“I thank you for your warning. But ’tis alone I must go. Surely you do not credit your friend Mistress Ann with any intention of luring me into a danger she must know of.” But to his surprise, Joan’s face clearly betrayed that she did believe Ann Price capable of such a proceeding. At least, this was what he read in her perturbed expression. “Ann is a strange creature,” said she dubiously. “She is a most loyal _friend_, but——” The pause which ensued was expressive. “But a dangerous enemy. Is that what you would say?” “Maybe,” said Joan, curtly. “Well, I must risk what she can do——” “Even though you know not how much that may be?” “Even then.” There was another pause. “When do you purpose going?” asked Joan, suddenly. “Ah, that I may not tell you.” “You trust me not, sir? You think I would betray you into the hands of them that would do you harm?” “Nay, I do not say that. I do not think that. But, as you keep your own counsel where these smugglers are concerned, so do I think it best to keep mine own.” Joan bowed her head proudly, as if in assent. But she was not at her ease; she glanced at him quickly, and he saw that there were tears in her dark eyes, whether of mortification, of sympathy, or of some other feeling, he could not tell. As they stood silent, he looking at her, and she turning towards the ivy-hung window, the voice of the vicar startled them both, as he called— “Joan, where art thou, child?” “Here, father,” cried she, as, with a rather startled, shamefaced look at Tregenna, she ran into the dining-parlor, followed more slowly by her companion. Neither of the young people had noticed, so much interested had they been in their own conversation, that the voices of the two gentlemen had gradually sunk to more friendly tones. But both were glad to see, on re-entering the room where they had left the disputants, that the battle of tongues was over, and that the general was sitting by the fireside in an attitude indicative of a more friendly mood. And Joan was bidden to bring the currant wine, in which both the brigadier and Tregenna pledged their host right heartily, whatever suspicions they might have as to the existence of a stronger liquor in the cellar. They all spent a pleasant ten minutes over the wine and discreet small talk, and then the visitors took their leave. As the brigadier shook hands with his host, Joan found an opportunity to exchange a few more words with the younger guest. “Will you not take one last word of warning, sir, and refrain from visiting Rede Hall alone?” “I fear I can give you no such promise, though I thank you for your kindness.” “Which, nevertheless, you trust not. Farewell then, sir; for if you keep to your intention, I shall never see you again alive.” CHAPTER X. THE MYSTERY OF THE GRAY BARN.