He was as a man in bonds.
"In London again, Martin!" Barbara exclaimed.
"To see that you are not in trouble, mistress," he answered, and it
would have been difficult for a stranger to tell whether he was a lover,
or a trusted servant of long standing; there was something of both in
his manner.
"It is a long way to come."
"It is lonely at the Abbey," he said.
"Do you think you are safe there, Martin? Would it not be better to go
away for a time?"
"Since you are not there, mistress, I lock the door of the tower at
nights."
"But Sir John knows you are at the Abbey, and you cannot lock yourself
in the tower all day," said Barbara.
"Your uncle is a little afraid of me. He is superstitious, and unless he
has someone beside him to lend him courage, he will not molest me.
Besides, there have been many festivals where my fiddle was wanted; I
have not been much at the Abbey."
"You have been towards the West?" said Barbara eagerly.
"Yes."
"And you have heard--"
"Yes, mistress. I have heard how they suffer."
"Have you heard aught of Mr. Crosby?"
"Once or twice. I have seen one or two men who have said they escaped
the soldiers by his help.
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