"Madam, what could one arm, and without a sword, avail against a dozen men, fully armed? The captain had but time to say to me, ’Fly—to Prudence!’—your pardon, but those were his words—when they surrounded him and made him prisoner without a chance to defend himself." "Oh! dear God!" murmured Prue, covering her face with her trembling hands. "It is my fault; if I had left him with Barbara, he would now be safe. I brought him away to his death for a jealous whim! Where have they taken him?" she demanded, looking at Steve with widely distended eyes. "To Newgate? to the Tower? Tell me and I will go to him and share his prison." "I don’t know what they mean to do with him," said Steve, "but they were taking him to Lord Beachcombe’s house—" "Lord Beachcombe! Oh! I see it all! This is no arrest; it is a plot to rob and mayhap to murder him. Lord Beachcombe fancies that he has to deal with a defenseless outlaw and a weak woman. I will show him that there are stronger weapons than swords and bludgeons. I will go instantly to Rodney House." "Oh! Prue, wait until morning!" implored Peggie. "And give Lord Beachcombe time to spirit Robin away to some secret dungeon, where I may, perhaps, never find him alive? No! I will go to him at once, without a moment’s delay." "Then I will go with you," cried Peggie. "You can not go to Lord Beachcombe’s house alone." "Can not I? Besides, I shall not be alone; Steve Larkyn will escort me." She turned to Robin’s faithful henchman with a wan smile. "One woman is enough for you to take care of; and you, Peggie, dear, will watch for me, so that when I return, I can get in without rousing the house. Believe me, dear," she went on firmly, as Peggie was about to remonstrate, "what I have to do can be better done by myself alone; and I am not timid, as you know." "But, Prue—what on earth can you do for Robin, by going to Lord Beachcombe in the middle of the night?" Peggie urged, in desperation. "That remains to be seen," said Prue, with a smile of mystery. "I think I can make Lord Beachcombe set him free, and be grateful for the chance. Come, Steve," and wrapping her mantle closely round her, she drew the hood well over her face, and went out with a resolute step into the street, already growing gray in the early dawn of the May morning. The courtyard of Rodney House was all astir when Prudence, clinging to Steve Larkyn’s arm, stole through the great gateway, and under the deep shadow of the arcade that flanked the main entrance. That was closed, but from a low door a few feet away, a flood of light poured upon a traveling carriage with four horses and a group of mounted men. Without a moment’s hesitation, Prue darted past them, ran down a few stone steps and found herself in a large, bare basement hall, where Robin, his dress in some disorder and his hands tied behind him, stolidly confronted Lord Beachcombe in a white heat of fury.