"How can I accept the help of a man who comes with a lie on his lips?" she cried;—"who comes professing a false name, and who pretends to be the friend of a man to whom he never spoke. How can I trust a man whose every action and every word is a lie?"
"Had I been a liar," I said, "I could have deceived you easily; but enough. There is no need that I should weary you with my presence. Some time perhaps——"
"If your name is not Roger Penryn, what is it?" she said; "and why have you tried to raise my hopes only to deceive me?"
I opened my mouth to tell her my name, but I could not utter the word. I could not tell her I was a Trevanion, nor relate to her my purpose in coming hither.
"It is not well I should speak to you further," I said. "But I have wrought you no harm. Neither would I if you had trusted in me. Nay, as God is my witness,"—and this I cried out passionately, for somehow the maid dragged the words from me,—"I would have let no harm have happened to you!"
With this I walked to the spot where I had ascended, and prepared to descend.
"Stop!" she whispered. "It will be far more difficult to go down than it was to come up."
"What of that?" I replied grimly.
"Because,"—and a blush mantled her cheek,—"there is another road down. Look, yonder is the stairway."
"There is a sentinel."