her guests, and when later she conducted Barbara to her chamber, she
hung over her with a thousand tender offices, bathing her tired feet,
brushing out her tossed hair, doing all in her power to increase the
comfort of the weary girl.
"Eh! my dearie, my dearie," she cried pityingly. "What will they do to
thee? And so young, too, as thou art. But 'tis a black-hearted crew
they are, and no denying it. My heart bleeds for thee, my beauty. Curse
them! Curse them to hell, say I. Nay, my tongue runs wildly, I know,
but who could help it. Look you, my pretty, I have a son, even such as
thy brother yonder, but younger by some years. To the fight he would
go, I could not hold him back. And I sat here all that bloody night,
hearkening to the firing, dreaming that each shot bore his death. He
came not back. Then I went out to search; I sought night and day among
the slain, but he was not there. So I blessed Heaven, and waited his
return. But he comes not, nor sends, and I know not where he lies; at
times 'twould seem I can bear no more, but must e'en go seek him through
the world, till I find him. Ah, my lamb! my son, my bonny son, where
art thou?"
Thus she wailed, and Barbara, despite her weariness, comforted her as
best she might, praying to Heaven for pity on this sorrow no earthly
hand could soothe.
Presently the woman recovered, and with many apologies, rose to leave
the room, yet she turned once again before she reached the door.
"My dearie, it seems not possible to aid thee, yet be sure, an I can do
aught for thee, I will do it. And who can say? A chance may offer. I
will watch. Now sleep, I will weary thee no more."
In order to give more realism to the story of his capture, and also to
prevent their disturbance, Captain Protheroe chose to rest in the
parlour, out of which both the sleeping chambers led. As luck would
have it, they were the sole visitors to the inn, a little-frequented
place, and were consequently left to sleep in peace throughout the day.
They were full wearied, and it was not until five in the evening that
Captain Protheroe roused his companions, and summoning mine host, gave
orders that dinner be presently served.
The three adventurers were thoroughly refreshed by their long rest,
their spirits were high, and when they assembled at the meal they were
all prepared to play to the utmost advantage their several parts in the
game of chance upon which they had embarked.
Therefore, while mine host prepared the table, Captain Protheroe,
remembering his story, enquired most particularly whether his escort had
not yet arrived, expressing great indignation when he learned that it
was yet to be expected.
Barbara laughed mockingly behind mine host's fat back while this
conversation was toward. Her amusement increased as the game proceeded.
She longed to add dramatic touches of her own, but prudently refrained.
Nevertheless, she challenged the officer mischievously with her eyes,
and he, accepting the challenge, cursed the lazy trooper roundly, rated
mine host, and bade him keep sharp lookout lest the escort, missing the
house, ride past unheeding.
So they sat down to dinner, mocking at Fortune, jesting over the gulf
which yawned at their feet.
And Fortune, in revenge for their confidence, turned her wheel.
For, as danger oft shows least when nearest to hand, scarcely had they
commenced their meal when the sound of approaching horses broke upon
their ears, and two minutes later after a confusion of shouts, the door
was burst open, and mine host hurried into the room.
"Your honour!" he cried joyously. "All is well. Your honour's escort
has arrived."
Ralph dropped his knife with a rude clatter, and half started from his
seat, while a quick gasp of fear escaped from Barbara's white lips.
Captain Protheroe paused for a moment, his glass to his lips; cool
soldier though he was, his hand trembled and the red wine splashed over
the brim and stained his sleeve.
Then he turned on mine host with a sudden oath:
"What mean you by this intrusion, blockhead?" he thundered. "Shut the
door and say your say. What is't?"
"The escort, your honour," stammered mine host. "'Twas even as your
honour supposed. They had mistaken the place, and would have ridden
past, had I not hailed them, saying your honour was even here. They wait
in the street below."
"Let them wait, we cannot set out yet, before we have dined," retorted
the captain sharply. "See the men have drink, and leave us. Shut the
door behind you," he shouted as mine host left the room, "'tis most
infernally cold here."
Directly the door was closed, all three sprang to the window. 'Twas
even as the man had said. In the street below six mounted troopers were
drawn up; but their leader was not in sight, he stood talking to mine
host at the door.
"Heaven help us!" cried Ralph desperately. "What to do now, I wonder.
What in heaven and earth can we do?"
Barbara was silent, her eyes fixed on Captain Protheroe's face.
He strode the room fiercely as his custom was, in thought. Then he gave
a short laugh.
