I pulled off my clothes, and got to bed; but I could not sleep. Two
conflicting forces were at war within me. One moment I reproached myself
as a fool for not being able to deceive a slip of a maid without
stammering. The next I found myself pitying her, and calling myself a
traitor to my name for not seeking to rescue her from the Killigrews.
Sometimes I cursed myself for being as easily moved as a boy of
twenty-one, not able to withstand the simple questions of a
convent-school girl; and again I reproached myself for yielding to Peter
Trevisa's wishes, and undertaking a work unfit for a man of honour.
Presently a more serious matter presented itself to me. Should I abandon
Peter Trevisa's commission? The maid had practically rejected my offer.
Should I go back to Treviscoe and tell him that I had failed? Should I
forever carry around with me the memory of the fact that I had made a
promise to do a thing, and then at the first difficulty I had given it
up like a puling girl? I had taken his money, I had given my word that I
would do his work;--could I give it up? Even although Trevanion did not
lie at the end of the business, it were unfair and cowardly to fail in
my undertaking thus. Well, supposing I decided to make a second attempt;
suppose I decided to devise new means to take the maid away--there were
many obstacles in my road. Old Colman Killigrew expected me to depart
the next day. I had promised to take his messages to some Catholic
families in the south of the country, and I should have no excuse for
staying at Endellion. Once outside the house, my power to do anything
would be gone.
"Let it be so," I said to myself angrily. "I will leave the whole
business in the lurch. Let old Peter do his work as best he may, and let
the maid Nancy Molesworth fight her own battles with these Killigrews.
To-morrow I will start for London, and there I will seek for work more
congenial to me. If this Charles comes to England, King George will need
good swords." But even as these thoughts passed through my mind, I was
not satisfied with them. I felt I should be playing a coward's part, and
was seeking some other way whereby to better satisfy myself, when I
heard a low knocking at the door. I did not speak, and the rapping
became louder.
"Who is there?" I asked, like one awaked out of sleep.
"Otho Killigrew," said a voice.
CHAPTER VIII.
OTHO DISCOVERS MY NAME.
"He hath discovered where I have been," was my first thought. "He hath
been told that I have conversed with the maid Nancy Molesworth." And I
began to think how I should answer him.
I got out of bed, however; and after hastily pulling on my
small-clothes, I went to the door.
"What want you?" I asked sleepily. "Surely this is a queer time of
night to wake one out of sleep."
"Let me in, and I will tell you," he replied.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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