"Leave me to deal with her, sirrah. I will follow you anon. And harkee. There is a certain hawker wandering in or near the village. Yon fellow can describe him. If we can lay hands on him, I doubt not he can tell us what may prove useful." Corporal Crutch started guiltily. "A hawker, captain? Why, I know the fellow. I have him safe under—that is—er—I doubt not I can speedily lay hands on him." "Do so. See to it to-night, and we may yet catch our hare. Now begone." The corporal saluted and went out. Captain Protheroe glanced at Barbara, and he saw that no trace of her triumphant merriment remained. He turned and walked to the window and stood for some time in silence gazing out into the darkness while the last echoes of the retreating footsteps died away. Then all was still. *CHAPTER VII* Captain Protheroe stood gazing out into the dark night, asking himself savagely why he still waited there, why he did not leave the girl at once and return with his men to the village, preparatory to setting out in pursuit of this man who still escaped them. It was clearly his duty to go—and yet—— There was still time, nothing could be done until the hawker was discovered, and his secret, whatever it might be, was learned. And in the meantime he could not resist the temptation to remain a little longer, to learn more of this girl who, while she mocked and flouted, yet fascinated him in spite of his anger against her. To punish her a little for the way she had outwitted him, aye, and to watch how she bore the punishment. So while he cursed himself for a fool in so doing, yet he remained. Barbara sat bolt upright, watching him furtively with eager eyes. Her hands were tightly clenched, and her lips pressed together in anxious thought. "Oh! what shall I do now?" she murmured again and again desperately. "What shall I do? The pedlar hath escaped. I have tried tears, they are useless. Oh, God! help me to play out the game." At last he turned, and crossing the room seated himself beside her. Leaning forward, his hands clasped between his knees, he eyed her steadily and spoke in a low even voice. "Mistress Barbara, have you ever heard tell of a certain Mistress Alice Lisle?" Barbara shuddered quickly, and her face grew very pale, but she answered him bravely: "Aye, sir, she who was beheaded last week at Winchester for harbouring rebels." "Good. And hast also heard of Mistress Judith Barge, condemned to be flogged for a like act of treason?" "Indeed, sir, her story likewise is well known to me." "Ah! so you were forewarned. You did not act in ignorance of the fate awaiting you?" His face and voice were hard and her heart beat wildly, but she fought the rising fear and answered proudly: "Captain Protheroe, none but a fool goeth to war without counting the cost. I am no fool, sir." Suddenly his whole bearing changed, his face softened, and, raising her hand to his lips he said gently: