"I saw the beam of light, and it has now gone out, you say. This wisp of brown silk has extinguished it. But consider, might there not be some great purpose for a man taking to the road?"
"There might, Martin."
"I have heard, mistress, of a great noble who wore fool's motley that he might the better stand between his King and danger. I have heard of one who lay bound in chains for years that his friend might be saved. Men have died for others ever since this world was young."
"True, Martin."
"So Galloping Hermit may have some purpose which, did we but know it, would make him a hero to crown rather than a scoundrel to hang. His heart may beat honestly; the eyes which looked from these holes—"
"Were grey, Martin," and there was a catch in Barbara's voice which her companion was quick to notice.
"Courage, mistress, the beam of light is still shining. We must get rid of this."
"No, give it me. I may see him again and give it to him."
"And perhaps be mistaken after all," said Martin. "The highwayman has long since provided himself with another mask, so we may destroy this."
"No, Martin."