needed me. I dreamed often that she was persecuted by the
Tresidders, and that they were using many cruel means to make her marry
Nick. I was afraid, too, that she, friendless and alone as she was,
would at length be forced to yield to their wishes. And so although I
had not moved one inch forward in the direction of winning back what was
rightly my own, and although I could seemingly do no good by so doing, I
determined that I would go back to Pennington again, and if possible
obtain another interview with Naomi. My heart was very sad, for every
day my love seemed to grow more hopeless. I had told her the desire of
my heart, but although she had been kind to me, and had sacrificed much,
she had not told me with her own lips that she cared for me more than
she might care for any man who she thought was unjustly treated.

And thus the old proverb that "actions speak louder than words" is not
true. For actions may be misinterpreted and misunderstood. Often I tried
to comfort myself with the thought that had she not cared for me more
than she cared for any other, she would not have granted me an interview
that night when I escaped from Cap'n Jack's gang. Again I told myself
many hundreds of times that did her heart not beat for me she would
never have braved her uncle's anger, braved the cruel questions at
Falmouth, and bore what must be hard for a shrinking maiden to bear. But
for all this I could not believe that her heart was mine. How could it
be? Who was I that I should be so blessed? A landless wanderer, who had
been pilloried as a vagabond, and hooted at by the scum of the earth.
No, actions did not speak loud enough for me. Nothing but the words from
her own dear lips, saying, "Jasper, I love you," could convince me,
unworthy as I was, that I could be aught to her.

All the same I determined to go to her, I determined to see her, for my
heart ached in my hunger to be near her, and my eyes would not be
satisfied until they again feasted on her beauty.

It was early in July when I landed in Falmouth Harbour. I think it was
on the first of the month. It was late in the afternoon when I set foot
on solid earth, but I did not stay in the town. Like one possessed I
hurried toward St. Eve, and about half past nine at night I stood in
front of Betsey Fraddam's cottage.

"Come in, Maaster Jasper," said the old woman; "supper es zet fur three.
I knawed you wos a-comin', and zo ded Eli."

So I entered the hut, and there