"Perhaps there is some little revenge in it," he answered. "There comes a time when a scorned lover may cease to care for the woman who flouts him, and will remember that the world holds fairer women. When he finds this fairer love he is happy, but a spirit of retaliation may remain. I think this is my case. To be the wife of a notorious highwayman would not appeal to many women; most women would prefer to be Lady Rosmore, whatever the drawbacks to such a position might be. Mistress Lanison will go her own way, and I should be more than human if I did not hope that she may live to regret it. There is no trickery, and no condition except that you leave Dorchester together. Once safely in his hands, I can trust Gilbert Crosby not to let you escape him." "I ought to thank you, Lord Rosmore, but--" "But you may live to curse me for my help. It is possible, probable even. You have three days to think it over. Escape will not be possible until then." "There is some scheme against me," said Barbara passionately. "You and my guardian have--" "I said I had more than words to prove my sincerity," said Rosmore, going to the door. He went out. "I will give you an hour," Barbara heard him say, and then another closely-cloaked figure entered and the door was shut and locked. "Gilbert!" she cried, and the next moment she was sobbing in his arms. CHAPTER XXIV LOVE AND FEAR Gilbert! It was the first time she had called him by his name, and surely on her lips there was unexpected music in it. She had come into his arms and, with a sob, had nestled there as if she had found safety and content. Her face was hidden against him, and he kissed her hair reverently, not daring to attempt to turn her face to him. His possession of her was so sudden that he was as a man who dreams a dream, half conscious that it is a dream, which he would not have broken. Until he was in the room Crosby could not believe that the promise which Rosmore had made would be fulfilled. He could not believe that Barbara was close to him, that he would see her. He had listened to Rosmore as he unfolded his scheme for their escape, trying to detect the direction of his villainy, never for an instant believing that he was sincere; and, after all, he had done as he had promised, he had brought him to Barbara Lanison. The woman he loved was in his arms. It was wonderful, wonderfully true! The rest would happen in its due time. Life with love in it was to be his. The man he hated had proved a friend. So he kissed the beautiful fair hair and waited for Barbara to look up, that he might read her heart through her eyes and kiss her lips.