"But I am here," I replied grimly; "and there was no other way of getting here from my chamber. One has to risk something if you are to be saved from the Killigrews." "What do you know of the Killigrews?" she asked eagerly. She followed me a few steps out of ear-shot of the serving-maid, still keeping her face hidden. "I know that you are to be the wife of Otho Killigrew, unless desperate measures are taken," I replied. "I know, too, that Benet Killigrew professes to love you." "How do you know?" "You are Mistress Nancy Molesworth, are you not?" "Yes, and you are Master Roger Penryn, so my maid tells me. But I do not know you." She let the shawl with which she had wrapped her head fall, and for the first time I saw her face. She was but little more than twenty years of age, and in the moonlight looked younger. As far as I could judge, her hair was of chestnut hue, and it flashed brightly even in the night light. Her face appeared very pale, and her eyes shone as though she were much excited; but she was a very beautiful maid. She was not of the timid, shrinking kind which some men love, but stood up before me bravely, for the which even then I was glad. Nor was she little, and weak; rather she was taller than most women, and shaped with much beauty. "It matters but little whether you know me or not, if you will trust me," I said. "Believe me, I have come to take you away from this den of cutthroats to a place of safety." "Where?" "Where would you go?" I asked. My head was bare, and my face was plainly to be seen, so bright was the night. I felt her eyes fastened upon me, and it seemed to me as though she were reading my innermost thoughts. But I was not to be baulked by a girl, so I tried to appear unconcerned as she gazed. "You met John Polperro at the Arundells," I continued. "He has offered his hand to you in marriage, but your guardian refused. Last night he came here and repeated that offer, but it was declined. He is a fine fellow, Polperro, and spoke boldly." "I know," said she--speaking, as I thought, more to herself than to me. "After your guardian had refused his request that you might become his wife," I went on, "he offered you a home in his father's house. He spoke hotly, indiscreetly, but still as an honest man; that offer was also refused. Perchance you have been informed of this?" She did not speak, nor did she make any sign whatever. "It is impossible for Polperro to help you now. If he again appears in the neighbourhood, he will receive steel for a welcome. But I admire him. I am always proud to call such as he my friend; so if I can take you to his father's house, I shall be doing a good deed, and rendering a service to one he loves." This I said in a stammering kind of way, for somehow the girl's eyes made me feel uncomfortable. I wished she would not look at me so steadfastly. "Know you Master John Polperro?" she asked presently.