I looked eagerly toward the direction from which I had heard the sound, and saw a door opening. A little old man entered. Evidently he was a serving-man, just as one sees in most old houses. Even then I concluded that he was one who had spent most of his life in some well-ordered house. His clothes were spotlessly clean, the buckles on his shoes shone, his stockings were without blemish. His wig, too, was powdered carefully, and all his linen was faultless.

All this made me wonder the more greatly as to where I was.

He met my questioning look calmly, and looked at me critically.

"Ah, you are better," he remarked, quietly.

"Would you tell me where I am?" I asked.

"You are safe from harm," he replied, vaguely.

"And why am I here?" I asked.

"To be kept from harm."

"And how long have I been here?"

"It is not for me to tell you. You have been very ill."

"What has been the matter with me?"

"You have had fever. Once I thought you would have died; but you have been nursed safely through it, and I have doctored you successfully."

"Are you a doctor, then?"

"I have some knowledge of the human system and of medicines. It is well, otherwise you would never have lived through your sickness."

His face showed no emotion whatever, neither did it in the slightest degree indicate his thoughts. He spoke in perfectly measured tones, and each word was enunciated clearly. Many thoughts flashed through my mind, and many questions rose to my lips, but the old man's presence seemed to check them. Moreover, I felt very weak.

"I shall be well and strong soon," I said.

He came to me, felt my pulse, examined me in various ways, and said, quietly, "Yes, I think you will soon be well. You are a very strong man."

"What will become of me then?"

"You will stay here."

"How long?"

"I do not know."

"But why was I brought here?"

"To be kept from harm."

"What harm?"

"It is not for me to say."

"By whose command was I brought here?"

"I shall not tell you."

"But you can tell me where I am. This seems a part of a big house, an old house. Whose is it, and where is it?"

"I shall not tell you. You will receive nothing but kindness while you behave seemingly, if not, means will be used to check you."

"I am a prisoner, then?"

"Yes, you are a prisoner, if you are pleased to call it so."

"But am I to have no liberty? Am I not to leave this room? I cannot live penned up here."

"I shall speak no further to you. Food will be brought, and no harm will happen to you."

With that he left the room as quietly as he came, and I heard his footsteps echoing again as I had heard them when he came to me. For a time my brain seemed to grow weak again, and in spite of my anxiety I dropped into a fitful sleep, from which I was aroused by the chinking of crockery near me.

My sleep made me feel stronger; I felt far better than when the old man had visited me. I looked around the room again, and saw a hard-featured woman. She, too, was elderly, fast beating on toward sixty. She placed a basin of gruel at my side.

"'Ere," she said, "ait this."

"Ah," I thought, "I am still in Cornwall. Anyhow, the woman speaks with a Cornish accent."

I thought I might fare better with her than with the old man, so I tried to gain some information from her.

"Let's see," I said, "what part of Cornwall are we in?"

"Ait yer mait, an' ax no questions," was her response.

I ate the gruel with a good appetite. It was carefully made, and seemed to be seasoned with some pleasant-tasting cordial. When I had finished the old woman grunted with satisfaction.

"It is very nice," I said – "very nice. Whoever made it knows her work. Did you make it?"

"Who es ther' that knaweth how to make sich stuff as that but me?" she said.

Her answer set me thinking, and I drew two conclusions. One was that the old woman was vulnerable to flattery, the other was that she did not hail from that part of the county in which I was reared. The word "knaweth" told me that she belonged to the northern part of the county.

I put another question in order to test the truth of both these conclusions.

"You look too much of a lady to be the cook," I said, "and yet I thought the cook would naturally make such things."

"Ther's no cook. Her's gone. I'm in charge."

She said this proudly, but although her answer was brief, it confirmed me in my suspicions. People in the western part of the county would say "She's gone," so when she said, "Her's gone," I was sure that she hailed from either Devon or from somewhere in the region of Tintagel and Boscastle.

"It must be a place of importance," I said. "Have you lived here long?"

"I was born in this parish."

"Let's see, this is near St. Minver, isn't it?"

"Ax me no questions and I'll tell 'ee no lies," was the reply.

But she had let me know more than she imagined. She had told me that she was born in the parish where my prison was situated, and I knew by her brogue that the parish was situated a good many miles north of St. Eve.

