A mile or so below Penryn, he turned up the road that ran down to the
ferry there, and took his way home over the shoulder of the hill with a
slack rein. It was not his usual way. He was wont ever to go round by
Trefusis Point that he might take a glimpse at the walls of the house
that harboured Rosamund and a glance at the window of her bower. But
to-night he thought the shorter road over the hill would be the safer
way. If he went by Godolphin Court he might chance to meet Peter again,
and his past anger warned him against courting such a meeting, warned
him to avoid it lest evil should betide. Indeed, so imperious was the
warning, and such were his fears of himself after what had just passed,
that he resolved to leave Penarrow on the next day. Whither he would go
he did not then determine. He might repair to London, and he might even
go upon another cruise--an idea which he had lately dismissed under
Rosamund's earnest intercession. But it was imperative that he should
quit the neighbourhood, and place a distance between Peter Godolphin and
himself until such time as he might take Rosamund to wife. Eight months
or so of exile; but what matter? Better so than that he should be
driven into some deed that would compel him to spend his whole lifetime
apart from her. He would write, and she would understand and approve
when he told her what had passed that day.
The resolve was firmly implanted in him by the time he reached Penarrow,
and he felt himself uplifted by it and by the promise it afforded him
that thus his future happiness would be assured.
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