Barbara turned and regarded him gravely from head to foot.
"I like you not," she remarked coolly, as the result of her critical survey.
"That may well be," he answered, smiling scornfully. "But an you answer not my questions, and that speedily, I must find means to make you do so. Now speak; which shall it be?"
Barbara glanced round eagerly for a way of escape, her mouth drooped, her eyes opened wide with fear, her hands were clasped convulsively at her throat, the fingers fidgeting with the ribbons of her cloak. She shook her head once or twice helplessly, casting at the captain glances of indignation, pleading, and reproach.
But he remained resolute. Then she began in a trembling voice:
"Well, sir, if there be no other way of escape, I must—I must e'en——I must run!" And as she spoke the word, with a quick movement she twisted herself free from the cloak which she had previously unfastened, leaving it in the captain's hands, and darting up the bank by the roadside, disappeared into the plantation beyond.
One or two of the troopers made a motion to pursue her, but the captain called them back.
"Let her go. You would never find her in the dark." And added, laughing, "The wench deserves her freedom. Fall in, men, and back to quarters; we can do no more to-night."
Nothing loth, the troopers resumed their way back to the village; but ere he departed, Captain Protheroe stooped and tore a ribbon from the discarded cloak, and with a short, half-shamed laugh twisted it round his wrist.
CHAPTER II