“Ay, and none too harshly either, for some of them! villains, thieves, plunderers that they be! See here, sir”—and her tone dropped again to a whisper, as she came quite close to him, and laid one hand almost caressingly on his sleeve—“there’s no sympathy in my heart for them that would have done you harm, no, nor for the man that murdered that poor coastguardsman when first you came hither! I love not such folks, sir, whatever you may think of me! And see, sir, to prove to you how earnestly I do grieve for the ill they have done, I am ready to give you up the murderer of the coastguardsman into your hand, ay, for I know who ’twas that did it, and I can put you in the way of evidence to prove it too!” Tregenna started and flushed. He had not the least doubt that this woman could indeed do as she offered to do, that she could deliver the murderer into the hands of justice. But he shrank from accepting her suggestion, not only with instinctive mistrust of a woman who was ready to deliver up her own lover, but with not unnatural suspicion that she might be a traitress to both sides. So he got off the balustrade, and said coldly— “I thank you, Mistress, for your offer: but I believe the hands of justice will need no more aid than they have got!” Then Ann, without any appearance of ill-feeling, laughed softly. “Maybe the hands of justice are less powerful than you think, sir,” said she. “But, at any rate, I hope you will think kindly of the woman who, for your sake, was ready to risk her safety, nay, her life maybe, to help you!” As she spoke, in a tone of inexpressible tenderness, she came very near to the young lieutenant, and gazed into his face with a look so melting, so passionate, that he was stirred, fascinated, in a very high degree. It was impossible to be cold to her, however great his innermost disapproval of her might be. He had bent his head to reply, when a footstep on the gravel behind the yew-hedge, followed by a loud outburst of laughter, caused him to start, and to look round. Peering at the pair through a gap in the hedge he saw the face of young Bertram Waldron, flushed with wine, twisted into malevolent contortions of coarse amusement. “Ho, ho, ho!” laughed the young cub, “here’s sport, egad! I’ll wager she gives you a smack o’ the face before she’s done, like to the one she gave me but this morning.” Tregenna made but one step in his direction when Bertram prudently retired; and they heard his cracked laugh as he went rapidly back to the house. It was some moments before Tregenna and Ann could resume their interrupted conversation. Indeed, Tregenna was anxious to break it off altogether, but Ann persisted, following him as he turned to move away, and detaining him with a gesture which was half peremptory, half imploring.