midnight
For the moral , it must be sought by the reader himself in the following pages . To make all clear , I must go back half a century , and begin with the strange and unaccountable Will made in the year of Grace 1837 by my grandfather , Amos Trenoweth , of Lantrig in the County of Cornwall . The old farm-house of Lantrig , heritage and home of the Trenoweths as far as tradition can reach , and Heaven knows how much longer , stands some few miles N.W. of the Lizard , facing the Atlantic gales from behind a scanty veil of tamarisks , on Pedn-glas , the northern point of a small sandy cove , much haunted of old by smugglers , but now left to the peaceful boats of the Polkimbra fishermen . In my grandfather 's time however , if tales be true , Ready-Money Cove saw many a midnight cargo run , and many a prize of cognac and lace found its way to the cellars and store-room of Lantrig . Nay , there is a story -LRB- but for its truth I will not vouch -RRB- of a struggle between my grandfather 's lugger , the _ Pride of Heart _ , and a certain Revenue cutter , and of an unowned shot that found a Preventive Officer 's heart . But the whole tale remains to this day full of mystery , nor would I mention it save that it may be held to throw some light on my grandfather 's sudden disappearance no long time after . Whither he went , none clearly knew .