"Aye, sir, 'tis true enough. Think not I feel no shame. But—Rupert is my brother."
Her voice broke piteously over the last words. She was worn out with the terror and excitement of the day, and could scarce keep down her tears. She bit her lips, and her breast heaved with a strangled sob. He drew near and stared down at her gloomily.
"So because you are a woman and this rebel chances to be your brother, my honour must go bail for his life! Do you understand, Mistress Barbara, what you ask of me?"
For an instant she hesitated. Then she raised her head and turned to him proudly:
"Yes, sir, I understand, and—I ask it."
He bowed.
"So be it, madame, your brother is safe from me."
He turned coldly, and taking up his hat, walked to the door.
Barbara followed him timidly.
"Captain Protheroe," she pleaded softly. "Honour may be one of the first virtues, but there is a greater even than Honour,—Charity."