"
Outside the coffee-house they separated. Where Martin went at nights
Fellowes did not know, nor did he inquire. Fairley could find him, if
necessary, and that was enough.
Neither did Barbara know where Martin lived, or she would surely have
sent him a message next day, for long before noon she had made up her
mind to act without delay.
The coming of Sir John was as ill-omened to her as it was to Martin. In
some manner, she was convinced, his presence in London nearly concerned
her, and much might depend on her promptness in carrying out the
resolution she had made. So she awoke with a convenient headache, and
had the news conveyed to her aunt. Then, assured that she would be left
undisturbed, she dressed very carefully, anxious to look her best, and
even practised her most winning smiles before her mirror. Her maid, who
could be trusted and was a child of intrigue by nature, loyally assisted
her mistress, and they were able to leave the house together without
hindrance. Calling a coach, they were driven to the Temple, where Judge
Marriott had his lodging. Barbara had determined to appeal to him. If he
would, he certainly could save Gilbert Crosby, and, if she hoped so to
entreat him that the reward he asked for his help should not be too
heavy, she was prepared to pay whatever price he demanded.
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