"Are you ill, my little one?" I asked. She started up like one frightened. "Oh, Jasper!" she cried; "do you know me? Are you so much better? Oh, my love, my love!" Somehow, I know not how it was, but strength came back to me then, so I lifted my arms, and my little maid nestled her head on me and sobbed her joy. "You are sure you will get better, Jasper?" "Yes, sure." Presently we fell to talking, for I wanted to know what had taken place, and she told me little by little, as I could take it in. "Where am I?" I asked. "Where? why, at Pennington, your home." "Yes; and the Tresidders?" A cloud came over her face. "Richard Tresidder's mother is dead," she said. "That night when you were shot there was a great commotion. She had what the folks call a seizure, and she never spoke again. In her hand she held a pistol, but it is not believed that she shot you. My father thinks it was Nick, and that she pulled the pistol from him. She only lived a few hours, and was buried three days later." I heaved a sigh of relief. Thank God I had been saved from this. All the same, I felt sad that my little maid suffered it all. "And Nick?" I asked presently. "He left Pennington that night. No one knows where he is now, except his father." "And he?" "My father knows where he is. I do not." "And so I am at Pennington all alone?" "My father is here. I would not leave you; I could not, you know, Jasper." Thus while the rooks cawed in their joy and the dogs barked I lay, while my little maid sat by my side, and told me the things which my heart yearned to know. Presently her father came, and when he knew how well I was, he said he must return to Trevose as soon as possible and take my Naomi with him. "But what am I to do without her?" I asked woefully. "You must get well, Jasper, and come to Trevose to see her." After that he told me many things which I need not write here concerning the Tresidders, and of the way they had acted--told me why he had behaved so strangely to me; and how to deceive them, and thus gain his rights without difficulty, he had pretended to fall in with their wishes. A little later he went with my Naomi to Trevose, and my love made me promise to come to her quickly. I did this, as you may be sure; nevertheless, springtime had come and the leaves were bursting forth from the trees ere I was strong enough to go to Trevose. But I did not go in vain, neither did I return to Pennington again without the sweet maid for whom I would willingly have laid down my life. We were wedded at St. Eval by the jolly parson who had told me about Lanherne House, and that very same day we posted to Pennington, the home of the Penningtons for long generations. And now I have told my tale, told it truly in spite of evil reports and foul lies. Let Richard Tresidder and his son Nick, who are both alive, and who, I trust, will read what I have written, point to one wrong statement. This they cannot do.