Lord Rosmore had not attempted to justify himself as the coach started upon its journey; he had only told her that escape was impossible, that the post-boy was in his pay and had his instructions. Barbara had called him a villain through her closed teeth, and then had shrunk into her corner, drawing the hood of the cloak closely over her head. She realised that for the moment she was helpless, that her captor was on his guard, but an opportunity might come presently. The more she appeared to accept the situation, the less watch was he likely to keep on her. It was a natural argument, perhaps, but far removed from fact. Never for an instant did Lord Rosmore cease to watch her. This time he meant to bend her to his will, if not one way, then another; fair means had failed, therefore he would use foul. For a long while he was silent, and then he began to explain why he had acted as he had done. Again he showed her how impossible a lover was Gilbert Crosby, and he painted the many crimes of a highwayman in lurid colours. He knew she must have thought of these things, and he declared that the day would come when she would thank him for what he had done to-night. Barbara did not answer him, and there was a long silence as the coach rolled steadily on. Then Lord Rosmore ventured to excuse himself. He spoke passionately of his love for her. His way with women was notorious; seldom had he loved in vain, and women whose ears had refused to listen to all other lovers had fallen before his temptations; yet never had woman heard such burning words as he spoke in the darkness of the coach to Barbara Lanison. He was commanding and humble by turns, his voice was tremulous with passion, yet not a word did Barbara speak in answer. Rosmore lapsed into silence again, and he trembled a little with the passion that was in him. Love her he certainly did in his own way, and he bit his lip and clenched his hands, furious at his failure. It took him some time to control himself. "There are many reasons why you should marry me," he said presently. "Some of them I have given, but there are others why you must marry me." He gave her time to answer, but she neither spoke nor moved. Her indifference maddened him. "Your uncle is wholly in my power, you must have guessed that. A word from me, and this fellow Crosby hangs. Sir John is afraid, and you cannot suppose that I have left Crosby in Dorchester to go or come as he likes. He cannot move without my help. I wonder if you realise what your persistent refusal of me will mean. You may drive me to harsh measures, and make a devil of me. Thwart me, and I stand at nothing. I will bring your uncle to the hangman, and Crosby shall rot in chains at four cross-roads." Barbara moved slightly, but she tightly shut her lips that she might not be tempted to speak. He thought her movement was one of contempt, and turned upon her savagely.