I asked her many more questions, but she would answer none that gave me any further information concerning my whereabouts. As to why I was there she seemed as ignorant as myself.

After this I lay many days on my bed – how many I do not know. The mornings dawned and the daylight departed by; I did not pay much heed. From the remarks of the little man, who constantly visited me, I judged that some complication had arisen in my case, and so my recovery was delayed. At length, however, I felt myself grow stronger again, and then daily health came to my blood and vitality to my being.

By and by I was able to rise from my bed, and a suit of clothes of antiquated cut was given me to wear.

"What month is this?" I asked one day of the old man when he came to see me.

"It would do you no good to know," he replied.

"Yes it would," I replied; "I should have got better before this if I had not been harassed by so many doubts and questionings."

"Well, then, it is October."

"October! What part of the month?"

"Yes, October. To-day is the fifteenth of the month."

"Then I have been here three months."

He was silent.

"What is the year?" I asked, eagerly.

The little man smiled. "Oh, you need not fear. This is the year 1745. You have been here three months. I see you wish to ask more questions, but I shall not answer them."

For several days after that I asked no questions, for a great despair laid hold of me. Although I had not been told, I was sure I knew why I had been kidnapped and made a prisoner. I believed, too, that my illness was not a natural one, and I could have sworn that I was kept out of the way because Richard Tresidder feared me. This thought was not altogether unpleasant. It could not be because of the Pennington estates – there was no immediate danger concerning that – it was because of Naomi. He had discovered that she and I had met, and I believed that he had concluded what I fondly hoped, although the foundation seemed poor, that Naomi loved me. If this were so, I could understand why he should want to keep me away from Pennington, for if Naomi loved me, and was willing to wed me, even although she could not marry until she was twenty-one, the position was a constant menace to Richard Tresidder; for if, when she came of age, she became my wife, Trevose Estate would at once be wrested from his hands, while I should be able to buy back Pennington.

I considered these matters many times as I lay there. They came to me not clearly, but in a vague way; not quickly, but slowly and at rare intervals, while my strength came gradually back to me.

All this time I knew not where I was, for I was not allowed to go outside the room in which I had been imprisoned. Neither had my strength been sufficient to climb to the little window I have mentioned in order to look out. I was kindly treated, my food was good, and brought regularly; my room was kept clean, and I was carefully attended to. But not one of my attendants would tell me anything. Moreover, as I became stronger they seemed to watch me more closely.

One morning after breakfast, I judged that the sky was bright by the light which streamed into my room, and as I felt very much better, and knowing that no one would come to my prison for an hour or two, I decided to try and climb to the window, so that I might see what my surroundings were. This proved to be a harder task than I anticipated, but after many vain endeavours I at length reached the little aperture and looked out.

My head became almost dizzy as I looked. Outside a great sea was running. I saw the breakers lash themselves into foam upon the rocks, and I saw a bold, ragged cliff stretching, as I judged, southward as far as my eyes could reach. Then I looked beneath me, and I saw that my prison had been built on the edge of the cliff. So high was I above the beach beneath that at first I could not measure the distance, but presently, as my eyes became accustomed to the sight, I was able to make my calculation. As far as I could judge I was at least two hundred feet above the roaring, rushing torrent beneath – probably the distance was greater. Escape by that means, then, was an impossibility.

I looked long and eagerly at the boiling surf and the weather-beaten cliffs which stretched far away in each direction. I watched the breakers as they hurled themselves on the rocks far, far down beneath me. The sight filled me with dull despair.

I tried to open the window, but it was fastened firmly. After repeated efforts, however, I managed to remove it about three inches from the frame, but I could not move it more owing to the iron bars that had been placed across. The fresh air blew in from the sea, which gave me great pleasure; it also cleared my mind somewhat, and acting on the impulse of the moment I tied my handkerchief to the iron bar. I did not see how it could do any good, but it could do no harm, and might possibly attract attention.

I looked again at the great waste of water, and marked the tumultuous tossing of the waves, and then I closed the window again, feeling that I could do nothing to effect my liberty.

I went back to my bed again and began to consider my condition. My mind for the moment seemed clear, and I was able to understand my position, and all the events I have related came back to my memory. Then I remembered that I always became dazed and drowsy after drinking the medicine which was given me. A torpor always crept over me, and I was incapable of definite action. This made me wonder still more.

