“There is no one within but a solitary lady—an invalid. She is taken with a fever, and is hurrying home to prevent it becoming dangerous. She has begged that you spare her the cruel humors of the evening air, and allow her to stay out of the rain. This is her purse”—Clent raised the pouch above his head and advanced carefully—“and she says you are welcome to it, if you allow her the blessing of her health.”

“The sooner she steps out and takes her place with the rest,” Blythe muttered through chattering teeth, “the sooner she can be on her way.”

Mosca advanced by Clent’s side, and was paid no more attention than if she had been a hedge sparrow.

“I think you speak not as you mean. I have heard many stories of Captain Blythe, but nothing that would lead me to believe that he would let a defenseless flower of a girl suffer a lingering death amid agues and delirium. Those words were spoken by the bitter rain, by the holes in your boots, and by the bigger hole inside your belly—not by Captain Blythe. The man before me is too tall for such words.”

Looking into Blythe’s face, Mosca suspected that he had never heard himself called a “captain” before. She thought this might be because Clent had conferred the title himself.

“May I speak quite freely?”

“If you can speak both freely and briefly,” was the highwayman’s curt response.

“I thank you.” Clent advanced closer. “I could not trust myself to hold my tongue while I could see you throwing away such an opportunity. What could you hope to gain by dragging that poor suffering girl out into the rain and cutting the buttons off her gown? Perhaps your men hope to cut off her hair as well and sell it to a wigmaker, and leave her quite shorn and cold?”

“What do I stand to lose?”

“Ah!” Clent raised his forefinger significantly before his nose. “I am very glad that you asked me that. You stand to lose something of great value, something which I am in a position to offer you. But first I must ask you a question. How often have you had your boots cobbled?”

“What?” The young highwayman was obviously now utterly perplexed. His red-rimmed eyes flitted this way and that as if he were glancing between the unanswered first question and the perplexing second.