Barbara laughed bitterly.
‘Of course, the innocent must not be brought into suspicion because he has ridden an hour alongside of the guilty. No! I will say nothing of Martin.’
She was still turning over the piece of spar with her foot. It sparkled in the sun.
‘How are you going to Ashburton, Miss Jordan?’
‘I ride, and little John Ostler rides with me, conveying my portmanteau.’
Then she trifled with the spar again. There was some peacock copper on it that glistened with all the colours of the rainbow. Abruptly, at length, she turned away and went indoors.
Next morning early she came in her habit to the gate where the boy who was to accompany her held the horses. She had not seen Jasper that morning, but she knew where he was. He had gone along the lane toward the common to set the men to repair fences and hedges, as the cattle that strayed on the waste-land had broken into the wheat field.
She rode along the lane in meditative mood. She saw Jasper awaiting her on the down, near an old quarry, the rubble heap from which was now blazing with gorse in full bloom. She drew rein, and said, ‘I am going to Ashburton. I will take your message, not because you asked me, but because I doubt the truth of your story.’
‘Very well, Miss Jordan,’ he said respectfully; ‘I thank you, whatever your motive may be.’