There was a loud knock at the door. "Martin! Martin!" "Sir John!" he whispered, and held up his finger to command silence. "Martin! This riot is no concern of yours. Open! I have a message for you from Mistress Barbara." "Quickly! They do not know you are here," whispered Martin. Crosby went down into darkness, and held his hand to Barbara to steady her. Their heads had sunk below the floor level when the first blow was struck at the door. Martin had extinguished the candle and seized his fiddle. With his foot on the steps he drew the bow sharply across the strings--a little laugh. Then he went down, and at a touch the hearth-stone came slowly back into its ordinary position. After going down straight for a little way the stairs began to wind, and were so narrow that a man had only just room enough to pass. Crosby led the way carefully, leaning back a little lest Barbara should stumble in the darkness and fall. From behind, Martin whispered his instructions. They came presently to a landing which widened out, and here Martin took the lead. "Give me your hand, mistress. Carefully--there are six more steps," and Martin counted them as he went down. "So, we are now below the floor of the ruined hall. Mad Martin was not to be caught in a trap so easily." "And now which way do we go? We are still in the Abbey," said Barbara. "A man might stay here a long time undiscovered, but that is not my plan. Mr. Crosby shall be leaving the Abbey behind long before his enemies have given up hunting for him." "Martin, I must go too," said Barbara. "There are reasons--many reasons." "Many reasons why you must stay for the present," said Martin. "Trust me, mistress; it is more dangerous for you to leave the Abbey just now than to remain." "You do not understand, Martin. Lord Rosmore--" "Fairley is right," said Crosby. "We found that the Abbey was watched to-night. By one of the bridges on the other side of the stream we overheard two men talking. Cursing their vigil, they declared that Rosmore was bent on private revenge--that my arrest was of his own scheming. He has already had some of my servants sent to Dorchester, and I must ride there without delay to save them." "But you will be taken." "Would that be a reason for not going?" "No," she answered quickly. "No; you must go." "And you must do nothing to associate yourself with me in any way. It was a chance that Martin brought me here, more of my contriving than his --do you understand? All you know of Gilbert Crosby is that he once came to your assistance at Newgate." She did not answer immediately. In the darkness Crosby could hear a little quick intake of her breath and a slight rustle of her gown. "Does Martin go with you?" she asked after a pause. "A little way to put him on the road; then I shall return to Aylingford," Fairley said. "You must not. It will not be safe for you."