why hesitate?"

"My duty is also to keep faith with Richard, to think of those poor
misguided folk who are to be saved by this," cried Ruth in an agony. "If
Mr. Wildin is warned, they will all be ruined."

Diana stamped her foot impatiently. "Had I thought to find you in this
mind, I had warned him myself;" said she.

"Ah! Why did you not?"

"That the chance of doing so might be yours. That you might thus repay
him the debt in which you stand."

"Diana, I can't!" The words broke from her in a sob.

But whatever her interest in Mr. Wilding for her own sake, Diana's prime
intent was the thwarting Sir Rowland Blake. If Wilding were warned of
what manner of feast was spread at Newlington's, Sir Rowland would be
indeed undone.

"You think of Richard," she exclaimed, "and you know that Richard is to
have no active part in the affair--that he will run no risk. They have
assigned him but a sentry duty that he may warn Blake and his followers
if any danger threatens them."

"It is not of Richard's life I am thinking, but of his honour, of his
trust in me. To warn Mr. Wilding were... to commit an act of betrayal."

"And is Mr. Wilding to be slaughtered with his friends?" Diana asked
her. "Resolve me that. Time presses. In half an hour it will be too
late."

That allusion to the shortness of the time brought Ruth an inspiration.
Suddenly she saw a way. Wilding should be saved, and yet she would not
break faith with Richard nor ruin those others. She would detain him,
and whilst warning him at the last moment, in time for him to save
himself; not do so until it must be too late for him to warn the others.
Thus she would do her duty by him, and yet keep faith with Richard and
Sir Rowland. She had resolved, she thought, the awful difficulty that
had confronted her. She rose suddenly, heartened by the thought.

"Give me your cloak and wimple," she bade Diana, and Diana flew to do
her bidding. "Where is Mr. Wilding lodged?" she asked.

"At the sign of The Ship--overlooking the Cross, with Mr. Trenchard.
Shall I come with you?"

"No," answered Ruth without hesitation. "I will go alone." She drew the
wimple well over her head, so that in its shadows her face might lie
concealed, and hid her shimmering white dress under Diana's cloak.

She hastened through the ill-lighted streets, never heeding the rough
cobbles that hurt her feet, shod in light indoor wear, never heeding the
crowds that thronged her way. All Bridgwater