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 Copyright. Entered at Stationers' Hall 
 
 Dart/aoor 
 
 BY 
 
 MAURICE H. HERVEY 
 
 AUTHOR OF "DEAD MAN'S COURT," "ERIC THE ARCHER," ETC. 
 
 BRISTOL 
 J. W. Arrowsmith, II Quay Street 
 
 LONDON 
 SiMPKiN, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent and Co. Limited
 
 TRGOfsr 
 
 arrowsmitb's 3/6 Series 
 
 Vol. XXVI.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 AFTER THE BALL 
 
 • • • • 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 LADY CONYERS HAS HER SAY 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 GOODWOOD ..... 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 RAISING THE WIND 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 MRS. NESBITT AT HOME 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 *' PROBATION " . . . . 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 DARTMOOR 
 
 • • 
 
 • • 
 
 • • 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 AT NAPLES ....... 
 
 Page 
 5 
 
 17 
 
 33 
 
 43 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 BETRAYED 61 
 
 • • 
 
 77 
 
 89 
 
 105 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 DARRELL V. DYVER . . . . . .1x8 
 
 136
 
 iv Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Page 
 
 THE ESCAPE . ... . . . . 158 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 DENE HOLLOW ....... 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE WOLF 188 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE 204 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 THE MEASURE OF INIQUITY IS FILLED . . . 2X8 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 THE VENDETTA 24O 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 THE HON. BOB BESTIRS HIMSELF . . . 258 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 JUSTICE AT LAST 272 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 WHAT HAPPENED IN JERMVN STREET . . . 29O
 
 DARTAOOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AFTER THE BALL. 
 
 LADY FRAPPINGHAM'S dance was one of 
 the very last functions of note at the end of 
 a briUiant London season, and opinions were 
 unusually unanimous that it had been a marked 
 success. Most certainly Morley Griffin, aged twenty- 
 two, and a lieutenant in Her Majesty's Barsetshire 
 Regiment of Militia, had no doubt whatever on this 
 last point, for had not Ethel Conyers, whilst they 
 sat out a square dance in a quiet nook in the 
 conservatory, promised to be his wife ? 
 
 Even now, although he had but just received a 
 parting squeeze from her dainty little fingers, ere 
 her mother's carriage bore her away, he could 
 scarcely realise his great happiness. He had fancied,
 
 Dartmoor 
 
 hitherto, that Hugh Darrell was the favoured suitor. 
 And yet, although Darrell had danced with her that 
 night as often as he had, and had plainly been 
 making the most of his opportunities, she had 
 accepted him — Morley Griffin ! Well, he must pull 
 himself together and face the responsibilities in- 
 volved in this great good fortune ; he must steady 
 himself, and 
 
 " Come along, Morley, to my den," said a short, 
 sandy-haired, good-humoured-looking young fellow 
 at his elbow. " A quiet cigar and a final peg will 
 freshen us up after all this racket." 
 
 The Hon. Robert Dyver (known amongst his 
 intimates as *' Plunging Bob ") was the son of the 
 House ; and his father, Viscount Frappingham, 
 being a confirmed invalid, he did pretty much as 
 he pleased beneath the paternal roof. 
 
 "I was thinking of getting back to my rooms," 
 answered Griffin doubtfully. "These late hours, you 
 know " 
 
 The Hon. Bob interrupted this half-protest by a 
 merry laugh, and looked at his companion in utter 
 amazement.
 
 After the Ball. 
 
 " What next ? " he exclaimed. " Here is poor, 
 dehcate Morley Griffin, who stands six feet three in 
 his socks, who measures forty-five inches round the 
 chest, and whom I have seen fined times out of 
 number for overstaying regulation closing-hour at 
 the club, talking about late hours at 3 a.m. ! 
 Come along, thou son of Anak, and don't talk 
 
 nonsense." 
 
 Some half-dozen other men were easily persuaded 
 to follow suit, and the cosy smoking-room, which 
 the Hon. Bob had described as his " den," was 
 speedily redolent of cigars and whisky. 
 
 " Deuce of a bore, these hops," remarked their 
 host, settling himself comfortably in an armchair. 
 " Upset all the servants, and one can't get a decent 
 meal for days afterwards. Thank goodness, this is 
 the last of them ; eh, Morley ? " 
 
 " Well, I don't know," was the reply hesitatingly 
 given. " For my part, I enjoyed this dance 
 immensely." 
 
 " So anyone else could see," put in a slight, 
 somewhat blase-looking man of about thirty, known 
 to the world as Hugh Darrell. " Would it be
 
 8 Dartmoor. 
 
 indiscreet to offer you one's congratulations, old 
 fellow ? " 
 
 The words were, in themselves, harmless enough, 
 and were uttered in a tone evidently meant to be one 
 of mild banter. But there was a gleam in the 
 speaker's steely grey eyes, and a certain hard ring in 
 his voice, which might have told their own tale to a 
 more observant man than big, good-natured Morley 
 Griffin. 
 
 "I don't know what you're driving at," he 
 stammered, with an air of embarrassment, which 
 provoked a general laugh, his infatuation over Miss 
 Conyers having long been an open secret. 
 
 " Never mind their chaff, Morley," advised the 
 Hon. Bob, coming to the rescue. " We shall know 
 all about it when the acceptances for the Matri- 
 monial Stakes come out. By the way, talking of 
 acceptances, does anyone know the strength of the 
 report that Homebush will not start for the Cup ?" 
 
 " Correct enough I 'm afraid," replied Captain 
 Heavyside, a sporting dragoon. " Broke down at 
 exercise yesterday completely. That should improve 
 the chances of your horse Hyperion, Darrell, eh?"
 
 After the Ball. 
 
 "Yes," assented Darrell. "With Homebush 
 out of the way, Hyperion should have the Cup at 
 his mercy. I always fancied my horse's chance and 
 told you fellows to back him when the weights came 
 
 out." 
 
 A murmur of assent went round. 
 
 " Well," pursued Hyperion's owner, " those of 
 you who do so will stand on velvet. He will be at 
 100 to 12 to-day, and I '11 take short odds he sees 
 3 to I before the flag falls." 
 
 " If you have backed your opinion yourself to 
 any large amount," remarked the Hon. Bob drily, 
 "you'll have some nice hedging at that rate." 
 
 "I shall not hedge a shilling," rejoined Darrell 
 resolutely. " I shall back the horse up to the very 
 start. The race is a moral certainty." 
 
 Now, Hugh Darrell's judgment was held in great 
 respect in sporting circles. He had had several stiff 
 bouts with the Ring, and was known to have come 
 off a considerable winner, upon the whole. Indeed, 
 those were not wanting among his enemies who 
 opined that he owed the major part of the large 
 fortune he was accredited with possessing (and,
 
 10 Dartmoor 
 
 incidentally, his good position sociably) to his cool 
 head and sound judgment in racing matters. He 
 certainly owed nothing to ancestry or family con- 
 nections, and appeared to take a sort of quiet- 
 pleasure in posing as a successful self-made man. 
 
 Having exhausted the subject of Hyperion's 
 merits, the Hon. Bob's guests presently departed 
 with the exception of Morley Griffin, who, at his host's 
 particular request, stayed to smoke out his cigar. 
 
 "You've become rather thick with that fellow 
 Darrell lately, haven't you, Morley?" he inquired 
 meditatively. 
 
 " Not particularly so, I don't think," was the 
 reply. " Now you mention it, though, I do seem to 
 run icross him more frequently of late than I used 
 to. Why do you ask ? " 
 
 " He 's a fellow I can't quite make out," explained 
 his host, " and I don't love mystery men. Except 
 that he owns a few good horses, spends money 
 freely, and talks of buying a yacht, one knows so 
 little about him. Who or what is he ? Seems a 
 gentleman and moves in a good set, but somehow 
 nobody seems to know anything of him."
 
 After the Ball. ii 
 
 " Oh, he's right enough," rejoined Griffin. "He 
 makes no disguise of the fact that he's a self-made 
 man; but, after all, what does that matter? My 
 grandfather made his money in tallow, or some such 
 stuff." 
 
 "What your grandfather did doesn't matter a 
 little bit," retorted the Hon. Bob, sententiously. 
 " You and I were at Harrow and Oxford together. 
 We both got plucked for every possible exam., and 
 all the crammers going couldn't scrape us through the 
 army entrance competition. So you got a militia 
 commission, in hopes of by-and-by creeping back- 
 stairs fashion into the line, and I settled down to 
 nothing in particular. That's all right. We know 
 all about each other, just as we know all about most 
 of the men we associate with. But what the deuce 
 do we know about Mr. Hugh Darrell ? By the way, 
 I judged from his remarks that you have cut him 
 out with the Conyers girl." 
 
 " Yes," assented Griffin eagerly. " I don't know 
 how he found it out, but, an hour or two ago, she 
 promised to be my wife." 
 
 "The deuce she did!" exclaimed his friend,.
 
 12 Darimoor. 
 
 indulging in a soft, prolonged whistle. That's rather 
 a serious step isn't it, old fellow? Not coming off 
 just yet, I hope ? Fancy marrying, and becoming 
 dead to the world at twenty-two! It's downright 
 wicked ! " and the Hon. Bob paced the room in 
 manifest perturbation of spirit. 
 
 Somewhat taken aback by this sudden ebullition 
 of anti-matrimonial feeling, Morley Griffin puffed 
 at his cigar for some moments in silence. 
 
 "Hang it all. Bob," he presently protested, "a 
 fellow must marry some time." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," replied his friend, relapsing 
 into a chair. "So, too, a fellow must give up 
 hunting some time, and, for the matter of that, must 
 die some day or other. But I don't see the force 
 of anticipating the evil hour. However, if you have 
 really proposed and have been accepted, there 's an 
 end to the matter. One can't decently pay forfeit 
 in the Matrimonial Stakes. When does the trouble 
 begin ? Of course, I '11 be there to see you weigh in." 
 
 " Bob, you are incorrigible ! " exclaimed Griffin. 
 " I believe you regard every event in life from the 
 saddling-paddock point of view."
 
 After the Ball. 13 
 
 ** Well," was the prompt retort, " and what is 
 life but a succession of races from the Nursery 
 Handicap to the All-aged Stakes ? Had Shake- 
 speare lived nowadays, he would certainly have 
 written that 'All the world's a racecourse, and men 
 and women merely — "gees!"' But you have not 
 yet told me when the event is coming off." 
 
 " We did not get so far as that," explained Griffin. 
 ** I merely proposed to Ethel, and she accepted me — 
 in a general sort of way." 
 
 " Oh ! " was his friend's comment. "Then it's 
 not a fixture, after all! Come, that's better. It's 
 wonderful what a lot of these matches never come 
 off. I say, don't glare at me like that, old chap. 
 What is the use of expecting me to look pleased 
 at the prospect of losing a good chum in the 
 matrimonial noose, when I'm not?" 
 
 " I told you. Bob, long ago, that my future 
 happiness depends upon making Ethel Conyers my 
 wife," said Griffin, with an aggrieved air, "and 
 that should suffice to enlist your sympathies." 
 
 " Oh, I sympathise with you right enough," 
 rejoined the Hon. Bob, " especially as you seem so
 
 14 Dartmoor. 
 
 bent upon sacrificing yourself! But I reserve the 
 right to hope the match may fall through, for all 
 that. What about Lady Conyers ? She will have 
 a say in the matter." 
 
 " Yes," assented Griffin, " I daresay there will be 
 a difficulty in that quarter. I know Lady Conyers 
 has an idea that Ethel should look far higher than 
 a not over-wealthy lieutenant of Militia. But, after 
 all, the girl is free to choose for herself, and between 
 us we shall have enough to live upon comfortably. 
 By my uncle's Will I shall come into ;^i6,ooo upon 
 my twenty-third birthday — six months hence. Ethel 
 will have ^10,000 of her own. Say it costs me 
 ^3,000 to square-up my various debts. Very well ; 
 I shall throw up the Service, and put the balance of 
 my money into some good paying business in the 
 City " 
 
 "Am I awake?" interrupted the Hon. Bob. 
 " Morley Griffin throwing over the Service to go 
 into business in the City ! The man is mad ; 
 stark mad ! Why, only yesterday we were com- 
 paring our books over Goodwood " 
 
 " Oh, I shall give up all that sort of thing,"
 
 After the Ball. 15 
 
 explained Griffin. " That is, of course, I must see 
 this meeting through, but after that — no more 
 betting for me. I wonder, by the way, whether 
 Darrell's horse is the certainty he fancies for the 
 
 Cup?" 
 
 The Hon. Bob Dyver laughed. " That's you all 
 over, Morley," he remarked. " You talk in the calmest 
 way of giving up racing, and, in the same breath, 
 speculate upon Hyperion's chances for the Cup ! " 
 
 " I said I should give up racing after Goodwood," 
 retorted his friend, a little nettled. " I can't scratch 
 wagers already made, and so I must see this meeting 
 through. I've made rather a dangerous-looking 
 book so far, as you know, and if Hyperion is really 
 as good as Darrell says, it would pull me through 
 nicely to back him." 
 
 " If the horse is anything like the owner, I 
 shouldn't care to back him very far," was the 
 rejoinder, as Griffin at length rose to take his 
 leave. 
 
 " How prejudiced you are against Darrell ! " he 
 remonstrated. " Has he ever done you an injury ?" 
 
 " No," replied his host. " I never gave him cause
 
 i6 Dartmoor. 
 
 or opportunity. He is one of those men whom I 
 desire neither as friend nor foe, and, if you take my 
 advice, you'll give him a wider berth in future. 
 Another soda before you start ? No ? Well, ta-ta, 
 old fellow. I daresay we shall learn something about 
 this wonderful Hyperion this afternoon." 
 
 Whereupon the two friends shook hands and 
 separated.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LADY CONYERS HAS HER SAY. 
 
 MORLEY GRIFFIN'S forebodings with respect 
 to Lady Conyers' reception of the news of her 
 daughter's sudden engagement were fully realised. 
 A cool, calculating, up-to-date woman of the world, 
 her ladyship refused even to hear of the young 
 militia officer as a prospective son-in-law. 
 
 " You must be mad, my dear, to dream of such 
 an alliance," she told her daughter. " This Mr. 
 Griffin is certainly good-looking, and a magnificent 
 specimen of manhood, but I am credibly informed 
 he has next to no money " 
 
 " He will have ;^i6,ooo in six months' time," 
 conceded Ethel, a pretty, somewhat empty-headed 
 blonde of nineteen ; " he told me so himself." 
 
 " He belongs to a fast set, and is doubtless 
 riddled with debts," pursued her ladyship. "The 
 interest upon what may remain to him after paying 
 these debts would probably not keep him in gloves 
 and cigars." 
 
 2 
 
 17
 
 1 8 Dartmoor. 
 
 " You forget, mamma, that I have j^io,ooo," 
 urged the young girl, half defiantly. 
 
 " Which, safely invested, means an income of 
 ^300 a year," rejoined Lady Conyers. " Sufficient 
 no doubt for pin-money, but utterly inadequate for 
 housekeeping. My dear, the matter is past all 
 argument. You may as well at once dismiss all idea 
 of this preposterous match from your mind. It is a 
 poor return for all my trouble in bringing you up to 
 view the world rationally that, with half-a-dozen 
 excellent partis to choose from, you should select 
 this young man, who is quite ineligible." 
 
 " He loves me," murmured Ethel, at a loss for 
 stronger argument in defence of her lover. 
 
 *' Loves you ! " repeated her ladyship, with fine 
 scorn. "And in proof of his affection, he seeks to 
 fetter you down to the horrors of an improvident 
 marriage ! I tell you, child, it is sheer insanity 
 to dream of marrying nowadays upon less than 
 £1,500 a year, and, between you, you would not 
 have half that income. Were he a rising young 
 man in some profitable profession, there might be 
 a ray of hope ; but a commission in the militia —
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 19 
 
 really, my dear, the thing is too absurd ! You say 
 he intends calling this afternoon. / shall receive 
 him." 
 
 Lady Conyers was as good as her word, and poor 
 Morley Griffin spent an extremely mauvais quart 
 dlieure. In the coldest language of common-sense, 
 she pointed out to him the hopelessness of his suit, 
 from the standpoint of simple arithmetic. 
 
 "And having made it plain to you, Mr. Griffin," 
 she concluded, in her iciest manner, " that you 
 have no prospects whatever of being in a position 
 to keep my daughter in the style to which she has 
 been accustomed, you will, of course, understand 
 that her hasty engagement to you (made subject to 
 my approval) is at an end." 
 
 " But I maintain. Lady Conyers," persisted 
 Griffin, " that I shall be able, in six months' time, 
 to provide her with all the comforts and most of 
 the luxuries to which, as you say, she has been 
 accustomed." 
 
 " Excuse me, Mr. Griffin," rejoined her ladyship. 
 " Your own statement as to your means justifies 
 no such hope. If, six months' hence, you can show
 
 20 Dartmoor. 
 
 me proofs of an income of ^1,400 or ^^1,500 a year, 
 and if Ethel is still free, I shall be prepared to 
 reconsider my present decision. But, meanwhile, 
 there must be no engagement between you and 
 her." 
 
 " I received her promise from her own lips," 
 protested the lover, rendered desperate by this 
 ultimatum, " and from her alone am I willing to 
 accept my dismissal." 
 
 " Very well, Mr, Griffin," assented Lady Conyers, 
 with a steady stare, "you shall have it from her — by 
 post. I have a horror of scenes, and my daughter's 
 nerves are not sufficiently strong to justify me in 
 subjecting her to the trial of an interview with you 
 in your present unreasonable frame of mind. Under- 
 stand, please, that I should regard any attempt on 
 your part to force yourself upon her as an act of 
 gross discourtesy towards me. Good-afternoon, 
 Mr. Griffin!" 
 
 And before the luckless wooer could frame any 
 adequate protest against this dismissal, a tall flunkey 
 had bowed him out into the street. 
 
