s, looking from the
motionless prisoner to the picture in the window.

"Percy, Percy!" screamed the Lady Barbara, and it was to the window
that her arms were stretched.

"The devil!" shouted Lord Grimsby, wavering back from the thrice
encountered fiend.

"Yes, the devil, the Black Devil," laughed the voice in the window.
"But not Lord Farquhart, not your Percy, Lady Barbara. For he sits
there as innocent as all the rest of you. But there's your purse, Lord
Grimsby; your purse and your seal and your rings that I took last
night!" He flung the articles toward Lord Grimsby. "And there's your
broidered gauntlet, that you gave somewhat easily, my Lady Barbara."
The glove fell at Lady Barbara's feet. "And here's one of my lord
bishop's rings that I sent not back with the rest. I have five minutes
more by your own word, Lord Grimsby. After that I'm yours--if you can
take me!"

XX.

The king's guards, and the motley crowd that followed them, found no
one on any road round about the court save Johan, the player's boy,
riding in most ungainly fashion on Mistress Judith's nag in the
direction of the Ogilvie woods. He had seen naught, he had heard
naught, of any fugitive highwayman. He shivered and crossed himself
when the Black Devil's name was mentioned. He even begged one of the
guards to mount and ride behind him until they should be beyond the
danger zone, assuring the fellow that Mistress Judith would reward him
well if he saved her favorite horse from the highwayman's clutches.

At practically the same moment, Master Lindley came upon Johan, the
player's boy, stupidly asleep at the end of the lane, quite unmindful
of the commotion that surged about him.

When Lindley had shaken him into some semblance of wakefulness, he
only stammered:

"Ay, ay, Master Lindley, I know you. But I know naught of last night
save that I sat late over my supper. I've not seen Mistress Judith
to-day, at all. Yes, she's spoken much of Lord Farquhart, but I know
naught of him. Now I----" And he had already drowsed off into sleep.

It was the first time that Lindley had ever seen the player's boy by
the light of day, and he was shocked by the sickly pallor of the lad's
face. The thin lips were feverishly bright and his black curls
straggled across his brow. It was a stupid face, too, but Lindley
could not stop then to marvel at the discrepancy between the clever
brain and its covering. Instead he hurried eagerly after the throng
that w