immediately without the war prison stood a ruined cot, and, distant some few hundred yards to the north-east beneath it, a river ran. this stream, named blackabrook, was crossed by a pack-horse road that passed over ockery bridge; and here, one hundred years ago, in place of the existing cottage, there stood a neat little dwelling-house. verandahs extended round it; the walls were of granite, and the roof of reeds. upon one side a view of prince town spread, while southward its windows commanded the valley of the river.
here dwelt captain cottrell, commandant of the prison settlement; and now, together with a handsome, genial man clad in black, he shall be seen sitting under his verandah and drinking port wine after midday dinner. the captain's visitor was of a kindly countenance and pleasant voice.
"so much for that, then, mr. norcot. you'll send to us from your mills at chagford such quantities of flocks as government shall determine for the new mattresses."
"exactly. i'm always gratified to oblige the government."
"we can make them here—the mattresses, i mean. we have a little world of skilled artificers within our walls. you see, holland is in league with napoleon, and many of our captives taken out of dutch vessels are eurasians, malays and chinese from the service of the dutch east india company. the world has sent us representatives of every civilised race, and among them are craftsmen from each trade that man practises."
peter norcot nodded.
"'all sorts and conditions of men.' do you recollect what shenstone says?
"'let the gull'd fool the toils of war pursue,
where bleed the many to enrich the few.'
you shall have your flocks and a good article. since my lamented senior partner's death i have been busy in certain directions. uncle norman norcot was a conscientious and a conservative soul, and he regarded the new labour-saving contrivances with the utmost suspicion. how he hated 'em! but amongst such things there is a remarkable new flock-cutter. these matters, however, will not interest you."
the captain emptied his glass and rose.
"i'll take your word for all that. now come along. you desire a glimpse of our caged beasts and the prison?"
"even so—delighted to exchange my flocks for your herds."
an orderly brought round their horses and in five minutes peter departed with captain cottrell.
"now enter the bear garden, mr. norcot, and do not fear the growling. for reasons not known to me, my beasts have a hearty hatred of their head keeper."
it was true, and norcot observed that his guide won little but scowls and indifference upon his way through the prisons. occasionally an officer among the captives would salute him; as a rule the prisoners turned their backs.
"a strange and many-coloured assembly—of rags," commented norcot. "'spectatum admissi risum tenatis amici?' but really to the man of sentiment 'tis a matter for tears rather than laughter. i observe you are unpopular, commandant."
"the fate of most men who do their duty, sir."
"how true!"
"not one fool amongst them has the wit to guess at my onerous labours," continued cottrell. "old general rochambeau, who is living on parole with me at ockery bridge, will scarcely exchange a civil word, and prefers to eat his meals in the seclusion of his chamber. he is for ever abusing 'les mirmidons de transport service'; and yet the ancient ass makes me laugh sometimes. he received letters recently, and one of them told him that napoleon would land in england on the twenty-third of july last. upon that day he appeared in full dress, booted and spurred, with all his orders on—ready to welcome boney should he honour dartmoor with a visit."
"he may come here yet—to stop."
"i hope so. be very sure no parole will ever be granted to one who has so often broke his oath."
they had now entered prison no. 4.
"here are my black sheep," said captain cottrell. "one yankee is more trouble than twenty frenchmen. never satisfied. there are exceptional men amongst them—representatives of the old american gentry; but the greater number are the very rubbish and offscourings of the sea, swept here by our men-o'-war. i believe that near half of them are englishmen from the privateers. they get high bounties for that work; but they are a reckless and dangerous company. these men set the hulks on fire at plymouth."
"made the ships too hot to hold 'em? but they are safe enough here. tut, tut! dartmoor would tame the devil himself, once he was on a chain."
the yellow-coated prisoners wandered about, and some exchanged private jests as cottrell passed, and some fell into silence until he was out of earshot. then a very tall, finely built man, drew himself up and saluted the reigning power.
"you see there is a gentleman now and then to be found among them."
"and that particular gentleman i have good cause to know," answered norcot. "may i exchange compliments with him? 'twas he who, in a moment of undue haste, broke my head."
cecil stark found himself summoned, and mr. norcot told the commandant of their meeting at the church.
"then, like a lion, he felled me with his paw. i hope no fist will ever hit me so hard again."
"he is prominent among them, and his influence is all for good," said the commandant carelessly in stark's hearing.
