How the matter would eventually have terminated is doubtful had not a second interruption occurred.
The door of the Inn opened, and a figure emerged at sight of which the troopers shrank back sheepishly, and the corporal's air of importance vanished pitifully.
"What is the meaning of this disturbance?" sharply demanded the new arrival.
Barbara turned eagerly towards him.
"Are you the leader of these butchers, sir?" she enquired haughtily.
Though somewhat astonished at this unexpected mode of address, Captain Protheroe, for he it was, smiled slightly and answered politely enough:
"I am the captain of these men, if that is what you would ask, madame. Are all soldiers butchers in your estimation?"
"Soldiers!" she cried scornfully. "Call ye them soldiers? But perhaps you are even as they, and 'tis by your orders they torture women and children and make a veritable hell of God's earth. I wish you joy of such work."
"Pardon my dulness, madame," answered the captain calmly, "but I have not the least idea to what you are alluding or how I have incurred your displeasure."
"No? Then hearken, sir." And in burning words she described the cause of her indignation.