 " A mercenary old cat ! " he muttered to him-
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 21 
 
 self, as he walked in dejected mood towards his club. 
 "One would think, to hear her talk, that I'm a 
 downright pauper. After all said and done, I shall 
 have £16,000 in February . . . less, of course, my 
 debts. . . . Let me see . . . Aaronson, £1,200 . . . 
 Hyman, £800 . , . tradespeople, about £700. Allowing 
 a margin and for extra expenses until February, I 
 shall have a balance of about £13,000 to the good. 
 Hold hard, though ! What about my Goodwood 
 book? Homebush has broken down. That's a 
 dead loss of £250. . . . Cambyses scratched for the 
 Stakes. . . . Another facer ! . . . Upon the whole, 
 my book doesn't look healthy. What if I went a 
 bit of a plunge on Darrell's horse ? Darrell is a 
 good enough fellow, despite Bob's absurd prejudice 
 against him, and he seems very sweet upon 
 Hyperion's chance. Yes, a bit of a plunge would 
 pull me through — if it came off — and leave me some- 
 thing to the good. Hanged if I don't go and talk 
 things over with Darrell. Perhaps he's at the club. 
 ... As for Ethel writing to throw me over, that's 
 all rubbish. I know her too well to believe that for 
 one moment."
 
 22 Dartmoor, 
 
 Mr. Darrell was not at the club, but Morley 
 Griffin eventually found him in his rooms in Jermyn 
 Street. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Griffin," was his greeting. "I 
 was just wondering what I should do with myself 
 for an hour or so. Going down to-night or to- 
 morrow ? " 
 
 "To-night, I think," replied Griffin. "Bob 
 Dyver has wired me that he can put me up at 
 Chichester, and will wait supper for last train." 
 
 " Capital fellow, Dyver," remarked Darrell. 
 "Will you split a soda?" 
 
 "Thanks," assented his visitor. "It is thirsty 
 weather. And now, Darrell, I want to ask your 
 advice." 
 
 " Quite at your service, my dear fellow," answered 
 Darrell. " What is it ? " 
 
 Morley Griffin made no reply until the servant 
 had supplied the desired refreshment and had with- 
 drawn. 
 
 "Well, it's just this," he said; "you fellows 
 chaffed me, after the dance, about Miss Conyers." 
 
 "Did we?" queried his host, lighting a cigar
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 23 
 
 and puffing at it with unnecessary vigour. " Not 
 offended, I hope ? I fear you were not very discreet. 
 You were overheard, I fancy." 
 
 " You seem to have heard of it, anyhow," said 
 Griffin. " And you were quite correct. Ethel 
 Conyers accepted me." 
 
 " Confound this cigar ! " ejaculated Darrell, 
 viciously, throwing the weed, which his suddenly- 
 clenched teeth had mutilated, into the fire-place. 
 " They always put a percentage of bad ones into a 
 good box. Yes ? You were saying that Miss Conyers 
 has accepted you. Let me congratulate you. She 
 is quite the nicest girl I know." 
 
 " Isn't she ? " echoed Griffin, eagerly, grasping 
 Darrell's hand. " I can scarcely as yet realise my 
 good fortune. But (and here is where I want your 
 advice, Darrell) her mother has seen fit to raise 
 objections to our engagement." 
 
 "Ah ! " exclaimed Darrell, lighting a fresh cigar. 
 " So Lady Conyers objects, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented Griffin ; " she tries to make out 
 that my means do not justify me in marrying her 
 daughter."
 
 24 Dartmoor. 
 
 " But, my dear fellow," remarked Darrell, with 
 one of his cynical smiles, " that is easily settled. 
 Refer her to your solicitors and bankers. Nowadays 
 everything is a question of £ s. d." 
 
 "That's just where the trouble comes in!" cried 
 Griffin, jumping from his chair and pacing the room 
 excitedly. " I have £6^0 a year, being the interest 
 on ;;^i6,ooo due to me next February. After paying 
 my debts, I shall have about ;;^i3,ooo clear. Now, 
 surely, a fellow with that amount of capital can 
 secure a partnership in some sound business or 
 other " 
 
 " A City-bred man could do so easily," inter- 
 rupted Darrell, " but a fellow reared in your school 
 — never. You would simply be robbed. £"13,000 
 to a man like you means, safely invested, about ;£"4oo 
 a year." 
 
 " Ethel has ^^10,000," put in Griffin. 
 
 " Worth another £"300 a year," rejoined his 
 adviser, drily. " That would give you £700 a year 
 between you, of which your proposed wife would 
 contribute nearly half. Imagine for yourself what 
 such an establishment would mean. Lady Conyers
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 25 
 
 is quite right: the thing is an absurdity. Why, I 
 myself, who am by no means an extravagant man, 
 spend, at least, ;^3,ooo a year. And then, I earn 
 money ; I grow richer as I grow older." 
 
 "I wish I knew how you do it," remarked Griffin, 
 enviously. 
 
 " Do you ? " echoed his host, with his hard, 
 cynical laugh. " Well, I '11 tell you. I keep my eyes 
 and ears open, and a close guard upon my tongue. 
 The world is made up of a good many fools, who 
 commit blunders, and a few wise men, who profit by 
 their mistakes. That is the whole secret, my dear 
 Griffin. For instance, when I gave Chudleigh ;^8oo 
 for Hyperion, he was a fool to sell and I was a wise 
 man to buy — as you will all know when the horse 
 romps in for the Goodwood Cup." 
 
 " You seem very confident about winning that 
 race, Darrell." 
 
 "Certainly I am. I know to a pound what the 
 horse can do. I have studied the form of the other 
 horses in the race, and I am satisfied that, with 
 Homebush scratched, Hyperion must win. Nor can 
 you fellows accuse me of keeping this good thing to
 
 26 Dartmoor. 
 
 myself. As you know, I have made no secret of my 
 horse's chance." 
 
 "That is so," assented Griffin, "and some of us 
 have backed your opinion pretty stiffly. I wish I 
 felt as confident about the horse as you do. My 
 book at present is rather in a mess, and I need a 
 good big haul to pull me round." 
 
 " Well, you must please 3^ourself about backing 
 my horse," rejoined Darrell. " I can only assure 
 you that such a chance of picking up money does 
 not often occur. Except as your friend and well- 
 wisher, it can matter nothing to me whether you 
 take my advice or not." 
 
 "You're a downright good fellow, Darrell!" 
 exclaimed Griffin, grasping his adviser's hand. 
 "I'll risk a plunge!" 
 
 "Risk?" echoed Darrell, half contemptuously. 
 "There's no risk about the matter. I tell you that, 
 so far as Hyperion is concerned, the result of the 
 race is a foregone conclusion. Going ? Well, we 
 shall meet to-morrow on the course. Sans adieu." 
 
 Lady Conyers was clearly determined not to 
 keep her daughter's suitor in suspense, for that very
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 27 
 
 evening a letter reached Griffin from Ethel herself. 
 For some moments the young man stared at the 
 unopened missive, as though half dreading to break 
 the seal. Then he opened it and read the 
 following : — 
 
 " 171 Curzon Street, August ist. 
 
 " Dear Mr. Griffin, — Your conversation to-day 
 with mamma will have prepared you for this letter, 
 which, as you can well imagine, it costs me no small 
 effort to write. Mamma has told me all about your 
 interview with her, and I need not, therefore, tell 
 you how determined she is that there shall be no 
 engagement between us. What can I say or do ? It 
 seemed so pleasant and so easy to form plans for the 
 future in the conservatory at Lady Frappingham's, 
 but now it looks as though we were merely building 
 a house of cards. I understand very little about 
 what people call the realities of life ; but I know 
 that it costs a great deal of money to keep up an 
 establishment in proper style. Mamma has tried to 
 explain this to me in figures, which confuse me and 
 make my head ache. Yet she has made it perfectly 
 clear that you and I are too poor to marry. Of 
 course I did not know this when I promised to be
 
 28 Dartmoor. 
 
 your wife, and I am sure you did not realise it either 
 when you asked me. 
 
 " Perhaps, when you read these lines, you will 
 tear up my poor little letter and call me false and 
 mercenary. I am neither; but I feel I am not 
 clever enough, nor patient enough, to be a poor 
 man's wife. You would hate me within six months 
 if you saw me in a badly-fitting gown ; I know you 
 would. So do not be angry with me, but let us be 
 friends as we were before. One never knows what 
 the future may have in store. It may be that, some 
 day, that which now seems impossible may become 
 possible — who knows ? I am nineteen. I shall not 
 be of age for two years, and I must, meanwhile, 
 obey mamma. We are not going down to Good- 
 wood. Mamma has changed her plans, and we are 
 leaving almost immediately for Switzerland, whence 
 we shall proceed, later on, to Italy. 
 
 " Lastly, do not misjudge mamma. She is really 
 doing what she considers to be her duty. Personally 
 she likes you. She says you are the finest-looking 
 man she ever saw, and that it is a thousand pities 
 your income does not correspond with your stature ! 
 She bids me say that we shall be at home this 
 evening, and that, if you are now prepared to take a
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 29 
 
 reasonable view of the matter, j'ou may call and see 
 
 me at nine o'clock. We shall be gone before you 
 
 return from Goodwood, and I should like to say 
 
 good-bye. 
 
 " Sincerely your friend, 
 
 " Ethel Maud Conyers." 
 
 Morley Griffin read this letter through twice, 
 slowly and carefully. Then, so far from tearing it 
 up, he placed it tenderly, reverently, in his pocket- 
 book. 
 
 " Poor child ! " he murmured. " The mother's 
 influence is too strong for her to fight against. I 
 dare swear Lady Conyers dictated the greater portion 
 and left Ethel to finish it herself. And the sum 
 total of the inspired remarks is this : If, within the 
 next two years, I can succeed in increasing my 
 fortune, and if Ethel remains true to me, then — she 
 may yet be mine ; but, meanwhile, there is to be no 
 engagement. Well, from the mother's point of view, 
 I daresay this is not so unreasonable as I at first 
 deemed it. After all, what need is there of a formal 
 engagement v/hen I know quite well my darling 
 will wait for me? Yes, I'll be 'reasonable,' as
 
 30 Dartmoor. 
 
 her ladyship calls it, and most certainly I '11 call. 
 I wonder if I shall see her alone ? Let me see. 
 Twenty to nine. Just time to get there comfortably. 
 I can pick up my portmanteau on the way back, and 
 catch the 10.50 train to Chichester." 
 
 Our hero's hopes of a tete-d-tcte interview were 
 doomed to disappointment, for Lady Conyers had 
 been sagacious enough to invite some friends to 
 dinner, and the drawing-room was fairly well filled 
 when he arrived. Lady Conyers, after favouring 
 him with a keen glance of mingled inquiry and 
 warning, received him courteously, with some ap- 
 proach to cordiality even. 
 
 " I am pleased to see that you at length take a 
 sensible view of the situation, Mr. Griffin," she found 
 opportunity to remark, in a confidential " aside." 
 " It is so much pleasanter for all that a proper 
 understanding should be arrived at, especially as we 
 are not likely to meet again for many months," 
 
 And without waiting a reply, she passed on 
 amongst her other guests. 
 
 Do what he would, Griffin found it impossible to 
 obtain even a moment's private speech with Ethel.
 
 Lady Conyers has her say. 31 
 
 The girl herself looked somewhat pale and distraite, 
 and her lover could see that it cost her an effort to 
 treat him as an ordinary acquaintance. But as she 
 gave him no assistance towards securing a tete-a-tete 
 (in obedience, doubtless, to her mother's instructions), 
 he had to content himself with exchanging such 
 remarks as were possible in general conversation. 
 Not until he had bidden his hostess farewell did his 
 chance come. He saw Ethel standing alone near 
 the grand piano, and advanced to take his leave. 
 
 " Good - bye, Ethel," he whispered, hurriedly. 
 ** For you are still Ethel to me, and my darling. I 
 understand your letter; and if energy and deter- 
 mination can do it, I will tide over this monetary 
 gap. Only promise that you will not forget me. 
 Give me time, dearest. Wait a little while for me." 
 
 The girl's pale face flushed momentarily, and 
 Griffin felt the small hand tremble in his own, 
 
 " Yes, Morley," she murmured, " I will wait — as 
 long as I can." 
 
 " Good-bye, then, darling, and God bless you ! " 
 he rejoined in hot haste, for Lady Conyers was 
 bearing down upon them. One final hand-clasp,
 
 32 Dartmoor 
 
 and, a minute later, he was racing as fast as a speedy 
 hansom could travel, to catch the 10.50 train. "She 
 loves me ! " he said to himself, "and she will wait 
 for me. The rest depends upon Fortune and my- 
 self; " and, so saying, this inconsistent young man 
 proceeded to discount fortune by lighting an eighteen- 
 penny cigar.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GOODWOOD. 
 
 WHEN, late that night, Morley Griilin strode into 
 the Hon. Bob Uyver's quarters at Chichester, 
 he somewhat staggered that not very prudent young 
 nobleman by the extent to which Hyperion figured 
 in his betting-book. 
 
 " One thousand to one hundred and fifty, five 
 times over! " he remarked, raising his eyebrows. 
 "That's going it pretty stiff, isn't it, Morley? The 
 horse appears to be all right, and certainly has a 
 good chance, on paper ; but one should know a 
 great deal to plunge like that, if one don't happen to 
 be a millionaire." 
 
 " I do know — or, at least, Darrell does," protested 
 Griffin. "You know what a good judge he is in 
 these matters, and he vows Hyperion cannot possibly 
 lose." 
 
 "Well, since he appears to take such a great 
 interest in your affairs, I suppose it 's all right." was 
 the reply. " Personally, I don't much like the man, 
 
 3 
 
 33
 
 34 Dartmoor. 
 
 as I told you ; but he can scarcely have any interest 
 to serve by advising fellows in his own set to back a 
 losing horse." 
 
 " Of course not," assented Griffin, eagerly. 
 " Besides, he has backed Hyperion heavily him- 
 self." 
 
 Much more was said upon the same topic. It is 
 wonderful how talkative men become when a horse 
 is under discussion ; and, in the end, the Hon. Bob 
 so far renounced his prejudice against the owner as 
 to announce his intention of backing Hyperion him- 
 self for a win of ;^3,ooo. 
 
 Goodwood Races, as all the world knows, last 
 four days, the race for the cup being decided upon 
 the third day. The results of the various events 
 upon the Tuesday and Wednesday do not particularly 
 concern this narrative, though it may be mentioned 
 that Morley Griffin had so strong a run of luck that, 
 although he made but moderate wagers, he was 
 nearly ^^500 to the good upon the morning of 
 Thursday, the Cup Day. Elated by this success, he 
 resolved to increase his venture upon Hyperion; and 
 that animal's price having hardened to three to one,
 
 Goodioood. 35 
 
 he accepted a final ;£'i,5oo to ;r5oo. He thus stood, 
 upon the whole, to win £(^,'S'^o or to lose £750; and, 
 had he chosen, he might obviously have "hedged" 
 at a considerable profit. Indeed, to this course the 
 Hon. Bob Dyver had strongly urged him. 
 
 "Hedge!" exclaimed Darrell, scornfully, over- 
 hearing this advice. " It would simply be throwing 
 money away. I have just taken a final ^3,000 to 
 j/^i,ooo myself." 
 
 And, fortified by this opinion, Morley Griffin 
 stood to his guns. 
 
 Strong and iron-nerved though he was, his heart 
 beat fast as the seven competitors for the Cup 
 paraded before the grand stand. If only that big, 
 grand-looking chestnut, called Hyperion, and carry- 
 ing the red and gold colours, should justify Darrell's 
 prediction ! -£"6,500. Enough to pay off all his 
 debts, clear his inheritance, and leave him a comfort- 
 able sum in hand for an autumn trip withal. The 
 Conyers were going South — to Italy. Let but 
 Hyperion win, and he, Morley Griffin, could compass 
 the same trip, and so remain near his darling. 
 Win ? Of course Hyperion would win ! Did he 
 
 3 *
 
 36 Dartmoor. 
 
 not look a winner all over as he sped past, with long, 
 sweeping strides in the preliminary canter ? Had 
 he not hardened down to the position of favourite ? 
 And was not his owner, Hugh Darrell, still con- 
 fidently asserting, with his usual cold, cynical laugh, 
 that the race was as good as over ? 
 
 Two false starts, both due to the fractious con- 
 duct of a vicious-looking bay, called Grasshopper ; 
 and, at the second, Hyperion raced with Grass- 
 hopper for nearly half-a-mile before his jockey could 
 stop him. 
 
 "That won't improve your horse's chance, 
 Darrell," remarked the Hon. Bob Dyver. 
 
 " Oh, it will do him no harm," replied the owner, 
 coolly. " He likes a pipe-opener." 
 
 "The bookmakers seem to think differently," 
 retorted the Hon. Bob, grimly, as shouts of " Five 
 to one, Hyperion! " proceeded from the crowded ring. 
 
 "They're off! " proclaimed thousands of voices 
 in a mighty roar, and the clanging bell confirmed 
 the fact that the race for the Cup was indeed in 
 progress. Hyperion again rushed to the front, but 
 his jockey presently steadied him ; and, when a
 
 Goodwood. 37 
 
 mile had been covered, the bi^ chestnut was fourth, 
 two lengths behind three horses that were leading 
 in a bunch, and closely followed by the rest of the 
 field. When another half-mile had been covered, 
 the favourite drew up to the leaders, like an arrow 
 shot from the bow, and loud shouts proclaimed the 
 fact that he was leading. 
 
 "As I told you," remarked Darrell, coolly, shut- 
 ting up his glasses ; " it is all over ! " 
 
 And Morley Griffin could scarce restrain the 
 cheer that rose in his throat. 
 
 Was it all over ? What meant that raucous yell 
 from the thunderous-voiced bookmakers? Hyperion 
 was leading, indeed, but his jockey was moving 
 upon him, and, a second later, the tell-tale whip 
 was at work. On, gallant chestnut, on ! On, 
 though limb fail thee, and bright eye grow dim, and 
 nauseous taste be on thy bit ! On, for yet a few 
 score yards, and hoist thy rascal owners with their 
 own petard! Alas! it might not be! Nor whip, 
 nor spur, nor equine courage could avail against 
 nauseating drug, and, with drooping head, Hyperion, 
 the favourite, staggered in a bad fifth.
 
 38 Dartmoor. 
 
 All eyes in his immediate neighbourhood were 
 instinctively turned upon Darrell. Not that any foul 
 play was suspected. The jockey had evidently ridden 
 the horse out to the last possible effort ; but Hyperion 
 had as clearly been unable to stay the full two miles. 
 And those who had backed the favourite, upon Dar- 
 rell's advice, now looked at him to see how he would 
 bear his defeat. 
 
