"No!" I cried, "I will not. Look you, I have seen that maid this very night. If you were a man such as a woman could love, if the maid did not loathe you, I would not have given either of you a second thought. But even although it may not be possible for me to lift a finger on her behalf, I will not bind myself by a promise not to help her. Why, man,"--and my anger got the better of me,--"it were sending a maid to hell to make her the wife of such as you!" I heard Benet Killigrew laugh. "Good!" he cried; "the fellow's a man!" But Otho was mad with rage. He gave an angry cry, and then leaped on me; but I threw him from me. I looked around for my sword; but before I could reach it, the two men I had seen acting as sentinels rushed into the room, and I was overpowered. Still I made a fair fight. Twice did I throw the men from me, and I know that they carried bruises for many a day. But one unarmed man against three is weary work, and at length I was dragged from the room. One thing I could not help noticing, however: Benet took no part in the business. He simply held the candle and looked on, occasionally uttering cries of joy when I seemed to be getting the best of the battle. When I was left alone in a room at the basement of the castle, I at first upbraided myself because of my foolishness. I had acted the part of a madman. And yet, on reconsidering the matter, I did not see what I could have done other than what I did. True, my prison walls might hinder me, but my promise did not. It might be possible to escape in spite of the bolts of a jailer--my people had done this often; but none had ever tried to escape from their promises. Then I thought of my promise to Peter Trevisa. Well, I knew not at the time I undertook his work what I knew when I lay imprisoned, or I would not have made it. Besides, I could pay the forfeit. The bargain was honourably made. If I failed to bring the maid to him within a certain time, I had lost Trevanion. My debt of honour would be paid. On reflection, therefore, though I was ill pleased at being confined in that dark cell, I felt strangely light-hearted. I was no longer acting a lie. I should no longer skulk under the name of Penryn. I did not believe the Killigrews would murder me, neither would they starve me. I was not a weakling, and I could look for means of escape. If I could succeed in gaining my freedom, I vowed I would take away the maid Nancy Molesworth, if for no other reason than to spite the Killigrews.