Had he really deserted her? The question came through the long, wakeful
hours of the night. It came with the memory of that little cadence of
notes, the same notes in which his fiddle laughed. He had sung them in a
foolish fashion when the men surrounded the coach; had he meant to speak
to her by them? The thought brought hope and sleep, sleep giving
strength, hope bringing new courage when the day came.
"To help Mr. Crosby I must Speak with Judge Marriott, who is in
Dorchester," she told Harriet Payne. "You must find him and ask him to
come to me."
"Will he come, madam?"
"I think so."
"Alas, you have need of help yourself now."
"Perhaps not such need as may appear. To arrest me does not prove me
guilty of treason."
"It is not only the guilty who are suffering."
"Out upon you, girl, for whining so easily," said Barbara. "Courage
lends help against every ill, even against death itself. You will find
where Judge Marriott is lodged, and tell him where I am."
"They may not let me have speech with the judge."
"You must contrive, use art, use--Ah, you are a woman, and need no
lesson from me."
So Harriet Payne went upon her mission, and Barbara was impatient until
her return.
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