 Except for a slight paleness, his face showed 
 nothing of what was passing in his mind, and he 
 glanced around him with his habitual cynical 
 smile. 
 
 " I think, after that, I shall have a brandy and 
 soda," he remarked, quietly. " That false start 
 pumped my horse." 
 
 And so saying, he moved away as cool and im- 
 passive as ever. 
 
 Morley Griffin had been trained in a school which 
 condemns all outward display of emotion as the worst 
 of bad form ; yet it needed a strong effort on his part 
 to maintain the appearance of a tranquil demeanour. 
 To see all his apparently well-grounded hopes of 
 paying off his creditors, and of a tour in Italy, thus
 
 Goodwood. 39 
 
 suddenly shattered by the collapse of Hyperion, was 
 almost more than he could silently endure. 
 
 " Hard lines, old chap," whispered the Hon. Bob 
 Dyver, squeezing his arm sympathetically, " but it 
 can't be helped. That confounded Darrell must 
 have made an awful mistake about his horse's stay 
 ing power; the brute was done half a mile from 
 home. I expect that, as he says, that false start 
 took it out of him. Never saw such a complete case 
 of collapse in my life. Come and have a peg to 
 steady your nerves a bit." 
 
 Morley Griffin said but little. His disappoint- 
 ment was too keen to permit of his finding solace in 
 words — or, at all events, in such words as might be 
 spoken upon the grand stand at Goodwood. He 
 drank, however, somewhat more heavily than was 
 his wont, and announced his intention of returning 
 to London that same evening. 
 
 "Nonsense, Morley!" exclaimed the Hon. Bob. 
 " Stay over to-morrow, and have another slap at the 
 books. A couple of decent wins would put you 
 straight." 
 
 " No, Bob," answered Griffin, shaking his head
 
 40 Dartmoor 
 
 sadly. " If I get any deeper into the mire, I shall 
 never get out again. As it is, it will take me all my 
 time to square up on Monday. I shall get back to- 
 night, and see old Aaronson in the morning." 
 
 " Lots of time to see him on Saturday," urged 
 'The Plunger,' "and to pick yourself up here to- 
 morrow. The last day of a meeting is generally a 
 lucky one for backers. With a streak of luck, you 
 won't need to see Aaronson at all." 
 
 "Don't tempt me, Bob," said Griffin. " I can't 
 venture to risk the loss of any more money just now." 
 
 "All right, old fellow, you know best," assented 
 his friend. " Well, since you are bent upon going, 
 you may tell the old shark that, if my luck doesn't 
 change to-morrow, he may expect to see me on 
 Saturday." 
 
 And so Morley Griffin was a passenger by the 
 night mail-train, by which, somewhat to his surprise, 
 Hugh Darrell was travelling also. 
 
 " I am too much disgusted with Hyperion's per- 
 formance to see the meeting through," he explained. 
 " By the way, I hope you 're not very hard hit, 
 Griffin?"
 
 Goodwood. 41 
 
 There was a ring of real anxiety about this 
 inquiry for which Morley felt grateful. 
 
 " Harder than I can afford just at present," he 
 replied. " I have lost ;^75o ; but Aaronson will put 
 that right." 
 
 " Only £750 ! " echoed Darrell, in surprise. " I 
 thought you were in it far deeper than that. Why, 
 ;r2,ooo won't cover my book. You must have done 
 pretty well the first two days." 
 
 " Yes," assented Griffin, " I did very well until I 
 went ' nap ' on your horse." 
 
 Darrell looked at his companion as though sus- 
 pecting some latent meaning in the words, but 
 quickly satisfied himself that there was none. 
 
 " Come, Griffin," he said, " you must not talk as 
 though I were to blame for my horse's collapse. 
 No one could possibly foresee that unlucky false 
 start, but for which Hyperion must have won. I 
 advised you to the best of my knowledge and 
 belief." 
 
 *' I 'm quite sure of that, Darrell," was the reply. 
 " You can have no reason to wish me harm." 
 
 Had Griffin seen the bitter smile that curled his
 
 42 Dartmoor. 
 
 companion's lips, and the savage gleam in the steely- 
 grey eyes, he might have spoken less confidently on 
 
 this point. 
 
 " Of course not ! " rejoined Darrell, as they settled 
 down, each into his own corner of the carriage. 
 "Why should I?"
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RAISING THE ^^'IND, 
 
 M 
 
 R. JACOB AARONSON was sitting at the 
 receipt of custom in his snug West-end office; 
 and his vulture-hke countenance wore a look of 
 contented expectancy, for he anticipated brisk 
 business that sultry morning in early August. The 
 London season was at its very last gasp, and, as a 
 natural result, many of its votaries were at their 
 last gasp also. Moreover, was it not Friday in 
 Goodwood week, had not the favourites had a 
 wofully bad time of it, and would not aristocratic 
 backers have heavy books to square up upon the 
 following Monday ? Therefore Mr. Jacob Aaronson 
 was sitting, as we have said, contentedly expectant. 
 Presently his clerk, another vulture of more 
 youthful appearance, entered with a card in his 
 hand. The look of expectancy upon the Jew's face 
 changed to one of eager satisfaction as he read the 
 name. 
 
 43
 
 44 Dartmoor. 
 
 "Mr. Morley Griffin;" he exclaimed. "Show 
 him in, Isaac. Show the gentleman in." 
 
 But the gentleman in question apparently knew 
 the way, for he followed close upon the clerk's heels. 
 
 " Morning," he remarked, with a curt nod, in reply 
 to Mr. Aaronson's salutation, and taking the chair 
 which the latter indicated. "You can pretty well 
 guess what I 've come about. Goodwood has cleaned 
 me out, and you must find me £yso by Monday 
 morning." 
 
 Mr. Aaronson rubbed his hands over one another 
 softly, and shook his head with a deprecatory leer 
 that did duty for a smile. 
 
 " Money is very tight just now, Mr. Griffin," he 
 observed, "terribly tight. I was in hopes you had 
 called in order to take up those two bills " 
 
 " Which you renewed last month at sixty per 
 cent., eh ? " put in his visitor with a laugh. " Well, 
 if that horse of Darrell's had won the Cup, I should 
 have been tempted to do something of the sort, but, 
 as it is, I 'm just stone broke." 
 
 "That's bad," said the Jew, in a tone of regret- 
 ful sympathy, "very bad. What a pity you young
 
 Raising the Wind. 45 
 
 gentlemen will insist upon backing horses ! I have 
 already had more applications for money than I can 
 possibly meet. Fact, sir, I assure you." 
 
 " Sorry to hear it, for the borrowers' sakes," was 
 the reply. " But you must manage £750 for me 
 somehow or other. As you see, I didn't stay down 
 at Goodwood for the last day, for fear of making 
 matters worse." 
 
 "Ah!" sighed Mr. Aaronson. "That was pru- 
 dent. It is not every backer who knows when he 
 has lost enough. But about this £750, Mr. Griffin. 
 I can't do it, and that's the fact." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Morley Griffin, blankly. 
 "You can't do it ? But, confound it all, man, you 
 must do it ! I "m £"750 short on my book, and the 
 money must be paid on Monday." 
 
 " Sorry to hear it, sir," said the Jew, shaking his 
 head slowl)-, "but it can't l)e done." 
 
 " You did the other bills fast enough," protested 
 Griffin, " and 30U renewed them, knowing perfectly 
 well that, in six months' time, I shall come into 
 £16,000. You hold my paper now for /ijaoo." 
 
 "Quite so, sir," answered Mr. Aaronson, gravely.
 
 46 Dartmoor. 
 
 " I hold, as you say, your renewed bills for £1,200, 
 but they are very dangerous security. My solicitor 
 has carefully examined your uncle's Will, under 
 which you inherit ;^i6,ooo upon attaining your 
 twenty-third birthday " 
 
 " Well ? " interrupted the borrower. " Isn't the 
 Will all right, and the money all right ? " 
 
 "Yes," assented the Jew, hesitatingly, "but the 
 clauses restraining you from anticipating the legacy 
 are more stringent than I thought. The Law Courts 
 have a knack nowadays of enforcing the wishes of 
 a testator, and I am advised that were my claims 
 disputed, I might come off second-best." 
 
 " Confound it all, man ! " ejaculated Griffin, 
 hotly. " Do you suppose I would take refuge behind 
 a clause in a Will, to back out of paying you ? " 
 
 " I do not doubt your good intentions for one 
 moment," was the rejoinder ; " nor do I refer to 
 the clause whereby you forfeit everything should 
 you " and the Jew paused in some confusion. 
 
 " Should I disgrace the name I bear," put in the 
 young man, flushing hotly. " Very good of you, I 
 must say, to overlook that contingency."
 
 Raising the Wind. 47 
 
 " But this apart," continued Mr. Aaronson, with 
 an awkward bow, " accidents might happen, and, 
 to put the matter simply, £1,200 is quite as much 
 as I care to risk, Mr. Gritfin, upon your own name 
 alone." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you refuse to lend me 
 this £750?" demanded Griffin, starting angrily to 
 his feet. 
 
 *' ' Refuse ' is a harsh term, sir," answered the 
 money-lender, soothingly. " Say rather that I 
 cannot see my way to lending it without a second 
 name upon the bill. If one of your friends — Mr. 
 Hugh Darrell, for instance " 
 
 " Confound your impudence ! " interrupted 
 Griffin, fiercely. "Do you suppose I'm going to 
 ask Mr. Darrell to back my bill ? I'd see you 
 hanged first! If you won't take my paper, I'll try 
 someone else. You're not the only money-lender 
 in London." 
 
 And, jamming his hat viciously upon his head, 
 the youthful plunger strode to the door. 
 
 " One moment, Mr. Griffin," said the Jew calmly. 
 *' As you say, I am not the only money-lender in
 
 48 Dartmoor. 
 
 London ; but, for your own sake, let me advise you 
 not to hawk your name about. Perhaps you are 
 not aware that there is a system of communication 
 between loan offices, and that if I am referred to 
 I am bound to state what I know of your affairs ? 
 Try, if you insist upon so doing. But you may take 
 my word for it that you will merely be put off for the 
 usual ' inquiries,' and that these inquiries will block 
 you." 
 
 "Bosh!" was the only comment vouchsafed to 
 this prediction, as Morley Griffin strode off upon 
 his money-hunting mission. 
 
 With a grim chuckle Mr. Aaronson went to his 
 telephone, which he kept busy for fully twenty 
 minutes ; and, before his late visitor had reached a 
 second office, a warning word was swiftly circulating 
 throughout the money-lending fraternity. 
 
 That evening Morley Griffin was forced to confess 
 to himself that he was beaten. Everywhere he had 
 tried, the reply had been the same : " Yes, certainly ; 
 nothing could be easier. If he would call again in 
 three days' time, so as to allow the necessary interval 
 for infjuiries no doubt the loan would be granted."
 
 Raising ike Wind. 49 
 
 Three days ! And he required the money, absolutely 
 and at the latest, by noon on Monday. Aaronson 
 was right, after all. What the deuce was to be done ? 
 Tormented by this problem, he was making his way 
 moodily enough towards his rooms in Clarges Street 
 when he encountered Hugh Darrell. 
 
 " Halloa, Griffin ! " exclaimed the latter. 
 "What's up? You look as though matters had 
 taken a wrong turn." 
 
 " So they have," assented Griffin, " and a devilish 
 bad one, too. I have been wasting the day amongst 
 the 60 per cent, fraternity. For some reason or 
 other Aaronson has grown shy about discounting 
 my paper, and threatens to block me with the rest 
 of the tribe. I believe he can do it, too ; and I can 
 see no way out of the mess, for I must have £750 by 
 Monday." 
 
 Hugh Darrell smiled — the habitual cynical smile. 
 " Nonsense, my dear fellow," he said, quietly. 
 "There's a way out of every difficulty, if one can 
 only find it. Did Aaronson suggest no such way ? " 
 
 " Why, yes," assented Griffin, flushing slightly, 
 
 " he did. He said that if I got a good name " 
 
 4
 
 50 
 
 Dartmoor. 
 
 " Mine, for instance ? " interrupted Darrell, with 
 a laugh that was half sneer. 
 
 " Yes, he mentioned yours. But, of course, I 
 told him that was out of the question." 
 
 "Did you?" was Darrell's comment. "Then 
 you should have asked me first. I would lend you 
 the money myself, but that the season, followed 
 by this confounded Goodwood week, has run me 
 somewhat short, and my yachting cruise will come 
 expensive. But I'll accept your bill right enough." 
 
 "You will, Darrein" exclaimed Griffin, with a 
 sigh of relief. "By Jove! that's deuced good- 
 natured of you, especially considering that " 
 
 " Considering that we were rivals for the hand of 
 the same fair one, eh ? " added Darrell. " Not a bit 
 of it. I am always glad to do a friend a good turn ; 
 and, so far as Miss Conyers is concerned, I have 
 been for playing the game fairly and squarely, and 
 let the best man win. I know the world is kind 
 enough to say some hard things of me ; but then, 
 you see, the devil is not always so black as he is 
 painted." 
 
 "Ton my word, you know," protested Griffin,
 
 Raising the Wind. 51 
 
 " I don't know how to thank you, Darrell. I was in 
 a deuce of a tight corner, because it never occurred 
 to me that Aaronson would raise difficulties. You've 
 taken such a load off my mind that I feel myself a 
 new man." 
 
 " Psha ! my dear fellow, it's a mere trifle," 
 rejoined Darrell, displaying a very perfect set of 
 white teeth. " I'll accept the bill now, if you've got 
 a form ready. No ? Well, as I start to-morrow for 
 Paris by the Club train (leaving my commissioner 
 to settle for me on Monday), have the paper ready 
 at, say, noon. I '11 drop in on you and sign. But 
 I'll ask you not to inflict an interview with Aaronson 
 upon me ; and, by the way, oblige me by not speaking 
 of the matter to any of our set. I have refused, 
 over and over again, to back bills for the other 
 fellows, and they might cut up rough if they knew 
 I had broken my rule for you." 
 
 "All right," said Griffin. " I shall be ready for 
 you at twelve o'clock ; and, once more, ten thousand 
 thanks ! " 
 
 " De rien," replied Darrell, airily. *' I expect to 
 run across the Conyers people at Naples, later on. 
 
 4 *
 
 52 Dartmoor. 
 
 All sorts of kind messages, I suppose, on your part 
 to the fair Ethel ? " 
 
 Morley Griffin winced. It was not pleasant for 
 him to know that his wealthy rival would, perhaps, 
 shortly be playing host on board his yacht to Ethel 
 Conyers, whilst he would be economising down in 
 Somersetshire. However, he remembered certain 
 hopeful words spoken when he had last seen her, 
 and he could scarcely, at that moment, feel irate 
 against th^ man who was befriending him. And so, 
 after some further banter on either side, Hugh Darrell 
 left him. 
 
 " Fool ! " muttered the latter, as he strolled to- 
 wards his club. " Trebly-distilled fool not to divine 
 that I, of all men, would be the last to do him a 
 good turn ! Ah ! Morley Griffin ; in addition to the 
 other wrongs your existence has inflicted upon me, 
 it was an evil day for you when you took it into your 
 pot-hunting head to come between me and Ethel 
 Conyers ! " 
 
 In explanation of the epithet "pot-hunting," it 
 should be stated that Morley Griffin was admittedly 
 one of the best all-round athletes of his day. His
 
 Raising the ]\'ind. 53 
 
 'Varsity record had been one long series of triumphs ; 
 and he had developed such phenomenal muscular 
 power that many good judges would have backed 
 him, with a little special training, against the 
 redoubtable Samson, then in the zenith of his 
 fame. 
 
 Punctually at the hour named, Hugh Darrell 
 called next day upon his youthful rival. The latter 
 was, naturally enough, awaiting him. 
 
 "Now, then," said Darrell briskly, "let's get 
 through with this business smartly, for I 'm in the 
 deuce of a hurry. I have a heap of things to do, 
 and very little time to do them in. Got the bill ? 
 All right. I see you have made it out for ;^862 los. 
 The odd hundred, I suppose, is for interest ; and 
 pretty stiff, too. However, that 's your business. 
 Pass me over a pen. I '11 accept right off, and hurry 
 away." 
 
 So great was his evident haste that he did not 
 even trouble to remove his gloves, but rapidly wrote: 
 " Accepted, payable at London and County Bank, 
 Pall Mall branch — Hugh Darrell," across the 
 paper, shook hands with Griffin, and made for the
 
 54 Dartmoor 
 
 door. Upon the threshold he paused for a moment, 
 and added, as an afterthought : " By the way, this is 
 the 6th. Make the date of the bill the gth, will you? 
 That, with the grace-days, will suit my rent receipts ; 
 for, of course, you understand that if it 's not con- 
 venient to you to meet the bill at maturity, I '11 
 pay it. It would be absurd to renew at 6o per cent., 
 and you can settle up with me afterwards. Good- 
 bye, old fellow ! " And he was gone. 
 
 Griffin post-dated the bill as directed, feeling 
 pretty sure that Aaronson would raise no objection, 
 and then hastened off to the money-lender's office. 
 In a few words he explained how Darrell had come 
 to the rescue, and his reason for post-dating the 
 three days. 
 
 " Ah !" exclaimed the Jew, with a knowing leer, 
 " I knew your friend, Mr. Darrell, would see you 
 through. Never mind the post-dating. Isaac! Make 
 out a cheque in favour of Mr, Morley Griffin for 
 £7oO. Or stay ! I can let you have the money in 
 bank-notes if you prefer it, Mr. Griffin." 
 
 " As you please," was the reply. Whereupon 
 Mr. Aaronson paid him the amount in Bank of
 
 Raisiiii^ the Wind. 55 
 
 England notes. As the young giant sallied forth 
 with these in his pocket, he felt almost inclined to 
 believe that there were some good points even about 
 this arch type of the West-end bill-discounter. 
 
 Monda}^ was a red-letter settling day for the 
 bookmakers. Darrell's horse, H}perion, had carried 
 an enormous amount of club money, and manv an 
 aristocratic plunger, beside the Hon. Bob Dyver, 
 had been compelled to resort to the good offices of 
 the tribe to meet his liabilities. Losers are usually 
 disposed to be harsh in their judgments, and some 
 very hard things were said about Hyperion's 
 defeat. 
 
