"He will delay us, I know he will," said Harriet. "I have no faith in him, and it may just make the difference in saving my master." "Don't be foolish, girl. Your master has no better friend in the world." "I cannot help it, but I do not believe it," sobbed the girl. "You have told me the assizes have not begun in Dorchester. We shall not be too late." "But they have hanged and shot men without waiting for a trial. I know; I have seen them. They hate my master, and were they to learn you were hurrying to his rescue, they would kill him before you came." "I am doing my best," said Barbara. "Keep to the high road, mistress," urged the girl. Barbara turned from her impatiently, and Martin came back to the window. "What is your purpose when you arrive in Dorchester?" he asked. "I cannot tell you." Martin made a little gesture to indicate Harriet Payne. "I have told no one, and shall not do so until my purpose is accomplished," said Barbara. "Mistress, I have some knowledge of things in the West. My fiddle and I hear many things, and I might give you useful news." "You cannot help me in this, Martin." "I am under no oath not to thwart you should the price you are prepared to pay be too large." "That is why I do not tell you, Martin." Fairley asked no further question, but rode on by the carriage in silence. He believed that she was going to bargain with Lord Rosmore, and his brain was full of schemes to frustrate her, or at least to prevent her fulfilling the bargain, even if it were made. It was not necessary to be honest in dealing with such a scoundrel, he argued, and even if it were wise to let the bargain be struck, he would see to it that Lord Rosmore should not profit by it. "This is the road," he said to the post-boy, and the carriage swung round into what was little more than a lane. Harriet Payne gave a little cry, and looked from the window. "I thought we were over, but we are off the road. Forbid this way, mistress; I pray you forbid it." For an instant Barbara wondered whether this was a scheme of Martin's to keep her from her purpose but the idea was absurd. He was as anxious that Gilbert Crosby should be rescued as she was. She commanded Harriet to keep quiet. Progress was slower now, for this side road was heavy, and the coach came near to being overturned more than once. "It will be better presently," said Martin, but it was a long time before his prophecy came true, and when it did, the improvement was not very great. "I wouldn't have come if I had known," growled the post-boy. "You'll go where you're told," said Martin, "and the more words about it, the less pay." They had travelled slowly for an hour or more, along a winding road between thick copses and high-hedged fields, when Martin suddenly brought his horse to a standstill and listened. "Stop!" he said to the post-boy, and immediately the grinding wheels were still.