"So much for vainglorious boastings," he muttered. "Out of our own
mouths we are betrayed. Certes, the game is against us now. We could
hold the room--but that were folly. And escape is not to be thought on.
Yet--Pah! what a fool! No. I see nought to be done, save wear a bold
countenance, and play out the game to the end. 'Tis a wise maxim when
the luck turns. And it may be the men have not yet heard----"
Again the door was opened and mine host entered once more; the joyous
importance had died from his face; he looked depressed and dubious.
"Your honour!" he began nervously, "I seem, in my zeal to obey your
commands, to have mistaken the matter. These men are not your honour's
escort, but a party of dragoons riding from Bridgewater to Wells.
Nevertheless, seeing the escort does not yet arrive, and learning your
honour's difficulty, they put themselves at your honour's service. And
their honourable commander craves the honour of waiting upon your honour
in your honour's room."
A moment's perceptible silence, then with a curt "'Tis well, bring him
here," mine host was dismissed.
The three fugitives waited in silence for the man's return. Only when
the soldier's footstep sounded on the stairs, Captain Protheroe leaned
forward and laid his hand on Barbara's arm.
"Do not be afraid, Mistress Barbara." he said quickly. "We will win
safe through this somehow. Trust us."
And Barbara, with trembling lips, smiled bravely back at him.
"I am not afraid," she said simply.
Then mine host, with many obsequious bows, ushered in the visitor.
The officer was a big, blustering fellow, coarse of face, and rough in
manner. He strode noisily into the room, and on seeing the captain
burst into a boisterous laugh.
"Ha, Protheroe, my boy! Well met. The fellow below couldn't tell me
your name or I warrant you I'd have been up here long before. What's
all this about your escort, eh? Lost your horse, two captures, and the
fool of a trooper not yet returned. Ha, ha! Protheroe, you go well to
work. 'Tis good I came this way, you'd scarce fancy passing the night
here, eh? We are riding to Wells and can take you on with us."
"Good!" answered the captain quickly. "But we've no hurry to start yet
awhile. Sit down and drink, man, the night's young enough yet, and my
men may still come. Look you, fellow,"--to mine host,--"set out more
wine, and then begone and see to the men below. And harkee, don't come
crashing in like a wild bull again; if we want you I will call. And if
my men arrive, let them wait below. Now begone."
Then he turned to his guest.
"Come, Jonas, sit down, and drink; there's no need to start for another
hour."
Captain Jonas was standing in the centre of the room, hat in hand,
bowing elaborately to Barbara, and ogling her the while with his great
protruding eyes.
"By Jove, Protheroe!" he drawled, "is this your capture. Zounds! What
a prize. You're a hard man to keep such a beauty in limbo. Best put
yourself under my protection, mistress; I'll keep you safe. I'll not
swear to set you free, but at least I'll wager that pretty face shall
never waste in prison."
Checking swiftly an angry movement from Ralph, Barbara curtsied with
quiet dignity, and moved again to her seat at the table.
"Oh, ho! a lady, eh? Who is she, Protheroe?" asked Captain Jonas in an
audible whisper.
Captain Protheroe shrugged his shoulders.
"Pah! Only a rebel. Come, drink, man, and tell Us news. Where do you
hail from?"
"Bridgewater! As dead and drear a hole as ever man was quartered in.
Praise be to the devil we're moving on to Wells, and in a month we'll be
quit o' this cursed west country, where there is neither a pretty
woman--saving your presence, madame--nor a decent bottle of wine for a
man to solace himself withal. I thought you were at Taunton,
Protheroe!"
"I was--till yesterday. Is there no news from your way?"
"By-the-way, Protheroe!" he exclaimed with a sudden burst of laughter,
setting down his glass and slapping his knee. "How could I have forgot
it! I' faith there is news, news o' the queerest, and you are the very
man it concerns."
"Ah! What then?"
"A fellow came over from Taunton yesterday morning with the wildest
tale. Some cock-and-bull story of your arrest, and then later of a
prison-breaking, and your disappearance with some woman. But 'twas but
a half-drunk trooper, and as I was over in Taunton on Monday and heard
nought o' the matter, I beat the fellow as a slanderer of the King's
service. 'Twas all a lie, I suppose."
Captain Protheroe glanced quickly at the speaker. Then he leaned across
the table and poured out a fresh glass of wine.
"Well, no, not entirely a lie," he answered coolly. "I was arrested, a
jest of the colonel's, some wager with my Lord Jeffreys. I was released
in the morning, of course. The prison-breaking is true, too, 'twas the
same night. But a tale grows like a mushroom in the telling. Heard any
news from town?"