 " Devilish rum thing," remarked the Hon. Bob, 
 as he and Griffin sauntered back from Tattersall's 
 with depleted pocket-books. " That Darrell's com- 
 missioner seemed to be receiving all the time instead 
 of paying away. It strikes me that, instead of 
 losing, Darrell won heavily over the meeting." 
 
 " He told me that /^2,ooo would not clear him," 
 answered Griffin. 
 
 " Then he told you that which is evidently not 
 a fact," retorted his friend. " Anyhow, he showed
 
 c6 Darinioov. 
 
 considerable discretion in clearing out of town so 
 expeditiously, for some deuced unpleasant rumours 
 are current about Hyperion's final preparation for 
 
 the race." 
 
 " Yes," assented Griffin, indignantly, " and with- 
 out an atom of reason to justify them. The horse 
 was pumped out by that false start, and couldn't 
 quite stay the distance. Darrell explained the 
 whole affair, in a few words, after the race, and 
 you yourself predicted that the long, useless gallop 
 would mar the horse's chance. You remember? 
 I '11 tell you what it is, Bob. Some of you fellows 
 entirely misjudge Hugh Darrell. In spite of his 
 cynical style, there's not a better-natured fellow 
 going when you know him." 
 
 " Can't say I yearn to know him any better than 
 I do," rejoined the Hon. Bob. " He's not my sort 
 at all. But there ! I know you are infatuated with 
 him, so we'll drop the subject. What say you to a 
 bit of a fly round to-night amongst the shows? 
 We 're both leaving town to-morrow for the stubble, 
 so it 's our last chance." 
 
 ''All right," assented Griffin. " Dalrymple is
 
 Raining the M'imL 57 
 
 dining with mc at eight. Join us, and we can go 
 where you please afterwards." 
 
 " Agreed," said his friend. " I particularly want 
 you to have a try at that German strong man's 
 weights — Samson, he calls himself. Most of us 
 fancy you could make him sit up." 
 
 " You fellows make a tall mistake about me," 
 protested Griffin modestly. 
 
 "Tall enough, certainly, if it is a mistake," 
 laughed the little patrician, glancing at his com- 
 panion's towering stature. 
 
 " Perhaps with exercise and a couple of months' 
 steady training," explained Griffin, " I could do 
 most of the weight-lifting business ; but to tackle 
 a professional at the fag-end of a London season 
 would be sheer folly. I doubt if I could put up a 
 hundred-weight, fairly, at the present moment, in 
 one hand." 
 
 "Poor weakling! "chuckled the Hon. Bob. "Well, 
 you must go into training down in the countr}', 
 that 's all, and show these German chaps that they 
 can't have it all their own way over here. It 's a 
 national disgrace to see a pack of foreigners defy-
 
 58 Dartmoor. 
 
 ing all England in muscularity. Go for them, 
 Morley ! " 
 
 " I might do worse," said Griffin, reciprocating 
 his companion's laugh, "and that seems to be 
 about all I am lit for. Change my name, shave 
 my moustache, and toss hundred-weights about the 
 variety stage, eh ? Well, they say there 's a lot of 
 money in it, and. Heaven knows, I want to make 
 some, if I can. Pity it 's not a gentleman's 
 game ! " 
 
 " Gentleman's game be hanged ! " retorted the 
 Hon. Bob, scornfully. "It's a vast deal more 
 gentlemanly than quill-driving in a Government 
 office or cadging guineas on a city directorate. I 
 only wish I had your biceps. I'd go into training 
 to-morrow." 
 
 " Would you though, really ? " asked Griffin, 
 eagerly. "I never know when you're chaffing, and 
 when you 're in earnest. Do you think seriously 
 that I could do it without falling socially into the 
 position of an acrobat ? " 
 
 The Hon. Bob Dyver was recognised as an 
 authority upon social questions, and indulged in a
 
 Raising the Wind. 59 
 
 self-conscious little cough before he delivered himself 
 of his opinion. 
 
 " Were I you, my dear fellow," he remarked, 
 presently, " and assuming that I made up my mind 
 to tackle the stage, I should view the matter in a 
 practical spirit, and, so long as I remained upon 
 the stage, I should endeavour to live the life of an 
 ordinary mummer." 
 
 "Yes ? " inquired Griftin, to whom this state- 
 ment conveyed no very clear ideas. 
 
 " Of course," continued his adviser, " such a life 
 would be, in many respects, different to that which 
 you and I are now leading, but it seems to me that 
 it ought to be a pleasant one enough by way of a 
 change, and, then, when you 've made your pile, 
 there 's nothing to prevent your falling back into 
 the old grooves, you know. They tell me some of 
 these stars make their ^10,000 a year." 
 
 Visions of wealth and of Ethel lioated through 
 Griffin's brain. 
 
 " Well," he said, " the matter is worth thinking 
 over. There can be no harm in training a bit, 
 anyhow."
 
 6o Dartmoor 
 
 "That's the idea!" exclaimed the Hon. Bob, 
 who had a sort of craze to see the obnoxious Teutons 
 taken down by an EngHshman. " You 're not 
 compelled to go in for the show business regularly 
 if you find you don't like it ; but do, for Heaven's 
 sake, take the conceit out of these foreigners!" 
 
 And thus it came to pass that the young Hercules 
 went in for pretty hard training during the next 
 three months, and developed muscles calculated to 
 make Samson himself tremble for his supremacy.
 
 CHAPTER V . 
 
 BETRAYED. 
 
 THE time sped by swiftly, as time has a habit 
 of doing when one has a bill to meet ; and, at 
 the end of three months, Morley Griffin awoke to 
 the fact that his economising had not resulted in 
 enabling him to pay in £^62 los. to Hugh Darrell's 
 account. Under ordinary circumstances, he would 
 have applied to Aaronson for a renewal, since his 
 own legacy would be available in less than three 
 months more ; but, bearing in mind Darrell's parting 
 injunctions not to renew, he allowed the bill to take 
 its course. That course took a somewhat queer turn. 
 He received the following letter from Aaronson : — 
 
 "Charles Street, November 12th, 188-. 
 " Dear Sir, — The bill for ^^862 los., drawn by 
 you and purporting to be accepted by Mr. Hugh 
 Darrell, has just been returned by that gentleman's 
 bankers, indorsed : ' Signature unlike. Refer to 
 acceptor.' I hasten to bring this extraordinary 
 
 61
 
 62 Dartmoor. 
 
 circumstance to your notice, and to request your 
 
 immediate attention thereto. 
 
 " Your obedient servant, 
 
 "Jacob Aaronson. 
 " Morley Griffin, Esq." 
 
 Griffin's first impulse upon reading this notice 
 was to laugh. 
 
 "This comes of writing with one's gloves on," 
 was his mental comment. " I'll just run up to town 
 and explain. I daresay Darrell's signature was 
 somewhat irregular." 
 
 Mr. Aaronson listened with a very grave face 
 whilst Griffin told him how, as he supposed, the 
 alleged dissimilarity in handwriting had been caused. 
 
 " If you saw Mr. Darrell sign," he remarked, with 
 .a slight but obvious emphasis on the conjunction, 
 " that, of course, must be the explanation." 
 
 "If I saw him sign!" repeated Griffin, hotly. 
 " \Miat the deuce do you mean? I've told you 
 already that he accepted in my presence. Do you 
 doubt my word ? " 
 
 " I doubt nothing, sir," was the dry reply. "The 
 bank does all the doubting. However, Mr. Darrell
 
 Betrayed. 63 
 
 is now in Paris, and I have sent my clerk to him 
 with the bill. So it will be all right." 
 
 Griffin left the office, still rather indignant at the 
 Jew's tone, but consoling himself by the reflection 
 that, Darrell being in Paris, a few hours would set 
 matters right. 
 
 Next morning, whilst he was at breakfast, a Mr. 
 Garrett was announced, and quietly entered the 
 room. 
 
 '' Mr. Morley Griffin ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes," was the reply. " I am Morley Griffin." 
 
 "Very sorry, sir, but I have my duty to perform," 
 said the visitor, producing an ominous-looking docu- 
 ment. " This is a warrant for your arrest, upon a 
 charge of forgery." 
 
 " What ! " cried Griffin, starting to his feet. "A 
 warrant for my arrest, upon a charge of forgery ! 
 You're mad ! " 
 
 " Like enough, there's a mistake somewhere, sir," 
 said the detective, with a ring of something very like 
 pity in his voice, "but it's not in the warrant. 
 That 's all in proper form, as you can see for yourself, 
 and it's my duty to arrest you." Then, seeing the
 
 64 Dartmoor. 
 
 angry gleam in the young man's eyes, he added : 
 " It's useless to attempt resistance, sir; I have help 
 outside. Best, for your own sake, avoid a scene and 
 come quietly." 
 
 That there was some horrible, stupid mistake 
 was, of course, quite clear to Morley Griffin. More- 
 over, he had himself a gentleman's aversion to what 
 the detective called a " scene," and he at once 
 decided to accompany the officer. He had, however, 
 no stomach left for breakfast, for which he substituted 
 a brandy-and-soda, invited his captor to help himself 
 (which he did), and announced himself as ready to 
 start. Hailing a hansom, they drove to Bow Street. 
 
 Then, for the first time, Morley Griffin reahsed 
 that he had been betrayed. The evidence taken w^as 
 short, but more than enough to justify the remand 
 for which the police applied, and which the magis- 
 trate unhesitatingly granted. Hugh Darrell had 
 flatly disowned his alleged acceptance of the bill, the 
 handwriting of which he had declared to be an 
 indifferent imitation of his. He was actually ill in 
 bed, but was expected to be well enough to travel to 
 London in a few days. Hence the remand.
 
 Betrayed. 65 
 
 The prisoner, in reply to the usual question and 
 caution, passionately denied the monstrous charge, 
 and was proceeding to give an exact account of what 
 had really occurred, when the magistrate interrupted 
 him by remarking that, as he had decided to grant 
 the remand, the accused had better obtain legal 
 assistance at that stage of the case. 
 
 Morley Griffin's eyes flashed ominously and his 
 strong hands gripped the rail of the dock in which 
 he stood. A wild impulse came upon him to wrench 
 the iron rail from its fastenings and, with it as a 
 weapon, to vindicate his right to freedom. But he 
 controlled himself sufficiently to enquire if he was to 
 be detained as a prisoner until Hugh Darrell should 
 arrive to add perjury to his treachery. 
 
 " Of course you will be detained in custody," was 
 the reply. "That is what a remand means. And 
 the nature of the case does not admit of bail. Next 
 case ! " 
 
 The gaoler beckoned Griffin to follow him, but he 
 refused to move. 
 
 "Hear me, sir! " he said to the magistrate. " I 
 am accused of a crime of which, as Heaven is my
 
 66 Dartmoor. 
 
 judge, I am as innocent as you are ! Why should I 
 be treated hke a criminal ? " 
 
 " If you are innocent, your innocence will, in due 
 course, be made clear," the magistrate answered. 
 " You are remanded for three days." 
 
 " Come along, sir," whispered the gaoler, not 
 unkindly. "You can't gain anything by riling his 
 worship, and it is no use attempting resistance." 
 
 For a few moments Griffin felt strongly inclined 
 to test this last assertion, but common-sense again 
 prevailed, and turning upon his heel, he followed 
 his conductor to a cell wherein he was promptly 
 locked up. 
 
 Not to dwell needlessly upon this stage of the 
 narrative, suffice it to say that, three days later, 
 Hugh Darrell appeared in the witness-box, and, with 
 seeming reluctance, repeated his Paris depositions 
 upon oath. The court, upon this occasion, was 
 crowded with fashionable on-lookers, including the 
 Hon. Bob Dyver, whom nothing could persuade to 
 believe in liis friend's guilt, and who was eventually 
 tiwned out for his angry denunciation of the entire 
 proceedings. Many persons remarked that Darrell
 
 Betrayed. Gy 
 
 never once looked at the prisoner, whose eyes, 
 blazing with passionate scorn, never left his accuser's 
 face. In the end, Griffin was formally committed 
 for trial ; nor, despite his solicitor's appeals, would 
 the magistrate consent to accept bail. 
 
 At the trial, the evidence for the Crown was over- 
 whelming. Hugh Darrell, still affecting to be an 
 unwilling witness, and playing the part with consum- 
 mate art, made admissions, rather than statements, 
 fatal to the prisoner. The latter, he acknowledged, 
 had once sounded him as to his willingness to accept 
 a bill ; but, although they were on terms of consider- 
 able intimacy, he had declined upon principle. 
 Griffin had told him that Aaronson would at once 
 advance money upon his (Darrell's) signature. Upon 
 the date borne by the bill now produced, he was 
 actually in Turin, upon his way to Naples. Cross- 
 examined, he affirmed that he had never in all his life 
 signed a blank bill or cheque. 
 
 Jacob Aaronson spoke as to his relations with 
 the prisoner, who, being alread}- considerably in 
 his debt, had endeavoured to borrow a further sum 
 of £"750, upon his own personal security, in order 
 
 5 ''■
 
 68 Dartmoor. 
 
 to pay certain losses incurred over the Goodwood 
 Cup. This proposal he had declined, but he had 
 suggested Mr. Hugh Darrell's name as being quite 
 good enough, and he had subsequently discounted 
 what he had believed to be that gentleman's accept- 
 ance. Cross-examined, he swore that he would 
 himself be at the loss of the £7^0 advanced. 
 
 Some experts in handwriting were called ; but 
 their evidence was conflicting, as it usually is. And, 
 indeed, Hugh Darrell's direct repudiation of the 
 document made their opinions appear as of little or 
 no importance. 
 
 Against all this, Griffin's counsel could do little 
 more than point out that the entire case for the 
 prosecution rested upon the bare assertion of Hugh 
 Darrell, and that it was extremely improbable that 
 a gentleman, occupying the social position held by 
 the prisoner, should be guilty of so base a crime as 
 forgery. He called many witnesses of good stand- 
 ing, and notably the Hon. Bob Dyver, to avow their 
 utter disbelief in the possibility of Morley Griffin's 
 guih ; but, as the judge drily remarked, these opinions 
 were not rebutting evidence.
 
 Betrayed. bg 
 
 Morley's counsel, doubtless, did his best, but he 
 somehow left an impression that he knew he was 
 fight int; a hopeless case, and some persons thought 
 that his manner did not indicate entire belief on his 
 part in his client's innocence. Moreover his experi- 
 ence of courts had taught him the disfavour with 
 which judges view any defence based upon a suggested 
 conspiracy against a prisoner ; and even had Morley 
 been free himself to give evidence, he could have 
 offered nothing stronger than his assertion of his own 
 innocence and of Darrell's treachery. Long before 
 the judge had concluded his summing up, it was clear 
 that a verdict of "Guilty" was a foregone conclu- 
 sion ; and this the jury returned without even leaving 
 the box, the foreman remarking that they were not 
 unanimous in recommending the prisoner to mercy. 
 
 The judge, one of the severer sort, apparently 
 did not feel disposed to lean to the side of clemency. 
 He wound up a pithy discourse upon the evils of 
 extravagance, and consequent inability to resist temp- 
 tation, by passing a sentence of seven years' penal 
 servitude. 
 
 All eyes were ri\etcd upon Morley Griffin as the
 
 70 Daitinooy 
 
 dread words were pronounced. Standing erect in 
 the dock, his eyes riveted upon the half-seated, half- 
 crouching figure of Hugh Darrell, his broad chest 
 heaving and his mouth firm!}- set, he scarcely seemed 
 to realise at first that the sentence had gone forth 
 which branded him as a felon. Then, with a sudden 
 movement and a short, sharp cry, he hurled himself 
 from the dock upon the barristers' table, at which 
 sat his foe. Darrell heard the cry, and looking up, 
 read his doom in those vengeful eyes. Then, quick 
 as thought and with the instinct of self-preservation, 
 he slid beneath the table. Two policemen, in charge 
 of the dock and momentaril}- thrown off their guard, 
 at once followed their prisoner and a terrific struggle 
 ensued. They two were no match for the }'Oung 
 giant, who forced his way to the spot where Darrell 
 had been sitting and dived under the table after him. 
 His custodians, however, managed to seize hold of 
 his legs, and, several more constables rushing to their 
 assistance, between them all they succeeded in drag- 
 ging him back, his right hand securely gripping his 
 enemy by the throat ! 
 
 The scene which ensued baffles description.
 
 Betrayed. 71 
 
 Shouts and screams resounded on all sides, whilst 
 the spectators eagerly craned forward their necks to 
 witness the desperate struggle. The j udge, speechless 
 with indignant amazement, could only stare helplessly 
 at the surging mass of policemen, barristers, the 
 recently-sentenced prisoner, and the witness whom he 
 was surely strangling. Do what they would, the 
 constables were unable to loosen that deadly grip 
 until they had choked their prisoner himself into a 
 state of insensibility. Then Hugh Darrell was borne 
 away, his tongue protruding, his eyes starting from 
 their sockets, and as nearly dead as ever yet was man 
 who afterwards recovered. The man whom he had 
 betrayed was carried away to his cell in but little 
 better plight, for policemen arc not very gentle in 
 their dealings with refractory prisoners. 
 
 For many hours he lay unconscious, and his Brst 
 words, upon returning to life, were, " Did I kill him ! " 
 Ah, me ! Treachery and injustice had commenced 
 their dire work. In place of gay, good-natured, 
 good-tempered Morley Griffin, a sullen, vindictive, 
 dangerous felon had been added to the world. 
 
 Think of him, as he lies in his cell awaiting
 
 J2 Dariiiiouy. 
 
 icni()\al to Pentonville Prison, where, during the first 
 year of his servitude, he will be kept in solitary con- 
 finement to brood over the wrecking of his joyous 
 young life. A convict ! Convicted of a crime of 
 which he is entirely innocent, and which he yet must 
 expiate by seven years of slavery and unspeakable 
 degradation. Torn from everything that life held 
 ])recious ; from liberty, from love ! And by the 
 black-hearted treachery of Hugh Darrell, whose plot, 
 he now clearly sees, had been to separate him for 
 ever from Ethel Conyers. 
 
