Captain Protheroe pointed across the plain to one oil the villages just emerging from the mist. "Yonder is our destination, Mistress Barbara. ’Tis the village of Chedzey. In that village is an inn, an inn so atrocious that neither officer nor man of the royal troops would ever willingly put head inside the door. I lay there once, in ignorance, and had hoped never again to be so led astray. But times have changed, and it must be our refuge." "But how? Surely the folk will suspect. Our dress——" "I purpose to go there as an officer of the royal army, who hath made an important capture of two desperate rebels, yourself and Sir Ralph, to wit. The capture was made this morning before daybreak. I have sent my men on to Wells to fetch an escort; we remain all day at the inn, and at night, our escort not arriving, we set out to meet them on foot. What think you of the scheme?" "’Tis a mighty lame story," muttered Sir Ralph scornfully. "Zounds, man, then devise a better," was the angry retort. "What matter the story an we carry it off with a high hand? These rustics are simple enow, and they know better than to carp or question the words of an officer of the king. Besides, we cannot lie out here all day, and Mistress Barbara requires rest and food before she set off on another tramp." "As you will then," answered Ralph somewhat sulkily, "But the danger is great." "Of course the danger is great. What then? In a great game a man must play high if he stands in to win. What say you, madame?" "That I fear you are a gambler, sir," she answered quickly, eager to dispel the quarrel. "But since there seems no alternative, why talk further? Let us to Chedzey and trust to fortune." "We must needs wait a little space. ’Tis somewhat early hours for calling." So they sat to rest, and watched the golden light sweep up the sky and shade softly into the pale rose of the sunrise. Presently Barbara turned to Captain Protheroe. "Tell me a little how the battle was ordered," she commanded. "Faith, madame, that is no easy task," he laughed. "A man hath little time to note much of a fight save his own men and those immediately opposing him. And the greater part was fought in darkness, to boot. But—yonder at Chedzey lay our camp, the militia was at Middlezey and the cavalry with the general over there at Western Zeyland. ’Twas a night attack, you must know, and should have been a surprise, but the Duke’s army, being stopped by the Bussex Rhine—yonder it lies." "What! That little ditch to stop an army?"