When I reached my room I pondered long over the events of the day, and wondered much at the maid Nancy's behaviour, but could not divine her motives. I determined to take her to Peter Trevisa as she had commanded, but I was strong in my resolve to watch over her as jealously as a young mother watches over her first-born child.
It was past midday when I awoke, and so I hurriedly dressed, wondering what the woman I had learnt to love would think of me, but when I went down-stairs I discovered that she had not yet risen. I went to the stables and examined the horses. They were well fed and groomed, and as far as I could gather, no one had been there making inquiries concerning us. This put me at my ease, and when presently Mistress Nancy appeared, I assured her of her safety.
About an hour before dark we left Truro, and during our ride she asked me many questions, the meaning of which I could not understand. One thing she insisted on, for which in my heart I thanked her. It was that we should take my attorney, Mr. Hendy, with us to Treviscoe, for I knew that Peter Trevisa had a great terror of the law. Accordingly we called at the old lawyer's house, and asked him to accompany us. He seemed much surprised at seeing us, and the more was his astonishment when he discovered that Mistress Nancy went to Treviscoe against my will, for this he soon discovered. He said but little, however, and rode quietly with us like a man in a dream.
"What do you wish me to say to these men, Mistress Molesworth?" I said to her, when Treviscoe appeared in sight.
"Nothing," she replied absently.
"Nothing!"
"No. That is, say just what you would have said if you had carried out the purpose with which you started out."
Her words pierced me like a dagger-thrust, but I said nothing. A few minutes later we came up to the hall door.
Was Mr. Trevisa at home?
"Yes," the servant replied; "old Mr. Trevisa is, but not young Mr. Peter."