 As the full measure of all that he had lost and of 
 the hellish future in store for him swept like a fiery 
 blast through his brain, Morley Griffin started to his 
 feet, his face full of a sudden resolve. As yet he 
 wore his own clothes. At any moment he might be 
 taken (jft to Pentonville, where he would have to 
 exchange them for the convict's garb. Surely his 
 best chance of escaping would be between the police- 
 cell and the prison. If he could once gain the street, 
 it would need more than a few constables, on scattered 
 beats, to recapture him. He was strong, aye, strong 
 with a strength which he hardly knew himself; and
 
 ISeti'aycd. 7j 
 
 he was fleet of foot. A glance at the small window 
 which ventilated the cell, showed him that escaj)e in 
 that direction was impossible. He must wait until his 
 gaolers opened his cell-door, ii he could but regam 
 his freedom for even a few hours, he would track 
 down Hugh Darrell and complete the task of killing 
 him. For this was now the one idea which possessed 
 him — to slay his betrayer. 
 
 Presently the cell - door opened and a gaoler 
 entered. 
 
 "The Black Maria is in the yard," he remarked, 
 at the same time producing a pair of handcuffs. 
 "After the way you pla}-ed up in court to-da)-, the 
 orders are to iit the bracelets on in here. Hold out 
 your hands." 
 
 In an instant it Hashed across Griffin's mind that 
 his attempt, if made at all, nuist be made at once ; 
 since, once handcuffed, he would be helpless. With- 
 out the slightest hesitation, therefore, he seized the 
 gaoler in his muscular grasp, hurled him into an 
 opposite corner of the cell, slipped out into the 
 corridor, and shot the bolt which secured the door 
 upon the outside. As he did .so a second turnke\"
 
 74 Dartmoor. 
 
 rushed up and attempted to pinion his arms. Very 
 dehberately Griffin gripped him with his right hand, 
 re-opened the door with his left, and thrust him in to 
 keep company with his comrade. He then again 
 bolted the door, and ran up some stone steps which, 
 he supposed, led to the outer office, and consequently 
 to the street. 
 
 A moment later he found himself in a guard-room 
 confronted by four constables, who, hearing the out- 
 cries of the imprisoned janitors, at once divined the 
 position of affairs and rushed at him together. Had 
 they used their batons, the fugitive's onward career 
 would probably have then and there ended ; but, 
 being four to one, they merely endeavoured to seize 
 him. Vain effort ! The foremost received a sledge- 
 hammer blow between the eyes which brought him 
 down with a crash, and then the young giant hurled 
 himself upon the others. As it happened, they were 
 not especially powerful men, and were utterly incap- 
 able of withstanding the furious onslaught. A 
 second and then a third fell stunned and bleeding, 
 whilst the other ran through an open door, with the 
 evident intention of summoning a reinforcement.
 
 Betrayed. 75 
 
 (jriffin followed him. and found himself in a yard 
 where a prison-van was awaiting its complement of 
 prisoners. 
 
 Beyond the van were two massive closed gates 
 which evidenth' gave upon the street. He knew that, 
 in a few moments, the courtyard would be filled with 
 police, and he cast his eyes despairingly around for 
 some means of egress. A small wicket in the main 
 gate seemed to offer a last hope. Against this he 
 dashed himself furiously, but it defied all his efforts. 
 Then he heard the shrill sound of whistles, followed 
 by the rapid beat of feet upon the paved yard, and 
 he knew that his foes, in overpowering numbers, 
 were upon him. Concentrating all his strength into 
 the blows, he smote the topmost panel of the wicket. 
 There was a crash of splintered wood, and he saw 
 the street and freedom before his eyes ! Through the 
 aperture thus formed he now made a final, desperate 
 effort to force his way. The jagged timber tore his 
 clothes and lacerated his flesh, but, regardless of the 
 pain, he pressed onwards. Then he felt the rough 
 grasp of many strong hands upon his limbs, and 
 know that he was caught like a rat in a trap. He was
 
 76 Dartmoor. 
 
 powerless to move backwards or forwards, and in this 
 position his captors held him until they had firmly 
 bound his legs with rope. He was then dragged 
 back into the yard, where, after a short, sharp struggle, 
 he was handcuffed. A few minutes later, he was 
 thrust, still bound hand and foot, into the prison van. 
 " They '11 settle with you for this up at Penton- 
 ville ! " remarked a constable, grimly. " They 've got 
 a way of their own of dealing with warm members 
 like you, and you 're about the hottest I ever came 
 
 across." 
 
 In due course the van arrived at Pentonville 
 Prison ; and Morley Griffin conmienced his convict 
 career with the reputation of being one of the most 
 dangerous and desperate criminals ever received 
 within its walls.
 
 CHAPTER \T. 
 
 MRS. NESBITT AT HOME. 
 
 WE need not be understood to mean " at home " 
 in the fashionable sense, for Mrs. Nesbitt 
 had no fashionable pretensions whatever ; nor would 
 Laburnum Cottage, Clapham, where she resided, 
 easily have lent itself to the most modest of social 
 functions. When we say that Mrs. Nesbitt was at 
 home we merely mean that, upon the evening of the 
 day of Morley Griffin's trial, she was seated in her 
 back parlour engaged in making up accounts from 
 two portentous - looking ledgers : a small, spare, 
 grey-haired, keen-eyed woman, plainly dressed in 
 black, and whose age might be anything between 
 fifty and sixtv. A woman whom the least careful 
 observer would unhesitatingly set down after a single 
 glance at the aquiline nose and the thin, pursed lips, 
 as possessed of determination and shrewdness in a 
 high degree. 
 
 To her neighbours Mrs. Nesbitt had long been 
 
 77
 
 78 Dartmoor. 
 
 somewhat of a mystery. Many years before she had 
 purchased Laburnum Cottage, where, attended by a 
 single servant older than herself, she had lived a life 
 of almost total seclusion, so far as the neighbourhood 
 was concerned, ever since. Visitors, indeed, she had 
 at frequent intervals from London. It was no un- 
 common thing for fashionably-attired ladies to descend 
 from their coroneted or crested carriages and remain 
 closeted with her for lengthy periods. 
 
 Footmen were occasionally observed to follow 
 their mistresses inside, carrying box-shaped parcels, 
 which were not taken away again. Money, too, 
 Mrs. Nesbitt clearly had, for had she not gradually 
 purchased half-a-dozen houses in the neighbourhood ? 
 But in Clapham she had, in all these years, made no 
 acquaintances, was rarely seen out of doors, paid her 
 accounts weekly through her old servant (who was as 
 unsociable as herself), and, in short, led an existence 
 of mingled respectability and mystery most aggravat- 
 ing to the local gossips. 
 
 Wc have said that, upon the evening of the trial, 
 Mrs. Nesbitt was engaged upon her ledgers ; yet, 
 from the frequent pauses that she made and the look
 
 M/s. Nesbitt at Home. 79 
 
 of expectancy on her shrewd old face, it was clear her 
 thoughts were not wholly in her work. 
 
 " Eight o'clock," she muttered, presently, " and 
 no news yet, though he knows how anxious I am to 
 learn the result. No thought, no consideration for 
 me — as usual," she added, bitterly. " Stay ! I can 
 send Judith for an evening paper." 
 
 Old Judith departed upon this errand, grumbling 
 at the distance from the nearest agency, and returned 
 with a special edition of the Standard, which her 
 mistress proceeded to scan with great eagerness. 
 She quickly found the information she sought, and 
 her eyes gleamed as she read that Morley Griffin had 
 been convicted of forgery and sentenced to seven 
 years' penal servitude. 
 
 "Seven years! " she cried aloud, in her satisfac- 
 tion. "That is good, indeed — more than we hoped 
 for — more than enough for our purpose. Ha ! what 
 is this? Terrible scene in court ! . . ." 
 
 With blanched cheeks she read the highly-sea- 
 soned version, given by the reporter, of the prisoner's 
 murderous onslaught upon his prosecutor. " We 
 understand," the report concluded, "that Mr. Hugh
 
 8o Dartmoor 
 
 Darrell's injuries are such as to cause the gravest 
 anxiety, whilst the prisoner is scarcely in better case." 
 
 The newspaper fell from the old woman's hand, 
 and, for a time, she appeared to be half-stunned by 
 the intelligence. Then she rose to her feet and 
 hastened, with unsteady steps, from the room. 
 
 "Judith!" she cried. " My shawl and bonnet! 
 Quick ! Master Hugh is lying at death's door, and 
 my place is by his side. Quick, woman, I say ! " 
 
 liut, even as Mrs. Nesbitt was hurrying forth in 
 quest of a cab, she ran against a telegraph messenger, 
 who handed her a despatch. 
 
 " Newspaper report exaggerated," it ran. " Un- 
 conscious several hours and nerves unstrung. Am 
 now able to journey in brougham. Prepare room. 
 Shall be down by ten to-night. — Hugh." 
 
 Mrs. Nesbitt was not a piously-inclined woman, 
 nor did she rent a pew. Yet an involuntary " Thank 
 God ! " rose to her pale lips as she read this message. 
 Whatever the rest of the world might think of Hugh 
 Darrell, he was clciirly very dear to this aged recluse. 
 
 A little after the hour specified, he arrived. A 
 white muffler was round his throat, he looked very
 
 Mrs. Nesbiit at Home. 8i 
 
 pale, and his limbs trembled under him ; but his con- 
 dition was not such as to inspire alarm. As a matter 
 of fact, the immediate effects of semi-strangulation 
 rapidly wear off once respiration is restored. 
 
 " There, Martha, that will do ! " he exclaimed, im- 
 patiently, after he had submitted to the old woman's 
 embrace. " There 's no real harm done ; though, had 
 that devil held his grip for another half-minute, you 'd 
 have had the task of laying me out instead of looking 
 after me for a couple of days. I couldn't stand the 
 visitors and inquiries at my rooms, and so I have run 
 down to my old nurse until I am fit to wear a collar 
 again," 
 
 "And right glad your old nurse is to have you 
 with her, Master Hugh," was the reply, uttered in a 
 voice so full of affection and pleasure that old Judith, 
 accustomed only to the sharp tones of reproof or 
 command, stared at her mistress as though wonder- 
 ing where such unwonted sounds had come from. 
 But she soon found other matter to think about, in 
 the preparation of supper, which Darrell's injured 
 throat made it necessary should be of an especiallv 
 delicate description.
 
 82 Dartmoor. 
 
 Over this meal, Mrs. Nesbitt and he discussed 
 recent events in all their bearings, and it at once 
 became evident that a thorough understanding existed 
 between the two. Darrell, whose voice was, naturally, 
 still weak, confined himself to a brief account of the 
 trial and of the struggle in court, and wound up by 
 asking the old nurse for an exact statement of her 
 opinion of matters as they then stood. 
 
 " I can't talk much at present," he remarked ; 
 " but I can listen to what you have to say, and per- 
 haps put you right upon certain points." 
 
 " Very well, Master Hugh," assented Mrs. Nesbitt. 
 " Then I cannot do better than run briefly over the 
 past. That should help to fix our ideas as to the 
 probabilities of the future." 
 
 Darrell nodded. " Go ahead, nurse," he said. 
 
 "Thirty years ago," continued Mrs. Nesbitt, "I, 
 a young widow of small means, was employed by the 
 late Colonel Hewitt Griffin (uncle to this Morley 
 Griffin) to act as nurse to you, then a mere infant, 
 and to bring you up as my own child at Worthing, 
 where I then resided." 
 
 *' From which I have always concluded," put in
 
 Mrs. Nesbitt at Houic. 83 
 
 Darrell, bitterly, " that Hewitt Griffin was my father 
 and I myself illegitimate. But who the deuce was 
 my mother ? " 
 
 "The Colonel always observed extreme reticence 
 on that point," was the reply. " Illegitimate you 
 certainly were, since Colonel Griffin was never mar- 
 ried, and eventually died, constituting his nephew, 
 Morley Griffin, his principal heir, under certain spe- 
 cified conditions, the most important of which were 
 that he should not succeed to the capital of the 
 inheritance until he attained the age of twenty-three, 
 and that he should, up to that age, have done nothing 
 to disqualify himself from claiming the position of a 
 gentleman." 
 
 " Such as committing forgery, for instance," ob- 
 served Darrell, with a sinister laugh, which was 
 echoed by the old woman. 
 
 " Well," she resumed, "you remained with me 
 until you were old enough to go to school — first here, 
 and then in France and Germany — for it must be ad- 
 mitted that your father spared no expense to give you 
 a first-class education. I then accepted the position 
 of housekeeper to Colonel Griffin, who, although he
 
 84 Dartmoor. 
 
 provided for you liberally, for some reason steadily 
 refused ever to see you. This position I retained 
 until his death. By the same Will which made his 
 nephew his heir, he left me an annuity of ;^ioo ' for 
 lon^ and faithful service,' and a sum of ;£"i,ooo in 
 trust for you (whom he described as ' her son Hugh') 
 until your twenty-fifth birthday. I had saved some 
 money, and forthwith established myself here, where 
 I embarked upon business as a confidential financial 
 agent, and with considerable success. I invested 
 your thousand pounds in this business, and, as you 
 know, I was able to hand you ;^3,500 the day you 
 were twenty-fix'C. As you know, too, I have never 
 been backward in helping you further out of my own 
 resources, and, I must say, you have shown your- 
 self capable of taking your own part in the world 
 under the fresh name you selected. Ah ! Master 
 Hugh ! Those are proud moments for me when I 
 see your name figuring amongst those of high-born 
 guests at some grand entertainment." 
 
 " Yes," assented Darrell, complacently, " I have 
 contrived to keep up the appearance of being a 
 wealthy man, and the world has taken me at my
 
 Mrs. Neshitt at Hume. 85 
 
 own valuation. By the way, that Hyperion coup 
 came just in the nick of time; the expenses of the 
 season had run me down rather low just then. And 
 what a magnificent coup it was ! I put the horse 
 about at the clubs as a moral certainty for the Cup, 
 got my commissioner to lay against him all he could, 
 painted Hyperion's bit with mix vomica, and hey 
 presto! the trick was done ! And what trouble I had 
 to persuade Aaronson to advance me ;^8oo to buy 
 the horse ! Why, I cleared 5^8,000 over that Good- 
 wood Cup, and some of the silly gulls (including our 
 convict Morley Griffin himself) sympathised with me 
 over my supposed losses ! Was it not splendid ? " 
 
 "Yes, Master Hugh," chuckled the nurse, "you 
 managed it well. But," she added, more seriously, 
 "was it wise to waste so much money hiring that 
 yacht at Naples ? " 
 
 " Certainly it was, Martha," answered Darrell. " I 
 had an object in view — to smooth the way for my 
 intended marriage with Ethel Conyers, by figuring 
 as a rich man in the eyes of her mother. Now that 
 Morley Griffin is removed from my path, I have only 
 to choose a judicious moment to propose, to be
 
 86 Dartmoor. 
 
 accepted. I think I played those cards well. And 
 now, nurse, tell me, how do you think we stand as 
 regards the Will ? Aaronson seems doubtful whether 
 the Courts will uphold the forfeiture clause." 
 
 "Then Aaronson is a bigger fool than I thought 
 him!" answered Mrs. Nesbitt, angrily. "What! 
 Colonel Griffin expressly provides that in the event 
 of Morley Griffin dying without issue before attaining 
 the age of twenty-three, or in the case of his com- 
 mitting any act unfitting him for the society of 
 gentlemen, the whole of the money shall go to me 
 with reversion to }ou (whom he again describes as 
 ' Hugh, son of my said housekeeper, Martha Nesbitt '). 
 Morley Griffin becomes a convicted forger. How 
 can the Courts override so plain a forfeiture of 
 his claim ? As well say at once that it is useless 
 making a Will at all ! " 
 
 "It sounds reasonable, certainly, as you put it," 
 assented Darrell. " I suppose," he added drily, 
 " when )'ou come into all this money, Martha, you 11 
 let me have some of it to go on with ? " 
 
 " For any reasonable purpose, yes, Master Hugh," 
 answered the old nurse, a little stiffly, for money
 
 Mrs. Nesbitt at Home. 87 
 
 was very dear to her heart. "In any case, you'll 
 come into everything at my death." 
 
 "Pshaw, nurse!" exclaimed Darrell, casting a 
 keen glance at the old woman's wiry figure. " You 're 
 good for another twenty years at least ; you '11 bury 
 me, most likely." 
 
 Something in the speaker's tone grated upon the 
 nurse's ear, despite the almost jocular sense of the 
 words. Could it be that this man, whom she had 
 reared and watched over, and loved from infancy, 
 secretly cared more for her possessions than for 
 herself ? 
 
 " I trust not, Master Hugh," she said, with a 
 quivering of the thin lips. " My dearest hope is that, 
 when my time comes, you may be there to close my 
 eyes." 
 
 " The sooner the better," muttered Darrell, as 
 the old woman hastih' withdrew upon pretext of 
 assisting Judith in preparing his bedroom. " But 
 my experience is that these lean old females are 
 immortal. ... I wonder how Morley Griffin feels 
 now ? Ha ! ha ! It was a bold game and well 
 played ! That post-dating the bill floored him
 
 88 Dartmoor. 
 
 utterly, especially as old Aaronson gave him notes in- 
 stead of a cheque. 'Cute old fox, that. Let me see. 
 Seven years. That means about six years, I believe, 
 if he behaves well and becomes entitled to a ticket- 
 of-leave. Ah, well ! He must not be allowed to 
 play the part of the model convict, and he certainly 
 did not establish a reputation for docility to-day. I 
 hear he half-killed four policemen this evening before 
 they got him into the van, to say nothing of the 
 fight in court. No doubt he could be stirred up into 
 insubordination, later on, resulting in additions to 
 his sentence. I have even heard of deaths occurring 
 unexpectedly at Portland and Dartmoor. I have 
 plenty of time, anyhow, to inquire into these prison 
 secrets ; but I must not forget that, if ever Morley 
 Griffin regained his freedom, it would go hard with 
 me. Ugh ! What Titanic strength the fellow has ! 
 I fancy I can feel his grip upon my throat, curse 
 him ! "
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " PROBATION. 
 
 ALTHOUGH this story is called " Dartmoor," 
 and is, in a sense, a convict story, it is not 
 proposed to dwell, at any length, upon the every- 
 day incidents of convict life. Those interested in 
 such details will find them abundantly in Charles 
 Reade's novel. It's Never Too Late to Mend, and in 
 other works written h\ men who have actuallv 
 served sentences. A short chapter will, therefore, 
 suffice to describe Morley Griffin's experiences during 
 what is officially termed the " probationar}- " period 
 of his incarceration. 
 
