The streets were very silent, they passed on unheeded, avoiding the watch by careful detours. Of their former pursuers they heard nothing; and, indeed, these latter had given up the chase in despair.
As for Robert, with the quick wit of one well versed in such adventures, experience culled from many encounters with the watch, when his two companions set off down the alley he had scrambled without more ado through the very window whence the alarm was first given, and biding there quietly till the pursuit had passed, he escaped thence as silently as he had entered, and made the best speed he could back home.
So none hindered the fugitives in their progress, and they hurried on, with hope ever dawning more brightly before them.
Suddenly a man reeled out of a cross-street, and ran straight into Barbara's arms. He started back with a drunken curse, stared stupidly down at her, and then passed on.
But when he had gone a few paces he paused irresolutely, looked back over his shoulder, and then turning, ran unsteadily after them and seized the girl's arm.
"Mistress," he said in a hoarse whisper, "I saw thee in court to-day."
Barbara gave a cry of horror and shrank back, Captain Protheroe clenched his fists, and glanced cautiously up and down the quiet street.
But the man laughed drunkenly.
"Bah!" he cried, "I'll not betray you, my beauty. 'Tis too pretty a face to lie hid in prison, and kissing, not scourging, were meeter for thee. Aye, and so I'd tell my Lord Jeffreys himself. I'll not betray thee. But get you from the town. Taunton streets are not for you. That bonny face is not soon forgotten, my angel."
Captain Protheroe scowled. His fingers itched to be at the man's throat, for though the warning was kindly, the tone was insolent, and the fellow leered at the girl with his bleared eyes. But a disturbance was not to be risked. With a curt nod, and a gently murmured word of thanks from Barbara, they hurried on, leaving the belated traveller leaning up against a wall chuckling over their hasty retreat.