On reaching the top of the stairway I saw a man walking to and fro; but he seemed to pay no heed to us as we passed by him. "You will stay a day or two with us, I trust?" remarked Otho. I answered in the affirmative. "And then?--go you farther north?" "That will depend on what your father thinks," I responded. He gave me a searching glance, but spoke no word more until we reached my bedroom door. "I am afraid you have had a rough welcome," he said; "but we have the name for a rough people. All the same, we are faithful to our friends." "Yes," I assented. "The Killigrews never yet turned their backs upon those who merited their friendship," concluded Otho; "but they never forgive those who betray their trust. Never!" He uttered the words slowly and distinctly, as was his manner of speech. "Sleep soundly, Roger Penryn," he said as he bade me good-night. "The Tower of London is not more safely guarded than Endellion." "It is good of you to tell me," I replied; "but a good sword and a ready hand are all I have needed in the past." To this he did not reply, and I heard his steps echo along the corridor. He walked slowly, like a man deep in thought. Did he suspect anything, or did my mission make me suspicious? The room into which I was ushered was plain and bare. The walls were whitewashed, the floor almost wholly uncovered. I sat for a long while on the bed in deep thought, and my musings were not pleasant. I almost regretted having undertaken to do Peter Trevisa's bidding. Not because of the danger. Nay, that was almost the only redeeming feature in the business. And yet I tried to persuade myself that my mission was good. Were not these Killigrews lawless men? Should I not be rendering signal service to the maid Nancy Molesworth by taking her away from a place which, according to Polperro, she loathed? And still I was not satisfied. Presently I thought I heard a rustling outside. Instantly I went to the door and opened it softly. The corridor was but dimly lighted, but I saw the retreating form of a woman. She did not look a well-bred dame; at the same time she was different from the serving-women I had seen in the hall. I started to follow her; but before I had taken two steps, she turned, and I saw her face. Dim as was the light, her features seemed familiar. Evidently she was a superior kind of serving-maid. In a moment, however, she vanished. "Ah," I thought, "there is some stairway yonder!" I looked cautiously around before starting to seek it, then stopped. I heard the clank of steel. I saw the man I had passed with Otho Killigrew, still pacing the corridor. "A sentinel, eh?" I mused; "truly, the place is guarded." Noiselessly I slid back to my room. The man had not seen me. My stockinged foot touched a piece of paper, which was carefully folded. Close to my bed the candles flickered in the socket; so, after carefully bolting my door, I made my way towards them. On unfolding the paper I saw one word only. The word was