He kept his eyes on me all the time he spoke as if he would read my very soul, and I winced at the thought that I appeared under an assumed name, for I hate fighting an under-handed battle. At the same time I was sure that had I appeared as a Trevanion, I should have been ill-received. "It is but little wonder in these rough times, that suspicion is aroused," I said. "There are many rumours of treason afloat in my part of the country. Indeed, Hugh Boscawen is reported to be raising an army to put down a rebellion there at this time." He nodded his head, still eyeing me keenly. "Know you Hugh Boscawen?" he asked. "Not well," I replied, "but I have seen him." "And have thought of joining his ranks?" he asked. "Nay, a Penryn strikes not a blow for the House of Hanover, when the real King of England is perhaps eating his heart away in France, yonder." "Ah, say you so?" he cried eagerly. He seemed to be about to say more, but checked himself. "We will not talk of these things now," he said; "perchance when you have been here a few hours we can discuss such matters. Besides, here come my sons. You are a strapping fellow, Roger Penryn, but methinks my Benet is taller." A servant entered bearing a huge haunch of beef, another followed bearing other things, and then all being ready we fell to right heartily. Old Colman Killigrew talked pleasantly with me as we ate, and when the meal was over he pressed wine upon me. But I had passed the age of hot-blooded boyhood, and, knowing the work I had to do, drank cautiously, for a man filled with wine has a loose tongue and an unwary head. "Hath old Uncle Anthony supped?" asked Colman Killigrew presently. "Let him come in when he is ready." I was glad to have the old man say this, for I was becoming weary of the talk of the young Killigrews. They drank freely, and grew heedless as to the language they used. For, careless as I was in those days, I loved not to hear men speak of maidens as though they were brute beasts. I have also discovered that men, when they live away from the society of women altogether, grow churlish. I had seen this in my own life, although I had not fallen so low as these men of Endellion. One among these sons, however, was different from the rest. He was neither tall nor handsome like his brothers. I discovered that he was called Otho, after an ancient member of the race, and seemed to be regarded as the wise-man of the family. He had more learning too than the others, and spoke with more taste. He was not pleasant to look upon; he had a short bull-neck, and there was a round upon his back which almost approached a hump. I saw, however, that his hands were large and his wrists thick. Moreover, his legs, while ill-shaped, were thickset and evidently powerful. He did not drink freely like the others, nor did he talk much, but he watched me closely.