CHAPTER XXV. HOW JANUARY CHANGED TO JUNE.
Now I had never seen the elder John Polperro, but I remembered his son, and as I rode along I thought how unlike the two men were. So unlike were they, indeed, that no one on seeing them together would suspect them to be related. I paid but little attention to this, however, but rather set to wondering why he was going to see Hugh Boscawen. Had news of any sort reached him? Knew he aught of the plots afoot? After this I felt certain I had seen the man somewhere. Some of the features I could not recall; but the eyes and the protruding brows above them were not ordinary. The possessor of those keen gray penetrating orbs was not of the common type of humanity.
"Where have I seen those eyes before?" I thought; and then my side burned and ached fearfully, just as I had felt it immediately after Otho Killigrew had shot at me. My blood also coursed madly through my veins, and I became much excited.
"Uncle Anthony!" I said aloud, and I was sure I was not mistaken.
Presently I cooled down again, and I was able to think calmly. Here then were the facts. He was visiting Hugh Boscawen under the guise of the elder John Polperro. He had, doubtless, become acquainted with the success of Otho's search after me, and had gone to Tregothnan to confer with the master thereof concerning the coming of the Pretender. Moreover, I was sure that he would not go there unless some subtle plan had formed itself in his cunning old brain. I knew that Hugh Boscawen was no match for him, and that unless he were checkmated the King's cause would perchance be ruined.
This being so what ought I to do? My first impulse was to ride back to Tregothnan and inform Hugh Boscawen of my conviction; but I refrained. I remembered the kind of man with whom I had to deal. Uncle Anthony would know of my coming, and would naturally guess that I had penetrated his disguise. This would allow him time to resort to other means in order to carry out his purposes. After this I thought of writing a note to Boscawen, telling him to arrest Uncle Anthony; but this I could not do. I remembered the old man's kindness to Nancy, I thought of the evident love he had for her. No, no—I could not do this, even although I knew him to be the most dangerous plotter in the country. And yet I dared not allow him to have his way with the man who was championing the cause of the reigning king. After much thinking, therefore, I wrote a note in the gatekeeper's lodge and commissioned the man to take it to his master. This is what I wrote:
"Act as though your visitor of this morning, who gives his name at your lodge as John Polperro, had not called. I have powerful reasons for this. At the same time listen to him as though you desired to fall in with his plans. His information is not trustworthy, of this I am sure.
"Roger Trevanion."
This note I reflected would frustrate Uncle Anthony's designs, but would not lead Boscawen to arrest the old man or do him any injury. So I mounted my horse again and rode northward. I had no definitely formed plans of my own, except that, despite the danger, I would go to Restormel and seek to find Mistress Nancy. I could not help believing that Otho Killigrew, notwithstanding the critical work he had to do, would still find time to hunt down my love and work her harm. That he knew of her being at Restormel was manifested by what he had said to me, and I was sore afraid. Moreover, I had promised Hugh Boscawen that I would meet his men in the woods, near the only spot a boat could well land, at Veryan Bay. He had, he told me, arranged with his henchmen that they should gather as many as possible of those who had taken up arms for King George at this place, and that they should come as far as possible, stealthily and after dark. His hope was that, though the information I had given him came very late, at least two thousand men would be lying among the woods at eleven o'clock that night.