was astir with Monmouth's
presence; moreover, there had been great incursions from Taunton and the
surrounding country, the women-folk of the Duke-King's followers having
come that day to Bridgwater to say farewell to father and son, husband
and brother, before the army marched--as was still believed--to
Gloucester.

The half-hour was striking from Saint Mary's--the church in which she
had been married--as Ruth reached the door of the sign of The Ship. She
was about to knock, when suddenly it opened, and Mr. Wilding himself,
with Trenchard immediately behind him, stood confronting her. At sight
of him a momentary weakness took her. He had changed from his hard-used
riding-garments into a suit of roughly corded black silk, which threw
into relief the steely litheness of his spare figure. His dark brown
hair was carefully dressed, diamonds gleamed in the cravat of snowy lace
at his throat. He was uncovered, his hat under his arm, and he stood
aside to make way for her, imagining that she was some woman of the
house.

"Mr. Wilding," said she, her heart fluttering in her throat. "May I...
may I speak with you?"

He leaned forward, seeking to pierce the shadows of her wimple; he had
thought he recognized the voice, as his sudden start had shown; and
yet he disbelieved his ears. She moved her head at that moment, and the
light streaming out from a lamp in the passage beat upon her white face.

"Ruth!" he cried, and came quickly forward. Trenchard, behind
him, looked on and scowled with sudden impatience. Mr. Wilding's
philanderings with this lady had never had the old rake's approval. Too
much trouble already had resulted from them.

"I must speak with you at once. At once!" she urged him, her tone
fearful.

"Are you in need of me?" he asked concernedly.

"In very urgent need," said she.

"I thank God," he answered without flippancy. "You shall find me at your
service. Tell me."

"Not here; not here," she answered him.

"Where else?" said he. "Shall we walk?"

"No, no." Her repetitions marked the deep excitement that possessed her.
"I will go in with you." And she signed with her head towards the door
from which he was barely emerged.

"'Twere scarce fitting," said he, for being confused and full of
speculation on the score of her need, he had for the moment almost
overlooked the relations in which they stood. In spite of the ceremony
through which they had gone together, Mr. Wilding still mostly thought
of h