A little later I was riding furiously toward Treviscoe. The place was a good many miles from Trevanion, but I reached it in a little more than an hour. I found old Peter and his son eagerly awaiting me.
"Glad to see you, Roger, glad to see you," said the old man.
"Why did you send for me?" I asked.
"I'll tell you directly. John, take some wine in the library."
The servant departed to do his bidding, and I followed the two Trevisas into the library.
"Sit down by the fire, Roger, lad; that's it. First of all we'll drink each other's health in the best wine I have in my cellar. This is a special occasion, Roger."
"Doubtless, a special occasion," I replied; "but no wine for me at present. I want to keep my head cool in talking with such as you. What do you want of me?"
"Let's not be hasty, Roger," said old Peter, eyeing me keenly, while young Peter drew his chair to a spot where his face was shaded, but from which he could see me plainly. "Let's be friendly."
"I'm in no humour to be friendly," was my rejoinder. "Tell me why you have wished me to come to you?"
"I would have come to you, but I had a twinge of gout this morning, and was not able to travel. I wanted to see you on an important matter, my dear lad."