"Sir, I know not, nor do I greatly care, who you may be, or what may be your reasons for keeping private; but 'tis very plain you are in trouble, and 'tis not the fashion of the house of Perrient to let folk go unsuccoured from our door." Richard sprang to his feet. "Perrient! for heaven's sake, madam, of what Perrients do you come?" She looked at him with surprise. "I am Audrey Perrient of Hunstanton," she answered with a shade of coldness. "Mistress Perrient! Mistress Audrey Perrient! Can it be possible you are here in the flesh, or has God sent a blessed spirit in your shape to succour my misery!" She laughed with a puzzled scrutiny of his face. "Sir, how do you know my name? I am indeed a living woman, though this be a haunted house! It is sure no miracle to find me here at Inglethorpe, where my Aunt Isham lived for forty years past." Richard still stared at her like a man in a trance. "Verily, God leadeth the blind by a way they know not," he said at length. "We all believed you in America. I can but admire the chance, or rather miracle, that hath directed my steps hither. Madam, my name is well known to your honoured father. I am Richard Harrison." The girl's bright cheek paled. "Master Harrison!" she gasped; "the nephew of Major-General Harrison?" "Ay, madam," he answered, "the nephew, and well nigh the son of that martyr now in glory." There was silence for a minute, and then the girl recovered herself and the colour came back to her face. "But, good sir," she cried, "why are you in hiding? How can you be in danger? I know General Harrison was very forward against King Charles, and sat among the judges who sentenced him; but you--you must have been a mere boy when--when the king died. 'Twas no concern of yours? Sure this new king is not a Herod that he should make war on men for what they did as babes in their cradles! You were but a child in those days!" "Nay, madam, I was fifteen years old on the memorable day that the people of England did justice upon a king, even before the eyes of all nations. I was already a soldier, and had the honour of wearing a sword, when my uncle's regiment kept guard round the scaffold at Whitehall. Though in years I was but a lad, I do indeed believe I felt in my heart the terror of the presence of God, that was with his servants that day; and were that great deed to do again, I would with my heart's best blood set thereto my seal that it was just and right." Prompt and decided came his words. The soldier had no questionings concerning the justice of the cause in which he had fought. Audrey interrupted him hastily. "Oh, silence, sir! Why say such dangerous words?" "Because, madam, dangerous words befit a dangerous man," he answered more gently. "And"--smiling sadly at his own excitement--"and there are many that will tell you I am a dangerous man." "No, no; I am sure you are no evil doer, and, I am sure you can if you list, keep silence from such wild words."