Barbara Winslow, Rebel

by Beth Ellis

"No, I will have your story first. Tell me—— But stay, I had forgot. You are worn and hungry. Come. I know where there is food in plenty. Come!"

So she led him back to the hollow, and on the way he told her his story. How he had been left for dead on the field of Sedgemoor, but was saved by some pitiful peasants, who hid him in their cottage and nursed him back to life. But a few days since, while his strength was still but half-restored, a raid was made upon his hiding-place, he having been betrayed, and he had but just escaped to the wood in safety. There he had lurked for three days, feeding upon berries and such wild fruits as he could find, until at last, his strength well-nigh spent, and his spirit hopeless, he had resolved to give up the struggle and end his life.

As he finished his story, to which the girl listened with eager sympathy, they reached the enclosure, and parting the bushes, Barbara led him proudly into the hollow.

"Here is our camp, Ralph, is it not a Paradise? And now sit, and I will fetch you food."

"But tell me, Barbara," he asked suddenly. "You are not alone here. Surely you cannot have wandered all night alone in this wilderness."

Now Barbara hesitated, wondering how best to explain the apparent inconsistency of her conduct in having declared herself in urgent need of his protection, when she was provided with a most capable protector already. And while she paused, choosing her words, Captain Protheroe himself suddenly appeared at the entrance and stopped in wonder, gazing questioningly at the intruder.

Then a strange thing happened. Before Barbara could explain matters to either of her companions, Ralph turned, and saw the cause of her sudden silence. He stared wildly at the captain for one moment, then springing to his feet, he drew his sword, and rushed full pace to throw himself upon the intruder.

Captain Protheroe was unarmed, and the attack was utterly unexpected, but he was a man of ever ready wit, quick to meet all turns and shifts of fortune, and was accordingly in no wise overthrown by the onslaught. He stepped back a pace, into the shelter of the bushes, and pulling down a large leafy branch, he entrenched himself behind it, as behind a shield, and peered cautiously through the twigs at his opponent.

As for Ralph, he stopped dead for a moment in absolute amazement at this manoeuvre, then with a new rush of anger at what he deemed the cowardice of the fellow, he flew fiercely to the attack, slashing aside the leaves, and thrusting through the branches in a fury of rage. But Captain Protheroe's spirits rose to the fight, and he on his part did good work with his branch, swinging it from side to side, warding off the blows of his opponent, and occasionally getting in a thrust on his own account with the leafy mass, at his enemy's face.

The twigs snapped, the branches cracked, the leaves flew round them in a wild shower at the sweeping strokes of Ralph's sword. Sure never before was such a mad confusion.