Adventure stories; Fiction; Great Britain -- History -- James II, 1685-1688 -- Fiction
So Barbara Lanison heard nothing of the mourning that was in the town,
and had naught to do during the long waiting hours but think of the
future and all that it meant to her. She was going with Gilbert Crosby,
but he had promised that, once they were in safety, she should choose
her own way. Would she take his road? She loved him. The fact was so
absorbing that nothing else seemed to matter; yet she had many lonely
hours for thought, and it would have been strange indeed if none of the
circumstances of her life, of her position, had demanded her
consideration. To trust this lover with her future meant the snapping of
every tie which bound her to the past; it must mean, in the world's
eyes, bringing contempt upon her name. She faced the truth bravely. It
seemed an impossible thing that Barbara Lanison of Aylingford should
marry Galloping Hermit the highwayman. Such a thing might appeal as a
romantic tale, but in the real world it meant disgrace. In another land
love might be hers, such love, perchance, as few women have ever had,
but could it obliterate the past? Would she ever be able to forget that
the man beside her, his face hidden behind the brown mask, had waited,
pistol in hand, upon the high road, to rob passing travellers? All men
were not cowards, nor did they travel unprepared for danger; there must
have been times when the pistols had spoken in the silence of the night,
when some hapless traveller had died upon the roadside. Surely there was
blood upon the hands of the man she loved! The thought bowed her head,
and her hands clasped as if a spasm of sudden pain had seized her. No
repentance in the long years to come, not all the good that might be
done in them, could wipe out the past. And then she tried to find
excuses for that past, some reason that could justify the life he had
chosen. Some very definite reason there must have been. The artificial
glamour of the life would not attract such a man as Gilbert Crosby. He
must have imagined that justice was on his side, that there was some
wrong to right, to make him defy all the laws of life and property and
become a menace and a terror to his fellows.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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