fate, ordering that the war prison should be for ever remembered in the annals of prince town, now crowned all horrors of the past with a supreme catastrophe before those gloomy haunts of sorrow were deserted and echo reigned alone in their courts and corridors. an accident fostered the turbulent spirit that still animated these great companies, and daily infected the minds of new subjects, even as smallpox gained power over their bodies. mr. blazey thought it best to take no notice of the insult to which he had been subjected, and soon after the event wrote to his fellow-citizens in an amicable spirit. he explained that to grant passports must not be expected save by those who had friends and connections in england. for the rest, he assured the prisoners that all possible despatch marked the preparation of the cartel ships. "you are much wanted in the united states," he wrote, "and the encouragement for seamen there is very great."

the message soothed not a few impatient hearts, and many of the wiser sailors used it to good purpose in allaying the prevalent bitterness and disorder. but close upon it fell out an unfortunate occurrence for which the prison contractors were responsible. during a whole day the prisoners remained short of bread, and they were called upon to subsist as best they might on four and a half ounces of beef to each man. captain short was away at the critical moment upon business in plymouth, and his subordinates refused to oblige the hungry hordes. a pound and a half of soft bread by right belonged to every prisoner, but the contractor's clerk lost his presence of mind and refused to serve rations of any sort until the return of the commandant.

this accident was enough for william burnham's hot-headed faction. a bread riot became imminent, and the prisoners threatened to force the prisons and break open the store-house. panic and terror swept through prince town; chaos fell upon the gaol, and from all the surrounding neighbourhood the women and children fled into the villages, for it was reported that the prisoners were about to break loose and pour, like an angry sea, over the countryside. many, indeed, escaped before captain short returned with a reinforcement of two hundred soldiers from plymouth; but in the meanwhile fresh supplies of bread had reached the prison, and the bulk of the americans, having no desire to brave the unknown while liberty promised to be but a thing of days, remained quiet and orderly. their numbers acted as a weight to render the more daring inert; the disturbance passed and the commandant expressed a frank and courteous regret for the occasion of the trouble.

yet alarm did not subside so quickly without the prison walls. rumours daily gained ground that the americans contemplated a desperate deed, and captain short began to credit these reports. his suspicions and the folly of those in his charge precipitated a conflict, and the innocent suffered for the guilty.

upon the 6th day of april, towards a peaceful spring twilight, a large body of men, under burnham's leadership, collected by twos and threes in one place. the numbers increased, and began ominously to swarm round about a great gate that led from the exercise yards to the marketplace. ordered by the turnkeys to disperse, they refused; implored by some of their friends to avoid risk of suspicion, burnham himself bade these peace-seekers go their way or join the party for freedom.

a subaltern, hearing the words, hastened to captain short.

"there's trouble brewing, sir. they're swarming like bees at no. 1 gate from the yard, and it's only secured against 'em with a chain. there's a breach, too, in the prison wall of no. 6. the guards are frightened, and the turnkeys won't face the prisoners. i fear that they only wait for darkness."

he came in an evil hour, because the commandant had already heard warnings of like character from one or two of the americans themselves. for their information they had received their liberty.

short started up.

"the dogs! will nothing satisfy 'em? must it come to bayonets? then, by god, it shall! i've done all living man can do to tame these chattering hyaenas. i've endured enough to make me stand self-condemned for a poltroon. more i'll not endure. they are not to be tamed by kindness. the whip, then!"

he raged and ordered that the alarm bells should be rung immediately.

a brazen clangour echoed and re-echoed through prince town; the walls of the prison flung it to the mountain-tops, and the great tors resounded it, until, sunk to a mellow murmur, the bells were heard afar off. upon their clash followed the rattle and hubbub of drums, for a tattoo broke out and beat the guard to quarters. no more unfortunate act could have marked the moment. thousands of prisoners, just then turning in to their evening meal, rushed back to the yards, and the group at the gate became a centre of theatrical attraction. upon one side of them advanced the commandant, his officers and the bulk of the garrison; on the other their inquisitive and excited compatriots began to crowd. the mass was augmented from the rear until it became a moving force, impelled forward and powerless to take action against itself. thus, when bayonets were lowered, the unfortunate van of this great movement found itself pushed remorselessly upon them.

