"And for heaven's sake give me a horse with four sound legs and with wind enough in its bellows to stand a gallop." Fairley was soon in the saddle again, and this time with a better horse under him. His spirits rose as the miles were left rapidly behind, and as he turned each bend in the road he looked eagerly for a dust cloud before him proclaiming that his pursuit was nearly at an end. Barbara sat silently in the corner of the carriage, Harriet Payne sat upright, looking from the window. It was Harriet who first noticed that the post-boy was suddenly startled, and that, in looking back, he had almost allowed the horses to swerve from the roadway. "What is it?" she called from the window, as she looked back along the road they had come. The post-boy pointed with his whip. Barbara looked hastily from the other window. There was much dust from their own wheels, but, beyond, there was another cloud surrounding and half concealing a horseman who was fast overtaking them. "Looks like a highwayman," said the post-boy. "Better a highwayman than some others who might have followed us," said Barbara, leaning back in her corner again. "Tell the boy to go on quietly, Harriet. This may be a very worthy gentleman who has need of haste." A few minutes later the horseman galloped up to the window. "Martin! You!" Barbara exclaimed. "Had I not been delayed upon the journey I should have caught you before this. I wish I had." "Why, Martin? Do you suppose I am to be turned from my purpose?" Fairley rode beside the open window, and Barbara leaned forward to talk with him. "I do not know your purpose," he said, "but I fear a trap has been set for you." "A trap!" Harriet exclaimed. "Why do you think so, Martin?" Barbara asked. Fairley told her how he had followed Sir John to the hostelry in the Haymarket. "You see, mistress, he knew where you would hire. He went direct to this place and made his inquiries as though he knew beforehand what answers he would receive. His smile was so self-satisfied that I scented danger." "And you see we are safe, nothing has happened." "Not yet," was the answer. "There is presently a by-road I know of, and by your leave we will take it." Barbara felt a little quick tug at her sleeve, and turned to Harriet. "Do not give him leave. I do not trust him," whispered the girl. "Why not?" "Some who seem to be your friends are no friends to Mr. Crosby." "This is no friend to be afraid of," laughed Barbara. "Were you not told to seek a fiddler at Aylingford if you failed to find me? This is he!" "A fiddler!" Harriet exclaimed. She had evidently not expected the fiddler to be a man of this sort, and was not satisfied. Barbara turned to the window again. "Tell me what you fear, Martin. I must not be hindered in reaching Dorchester, but take this by-road you talk of if you think it safer." "It will be a wise precaution, and will not delay us long upon the journey." He rode forward a little, and spoke to the post-boy.