So after all Sir Anthony had his way, and stalked out, stiff and unbending. Nor was there any falling off, but rather an increase in the respect with which his people rose, according to custom, as he passed. Yet under that increase of respect lay a something which cut the old man to the heart. He saw that his dependents pitied him while they honored him; that they thought him a fool for running his head against a stone wall--as Martin Luther put it--even while they felt that there was something grand in it too. During the rest of the day he went about his usual employments, but probably with little zest. He had done what he had done without any very clear idea how he was going to proceed. Between his loyalty in all else and his treason in this, it would not have been easy for a Solomon to choose a consistent path. And Sir Anthony was no Solomon. He chose at last to carry himself as if there were no danger--as if the thing which had happened were unimportant. He ordered no change and took no precautions. He shut his ears to the whispering which went on among the servants, and his eyes to the watch which by some secret order of Baldwin was kept upon the Ridgeway. It was something of a shock to him, therefore, when his daughter came to him after breakfast next morning, looking pale and heavy-eyed, and, breaking through the respect which had hitherto kept her silent, begged him to go away. "To go away?" he cried. He rose from his oak chair and glared at her. Then his feelings found their easiest vent in anger. "What do you mean, girl?" he blustered, "Go away? Go where?" But she did not quail. Indeed she had her suggestion ready. "To the Mere Farm in the Forest, sir," she answered earnestly. "They will not look for you there; and Martin says----" "Martin? The fool!" His face grew redder and redder. This was too much. He loved order and discipline; and to be advised in such matters by a woman and a fool! It was intolerable! "Go to, girl!" he cried, fuming. "I wondered where you had got your tale so pat. So you and the fool have been putting your heads together! Go! Go and spin, and leave these maters to men! Do you think that my brother, after traveling the world over, has not got a head on his shoulders? Do you think, if there were danger, he and I would not have foreseen it?" He waved his hand and turned away expecting her to go. But Petronilla did not go. She had something else to say and though the task was painful she was resolved to say it. "Father, one word," she murmured. "About my uncle." "Well, well! What about him?" "I distrust him, sir," she ventured, in a low tone, her color rising. "The servants do not like him. They fear him, and suspect him of I know not what." "The servants!" Sir Anthony answered in an awful tone.