captain short, taking sole command at the fatal moment, when his own self-command had vanished, drew up his force in position to charge. simultaneously a crash above the hubbub told that the great chain at the gate was broken, and a hundred voices were lifted to cheer mr. knapps, whose powerful arm, wielding a sledge, had done the deed. until now it is certain that any design of escaping had but actuated a handful of the prisoners. no concerted enterprise existed among them; but as the barrier fell and the gate yawned open, others, seeing the opportunity, crowded among burnham's faction, and prepared to break out under the eyes of their guardians. captain short understood nothing more than what he saw, and the immediate danger cooled his passion. but his hatred of this many-headed monster was not cooled. cries resounded, and behind the breaking gates the civil guards were flying. yet to the commandant's credit it may be recorded that he addressed the prisoners and called upon them to yield and fall back. only yells and laughter greeted him; while at the portals themselves an energetic handful were already forcing the great gates off their hinges.

thereon the commandant ordered fifteen file of the guard to this barrier, and with lowered bayonets the men advanced. many fell back; many were driven on with curses and sharp wounds; but the inert mass behind yielded slowly, while the phalanx in front refused to yield. they kept their ground and held the gate. they insulted the soldiers, and even dared short to fire upon them.

the first use of that awful word was in burnham's mouth. "we are free men!" he shouted; "and you have no jurisdiction upon us, and no right to lift these bars between us and liberty. you might as soon dare to fire upon us as order us to bide here. this night we take our liberty, since you abuse your trust and deny it to us in a country that is at peace with ours."

the mass who heard yelled and pressed forward; those who heard not answered the yell, and guessing nothing of the bayonets in front, fought to get there.

short answered burnham.

"before god, they shall fire if——"

but his troops, now maddened with anger, and sore buffeted by the foremost of the prisoners, heard the word "fire," and waited for no context.

a crash and a vibrating roar followed, and short's sentence was never spoken. into the waning light flashed the muskets, and with the billowy smoke there rolled aloft a shriek of fear and of agony where souls parted from life.

william burnham fell shot through the head, and several perished with him. about fifty men were wounded, and the great yard ran blood. many of the soldiers had fired reluctantly and discharged their weapons over the heads of the prisoners; but the cry of "blank cartridge!" lifted in the rear had no power to stay the awful panic that followed. a bellow went up from thousands of throats, and the masses of men fell back and poured like rivers into the gaols. it was then that certain knaves among the soldiery, themselves secure on the wall of the prison, opened a cross fire and slew not a few innocent men as they fled to safety. none was brought to justice for this damnable deed, because not one criminal could be discovered when the catastrophe was investigated.

chaos indescribable ruled that hour. short toiled like a madman to stay the mischief. he stood before his own men and yelled himself hoarse with execration and command. but the soldiers were out of hand. they had suffered much, and in their base minds the hour of vengeance was come.

at length non-commissioned officers succeeded where their superiors had failed. sergeant bradridge and others drew off the garrison, and doctor macgrath, with his orderlies and many recruits, hastened to the dead and dying. not a few had already perished; others were mortally wounded.

recognising cecil stark, the doctor approached where he knelt beside his old messmate; but a glance sufficed.

"that man is dead," he said, and hastened on to tend the living.

those few of this vast host with whom we have been concerned had all gathered here. knapps was down with a ball in his leg and a bayonet wound in the arm. mr. cuffee, uninjured, howled with sorrow beside one haywood, a black from virginia, who had perished. the air stank with the smells of blood and smoke. voices and cries rang in it; deep groans, like the bass of an organ, persisted beneath the high-pitched cries. as the doctors turned or moved a sufferer, some, restored to consciousness, shrieked till the walls rang out their exquisite grief; others sighed and died under the gentle hands now stretching out to succour them. captain short had withdrawn his men, and nearly all the americans were finally driven back to their respective prisons and locked in; but the commandant and his officers laboured among the wounded and toiled on under torchlight until the last fallen sufferer had been moved to the hospital or dead-house. seven ultimately deceased, and of those who recovered many lost a limb. the americans first responsible for the catastrophe nearly all suffered. they were standing beside burnham and received a point-blank fire.

after the prisoners had been removed, cecil stark, who worked with the english to aid them, prepared to return to his quarters when he found himself accosted by a man with a swarthy face and a black beard. many hebrew merchants from the surrounding towns swarmed about the prison with garments to sell to the prisoners at this season, and stark, supposing the man to be a jew who had entered with hundreds of others after the catastrophe, was turning from him, when the stranger spoke.

