"I would wed no woman for her possessions," I replied angrily. "Women are naught to me."
"So I have been told. Then do you help her from pure chivalry? Is it your purpose to take her to the place she desires to go? Have you faced imprisonment and death without thought of reward?"
"What is that to you?" I asked.
"This," he replied. "You need my help, and I must be assured that you mean all that a gentleman should mean before I extend it further."
"Gentleman!" I cried, "what know you of the feelings of a gentleman? You a droll, a travelling tale-teller!"
This I said with a purpose, for I desired to see further into the heart of the man. I saw too that I had not spoken in vain. His eyes flashed angrily, and he placed his hand on his left hip as though he carried a sword there.
"As good a gentleman as you," he cried angrily, and for the moment he had lost control over himself. "I have a name as good as yours, my family—" he stopped, feeling doubtless that he had been betrayed into saying more than he intended.
"If you are a gentleman," I replied, "you will know that a man does not tell all that is in his heart to every passing stranger. You evidently have your secret, you do not tell it to me."
"True," he replied quietly. "I spoke hastily, Roger Trevanion. I know too that the word of a Trevanion is to be trusted, thus I will not question it." Then he waited for some time in silence, his eyes occasionally scanning the wild moors around, and again resting upon me.
"I am waiting," he said presently.