“Heaven’s pity! What do you mean?” moaned the girl, whitening to the lips. He laughed joyously, but checked himself when he saw the terrifying effect of his words on his companion. They were now clear of Banbury and trotting along the Coventry road. Their departure had met with no opposition, and they had seen not even a single soldier. The open country lay before them, the turrets of the town sinking in the rear.
“My foolish words have frightened you. Forget them! I am accumulating experiences that will interest you to hear when the time comes for the telling of them, but of one thing I am assured, the good Lord stands by his own, and He has shielded me since yesterday morning broke. Come, Frances, let us gallop. That, and a trust in the Lord, will remedy all the ills of man or woman.”
She was glad of the respite and they set off at full speed, nevertheless her mind was sorely troubled. “What did he know, what did he know?” beat through her brain in unison with the clatter of the horse’s hoofs. It was not possible that chance had brought him thus to the very centre of her guilty secret. Cromwell, treachery, midnight stealth, the Broughton road, these words and phrases tortured her. Was this, then, the line of his revenge? Did he know all, and did he purpose to keep her thus in suspense, hinting, soothing her fears, then reviving them, making her black crime the subject of jest and laughter? She cast a glance over her shoulder. Banbury had disappeared; they were alone, flying over the land. The doubt was unbearable; she would endure it no longer. Impetuously she reined her horse to a stand. “Stop!” she cried, and at the word her own horse and Bruce halted and stood. The young man turned with alarm to her agitated face.
“What do you mean by your talk of Broughton and Cromwell?”
“Oh, that is a secret! I did not intend to tell you until our journey was ended, when we could laugh over it together.”
“It is no laughing matter. I must know what you mean.”
“All dangers are laughable once they are past. An unknown, unsuspected danger threatened me at Banbury. It is now past and done with, and the person who plotted against me can harm me no more. There are reasons why I do not wish to mention this person’s name. Barring that, I may tell you now as well as another time, if you care to listen.”
“Do I know the person?”
“Oh, yes! You knew the person long before I did. It was a person I trusted, but not know to be a traitor and a thief.”
It was some moments before Frances could speak, but at last she said very quietly, looking down at her horse’s mane,—“Tell me the story, and I will tell you the name of the thief.”