"Can you suggest anyone to whom I can apply?" Watson had no suggestion to make, but he promised that any message she might send should be delivered. "I thank you for the advice and for the promise," said Barbara. "I can think of no friend in Dorchester, and I am not sure that being a rebel is not the more honourable position to-day." "It means death." "Well? Are there not worse things than death?" "Truly, I think not. From all other ills a man may perchance recover, but from death--never." Barbara smiled. It was not likely that this man would understand. "Think over my advice to-night," said Watson. "There are many in Dorchester who might help you. Think to-night, and give me the names of some friends to-morrow. I shall know whether they are in the town, and would help you. To-morrow also I will seek for a new maid to serve you." "Spare yourself that trouble," Barbara said as he went to the door. "So short a service as I shall require is not worth anyone's taking." Watson was a soldier, and in his way a good soldier. He would have faced death at a moment's notice so long as he was well paid for doing so, and would be loyal to those he served, unless perchance a very heavy bribe were offered him and there was a reasonable probability of safety in accepting it. He had risen to some authority amongst his fellows, and did not think meanly of himself. He was convinced that his treatment of Barbara Lanison had been diplomatic, whereas his whole manner and conversation had put her upon her guard. He had succeeded in convincing her that he was laying a trap for her indiscretion, and that to trust him would be only playing into the hands of her enemies. In the morning she had thought of no friend to mention to him, and had decided not to trust him even with a message to Judge Marriott. Such a message was more likely to be used against her than on her behalf. Shrugging his shoulders, Watson departed, and did not disturb her again until the evening. Then he entered the room quietly, and dropped his voice to a whisper. "I have found you a friend," he said, "a powerful friend who runs some risk to serve you. Take my advice, and treat him courteously." "Who is he?" Watson did not answer, but went to the door. A closely-cloaked figure entered, and Watson went out, closing the door. Then the cloak was thrown back. "Lord Rosmore!" Barbara exclaimed. "At your service, but speak low. I come secretly. This trooper found me out, but I had already been scheming on your behalf. He was able to help me in my one remaining difficulty." She drew back from him. "I have not asked for your help," she said. "I know. You have misunderstood me, Mistress Lanison, and I grant you have had some reason. I would have won you if I could, and, as many another lover has done, I have thought all ways honest. I was wrong. I ask your pardon."