"How can I accept the help of a man who comes with a lie on his lips?" she cried;--"who comes professing a false name, and who pretends to be the friend of a man to whom he never spoke. How can I trust a man whose every action and every word is a lie?" "Had I been a liar," I said, "I could have deceived you easily; but enough. There is no need that I should weary you with my presence. Some time perhaps----" "If your name is not Roger Penryn, what is it?" she said; "and why have you tried to raise my hopes only to deceive me?" I opened my mouth to tell her my name, but I could not utter the word. I could not tell her I was a Trevanion, nor relate to her my purpose in coming hither. "It is not well I should speak to you further," I said. "But I have wrought you no harm. Neither would I if you had trusted in me. Nay, as God is my witness,"--and this I cried out passionately, for somehow the maid dragged the words from me,--"I would have let no harm have happened to you!" With this I walked to the spot where I had ascended, and prepared to descend. "Stop!" she whispered. "It will be far more difficult to go down than it was to come up." "What of that?" I replied grimly. "Because,"--and a blush mantled her cheek,--"there is another road down. Look, yonder is the stairway." "There is a sentinel." "He is a lover of my maid," she replied. "She would lead him away a few steps out of sight while you got to your own chamber." "But I should have to pass through your apartments." "Amelia shall show you the way. I will remain here." "No," I replied, for I was angry with her. "I will not be beholden to you in any way." For the first time she looked at me kindly, but I took no heed. I placed my arm around the merlon, and then, grasping the gutter, lowered myself. I had often accomplished such feats, and this fact helped me now. In a few minutes I had reached the ledge, and a little later stood on the old castle walls again. Arrived there, I stopped and listened; but no sound reached me. I looked up, and saw that the maid Nancy Molesworth had followed my descent--saw that she was watching me now. There was an expression of wonder, of bewilderment, on her face. Doubtless she was seeking to divine who I was, and why I should come to her. I was sure she wanted a friend, too. But I knew not what to say--I had forfeited my right to help her. I suppose I was foolish at the moment, however. Most men are at times. "Good-night, Mistress Nancy Molesworth," I said. "Remember that I am your friend. Perhaps some day I may be able to show it." Then I squeezed myself into my bed-chamber, feeling ill pleased with myself.