"Tell me, mistress. You have told me your troubles before now, and it
has not been always in vain."
"I will tell you later, Martin.".
"Perhaps it will be too late then," he answered. "Count the cost,
mistress; is a highwayman worth the price?"
"That girl was right," said Barbara, turning a glowing face to Martin.
There were tears in her eyes, but they had not fallen. "She was right;
even a highwayman is a man to be proud of when he helps the suffering
from their brutal persecutors, as this Galloping Hermit is doing. I
would sacrifice much even for a highwayman, and when he is Gilbert
Crosby, too--ah! Martin, I have had dreams, pleasant dreams. I am awake
now, they are only a memory, but, if need be, I will pay for them to the
uttermost farthing."
"You will not tell me the price?"
"When I know it, and that will be to-morrow. Come to-morrow afternoon,
Martin, unless you are going back to Aylingford at once."
"I shall come," he answered; but listen, mistress, there are more ways
than one of helping Gilbert Crosby. Do not pay too high a price. I wish
you would tell me with whom you are bargaining."
"To-morrow, Martin, and until then--"
"You would be alone," said Martin quietly, and then his figure suddenly
stiffened, his hands were clenched until the muscles in them stood out
like whipcord, and his speech was quick and fierce.
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