Did those words ring in his mind and comfort him even in the prospect of his own end? Then my thoughts, which were swift and yet beyond my control, left him and considered the case of Barnaby. He had been a Captain in the Green Regiment; he would be hanged, for certain, if he were caught. My sweetheart, my Robin, had also been a Captain in the Duke's army. All the Duke's officers would be hanged if they were caught. But perhaps Robin was already dead--dead on the battlefield--his face white, his hands stiff, blood upon him somewhere, and a cruel wound upon his dear body! Oh, Robin! Yet I shed no tears. Humphrey, who had been one of the Duke's chyrurgeons, he would also be surely hanged if he were caught. Why--since all would be hanged--why not hang mother and me as well, and so an end! About noon Barnaby began to stir; then he grunted and went to sleep again: presently he moved once more, then he rolled over on his broad back and went to sleep again. It was not until the sun was quite low that he awoke, sitting up suddenly, and looking about him with quick suspicion, as one who hath been sleeping in the country of an enemy, or where wild beasts are found. Then he sprang to his feet and shook himself like a dog. 'Sister,' he said, 'thou shouldst have awakened me earlier. I have slept all the day. Well, we are safe, so far.' Here he looked cautiously out of the linney towards the wood and the road. 'So far, I say, we are safe. I take it we had best not wait until to-morrow, but budge to-night. For not only will the troopers scour the country, but they will offer rewards; and the gipsies--ay, and even the country-folk--will hasten to give information out of their greedy hearts. We must budge this very night.' 'Whither shall we go, Barnaby?' He went on as if he had not heard my question. 'We shall certainly be safe here for to-night; but for to-morrow I doubt. Best not run the chance. For to-day their hands are full: they will be hanging the prisoners. Some they will hang first and try afterwards, some they will try first and hang afterwards. What odds if they are to be hanged in the end? The cider orchards never had such fruit as they will show this autumn, if the King prove revengeful--as, to judge by his sour face, he will be.' Here he cursed the King, his sour face, his works and ways, his past, his present, and his future, in round language, which I hope his wounded father did not hear. 'We must lie snug for a month or two somewhere, until the unlucky Monmouth men will be suffered to return home in peace. Ay! 'twill be a month and more, I take it, before the country will be left quiet. A month and more--and Dad not able to crawl!' 'Where shall we lie snug, Barnaby?'