Baron answered--"The nation and the King must both forgive, or war must be eternal. You have seen its aspect; what think you? Is this great quarrel like the mere abstract question which is cooly discussed in the cabinet of Princes, when they talk of risking ten thousand lives for a victory, and laying waste a province to cut off the resources of the enemy? Let us not balance misery against forgiveness. It is childish reasoning to keep ourselves in torment, because we will not forget the injuries we have suffered. Peace only can heal our putrifying wounds, and peace can never be bought too dear, unless the price is conscience or safety." They now separated for the evening; anxious thoughts kept the captives awake. But after all was silent in the inn, Isabel heard a gentle tap at the chamber-door. In a state of agitation, every sound is alarming. She listened, and heard Barton whisper, "Arise." Before she could open the door, the watchful Eustace had flown to their protection. Barton was closely muffled in his cloak, and inquired if they dared to trust themselves with him. Constantia drew back, and looked alarmed, while Isabel accepted his offered arm. "The night is dark," said Eustace, "and would conceal evil designs."--"Peradventure," replied Barton, "it will also prosper good ones; I speak but three words--speed, silence, liberty." Encouraged by these animating sounds, Eustace cheered the trembling Constance, and following their guide, they hurried along by the street which led to the castle. As the avenues to the King's quarters were more vigilantly watched, their danger was here most imminent; but Barton had secured a friend, who suffered them to pass through his garden, and by close unfrequented passages they gained the fields. The rising moon now discovered some indefinite objects, concealed among brush-wood. Barton whistled, and the countersign, "Banbury," was returned in a voice which they knew to be that of Williams. He ran for their horses, which were fastened at a little distance, while Barton alternately embraced his young friends, and affectionately bade them God-speed.--"Excellent man," said the ardent Eustace, whose over-flowing gratitude now seemed to exceed his former suspicions, "why did you not tell us your design?" "Because," replied he, "I saw not in you that property of discretion, which would allow me to trust you with your own safety." "Yet," resumed Eustace, "if I am rash, I am not base, nor will I accept freedom if it endangers your safety or wounds your conscience." "I trust," replied Barton, "I shall be back to my quarters before I am missed, and as to my conscience, that sleeps on a soft pillow. I have discharged the trust reposed in me." "The Cornet then," said Isabel, "is not a villain." Barton smiled, and replied, "Artless maiden, think not too much of the agent whom Providence employed to send you safely through a tract of country you could not otherwise have passed."