"How do you know?" "I've found out." I must confess I did not like the work. The idea that I should take a maid barely twenty-one from the man claiming to be her guardian, and bring her to Treviscoe, the home of these two Trevisas, was repellent to me. I was not over-particular what I did as a rule, but this caused a nasty taste in my mouth. This Nancy Molesworth might marry young Peter, crawling ugly worm as he was, that was nothing to me; what matter it who women married? He might have the Restormel lands too, if he could get them. Still, although I had given myself pretty much over to the devil during the last few years, I did not like the thought that a Trevanion should do the dirty work of a Trevisa. Had they told me all? Why should they select me for this mission? And why should they be willing to pay such a big price? There were plenty of gangs of cut-throats in Cornwall who would do their bidding for a less sum. "You had better place this affair in other hands," I said at length. "Haven't we offered enough?" cried young Peter. "It's too dear at any price, I am afraid," I replied, and yet my heart went out toward Trevanion as I spoke. "You are prepared to give up your old home, discharge your old servants, and become nameless then?" old Peter said, his ferrety eyes fastened on me all the while. "Others would do it cheaper," I replied; "far cheaper. Tom Belowda's gang would attempt the work for a hundred guineas." Young Peter lost his head as I spoke. "Could I trust the sweet maid with a gang of roughs?" he cried; "besides, we should place ourselves in their power, they would know our secrets." "It would pay them not to tell." "Aye, but a secret held by such ceases to be a secret." I saw that my game was to hold back, and I continued to do so. The thought of retaining Trevanion grew dearer each minute, but I did not let them know. "It's a difficult task," I suggested, still continuing to pace the room. "Not so difficult for such as you," said old Peter coaxingly. "When you Trevanions make up your mind to do a thing you do it, although the furies stand in your way. You are as strong as a horse and if need be could fight like a fiend from the bottomless pit. Not that there would be any need," he added quickly. "If it is so easy," I retorted, "let young Peter do this himself. He says he loves this maid, and love," I laughed sneeringly, "overcomes all difficulties. This is just the work for a lover. It smacks of far-off days. Let Peter attack the castle like the knights of past ages, and bear off his bride in triumph. He would make a fine sight carrying a maid on his crupper." I saw a look of vindictive hatred shine from young Peter's eyes, but he said nothing. "Peter is not fit for such work," was the old man's reply. "He was delicate from a child. Riding wearies him, he has neither the strength nor the daring necessary." "You say that Killigrew has sons?" I said at length, a new thought flashing into my mind. "Yes."