soldier, without a moment's hesitation, thrust the pamphlet inside
his coat, flung himself on his horse, and, turning from the
market-place, dashed down the road.

CHAPTER XII

AN ECCENTRIC JAILER

"For a man who can't abide the sex, this _is_ a predicament," muttered
the patroon's jackal, as the coach in which he found himself sped
rapidly along the highway. "Here am I as much an abductor as my lord
who whipped his lady from England to the colonies!" Gloomily regarding
a motionless figure on the seat opposite, and a face like ivory
against the dark cushions. "Curse the story; telling it led to this!
How white she is; like driven snow; almost as if--"

And Scroggs, whose countenance lost a shade of its natural flush,
going from flame-color to salmon hue, bent with sudden apprehension
over a small hand which hung from the seat.

"No; it's only a swoon," he continued, relieved, feeling her wrist
with his knobby fingers. "How she struggled! If it hadn't been for
smothering her with the cloak--but the job's done and that's the end
of it."

Settling back in his seat he watched her discontentedly, alternately
protesting against the adventure, and consoling himself weakly with the
remembrance of the retainer; weighing the risks, and the patroon's
ability to gloss over the matter; now finding the former unduly
obtrusive, again comforted with the assurance of the power pre-empted
by the land barons. Moreover, the task was half-accomplished, and it
would be idle to recede now.

"Why couldn't the patroon have remained content with his bottle?" he
grumbled. "But his mind must needs run to this frivolous and
irrational proceeding! There's something reasonable in pilfering a
purse, but carrying off a woman--Yet she's a handsome baggage."

Over the half-recumbent figure swept his glance, pausing as he
surveyed her face, across which flowed a tress of hair loosened in the
struggle. Save for the unusual pallor of her cheek, she might have
been sleeping, but as he watched her the lashes slowly lifted, and he
sullenly nerved himself for the encounter. At the aspect of those
bead-like eyes, resolute although ill at ease, like a snake striving
to charm an adversary, a tremor of half-recollection shone in her gaze
and the color flooded her face. Mechanically, sweeping back the
straggling lock of hair, she raised herself without removing her eyes.
He who had expected a tempest of tears shifted uneasily, even
irritably, from