"and a sailor; and doubtless good-hearted, like all sailors. well, mr. stark, your servant, sir."
cecil stark recognised the wool-stapler immediately, and shook the hand extended to him.
"i hope i see you well, sir," he said, "and none the worse for my stupidity."
"in excellent health, i thank you. my nose, as you see, stands where it did. yet i am much reduced from my usual level humour by this sight."
"a dreary spectacle enough."
"you are probably unfamiliar with cowper? it is your loss.
"'war's a game which, were their subjects wise,
kings should not play at."
neither kings nor yet congresses. perhaps, had you read cowper, you would have stopped at home, mr. stark?"
"it takes two to fight, mr. norcot. my kinsman, general stark—but i'll not prate of that, though this i'll say: 'tis a base and a cowardly deed to deny parole to commodore miller and his officers. we handled the frigate marblehead like honest men; and we had fairly beaten your thunderbolt. she was about to strike when the flying fish and the squirrel hove in sight and bore down. then she fought on. we ourselves had hardly struck to them before the thunderbolt sank. these things i learned from the prize crew that brought the marblehead into falmouth."
"i understand that there were technical reasons why parole was denied to the officers of the marblehead," explained captain cottrell.
"you may understand, sir," retorted stark, "but none among us was ever made to do so."
norcot nodded thoughtfully. true to his invariable custom, he set himself the task of making a friend.
"you get supplies regularly?" he asked.
"he does—and shares 'em with the poorer folks," said cottrell. "he has great wealth, i believe," he added under his breath.
"you want parole, naturally—like any other officer and gentleman. why not?
"'rash, fruitless war, from wanton glory waged,
is only splendid murder,'
as thomson very truly remarks. yet even war has its laws."
"most certainly. and commodore miller and his officers possess a right to parole. miller is one of the ablest men in the navy of the united states," declared the young sailor.
"ah—possibly that's where the difficulty lies. however, though i cannot pretend to any considerable interest, yet some i have with one or two very distinguished gentlemen of the british east india company. it has been my privilege to do them a service. maybe peter norcot will prove the mouse to nibble you lions out of your granite cage. who can tell? you have my word of honour that i will endeavour to better your lot."
at friendship so gratuitous, cecil stark found himself much moved. he hurried forward and shook peter very warmly by the hand.
"thank you, thank you with all my heart and soul; and thank god for sending you," he said. "'tis not only for myself i speak, but for better men. miller is not young, and this terrible place is making him old and infirm before his time."
"well, i'll see; and recollect that i'm doing good for evil. my mistress owes you little thanks, mr. stark, and i still less. but all's well that ends in christian charity."
"are you going to marry that lovely young lady?" asked stark.
"that is my happy privilege. what is your fate to mine? you suffer until the end of the war—perhaps not so long. but i—mistress grace malherb has transported me for life! tut, tut! you do not see the jest? how dense a sailor can be! well, god be with you, mr. stark. may you dance at her wedding."
"'twould be a glorious experience, mr. norcot. i hope your fortune will prove worthy of you. may your life be a happy and a blessed thing, for you are a noble man," said the youngster earnestly.
"i will not contradict a gentleman," said peter. then he bowed and went upon his way, to be rated and laughed at by captain cottrell for conduct the commandant held most quixotic.
with great good temper, mr. norcot explained his theory of life, and denied that any human action was innocent of an ulterior motive. then, having seen the prison, he rode on. but home he did not go. his goal was fox tor farm, and he designed to spend a couple of days there before returning to chagford.
much had happened to him since his last visit, and his position in the wool factory was now supreme. the senior partner—an elderly man and peter's uncle—had fallen upon evil times in his home. finally, mr. norman norcot's young wife ran away with a neighbouring squire; whereupon the unfortunate husband descended into gloom and darkness, and life grew a weariness to him. at last he relinquished the burden, and, going upon the moor to shoot game, he destroyed himself—an action that placed his nephew at the head of the famous business.
now, conscious of these new dignities, peter proceeded towards cater's beam, and as he went he committed young stark's statement to memory.
"marblehead fought and defeated thunderbolt. latter vessel about to strike to the american when his majesty's ships squirrel and flying fish appeared. marblehead taken. parole denied to her officers. why? cecil stark—related to general stark, conqueror of our general burgoyne. yet the pen is mightier than the sword, as burgoyne knew. commodore miller, noteworthy american sailor."
in his mind norcot was already dictating a letter to certain friends who possessed interest at the highest quarters, when he passed siward's cross. then, lifting his eyes, he saw lovey lee at work in a peat-cutting close at hand, and approached her with a desire to be better acquainted.
