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 into the farmyard to look after the horses. i had scarcely reached the stables when a sound reached my ears that made my heart sink like lead. it was the noise of many voices, and was not more than a mile away.

without waiting a second i threw the saddles on the horses, and then rushed into the house. the farmer's wife had left the kitchen, leaving my companions alone. they were still closely hooded.

"come," i cried, "we must start at this moment!"

"why?"

"the hue and cry!"

"i am ready," she said, quietly but resolutely.

"are the horses ready?"

"they are saddled and standing in the yard."

"come then," and both left the room without another word.

at that moment the farmer's wife came into the kitchen again. thinking it would be unwise to tell her our reason for leaving suddenly, i threw two guineas on the table, and then with a hurried good-bye left.

by this time the sound had become nearer, and my conjecture became confirmed.

"it may not be you they are after," she said; "they would hardly come so far."

[pg 294]

perhaps she was right. i remembered that hours ere this papers might have been placed in hugh pyper's hands commanding him to set me at liberty.

"still it will be safer farther south," i said.

by this time we had mounted our horses and were galloping along the farm lane which led to the high road. she whom in my heart i called my love was still clothed in her long gray cloak, her face still hidden from my sight. all weakness seemed to have left her now; she was the embodiment of resolution, and courage, and strength.

the sounds of pursuers became fainter and more distant.

"if we go through liskeard at this speed we shall attract attention, and if the people be following us, they will be informed of the direction we have taken."

"but we will not touch liskeard," i said. "i know the country well now. if you will tell me where you wish to go i will guide you by the least traversed roads."

"go to lostwithiel then," she said; "after that i will act as guide."

wondering at her words, i led the way through the village of st. cleer, leaving liskeard on our left, until after more than two hours' hard riding we came to the village of boconnoc.

arrived here, i stopped suddenly, for a suspicion entered my mind as to the place she intended to go.

"look you, my lady," i said, "we are at [pg 295]boconnoc, five miles only from lostwithiel; will you tell me of your intended destination?"

"you said you would trust me," was her reply.

"i remember," i cried, harshly i am afraid, because for the first time since boyhood the feeling of jealousy made me almost beside myself. "but let me ask you one question. is it your intention to go to polperro?"

"and if i do not desire to go there?" she said, after hesitating a few seconds, "what then?"

"i will go with you whither you will, asking no questions."

"but you do not desire to go to polperro?"

i was silent, but i hoped that she understood my feelings.

"in three hours, four at the most, we ought to be at our journey's end if we ride hard," she said, "until then i ask you to trust me."

with this i was fain to be content, and almost ashamed of myself, we continued to ride southward. an hour later i saw that my suspicions were groundless. we were going away from polperro. after we had passed lostwithiel i asked her to be the guide, but she told me to lead on to st. austell, after which she would choose the road.

about two hours after dark we entered a part of the country that was strange to me, but my guide evidently knew the road well, for in spite of the darkness she never hesitated as to the way we should take. presently we came to a lane, down which we rode for some distance, and then stopped at a small house, which in the darkness[pg 296] looked to me like a lodge. no sooner did we stop than a light shone, and a minute later i heard a gate swing on rusty hinges.

"all well?"

"all well," was the reply, which i judged was spoken by an old man.

we passed through the open way, after which i heard some one lock the gates.

by this time the sky, which had been cloudy all day, cleared. there was no moon, but the stars shone clearly overhead. as well as i could i looked around me, and saw that we were riding along what seemed to me a disused carriage drive. huge trees bordered the way, the branches of which nearly met overhead. the leaves were far from fully grown, however; and thus looking upward i could see the stars twinkling.

the memory of that night will never leave me. even now the feelings which possessed me then come back. everything seemed unreal. the dark trees on either side of the way looked like tall spectres, the women who had been with me since the previous night seemed mere phantoms of the mind. the clank of the horses' hoofs grated on my excited nerves until i felt like crying out.

neither of us spoke. i was too much wrought upon. perhaps they were. what had seemed reasonable enough in the day appeared like madness now. in spite of what i had seen and heard i could not believe that the maid nancy would expose herself to so much danger in order to rescue me.

[pg 297]

darker and darker became the road, for huge evergreens, laurels, and rhododendrons grew between the oaks. moreover, i saw that we were descending into a valley. the night winds swept among the trees, making sweet music, but to me it was like the dirge of death. a bat darting to and fro struck my face with its wing, and an owl hooted dismally.

