"Stop!" he said to the post-boy, and immediately the grinding wheels
were still.
There was the quick thud of hoofs behind them, coming so rapidly that
there was no hope of escape if they were pursued. Barbara leaned
forward, looking at Martin as he unfastened the holster and half drew
out a pistol; but Harriet Payne had thrust her head from the other
window.
"I knew it! He has betrayed us!" she said shrilly.
"The devil take that wench!" growled Martin.
Two men rode round the bend in the road, then two more, then others, a
score of them at least. With an oath Martin let the pistol fall back
into the holster. The odds were too great. His head sunk a little, and
he looked strangely limp in his saddle.
"Fire at them! Be a man and defend us!" shrieked Harriet, but Martin did
not move.
Barbara looked at him with wondering eyes; she was still looking at him
when the coach was surrounded.
"Your servants, Mistress Lanison," said a man at the door. "We are sent
to bring you to Dorchester."
"By whom?"
"I had my orders from my superior; I cannot say who first gave them."
"I am travelling to Dorchester."
"We must be your escort, madam.
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