"You have seen him?"
"I have heard of him."
"I must try and help him though he is a highwayman," said Barbara.
"There can be no longer any doubt, Martin, that the two are one."
"Yet you will help him? How?"
"There is a way, a hard way, and I am not yet certain what it may mean to me, but it shall be done; yes, it shall be done."
As she turned to a window and looked down into the square, Martin saw that there were tears in her eyes.
"Tell me, mistress. You have told me your troubles before now, and it has not been always in vain."
"I will tell you later, Martin.".
"Perhaps it will be too late then," he answered. "Count the cost, mistress; is a highwayman worth the price?"
"That girl was right," said Barbara, turning a glowing face to Martin. There were tears in her eyes, but they had not fallen. "She was right; even a highwayman is a man to be proud of when he helps the suffering from their brutal persecutors, as this Galloping Hermit is doing. I would sacrifice much even for a highwayman, and when he is Gilbert Crosby, too—ah! Martin, I have had dreams, pleasant dreams. I am awake now, they are only a memory, but, if need be, I will pay for them to the uttermost farthing."