"well met, mother. a drink of milk for a thirsty man, i pray you."
lovey put down the glittering peat knife with which she toiled, and rose to her full height.
"so 'tis! the gentleman as i seed with grace malherb?"
"the same. i hope i see you well."
mrs. lee did not answer, but started to fetch the milk, and peter followed her. presently she produced a teacup and handed it to him.
"i thank you. and here's a shilling; but you must let me have some change—sixpence at least." this he said to try her.
bitterly disappointed, lovey returned to her den, and while she was absent, mr. norcot, who had not drunk milk since he was a baby, emptied his teacup into the heather. he was apparently smacking his lips when the old woman reappeared.
"i've no change but these dirty coppers from the prisoners to prince town. the hands that held 'em last was shaking with smallpox, but of course you won't mind," she said.
"tut, tut! keep them, keep them, my dear woman. i only jested. so you traffic in the prison markets with the french?"
"no—the yankees. i understand their speech, and they've got more money," said lovey, stroking the coppers.
"ah!—'tis an ill wind that blows good to nobody. so you begin to get money, my poor soul? but be very careful, i beg of you.
"'for satan now is wiser than of yore,
and tempts by making rich, not making poor,'"
"rich! great riches mine! look around."
"for my part i pray daily that these ghastly wars will soon be over," said peter.
"that's where we be of different minds, then," she answered.
"different minds and different interests, mrs. lee. well, i'm glad to see you again. it may happen some day that you can do me a service, or i can do you one."
"i see—with that maiden?"
her eyes glittered, and she pointed down the valley to fox tor farm.
"good gracious! no," said peter, astonished that she had guessed so near his thoughts. "the days of witchcraft and love-potions are past, ma'am. not that i want anything of that sort. grace malherb adores me."
she looked at him with curiosity.
"my grandson be her groom now," she said; but did not add that john lee had confided to her the girl's dislike for peter.
"it is a wise and rare maiden who knows her own mind, mother. i may add that 'none but the brave deserves the fair,' as dryden so happily remarks. farewell."
lovey nodded, and he rode away.
"a strong, dangerous fashion of man," she thought with her eyes upon him. "an' wants my friendship for his own ends. well, my friendship is always open to the highest bidder, lord he knows. an' the maiden be going to take a bit of managing by the looks of it. john lee had more in his mind than he spoke, last time he comed to tell with me an' pay me half his wages."
meantime peter trotted forward, and presently he beheld the raw stone walls and broken lands of the farm. he shook his head at this display of much futile labour, then turned at the thud of galloping horses and saw his sweetheart and her groom approaching over the shaggy crest of the beam.
john lee dropped back quickly as mr. norcot stopped, but the wool-stapler had sharp eyes, and he made a mental note of what he saw.
"well met, my lovely lady!" he cried a few minutes later. "of all maidens who sat a steed none ever became one as you do!
"''tis well in stone to have three graces
with lovely limbs and lovely faces;
but better far, and not in stone,
to have the three combined in one.'
isn't that a pretty thing? i kept it to greet you with."
"not your own, i'll wager," said grace; "but never mind—don't come nearer, please; 'c?sar,' is fidgety. i hope that you are well, peter."
"your groom was near enough as you came over the hill, my treasure."
"yes, 'c?sar' knows him. we were talking about his grandmother."
"the horse's?"
peter turned and beckoned to lee; then, as john cantered up, mr. norcot regarded him critically.
"what a picture! i never saw such a wonderfully handsome lad—an apollo's face. 'disguised like a ploughman, love stole from the sky'—eh, grace?"
the heart of miss malherb beat fiercely, but in secret.
"he's no ploughman," she answered.
"i'm jealous," continued peter. "tut, tut! i feel the green-eyed monster's fiery breath scorching my liver!" then he spoke to the groom, who now approached. "give you good day, lad. and, john lee, dost know that mr. bolitho of ivybridge is seeking an underwhip for his pack of hounds? say the word, and i'll commend you."
john's eyes flashed; he smiled and touched his hat.
"thank you very kindly, sir—very kindly indeed; but i'm well suited in mr. malherb's service."
"you mean in miss malherb's, you lucky dog!" said the man of business. then he winked genially, while lee, reddening under his clear brown skin, galloped forward to open a gate that led into the outlying lands of the farm.
