east rise and fall, and
a bright red patch marked either cheek.

"Yes, I'm Nelly," said she, and laughed again.

Barbara's eyes met hers.

"You were at Hatchstead?"

"Yes," said Nell, and now she smiled defiantly; but in a moment she
sprang forward, for Barbara had reeled, and seemed like to faint again
and fall. A proud motion of the hand forbade Nell's approach, but
weakness baffled pride, and now perforce Barbara caught at her hand.

"I--I can go in a moment," stammered Barbara. "But----."

Nell held one hand. Very slowly, very timidly, with fear and shame plain
on her face, she drew nearer, and put out her other hand to Barbara.
Barbara did not resist her, but let her come nearer; Nell's glance
warned me not to move, and I stood where I was, watching them. Now the
clasp of the hand was changed for a touch on the shoulder, now the
comforting arm sank to the waist and stole round it, full as timidly as
ever gallant's round a denying mistress; still I watched, and I met
Nell's bright eyes, which looked across at me wet and sparkling. The
dark hair almost mingled with the ruddy brown as Barbara's head fell on
Nell's shoulder. I heard a little sob, and Barbara moaned:

"Oh, I'm tired, and very hungry."

"Rest here, and you shall have food, my pretty," said Nell Gwyn. "Simon,
go and bid them give you some."

I went, glad to go. And as I went I heard, "There, pretty, don't cry."

Well, women love to weep. A plague on them, though, they need not make
us also fools.

CHAPTER XIX

A NIGHT ON THE ROAD

In a man of green age and inexperience a hasty judgment may gain pardon
and none need wonder that his hopes carry him on straightway to
conclusions born of desire rather than of reason. The meeting I feared
had passed off so softly that I forgot how strange and delicate it was,
and what were the barriers which a gust of sympathy had for the moment
levelled. It did not enter my mind that they must raise their heads
again, and that friendship, or even companionship, must be impossible
between the two whom I, desperately seeking some refuge, had thrown
together. Yet an endeavour was made, and that on both sides; obligation
blunted the edge of Mistress Barbara's scorn, freedom's respect for
virtue's chain schooled Nell to an unwonted staidness of demeanour. The
fires of war but smouldered, the faintest puff of smoke showing only
here and there. I was on the alert to avoid an outbreak; for awhile no
outbreak