"Good Lord! There was the faint resemblance, and they changed horses--it is horrible." Dane's eyes were very compassionate as he laid his hand gently on his leader's shoulder.
"Sir," he said, "you have our sympathy, and I am sorry that to offer it is all we can do.

Now, I think we have stayed too long already." They went out, and left Colonel Barrington sitting alone with a gray face at the head of the table.
It was a minute or two later when Winston swung himself into the saddle at the door of the Grange.

All the vehicles had not left as yet, and there was a little murmur of sympathy when the troopers closed in about him.

Still, before they rode away one of the men wheeled his horse aside, and Winston saw Maud Barrington standing bareheaded by his stirrup.

The moonlight showed that her face was impassive but curiously pale.
"We could not let you go without a word, and you will come back to us with your innocence made clear," she said.
Her voice had a little ring in it that carried far, and her companions heard her.