I heard the sound of footsteps echoing along a passage, and a minute later the little old man I have mentioned came to me.

"It is time for you to have your medicine," he said.

Hitherto I had drunk it without demur; now I determined to avoid taking it.

"I will attend to it presently," I said, "but for the present I want us to talk together. I suppose you know you are placing yourself in great danger by keeping me here?"

He was silent.

"Of course," I went on, "I know that you are only the tool of others. My enemy's name begins with T, doesn't it?"

He gave a start, but did not speak.

"This cannot last much longer," I said; "I have friends who will be searching for me. Hanging's a serious matter. I shall take serious steps when I get away from here."

"When you do," he replied, significantly.

"Do you think I shall stay here always?" I retorted.

"How can you get away? This morning you climbed up and looked out of that window. You did not know I saw you, but I did. Well, what did you see? You know you are on the top of a cliff, and it is nearly three hundred feet to the beach. Well, you cannot escape that way; if you tried you would break your neck. Very well; the only other way to escape is to try and escape through that door. Well, what would happen then? You would not get up the passage a dozen steps before you would be shot."

"By whom?"

"By those who guard a dangerous madman."

"Oh, I see. I'm mad, am I?"

"Certainly."

"And is this an asylum?"

"It's not for you to know."

"Still it would go hard with Richard Tresidder if his perfidy should come out."

"It can never come out. Yes, I know what is in your mind. Well, supposing you get well enough to be set at liberty? You would be taken to Pendennis Castle as mysteriously as you have been taken here. But where are you? You cannot tell. Are you in England, Ireland, or Scotland? You do not know."

"How long shall I be kept here, then?"

"Not, I should think, more than a week. You seem to be very much improved in your health."

Now this set me wondering greatly, for I did not expect such a revelation. Still I managed to remain calm.

"You know why I am here, then?"

"Certainly. You have been a madman; as such you have been a constant menace to Miss Naomi Penryn. She has been much afraid of you, and has dreaded the thought of your being at liberty."

"Little man," I said, "you know this is a lie."

"I wish it were. I have nothing whatever against you; on the contrary, I rather like you."

He spoke this kindly, and I detected, as I thought, a friendly look in his face, so acting on the impulse of the moment I said to him, "Will you listen to what I have to tell you?"

"Yes," he said, "I will listen."

Then I told him briefly all I thought necessary to tell, and yet I felt that I had not the power to tell the truth well.

"Your history seems very plausible, young man," he said, "but I have been warned against you."

"But Miss Naomi Penryn knows that I am not a madman, neither have I annoyed her in any way."

"You lie. I myself received a letter from her before you were brought here."

"Let me see that letter."

"No. Enough that I have told the truth. She fears you; she pleaded that you might be guarded until such time as it should be safe for you to be at liberty."

"Are you sure the letter was written by her own hand? Do you know her handwriting?"

"Know her handwriting! Why?" Then he added, quietly, "Yes, I know her handwriting."

"But why do you think I shall be set at liberty in a week?"

"Because she will have a protector."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that to-day she is being married to Master Nicholas Tresidder."

"To-day?"

"Yes, to-day."

"Go away," I said – "go away, for the sake of God. I want to be alone to think."

He looked at me I thought pitifully and kindly; then he heaved a sigh and went away.

When he was gone I lay for hours like one stunned. Food was brought to me, but I took no notice. Had poison been left in the room I believe I should have taken it, so weary of life was I. They had worked their will, then, and Naomi had been forced into an unholy marriage with the man who I was sure she did not love.

I thought of trying to climb to the window, of breaking the glass, wrenching the iron bars from the wall, and falling headlong upon the rocks below, but I was too weak. I made a score of futile plans, each madder than the other.

Presently I became more calm. Might not this be all lies? Or, again, even if it were true, ought I not, instead of contemplating suicide, to be brave and watchful, so that I might be able to protect her? Would she not as Nick Tresidder's wife need a friend? Besides – and then a score of conflicting thoughts seethed in my brain.