 Having exchanged his own clothes for those 
 pro\ided by the prison regulations, the newl}--made 
 convict ^vas marched up several flights of stairs and 
 locked up in the cell which was destined to be his 
 abode during the ensuing nine months. The furniture 
 of this small apartment was scanty and of the simplest. 
 A stretcher to sleep upon, a stool, a small table, a 
 metal water-jug, a slate, pencil, and Bible ; these 
 
 Sg
 
 go Dartmooy 
 
 were the fittings. Some bread, and a weak, tasteless 
 mess of gruel were brought to him for supper ; and 
 he was left to his own meditations until 6 o'clock 
 next mornmg. 
 
 Then there followed a routine of cleaning out his 
 cell, of oakum-picking by wa}- of work (fancy putting 
 a man who could up-end several hundred-weights 
 to pick oakum ! ) ; of more gruel by way of break- 
 fast ; of a solitary promenade up and down a 
 corridor for an hour by way of exercise ; of bread, 
 meat, and the water it had been boiled in, by way 
 of dinner ; of more oakum-picking, more gruel, 
 and finally twelve hours' sleep or meditation to wind 
 up with. From morn till night not a soul did he see 
 except the warder who brought his food and his 
 oakum, and even with him he was forbidden to speak. 
 
 For a couple of days, he was too crushed by 
 mental anguish to pay much heed to aught else. He 
 did what he was told to do quietly and mechanically, 
 picked his oakum as well as he could, ate his allow- 
 ance of food, and slept when the recollection of his 
 wrongs would allow him to do so. 
 
 Upon the third day he was brought before the
 
 "Probation.'' 91 
 
 governor of the prison, who briefly told him that 
 any infraction of the rules placarded in his cell 
 would be followed by condign punishment : that 
 he had arrived with an evil reputation for violence 
 and insubordination, and that he would best consult 
 his own interests by a tranquil and respectful be- 
 haviour. After which exhortation he was marched 
 back to his cell. 
 
 But, a few hours later, he was visited by the 
 chaplain, and \\ ith him he was permitted to converse. 
 The reverend gentleman listened to what he had to 
 say, but made it abundantly clear that he did not 
 believe his story. Upon his side, he favoured him 
 with some stereotyed remarks upon the wickedness 
 of sin, and the penalties of unrighteousness. Both 
 these interviews were clearly calculated to produce a 
 deep impression, and were in strict conformit}' with 
 the regulations sanctioned by the Directors of Her 
 Majesty's prisons. But, that same evening, he had 
 a third interview (which the said regulations would 
 by no means have sanctioned), with the warder who 
 had special charge of the story upon which his cell 
 was situated.
 
 92 
 
 Dartmoor 
 
 "I've seen a friend of yours outside," remarked 
 this official, by way of preface, " and from what he 
 tells me, I feel disposed to take an interest in making 
 things a bit comfortable for you." 
 
 "A friend of mine?" repeated Morley, eagerly. 
 "Who is it? Mr. Dyver?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," replied the warder, "that's his name 
 right enough — the Honourable Robert Dyver. And 
 a very pleasant, free-handed gentleman he is, too. 
 He gave me a letter for you " 
 
 " Dear old Bob ! " interrupted Morley. " Where 
 is it?" 
 
 " Here it is, sir," was the reply. " If you'll come 
 along to the store-room, you can have a bit of some- 
 thing to eat whilst you're reading it." 
 
 The store-room referred to was at the end of the 
 landing, and thither the friendly warder, Ricketts by 
 name, conducted the prisoner. Upon a table stood 
 a solid, appetising supper, flanked by a large bottle 
 of stout. 
 
 " There you are, sir," remarked Mr. Ricketts. 
 "That's the best I can do for you this evening. 
 There ain't much chance of the chief coming round,
 
 ''Probation.'''' 93 
 
 but I '11 f^o and keep watch whilst you have a feed. 
 If you hear mc cough twice, scoot back to your cell 
 as quick as you can. I can't give you more than 
 twenty minutes anyhow." 
 
 Morley's first care was to read the letter, which 
 ran thus : — 
 
 " Dear M., — Keep your heart up, old chap, and 
 rest assured that no efforts will be spared to unmask 
 the scoundrelly plot, of which }'ou ha\e been the 
 victim. I insulted H. D. publicly in the club this 
 morning, and, had he not looked so pulled down 
 after the choking you gave him in court, I would 
 have thrashed him. Trust me, no one shall take his 
 view of the case whilst I am about. I am sure 
 everything will come out right soon. 
 
 " Meanwhile, I have been studying the economy 
 of Her Majesty's gaols, and, as I got my information 
 froin the lips of a ticket-of-leave man, whom I 
 managed to ferret out in Covent Garden, I can rely 
 upon it. You are now being subjected to the ' silent 
 system ' in Pentonville, as a sort of special training 
 for Portland or Dartmoor, and I know from my 
 informant exactly what }'ou ha\c to undergo. But 
 it seems that }our position can be vasth- improved
 
 g4 Dartmoor. 
 
 by bribing the warder who has especial charge of you, 
 and I have managed, after some httle trouble, to 
 discover and arrange matters with this individual. 
 You must simply consider yourself as being on board 
 ship for the time being and this fellow as a steward. 
 He undertakes (for a consideration satisfactory to us 
 both) to supply you with anything and everything 
 you need in the way of food, liquor, and. such other 
 luxuries as it may be possible for him to smuggle in. 
 Of course, he will post letters for you, and receive 
 replies at his own address. Let me know that you 
 get this safely, and that R. acts up to the mark. 
 
 " Yours as ever, D." 
 
 This was indeed a cheering letter, and Morley 
 read it through twice before he burnt it (for fear of 
 accidents) in the flame of the candle. Then he made 
 an excellent meal, and was just linishing the stout 
 when Rickctts returned to warn him that the time 
 was up. 
 
 After this, except for the galling restraint of 
 prison life, Morley had little to complain of; and 
 the frequent, hopeful letters of his staunch friend, 
 Bob Dyver, by begetting confidence in his speedy
 
 " Probation.^' 95 
 
 release, made even confinement not wholly unen- 
 durable. He had his Standard with his breakfast, 
 and his Pall Mall Gazette every eveninj^ ; he ordered 
 what he pleased (within reasonable limits) to eat, 
 and, had he chosen, he might have indulged freely in 
 whisky. I'jnt, in point of fact, his j^eriod of training 
 had broken him off stimulants and tobacco, and he 
 was far too sensible to revive such dangerous habits. 
 
 But, as the time sped on, the drear}- monotony of 
 his life grew more and more irksome. Bob Dyver's 
 letters, it is true, continued to breathe a hopeful 
 strain ; but hope too long deferred, as we all know, 
 niaketh the heart sick, and at times poor Morley's 
 was very sick indeed within him. Neither of Hugh 
 Darrell nor of Ethel Conyers had his friend been 
 able to obtain any news. Both appeared temporaril}- 
 to have disappeared from the ken of society. 
 
 The friendly terms upon which he stood with 
 Warder Ricketts naturally precluded him from 
 forming any plan of escape from Penton\ille, but 
 he sometimes discussed the possibilities of getting 
 away should he be sent on to Dartmoor. 
 
 "Well, sir, it's just this wa),"' the warder would
 
 g6 Dartmoor. 
 
 remark. " If your friend don't get your sentence 
 reversed afore you leave here, it 'pears to me you '11 
 have to serve it right through. And, of course, down 
 at Dartmoor or Portland you won't be comfortable 
 like you are here. They're regular hells on earth 
 to live in, sir, and no mistake ; and even a friendly 
 warder can't do much for a prisoner down there. So 
 if you can fix up an}' plan to escape after you leave 
 Pentonville, do it — and good luck attend you, sir." 
 
 The governor, chief warder, chaplain, and other 
 superior officials of the prison were at first con- 
 siderably surprised at the orderly conduct of the 
 prisoner, who had come to them with such a terrible 
 reputation for ferocity and recklessness ; but as the 
 time wore on, and Ricketts' reports were invariably 
 favourable, they gradually settled down to the com- 
 fortable belief that Morley Griffin was a notable 
 and satisfactory instance of the beneficent results 
 produced by the silent system — a system invented 
 and championed by all those responsible for the 
 conduct and safe-keeping of criminals. No doubt 
 these high authorities are right ; they certainly have 
 ample experience to guide them in forming a correct
 
 "Probation." g; 
 
 opinion. But it is not quite clear to the inexperienced 
 mind why, after seekinj^ to reform the evil-doer, by 
 isolatin<( him during nine months from other evil- 
 doers, he should afterwards be sent to serve out the 
 rest of his sentence amonj^^st gan^s of the very worst 
 criminals the country produces. One could more 
 easily understand the reforming process taking place 
 during the last nine months of a sentence, if, indeed, 
 it be expedient to herd criminals together at all. 
 The cynic will, of course, declare that no such thing 
 as reformation is intended at all ; that to diminish 
 crime would simply deprive many of the gaolers and 
 chaplains of billets which they now enjoy : and that 
 the silent system precedes the University curriculum 
 in crime at Portland or Dartmoor simply in order to 
 break the convict's spirit, and make him hail cxcn 
 chain-gang work as a relief from the deadly monotony 
 of Pentonville. lUit then, of course, cynics always 
 say unpleasant things. 
 
 It must not be supposed that Morley enjoyed a 
 monopoly of Warder Ricketts' good offices. Oh, 
 dear, no ! That astute official had half-a-do/cn other 
 paying clients amongst the forty prisoners entrusted
 
 98 Dartmoor. 
 
 to his charge ; and his profits between January and 
 December probably exceeded the annual stipend of 
 the governor himself. This latter functionary made 
 an official round of inspection once a week, and 
 Mr. Ricketts always knew beforehand exactly when 
 to expect him. Upon these occasions the discipline 
 observed was more than Spartan in its severity. 
 A couple of prisoners, armed with brooms, were 
 stationed far apart from each other, and, at the right 
 moment, were discovered sweeping a spoonful of dust 
 carefully saved for the purpose. 
 
 " 'Tshun ! " Mr. Ricketts would bawl, with every 
 appearance of being taken wholly by surprise by 
 the great man's visit. " ' Ands to your sides ! 
 Heves to vour front ! " 
 
 Then cell after cell would be opened, and each 
 occupant found to be industriously performing his 
 allotted task. But, half-an-hour later, the paying 
 clients would be chatting or playing poker in the 
 store-room, scouts being always posted to guard 
 against all possibilities of a surprise visit. A 
 strangely-assorted l(;t they were, too, these paying 
 clients. There was a parson, who had eked out an
 
 "Probation.'" gg 
 
 inadequate stipend by forging scrip of a company of 
 which he had been a director. A bank-accountant, 
 who had provided for an advanced \'oung woman at 
 St. John's Wood, at the expense of his employers. 
 A jeweller, N\'ho had substituted paste for diamonds 
 in a tiara intrusted to him to repair. A meek 
 individual, who had narrowly escaped the gallows 
 for having assisted Nature to make him a widower. 
 The most remarkable thing was, that all these persons 
 were innocent of the crimes laid to their doors. 
 They said so themselves, and, of course, they must 
 have known. The only one who admitted the justice 
 of his conxiction was a broken-down Ami}- man, 
 much addicted to strong waters and still stronger 
 language. 
 
 " Seven years ! " he used to exclaim, with a 
 chuckle. " I deserved seventy ! And when I think 
 of the nice little nest-egg waiting for me when I get 
 out, I consider the provision dirt cheap at the price. 
 Dirt cheap, sir— damme ! " 
 
 For a long time Morley Griffin shunned the society 
 of these Pentonville aristocrats. But, by degrees, 
 weariness of his own compau}- dro\e him into theirs. 
 
 7 ''
 
 100 Dartmoor. 
 
 He had no doubt that they were one and all real 
 criminals, but were they not equally justified in 
 regarding him as one ? And would not the law pre- 
 sently force him into the companionship of monsters 
 beside whom these men were relatively snow-white ? 
 
 Thus the time passed wearil}-, monotonously, 
 during the allotted probationary period ; and one day 
 Morley Griffin learnt from Mr. Ricketts that orders 
 had arrived for his transference to Dartmoor. 
 
 " I 'm right down sorry to lose you, sir," remarked 
 this corrupt but good-natured officer. This was, 
 doubtless, ver^• true. The Hon. Bob Dyver was an 
 exceptionally liberal and unquestioning paymaster. 
 "But you Ve got to go, and that to-morrow. So if 
 you have any letter to send, let me have it this 
 evening." 
 
 Alorle}' did write and, of course, to his friend. 
 
 " Dear Bob," the letter ran, " I have just learnt 
 that I am to be sent to Dartmoor to-morrow. This 
 means of course, old fellow, that all your well-meant 
 efforts to secure my release have failed ; and, indeed, 
 judging from the scoundrels I see here, who all pro- 
 test their innocence, I can quite understand that
 
 Probation.*' loi 
 
 once a man has been sentenced, his j:^uilt is taken for 
 granted. Now, it seems that, if I serve my sentence 
 quietly I may expect to be released upon a ticket-of- 
 leave in five years' time. Five years ! Think of it, 
 Bob! Five years of a life compared to which R. 
 assures me this is a perfect paradise ! I have made 
 up my mind, old chap. I shall make my escape the 
 first moment I see a chance. This may offer itself on 
 the way down to Dartmoor, or I may have to wait 
 for a better opportunity down there. But escape I 
 must and I shall ! And when I do, let H. D. look 
 well to himself, for the next time his eyes meet mine 
 his end will be very near ! Good-bye, dear old fellow. 
 Something tells me we shall meet again long before 
 five years. By the way, I inclose an order upon my 
 lawyers in your favour for £"300. They have plenty 
 of money of mine, and I can't allow you to be out of 
 pocket by your kindness to me here. Give my 
 regards to such of our lot as still believe in — 
 
 " Yours as ever, M. G." 
 
 Morley Griffin's hopes of escape during the 
 journey were doomed to disappointment. Mindful 
 of his gigantic strength and desperate courage, the 
 authorities took the especial precaution of leg-ironing
 
 102 Dartmoor. 
 
 as well as hand-cuffing him ; and, with a stalwart 
 constable on either side of him, he was absolutely 
 helpless. The train started very early in the morning ; 
 but, early as it was, Bob Dyver was at the station to 
 see him off, 
 
 "Now then, sir, stand back!'' cried one of the 
 warders. 
 
 " Stand bacl<, be d d ! " retorted the warm- 
 hearted young patrician. "Would you stand back if 
 the best friend you had in the world was being 
 dragged away in chains, for a crime he never com- 
 mitted?" 
 
 And, fairly breaking down, Bob D}-ver's tears fell 
 upon the manacled hands which he clasped in his own. 
 
 After all, even warders and policemen are human, 
 and no very forcible attempt was made to interrupt 
 the leave-taking, until Griffin was ordered to enter a 
 compartment, into which his escort immediately 
 followed him. 
 
 The prisoner's heart was too full for many words; 
 but the presence of the one man, of all his so-called 
 friends, who had stood, and still stood, so staunchly 
 by him, acted upon him like strong wine.
 
 "Probation." 103 
 
 " Good-bye, Bob ! " he cried, when at length 
 the train started ; " we shall meet again, never 
 fear!" 
 
 "Good-bye, dear old chap!" was the reply, as 
 Bob Dyver's hand momentarily sought that of one 
 of the constables. " I shall give the Home Secretary 
 no rest until he sends down your release ! " 
 
 Morley Griffin smiled grimly, and the last look 
 which his friend caught of his face caused him to 
 mutter to himself, as he sadly sought his hansom: 
 
 " Poor old Morley! He means to escape, that's 
 plain; but, judging from the way he is guarded, he'll 
 never get even the ghost of a chance. Fanc}' two 
 powerful constables to escort a single prisoner ironed 
 hand and foot! It's downright mean! . . . No 
 good!" he added to the driver of his cab. "The 
 mare won't be called upon to travel, after all." 
 
 Now, it was somewhat remarkable that the mare 
 in question should have been the Hon. Bob's own 
 celebrated trotter, " Madeline," and the drixer his 
 own groom, Walters. Apparently, had an escape 
 been possible at the station, means of rapid flight 
 had been pro\ided.
 
 I04 Dartinouy. 
 
 "i^Iorc's the pity, sir," replied the pseudo-cabby. 
 " She was never fitter in her life ! " 
 
 Ah ! Bob Dyver, with all your wildncss, your heart 
 was good ! It is not everyone who would risk a 
 felony to assist a friend.
 
 CHAPTER \III. 
 
 AT NAPLES. 
 
 w 
 
 ITH his victim safely under lock and key at 
 Pentonville, as a preliminary to the yet more 
 
 def^radinj^ fate in store for him at Portland or Dart- 
 moor, Hugh Darrell assured himself that his schemes 
 bade fair to succeed in every particular. It is true 
 that, thanks mainly to the Hon. Bob Dyver's action 
 and influence, he found himself practically ostracized 
 from the set which he had heretofore been justified in 
 regardini^^ as his own. Men with whom lie had 
 hitherto been on terms of intimac}' now returned his 
 salutations with the coldest of nods or cut him 
 altogether. 
 
 If he attempted to join in a conversation in a 
 club smoking-room, a dead silence ensued until he 
 had withdrawn. If he volunteered to cut in at a 
 rubber of whist, the party at once broke up. He 
 found the doors of most of the best houses, to which 
 he had formerly had access, now closed to him. In 
 short, he soon discovered that the example set b\- 
 
 105
 
 io6 Dartmoor. 
 
 Dyver and copied by that young nobleman's numerous 
 friends was being followed by all the best people, 
 And, in the end, matters were made so uncomfortable 
 for him, that he decided to live abroad until the Morley 
 Griffin scandal should have blown over. 
 
 Yet, although this enforced temporary exile galled 
 him to the quick, it was not without its compensating 
 advantages. Lady Conyers had become bitten 
 with a mania for foreign travel, and, except for a 
 brief stay in London during the ensuing season, 
 resided abroad with her daughter. Her movements 
 were easily traced, and, by the exercise of a little 
 tact, Darrell was enabled to see a good deal of the 
 girl whom he had sworn to make his wife. The 
 verdicts of society are far-reaching, and, at first, his 
 advances were coldly received by both mother and 
 daughter. But Lady Conyers, already prejudiced 
 against Griffin as a troublesome ineligible, gradually 
 came round to view the matter from Darrell's point 
 of view, the more especially as he had more than 
 once made himself extremely useful to her en voyage. 
 
