"Your servants, Mistress Lanison," said a man at the door. "We are sent to bring you to Dorchester."
"By whom?"
"I had my orders from my superior; I cannot say who first gave them."
"I am travelling to Dorchester."
"We must be your escort, madam."
"Am I a prisoner?"
"One that shall be well treated by us and by all, I trust. This rogue here has led you off the road. A little further from the highway and I suppose you would have robbed them, you scoundrel."
"No, sir, I only thought the dust would be less this way," Fairley answered meekly.
Another man looked keenly at Martin, and then laughed.
"Surely this is that fiddler fellow we know something of?"