I considered the matter again. I thought of the Trevanion deeds, and the forgiveness of half the debts my father had contracted. On the other hand, I pictured myself going into the world a landless wanderer, after having turned all the old servants adrift. It was not pleasant. Then I tried to realize the work these two Trevisas wanted me to do. Should I bring a maid, badly as she might be treated by the Killigrews (and I much doubted this portion of their narrative), a maid well born and beauteous, to be the wife of a crawling worm like young Peter Trevisa? But this did not trouble me much. What did I care who she married? Killigrew, a giant cut-throat, or Trevisa, a weak-chested, knocked-kneed, sensual little vermin?--it mattered not. Neither did I trouble much as to who possessed the Restormel lands. Still I was a Trevanion, and a Trevanion hates dirty work--at least of that kind. On the other hand, I loved adventure. The thought of spiting these Killigrews and taking the maid from them, even though I knew little of them, except that they were Papists, stirred my blood. True I did not understand all the motives of the Trevisas in selecting me to do this work, but that did not matter. I doubted much if the maid would consent to marry young Peter, although I brought her to Treviscoe. That, however, was not my business. Old Peter regarded his son as a handsome man, with brains enough for two; I knew him to be a flat-chested, ugly weakling with plenty of cunning. "Have you made up your mind?" asked old Peter at length. "Yes," I cried. "You will undertake the work?" "On conditions." He got up from his seat and held out his hand to me. "Let's shake hands on it," he cried. "Not yet," I replied; "I must name my conditions first." "Well, what are they, Roger, lad? Don't be unreasonable." "First," I replied, "this business will need money. It may take many weeks. I know not what will happen to me on the way. I must not go to Endellion a moneyless man." "We have thought of that," replied young Peter; "there are a hundred guineas in this bag." "That is well," I replied; "it is a stingy allowance, but it may suffice. The next condition I make is, that you draw up a writing stating what you have just promised me." "It shall be done." "Then send for Mr. Hendy, my attorney, without delay." "Why?" "That it may be placed in his hands." "I--I cannot consent to that," cried old Peter. "I want no other person to know our plans. I will keep the paper safely, lad, quite safely." I thought I saw his cunning now. If they kept the agreement, I should be quite powerless to claim my own, even if I did my work. I saw, too, why they were so willing to offer liberal terms.