"I doan't remember; I never seed 'ee before."
He said this dreamily, and in so doing relapsed into the old Cornish vernacular.
"Look again, Peter. Remember how Wilfred and I used to wrestle on the headland. Remember how I frightened you by telling you that Deborah Teague had ill-wished you. Think of an awful storm, and that wreck on the 'Devil's Tooth,' and of the young lady I saved. Can't you recognise me now?"
Then old Peter knew me, and tears rolled down his wrinkled cheeks.
"Oh, Master Roger," he said, "thank God you've come home; but to come like this, to come home as a——" But he could say no more, he sobbed like a child.
He had heard then. Somehow it must have been rumoured abroad that I had killed my brother, and so my presence was painful to him. Perhaps Bill Tregargus had told that he had seen me, and heard me vow vengeance. Perhaps Ruth had in a moment of madness revealed the terrible truth!
"Do you think my mother will see me, Peter?" I said to the faithful old servant as gently as I could.
"Oh, Mr. Roger," he sobbed, "you was so young, so beautiful, so happy in the old days, and I always looked forward to you becoming master, and servin' you till I died, and now to see you come home like this, a ringin' at the door, when you should have walked straight in, and to be asked questions by me when——when——"
"Never mind, Peter," I said, "it cannot be undone now, but still you won't mind doing something for me now, for the sake of old days."
"Do! I'll do anything," he cried.