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Updated: June 7, 2025
"I was commanded to arrest one Gilbert Crosby, of Lenfield, and it was in speaking of him that I mentioned your name. You will remember that we spoke of him on one occasion." "I remember. It was you who told me his name," said Barbara; and, whatever fears were in her mind, she spoke with absolute indifference.
"I know that you are called 'Galloping Hermit, I know that I am so deeply your debtor that I can never hope to repay. At Lenfield a little while ago you saved my life, to-day you bring me what is more than life." "And a message," said the highwayman. "Word from a certain fiddler you expected to find here. He will not come.
Was Rosmore speaking the truth? Could such a man marry such a woman? It seemed impossible, and yet where love rules the impossible constantly happens. He had grown so used to seeing Harriet Payne a serving maid at his manor at Lenfield that he had thought of her in no other position.
Men still surrounded Lenfield. It was whispered amongst them that, although Monmouth was a prisoner, there was another important traitor yet to capture. They had been told so by Lord Rosmore, under whose command they were. Now they were ordered to draw in closer, and to take anyone who attempted to escape. "Capture him if possible, but, if not, shoot him down," was Rosmore's command.
"I don't know it over-well, my lord, but I should say we've got Salisbury almost straight behind us and Winchester some miles in that direction," and the man pointed a little to the right. "I should say we've been riding pretty well due north from Lenfield." "Then if the highwayman wanted to make Winchester he would have to cross us somewhere if we go straight forward?"
Either from actual knowledge, or conviction, the highwayman seemed to be certain that at this spot the woods surrounding Lenfield Manor would not be so carefully watched, that so stiff a fence would be deemed sufficient to make escape that way impossible.
He walked through the woods to the high road, and if he saw a peasant whose face was unfamiliar, waited for him lest he should prove a fugitive and bring news. On Tuesday Lenfield knew that Sedgemoor had been fought and lost, and that Monmouth was a fugitive. In which direction he had fled was not known, but Crosby hazarded a guess and rode some distance towards Cranbourne Chase.
I have kissed it night and morning, and it has brought the vision of you to my waking eyes and into my dreams. I have seen you going from room to room in my old home at Lenfield, I have seen you descending the stairs, so vividly that I have found myself holding out my arms to you. Sometimes when the days were dark, and I was troubled, an awful sadness has crept into my soul. Doubts have come.
"As I told you then, he is a man of most contemptible character," Rosmore went on, "a cowardly enemy and a dangerous friend. And he is something more. We surrounded his house at Lenfield; we saw him enter, and then I rode to the door, demanding to see him. The servant went to call him, and returned to say she could not find him.
"No, no, a kindly message from a man who would do me a service," Crosby answered. "If I am inquired for, Golding, at any time, or by anyone, show no hesitation, but bring them to me at once; we have nothing to hide at Lenfield," and then, when the old man had gone, he added, "at present, at any rate."
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