"You are sure there is no one spying about?" the duke inquired nervously. "How if they are merely hiding? Stay you here, Captain—I will examine the inn for myself—it will not do for you to fall into an ambush. And it would be well for Steve to stand sentinel at the bend of the road; he can warn us in time of any approaching wayfarer, for if I mistake not, the road over the waste lands can be plainly seen for several miles." Left alone, Robin dropped the mask of careless gaiety under which he had hidden his dejection from his companions. About to leave the land that contained Prue, on a mission whose risks he had often braved without a thought except of audacious delight in danger and reckless defiance of the law from which he was an outcast, he was now beset by a thousand apprehensions for which he could have given no reason, but which chilled his loyal ardor and hung like an incubus upon his soul. How could he wish for his once-beloved Paris while Prue was in England? What cared he for the safe asylum of the French court while Prue in the English court was wooed by a score of suitors and pressed by dangers and temptations from which he was powerless to protect her? The setting sun seemed like an emblem of his own fate—except that it would surely rise again on the morrow, while he might sink for ever into forgetfulness. "Oh! my heart’s joy, my only love, shall we never meet again?" he murmured. "Oh! for one more look into those sweet eyes; one last kiss from those beloved lips! Must I go without a farewell word; without sure hope that she will ever bestow another thought on me? Before God she is my wife—yet the outlaw has no God—no country—no wife—and how dare I hope that she who took me for an hour’s frolic, would not some day gladly be rid of me for ever?" Robin’s reflections, painful and absorbing as they were, did not prevent his keeping a close watch on Steve, who now turned, and, with many signs of caution, retraced his steps. At the same time the distant sound of wheels became audible. "Conceal yourself, Captain, there are travelers coming this way; we must withdraw until they have passed," said Steve, pushing his way through the bushes and preparing to lead his horse farther into the wood. "We are four," said Robin. "It would ill become us to turn tail without knowing what we fly from." "Four! Would you attempt to draw his grace into a broil?" "A broil! Pshaw!" cried Robin impatiently. "Some pursy citizen in a post-chaise, belike, or passengers for the ferry." "There’s another carriage following the one you hear," said Steve. "Shall I warn the duke and Mr. Percival?" "No, no! let us play highwaymen once more and frighten them away," laughed Robin, quickly adjusting a black mask and handing one to Steve. As he did so a hand was laid somewhat roughly on his arm and the duke, in low but emphatic tones, interrupted him: "A truce to this headstrong folly; your rashness will ruin everything."