Ben knew he wished to go--Rita was at Torwood--it was not the horses so much, although they were an attraction. "Yes," said Ben promptly, and the matter was settled. They went ashore. Dick Langford's dog-cart was at the Queen's and thither they adjourned. In a quarter of an hour they were going at an easy pace to Torwood, which lay about midway between Torquay and Newton Abbot. How fresh everything looked! The trees were just budding, tingeing the almost bare branches with tips of green. The air was cool and soft; there were no motors about--only an odd one or two, the tourist season had not commenced--but there would be plenty of people at the races on the following days. "Wonder what that fellow's up to!" exclaimed Dick, as he saw a man push through the hedge and disappear down the hill and across the meadow. "Probably belongs to the place," said Picton. "Then what the deuce did he get through the hedge for? Why didn't he go to the gate?" said Dick. "Short cut, perhaps," said Picton. "Wonder if he's that chap from Dartmoor?" laughed Dick, and he felt Picton start. "The man's got on your nerves," he said. "I'll say no more about him." Picton was looking at him as he went rapidly across the meadow; something about the figure appeared familiar, so did the long stride; he wondered if Ben noticed it, but the Captain was otherwise occupied. The incident was forgotten, and when they came in sight of Torwood, Picton became animated. He saw a figure on the lawn, and knew who it was. She recognized them and waved her handkerchief. This met with a quick response. Torwood was a typical Devonshire home, not large, but a commodious, comfortable, well-appointed house, standing on the hillside; trees at the back, a terrace, then a level stretch of lawn, then a sweep down to the road; a small lodge and gate at the drive entrance; a steep incline to the house. On the right were the stables, half a dozen loose boxes, and a three-stall building. Dick Langford was far from being a rich man, but he was happy and contented, with his sister. He was a partner in a firm of auctioneers at Newton Abbot, and was accounted a ready salesman; there was always laughter in front when he wielded the hammer; quick at repartee, there were many people prompt to draw him out, but he got his prices, and that paid the firm and the customers. Rita Langford was like her brother, of a bright and cheerful disposition, was popular in the neighborhood, and Torwood was a favorite house. "So glad to see you, Mr. Woodridge, and you too, Captain Bruce. When did you arrive in the bay?" "In the morning, yesterday; it was beautiful. How grand the country looks, and Torwood even prettier than ever!" said Picton. "I induced him to leave his floating palace, and visit our humble abode, by asking him to inspect the horses he is to ride," said Dick with a wink at Ben. "That is so, but there was a far greater inducement," said Picton, looking at Rita.