"That is all," I said when I had finished; "but believe me in this at least: I did not fully realize what my premise meant, and you cannot think worse of my conduct than I think myself. I know it was unworthy, but it shall not turn out to your ill. If it is in the power of man, I will take you to the place to which you would go." "Shall we ride faster?" she said presently. "Yes," I replied, "but which way? Will you go by road or water?" "If we go to Veryan, we pass Tresillian, I think you said?" "I do not remember saying so, but it is true." "Then we will go that way." For the next few miles we rode rapidly, neither speaking a word, but presently she slackened her horse's pace. "How far is Tresillian from here?" she asked. "About one mile." "Thank you for being so frank," she said after a few seconds of silence. "I know it must be unpleasant for me to be near you," I said bitterly; "but believe me, I will trouble you no longer than I can help." "When you have taken me to my destination, what will you do?" "I shall start for London." "Why?" "There can be nothing left for me in Cornwall. I shall join the King's standard, and honourably seek my way to fortune." "You will lose your home, the home of your fathers?" "It must be." "You say that--that man gave you money." "Yes, but he will be amply recouped. All the same, I shall send him the amount as soon as I have earned it." "What kind of man is he? And what kind of man is--is his son?" Again I did not spare myself, indeed I took a sort of savage delight in describing the two men I had promised to serve. "And if you had taken me to Treviscoe, you would claim the deeds. You would have fulfilled your obligations to them, and the old homestead would be yours?" "Forgive me," I cried, "I did not know I could have become so base," and indeed at that moment I felt unworthy to ride by her side. "Can you think of Trevisa's purpose in wanting to get me there?" she asked, without seeming to notice my words. "I think I told you," I replied bitterly. "Yes, but he told you nothing of the means by which he hoped to carry out his purpose?" "No, it was nothing to me. I was desperate, mad. Besides I thought not of that, and I--I loved adventure." "But you give me your sacred promise that you will take me wherever I desire to go?" "You know I do. I despise myself. Believe me, I am not at heart a base villain, and I am anxious to prove to you how bitterly I repent--what I bargained to do. I long to break my miserable promise; nay, I shall be glad to bear the consequences of failing to redeem my pledge to him. I--I will do anything, suffer anything to carry out your purposes." This I said hesitatingly, because it came to me that I was betraying the love for her which was burning in my heart. "You mean, then, that you will take me wherever I ask you?" "Yes, yes!" I said eagerly. "Then take me to Treviscoe, to the home of these--these Trevisas." I started back aghast. "No, no!" I cried.