"how much further?" i asked, more because i wanted to hear the sound of human voices than from desire to ask questions.

but no reply was given, and but for the love in my heart, i felt, strong man as i was, like giving way to fear.

presently i saw a faint twinkling light, and afterwards the dark outline of a huge building appeared. a few minutes later we had come up close to an ivy-covered house.

my companions dismounted and motioned me to do the same. then out of the shadows came a man and took the horses. i heard a bell clang through a seemingly empty building, and then the door by which we stood opened.

"come in."

i obeyed, feeling more than ever that my experiences could not be real.

"this way, please."

i followed my companion without a word along a wide corridor, after which i descended some steps, until i imagined i must be below the level of the earth. then she opened the door of a compartment, and we entered together.

it was a low-ceiled room, but looked [pg 298]comfortable and well-appointed. a lamp burned brightly on the table, and a cheerful wood fire burned in the chimney place. before the fire a huge armchair was placed.

"will you sit here and rest? i will return presently."

mechanically i obeyed, and a moment later i was left alone. the room, the house—everything was as silent as death. i walked around the apartment, and stamped my feet to assure myself that i was not dreaming. i held my hands before the wood fire, and lifted the logs from place to place so that i might convince myself that i had not entered an enchanted region, such as i had read about in my boyhood. then i examined the room more closely. i could nowhere discover a window. what did it mean? had i been removed from one prison to another? had i been mistaken as to the identity of my deliverer? why had she kept her face hidden? it must have been her. who else would have undergone so much?

i sat down in the chair, and stretched my legs wearily. twenty-four hours before i had sat straining my ears in the witch's tower of launceston castle, and now i was immured in a far more lonely spot. i had asked no questions because i believed that the woman i loved rode by my side. had i done right?

a distant rumbling noise reached me. where was i? to whom did this house belong? by what right had i been brought here?

i heard a knock at the door, and a second later an old man entered.

[pg 299]

"if you will follow me, sir, you shall have change of raiment, and water to wash with."

like one in a dream i followed him, and to my astonishment i found in an adjoining compartment not only clothes but arms. a sword hung by the wall, a pair of pistols lay on a table. the clothes were well made and of good quality as befitted a gentleman.

"here is all you will want, i think, sir. when you have washed and dressed will you be pleased to go back to the other room?"

a few minutes later i had removed the muddy-stained garments which i had worn in launceston castle, and had clothed myself in those which lay in the room. they looked quite new, as though they had just come from the hands of a tailor. they fitted me well, too; and i must confess to a feeling of pleasure as i beheld myself.

when i returned to the room into which i had at first entered, i found that the table had been spread for food, but no one was in it. again i sat down and tried to think, but my mind seemed a blank—i was dazed with the experiences of the last twenty-four hours.

presently my heart beat fast, for i heard light tripping footsteps outside the room door. this was followed by gentle knocking.

"come in."

the door opened, and to my joy mistress nancy molesworth entered. she met me with a smile, but there was, i thought, something distant and repellant about it.

[pg 300]

"food will be immediately brought, master trevanion," she said. "i am sure you must need it."

"i need something more," i replied.

"and that?" was the response. "anything in my power to give, you shall have."

"the removal of mystery," i replied. "i have spent the whole of this day like one in a dream. i seem to be enveloped in shadows."

"i have much to tell you by and by," she answered.

"and much to ask, too, i trust," i cried. "you have saved me from i know not what; for i know it is you to whom i owe everything. you will let me serve you, for verily you need service."

"we will talk of many things at the proper time," she replied, "but food is being brought."

both of us stood silent while the old serving-man brought food; then when he had gone she turned to leave me.

"mistress molesworth," i said, "you will not condemn me to eat my food alone. may i be honoured with your company at supper?"

she hesitated a second. "thank you," she said, "you will desire quiet after so much excitement. i will return to you to-morrow."

i sat down with a sad heart, and ate the food with but a poor appetite. during my meal i heard only one sound. it was that of a clock striking the hour of midnight.

after supper i went into the bedroom i have mentioned, and fell into a deep sleep, from which[pg 301] i did not wake till late next day. when i got up i hoped to see mistress nancy at once, and so was mightily disappointed when the old serving-man brought me a message from her telling me that she would not be able to visit me till night.