"Straight along that path, Miles!" cried Captain Harrington eagerly, pointing out the direction; "you can't miss the way. I will escort the lady."
"Not so," answered Captain Protheroe resolutely, putting Barbara's cloak about her; "I will escort Mistress Barbara. You can best lead the way."
Captain Harrington glanced for a moment at the speaker, then with a deep sigh, and a mournful shake of the head, he shrugged his shoulders, and taking Ralph's arm, turned along the path towards the village.
"Alack!" he muttered to himself, "Alack! The early bird!"
"Mistress Barbara," pleaded Captain Protheroe, as they followed the others along the narrow way, "Mistress Barbara, you have not said one word to me since I arrived."
"I had nothing to say," she answered, smiling. Then she added softly, "I knew you would come."
And with that he strove to be content.
CHAPTER XXIII
Next day they rode merrily to Durford. At early morning they set out, when the white mist curled in the valley, and the russet trees, sun-kissed on the hills, gleamed like fiery tongues of flame above a silver sea; through the bright noonday they rode, when the mists like evil witches of the night had vanished before the sunbeams, the broad earth lay smiling up into the deep blue heavens, and the myriad creatures of earth and sky raised their tiny voices in harmonious Te Deum for the glory of life. Through a world of joy and sunshine they rode, until early in the afternoon they climbed the last hill and saw in the valley below the red-roofed cottages of the village and the tall grey chimneys of the Manor House hiding among the burnished leaves.
And from that point their ride was a royal progress.