Captain Protheroe strode thoughtfully up and down his room at the Inn, puffing furiously at his pipe and staring at the floor.

On his return from his interview with Barbara he had found awaiting him an order to proceed at once to Taunton, and in the yard without he could hear his men still busy with preparations for their early start on the morrow. But though wearied in body with his long day's work the captain felt no inclination for sleep, and, his thoughts still busily occupied with the events of the past few hours, he passed the time pacing his room. His promise once given, he was not the man to waste many regrets upon what was passed, yet as he thought over the affair his brows puckered into a frown, and he ground the stem of his pipe savagely between his teeth. To wink at the escape of a rebel was indeed no great matter in those days. He knew well to what extent corruption and bribery were rife among his fellow officers and how few would hesitate to allow a rebel to slip through their hands could they thereby help to line their pockets. From the Lord Chief Justice downwards the custom was openly practised. Even the Queen's maids of honour, delicate women whose sensibilities were wrung by the death of a beetle, and who would have swooned at the idea of crushing a moth, even they openly trafficked in pardons, and complained bitterly when the life ransoms extracted from the impoverished friends of the prisoners failed to satisfy their demands. But hitherto Captain Protheroe had prided himself upon keeping his fingers clean amid such general corruption, and it enraged him to feel that at last he too had succumbed. Not indeed for a bribe's sake, but because a woman believed him worthy of her trust and his pride would not allow him to betray it.

But was it in truth for that reason alone? Might not it also be because the woman was possessed of a pair of wonderful eyes and knew how to use them?

"Bah!" he muttered angrily, pausing to knock the ashes from his pipe. "How a woman may play the deuce with a man's work!" Then drawing from his pocket a small bow of scarlet ribbon, he gazed at it for a few moments with a strange expression on his face, and with a short laugh flung it from him into a corner of the room and resumed his promenade.

He was interrupted at length by a loud knock at the door, and at his summons Corporal Crutch entered to say that after diligent search he had discovered the missing pedlar, and that the fellow confessed to having certain matters of import to make known to the captain alone. The corporal had no desire that Captain Protheroe should hear of his first interview with Simon, feeling that his customary acuteness had slightly failed him on that occasion, and after a vain attempt to extract some information on his own account from the sulky pedlar, he was at length forced to hand the man over to his superior officer, threatening him first, however, with dire penalties should he breathe a word concerning their previous encounter.

"Bring the fellow in, I will see him," answered the captain, on learning that the pedlar was without.

The order was obeyed and the hawker, glancing furtively from side to side, was pushed rather than ushered into the room.

"Well, my man," Began Captain Protheroe, eyeing him sharply, "what is your business with me?"

"An it please your honour, I have information to sell to your honour concerning the hiding-place of a certain rebel."

"To sell to me!" answered the captain sternly. "It is not for a loyal subject of his Majesty to drive bargains with his officers. We do not buy information, we exact it."

The manner in which these words were uttered caused the hawker to modify his tone.

"May it please your honour," he whimpered, "is there no reward for the arrest of a rebel?"

"If your information be correct, and above all of value (which I greatly doubt), you shall have such money for your services as they deserve. Now for your story, and waste no more of my time."

Thus driven to a corner and moved as much by desire of vengeance as by greed of gold, the hawker related how he had received the letter from Sir Rupert Winslow, and the information it contained.

"Then the ladies know nought of the matter as yet?" enquired the captain.

"Nothing whatever, your honour."

"But this letter—where is it?"

"I—I have mislaid it, sir—but——"

"You are lying to me, knave," interrupted the captain coldly. "By Heaven! an I find you trying to deceive me you shall taste o' the rope's end before an hour is passed."

The hawker cowered before such a prospect, and discovering after much protestation and evasion that the captain evidently knew more of the matter than he had expected, he decided to tell the truth. Thereupon he gave a full account of the transaction, up to the time of his escape from the smithy, omitting only (out of respect for the Corporal's threats) to refer to his interview with that worthy.

Captain Protheroe listened attentively to the narrative, smiling slightly at the complaint of Barbara's treatment. When it was ended he turned coldly on Simon.

"That will do. You can go."

"But the reward, your honour," began the hawker nervously.

The captain eyed him sternly.

"An I had my will with you, fellow, you should to the pillory as a thief and extortioner. But as, in this world, a rogue must be paid for his roguery, take your liberty and deem it meet reward for information which I received an hour since. Be off with you."

The hawker, with a deep, heartfelt curse, shuffled out of the room.

"I would that I had seen her braving the fellow," muttered the captain as he recharged his pipe.

So engrossed was he in his meditations that he paid no heed to a sudden clamour in the yard without, and he sprang to his feet with an oath of astonishment when the door was flung wide open, and the corporal burst violently into the room.

