of the room. Her air was timid, as though she were not
sure of welcome, and something of the night's embarrassment still hung
about her. She looked round as though in search for somebody.

"I am alone here," said I, answering her glance.

"But she? Mistress----?"

"She's gone," said I. "I haven't seen her. The innkeeper tells me that
she has been gone these two hours. But she has left us the coach
and----" I walked to the window and looked out. "Yes, and my horse is
there, and her servant with his horse."

"But why is she gone? Hasn't she left----?"

"She has left ten guineas also," said I, pointing to the pile on the
table.

"And no reason for her going?"

"Unless this be one," I answered, holding out the piece of paper.

"I won't read it," said Barbara.

"It says only, 'In pay for your dagger.'"

"Then it gives no reason."

"Why, no, it gives none," said I.

"It's very strange," murmured Barbara, looking not at me but past me.

Now to me, when I pondered over the matter, it did not seem altogether
strange. Yet where lay the need to tell Mistress Barbara why it seemed
not altogether strange? Indeed I could not have told it easily, seeing
that, look at it how you will, the thing was not easy to set forth to
Mistress Barbara. Doubtless it was but a stretch of fancy to see any
meaning in Nell's mention of the dagger, save the plain one that lay on
the surface; yet had she been given to conceits, she might have used the
dagger as a figure for some wound that I had dealt her.

"No doubt some business called her," said I rather lamely. "She has
shown much consideration in leaving her coach for us."

"And the money? Shall you use it?"

"What choice have I?"

Barbara's glance was on the pile of guineas. I put out my hand, took
them up, and stowed them in my purse; as I did this, my eye wandered to
the window. Barbara followed my look and my thought also. I had no mind
that this new provision for our needs should share the fate of my last
guinea.

"You needn't have said that!" cried Barbara, flushing; although, as may
be seen, I had said nothing.

"I will repay the money in due course," said I, patting my purse.

We made a meal together in unbroken silence. No more was said of
Mistress Nell; our encounter in the corridor last night seemed utterly
forgotten. Relieved of a presence that was irksome to her and would have
rendered her apprehensive of fresh shame at every place we passed
through, Mistress B