"Even before you spoke so strangely," I replied.
"I will not take off my patches, and I must not stay at your house to-night, Roger Trevanion," he said quietly. "In an hour from now I must be on my way again."
"But why?"
"I am not yet safe. For the present I will say no more. Sometime, perchance, I may come to your house as an honoured guest."
"And you shall have a royal welcome," was my answer.
"But before I go, I would drive away the one cloud in the sky."
I did not speak, for truly I was in the dark as to his meaning.
"You, my lady Nancy," said Uncle Anthony, turning towards her, "believe that you are not mistress of Restormel. I found out old Peter Trevisa's secret, and so, although my heart was saddened at the failure of my plans, and although you, Roger Trevanion, caused their failure, I determined, after all our hopes were shattered, that I would find out the truth."
"And what have you discovered?" I asked eagerly.
"I have been to Ireland—to many places," he answered, "and now I have come to give my lady Nancy her wedding dowry. Here it is," and he placed a package in my love's hands. "There is proof," he went on, "that your father's marriage was valid, proof that none can deny, and so Restormel is rightfully yours."