"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.