"What should I hear in a hole like Bridgewater?" answered Captain Jonas
indignantly.
Then he turned to Barbara, at whom he had been staring with insulting
openness ever since his entrance.
"I could swear I have seen your face before, madame, but I can't for the
life of me recollect where. 'Tisn't a face one forgets soon, neither,"
he continued, ogling her afresh.
"My poor face is honoured by your recollection, sir," answered the girl
coolly. "It must be some time ago that we met. Since my escape I have
necessarily had little converse with the King's officers."
The man laughed loudly.
"I don't doubt it, madame. Your escape, eh? So you broke prison, did
you? Was that long since?"
Barbara bit her lip in irritation at her slip.
"Some while since, sir. But few words make least mischief, so, an't
please you, I'll keep my story for the crown lawyers to devise. You can
hear it then, an you care to attend my trial."
"By Jove, madame, you have courage," laughed the man admiringly. "Come,
what is your name?"
"That also, sir, 'tis the lawyer's business to discover," she answered
calmly.
The soldier laughed once more, and turning to Captain Protheroe, he
entered forthwith into a keen discussion as to the merits of the new
regiments the King was then raising and the possibility of the formation
of a large standing army in the country.
The three conspirators drew sighs of relief at the change of subject,
and for some little time there was peace, while the new arrival
chattered, drank, and ogled Barbara, and they waited with anxious hearts
for the next move in the game.
Suddenly Captain Jonas broke off abruptly in the middle of a
dissertation concerning the absolute demand for more careful training of
cavalry, and after staring for a moment fixedly at the girl, he burst
into a quick laugh.
"By Jove! I have it," he shouted. "'Twas in court at Taunton, I saw
you, madame, and not later than Monday last. I saw your trial. What a
fool I am! And the name, the name? What was it now? Ha, ha! madame,
I'll have it in a minute, we'll not leave it to the lawyers to devise."
"Well! Lydia Philbeg, an you must have it," answered Barbara calmly.
But Captain Jonas shook his head.
"Softly, madame, it ran not so. Philbeg! No, I swear that was not the
name."
"What a pother about a name," interrupted Captain Protheroe impatiently.
"Leave the girl in peace, an she wishes to be unknown. Fill your glass,
man, and pass the bottle. 'Tis poor stuff, but what can one expect in
such a hole? Where are you quartered in Wells, eh?"
"We put up at the Green Buck. 'Tis not much of a place, but the wine is
fair, and old Dame Barbara has--By Heavens! the very name. That's queer
now. Barbara----Barba--Barbara Winslow or I'm a Dutchman! Your health,
Mistress Barbara Winslow. Ha, ha! I knew I'd remember it soon. We
toasted you after the trial, before I rode back to quarters. Lydia
Philbeg, forsooth! Ha, ha! madame, I've got you now!"
"'Well, I hope to goodness you're satisfied now, Jonas," answered the
Captain impatiently. "What a man you are for hunting a hare to death!"
But a sudden gravity had come over Captain Jonas.
"Barbara Winslow!" he muttered. "Zounds! Protheroe, that's queer.
'Tis the very name of the woman they said you had run off with from
Taunton gaol."
Captain Protheroe set down his glass suddenly. He saw suspicion dawning
in his companion's eyes. "Hang it all, Jonas! The fellow must have been
a d---- an infernal fool. Mistress Winslow escaped indeed, and I was
posted after her in pursuit, and caught her this morning. That's the
length of the story. Why, devil take you, man, if I had run off with
her, should I be here now? Not unless I was a greater fool than--than
you are."
But suspicion still hardened in the soldier's eyes.
"Then did the lady escape alone?" he questioned cunningly.
"I bore Mistress Winslow company," interrupted Ralph quietly.
Captain Jonas turned to him sharply.
"You?" he asked contemptuously. "And who may you be?"
The youth drew himself up haughtily.
"I am Sir Ralph Trevellyan," he answered, eyeing the captain defiantly.
"Ralph Trevellyan. Why that's the name o' the fellow who escaped us at
Burrows' Farm, four days syne. Burrows' son told me so himself, under
the whip. You never saw the inside of Taunton gaol, my friend."
"Tut! man," interposed Captain Protheroe lightly. "Let them have their
little romance. We can prove their identity well enow, so a lie more or
less is no matter, and seems to cheer their spirits mightily. Fill your
glass, and tell us the latest about the fair Arabella."