Presently I began to try and understand the meaning of the old man's words about being set at liberty in a week. What did it mean? If she was to be married that day, why was I not set at liberty at once? Then I came to the conclusion that the man who was my gaoler would have to wait for orders. Richard Tresidder would wait until the marriage was consummated before he would communicate with him.

But I will not try and recount all my thoughts. Many of them were doubtless wild and foolish, neither would they interest those who may chance read this narrative.

For the next week, in spite of my despairing thoughts, I looked forward to my being set at liberty. I counted the days eagerly, and daily did I ask questions of the little old man who came to see me when my captivity should be ended. But he always shook his head, neither could I get from him any other answer.

When the week ended I expected something to happen. I should be probably blindfolded, pinioned, and conveyed to the walls of Pendennis Castle. But I was disappointed. A fortnight passed away, and still there was no change in my condition.

"What is the meaning of this?" I asked. "Why am I not liberated as you promised?"

But he gave no reply. Once I thought he would have spoken, for he seemed strangely moved, as though his mind were filled with doubts, but he left me without telling me the doubts which were in his mind.

Another week passed away, and in spite of myself I began to hope. If my captivity were to continue until Naomi was wedded to Nick Tresidder, did not my continued imprisonment show that the marriage had not taken place? I remembered Naomi's words. I thought of the look she gave me when she bade me good-bye. Yes, I felt sure she loved me, and that she had refused to wed my enemy! I still fretted and fumed at my imprisonment; I longed with a longing beyond words to be free, but this thought was like a beacon light to a shipwrecked sailor. It gave me strength, too. In spite of everything health surged back into my being.

But my release did not come.

The days began to grow very cold, and I asked for a fire, but none was given me, and my captivity was hard to bear. I think I should have gone mad but for a Bible that had been given me. I read again and again the Book of Job; especially did my mind rest upon his latter days when the sun shone upon him again.

One day the little man, who had told me to call him Jonathan, came into my cell weeping.

"What ails you, Jonathan?" I said.

"Alas!" was his reply.

"What?" I cried eagerly.

"My little Naomi is dead!" he said.

"Your little Naomi – dead!" I repeated, like one dazed. "What do you mean?"

He started as though he had told me too much.

But I was not to be trifled with. I caught him and held him fast.

"You have made me desperate," I said; "I must know all now. Who told you that she was dead? What do you mean by calling her your Naomi? I must know everything."

"I dare not!" he cried, distractedly – "I dare not, I am afraid."

"Afraid of whom?"

"Richard Tresidder. He will be master of – " He stopped, and then he wept bitterly.

My hands dropped from him, for my strength had gone.

"Tell me," I said – "tell me, Jonathan, all you know."

He kept sobbing, and this made me pity him, but no tears came to my own eyes. My heart became cold and seemed as hard as a stone.

"She did not wed Master Nicholas Tresidder," he said; "and – and, oh, God forgive me, but since then she has died."

For a time I could not collect my thoughts, the news seemed to have unhinged my mind, but presently I remembered. I thought of what I had heard Richard Tresidder say, and many wild thoughts came into my mind.

"If she is dead," I said at length, "you can set me free."

"No, no, I – " He got up from the stool on which he had been sitting and left the room. I heard him lock the door behind him, and I had no strength to hinder him. At that moment I cared for nothing.

CHAPTER XVI
I HEAR A STRANGE NOISE IN MY PRISON – THE SECRET PASSAGE WHICH I FOUND – A WILD STRUGGLE, AND A HAIRBREADTH ESCAPE

I have said many times that I am not a man of quick understanding, neither was I ever clever at explaining puzzles. At that time, however, my brain seemed more than ordinarily active, and I saw things with a clearness that I had never seen before. Besides, I was sure that in the past I had been rendered partially incapable by the drugs which had been given me. Anyhow, the sudden shock seemed to have given me greater clearness of vision, so that I was able to comprehend things far more clearly than in the past. Hitherto, with the exception of occasional flashes of light, all had been dull, now I seemed to see the truth plainly. That which had come to me as vague conjectures now appeared as certainties, and in spite of the old man's dread news, I had more hope than in the past. I felt sure there were many things as yet unexplained. With my greater mental activity came also more physical vigour. I felt myself capable of trying to escape. I wondered at myself, Jasper Pennington, being kept so long a prisoner without making any attempt at escaping, and I determined that very day to take some definite steps to obtain my liberty. I therefore ate my dinner eagerly when it was brought, for I felt that I should need all my strength, but within half an hour from the time the meal was ended a feeling of torpor again crept over me, and I fell asleep, neither did I wake for several hours. After I awoke some two or three hours passed before my vision was again clear. I saw then that if I were to take any definite action, I must refrain from the food provided for me, and this also placed me in a dilemma, for if I ate no food how could I retain my strength? What was done must be done quickly. Not only had my medicine contained a powerful narcotic, but my food also was drugged.

