my father's memory, not a word of this writing must be breathed to my
mother, or to Kitty, or to any human creature. You agree in this?"

"I don't know what they'll think of us below," said the captain, "but for
certain I can't oppose it. Now, as to tracing. How will you do?"

They both, as by consent, bent over the paper again, and again carefully
puzzled out the whole of the writing.

"I make out that this would stand, if all the writing was here, 'Inquire
among the old men living there, for'--some one. Most like, you'll go to
this village named here?" said the captain, musing, with his finger on
the name.

"Yes! And Mr. Tregarthen is a Cornishman, and--to be sure!--comes from
Lanrean."

"Does he?" said the captain quietly. "As I ain't acquainted with him,
who may _he_ be?"

"Mr. Tregarthen is Kitty's father."

"Ay, ay!" cried the captain. "Now you speak! Tregarthen knows this
village of Lanrean, then?"

"Beyond all doubt he does. I have often heard him mention it, as being
his native place. He knows it well."

"Stop half a moment," said the captain. "We want a name here. You could
ask Tregarthen (or if you couldn't I could) what names of old men he