Peter Trevisa seemed much chagrined at the course events were taking. Doubtless he would twist and turn like a fox before fulfilling his promises; but the maid stood expectant by as the attorney took some papers from a receptacle and laid them on the table.

"Everything is in order here," said the old man quietly. "Of course, certain formalities will have to be complied with, but——"

[Pg 225]

"I will have none of it!" I cried; "none of it." So saying, I rose to leave the room.

"Do you wish me to render you any further service, Mistress Molesworth?" I continued hastily, "Have you any commands for me?"

"Do you mean to say," she asked quietly, "that you will not use to your advantage the means you have obtained in order to——"

I interrupted her rudely, for truly I was sore distraught.

"Think not too badly of me," I cried. "I am mean enough, God knows; but being in the company of a good woman has taught me what a man ought to be. No, no. I am a beggar—a beggar I will remain until I win my fortune honourably. Tell me what I can do to serve you?"

"Nothing," she replied, coldly, I thought.

"You will stay here, then?"

"Yes," she replied slowly; "seeing that Mr. Trevisa is so hospitably inclined, I will remain during the night."

"Many nights, my fair lady," cried old Peter gaily. "Treviscoe is very fair demesne, and when my son comes back to-morrow he will make it very pleasant for you. Ah! Roger knows that it is our joy to help all those who are sorrowful or oppressed."

"And is it your desire that I should leave you here?" I asked almost bitterly.

"You are sure you will not claim what is your right?" she asked. "Sure you will not allow Mr. Hendy to establish you at your old home?"

"I have no home," I cried. "If you do not[Pg 226] wish me to stay and serve you, I will ride back to the old place, and, having discharged the servants, I will leave it forever."

"Nay, nay, Roger," cried old Peter, yet I saw that his eyes gleamed with avarice.

Taking no notice of him I waited for the maid Nancy's answer. "Do you wish me to remain near you?" I repeated.

"No," she answered; "but I should like Mr. Hendy to stay for an hour or so if he will."

"Then I am dismissed?" I said rudely, for my heart was very sore; but she made no answer, whereupon I turned on my heel, and a few minutes later was riding towards my old home.

Old Daniel welcomed me with tearful eyes. I might have been away years instead of a few days. And yet, as I considered what had happened since I bade him good-bye, years seemed to have elapsed.

"Is all well, Daniel?" I asked, after many protestations of joy and affection on his part.

"All well, Master Roger; all well. The attorney hath been here much, but I have no complaints to make. The serving-maids will be rejoiced to see 'ee, sur. They say the 'ouse is so lonely as a church when you be out ov et. Aw, sur, I be glad to see 'ee."

I had meant to tell the old man of my plans, but his joy at seeing me tied my tongue. I did not think the servants cared so much for me, and this revelation of their affection made it hard for me to tell them that on the morrow they would have to leave my service and the house which[Pg 227] some of them had learnt to love. As a consequence, I determined to delay the news until the following morning.

This set me thinking again upon all that had happened, and, as well as I could, I tried to understand the whole bearing of the case. I had successfully completed the work I had undertaken, but in so doing I had changed the whole tenor of my life. I had gone to Endellion a woman hater; on returning I knew that I had willingly laid my heart at a woman's feet. I had, on discovering this, abandoned the idea of taking the maid Nancy to Treviscoe, and she had insisted on going. Why? I formed many surmises concerning this, but could think of nothing which satisfied me. The great question, however, was what would become of her? That she had a purpose in going to Trevisa's I did not doubt; but I knew, too, that old Peter would not lightly let her leave his house. Doubtless, also, young Peter had devised many plans for the purpose of fulfilling his heart's desire. I knew he would seek to forge claims whereby he would try and bind Nancy to him. And I had left her at Treviscoe, unprotected and alone. True, I was confident that she could hold her own against both father and son, nevertheless it was dangerous for her to be there.

Then what purpose had she in speaking with the attorney? Why was she anxious for me to leave her? For she was anxious. I called to mind the conversation which took place at Treviscoe, and which I have but meagrely described, and I was certain that she was relieved when I[Pg 228] left her. Did she loathe my presence? Did she scorn me for playing so unmanly a part? Badly as I acted, I was less to be blamed than the men who had employed me. Besides, I had refused to benefit by what I had done. After much thinking, I determined not to leave the neighbourhood. I would watch over her, I would be near to protect her in case of danger.

