us get on," she said hurriedly. "Let us get
on as fast as we can to the inn."

They turned again, and took the downward
path before them. In less than a minute
they had lost sight of Porthgenna Tower, of
the old church, and of the whole of the
western view. Still, though there was now
nothing but the blank darkening moorland
to look back at, Sarah persisted in stopping
at frequent intervals, as long as there was
any light left, to glance behind her. She
made no remark; she offered no excuse for
thus delaying the journey back to the inn.
It was only when they arrived within sight
of the lights of the post-town that she ceased
looking back, and that she spoke to her
companion. The few words she addressed to
him amounted to nothing more than a request
that he would ask for a private sitting-room,
as soon as they reached their place of
sojourn for the night.

They ordered beds at the inn, and were
shown into the best parlour to wait for supper.
The moment they were alone, Sarah drew a
chair close to the old man's side, and whispered
these words in his ear:—

"Uncle! we have been followed every step
of the way from Porthgenna Tower to this
place."

"So! so! And how do you know that?"
inquired Uncle Joseph.

"Hush! Somebody may be listening at
the door, somebody may be creeping under
the window. You noticed that boy who was
digging on the moor?-—

"Bah! Why, Sarah! do you frighten
yourself, do you try to frighten me about a
boy?"

"O, not so loud! not so loud! They have
laid a trap for us. Uncle! I suspected it
when we first entered the doors of Porthgenna
Tower; I am sure of it now. What
did all that whispering mean between the
housekeeper and the steward, when we first
got into the hall? I watched their faces,
and I know they were talking about us.
They were not half surprised enough at seeing
us, not half surprised enough at hearing what
we wanted. Don't laugh at me, uncle!
There is real danger: it is no fancy of mine.
The keys—come closer—the keys of the
north-rooms have got new labels on them;
the doors have all been numbered. Think of
that! Think of the whispering when we
came in, and the whispering afterwards, in
the housekeeper's room, when you got up to
go away. You noticed the sudden change in
that man's behaviour, after the housekeeper
spoke to him—you must have noticed it?
They let us in too easily, and they let us out
too easily. No, no! I am not deluding myself.
There was some secret motive for
letting us into the house, and some secret
motive for letting us out again. That boy on
the moor betrays it, if nothing else does. I
saw him following us all the way here, as
plainly as I see you. I am not frightened
without reason, this time. As surely as we
two are together in this room, there is a
trap laid for us by the people at Porthgenna
Tower!"

"A trap? What trap? And how? and
why? and wherefore?" inquired Uncle
Joseph, expressing bewilderment by waving
both his hands rapidly to and fro close before
his eyes.

"They want to make me speak, they want
to follow me, they want to find out where I
go, they want to ask me questions," she
answered, trembling violently. "Uncle! you
remember what I told you of those crazed
words I said to Mrs. Frankland—I ought to
have cut my tongue out rather than have
spoken them! They have done dreadful
mischief—I am certain of it—dreadful
mischief already. I have made myself suspected!
I shall be questioned, if Mrs. Frankland finds
me out again. She will try to find me out—
we shall be inquired after here—we must
destroy all trace of where we go to next—
we must make sure that the people at this
inn can answer no questions —O, Uncle
Joseph! whatever we do, let us make sure of
that!"

"Good," said the old man, nodding his
head with a perfectly self-satisfied air. "Be
quite easy, my child, and leave it to me to
make sure. When you are gone to-bed, I
shall send for the landlord, and I shall say,
'Get us a little carriage, if you please, sir, to
take us back again to-morrow to the coach
for Truro.'"

"No, no, no! we must not hire a carriage
here."

"And I say, yes, yes, yes! We will hire a
carriage here, because I will, first of all, make
sure with the landlord. Listen. I shall say
to him, 'If there come after us, people, with
inquisitive looks in their eyes and uncomfortable
questions in their mouths—if you
please, sir, hold your tongue.' Then, I shall
wink my eye, I shall lay my finger, so, to
the side of my nose, I shall give one little
laugh that means much—and, crick! crack!
I have made sure of the landlord; and there
is an end of it!"

"We must not trust the landlord, uncle;
we must not trust anybody. When we leave
this place to-morrow, we must leave it on
foot, and take care that no living soul
follows us. Look! here is a map of West
Cornwall hanging up on the wall, with roads
and cross-roads all marked on it. We may
find out, beforehand, what direction we
ought to walk in. A night's rest will give
me all the strength I want; and we have no
luggage that we cannot carry. You have
nothing but your knapsack, and I have
nothing but the little carpet-bag you lent
me. We can walk six, seven, even ten miles,
with resting by the way. Come here, and
look at the map—pray, pray come and look
at the map!"

Protesting against the abandonment of his