 " You see, Lady Conyers," he would remark, with 
 a well-affected air of injured innocence, " it is very
 
 At Naples. 107 
 
 hard lines on me that I should he blamed because 
 Griffin came to grief. What ccnild I do ? The man 
 deliberately forged my signature and raised money 
 on the bill to pa)' his gambling debts. How could I 
 commit perjury and compound a felony by swearing 
 the signature was genuine ? Yet that is what Dyver 
 and his partisans seem to think I should have done." 
 
 And, by constant repetition of this species of 
 special pleading, Darrcll successfully posed in her 
 ladyship's eyes as a much-maligned mart}r to duty. 
 
 Moreover, the man was obviously wealthy and, 
 equally obviously, deeply in love with Ethel, who, 
 after a first natural outbreak of grief at her former 
 lover's fate, had apparently become resigned to his 
 loss. The girl had doubtless been really fond of her 
 stalwart wooer, and, given any reasonable prospect 
 of marriage with him, might have mustered sufficient 
 resolution to wait until his fortunes should improve. 
 But Morley was in prison^a convict, sentenced to a 
 long term of penal servitude for a terrible crime. It 
 was true he had sent her an impassioned letter from 
 Pentonvillc, protesting his innocence, accusing Hugh 
 Darrcll of treachery, and imploring her to disregard
 
 io8 Dartmooy. 
 
 the verdict of the jury. But Ethel Conyers was not 
 made of heroic clay. She had not suiftcient faith in 
 her lover to believe him against the world, nor to 
 wait seven years in order that he might essay to 
 prove his innocence. Some tears she shed, but she 
 did not answer the letter. 
 
 Given a good-looking, wealthy, devoted admirer 
 as clever and plausible as was Hugh Darrell ; given, 
 too, a strong-willed mother who encourages this 
 admirer's suit ; and given a not over-lively suburb of 
 Naples as the scene of the final wooing ; given, we 
 say, all these surroundings, and what wonder if, little 
 more than a year after Griffin's trial, Ethel Conyers 
 became Hugh Darrell's wife ? 
 
 For perhaps the first time in her worldly-wise life, 
 Lady Conyers had allowed her wonted vigilance in 
 business matters to lie dormant. That Hugh Darrell 
 was a wealthy man she had not the smallest doubt ; 
 and when the question of settlements upon Ethel 
 came up for discussion, she was as wax in the hands 
 of her astute son-in-law elect. He produced a 
 bewildering mass of documents (those that were not 
 forgeries being title-deeds of Mrs. Nesbitt's various
 
 At Naples. log 
 
 possessions, borrowed for the occasion), which 
 made it clear that he was worth at least ^^4,000 
 a year. 
 
 "As regards Ethel's ;;^io,ooo," he remarked, 
 loftily, " that I propose to settle entirely on herself. 
 The interest should suffice for pin-money. Lady 
 Conyers ? " 
 
 "Certainly," was the reply, "it is a very liberal 
 allowance." 
 
 " For the rest," continued Darrell, "I am, as vou 
 have perhaps divined, what is termed a good business 
 man. I believe in making money as well as in 
 spending it. As you see, my income is alread}- a 
 decent one, but I see my way to making it increase 
 year by year. To do this I require the use of all the 
 capital at my command, and instead of withdrawing 
 a supplementary ;^io,ooo to settle upon Ethel, in 
 addition to her own, I have insured my life in her 
 favour to that amount. It comes to exactl\- the 
 same thing, and it pays me better. See, here are 
 the receipts for premium. Do }ou follow me. Lady 
 Conyers ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented her ladvshin, a little doubtfullv.
 
 no Dartmoor. 
 
 " Should you die, this ;£"io,ooo will be paid to 
 Ethel ? " 
 
 " Quite so," said Darrell. " Here is the deed to 
 that effect. Moreover, here is my Will, which will be 
 signed after we are married, entirely in her favour, 
 whereby I leave her all that I may die possessed of, 
 with reversion, of course, to our children, should 
 there be any. In short, Ethel will share what I hope 
 will be a large and increasing income whilst I live, 
 and, at my death, she will have ^£^20,000 at her abso- 
 lute disposal, together with a life-interest in my entire 
 estate. Does this meet your views ? Take time to 
 consider. Of course, your own lawyers will see that 
 the terms I offer are properly carried out." 
 
 This last sentence settled whatever lingering 
 doubts remained in Lady Conyers's mind — as Darrell 
 intended it should. If these proposals were suffi- 
 ciently genuine to pass muster with Screwitt and 
 Sharpe, of Lincoln's Inn T'^ields, they were liberal in 
 the extreme. Ethel's own ;£'io,ooo was certainly 
 secure. So, too, was the insurance money. Darrell 
 was undoubtedly a clever man, a man of the world, 
 quite capable of making a huge income out of his
 
 At Naples. iii 
 
 capital, as he said. That would be pleasant, \'ery 
 pleasant. There are great advantages in having a 
 rich son-in-law to keep up establishments and defray 
 the cost of yachts. Ethel would be off her hands, 
 and she foresaw a share for herself in the young 
 wife's coming prosperity. Lastl}-, at the worst and 
 supposing Darrell came to grief, there was no getting 
 away from tlie ;£'2o,ooo settled upon her. Lady 
 Conyers made up her mind, but, woman-like, she did 
 not at once say so. 
 
 " I shall think over what 3-ou have said, Mr. 
 Darrell," she remarked. '' If you will dine with us 
 this evening, I will let you know my decision." 
 
 Hugh Darrell bowed and turned his head to 
 conceal the c}'nical smile of triumph that forced his 
 lips apart. 
 
 " I leave my fate entirely in your ladyship's hands," 
 he made answer, "feeling well-assured that you will 
 do me justice. I shall be here at seven o'clock." 
 
 And, it being still early in the afternoon, Hugh 
 Darrell drove off to make love to a pretty contadina, 
 who had struck his vicious fancy. 
 
 " I see exactly what's coming," he soliloc|uised, a^
 
 112 Dartmoor. 
 
 the clumsy conveyance, with loud cracking of whip, 
 jolted along at a five-mile-an-hour pace. "Subject 
 to Screwitt and Sharpe's approval of my papers, Ethel 
 is mine. Mine ! Do you hear, Alorley Griffin ? Not 
 \-ours, }Ou overgrown ass ! But mine — the propert}-, 
 body and soul, of me, Hugh Darrell, your bastard 
 cousin, whom my father sought to rob to make you 
 his heir ! Curse him and curse you ! . . . I am 
 driving along a picturesque road, in balm}- air, to 
 meet a charming little Italian girl, and to-night the 
 date of my marriage with your lady-love will be fixed. 
 What are you doing ? . . . Let me see. . . . They 
 have shifted you to Dartmoor, haven't they ? Un- 
 pleasant place, I should say, in the month or Januarv. 
 I daresay at the present moment you are chopping 
 wood, or, as you 're a giant, quarrying rock, with an 
 east wind whistling through your con\-ict uniform ! 
 Ha ! ha ! ha ! . . . Fools talk about the All-wise 
 Providence, which never allows the innocent to suffer 
 in the long run, and which metes out justice even in 
 this world ! What do yuu think ? You were inno- 
 cent enough — I never came across such a simpleton. 
 Yet }'ou have suffered, haven't \'ou ? Aye, and as to
 
 At Naples. 113 
 
 the 'long run,' I'll look after that. I take a great 
 interest in you still, Morley Griffin, and I intend to 
 visit Dartmoor pretty soon — shortly after our honey- 
 moon, my convict friend. I don't think I shall take 
 Ethel down to see you, though I should like to. I 
 doubt if I shall even risk seeing you myself. You 
 have the strength of ten devils in you, you know, and 
 I shouldn't care to rely on a few warders as a safe- 
 guard if we met face to face. But I shall visit Prince- 
 town, never fear. I have discovered a warder who, 
 I think, may be brought to terms, and then, Morley 
 Griffin, you will need to be very guarded indeed in 
 your conduct. I have made quite a study of the dark 
 ways of penal servitude. I wonder what you would 
 do if they flogged you ? Kill two or three of them ? 
 Best thing you could do — ' best for you and best for 
 me ! ' " And, in the ferocious exuberance of his tri- 
 umph, Hugh Darrell fell to singing the beautiful 
 ballad, " In the Gloaming," with such impromptu 
 words as his fiendish humour could sutrtrest. 
 
 'bb*- 
 
 Two hours later the pretty contadina, as charming 
 a sixteen-year-old Neapolitan peasant-girl as you shall 
 
 8
 
 114 Dartmoor. 
 
 find, returned, flushed and dishevelled, to her father's 
 cottage. Her peasant-lover, Marco Gaoli, would be 
 round to see her that evening, as usual. But how 
 could she meet him as heretofore ? Ave Maria ! 
 what had befallen her ? . . . She had met the hand- 
 some Englishman, with the pearly teeth, and the 
 grey-blue eyes, and the masterful yet winning man- 
 ners, and . . . they had gone for a walk in the 
 Mori woods. . . . He had placed a diamond ring on 
 her finger . . . had made her drink some sweet- 
 tasting liquor out of his flask, and — the rest she could 
 not bear to think of ! . . . What would her father 
 say if he knew it ? What would Marco say — and do 
 — if he knew it ? What would her father confessor 
 say ? — and he must know it the next time she went 
 to confession. . . . Ah ! who could have suspected 
 it ? A cavaliero, so perfect in his address, despite his 
 bad Italian . . . and an Englishman — a i.^alanhwmo 
 by race ! . . . God pardon her ! 
 
 Aye, Teresa, God will pardon thee, never fear ! 
 Even although, three days later, having confessed 
 thy unwilling sin to the aged priest, thou didst, in 
 very shame to meet thy lover's eyes, wrap thy mantle
 
 At Naples. 115 
 
 around thy face and hurl thyself into the neighbour- 
 ing lake ! Fear not, for God is merciful and reads all 
 hearts. But even He will scarce find mercy for thy 
 seducer. English ? Yes ; but there be bad men, 
 poor child, amongst us English. God rest thee! 
 
 Dressed with extra scrupulous care, and, to do 
 him justice, looking an exceptionally handsome man, 
 Hugh Darrell returned to the villa rented by Lady 
 Conyers at seven o'clock. As he had foreseen, he 
 was received as the accepted suitor. Lady Conyers 
 greeted him with a certain cnipressemcnt. Ethel re- 
 ceived him with more reserve, yet in a manner that 
 made it plain she knew what was to follow. Indeed, 
 Lady Conyers made her own decision sufficiently 
 plain by leaving the young couple together in the 
 drawing-room after dinner. Hugh Darrell's eyes 
 sparkled, as he seated himself upon a sofa beside his 
 bride-elect. 
 
 " Miss Conyers — Ethel," he began, " to learn that 
 
 I love you — that I have long loved you — cannot come 
 
 to you as a surprise ; you must long ago have divined 
 
 it. Your mother favours my suit. Can I, dare I, 
 
 8 *
 
 ii6 Dartmoor. 
 
 hope that 3-011 love me a httle bit in return ? Will 
 }'OU be my wife ? " 
 
 " Yes," was the reply, hesitatingly given. " I 
 promised mamma that I would accept you. I will 
 be your wife if you wish it, but I cannot honestly say 
 that — I love you." 
 
 Hugh Darrell took the girl in his arms and kissed 
 her with passionate fierceness. " I will make you 
 love me, my pretty darling ; " he whispered, again 
 sealing his lips to hers, until the slight figure trembled 
 in his embrace. And, before Darrell quitted the 
 villa, the marriage was fixed to take place in one 
 month's time. 
 
 Lady Conyers duly wrote to her solicitors instruct- 
 ing them to draw up a deed of settlement in confor- 
 mity with Hugh Darrell's proposals, and this letter 
 she showed to her prospective son-in-law. But she 
 sent them (as she believed) a second private letter 
 bidding them to satisfy themselves, by an interview 
 with Darrell's solicitors, of that gentleman's financial 
 position. Needless to say that Darrell, who foresaw 
 this move and was keenly on the alert, contrived to 
 intercept this second despatch. Consequently, Messrs.
 
 At Naples. 117 
 
 Screwitt and Sharpe, obeying the only instructions 
 which had reached them, merely forwarded the re- 
 quired deed without comment — ample proof in her 
 ladyship's eyes that their inquiries had been satisfac- 
 tory. This deed Darrell signed, in the presence of 
 the British Consul, and the marriage duly took place. 
 It had been arranged that the honeymoon trip should 
 include a visit to England, where, as Darrell alleged, 
 he had important business to transact, and, immedi- 
 ately after the ceremony, the newly-wedded couple 
 journeyed northwards, leaving her ladyship to enjoy 
 unfettered widowhood at Naples. Hugh Darrell had 
 once more triumphed. Ethel Conyers was his.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DARRELL V. DYVER. 
 
 BY Jove, that 's hot ! " exclaimed the Hon. Bob 
 Dyver, as his friend, Captain Heavyside, read 
 out the announcement of the marriage from the 
 Times, at the chib. " Shows you what women are. 
 Fancy her marrying the very man who got poor 
 Griffin into that awful mess ! " 
 
 "Yes," assented the dragoon, "as you say, it is 
 rather hot. I wonder the mother allowed it. She 
 must know the man is no longer received any- 
 where." 
 
 " She has been so much abroad," rejoined the 
 Hon. Bob, "that I expect she doesn't cjuite realise 
 Darrell's position over here. If I were not so dis- 
 gusted at the girl's conduct, I should feel sorry for 
 her. I believe Darrell to be the most consummate 
 scoundrel I ever met, and it 's not hard to foresee 
 the sort of husband he '11 make. Poor old Morley ! 
 It seems like yesterday that he was planning ways and 
 means to marry Ethel Conyers himself. Should he 
 
 ii8
 
 Darrdl v. Dyver. 119 
 
 by any chance learn that she has married his enemy, 
 it will be a terrible blow to him ; though, for my part, 
 I think I 'd rather go to gaol than marry such a 
 false-hearted girl as she has proved herself to be." 
 
 " Any chance of getting Griffin's sentence 
 shortened?" queried the captain, who was a staunch 
 believer in his innocence. 
 
 "I'm afraid not," answered Dyver, shaking his 
 head mournfully. " I got the dad to bring all the 
 influence he could command to bear upon the Home 
 Secretary ; but it seems the judge who tried the case 
 is dead against the poor fellow. I can't even get an 
 order to see him yet, though I hope to later on." 
 
 " Then he has five years more to serve ? " remarked 
 Heavyside. 
 
 " Four," corrected his friend; " that is, if he keeps 
 quiet. They knock off a year or so upon a seven 
 years' sentence, for good conduct. I say, Dick, I 
 wonder if it would be possible to work out some plan 
 of escape? I 've been stud}-ing the matter for a long 
 time, and it seems to me that, b\- bribing a few of the 
 warders, the thing might be managed." 
 
 " I '11 chip in, old fellow, if \ou can see your way,"
 
 120 Dartmoor. 
 
 answered the dragoon, heartily. " I 'd risk all I 'm 
 worth, and my skin to boot, to see that poor boy free 
 once more ! " 
 
 " I knew you would, Dick," rejoined Dyver. 
 " And, if it came to a scrapping match, you 'd be 
 very handy." 
 
 Captain Heavyside, be it remarked, was very 
 nearly as big a man as Morley Griffin himself, and 
 a noted boxer. 
 
 " I 'd do my best," said the dragoon, quietly. 
 *'Let me know if you see a chance, that's all." 
 
 The final result of a lengthy discussion between 
 these two staunch, if also somewhat reckless, friends 
 of Morley Griffin was, that they decided to run down 
 to Princetown the following week, " upon a recon- 
 noitring expedition," as the captain put it. 
 
 It is not a very difficult matter to obtain an order 
 to visit a convict prison. A few lines from a Com- 
 missioner, or even from one of the higher-placed 
 permanent officials in the Home Office, to the 
 governor, are sufficient ; and such a letter Dyver had 
 no difficulty in procuring. Accompanied by his 
 faithful henchman, Walters, he and Captain Heavy-
 
 Darrcll v. Dyver. 121 
 
 side accordingly travelled down to Princetown, as 
 they had arranged, and established themselves at the 
 best local inn, known as " The Spotted Dog." The 
 
 next day they called upon Major S , the governor 
 
 of the gaol, presented their credentials, and were duly 
 invited to luncheon, preparatory to an inspection of 
 the place. 
 
 Major S was a rigid disciplinarian, a man 
 
 who believed that in the body of every convict 
 intrusted to his charge there lurked a demon, which 
 could be exorcised only by the aid of punishment- 
 cells and the cat ; and, in the main, he was possibly 
 right. The trouble is that governors of goals do not 
 discriminate. They are supposed, in consideration 
 of the large salary they draw, to make the character 
 of each convict a special study ; as a matter of fact 
 they do nothing of the sort. Almost invariably 
 retired Army men, with sufficient influence to secure 
 the billet, they simply drop into the position as being 
 worth so many hundreds a year, and are guided entirely 
 by the reports of the permanent understrappers. 
 
 Major S^ was just such a type. Unpopular 
 
 in his regiment, he had retired as captain, with
 
 122 Dartmoor. 
 
 brevet-rank as major ; and, his family influence being 
 strong, he had been hoisted into his present position 
 over the heads of men who had grown grej^ in the 
 penal service. 
 
 Having done justice to a fairly good luncheon, to 
 which the chaplain and doctor had been invited, the 
 Hon. Bob Dyver proceeded to business. 
 
 " You have a prisoner here, I regret to say, major," 
 he began, "who is one of my oldest and dearest 
 friends — Morley Griffin." 
 
 "Indeed!" replied the major. "I am sorry to 
 hear that. Let me see, Morley Griffin, you say? 
 I don't seem to recollect the name, but then names 
 become obliterated here. Do you know him, Mr. 
 Robinson ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented the chaplain, " I know him. He 
 is down on the register as Z 754 — an extremely tall, 
 fine man, serving a seven years' sentence for forgery." 
 " The same," remarked Dyver. " And I may add 
 that in the opinion of all those who knew him best, 
 including my friend Captain Heavy side and myself, 
 he is entirely innocent of the crime of which he was 
 con\ictcd."
 
 Darrell v. Dyver. 123 
 
 "I'd stake my life upon it," corroborated the 
 dragoon, emphatically. 
 
