She grew up to be a lovely woman, and the Squire of Polwheel at that time--for his race has died out since--fell in love with her; he treated her very ill, and she died broken-hearted, at Gethin, and was buried in our church-yard, where I can show you the tomb." "And did no punishment overtake the scoundrel Squire ?" "Yes.

After a great revel one night, he was returning home by the sands, and in the moonlight beheld a beautiful lady sitting by this same pool.
She was so like his dead love to look at that he was frightened at first, but she smiled and beckoned to him, and then, clasping him in her arms, leaped into the sea, and drowned him; and in the storm that arose that night the merry maids filled up the harbor." "That was hard upon Polwheel," observed Richard, "though the Squire only got what he deserved.

He must have been a bad lot." "But the mermaid was very foolish to believe him," added Harry--"very." They visited the Fairy Bower, did these young people--the only spot about Gethin where trees grew; a beautiful ravine, with a fall of water, and a caverned cell beside it, where a solitary hermit was said to have dwelt.

Notwithstanding which celibate association, it had a wishing-well besides, into which a maiden had but to drop a pin, and wish her wish, and straightway the face of her future husband was mirrored in the water.

Through its clear depths you might see the bottom of the pool quite paved with pins.
"And does the charm always work ?" asked Richard, laughing.