when thomas putt reached widecombe church on the morning of the wedding, he found the company from chagford had already arrived. peter norcot's bottle-green coat, gilt buttons, and noble shirt frill, presented an imposing and attractive appearance; his sister gertrude was attired in lace and silk of a faded lavender hue; his man mason wore a mighty bouquet of flowers on his new livery. last of this party was the bridegroom's cousin from exeter—a young clerk in orders, one relton norcot, whose flat and somewhat vacant countenance grew pale as he heard the news. he feared the issue and expected an explosion, but his knowledge of mr. norcot was small.

when putt announced that grace malherb had vanished in the night, peter's eyes contracted a little; he rose from his seat, thrust his hands deep in his breeches pockets, and began to pace up and down in front of the altar rails, regardless of the whispering crowd in the church. his reverend cousin drew him to the vestry; then the disappointed lover spoke.

"i'm very little surprised. we must act with the utmost promptitude. she's not done this thing single-handed. i'll wager that groom john lee's in this, and, like enough, stark, too. he is the rascal for whom she suffered imprisonment."

peter next turned to putt.

"tell us all you know," he said.

"only that the window was open, your honour," answered tom, who secretly prided himself on the entire conduct of the affair. "'twas by the window miss grace went out. her left a letter for her mother. they do say—mrs. beer i mean—that her wrote her'd rather die a thousand deaths than have you, begging your honour's pardon for mentioning it. she said as she was going to be in trusty hands also."

peter nodded, while the young clergyman with the fatuous face began to get out of his surplice.

"she must have been very badly brought up," he remarked, and norcot stared at his cousin; but his mind was on the matter in hand.

"i shall proceed instantly to dartmouth," he said. "tell mason to saddle my horse and his own. either from dartmouth or tor quay they will endeavour to leave the country. mark me, that man stark has broke prison again. is mr. malherb in communication with prince town?"

"not that i knows about," answered putt. "master be like a bull of bashan—to say it with all respect. he've made fox tor farm shake to its roots. he's lamed two horses a'ready afore i started, an' he's been tearing over the moor since dawn, like the wild hunter. he 'pears to think he's been hardly treated by providence; an' he's called down fire from heaven, by all accounts, on pretty near everybody as lives on dartymoor. a proper tantara, i warn 'e! god knows how 'twill end. he roareth against all things but hisself."

"'tis a shattering stroke," wept miss norcot, "and you are a marvel, peter, to bear it with such composure."

"tut, tut! get you home, you and relton here. the marriage is postponed. see her home, relton, and bide my coming. i may not be back for a day or two, but don't return to exeter until you hear from me."

then he again addressed putt.

"ride back at once and direct your master to set a sharp watch about holne. they are lying close to-day; but they will doubtless try for the coast at nightfall. first ascertain if mr. stark has escaped again from the war prison; next do all in your power to capture the person of that groom. i've a hundred pounds for the man who takes john lee and keeps him fast. now be off; and let them know that i will be at fox tor farm by midnight or later."

his horse was waiting for him, and quite indifferent to the crowd that had assembled round it, peter mounted, bade the children get out of his way, and galloped off with his man after him. the disappointed bridegroom purposed to inform the authorities and place patrols above dartmouth, both upon the roads and river.

as for tom putt, he rode home; while miss norcot and the clergyman returned to chagford.

at fox tor farm, as the day wore on, wild turmoil reigned, and the flock-master in fury was urging his exhausted labourers to further efforts. every spot for miles around about was searched; the industrious mark bickford even tramped over cater's beam and through hangman's hollow; but grace malherb, securely hidden in lovey's treasure-house, was beyond reach of discovery. john lee had laid his plans with care, and knowing that his grandmother would stop at prince town until the completion of the tunnel and the liberation of the americans, he selected her secret hiding-place for grace. here, until lovey's next visit, she was safe; but the miser would soon herself be flying hither with her reward; and before that moment grace must be gone.

"when she does come," said lee on the night of the rescue, "she'll bring some fat money-bags with her; and she'll have to lie low henceforth, for if they catch her——"

"and there's danger for you too?"

"none to name," he answered. "my fear is only for your health—that you may suffer in this dismal pit. it is damp. but here's a snug cubby-hole i've found—dry as a bone—and i've filled it with sweet dead fern and heath. the water that trickles yonder is pure. and upon that shelf, beside the money-bags, you'll find bread and bacon and a jug of cider. 'twas all i could furnish yesterday, but i'll come back to-night with better fare. here's a few candles too, and a flint and steel. and—and he'd be here now if he could—master stark—you know that right well; but he's got a great weight on his shoulders—five thousand fellow-men to answer for; and he knows you're safe while i draw breath."

"i can't thank you. each word you say stabs me and makes me ashamed to live."

"sleep—sleep soft and safe; and dream of him. 'tis not going to be long before he comes to you; but it won't be here. to-morrow i see him; to-morrow night i'll return again. don't fear for him. think of the light he's got to show him his road! you're safe as sanctuary here. and remember, if time hangs heavy, that you may be within touching distance of the amphora."

she shook her head sadly.

