The events I have just described happened so suddenly that I was too excited to think seriously who my deliverer could be. I knew that Jenkins would arouse the other jailers, and that in a few minutes the governor of the prison would be acquainted with the fact of my escape. I was sure, moreover, that much as I believed he sympathized with me, he would seek to do his duty as the constable of the castle and bring me back to the prison again. It is true Otho Killigrew had promised to arrive the next morning with a warrant from Hugh Boscawen to set me at liberty, but upon this I could not depend. I knew, moreover, that should I be brought to trial the fact of my attempted escape would go against me. We had several things in our favour. I imagined that we were mounted moderately well. My horse carried me with seeming ease, although it was too small of bone to keep up speed through a long journey. The steeds of my companions kept breast to breast with mine. In any case, it must take Hugh Pyper some considerable time to get horses in order to follow us. Then the wind blew from the northeast, and thus the sound of our horses' hoofs would be wafted away from my[Pg 286] late prison. It would be, therefore, difficult for him to determine which way we had gone, especially as about a mile out of the town there were several branch roads. The night was dark, too, and thus to track us would be impossible, at any rate, until morning came.

On the other hand, however, I was unarmed and practically alone. As far as I knew my companions were two women, and although one of them had effected my escape in a marvelous way, I suspected that if fighting became necessary they would be a hindrance rather than a help.

This led me to think who they might be, and to wonder who it was that had impersonated the witch Jezebel Grigg who had been buried in the tower where I had been confined. For, once out in the free open air, all superstitious dread had departed. That it was Uncle Anthony I could no longer believe. True, the veiled figure was quite as tall as Jenkins, my jailer; perhaps taller, but in no way did it remind me of the lonely hermit with whom I had talked so long on the top of Roche Rock, and whom I had left sick and wounded in the ruined chapel in the parish of St. Mawgan.

Presently every fibre of my body quivered with a great joy, my blood fairly leaped in my veins, and I could have shouted aloud for joy. My deliverer was the maid Nancy! She had heard of my arrest, had traced me to my prison, and had provided means for my escape. Hitherto I had been the deliverer, I had schemed and fought for her escape from Endellion; now all had changed.[Pg 287] She had entered my prison walls and set me at liberty, not for any selfish purposes of her own, but because of the kindness of her heart.

The thought was joy unspeakable; at the same time it filled me with shame. She whom I had been willing to betray into the house of Peter Trevisa for a bribe, had dared a thousand things to save me from danger and possible death.

A thousand questions flashed into my mind to ask her, but a weight was upon my lips. She rode by my side, still covered with the dark mantle, and still hooded. The other was doubtless her faithful serving-maid, Amelia Lanteglos. True, her face was hidden and she spoke not, but even in the darkness I thought I recognized her strong figure, recognized the easy way she rode, even as hundreds of girls of her class rode in my native county.

Meanwhile the horses dashed along freely, the road was good, and nothing impeded our progress. When we came to the junction of roads close by Lewannick, she did not ride straight forward towards Altarnun, but turned to the left through Lewannick village, until we came to four crossways, called Trevadlock Cross. Soon afterwards we reached another church town, North Hill by name, close by which a friend of my father lived, at a house named Trebartha Hall. But we did not stay here, much as I should have liked under ordinary circumstances to have spoken to my father's friend. We crossed the River Lynher, a clear flowing stream which rushes between some fine rugged hills, and then continued on our[Pg 288] journey until we reached the parish of Linkenhorne.

"If we keep on at this speed, we shall be in the town of Liskeard in a little more than an hour," I said presently, feeling that I could keep silence no longer. Indeed I wondered much afterwards how I could have been speechless so long, feeling sure as I did that the woman I loved was by my side.

No reply, however, was made to me; and my companions never so much as moved their hoods from their faces.

By this time our horses showed signs of fatigue; especially was mine becoming spent, for I was no light weight to carry.

"It will be well to rest at Liskeard," I said, "if only for the sake of the horses."

"No, we must not stay there."

She tried to speak in the same tone as when she had commanded John Jenkins to open the door of the Witch's Tower, but I thought I detected the voice I had learned to love in spite of the hoarse whisper.

"I have not spoken to you, Mistress Nancy Molesworth," I replied quietly, "for I thought you desired not speech, and I would not have said aught to you now; only in an hour it will be daylight, and my horse cannot carry me many miles farther."

I thought I saw her start as I mentioned her name, while her companion made a quick movement. But neither gave answer to my words. Silently we sped along, my steed panting much but still holding out bravely.

[Pg 289]

Presently we came to a steep hill, and in mercy to the poor animals we had to allow them to slacken speed; indeed I sprung from my saddle and walked by my horse's head.

