"You shall stay at the house to-night, old man," I said; "what is your name?" "I have many names," he replied, "but many call me David, because I am cunning with the harp and can charm away evil spirits, even as King David of old charmed away the evil spirits from the heart of Saul. There is only one sad thought in the heart of your dear lady to-night, and that my harp shall charm away." After the guests were all gone that night I called the old minstrel to the room where my forefathers had sat, and where my Nancy and I had come. The lights were not yet lit, for it was near midsummer, and the night shone almost like day. The windows were open too, and I cared not to shut out the sweet air of that summer evening. He came, bearing his harp with him, and when we were alone I spoke freely. "Uncle Anthony," I said, "take off the patches from your eyes and stand upright." "Ah, you have penetrated my disguise?" he said. "Even before you spoke so strangely," I replied. "I will not take off my patches, and I must not stay at your house to-night, Roger Trevanion," he said quietly. "In an hour from now I must be on my way again." "But why?" "I am not yet safe. For the present I will say no more. Sometime, perchance, I may come to your house as an honoured guest." "And you shall have a royal welcome," was my answer. "But before I go, I would drive away the one cloud in the sky." I did not speak, for truly I was in the dark as to his meaning. "You, my lady Nancy," said Uncle Anthony, turning towards her, "believe that you are not mistress of Restormel. I found out old Peter Trevisa's secret, and so, although my heart was saddened at the failure of my plans, and although you, Roger Trevanion, caused their failure, I determined, after all our hopes were shattered, that I would find out the truth." "And what have you discovered?" I asked eagerly. "I have been to Ireland--to many places," he answered, "and now I have come to give my lady Nancy her wedding dowry. Here it is," and he placed a package in my love's hands. "There is proof," he went on, "that your father's marriage was valid, proof that none can deny, and so Restormel is rightfully yours." At this my dear love broke down altogether, for she had never dreamed of this, but soon her tears were wiped away and her eyes shone again. "O Roger!" she cried, "I am glad now that you thought I was poor when you married me." Concerning the meaning of this I have asked her many times, but she will not tell me, neither can I think what it is, for I am sure she never doubted my love. "And what hath become of the Killigrews?" I asked presently, after many things were said which I need not here write down.