This was the last thought in my mind before I fell asleep, and all through the night I dreamed I was defending her from powerful enemies, and rescuing her from dire perils.

I was awoke by Daniel knocking at my door.

"You be wanted down-stairs, sur."

"Wanted by whom, Daniel?"

"Some gen'lemen; I doan't knaw who they be. But they say tes very important, sur."

I hastily dressed, and made my way into the library where Daniel at my request had shown my visitors. The moment I entered the room a tall man came towards me, and placing his hand on my shoulder said quietly:

"Roger Trevanion, you are a prisoner."

"A prisoner!" I cried; "for what?"

"Treason."

"Treason! You must be mad!"

"That remains to be proved."

"But at least you can state in something like detail what you mean. What have I done? Wherein have I acted wrongly?"

"It is not for me to answer. I have simply to do my duty. I am instructed to arrest you, and that is my purpose in being here. Doubtless you[Pg 229] will be allowed every opportunity of defending yourself—but with that I have nothing to do. My commands are to take you to Viscount Falmouth in a way befitting your station. Consequently, if you give me your word that you will offer no resistance, you may accompany us to Tregothnan as though you were simply going there on some private business."

I looked around the room, and saw three other men. Evidently the spokesman had brought them for the purpose of taking me by force in case of necessity.

As may be imagined, I was for a few minutes stunned by the course events had taken. I had never dreamed that I was in the slightest danger; I had no idea that I had by any action placed myself under suspicion.

Presently, however, I thought I saw Otho Killigrew's hands at work; I imagined I saw evidence of his busy brain; I became more self-possessed after this, and although I was in sore straits at the thought of leaving Nancy at Treviscoe, I tried to regard the whole matter as a joke.

"Gentlemen," I said, "what grounds there are for apprehending me I have not the ghost of an idea. I, as all my fathers were, am a true supporter of both crown and church. But, of course, you have done right in obeying orders, and I will be ready to go with you in a few minutes. In the mean time I hope you will join me at breakfast."

They willingly fell in with this proposal, but although I tried hard, I could get no information[Pg 230] from them beyond what I have here set down. An hour later I was on my way to Tregothnan, where I was presently informed Hugh Boscawen (Viscount Falmouth) awaited me.

Perhaps there is no lovelier spot anywhere between the Tamar and Land's-end than Tregothnan. It overlooks the Truro River, and all that vast stretch of woodland which surrounds it. Around the house, which is an ancient pile, are rare gardens and parks, where old trees grow, the like of which is not to be found in the fairest county in England. The house was in many parts becoming decayed, and I had heard reports that Hugh Boscawen hoped one day to replace it by a more commodious dwelling. But I suspect that, like his father, he was too busy with political schemes to care much for a place justly renowned for many miles around.

I was shown into the library where Hugh Boscawen and three other gentlemen sat. Two of these I knew slightly. One was Sir John Grenville and another John Rosecorroch, the forefathers of both of whom fought against Cromwell nearly a century before. My attention, however, was more particularly drawn to Hugh Boscawen, before whom I was especially brought. As I looked at his face I was somewhat reminded of his father, who had died eleven years before, and whom I had twice seen. It called to my mind, also, the stories I had heard about the first viscount. So great was the old man's political zeal that he had caused the arrest of many who held high monarchical principles. Even Sir [Pg 231]Richard Vyvian or Trelowaren, and Mr. Tremain, two of the most renowned and highly respected gentlemen for miles around, did not escape his vigilance. They were friends of his too, but, as he declared, "friendship had nought to do with principles."

The son, however, was not so great a man as his father. He had not the same commanding countenance, neither did his eyes flash forth the same light. On the other hand, the man before whom I stood seemed to be aware that he did not possess a keen, penetrating intellect, and as a consequence was suspicious and very cautious. Report had it, too, that he was very zealous in his service for the King, and would leave no stone unturned in order to carry out his designs. In proof of this, he had, as I have already stated, been engaged in raising an army to resist any forces which the Young Pretender might be able to command.

"Roger Trevanion," he said slowly, "I am sorry to see you here."

"Then it is a pity I should have been brought here, my lord," I said a little hotly, for it went sore against the grain to be brought a prisoner before a man whose family was no nobler than my own.

"Neither would you have been brought here," he replied, "had not the country been threatened by danger, and some, about whose loyalty there should be no doubt, have become renegades."

"You may have received infor............