Captain Jonas darted a sharp glance at the speaker. Captain Protheroe
leaned back in his chair, and met the suspicious glance with a lazy
smile. But behind his nonchalant demeanour his wits worked shrewdly,
and he never for an instant took his eyes from his companion's face.
There was a slight pause. Then in an altered voice Captain Jonas asked:
"Where did you take them, Protheroe?"
"Peste! What a man you are for detail. If you must have the story, I
ran them to earth between four and five this morning, in hiding in Mart
Mill three miles south of Bridgewater."
A strange light crept into Captain Jonas' eyes. There was dead silence
for a moment before he answered in a strange voice:
"That is strange, Protheroe. I drew that cover myself this morning at
four o'clock, and I'll be sworn it was empty."
Then suddenly dashing down his glass, he sprang to his feet.
"By Heavens, Protheroe!" he shouted fiercely, "I believe you've been
lying to me from beginning to end."
But he got no further. Ere Captain Protheroe could snatch his sword
from its sheath, Ralph was at the man's throat, burying his fingers deep
in the soft flesh.
Captain Jonas was a strong man, and despite the suddenness of the
attack, he fought with desperate fury. They swayed together, tottered,
fell; rolling over in a wild indistinguishable mass of struggling limbs.
There was no sound, save only Ralph's quick breathing and now and again
a choking, inarticulate cry from Captain Jonas. Over again they rolled,
and now the man's struggles were weaker. Ralph's grip had told.
"Oh! are you killing him?" whispered Barbara, watching the struggle in
horror.
"No, he's not dead yet," gasped Ralph. "Out of the way, Barbara, while
we finish him."
"Ah, no! You will not kill him now!" she gasped.
"There will be no need if he is quiet," answered the captain quickly.
"But we must get him out of the way as soon as we can. Give me a cloth
to gag him."
Quickly Barbara tore off her kerchief, and together the men gagged his
mouth, and strapped his arms with his own sword-belt. They rifled his
pockets of money, and took sword and pistol, for necessity knows no law.
Meanwhile Captain Protheroe devised his plan.
"We must get out of here as soon as possible," he urged, "or these
cursed troopers will be down on us. And 'twere useless to slip away
secretly, 'twould but arouse suspicion, and bring mine host to the
search. We must play high again and carry it off by a bold show. What
then? The gallant captain is drunk, he would have been so in another
hour, had he been left in peace. We will put him to bed, and bid the
men leave him undisturbed. Then we take three of the troopers' horses
and ride off, leaving them to follow. when their officer is returned to
his senses. What say you?"
"But is there no risk----" began Barbara.
"Good Heavens! madame, of course there are, a thousand risks, but we
have no time to stop and count them. Once let the men discover us, and
it's all over. Now to bed with this gentleman. We must wait a little
to give him a reasonable time to get drunk, and then--away."
They carried Captain Jonas into one of the bed chambers, tied him
securely to the bed with one of the sheets, and covering him over well,
they left him, locking the door behind them.
Then they sat down to wait, their hearts leaping at every footstep,
watching the light fade in the west, and listening to the distant sounds
of the troopers carousing at the back of the house.
But after half an hour they could endure no more. Ralph's nerves were
shaken by the struggle, for his strength was not yet returned after his
wound, and Barbara was trembling from head to foot. So Captain
Protheroe resolved to wait no longer, but to make their escape while
they could.
Accordingly they descended the stairs, and summoning mine host, they
paid their reckoning generously, telling him at the same time that the
captain had gone to sleep and must in no wise be disturbed.
Mine host showed no surprise. He knew his wines, and doubtless was
accustomed to the speedy overthrow of his guests. Moreover, it was not
often that his house met with such patrons, and he blessed Heaven
secretly for his good fortune in sending him a second officer in need of
a night's shelter.
Then, with some misgivings Captain Protheroe summoned one of the
troopers, and bade him bring up three of the horses. But the man was
half-fuddled with drink, and only stared stupidly at the officer. So
they thrust him aside and unhitched the horses themselves, and the cool,
leisurely manner in which they went about the business disarmed
suspicion, and none made a motion to gainsay them.
Captain Protheroe lifted Barbara into the saddle. She was perforce
obliged to ride astride. He felt her tremble in his arms, but her face
was calm and firm.
The woman came out of the house with a cloak and wrapped it round her.
Barbara stooped down quickly.
"The troopers!" she whispered; "keep them here. I may escape from him,
but from the troopers never."
