this?
Have you no heart whatsoever?"

"Nay, I've heart enough and to spare," the boy returned. "And 'tis not
all play acting, by any means. Did I not tell you that I would
personate the Lady Barbara? Did I not have to practice my part before
I passed the guards? Did you not serve me as well for that as anyone?
But there's no time for more of it. And I've no time for foolish words
and explanations, either." He had thrown aside the mask, the scarlet
coat and hood, and at last he stepped from the scarlet petticoat,
standing slim and long in black silk hose and short black tunic, his
black curls that fringed his small black cap alone shading his eyes.
"Listen to me, Master Lindley, and save your reproaches until I've
time for them. There are still more chances to save Lord Farquhart,
and not one must be lost. Not one second can be wasted. Take these
woman's togs and throw them inside Master Timothy Ogilvie's gate,
where they'll be found in the morning. I--I leave you here."

"But where are you going?" demanded Lindley. "You cannot cross London
at night in that guise, with no coat or cloak about you. You've
woman's shoes on your feet. You're mad, boy, and you'll be held by the
first sentry you pass."

Johan, who had turned away, stopped and came back to Lindley's side.

"Ay, perhaps you're right," he said. "Give me your coat and lend me
your sword. I may have need of it, and you've but to pass Master
Ogilvie's, and then to reach your own lodging, a safer transit than
mine by many odds. And--and, Master Lindley, wait in your lodgings
until you hear from me. Wait there unless it nears ten o'clock. If
you've not heard from me by then, you'll find me there, where Lord
Farquhart is to be sentenced, and--and be on the alert for any signal
that may be made to you by anyone, and--and----" He had buckled
Lindley's sword about his waist, he had wrapped himself in Lindley's
coat, and still he hesitated. Suddenly he dashed his hand across his
eyes. "Ah, I've no time for more," he cried, "save only--only
good-by."

He was gone into the darkness, and Lindley was left alone--coatless
and swordless--with a bundle of scarlet garments under his arm, and,
in his heart, an inexplicable longing to follow the boy, Johan, into
the night.

XIX.

It seemed as though fate had decreed that there should be but two more
acts in the career of Lord Farquhart. All London knew that he was to
be condemned to death for highway robbery at ten o'cl