But the upshot
is, they're goin' to pay us a Visitation to-morrow, by surprise. And,
if only for the parish credit, we'll be even wid um, by dad!"
St. Piran still lapsed into his native brogue when strongly excited.
But he had hardly done when Andrew Penhaligon came running in--
"St. Piran, honey, I've searched everywhere; an' be hanged to me if I
can find the church at all!"
"Fwhat's become av ut?" cried the saint, sitting up sharply.
"How should I know? But devil a trace can I see!"
"Now, look here," St. Piran said; "the church was there, right
enough."
"That's a true word," spoke up an old man, "for I mind it well. An
elegant tower it had, an' a shingle roof."
"Spake up, now," said the saint, glaring around; "fwich av ye's gone
an' misbestowed me parush church? For I won't believe," he said, "that
it's any worse than carelussness--at laste, not yet-a-bit."
Some remembered the church, and some did not: but the faces of all
were clear of guilt. They trooped out on the sands to search.
Now, the sands by Perranzabuloe are for ever shifting and driving
before the northerly and nor'-westerly gales; and in time had heaped
themselves up and covered the building out of sight.
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