"It is my advice, my wish that you go there, Trevanion, and you have the right." "And I, my lord?" remarked Otho, who had been listening intently, "may I be privileged to know where I am to go?" "You are a prisoner," replied Boscawen. It was sore grief for me to see my dear maid ride away with Boscawen, even although it was best for her to do so. Indeed there seemed no way in which I could serve her. In spite of her safety, therefore, I rode to Trevanion with a sad heart; for truly all seemed darkness when she was not near. I was weak and ill, too, for although I had disobeyed Dr. Inch in going to Treviscoe that night, I was scarcely fit to undertake the journey. It was late when I reached Trevanion, so late that the servants had gone to bed, but old Daniel was quickly aroused, and no sooner did he know that it was I who called to him than his joy knew no bounds. In a few minutes every servant in the place was dressed, all eager to serve me. The tears come into my eyes as I write even now, for I call to mind the looks on their faces, their tearful eyes, and their protestations of joy. I suppose I had been an indulgent master, but I had done nothing to deserve the affection they lavished on me. "God bless 'ee, Master Roger; God bless 'ee!" they said again and again as they hovered around me. All this gave me sadness as well as joy, because of the fact that shortly they would all have to seek another master. Once back in the old home again, it became dearer to me than ever. Each room had its history, every article of furniture was associated with some incident in the history of the Trevanions. Again and again I wandered around the house, and then, unable to restrain myself, I went out into the night and wandered among the great oaks in the park, and plucked the early spring flowers. The night had become gloriously fine, and I could plainly see the outlines of the old homestead, which was never so dear to me as now. I heard the clock striking the hour, and although it was two in the morning, I did not go in, it was so joyful to breathe the pure spring air and to wander among the places I had haunted as a boy. "Maaster Roger!" It was old Daniel who shouted. "Yes, Daniel; anything the matter?" "Aw, no sur, we was onnly wonderin' ef you wos oal saafe, sur; tes oal right." "If it were only really mine," I thought, "and if those faithful old servants could only have my dear Nancy as mistress. If I could but bring her here, and say, 'This is all yours, my dear maid.'"