"We have ridden so hard that I have not had a chance to thank you for this great service, Mistress Molesworth," I said; "indeed we had gone several miles before I divined who you were. Words are poor, and they cannot tell the gratitude I feel."

She made no answer to my words.

"At first I dared not believe it could be you; indeed I knew of no one who could bring me deliverance;" and still she kept her hood closely around her head, answering nothing.

"Your heart is kind," I went on, "and unlike women generally, you are not afraid of danger. Believe me, I am not ungrateful. I am your servant for life. I am afraid you are still in danger, and I rejoice that I am free to help you."

Daylight was now dawning, indeed I could see the colour of her gray cloak plainly.

"Will you not pull aside your hood?" I said, scarcely thinking of my words.

She did not obey me, but I noticed her gloved hand tremble. I saw, too, that she reeled in her saddle.

"You are ill!" I cried, and then I rushed to her side, for she was falling from her horse. During the hours of danger and hard riding she had shown no sign of weakness, but now the danger was far behind, her woman's weakness overcame her.

[Pg 290]

As I caught her, she fell in my arms like one in a dead faint; so I laid her carefully on the grassy bank beside the road. By this time the other woman had dismounted and had come to her side.

"Watch here, while I go and fetch some water," I cried, and then seeing a pool near by, I stooped and scooped some in the hollow of my hand. When I came back, however, she was sitting up, and both women had drawn their hoods more closely around their faces. If it were Mistress Nancy, she did not wish me to recognize her. But it must be she, for who else would have gone through so much to come to me? She must have travelled with her companion some sixty miles through a lonely part of the country in order to get to Launceston, and when there must have braved all sorts of dangers in order to effect my liberty. The thought made my heart swell with such pride and joy that my bosom seemed too small to contain it. In spite of my baseness in selling myself to Peter Trevisa, she could not altogether despise me. I knew now that I had never loved the maid to whom I thought I had given my heart as a boy. My feeling for her was only a passing passion, of no more importance than chaff, and as light as thistledown. But all was different now. I was thirty-two years of age, and I had given all the strength of my life to her. True, my tongue was tied. I could not tell her of the fire that burned in my heart—I was, I knew, unworthy. By that fatal confession, as we rode by Tregothnan Gates through Tresillian, I had forever made it [Pg 291]impossible that she could think of me as I thought of her. Besides, I was homeless and landless. Looking at her as she sat there on the dewy bank that early spring morning, I would rather have lost my right arm than take the wages of my service to Peter Trevisa. The purity and truth of her life roused within me the nobility of my race. Better be a beggar from door to door than accept the prize of base service. I who had ceased to believe in the goodness of women, now realized that this maid made me ashamed of all the past and caused to arise in me a longing for the pure and the true. But my love for her was none the less hopeless. How could it be, when I was minute by minute dogged by the memory of the hour when I promised to be a Judas?

"Are you better?" I asked as gently as I could, for I knew how boorish I had become through the years.

"Yes, yes; we must hasten on. We may be followed." This she said like one afraid.

"But whither?" I asked. "If you would tell me your plans, your wishes, I could perchance carry them out. But you are overwrought—you need rest."

"No, no, I am quite strong. I can easily ride another thirty miles," and her voice was hoarse and unnatural.

"Even if you could, my horse is not fit to carry me so far," was my reply.

"But you are not out of danger."

"We must be thirty miles from Launceston Town," I said, "and no one could find me with[Pg 292] ease even here. But to what spot did you intend that I should go?"

It seemed strange even then that I should be following the plans of a woman; strange that a simple maid, as I believed her to be, should provide for me a safe hiding-place.

"I would rather not tell you," she replied; "that is, I think I had better not. You can trust me?" This she said wistfully, I thought.

"In everything," I answered eagerly, "but will you trust me, too? You are not fit to travel further, and after a few hours' rest we shall all be better. Let us go to yonder farmhouse and ask for food and shelter."

"Such an act might be dangerous."

"No. All our Cornish folk are hospitable; besides, my money has not been taken from me. I can pay the good folk well."

She eagerly caught at my proposal, so eagerly that I wondered at her swift change of opinion. A few minutes later, therefore, I stood knocking at a farmhouse door, asking for food and shelter for man and beast.

At first both the farmer and his wife looked at us suspiciously, but when I told him of my deliverer's weariness, how that she had fainted and fallen from her saddle, they gave us a warm welcome. Half an hour later, I sat with these farmer folk at breakfast, but my companions, still keeping their hoods tightly drawn around their faces, had followed the woman of the house into another apartment.

After breakfast the farmer's wife provided me[Pg 293] with a couch, in what she called "the pallor," where I gladly stretched my weary body and immediately fell asleep. When I awoke the afternoon was well advanced. Food was again placed before me, and after I had partaken thereof I went out int............