I had no opportunity of making
inquiry about you."
"There was no reason why you should," she answered.
"You did not forbid me to do so."
"Indeed, no. I had small chance to do that," Barbara returned. "You
disappeared so quickly and mysteriously."
"I had seen you to your friends--why should I wait?"
"If for nothing else, to be thanked. I wondered whether you had
recognised an enemy in the neighbourhood of my aunt's coach."
He laughed, but whether at the suggestion, or at her method of trying to
draw a confession from him, it was impossible to tell.
"Did you see the highwayman and thank him, as you proposed?" Barbara
asked.
"I did, and now it seems he was not this famous Galloping Hermit, after
all."
For a moment she was silent, recollecting that she had speculated
whether this man himself might not be the wearer of the brown mask.
"I am Barbara Lanison," she said suddenly, "niece to Sir John Lanison of
Aylingford Abbey."
"Am I in Aylingford Abbey?" Crosby asked.
"A queer little corner of it appropriated by Martin Fairley. You seem
surprised, sir."
"Indeed, I am. I have passed through many surprises during the last few
hours, not the least of them being that this is Aylingford, and that you
are astonished to see me.
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