"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. CHAPTER VIII BEARDING THE LION To Maurice Malherb it seemed that he was living his life over again. Upon the second disappearance of his daughter, the old turmoil recurred; but less fury marked his manners and more method. Grace had gone for a long tramp over the Moor, and had never returned home. She set out after her mid-day meal and was no more seen. Neither had any man nor woman heard of her. Tom Putt, indeed, remembered the letter that he had conveyed to her through Mr. Cloberry; but he also knew this missive came from John Lee. Therefore he felt no alarm, but doubted not that John was working with Cecil Stark, and that Grace was safe. When the catastrophe at Prince Town became known and it transpired that not a few besides Stark were reported missing, the Americans declared their compatriots were fallen in the struggle and had been hastily buried by night, that the numbers of the slain might not challenge too much attention; but the history of the time may be relied upon in this matter, and it is safe to assume that those unaccounted for upon that unhappy night escaped in the subsequent confusion, even as Cecil Stark had done. So, at least, concluded Maurice Malherb; and, awake to the significance of the incident in connection with his daughter's disappearance, he was first minded to yield and let her have her way; but then he came back to himself, and fury awoke him, and he sought Peter Norcot, that the wool-stapler might assist him to recover his daughter. Malherb rode over the Moor to Chagford upon the morning after the tragedy at Prince Town; and on his way he reflected concerning his own peculiar position.