exclaimed her father, a very bad companion for Philip; I don't like that at all, Mary, the boy's not as he used to be; he'll be led astray at last I'm afraid, and get into bad ways, and become like the rest of the young fellows here." "Oh, don't say so, father. Think how mother used to pray for him when she was alive." "And we pray for him too, I hope, Mary," said Owen. Philip didn't feel comfortable as he left the cottage, and walked quickly down to the beach. But he had no presentiment of what was in store for him; he little thought of the fatal consequences of that Sunday afternoon walk, and of the important influence it was to have on his future life. The plot had been schemed the night before in the |