be twisted
into any sort of trap, likely to stop my escape. "I will not. Not while
I am with you."

"That's right," she said. "We can go out together, then. Now you've
promised, suppose we go out into the garden."

We went into the garden together, talking of every subject under the sun
but the subject nearest to our hearts at the moment. I would not speak
of her capture of me; she would not speak of the Duke's march towards
Taunton. There was some constraint whenever we came near those subjects.
She was a very merry, charming companion; but the effect of her talk
that morning was to make me angry at being trapped by her. I looked over
the countryside for guiding points in case I should be able to get away.
Axminster lay to the southeast, distant about six miles; so much I could
reckon from the course of our morning's ride. I could not see Axminster
for I was shut from it by rolling combes, pretty high, which made a
narrow valley for the river. To the west the combes were very high,
strung along towards Taunton in heaps. Due east, as I suspected, quite
near to us, was Chard, where by this time the Duke must have been
taking up his position. Taunton I judged (from a mile-stone which we had
passed) to be not much more than a dozen miles from where I was. I have
always had a pretty keen sense of position. I do not get lost. Even in
the lonely parts of the world I have never been lost. I can figure out
the way home by a sort of instinct helped by a glimpse at the sun. When
I go over a hill I have a sort of picture-memory of what lies behind,
to help me home again, however tortuous my path is on the other side. So
the few glimpses which I could get of the surrounding country were real
helps to me. I made more use of them than Aurelia suspected.

We were much together that day. Certainly she did her best to make my
imprisonment happy. In the evening she was kinder; we were more at ease
together; I was able to speak freely to her.

"Aurelia," I said, "you risked your life twice to warn me."

"That's not quite true, Martin," she said. "I am a government spy,
trusted with many people's lives. I had other work to do than to warn a
naughty boy who wanted to see what the ghosts were." I was startled at
her knowing so much about me; she laughed.

"Well," she said, "I like you for it. I should have wanted to see them
myself. But the ghost-makers are scattered far enough now."

"All the same, Aurelia," I said, "I thank you for