“Nay, ’tis I, Lady Barbara Gordon,” a girl’s voice answered. “Judith—Johan, the lad that came to Judith, told me that you were to take him to-night in my guise to Lord Farquhart. But I would speak to Lord Farquhart myself. I must see Lord Farquhart myself. I may not have another chance. You have the permits of which the boy spoke? You will take me in his place?”
She advanced slowly, still hesitating, her manner pleading as her words had pleaded; her trembling voice seeming but an echo of the tremors that shook her frame.
Lindley hurriedly tried to reassure her. Yes, he said, he had the permits. Assuredly he would take her. And yet, even as he spoke, he chafed at the woman’s interference with Johan’s plan of rescue. Why could she not have let the boy offer Lord Farquhart a chance to escape? But nothing of this was in his manner. Instead he soothed her fears, assuring her that ’twas but a short distance to the place where Farquhart was lodged, and, undoubtedly, the stormy night would aid their purpose, for few inquisitive stragglers would be abroad.
With faltering steps the lady moved by his side. Once he thought he heard a sob, and he laid a hand on her arm to comfort her.
“You must have courage, my lady,” he muttered. “You must take courage to Lord Farquhart.”
Once in the flare of a passing torch he saw the girl quite distinctly. She was draped all in scarlet, a scarlet velvet coat and hood, and, underneath, a scarlet petticoat. One hand held a corner of the cloak about her chin and lips, and, under the drooping hood, he saw a black silk mask. She shrank toward him as the light fell on her and caught his arm with her free hand. He laid his hand protectingly on hers, and after that, until they reached the sheriff’s lodge, she held fast to him.
Even when Lindley showed his permits to the guard on duty, she still held him fast, and it was well that she did, for she seemed almost to swoon when their entry was denied.
All permits to see the prisoner had been revoked at sundown, the fellow said. The prisoner’s case had come before the court that afternoon. He was to be sentenced in the morning at ten o’clock. No, Lord Grimsby had not been present. Lord Grimsby had been summoned from Padusey, however, to pronounce the highwayman’s doom.
For an instant the Lady Barbara seemed about to fall forward. Her entire weight hung on Lindley’s arm. He supported her as best he could, but his own voice shook as he whispered once more:
“Courage, courage, my lady!”