The soldier drew his sword.

"No," said Matthew, striking it down with the bar; "I don't want iron.

It's so noisy. I have the sound of iron all day in my smithy. Give me a little change." He kicked the sword along the pa.s.sage, and threw his bar after it.

"Now," said he, "we are equal. Come!"

So saying, the blacksmith tapped the Roundhead on the chin. The soldier made an attempt to defend himself, but fisticuffs were out of his line, and Matthew had a series of easy openings. The smith punished him badly for a while, and then, remarking that he had set his heart on spoiling one or two more Roundheads before he died, followed the words with a blow on the soldier's nose that laid him low.

The blacksmith pulled himself together, and then, opening a cupboard door near by, pushed the sentry into it and turned the key.

The next thing was to liberate Barbara, who, when she heard what had happened, asked with nice tact if Matthew did not think that they could talk more comfortably in the kitchen, and Matthew replied that his brain was always more fertile in the presence of cold pasty and ale than at any other time.

"WAS THAT ALL RIGHT?" G.o.dFREY FAIRFAX ASKED GREGORY.

"FIRST-RATE," HE SAID. "I CAN'T THINK WHY YOUR BOOKS DON'T SUCCEED."

"PERHAPS THIS IS THE BEST OF THEM," ROBERT SUGGESTED.

"BARBARA IS VERY BRAVE," SAID JANET. "I ADMIRE HER TREMENDOUSLY."

"AND PHILIP, TOO," SAID HESTER.

"OH, BUT JACK AND THE STONE IS BEST," SAID GREGORY. "I COULD HAVE DONE THAT."

"SO COULD I," SAID HORACE CAMPBELL; "IT'S JUST WHAT I WANT TO DO--THINGS LIKE THAT."

"YOU'RE RATHER BLOOD-THIRSTY LITTLE BOYS," SAID G.o.dFREY FAIRFAX.

"PERHAPS I HAD BETTER BEGIN AGAIN. IT IS GOING TO BE QUIETER NOW."

Once in the kitchen, Barbara and Philip and the blacksmith took rapid counsel together as to the best course of action. It was now late in the afternoon; the Captain might be back with another bodyguard at any time, and, once he returned, there would be no chance of getting the stranger away. It was therefore important to furnish him with the disguise--Rupert's clothes--and spirit him out of the house at once. On the other hand, as he did not count upon being at sea till midnight, this would simply mean exchanging one hiding-place for another; but, all things considered, it was imperative that he should stay no longer at the Hall.

This decided, Rupert was called in to divest himself of his clothes, and soon afterwards he sent down the bundle, and with it Barbara sought the stranger, while Matthew, feeling very well satisfied with the day's work, sauntered to the stables to examine the wounds of the Roundhead soldiers. He found them groaning, but in a way to recover, and then, calling the boys, he set them to prepare the horses against their journey. It was approaching evening, but the month being June, there was no chance of a dark departure, even if they waited as late as half-past eight, so that one hour of leaving was almost as safe as another.

Barbara found her prisoner very tired of his confinement, and very hungry. She explained the cause of her delay, and, leaving him to change into the clothes as quickly as he might, she hurried off for food. When she came back, the young man, looking for all the world like a darker Rupert, was standing in the library with his own clothes in his hand.

"My brother will tell you what has been devised for you," Barbara said.

"Thank you," he replied, putting out his hand. "Thank you, sweet preserver. I shall see you again, I know; but it may be long, very long. Will you keep this ring? Show it to your father when he returns, and guard it carefully till we meet in the future. Then you shall give it me once more." He slipped the ring on her finger and kissed it.

A moment later he stood in the courtyard beside Rupert's horse, where the others were waiting.

"Heavens!" said Hugh to Philip; "what's happened to Rupe?"

"Yes," echoed Vernon, "who's that in old Rupe's clothes?"

"Shut up!" Philip hissed, fixing them with a meaning glance. "Say another word, and I'll flay you! That's Rupert Ommaney, and no one else, and I warn you to remember it."

"Come along, Rupert," he cried cheerily, aloud to the stranger. "It's time we were off."

With that they swung into the saddle, and rattled out of the courtyard, the stranger in the midst. As he rounded the corner of the house he looked back and smiled farewell to Barbara and the smith and Jack, who stood together watching the departure. Barbara waved her hand, and a moment later her fugitive was out of sight.

"THAT'S NOT ALL, IS IT?" HESTER INQUIRED ANXIOUSLY, AS MISS REDSTONE STOPPED.

"ISN'T IT A GOOD ENDING?" SHE ASKED.

"NO," SAID GREGORY, "OF COURSE NOT. I WANT TO KNOW IF HE GOT TO THE HARBOUR ALL RIGHT, AND WHO HE WAS."

"OH, I THINK WE KNOW WHO HE WAS," JANET SAID.

"WHO?" GREGORY ASKED. "I DON'T KNOW." "WELL, IT'S NOT THE END," SAID MISS REDSTONE; "BUT THE END IS VERY NEAR, AND THAT WILL EXPLAIN EVERYTHING." AND SHE BEGAN AGAIN.

The boys and their companion had not been gone an hour when in rode the Captain and his two soldiers with a terrible clatter. The Captain leaped from his horse, and strode into the house, roaring for the men he had left on guard. Barbara, who was in the library with Rupert, heard the noise and divined its meaning.

"Rupert," she said swiftly, on a sudden inspiration, "will you add one more kindness to your long list? Will you hide in here for a few minutes?" So saying, she showed him the secret chamber.

Rupert hesitated not a moment, but swung himself up and was lost to view. The picture hardly descended when the Captain entered.

"Ha!" he cried, casting a quick glance at Barbara. "So you have escaped my soldiers' vigilance. A nice story of traitorous mutiny I shall have to report to London! Three of the Parliament's men beaten and bound, and rebels here in hiding. For there is a hiding-place here, I will lay my life, and by the look in your eyes, mistress, the bird is still in it."

So saying, he set his men once more to work on the walls, and himself attacked the portrait. Barbara stood by watching them. After five minutes' fumbling the spring was touched. The Captain leaped into the cavity, and they heard him utter a cry of triumph. A moment later he came forth, leading Rupert. But his expression of joy vanished when he gained the light, dim though it was, and found that his captive was but a schoolboy, and a laughing one at that.

"Tricked again!" he cried, as he flung the lad off and dashed from the room.

His men followed, and in a moment they were all in the saddle.

Barbara turned to Rupert with a smile. "Thank you!" she said.

"You are splendid!" was all he could say in reply.

"If you will bring me a candle," said Barbara, "I will look at the little room again."

Bidding Rupert remain exactly where he was, she entered the secret room. "The Captain was too impetuous," she remarked, picking up a letter addressed to herself; "he ought to have gone on after discovering Rupert." "To Mistress Myddelton," the superscription ran, and she opened it with trembling fingers.

"Thank you," was all it said, but the signature struck her dizzy. It was the signature of the exiled Prince.

"I KNEW IT!" HESTER EXCLAIMED.

"BUT IT DOESN'T HURT THE STORY TO KNOW IT?" MISS REDSTONE ASKED ANXIOUSLY.

"OH, NO, NOT AT ALL," SAID JANET AND MARY. "PLEASE GO ON."

MISS REDSTONE RESUMED.