But I am
speaking of years ago, when the place was a mere fishing harbour,
undiscovered by the guide books.
The old landlord talked, and I hearkened the while we both sat
drinking thin ale from earthenware mugs, late one summer's evening,
on the bench that runs along the wall just beneath the latticed
windows. And during the many pauses, when the old landlord stopped
to puff his pipe in silence, and lay in a new stock of breath,
there came to us the murmuring voices of the Atlantic; and often,
mingled with the pompous roar of the big breakers farther out, we
would hear the rippling laugh of some small wave that, maybe, had
crept in to listen to the tale the landlord told.
The mistake that Charles Seabohn, Junior partner of the firm of
Seabohn & Son, civil engineers of London and Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
and Mivanway Evans, youngest daughter of the Rev. Thomas Evans,
Pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Bristol, made originally, was
marrying too young. Charles Seabohn could hardly have been twenty
years of age, and Mivanway could have been little more than
seventeen, when they first met upon the cliffs, two miles beyond
the Cromlech Arms.
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