"Lord Rosmore has done us the honour to ask your hand in marriage. My own satisfaction may have made me a little too hasty in telling you. You were naturally unprepared, and, womanlike, were inclined to resent any idea of being forced into a marriage. Since then, however, you have had time to consider the matter. You may guess my own feelings concerning such an alliance. From the moment Lord Rosmore spoke to me I have seen nothing but advantage in it. Now, there is an additional reason why your answer should not be delayed. Affianced to Lord Rosmore, whose whole interests lie with the King, no one would dare suggest that you had had the slightest sympathy for a rebel, or that Aylingford had ever willingly opened its gates to a fugitive from Monmouth's rabble army. Martin's indiscretion puts you in danger. If by some careless word you are responsible for that indiscretion, which may very likely be the case, you are in grave danger. Rosmore is not here alone, and though he may be silent, other tongues will wag. Is it not so, my lord?" "I do not wish to bias your niece," Rosmore answered, without turning from the fireplace. Barbara was in a hard case. The man in the tower was trapped; Martin, too, would be arrested. By a word she could save Martin; possibly Lord Rosmore might be induced to let Crosby also slip through his fingers. If she consented to marry him she felt that she might persuade him to anything. The thought brought a quick reaction. If she could persuade him to anything, he was not a man to trust. Duty should come first, no matter how insidiously a woman might tempt. She did not trust Rosmore. She remembered the evil in his face that night in the hall when she had stood between him and Sydney Fellowes. She remembered Gilbert Crosby; his grey eyes seemed to look into hers at this moment. He must be saved--but how? "I think you exaggerate the danger, uncle," she said quietly. "Surely a madman's folly is not sufficient to condemn us?" "I have told you the truth. Ask Lord Rosmore." "Will you tell me, please?" "Sir John forces my hand," said Rosmore, turning quickly towards her. For an instant he seemed angry, but his face softened as he looked at her. "I am torn between love and duty. Sir John speaks truly. Another in my place to-night, one who had only his duty to consider, would probably arrest both you and your uncle on suspicion, and you would have to prove your innocence as best you might. King James is determined to trample out this rebellion, and even some innocent persons may suffer." Barbara did not speak when he paused. She had glanced at her uncle and wondered whether this might be some plot between these two to force her to this marriage. She distrusted her uncle as much as, if not more than, she did Lord Rosmore. "If I consent?" she said. Rosmore made a step towards her, and Sir John looked up quickly. They were suddenly as men who had played a desperate game and won.