“I knew her when I was a boy,” said Trenchon. “Thy father also, and many a grudge I owe him, although I had forgotten about them. Still, I doubt not but as a boy I was as much in fault as he, although he was harsh to all of us, and now it seems he is harsh to thee. My name is Trenchon. I doubt if any in the village now remember me, although, perhaps, they may have heard of me from London,” he said, with some pride, and a hope that the girl would confirm his thoughts. But she shook her head.
“I have never heard thy name,” she said.
Trenchon sighed. This, then, was fame!
“Ah, well!” he cried, “that matters not; they shall hear more of me later. I will go with thee to thy father’s house and demand for thee admittance and decent usage.”
But the girl shrank back. “Oh, no, no!” she cried; “that will never do. My father is a hard man to cross. There are none in the village who dare contend with him.”
“That is as it may be,” said Trenchon, with easy confidence. “I, for one, fear him not. Come, lass, with me, and see if I cannot, after all these years, pick out thy father’s dwelling. Come, I say, thou must not longer tarry here; the rain is coming on afresh, and these trees, thick as they are, form scant protection. It is outrageous that thou should wander in this storm, while thy brutal father lies in shelter. Nay, do not fear harm for either thee or me; and as for him, he shall not suffer if thou but wish it so.” And, drawing the girl’s hand through his arm, he took her reluctantly with him, and without direction from her soon stood before the blacksmith’s house.
“You see,” he said, triumphantly, “I knew the place, and yet I have not seen the town for years.”
Trenchon rapped soundly on the oaken door with his heavy stick, and the blows re-echoed through the silent house. The girl shrank timidly behind him, and would have fled, but that he held her firmly by the wrist.
“Nay, nay,” he said: “believe me there is naught to fear. I will see that thou art not ill-used.”
As he spoke the window above was thrown up, and a string of fearful oaths greeted the two, whereat the girl once more tried to release her imprisoned wrist, but Trenchon held it lightly, though with a grip like steel.