"I bore Mistress Winslow company," interrupted Ralph quietly.
Captain Jonas turned to him sharply.
"You?" he asked contemptuously. "And who may you be?"
The youth drew himself up haughtily.
"I am Sir Ralph Trevellyan," he answered, eyeing the captain defiantly.
"Ralph Trevellyan. Why that's the name o' the fellow who escaped us at Burrows' Farm, four days syne. Burrows' son told me so himself, under the whip. You never saw the inside of Taunton gaol, my friend."
"Tut! man," interposed Captain Protheroe lightly. "Let them have their little romance. We can prove their identity well enow, so a lie more or less is no matter, and seems to cheer their spirits mightily. Fill your glass, and tell us the latest about the fair Arabella."
Captain Jonas darted a sharp glance at the speaker. Captain Protheroe leaned back in his chair, and met the suspicious glance with a lazy smile. But behind his nonchalant demeanour his wits worked shrewdly, and he never for an instant took his eyes from his companion's face.
There was a slight pause. Then in an altered voice Captain Jonas asked:
"Where did you take them, Protheroe?"