"I'll see him for myself," she said, with a resolute light in her eyes. "I'll get the truth from his own lips. I'm sure he will not lie to me."
It was quite dark when she reached the village, save for the twinkling lights in cottage windows.
She met a few people, but no one recognised her, enveloped as she was in a heavy cloak. For a moment or two she paused before the door of the Penlogans' cottage. Her heart was beating very fast, and she felt like a bird of evil omen. If Ralph was innocent, then he knew nothing of the trouble that was looming ahead, and she would be the petrel to announce the coming storm.
She gave a timid rat-tat at the door, and after a moment or two it was opened by Ruth.
"Why, Miss Dorothy!" And Ruth started back in surprise.
"Is your brother at home?" Dorothy questioned, with a little gasp.
"Would you mind asking him to come to the door. I have only a moment or two to spare."
"You had better come into the passage," Ruth said, "and I will go at once and tell him you are here."
Dorothy stepped over the threshold and stood under the small lamp that lighted the tiny hall.
In a few moments Ralph stood before her, his cheeks flushed, and an eager, questioning light in his eyes.
She looked at him eagerly for a moment before she spoke, and could not help thinking how handsome he looked.
"I have come on a strange errand," she said, speaking rapidly, "and I fear there is more trouble in store for you. But tell me first, have you ever lifted a finger against my father?"
"And you have never planned, or purposed, or attempted to do him harm?"
"Why, no, Miss Dorothy. Why should you think of such a thing?"
"My father was shot this afternoon in Treliskey Plantation. He saw a face for a moment peering over a hedge; the next moment there was a flash and a report, and a part of the charge entered his left arm and shoulder. He is in bed now, and Mr. Tregonning is taking his depositions. He vows that it was your face that he saw peering over the hedge--that it was you who shot him."
Ralph's face grew ashen while she was speaking, and a look almost of terror crept into his eyes. The difficulty and peril of his position revealed themselves in a moment. How could he prove that Sir John Hamblyn was mistaken?