"But we couldn't see a hand's length ahead of us," replied Sam, fumbling in his pocket. "No; there's no candle; have you got one?"
"No. 'Tis a pity. We had better go back for breakfast and come again by-and-by. Just take a look round and see that nobody is about."
Sam left the slight hollow in which the ruins were situated, and mounted to a spot whence the ground sloping up to Penwarden's cottage, and the whole expanse southward to the Towers, could be scanned. No one was in sight, but the boys considered it prudent to return by the road, as they had come, and made the best of their way back. The hour was still early; there were neither vehicles nor pedestrians visible; and they arrived at the Towers considerably excited by their discovery, and with a healthy appetite for breakfast.
While they were still engaged in that meal, John Trevanion issued from the front door of the Dower House. He wore an old shooting-coat and leggings, and carried a fowling-piece slung over his shoulder. Leaving his own grounds, he skirted those of the Towers, gained the road, walked along it for some distance, then struck into the path leading past Penwarden's cottage in the direction of St. Cuby's Well. He sauntered easily along, and although he had apparently come out to shoot, he was not accompanied by a dog, nor did he proceed with that intent watchfulness which a sportsman usually displays.
When he arrived on the crest of rising ground beyond which lay the well at the distance of a quarter-mile, he paused, and looked round in all directions, as a man might look who is either seeking game or admiring a landscape. Then he resumed his walk, but at a much brisker pace than before. On coming within a hundred yards of the ruins, he began with apparent carelessness to whistle a tune. In a few moments the mass of ivy hanging before a doorway parted, and a man appeared. Trevanion threw a swift glance behind him, then advanced, joined the man who was awaiting him, and vanished with him behind the ivy.
"All well, Doubledick?" he asked.
"Iss, well enough, though I shall say 'praise be' with a feelin' heart when 'tis all over."
"You're not afraid of bogeys, Doubledick?"
"Not I. But 'tis lonesome, and never a soul to change a word with."
"Jake Tonkin did not stay with you, then?"