Barbara stumbled as she ran, and her breath came in sobs. Captain Protheroe’s grip upon her wrist was like a vice. Again they turned a corner, and for an instant they stopped dead; for halfway down the street, full in their path, the bright light from an open doorway flared across the road, and in the light stood a group of soldiers eager and alert. They had run into a trap. Their pursuers behind shouted a warning, the troopers in front wheeled round quickly to face them. To go back was impossible, to stand still, madness, to run forward into the arms of these expectant troopers, a desperate chance. This time no ruse could avail them. And then, a few yards on the near side of the lighted doorway, Captain Protheroe espied a dark opening in the line of buildings. He darted towards it and slipped between the black shadows of the houses. Barbara was spent, but even as they ran into the narrow alley, and as he felt further effort was hopeless, Captain Protheroe noted an open doorway, dimly lighted. It was a desperate chance, his only one. With an effort he dragged Barbara into the house, and shut the door behind him, listening intently, while the girl sank exhausted at his feet. He heard their pursuers turn the corner, pass the door unheeded, and running eagerly on, turn again into the street beyond. Their shouts and footsteps died away in the distance, and all was still. Captain Protheroe turned and surveyed his surroundings. They were in a narrow, dimly-lighted passage, flanked by a doorway on either side, and leading to a third door at the end. The door on the left was open, and the room to which it gave access, a small parlour, was deserted. He glanced at Barbara. She raised her head and smiled at him bravely, though her breath still came in shuddering gasps, and her face was white and drawn. He stooped down, and helped her to her feet, then leading her into the little parlour, laid her, unresisting, on the settle, and closed the door. "Where are we?" she whispered, looking wonderingly around her. He shook his head. Just then a door was heard to open in some distant part of the house. There was a babble of sounds, a shrill voice singing through the verse of a song, followed by a loud burst of boisterous laughter. Captain Protheroe, with a quick exclamation, crossed to the window of the room, drew aside the heavy curtain, and peered out. Then he turned with a strange expression in his eyes. "We have walked into the lion’s den, Mistress Barbara," he said. "This is the White Hart Inn." Barbara started to her feet. "Oh! let us go, let us go instantly," she cried. Captain Protheroe stood irresolute. "I don’t know," he said slowly; "it may be we are in the safest place. At least ’tis the last place where they would dream of searching for us." As he spoke, the door at the end of the passage opened, and they heard a dragging footstep slowly approaching. Barbara clasped her hands in desperation.