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."