"'Nother branch ov the fam'ly, my deear; but ther', she nothin' to you. She's good, she's purty, an' she's rich, but she's for Nick Trezidder. Thews Trezidders do bait the Penningtons, don't 'em?" And Betsey laughed again. But I held my tongue. I determined that I would not tell the secret of my heart, although Betsey's words hurt me like knife-stabs. "Well, an' when winter do come, what be 'ee goin' to do then, Jasper, an' 'ow be 'ee goin' to git 'nough to buy back Pennington?" "I must think, Betsey," I said. "I must think. But I'll do it--I'll do it!" "Aisy spok, but not so aisy done. How?" "I'll help 'un," said Eli. "You! 'Ow can you 'elp 'un?" But Eli only hugged himself and laughed, as though he were tickled. After that but little was said that I can remember. Before daylight came I went back to the cave. I was sure that neither Betsey nor Eli would tell of my hiding-place. I was glad for this, because I knew that if Dick Tresidder knew where I was I should be taken back to the whipping-post, and perhaps imprisoned. Besides, I was sure that he feared me, and that he would do everything in his power to make me suffer. So I determined to stay in Granfer Fraddam's Cave as long as I could, and I knew that Eli would find out everything about what went on at Pennington and tell me. Looking back now, my conduct seems foolish in the extreme. I could do no good by staying in the cave, I could not get an inch nearer my purpose. It would have been far more sensible to have sailed to some distant land and sought for fortune. And I will admit that I was tempted to do this, and should have left St. Eve, but for a strange longing to stay near Pennington, knowing as I did that Naomi Penryn was there, and that, although I had never spoken to her, I loved the dear maid every hour of my life more and more. One day, I think it was about a week after I had taken up my abode in the cave, I was sitting at its mouth and looking across the narrow bay, and watching the tide come up, when I was strangely startled. I remember that in dreaming of Naomi Penryn a feeling of despair had come into my heart, for I saw no chance whatever of ever seeing her again, much less speaking to her. Besides, even if it were possible for me to win her love I had no right to do so. Pennington seemed further from my grasp than ever, while Richard Tresidder's hold on it grew stronger day by day. I was thinking of these things when I saw, two or three hundred yards out at sea, standing on a rock, a woman's form. The rock was a large one, and went by the name of "The Spanish Cavalier." It rose from the beach to the height of fifteen feet, and was never covered save at high tides. There was, moreover, a curious place in the rock, not unlike an arm-chair, in which one might sit and watch the shining waves. All around it was grouped a number of smaller rocks, which boatmen always avoided, because driving on them was dangerous.