Ralph submitted reluctantly. ’Twas natural that to him, whose own friends and followers had suffered so horribly at the hands of the lord chief justice, revenge should appear more sweet than life itself, but he recognised the truth of his companion’s words, and for Barbara’s sake, if for no other, consented to leave the matter in Captain Protheroe’s hands. The sun was now risen, and the clear light revealed the pallor of Barbara’s face, the dark rings of weariness round her eyes. Reproaching himself for having so long forgotten her, Captain Protheroe proposed they should at once repair to the village. Their preparations were soon completed. The captain buckled on Ralph’s sword, tied the latter’s hands behind him, and drawing Barbara’s arm through his they marched forward. *CHAPTER XIX* The village of Chedzey was little more than a collection of mean cottages, the largest of which was the inn. The inhabitants were already stirring, and the wife of the innkeeper was standing at her door when the party approached. She stared in amazement and pity at Barbara’s tattered garments and weary face, and cast a scowl in the direction of the officer whom she recognized as one of the hated Tangiers regiment, lately the scourge of the countryside. To his demand for beds and breakfast she answered sulkily that he must seek further, the house could provide him nothing, and even when he sharply urged his commands, she advanced grumbling objections and refused to move from the doorway. But upon this her husband appeared, in fear at sight of the officer, and sharply bade her hold her peace, and let the strangers enter. "Art mad, wife?" he whispered. "Wouldest have the house burned about our ears, that thou darest to thwart one o’ Kirke’s officers? Stand by, and let him have his way." "Thou wast ever a chicken-hearted fool, John," retorted the woman scornfully. "This is an honest house, and not for such wastrels as they o’ the royal army. But have your way and don’t blame me an you like not your customers." "Pardon, your honour," cried the man, bowing low before the captain. "The woman’s tongue runs out of all holding. Peace, jade, and get you in, or ’twill be the worse for you." With an angry glance at her husband the woman withdrew, and the host led the way upstairs into a poorly-furnished parlour, where after some little delay breakfast was served, no very tempting meal, but welcome indeed to the famished travellers. Judging that where most is told, least is surmised, Captain Protheroe gave mine host a detailed account of the capture of his prisoners, adding such realistic details as most appealed to his sense of fitness. His horse, he said had been shot by the rebel, hence his journeying to the village on foot, his only trooper having been despatched to Wells for fresh horses and escort.