The woman patted her hand tenderly.
"Trust me, my dearie," she answered softly. "An wine can make them
drunk they shan't move till morning. God keep thee safe, my dearie."
"And bring your son to you again."
"I ride to Wells," said Captain Protheroe as he mounted. "If my men
arrive send them after me. Tell Captain Jonas I hope to meet him there
anon. Good-even."
They clattered off into the darkness.
"Was that wise?" whispered Barbara when they had left the village behind
them. "Will they not seek us in Wells?"
The captain smiled sagely.
"Truth is often expedient, Mistress Barbara, because no one believes it.
Captain Jonas is one if those crafty fools who if they would ride
secretly to Wells say loudly: 'I ride to Taunton,' and follow the road a
mile or so before they double back, chuckling at their wisdom. I trust
him to judge me by himself."
"Is not horse-stealing a capital offence?" queried Ralph cheerfully.
Captain Protheroe laughed.
"I' faith, I have committed so many capital offences during the last
three days, that one more or less is of small moment. Prison-breaking,
petty larceny, assault and robbery, and horse-stealing; 'tis a lively
record."
"We are well out of the last danger," sighed Barbara.
"By Heavens! Yes. I thought not to get off so easily. My only plan
was to make the fellow drunk, or to lead Mistress Barbara to feign
illness when 'twas time to set out, and so we remain behind. But the
stars are on our side, we have not only routed the enemy, but got off
with their supplies and transport, into the bargain. We should be at
Wells by nine o'clock."
"And what then? How shall we enter? Will not the gates be shut?"
"I think not. An they be 'tis no great matter to have them opened.
They make small difficulty of letting any enter, 'tis in getting out the
trouble lies."
"Aye! 'tis ever easier to go into a trap than to get out again,"
muttered Ralph doubtfully.
"Oh, Ralph! what words of ill omen!" cried Barbara with a shudder.
"In truth, I see not why we should go to Wells at all. Why not ride
straight to the coast?" he queried, discontentedly.
"Simply because Mistress Barbara cannot lie out in any hole and corner,
until we have the luck to find a vessel bound for Holland. She is not
as we are," answered Captain Protheroe sharply. "In Wells she will be
at least comfortably housed."
"But indeed I am strong. I can endure hardship," cried Barbara eagerly.
"Think not of that. Let us to the coast an it be indeed the safer
plan."
"On my honour, Mistress Barbara, I believe the boldest plan is ever the
safest. I know that the coast is strictly guarded, escape in these
garments would be impossible; we have 'fugitive' writ large upon us.
But who would dream of seeking us in Wells? Where should we be safer
than under the protecting care of my Lord Jeffreys himself?"
So they acquiesced, and galloped on rapidly through the gathering
darkness. But half-a-mile from the town they halted, and dismounting,
drove their horses into the fields, deeming it wiser to enter the town
on foot. Half-an-hour later they were safely sheltered in an old
rambling house, situated in the lower part of the towns where Mistress
Fytch dwelt.
*CHAPTER XX*
Mistress Fitch was a quiet old dame who, unlike the majority of her
kind, concerned herself but little with her neighbours. Her connection
with the Protheroe family had imbued her with a certain show of pride,
and the gossips in their turn--finding that she displayed a disposition
to resent their advances, and finding, moreover, that the old lady's
uneventful existence furnished no scope for their curiosity--had ceased
to interest themselves in her and her affairs.
She lived in a house larger, indeed, than her needs, where one room was
ever kept prepared for the occupation of her beloved Master Miles,
should he chance to be in the neighbourhood. The main feature of her
life indeed was a devotion to her foster-son; nothing he could do ever
came amiss to her, and she had the most absolute confidence in his
judgments.
Accordingly, when he and his companions arrived late one night, and
abruptly informed the old lady that they must take up their abode with
her for a while, it required only a word or two of explanation of the
circumstances of their position to satisfy the old lady, and to cause
her to set about her preparations for their accommodation.
They found but little difficulty in concealing their presence in the
house. Lest an arrival had been noted, Mistress Fytch was instructed,
if questioned, to speak of a visit from her nephew and niece from
Taunton; but their entry into the house had been at a late hour, when
the neighbours had already retired to rest, and as a matter of fact none
had marked them.
They dared not venture forth save after nightfall and then with extreme
caution, but, although at times the hours hung somewhat heavily on their
hands, the rest and the peaceful atmosphere of the house were very
welcome after the turmoil of the past week.