Barbara gave a slight scream and ran across the hall, but Captain Protheroe was at the door before her. "Pardon me, madame, I must see to this," he said sternly. He flung the door wide, standing himself in its shadow, and Peter Drew, the smith, rushed quickly into the hall. "Ah, Mistress Barbara," he exclaimed breathlessly, not noticing her sign to him to be cautious, "the villain hath escaäped me, and I can’t faind no traäce of un anywhere." "Very much my case, my friend," interrupted the captain, shutting the door quickly, and confronting the astonished smith with a quiet smile. "But what may be the name of this same escaped villain?" Peter gasped at him stupidly. "Come, fellow, out with it," cried the captain sharply. The smith glanced at Barbara and shook his head. "I don’t know," he muttered sulkily. Captain Protheroe turned to Barbara. "May I—er—advise you, madame, to order this reluctant henchman of yours to be more speedy in his replies." "You may tell the captain all you know, Peter," she said after a moment’s hesitation. "Methinks ’twill not greatly enlighten him." "’Tweren’t nobbut a certain hawker, your honour. Her ladyship bid me keep un zaäfe till marnin’ zo I fastened un oop zafe i’ my farge. But when I were awai—er—awai on my biznez thicey marnin’ my waife, plague on a meddlezome fingers, zay I, muzt needs oppen door, to zee, forzooth, whai it were zhut, and zo the fellow hath vled." "Good! Why was this hawker to be thus secured?" "He had angered me, sir," interrupted Barbara haughtily. "Ah! summary justice, madame," answered the captain, laughing. "But hardly, methinks, within the measure of the law." "I care nought for the law." "So I can well believe. But come, I must know a little more concerning this hawker." "That you cannot, sir," answered Barbara calmly. "For the simple reason that Peter knows no more, and I, who do know, do not purpose to tell you." Captain Protheroe hesitated a moment. Then he continued lightly, but eyeing Barbara steadily the while: "Ah, well! ’Tis of small import. Doubtless it will not be difficult to find the fellow himself and learn all I wish from his own lips." Barbara’s face grew suddenly white. "Yet another man to search for," she exclaimed lightly, but with a strange hoarseness in her voice. "I’ faith, captain, yours is no easy post. It must indeed be a wearisome life to seek and seek for that which like the philosopher’s stone, is never to be found." They were startled by a sudden clamour which arose in a distant part of the building, the clatter of pans and dishes, the angry shouts of the men, and above all the shrill voice of a woman pouring forth a torrent of furious abuse. "What in the devil’s name——" began the captain, striding across the room. "Oh! ’tis nothing," interrupted Barbara coolly. "Your men have doubtless encountered my waiting-woman, Phoebe. She is somewhat hot and hasty in her humour and—I am sorry for them."