“I should not have taken that chance; rather I should have died beside my horse before bringing this danger to you.”
“Hush! they will not harm me.” Her head went up with a little triumphant fling as she said this; for she was thinking of Barry, and how, if detection came, he would surely save her.
“You do not know the penalty one pays for harbouring a spy; I will go this very night and free you from this menace.”
“No, no,” was the hasty answer. “We should both be undone—Tarleton’s men will watch the house all night. To-morrow night perchance, or the night after; but not to-night. You are safe here for the present, for his lordship’s orders will be obeyed.”
He came close to her, so close that he saw the pallor of her face, and the perfume of her dress rose with a sweet intoxication to his nostrils. “Joscelyn, is it for love of me that you have done this thing?”
“No.”
“For what, then?”
“For sake of our old comradeship and for Betty. Besides, you saved my life this afternoon—a return of favours leaves no burden of obligation on either of us.”
“Nay; you risk more for me than I did for you.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “The accounts balance.” Then glancing about solicitously, she added, “I would I could make you more comfortable, but our first care must be to avert suspicion. Good night.”