"You dogs, how dare you?" roared Gil, while, with a sense of indescribable joy, Mistress Anne held her head against his broad breast, heard the resonant utterances which seemed to echo in his chest, and listened to the firm, strong beating of his heart. She never for a moment thought of tearing away the bandage; but, when she did raise her fingers, Gil's stout hand prisoned both of hers and held them tightly, where they stayed without resistance, nothing loth. "We couldn't help it, captain," said a voice. "I be coming along here, and I see my young mistress there seated on yon stone, with her head bent down, asleep." "Mother Goodhugh has spoken truth, then," whispered Anne to herself; "I have not seen, but I have felt, and feel the touch of my future lord." "Is this truth?" cried Gil, gazing round at his men, who one and all shrank from his angry eye. "True, captain? It be true enough," was chorused. "Jack Bray then went softly behind her and clapped a kerchief over her eyes and mouth, and we were taking her yonder when you come." "But how came she here?" exclaimed Gil, looking round at his men, who stared at one another, but made no reply till their leader angrily repeated his question. "Don't know, captain," said the man Anne had first heard speak; "she was sitting on yonder stone." "Was no one near? But that will do. Tell me one thing," he said aside to one of his men, "where were you coming from?" "We'd been down to the river, captain, and were on the look-out for Mas' Wat, when--" "That will do," said Gil sternly. "Now stand aside." As he spoke he placed his left arm round Anne, and took her hand with his right. "Let me lead you back to the path from which you have strayed, Mistress Beckley," he said. "You are quite safe now. Nay--nay, let that bandage rest for awhile. The sight of these rough seamen here might startle you afresh," he added, as the late prisoner raised her hand that was at liberty to her face. She lowered it directly with a satisfied sigh, and, leaning heavily upon her protector's arm, she suffered him to lead her down what seemed to be a rugged slope, and then amidst trees and bushes, and up one ascent, down another, and all the while with the bandage upon her eyes, while Gil looked down at her, half-puzzled, half-amused, and at times annoyed at the timid, trusting way in which she seemed to have thrown herself upon him. He was debating within himself as to whether he should ask her how she came to be where she was found, little thinking that she had been taken there almost as thoroughly blindfolded as she had been when brought away. But Gilbert Carr's heart told him plainly enough without vanity that he had been the attraction that had drawn her thither, and he bit his lip with vexation as he heard his companion sigh, and felt her hang more heavily upon his arm.