rcy. My word is given.
You shall neither go yourself nor send your servants after the fellow.
He is absolutely safe from molestation from me and mine." Her eyes now
rested with curious insistence on Lord Farquhart's face, but he could
not read the riddle in them. "And now"--the lady leaned back
wearily--"if this clamor might all cease! I am desperately weary. Get
me to my aunt's house with as much speed as possible."

There was a short conference among the men, and then the little group
separated. But the lady had only closed her eyes. Her ears were eager.
She sat suddenly erect.

"No, Mr. Ashley," she cried, summarily; "a woman's word is as weighty
as a man's. Mine has been given. I desire that you should all of
you--all, every one--ride with me to London."

In spite of her peremptory commands, there was still further parley
before the coach was once more in progress, but the Lady Barbara, held
in converse by Mr. Ashley, did not hear it, nor did she see that one
of her escorting cavaliers remained behind when the coach moved on.

"I've reasons of my own for knowing whether the fellow still lingers
in this vicinity," Cecil Lindley had declared. "I'll promise not to
harm him, not to hold him; but I'll search the spot where Lady
Barbara's coach was stopped."

"But not single-handed!" Lord Farquhart had cried. "If you must stay,
if you must go on your fool's errand, at least take one or more of the
men with you."

"Nay, I've no fear for myself, but--but----" Lindley had hesitated.
"Our gentleman highwayman knows the standing of his victims too well
for me to have fear for my own safety. But I'll go alone, for I'll
pass the night at my cousin Ogilvie's. His place is near at hand, and
I'd not care to quarter men on him at this unseemly hour. Good luck to
you," he had cried; "and good luck to me," he had added, as he
separated himself from them and rode away.

VIII.

The night was so far advanced that the moon was now directly overhead,
and it was not very long before Lindley saw, not a hundred yards ahead
of him, a white horse, ridden negligently by a somewhat slovenly
lad--hooded, cloaked and doubled up in the saddle, as though riding
were a newly acquired accomplishment. The road was lonely enough to
instill an eerie feeling in the stoutest heart, and yet the lad seemed
quite unmoved when Lindley, after one or two vocal appeals, laid a
heavy hand on his horse's bridle.

"Are ye stone deaf, my lad, or asleep,