She turned, as she was told, into a quieter street, and hurried a
little. To be free from this horrible place, it was her only thought.
Before she had gone far the houses began to straggle; she was at the
edge of the town. The moon was just rising, and by its misty light
Barbara saw that the open country was before her. A little further on,
the road began to dip, and there, in the shadow of a belt of trees,
stood a carriage. There were no gibbets with their twenty-nine victims
along this road; that sight she was spared.
Watson came to a standstill.
"Mr. Crosby waits, madam. Good fortune go with you."
"Thank you," she said, and pressed some coins into the man's hand. "Some
day, perhaps, I may thank you better."
The soldier saluted as she went forward, watching her, but not following
her.
The post-boy was already in his place, and it was evident that the
horses were impatient to be gone. A groom stood beside the carriage.
"Mr. Crosby is here, madam," the man said as he opened the door. "There
is no time to lose."
Barbara entered the coach quickly, and literally fell into the arms of
the man who was awaiting her, for as the door was shut the horses
bounded forward.
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