“You must come with us, miss, if you please,” said the man who held me, civilly enough. “Where?” I made out to whisper. He pointed with a riding-whip. I followed the direction of his hand; and there, on the rim of the pit above, silhouetted against the sky, sat a single horseman. I had no reason to doubt who it was. Even at that distance, the lank red jaw of him was sign enough of the fox. I was trapped at last, and when I had thought myself securest. Now, I do not know what desperate resignation came to me all in a moment. As well this way out as another. “Very well,” I said quietly, “I will go with you.” They were surprised, I could see, by my submission, and all the more alert, on its unexpected account, to hover about my going. But their strong arms were not the less considerate, for that reason, to support me, overwrought as I was, in my passage to the open daylight above; and, almost before I realised it, I was standing before the Earl of Herring. He sat as stiff and relentless in his saddle as an Attila, his red eyes staring, a very wickedness of foretasted relish grinning in his hungry teeth. A fourth servant in livery stood a little apart, holding his own and the others’ horses. “So,” said the master, whispering as out of a dream, “you are caught at last, my lady.” I felt for the first time a little flush come to my cheeks, and answered his gaze resolutely. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘caught,’ my lord,” I said. “These are not the days of King John.” He rubbed his gloved hand across his chin. “No, by God!” he said, with a hoarse chuckle. “But they are the days of King Hardrough, by your leave.” “I have done no wrong.” “Tell that to my lady,” said he. “Jealousy has no ears.” He gave a hyæna laugh. “Misfortune has not chastened you, I see,” crowed he. “It has not tried to,” I said, “till this moment. Now you have seen me, will you let me go, and ride back to tell Mrs. de Crespigny that she has nothing more to fear from my rivalry?” He regarded me with a delighted humour. “When I go, you come with me.” “O no!” “O yes! straight back to Dr. Peel and his whippings.” “You will not--you will not!” I clasped my hands upon his knee in a frenzy of terror. I was quite broken in a moment. “Don’t send me back to that hell!” I implored. He lusted over my fear. He could not for long bring himself to ease it. “What have you got to offer me to stay my hand?” he said at last. I was silent. “Harkee!” he said. “I will help you out. Will you give me my bastard brother?” “He is my brother too; I swear it.” “Pish!” said he; “will you give up your paramour?” “Not if you call him by that name.” “Why, there, I knew,” said he, “you was in hiding together somewhere. Smoke the red earl, if you can. Call him by what name you will, and lead me to him.” I hung my head, and burst into tears. “He has deceived me.” “What did I say?”