"I wish to know when you could perform the marriage rite, father," I asked, noting the friendly and unsuspicious way with which his eyes rested on me. "Ha," he said kindly, "then you are one of the few faithful ones yet to be found in the country. You look on marriage as a sacrament, and not a mere legal business like the heretics of these parts." "I trust so, father. When could you wed us?" "Is the maid here in Padstow?" he asked. "Nay," I replied. "She is at present with heretics, but she is of the true faith." "What is her name, my son?" Then I told him a tale I had been weaving through the day, and which was so plausible that he did not appear to doubt it. "I could wed you to-morrow," he said at length, for it will be remembered that this took place in 1745, eight years before the famous law passed by Lord Hardwicke, through whose influence it was decreed that banns of marriage must be publicly announced in the parish church in order for the ceremony to be legal. "I do not think I could bring her here to-morrow," I said cautiously. "Then I am afraid you will have to wait a few days, my son," he replied. "Why father?" I asked. "Because to-morrow night I go to the Killigrews at Endellion, and shall stay there three or four days." "You know when you will return from Endellion, I suppose?" I asked quietly. "I shall stay no longer than four days," was his reply; "at the end of that time I must return." "So if I came to you after that time, all would be well?" "Yes; but speak not of it, my son, we of the true faith are sorely harried in this country. Cornish people love not the Stuarts, although in some countries their return is longed for. Until the right time comes, we must be cautious." I knew all I desired now, and should be able to act accordingly. My journey had not been in vain, and before long I left him, my head all a-whirl with many thoughts. I waited not an hour longer at Padstow, and not wishing to cross the river again by means of the ferry, I determined to ride to Wadebridge, and from thence make my way to the village of St. Kew, where I could leave Chestnut, and then go afoot to Endellion, which was only two miles away.