"a moment," he said. "'tis a terrible hour in which i'm come; but this ill wind will blow you good luck and perchance one who's more to you than yourself."

"john lee!"

"ay!—i've come, for there was none else that i dared to send. evil has fallen out to grace malherb. this time there must be nothing to keep you from her, or else the worst will happen. even as it is you may be too late."

"she sent your letter and i told her to fall in with any plan or warning that you might have for her."

"take this," said lee, producing a handful of something dark. "'tis a beard made of sheep's wool. wondering as i came how i should hide my face, i saw a black sheep. for once 'twas not a sign of ill-luck, but good. i cornered her, threw her, and cut from her back enough wool for the purpose. i browned my face by rubbing peat upon it. now i am a jew. don this quickly and follow the crowd that is now being thrust outside the walls. the rest you shall know as we go on our way."

stark adjusted the crisp wool about his chin, drew his hat over his eyes, fetched the cloak about him, and passed unchallenged out beside john lee. it seemed the most natural and simple matter thus to depart. the long months of suffering, the privations, plots, excitements and disappointments did not return to his mind for many a day. henceforth, one solitary thought informed him, and he hastened straightway forward into a trap more cunning than any made with granite.

lee explained what had happened as far as he knew it.

"to me she came two days ago in answer to my urgent message. i had heard that norcot meant to get her into his personal power at any cost, for he told my grandmother that he would do so. weary of evil, or pretending so, the old woman confessed to me, and i explained to grace malherb the threatened danger. she promised that she would not stir abroad again, and assured me that her father knew nothing. she could hardly stop for joy when she heard that lovey lee was alive; for it seems that mr. malherb, who struck her down upon cater's beam, believed that he had slain her."

"but of miss malherb?"

"she left me and has not since been seen. this i have heard to-day, for as my grandmother did not return, i grew fearful and last night got to fox tor farm. it was easy to lie in wait until i could speak with putt, for once more the place is disturbed and they seek high and low for miss grace."

"you saved her from norcot then, and some other ill has overtaken her?"

"i do not know. it may be that in ignorance i only worked for norcot. i cannot question my grandmother, since she is still absent from our hiding-place. therefore, there was no course but to come to you."

"norcot may have used you after all through your grandmother?"

"i can only fear it."

"then to him! i will not sleep until i have met that man."

"we are going there now. to-night you shall lie hid close to chagford, and to-morrow night—not sooner—you can tackle him. i've been to chagford, but i dared not go to him myself until i had been to you, for his answer would be to arrest me. you've got to show your quality now. if my grandmother is guilty of this, you'll find the cleverest man and the wickedest woman on dartmoor against you."

stark did not answer. his thoughts wandered backwards as it seemed.

"seven there were, and now—miller, burnham, carberry—all dead. and leverett in the hand of god, if still he lives. and jim knapps badly wounded. that leaves but poor cuffee and me."

"to-night you'd better lie in my den. if my grandmother has returned to it, you can tackle her; but indeed i fear you'll see her no more. norcot was to turn her gold and trinkets into paper money. then she meant to go to france."

"why wait till to-morrow? why not to-night?"

"i cannot get there, mr. stark. i've walked forty miles and more to-day. five yet lie before us, and that will settle me. food's been scarce, too, of late. i'm not in good fighting trim, i fear."

stark seized his hand.

"by god! you've done your share! but your troubles are near over. you come with me to vermont, or i'll not go. i've sworn to myself that you come. i don't leave this country without you."

"you are very generous and good."

they tramped over the night-hidden land in silence. twice lee had to stop and rest awhile. then he walked forward. before midnight they reached the ruined cot under sittaford tor. plenty of food was hidden there, and both ate heartily, drank from a rivulet at hand, and then slept side by side.

the place was empty, for lovey lee had not returned to it; but before dawn the old woman, like an aged tigress, came slinking back. upon entering the cot and striking a light, she saw not only her grandson, but the pale upturned face of cecil stark.

neither moved in their profound slumber; but the woman instantly extinguished her taper, and crept out of doors again.

"it's a hell of a tramp to take twice in one night," she thought. "yet 'tis good for another clear hundred, and norcot shan't hear it for less."

then she set her old bones creaking again upon the way to chagford.