To move her household goods from the hut by Siward\'s Cross was no great matter for Lovey Lee. A donkey carried all and found the burden light. The things about which her life\'s interest centred were buried deep in Hangman\'s Hollow, and her only hesitation, when the great enterprise at the War Prison was broken to her, arose out of the knowledge that she must now abide three miles further from her treasure-house. To this fact, however, the old woman grew reconciled, when she considered the nature of the promised reward. She settled down beneath the Prison walls; and now not the least of her grievances was the enormous appetite of Mr. James Knapps. He worked exceedingly hard and insisted upon having wholesome food and plenty of it.

"We\'re not all built like you, ma\'am, ter do our stint of work on ditch-water and shell-snails," he explained. "Victuals and drink I\'ll have; else I must grumble ter them over the wall. I can\'t dig my best on offal."

There fell a morning when John Lee visited his grandmother, and she saw by his face that a climax had come in his fortunes. He was gloomy and sad, yet of his own affairs he said nothing until Lovey mentioned them.

"I\'m on a private errand," he said, "and since \'tis too early yet to see the prisoners, I thought I\'d drop in and learn how you\'re faring."

She suspected that he was sent to spy by his master.

"I keep body and soul together, an\' that\'s all I ever shall do," she answered, little thinking that John Lee had counted her guineas but a few weeks before. "Even so I have to thank they Yankees to the Prison."

He marvelled at her cunning.

"Do you hear anything of that fine gentleman, Master Cecil Stark?" he inquired.

"Ah, you was all in love with him to Fox Farm, I hear. I wish there was more like him."

John did not answer, and his grandmother jeered.

"I see how \'tis! Your nose be out of joint. What did I tell you, Jack? Broken hearts—broken fiddlesticks! Ban\'t the wench\'s heart as have broke, anyhow. So her throwed you over for a properer man?"

"No, by God! But——"

"You\'m minded to let her off her bargain? Then the bigger fool you!"

She hit the truth in her brutal fashion. Lee had not trusted himself to pursue the matter of his attachment; yet, as time progressed, he saw more clearly what Grace strove with might and main to conceal. The accesses of her affection, the thousand little kindly thoughts for him—all wrote truth in letters of fire upon his aching heart. True love had acted differently—had claimed as well as given; and he knew, despite her assurance oftentimes repeated, that her attitude was founded on another impulse. Now, after grief and pain, his thoughts moved slowly to Cecil Stark. In turn he was attracted by and repulsed from the prospect of speech with the young prisoner. Finally he braced himself to the ordeal; yet he knew not what he would say when they stood face to face. He felt as a man in a dream at this period. A most unreal and monstrous task lay before him. Deliberately he was turning his back upon all that made life precious; consciously he was hastening out of day into eternal night. He chafed against the noble impulse that drove him onward; for a season he resisted it; then Grace Malherb\'s own steadfast purposes warmed his inspiration. Her delicacy, her gentleness, her courage cried to him. Must he prove less brave and more selfish than she?

It was indeed sheer suffering that supported the girl now; but her strength rose superior to it, and only one who knew and loved her as this man knew and loved, had guessed at the things hidden in her heart. The torture simulated Grace to a surface brilliance, as a bird will sing out of pure misery in sight of his robbed nest. Her eyes were ever bright, but unshed tears made them so; her plots and plans were ceaseless and sanguine; but he knew that she rushed into them to escape from her heart. Love, indeed, had found her at last, but she struggled fiercely to shut him out since he had come too late. She never wearied of plans concerning the Malherb amphora, and of the future for John Lee when he should discover it. And he humoured her and himself a little longer, so that she scarcely realised that he had grasped the truth, despite his first sure guess thereat.

Now the story was told. He had wandered through the last autumnal glade of his fool\'s paradise; he had witnessed the red sunset of his dying romance; and he stood patient and strong under the cold starlight at the end.

John Lee was come to speak with Stark, for at certain times in the War Prison visitors were permitted to enter and have conversation or transact business with the captives. A tall grille of iron alone separated them, but to this grating all men might approach on certain days and traffic with the imprisoned for those trifles which they wrought and sold to any purchaser. Work-boxes, dinner mats, hand-screens, bone toys and ornaments they manufactured; and many persons came from Plymouth and other towns to see the spectacle of the great moorland limbo and carry from it some memento of the sufferers there. Nefarious and doubtful trades were also practised in the secret fastnesses of this gaol. Exceeding good imitations of the eighteenpenny and three-shilling pieces then current passed into the world from Prince Town, and forged bank notes also circulated. Venal soldiery helped the prisoners in the business of uttering base money; but such simple and honest trash as passed to the visitors between the bars of the grille, was openly sold.

Hither from his grandmother\'s cottage came Lee, and soon he noted the tall form of Stark standing with Burnham and Ira Anson. They had nothing to sell, but watched the visitors with interest. Then Cecil caught sight of John Lee, hastened to the barrier and shook hands heartily through the bars.

"Well met, well met," he said. "I\'m right glad to see you, Jack. Would that I could give you such a welcome as your master gave to me!"

"I hope you are well and strong again, Mr. Stark."

"Well enough——"

The American looked at Lee with intense scrutiny and wondered how much or little he might know concerning the affairs of his mistress.

"All are happy at Fox Tor Farm, I trust?"

"Well enough," answered the other, as Stark had answered him.

"That means not absolutely well," replied Cecil quickly. "Miss Malherb—all at least is well with her? Yet—Mr. Norcot. \'Tis intolerable, you know, Jack Lee, that I should speak of that man except to bless him for his goodness. Nevertheless—Miss Malherb—but this is none of your business I doubt?"

"It won\'t be much longer; for the present it is," said John. "I know she hates Mr. Peter Norcot. She\'s bound to hate him in self-defence. But, nevertheless, \'tis intended she shall marry him within six months."

"Yet there\'s a man she—she loves. It\'s too terrible! She suffers—she must suffer horribly. And this other—why doesn\'t he come forward and sweep Norcot out of her path? What clay is this creature made of that he holds back?"

"The man?"

"Do you know him?"

"I do."

"Then tell him from me—but what\'s the use of bellowing like a pent-up bull? Can\'t you, at least, assure him from yourself that he must be up and doing? You\'re in your lady\'s good graces—therefore justify her trust. Seek this laggard and explain how the land lies. Maybe \'tis her tyrant father he fears."

"The man knows everything. He can\'t help her."

"Cannot! What\'s the matter with him? Has he no arms, nor legs, nor courage? Is he made of gingerbread? Oh, if I—— But perhaps I speak ignorant of facts. Maybe he\'s chained fast, too."

"Yes, he\'s fast enough."

"Then \'tis your duty to do what a man may, Jack. You, at least, are free as well as faithful; and in love with Miss Malherb also, I\'ll wager. You must love her if you\'re a man."

"I do love her."

"And can see her and speak to her every day of your blessed life! Oh, if I might but help you; if I might come between her and trouble——"

He b............