"This is Sir Ralph Trevellyan; an old, a very dear friend of Rupert’s—and of mine. He was wounded at Sedgemoor, and is now a fugitive as we are. He hath agreed to join our company, and we will all three travel together." Captain Protheroe bowed stiffly, and glanced jealously at the newcomer. "I am sorry, madame," he muttered sulkily. "You do not consider my protection sufficient." "Hoots!" exclaimed Barbara crossly. "Two are ever better than one." "Possibly. I doubt not this gentleman is also of that opinion," he answered with a slight sneer. But here Ralph broke in hotly. "If this gentleman like not my company, Barbara, I will right willingly rid myself of his." "Certainly not!" cried Barbara, thoroughly exasperated, fearful also lest, removed from her influence, Ralph might again attempt his life. "If Captain Protheroe like not my friends, he may e’en journey alone." Captain Protheroe looked up in astonishment. "Do you desire me to leave you, madame?" he demanded coldly. "As you please. An you care to do so, of a certainty I would not prevent you," she answered angrily, but her voice faltered. Here was the opportunity she had told herself she desired, the opportunity to free him from her dependence. But now her pride wavered, and despite her angry words, she prayed he might not go. But he also had pride, pride now stung by jealousy. Without a word he turned on his heel, and strode from the glade. Barbara stared after his retreating figure in dismay, but she could not call him back. She turned fiercely upon Sir Ralph. "And pray what right had you, Ralph, to quarrel with Captain Protheroe?" she cried in a fury. "Tut! Barbara," he answered coaxingly. "We shall do better without him. I doubt not the fellow is but a spy." "He is no spy," she answered, stamping her foot in her rage. "He is a most brave, a most chivalrous gentleman. And—and I would to Heaven he had not left me." She turned angrily away from her astonished companion—and found herself face to face with the captain himself. The gloom had vanished from his face, and he looked down at her with a smile in his eyes. "I pray you pardon me, Mistress Barbara," he began; "I did not willingly play the eavesdropper. I returned to fetch my cloak. But now——" he paused, and looked down at her whimsically. "Now, may I stay?" In vain Barbara endeavoured to preserve her anger, gazing back haughtily into his laughing eyes; she was too delighted to see him again, and presently her lips twitched, and the dimple appeared. "You—you are very troublesome," she answered, turning away. Being a wise man and well versed in the ways of women Captain Protheroe sought for no more definite expression of relenting, but seated himself cheerfully on a fallen tree, and awaited her pleasure. Presently Barbara continued, as though nothing had occurred. "Come, you two must be friends. Give Captain Protheroe your hand, Ralph, and crave pardon for your rough welcome."