d of the position in which
she had placed him, she softened. Her clear mind held justice very dear.
She approached. "Oh, I am sorry--sorry, Sir Rowland," she cried.

He sneered. He had wiped some of the blood from his face, but still
looked terrible enough.

"Sorry!" said he, and laughed unpleasantly. "You'll come with me to
Feversham and tell him what you did," said he.

"I?" She recoiled in fear.

"At once" he informed her.

"Wha... what's that?" faltered Richard, calling up his manhood, and
coming forward. "What are you saying, Blake?"

Sir Rowland disdained to heed him. "Come, mistress," he said, and
putting forward his hand he caught her wrist and pulled her roughly
towards him. She struggled to free herself, but he leered evilly upon
her, no whit discomposed by her endeavours. Though short of stature,
he was a man of considerable bodily strength, and she, though tall, was
slight of frame. He released her wrist, and before she realized what he
was about he had stooped, passed an arm behind her knees, another round
her waist, and, swinging her from her feet, took her up bodily in his
arms. He turned about, and a scream broke from her.

"Hold!" cried Richard. "Hold, you madman!"

"Keep off, or I'll make an end of you before I go," roared Blake over
his shoulder, for already he had turned about and was making for the
window, apparently no more hindered by his burden than had she been a
doll.

Richard sprang to the door. "Jasper!" he bawled. "Jasper!" He had no
weapons, as we have seen, else it may be that he had made an attempt to
use them.

Ruth got a hand free and caught at the windowframe as Blake was leaping
through. It checked their progress, but did not sensibly delay it. It
was unfortunately her wounded hand with which she had sought to cling,
and with an angry, brutal wrench Sir Rowland compelled her to unclose
her grasp. He sped down the lawn towards the orchard, where his horse
was tethered. And now she knew in a subconscious sort of way why he had
earlier withdrawn. He had gone to saddle for this purpose.

She struggled now, thinking that he would be too hampered to compel her
to his will. He became angry, and set her down beside his horse, one arm
still holding her.

"Look you, mistress," he told her fiercely, "living or dead, you come
with me to Feversham. Choose now."

His tone was such that she never doubted he would carry out his threat.
And so in dull despair she submitted, hoping tha