"father will never forgive me now. i have done a deed unpardonable. he cannot understand that i love him with all my heart, and yet deem my poor, wretched body a sacred thing—beyond his right to dispose of as he pleases. i only pray this will not drive him to distraction."

the man left her, and during that day had speech with cecil stark at the war prison, as we have noted. he worked also for several hours beside james knapps, and then, towards midnight, returned to grace. so silently did he descend into her hiding-place that he did not waken her. she slept snug in the russet sweetness of last year's bracken, and the candle by her side made a play of great black shadows broken by the glow of the fern. her young shape was sunk in this soft resting-place, and her lips shone very red in the candle-light. they held his eyes, since her own eyes—those lovely lamps that generally attracted a beholder—were hidden. long he watched her peaceful breathing, and stood fired to his heart, unwilling to rouse her. once she half awoke, and moved and lifted her head; then she cuddled into the fern, sighed softly and slept again.

presently he called her in gentle tones, and she sat up, still dreaming; then came to her senses and remembered.

"great news," he said. "first, here's some fresh wheaten cake and some butter and three hard-boiled eggs. next, you must know that the tunnel is just finished. we were nearer by five or six yards than we thought. to-day we heard them knocking."

"how is it with my mother and father?"

"i have seen putt within the last two hours. he stole out to fox tor and met me as i came. your mother keeps calm, for she knows that you are safe; but mr. malherb is like one possessed."

"alas, i can see him and hear him as though i was by."

"men fear to come to him. there is a settled battle in him against every human soul. yet a strange thing happened: at a lonely cot yesterday, where he called to learn if they had heard of you, a little girl stood by the door; and he looked at her, then suddenly caught her up and kissed her before he got on his horse again. the child was not feared at his fierceness neither, but laughed into his bloodshot eyes. the mother told tom putt."

"oh, why was i your daughter?"

"norcot went straight from widecombe to dartmouth, so putt also tells. a deep man—how he hit the critical point—how he knew what was in our heads! he'll have watchers on all the beatable waters, and to-morrow he'll set to work to hunt himself."

"if he should find me, john!"

"then i'll forgive him. now farewell for a while. i shall see you again to-morrow night."

they parted, and grace read the letter that john had brought her. stark was deeply concerned at her escape; but he wrote not one word of love in this missive. she missed that word, yet knew well how much he had upon his hands and how that this was no time for softness.

and lee, returning over the moor, heard a horse's hoofs behind. he had scarcely dived into some old tin-streamer's workings and flung himself flat behind a furze-bush, when peter norcot went by in the dim tremor of dawn. so close was he that john saw his eyes were half shut, and that he nodded and nearly slept in his saddle. light had broken eastward, and already the small life of the moor stirred amid glimmering grass-blades.

norcot jogged onward to fox tor farm, and lee, wondering whether the lover or himself had worked harder during the past day and night, got back to his grandmother's cottage at prince town.

great bustle marked the farm when peter reached it. mrs. malherb, haggard and careworn, greeted him where sleepy-eyed men and women were collected in the servants' hall. for a moment there was respite, because malherb had already risen and ridden away. norcot followed his kinswoman to her parlour, then sank into a chair and began to drag off his top-boots.

"any news, annabel? i see from your face that there is none. this mad business of keeping her chained up! it was bound to end thus."

"maurice has started again—this time to prince town. oh, peter—his reason—i fear terribly for it! no human creature could endure what he has endured and keep sane. i assure him that she is safe on her own showing. i have it under her hand and seal. but he will not believe me or her. he is like the sea breaking on rocks—he never tires. after midnight he leapt up and was soon in the saddle again. he has gone to the war prison now."

"he should have gone there first. many hours have been lost."

"he will make trouble with commandant short, for he is in no mood to be denied."

"what news had he of stark's escape?"

"we did not so much as know that the young man was escaped."

"i feel little doubt of it. however, he'll hardly clear dartmouth, or tor quay either. grace, grace! poor child—how true—hesiod—earth and chaos are the parents of love. now i must lift myself out of this chair again! fifteen hours in the saddle—three horses. do for pity's sake get me a bumper of strong drink, annabel. and my wedding breeches—worn out. only just now off to the war prison! tut, tut! his rage has made him blind."

"he has been brave as a lion and done ten men's work."

"ten fools' work, you mean. 'when valour preys on reason, it eats the sword it fights with.'"

"i fear, indeed, for his reason, and for his precious neck. he is worn out in mind and body, and ought to be in bed instead of on horseback."

"so ought i. send the drink to my usual room, my dear. and bid them call me in three hours. make 'em wake me whether i will or not in three hours' time."

"if my maurice would but listen to sense!"

"men don't change the habits of a lifetime at fifty. what does cicero say? 'utatur motu animi——' i'm too sleepy to talk english, let alone latin. 'he only uses passion who cannot use reason.' a very unreasonable man is malherb."

"you shall not criticise him at such a pass, peter. none shall. this wicked girl may cost him his life—you and she between you. no man ever led a more honourable and single-hearted existence. he is always trying to do right."

"yes, i know all that. a man trying to do right is only interesting as long as he fails. malherb has never yet ceased to interest me."

"go sleep, cousin. you are saying things you would not say in your proper senses."

he rose with a groan and hobbled painfully to the door.

"death and fury! i'm an old man myself this morning; gone in the hams and gone in the head! how i ache! but wait until to-morrow. 'when greeks joined greeks, then was the tug of war.' we'll catch my gipsy to-morrow. don't forget the beverage, annabel. half a pint of champagne and a little drop of brandy in it. a drink for heroes. and a hero i am, if ever there was one."