"We have him, captain!" he cried, almost dancing with eagerness, "we have him at last, the very fellow himself. Caught as clean as a bird in a net."

"What means this, sirrah?" interrupted the captain sharply. "Art mad, or drunk; or both together?"

The corporal's face fell. He pulled himself together and saluted in a somewhat crestfallen fashion.

"Your pardon, captain," he continued more calmly. "But an it please you, we have taken Sir Rupert Winslow himself."

It was now Captain Protheroe's turn to betray excitement.

"Taken Sir Rupert Winslow! Why, fellow, 'tis impossible. You are dreaming."

"Dreaming or no," answered the corporal sulkily, "he is without. We spied him skulking round the stables to the back o' the Inn. I doubt not wi' intent to steal a fresh horse. There we ambushed him. He made a fierce resistance, but," with an air of supreme complaisance, "I soon overpowered him."

"The devil take the rash fool!" muttered the captain. "Well, bring him in, corporal. And do you see that the men get to rest, we must be off at daybreak to-morrow. I will see to the security of the prisoner."

The corporal saluted, and a moment later ushered his prisoner into the room.

Captain Protheroe looked up curiously at his entrance, and for some minutes silently surveyed him, until the prisoner, weary of such intent scrutiny, tossed his hat on to the table, and flung himself back into a chair with a half-embarrassed, half-reckless air.

The captain broke the silence.

"This is a strange ending, sir, to so lengthy a chase," he said gravely.

"Ah, well! 'twas bound to end sooner or later, and as well this way as another," he answered with a short laugh. "In truth, 'twas a hole and corner business, and I am weary of it."

"You have been to visit your sister at the Manor House?" queried the captain.

The prisoner looked up haughtily.

"My past movements are my own affairs, sir; you and I are concerned with the present alone."

"I take you, sir," answered the captain quietly. "Moreover, I understand the reason of your presence here, and I honour you for it. It is irregular, of course, but under the circumstances, I cannot refuse to give you every satisfaction."

"Satisfaction!" exclaimed the prisoner in astonishment.

"Aye, sir. You doubtless understand me."

"Not I. I have no personal quarrel with you, that I know of."

"No quarrel! Then am I wrong in supposing you to be the brother of Mistress Barbara Winslow?"

"And what then, sir," demanded the prisoner sharply. "What of her?"

Captain Protheroe shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah! I see I am mistaken," he replied. "I deemed, sir, you had ventured hither in order to seek me and to demand satisfaction for my behaviour towards your sister. But since——"

"Will you have the goodness to explain, sir," interrupted the prisoner fiercely.

The captain smiled calmly.

"Egad! I confess 'twas a somewhat low piece of work. But the wench was so exasperating and withal so pretty. And I give you my word," he added with a cynical laugh, "she showed no over-great reluctance to my kisses."

The prisoner sprang to his feet, his fists clenched, his eyes blazing with passion.

"May Heaven have mercy on you, sir, but 'tis a most dastardly lie."

"Heaven will need have mercy on you my friend, if you give the lie so freely," answered the captain coldly. "But perchance you are willing to fight now, sir, unless"—with a laugh—"you have smaller regard for your sister's reputation than I surmised."

"Now, by Heaven! you shall swallow your words," cried the youth, white with fury.

Captain Protheroe rose.

"I am at your service," he answered coolly. "I have two rapiers handy, there is no time like the present, and as for place, why this chamber will serve as well as anywhere."

The prisoner bowed assent, and after a moment's hesitation flung off his cloak and turned to take his rapier.

"One moment, sir," continued the captain. "Seeing that I am in no manner bound to grant you, my prisoner, this satisfaction, before I indulge you there is one stipulation I would make."

"Name it."

"That the encounter be à entrance." Then seeing his opponent hesitate, he continued:

"Mark me, sir. An the advantage be mine, you shall have your choice of meeting death by my hand presently, or on the gallows some few weeks hence. If, on the other hand, the victory fall to you, you will doubtless use the opportunity to regain your freedom, and since my life must go bail for your safe-keeping, I claim the right to a similar choice. If you refuse these conditions I must withdraw the privilege I would confer."

"Have it as you will." cried the prisoner impatiently.

"Draw then, and defend yourself."

They took their positions and the blades crossed.

After the first few passes a look of surprise crept into Captain Protheroe's eyes as he realised his adversary's skill. He, himself, had studied the art in many countries, and knew that few swordsmen in England were his equal, yet he found this youth no mean opponent. From the outset he felt no doubt of the result—a skilled swordsman soon gauges the extent of his adversary's powers.

As for the prisoner, after the first fierce attack his fury subs............