I saw him address it, and took it
myself to the post-office at Rington, where I was not so well known
as at Raxton, but I never got any reply.
And who was Tom Wynne? Though the organist of the new church at
Raxton, and custodian of the old deserted church on the cliffs, he
was the local ne'er-do-well, drunkard, and scapegrace. He was,
however, a well-connected man, reduced to his present position by
drink. He had lived in Raxton until he returned to Wales, which was
his birthplace--having obtained there some appointment the nature of
which I never could understand. In Wales he had got married; and
there his wife had died shortly after the birth of Winnie. It was no
doubt through his intemperate habits that he lost his post in Wales.
It was then that he again came to Raxton, leaving the child with his
sister-in-law.
Raxton stands on that part of the coast where the land-springs most
persistently disintegrate the hills and render them helpless against
the ravages of the sea. Perhaps even within the last few centuries
the spot called Mousetrap Cove, scooped out of the peninsula on which
the old church stands, was dry land.
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