"
Off ran Andrew Penhaligon. "But, blessed father of us," said one or
two, "we're all _here_! There's no call to ring the church bell, seem'
you're neither dead nor afire, blessamercy!"
"Oh, if you're all here, that alters the case; for 'tis only a
proclamation I have to give out at present. To-morrow mornin'--Glory
be to God!--I give warnin' that Divine service will take place in the
parish church."
"You're sartin you bain't feelin' poorly, St. Piran dear?" asked one
of the women.
"Thank you, Tidy Mennear, I'm enjoyin' health. But, as I was sayin',
the parish church 'll be needed to-morrow, an' so you'd best set to
and clean out the edifice: for I'm thinkin'," he added, "it'll be
needin' that."
"To be sure, St. Piran dear, we'll humour ye."
"'Tisn' that at all," the saint answered; "but I've had a vision."
"Don't you often?"
"H'm! but this was a peculiar vision; or maybe a bit of a birdeen
whispered it into my ear. Anyway, 'twas revealed to me just now in a
dream that I stood on the lawn at Bodmin Priory, and peeped in at the
Priory window.
Pages:
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90