lying near the clothes-press in which the unfortunate Pitt had
taken refuge. The Captain smiled malevolently. His eyes raked the room,
resting first sardonically on the yeoman, then on the two women in the
background, and finally on Mr. Blood, who sat with one leg thrown over
the other in an attitude of indifference that was far from reflecting
his mind.

Then the Captain stepped to the press, and pulled open one of the wings
of its massive oaken door. He took the huddled inmate by the collar of
his doublet, and lugged him out into the open.

"And who the devil's this?" quoth he. "Another nobleman?"

Mr. Blood had a vision of those gallows of which Captain Hobart had
spoken, and of this unfortunate young shipmaster going to adorn one of
them, strung up without trial, in the place of the other victim of whom
the Captain had been cheated. On the spot he invented not only a title
but a whole family for the young rebel.

"Faith, ye've said it, Captain. This is Viscount Pitt, first cousin to
Sir Thomas Vernon, who's married to that slut Moll Kirke, sister to your
own colonel, and sometime lady in waiting upon King James's queen."

Both the Captain and his prisoner gasped. But whereas thereafter young
Pitt discreetly held his peace, the Captain rapped out a nasty oath. He
considered his prisoner again.

"He's lying, is he not?" he demanded, seizing the lad by the shoulder,
and glaring into his face. "He's rallying rue, by God!"

"If ye believe that," said Blood, "hang him, and see what happens to
you."

The dragoon glared at the doctor and then at his prisoner. "Pah!"
He thrust the lad into the hands of his men. "Fetch him along to
Bridgewater. And make fast that fellow also," he pointed to Baynes.
"We'll show him what it means to harbour and comfort rebels."

There was a moment of confusion. Baynes struggled in the grip of the
troopers, protesting vehemently. The terrified women screamed until
silenced by a greater terror. The Captain strode across to them. He took
the girl by the shoulders. She was a pretty, golden-headed creature,
with soft blue eyes that looked up entreatingly, piteously into the face
of the dragoon. He leered upon her, his eyes aglow, took her chin in his
hand, and set her shuddering by his brutal kiss.

"It's an earnest," he said, smiling grimly. "Let that quiet you, little
rebel, till I've done with these rogues."

And he swung away again, leaving her faint and trembling in the arms of
her