, 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 cou