There were annals of early England, and of marauders, monks, and Danes.

And, through all these, some thing, some man or woman, place, or strife linked by some tie with Mount Dunstan blood.

In past generations, it seemed plain, there had been certain of the line who had had pride in these records, and had sought and collected them; then had been born others who had not cared.

Sometimes the relations were inadequate, sometimes they wore an unauthentic air, but most of them seemed, even after the passing of centuries, human documents, and together built a marvellous great drama of life and power, wickedness and passion and daring deeds.
When the shameful scandal burst forth young Saltyre was seen by neither his father nor his brother.

Neither of them had any desire to see him; in fact, each detested the idea of confronting by any chance his hot, intolerant eyes.