Consequently I did not partake of my night meal, but instead I feigned illness when it was brought, and afterward thought of many things which I hoped to do.

Presently, by the great silence which prevailed, I concluded that the inhabitants of my prison house had gone to rest, so I got up and tried the door. It was built strongly, but I believed it could be wrenched open if I had something in the shape of a crowbar. I thought of every article in the room, but could fasten on nothing suitable for the purpose, when I remembered the iron bars which had been placed outside the window. I climbed to the little opening in the wall, and opened the window as far as I was able. The cold air came rushing in, giving strength to my resolution. I seized one of the bars, but it did not move. Then I put forth my strength, which had been slowly coming back to me, and in a few minutes had torn it from the wall.

"It will act as a weapon as well as a crowbar," I mused; then I got back to the door and began to try and place the iron between the door and the hinges. I had no light, and so I had to find out the crevice with my fingers. While trying to do this I gave a start. I was sure I heard a noise under my feet. At first it sounded like footsteps, then I heard a scraping against the floor. I listened intently, and presently I was able to locate the sound. It was just under the bed on which I had been lying.

As quickly as I was able I removed the bed, and then listened again. For a time all was silent, then I heard a sound again, only this time it was different. Three knocks followed each other in quick succession, and I heard the boards vibrate under my feet.

"Is it a friend or enemy, I wonder?" I asked myself, and I grasped the iron bar more firmly.

I heard the boards creak as though something were pressed against them, but I could see nothing. Only a very faint light crept through the window which I had partially opened. Presently the boards began to give way. I knew this by a light which streamed into the room. Then I saw the floor move, and I heard a voice say, "Maaster Jasper."

I knew the voice immediately. There was only one person in the world who could speak in such a tone.

"Eli!" I cried, joyfully.

"Doan't 'ee holla, Maaster Jasper," said Eli, in his hoarse, croaking voice, "but come to once."

"Where?"

"Away from 'ere. Ther's some steps down to the say. Come on."

I needed no second bidding. I knew that Eli was thoroughly trustworthy, and so I lifted the boards, which proved to be a trap-door, and then, putting one foot through, I realised that I stood on a stone step.

"Come after me, Maaster Jasper," said Eli; "maake 'aste, they may come after us."

So I squeezed my body through the trap-doorway, and prepared to follow him.

"Cloase thickey trap, Maaster Jasper," said Eli, and I saw his strange eyes shining in the dim light.

In my eagerness to do this I made the thing drop heavily, and the noise echoed and re-echoed through the building.

"That'll waake 'em up," cried Eli. "Come on, come vast, Maaster Jasper!"

With an agility of which no man would have thought him capable, he hurried down the steps, mumbling fiercely to himself all the time. I soon found that this stairway was very crooked and often small. I imagined then, what I have since found to be true, that the house in which I had been imprisoned had been used as a place of storage for smuggled goods, while the way by which I was trying to escape was a secret way to it.

We had not descended many yards before I heard voices above, while I knew that feet were tramping on the floor of my late prison. Evidently the noise I had made in closing the trap-door had aroused my warders, and they would now do their utmost to capture me.

My senses were now fully alive, and I determined that it should go hard with those who tried to hinder my escape. To my dismay I discovered that I had left my iron bar behind, and that I had no weapons, save my two hands, which had naturally been weakened by my long imprisonment. However, there was no time for despair, so I followed close on Eli's heels, who wriggled his way down the crooked and often difficult descent.

We must have got down perhaps one hundred feet, when, turning a corner, a current of air came up, blowing out Eli's light and leaving us in darkness.

"Can 'ee zee, Maaster Jasper?" cried Eli.

"Just a little. Can you?"

