‘Then I must judge by what I know——’ ‘By what you guess,’ he said, correcting her. ‘As you will.’ Her eyes were on the ground. A white spar was there. She turned it over with her foot, and turned it again. She hesitated what to say. ‘Should you favour me so far as to visit my father,’ said Jasper, ‘I beg of you one thing most earnestly. Do not mention the name of my companion—Martin.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘He may suspect him of having robbed me. My father is an energetic, resolute man. He might pursue him, and I alone am to blame. I lost the money.’ ‘Who was that Martin?’ ‘He told you—that I was nothing to him.’ ‘Then why do you seek to screen him?’ ‘Can I say that he took the money? If my father gets him arrested—I shall be found.’ Barbara laughed bitterly. ‘Of course, the innocent must not be brought into suspicion because he has ridden an hour alongside of the guilty. No! I will say nothing of Martin.’ She was still turning over the piece of spar with her foot. It sparkled in the sun. ‘How are you going to Ashburton, Miss Jordan?’ ‘I ride, and little John Ostler rides with me, conveying my portmanteau.’ Then she trifled with the spar again. There was some peacock copper on it that glistened with all the colours of the rainbow. Abruptly, at length, she turned away and went indoors. Next morning early she came in her habit to the gate where the boy who was to accompany her held the horses. She had not seen Jasper that morning, but she knew where he was. He had gone along the lane toward the common to set the men to repair fences and hedges, as the cattle that strayed on the waste-land had broken into the wheat field. She rode along the lane in meditative mood. She saw Jasper awaiting her on the down, near an old quarry, the rubble heap from which was now blazing with gorse in full bloom. She drew rein, and said, ‘I am going to Ashburton. I will take your message, not because you asked me, but because I doubt the truth of your story.’ ‘Very well, Miss Jordan,’ he said respectfully; ‘I thank you, whatever your motive may be.’ ‘I expect and desire no thanks,’ she answered, and whipped her horse, that started forward. ‘I wish you a favourable journey,’ he said. ‘Good-bye.’ She did not turn her head or respond. She was very angry with him. She stooped over her pommel and buckled the strap of the little pocket in the leather for her kerchief. But, before she had ridden far, an intervening gorse bush forced her to bend her horse aside, and then she looked back, without appearing to look, looked back out of her eye-corners. Jasper stood where she had left him, with his hat in his hand. CHAPTER XIII. MR. BABB AT HOME.