"Am I to stop there?" I asked. "Is it a prison?"
"I don't know exactly," was the reply; "you'll find out soon enough for your own comfort, I dare say."
Upon this we came up to a high wall which was covered with ivy, and behind which great trees grew. The sight of the walls was oppressive enough, but the trees looked like old friends, and reminded me of the great oaks which grew around Trevanion.
"Here's a door," cried one, "let's knock." Whereupon the fellow knocked loudly, and soon afterwards I heard the sound of footsteps.
"What want you?" said a voice.
"A prisoner," was the reply.
"Take him to the lock-up," was the answer. "This is not the place for constables to bring drunken men."
"If it please you, we be not constables," replied one of my companions. "We have come from my Lord Falmouth, with a prisoner of quality, and I carry important papers."
"But it is not for me to examine them," replied the voice, "and Master Hugh Pyper is gone to a supper to-night at South Petherwin, and God only knows when he will be back. Moreover, when he comes I much doubt whether he will be fit to read such papers."
"In Heaven's name, why?"