"I cud allays zee in the dark," he grunted, but his statement was not altogether borne out, for his speed was much lessened. Still we managed to get on fairly well, for Eli could see in places which to most people would be impenetrable darkness, and I had been so much accustomed to the dark that I was not altogether helpless.

After all I suppose it is difficult to find perfect darkness. Light is only a relative term, and depends very much on the nature of our eyes. Thus it was that while we could not go nearly so fast as we had been going, we could still with difficulty find our way.

Presently we heard the sound of footsteps, and I knew by their rapid movement that our pursuers would gain upon us. Eagerly we hurried on, and each minute the sound of the footsteps behind us became plainer.

"How much farther, Eli?" I panted.

"A long way yet, and a hard job when we git to the end," he replied.

"How?"

"The mouth of this 'ere addit es fathoms above the say," he replied.

"How did you get here?" then I asked.

"I'll tell 'ee when we git away," he said, impatiently.

Then I chided myself for asking so much, for even these few words must have somewhat lessened our speed.

Meanwhile, the steps came nearer and nearer.

"Stop!" cried Eli, presently.

We stopped suddenly, while we both listened eagerly.

"There be three on 'em," he grunted.

"Yes, or more."

"No, only three – we caan't git away – "

"We must, we will!" I cried.

"Only by fightin' 'em."

"Well, then, we'll fight them," I cried.

"Come on then – there es a big place down 'ere. Furder down tes awful to git along, and we caan't go wi'out a light."

A few seconds later we stood in an open place. It was almost round, and might have been twenty feet across. I saw this by the light which Eli managed to fit as soon as we got there. It took him some few seconds to fit it, however, and by that time our pursuers were upon us.

I saw in a second that two of them looked like serving-men, the third was dressed as a gentleman. I could not see his face, however, but I thought he looked a strong man. To my joy none appeared to be armed. Eli stood by my side, but his head was no higher than my loins. Thus I and the dwarf had to battle with the three. I did not wait a second. I dared not, for my liberty, perhaps my life, were at stake. Besides, I believed, in spite of what I had heard, that Naomi was not dead. Had she been I should have been removed from my prison, if not set at liberty; at least, such was my belief.

Without hesitation, therefore, before a word could be spoken, I struck one of the serving-men a tremendous blow. He staggered against the side of the cave with a thud, and fell like a lump of lead. For a little while at all events we should be two to two, for Eli, insignificant as he seemed, was a formidable opponent, although at that time I did not believe him to be a match for a well-grown man.

Encouraged by the success of my blow, I made a leap on the man I took to be a gentleman. My blow was, however, warded off, and I received a stunning blow behind the ear.

Now during the time I had been imprisoned I had, as I have stated, been kept in a half-dazed condition, and although my strength had been slowly coming back to me, I was weak compared with the time when I had been taken a prisoner at Pendennis Castle. My food had been drugged, and my enforced inactivity had made my sinews soft like a woman's. Besides, I felt I had met with a skilled fighter, and I knew by the blow he gave me that he was a strong man. Moreover, I doubted Eli's ability to engage with the other serving-man, and this made me doubtful about the result of our struggle.

All this passed through my mind in a second, but I did not yield, for while the want of hope takes away strength, despair makes men desperate, and I was desperate. Somehow, although I could not tell why, I felt I was fighting for Naomi as well as myself. So, reckless of consequences, I made a second leap on my opponent and caught him by the collar, and then some wrappings which had partially obscured his face fell off, and I saw Nick Tresidder.

He writhed and struggled in my hands, but I held him fast.

"Ah, Nick Tresidder," I cried, "we meet face to face, then. Well, I've got an adder by the throat, and I mean to hold him there."

"Yes," he said, "we meet face to face." Then with a sudden twist he made himself free.

For a second I looked hastily around the cave. A torch was lying on the floor which lit up our strange meeting-place, and near it I saw Eli struggling with the serving-man.

He looked at me scornfully, while I, panting and partially exhausted, tried to harden my sinews for a second attack. I determined to be careful, however. I knew Nick Tresidder of old; I knew he would fight with all the cunning of a serpent, and that he had as many tricks as a monkey, so that, while he would be no match for me had my strength been normal, he would now possibly be my master in my comparative weakness.