Then both saw that the lame horse that had been deserted on the moor had followed, limping and slowly, as it was in pain, after the other horse. Barbara went at once to the poor beast, saying, ‘I will put you in a stall,’ but in another moment she returned with a bundle in her hand. ‘What have you there?’ asked Martin, who was mounting his horse, pointing with his whip to what she carried. ‘I found this strapped to the saddle.’ ‘Give it to me.’ ‘It does not belong to you. It belongs to the other—to Jasper.’ ‘Let me look through the bundle; perhaps by that means we may discover his name.’ ‘I will examine it when you are gone. I will not detain you; ride on for the doctor.’ ‘I insist on having that bundle,’ said Martin. ‘Give it me, or I will strike you.’ He raised his whip. ‘Only a coward would strike a woman. I will not give you the bundle. It is not yours. As you said, this man Jasper is naught to you, nor you to him.’ ‘I will have it,’ he said with a curse, and stooped from the saddle to wrench it from her hands. Barbara was too quick for him; she stepped back into the doorway and slammed the door upon him, and bolted it. He uttered an ugly oath, then turned and rode through the courtyard. ‘After all,’ he said, ‘what does it matter? We were fools not to be rid of it before.’ As he passed out of the gatehouse, he saw Eve in the moonlight, approaching timidly. ‘You must give me back my ring!’ she pleaded; ‘you have no right to keep it.’ ‘Must I, Beauty? Where is the compulsion?’ ‘Indeed, indeed you must.’ ‘Then I will—but not now; at some day in the future, when we meet again.’ ‘O give it me now! It belonged to my mother, and she is dead.’ ‘Come! What will you give me for it? Another kiss?’ Then from close by burst a peal of impish laughter, and the boy bounded out of the shadow of a yew tree into the moonlight. ‘Halloo, Martin! always hanging over a pretty face, detained by it when you should be galloping. I’ve upset the gig and broken it; give me my place again on the crupper.’ He ran, leaped, and in an instant was behind Martin. The horse bounded away, and Eve heard the clatter of the hoofs as it galloped up the lane to the moor. CHAPTER VI. A BUNDLE OF CLOTHES. BARBARA JORDAN sat by the sick man with her knitting on her lap, and her eyes fixed on his face. He was asleep, and the sun would have shone full on him had she not drawn a red curtain across the window, which subdued the light, and diffused a warm glow over the bed. He was breathing calmly; danger was over.