 Major S shifted uneasily upon his chair. 
 
 " Your confidence in your friend does 3-ou both 
 honour," he said, glancing at the chaplain. " But I 
 am bound to say that, so far as my experience goes, 
 justice seldom miscarries nowadays." 
 
 " It has miscarried in this case," persisted Dyver, 
 "though I fear the chances of obtaining a reversal of 
 the sentence are remote. To what remission would 
 he be entitled upon a ticket-of-leave ? " 
 
 " Fourteen months," was the reply. " And I now 
 remember the man of whom you speak. He came 
 down here with the reputation of being extremely 
 violent and dangerous ; but, so far, he has not been 
 reported to me for bad conduct. And now, if you are 
 ready, I will take }-ou over the prison." 
 
 Preceded by two warders, the party accordingly 
 went the round. 
 
 "I suppose. Major S ," observed Dyver, "it 
 
 would be against the rules to see my friend ? " 
 
 "Well, yes," answ^ered the governor; "without 
 an order from the Home Office, I could not go the
 
 I24 ' Dartmoor. 
 
 length of giving you a private interview. But, as I 
 understand he is working in the masons' gang, I can 
 manage to let you see him for a minute or two." 
 
 There was much to be seen before they reached 
 the scene of Morley Griffin's labours. Many cells 
 were opened and inspected. They passed through 
 workshops innumerable, where their visit seemed to 
 cause no little excitement, as, in obedience to the 
 overseer's commands, the quaintly - garbed toilers 
 stood to attention. Everywhere they noticed the 
 prevalence of the two great gaol characteristics : 
 scrupulous cleanliness and rigid discipline. 
 
 " Yes," replied Major S , in response to a 
 
 remark of Captain Heavyside ; "we don't encourage 
 dirt and insubordination here. Labour is plentiful 
 and punishment swift." 
 
 They presently reached a spot where some new 
 bakehouses were in course of erection, and, amongst 
 the masons, the two friends soon discovered Morley 
 Griffin, looking bigger than ever in his parti-coloured 
 convict garb. Strange to say, he did not at first 
 recognise them. 
 
 "Z754, fall out !" cried one of the attendant
 
 Darrell v. Dyver. 125 
 
 warders, in obedience to an order from the governor. 
 Z 754 promptly dropped a huge rock, which he was 
 carrying, and approached. In another instant his 
 two hands were locked in those of his old friends. 
 
 " Morley, dear old chap!" exclaimed Dyver, 
 eagerly scanning the prisoner's face. " At last 
 Heavyside and I have managed to catch sight of 
 
 you, thanks to the goodness of Major S . Why, 
 
 how well you are looking, eh, Dick ? " 
 
 " Fit as a fiddle," assented the dragoon. " I 
 fancy a spell down here, at this sort of muscle- 
 making work, would do us both a world of good. 
 Couldn't you take us in. Major S , for a while ?" 
 
 The governor laughed, a dry, official laugh. 
 
 " Qualify yourselves for admission," he said, 
 grimly, " and I daresay we '11 find room for you. 
 But, you know, it is almost as troublesome to get into 
 Dartmoor Prison as it is to get out." 
 
 The warders laughed in chorus at the great man's 
 joke, and even the listening convicts indulged in a 
 broad grin. 
 
 Dyver saw that the time for conversation would 
 necessarily be brief, and he made the most of it.
 
 126 Dartmoor. 
 
 " I hope shortly to get an order from the Home 
 Office to see you privately, old fellow," he said, so 
 that all might hear; "but meanwhile, rest assured 
 that everything possible is being done. Keep your 
 heart up ! All of the old set believe in you, and the 
 truth is bound to come out ere long. By the way, 
 my lawyers have seen yours, and they all agree that 
 the Courts will never enforce that penalty clause in 
 your uncle's Will." 
 
 " What of Ethel ? " asked Griffin, eagerly. 
 
 " Abroad with her mother, and quite well, I 
 believe," answered Dyver, who had not the heart 
 to tell the whole truth. "But I'd try and get over 
 that folly were I you, old chap. Stick to the bachelor- 
 brigade, like Dick here and myself. Time enough to 
 marry twenty years hence." 
 
 Morley Griffin smiled faintly. "As you once 
 said, Bob," he remarked, " it is wonderful what a lot 
 of matches never come off ; but my entry holds good 
 if hers does." 
 
 " Scratch it, Morley," rejoined D3'ver, emphati- 
 cally. " Best for both of you." Then, seeing a look 
 on the governor's face that warned him the interview
 
 Darrell v. Dyver. 127 
 
 must close, he hurriedly whispered in Griffin's ear : 
 " When we shake hands, be prepared for some 
 paper." 
 
 Griffin nodded assent, and extended his hand to 
 Heavyside first. 
 
 " Good-bye, old man," said the dragoon, as they 
 exchanged a hearty grip. "We shall soon see the 
 silver lining on the cloud." 
 
 " Of course we shall," added Dyver, dexterously 
 slipping a small, folded packet into Griffin's out- 
 stretched palm. " God bless you, dear old fellow ! " 
 
 And so they left him, standing at attention out of 
 respect for the governor. 
 
 The missive which had thus changed hands, 
 and which Griffin seized an early opportunity of 
 examining, consisted of a ^50 note and the following 
 written upon tissue-paper : — 
 
 " Heavyside and I have decided to make an effort 
 to effect your escape. The judge blocks all my efforts 
 at Home Office. We shall try to square a couple of 
 warders, and I daresay you will find some use for 
 accompanying £^0- — R- D." 
 
 Morley Griffin contriNcd to read this over twice,
 
 128 Dartmoor. 
 
 and then, putting the paper into his mouth, chewed 
 it to a pulp. The bank-note he secreted in one of 
 his boots. 
 
 " Dear old Bob ! " he muttered, as he resumed 
 work. " He, at least, believes in me, and so does 
 Heavyside. I wonder what their plan will be ? No 
 doubt I shall learn later on from one of the ' screws,' 
 as they call the warders here. Escape ? No easy 
 matter from inside. I had intended waiting till they 
 put me in the quarry-gang, but if it can be managed 
 sooner, so much the better." 
 
 Meanwhile, Dyver and Heavyside, having thanked 
 
 Major S for his hospitality and courtesy, returned 
 
 to "The Spotted Dog," which they had learned was 
 a favourite evening resort of the gaol officials when 
 off duty. Such proved to be the case, for upon 
 descending to the bar - parlour after dinner, they 
 found it fairly well filled with warders. Now, warders 
 are a thirsty race, and by no means averse to conver- 
 sation with inquisitive strangers, provided the latter 
 do the handsome thing in the matter of refreshments. 
 Dyver's servant, Walters, had, moreover, made 
 certain inquiries upon his own account, and the final
 
 Darrell v. Dyvev. 129 
 
 outcome was that the two friends and a certain 
 warder, Haythorpe, entered upon a lengthy and 
 seemingly very interesting conversation, apart from 
 the rest. It was not in D}-ver's nature to waste time 
 beating round the bush, and, having gauged his man, 
 he quickly came to the point. 
 
 " I would give ;^50o to see my friend a free man," 
 he said, coolly. " Can it be done ? " 
 
 " Speak lower, sir," cautioned the warder. " This 
 is a dangerous matter to talk about at Princetown. 
 As to getting a prisoner awa)', I don't say as how it 
 ain't to be done, and I ain't disputing but what your 
 terms is liberal. But there 'd have to be two, or it 
 might be three, of us in the job, and that brings 
 each one's share down considerable. Make it £750, 
 sir, and I think I can work it." 
 
 " Well, £j^o be it," answered Dyvcr ; " but under- 
 stand, my man, that I'll pay by results. I have 
 told you who I am. My friend is a captain in the 
 Dragoon Guards. We both guarantee you the sum 
 you name provided you fulfil your part of the 
 contract. Meanwhile, here are £'50 on account." 
 
 Warder Haythorpe pocketed the notes with a 
 
 9
 
 130 Dartmoor. 
 
 grunt of satisfaction. " It ain't to be expected, 
 nor it ain't in reason, gentlemen, that you should 
 pay £7^0 before the job's done, and I'm quite 
 satisfied as how 3-ou"ll keep your promise. What's 
 more, gentlemen, I calls ^^50 uncommon handsome 
 as earnest-money, and, you may take your 'davit, 
 me and my mates will do our best. It will take a 
 fortnight though to fix any sort of a plan. And 
 the three of us (now I think of it, there must be 
 three in the job) will have to be on duty the same 
 night." 
 
 "All right," assented Dyver. "Let my friend, 
 whom you know as Z 754, know of your intentions, 
 and write to my London address to let me know 
 when the attempt is to be made. I shall expect to 
 hear from you within a fortnight." 
 
 " I'll write, sir, never fear," answered Haythorpe. 
 "If I may make so bold, gentlemen, I'd suggest a 
 cutter moored somewhere, not too far, off the coast. 
 Getting out of gaol is one thing. Getting clear away 
 is another." 
 
 "The fellow is right," observed Captain Heavy- 
 side, as the two friends sat in their own sitting-room,
 
 Day veil v. Dyvcr. 131 
 
 " It is easier to effect an escape than to avoid 
 recapture. I shall ask Saville to place his 20-tonner 
 at my disposal for a few days when the time 
 comes." 
 
 Now. had these conspiring young gentlemen 
 deferred their return to London for twenty -four 
 hours, they would have been startled to find Hugh 
 Darrell established as a guest at " The Spotted Dog," 
 where he engaged the private sitting-room they 
 had vacated, announced himself to the landlord as 
 Mr. Barrett, of London, and gave orders that should 
 a certain Warder Jason inquire for him he was at 
 once to be shown up. That same evening \\^arder 
 Jason duly called, and was admitted to the presence 
 of Mr. Barrett, of London. 
 
 " Your name is Jason ? " queried the latter, casting 
 a keen glance of scrutiny at his visitor, a thick-set, 
 surly-looking individual, afflicted with an especially 
 ugly squint. 
 
 " Yes, sir," was the reply. " Matthew Jason, at 
 your sarvice." 
 
 "Well, it is to use your services, for which I will 
 pay you handsomely, that I have sought you out. 
 
 g *
 
 132 Dartmoor. 
 
 I have been given to understand that you are wilhng 
 to obey orders without asking questions, provided I 
 make it worth your while. Is that so ? " 
 
 " The party as told you that, sir, knows Mat 
 Jason as well as I knows myself," assented the visitor, 
 with a cunning leer. 
 
 " Very v.ell," continued Mr. Barrett, of London ; 
 " help yourself to some of that brandy and listen 
 to me." 
 
 "Thankee, sir," responded Jason, availing him- 
 self freely of this invitation. 
 
 " There is a convict down here whose name is 
 Morley Griffin, but whom you perhaps know as 
 Z 754 — an extremely tall, powerful man " 
 
 "Yes, sir," put in the warder, "I knows him, 
 though he ain't come under my special charge as yet." 
 
 " Then you must manage to exchange duty with 
 some other warder, so that he shall come under your 
 special charge," rejoined Mr. Barrett. " Can you 
 do this?" 
 
 "Yes, it can be worked," answered Jason. " He 
 ain't no friend of yours, sir, I take it, this Z 754, 
 and you wants me to make things 'ot for him ? "
 
 Darrell v. Dyver. 133 
 
 " He is my deadly enemy," said Mr. Barrett, 
 savagely. " Were he to regain his freedom, either 
 upon a tickct-of-leave or by the expiry of his sentence, 
 my life would not be worth three days' purchase. 
 Now, I am given to understand that a prisoner may 
 be goaded into committing acts which would not 
 only disqualify him for a ticket-of-leave, but might 
 furthermore result in a prolongation of his original 
 term." 
 
 " That 's quite correct, sir," assented Jason, 
 lowering his voice. "A 'screw' (as they calls us 
 warders) wot has a ' nark ' on a prisoner can keep 
 him in 'ot water until he grows desperate and does 
 something as '11 fetch him a hextra lagging." 
 
 " This Morley Griffin is an extremely violent 
 man, when provoked," added Mr. Barrett, "and 
 you should have no difficulty in goading him to 
 desperation. Now, what I propose to you is this : 
 make it your business so to goad him, and, for every 
 year that you succeed in adding to his sentence, 
 I will pay you ;^ioo, or, should he die in gaol, I will 
 give you ;^500 cash down. The person who recom- 
 mended you to me, and whom you know well, holds
 
 134 Dartmoor. 
 
 guarantees that I will keep my word. In the mean- 
 while, I will pay you £25 every three months for 
 your current services. It depends upon yourself how 
 soon you earn the larger sum, and here is the first 
 quarter's money in advance. You understand me ? '" 
 
 " Yes, sir, I understand right enough," was the 
 reply, as twenty-five sovereigns were counted into the 
 outstretched hand. " Twenty-five pound a quarter 
 to go on with. A lump sum of £100 for every year 
 added to 754's lagging. Or ;£'500 cash down if he 
 dies. As you say, sir, I can trust the party as sent 
 you down here to see you acts square, 'specially as it 
 wouldn't pay to turn dog in a business of this sort — 
 Mr. Hugh Darrell ! " 
 
 Darrell started. It had formed no part of his 
 plans that this scoundrel, whom he was employing, 
 should be aware of his identity ; but he quickly 
 recovered himself. 
 
 " I see you know my name," he remarked, coolly. 
 " Of course, I took the precaution to change it upon 
 a mission of this sort. I think nothing more remains 
 to be said, except that thu sooner you earn your 
 reward the better I shall be pleased."
 
 Darrell v. Dyver. 135 
 
 " Aye, sir," retorted Jason, helping himself un- 
 bidden to some more brandy, in the familiarity 
 begotten of criminal partnership, " and the ;^500 
 for choice, eh ? " 
 
 With which parting shot, the warder gulped 
 down his dose of the fiery spirit and departed to his 
 night-duty in the gaol. 
 
 " Insolent brute ! " muttered Darrell, as he pre- 
 pared to depart Londonwards. " But what matters 
 so that he does my work, and does it thoroughly ? 
 And, if looks can be trusted, he 11 stick at nothing 
 to earn his blood-money ! "
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 DARTMOOR. 
 
 DURING the ten months that had elapsed since 
 Morley Griffin bade adieu to Bob Dyver at 
 the railway-station, he had ample opportunity to 
 realise the truth of Warder Ricketts' statemeat that, 
 compared to Pentonville, Dartmoor is a veritable 
 hell upon earth. Herded with ruffians, whose 
 companionship was contamination and whose every 
 other word was a blasphemy or an obscenity, he 
 shuddered to think that, in time, he, too, might lose 
 his own self-respect and become even as they were. 
 From the first he had constrained himself, reckless 
 though he felt, to adopt a policy of rigid obedience 
 to all the rules, hoping thereby to disarm suspicion 
 and so secure a favourable chance of putting into 
 effect the one plan ever uppermost in his mind — 
 
 escape. 
 
 Some building-work was in progress within the 
 gaol, and he, on account of his great strength, had 
 been selected to perform some of the hardest portions
 
 Dai'tuioov. 137 
 
 of the labour. This he did willingly enough, feeling, 
 indeed, glad of an opportunity for bringing his muscles 
 into active play. Moreover, there was always the 
 hope that, when this work was completed, he would 
 be drafted into the quarry-gang, which he regarded 
 as an essential preliminary towards his freedom. 
 Escape from within the prison itself seemed an abso- 
 lute impossibility. Then the unexpected visit of Bob 
 Dyver and Heavyside, together with Bob's written 
 message, had raised new hopes in his breast, and he 
 anxiously awaited a further communication from one 
 or other of the warders in Dyver's pay. The £^0- 
 note he contrived to secrete in the binding of his 
 Bible placed in his cell. Within a week Warder 
 Haythorpe found opportunity for a brief conversation. 
 " Your friends outside are coming down hand- 
 some," he said, "and one of \x\y mates is willing to 
 stand in with me in the job. He'll be on the wicket 
 one night next week. I shall be on duty in \-our 
 gallery, and shall have a duplicate key of }-our cell 
 door made from a cast. But the man on duty in the 
 lower corrid(ir will have to be squared too, and I 
 don't know }'et who it will be. So I can't sa\' for
 
 138 Dartmoor. 
 
 certain what night it will be. Anyhow, if we can 
 pass you through the wicket between us, you '11 find 
 a rope hanging at the southern end of the outer wall, 
 and, upon the other side, your friend's servant will be 
 waiting for you. After that, your friends will look 
 after you and see that you get clear away." 
 
 " What of you and your mates ? " queried Griffin, 
 whose good-nature prompted him to bestow a thought 
 upon his proposed helpers. "It will go hardly with 
 you if you are found guilty of assisting a prisoner to 
 escape." 
 
 " That's true enough," assented Haythorpe, " but 
 we are paid to run the risk, and must trust to luck 
 and hard-swearing to pull us through. The chap on 
 the wicket will be found apparently stunned and 
 half-choked, and, as the chief warder keeps all the 
 cell-door ke}'s, there "11 be nothing to show how your 
 door was opened. It will most likely be set down to 
 an oversight when the chief went his rounds. I shall 
 admit having left my post for a few minutes to see 
 the man in the other corridor, but that can't mean 
 much more than a rcprimnnd. Indeed, I don't care 
 if they dismiss me. I 'm getting sick of this billet."
 
 Dartmoor. 139 
 
 Bold, almost rash, as Haythorpe's scheme ap- 
 peared to be, it might nevertheless have come off 
 successfully had he made no mistake about his third 
 confederate, who proved to be none other than Mat- 
 thew Jason. Haythorpe knew this officer to be "upon 
 the cross," as it is termed, that is, as one who was 
 open to bribery ; but, of course, he knew nothing of 
 the compact previously made with Darrell. 
 
 " What 's the job worth ? " asked Jason, bluntly, 
 after the first few preliminary hints. 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty pounds each for the three 
 of us," was the reply, " and the money as safe as the 
 bank." 
 
 " How am I to know that ? " retorted Jason. 
 " You can just tell your people, \\hoever they are, 
 that I for one will have nothing to do with this job 
 unless I gets ;^ioo down aforehand ; " and from this 
 decision he refused to recede an inch. 
 
 Dyver, informed of this hitch, sent the required 
 sum, and Jason professed to be content. Morley 
 Griffin's hopes soared high when Haythorpe told him 
 that the following night had been fixed upon for his 
 escape. In the exuberance of his jo\-, he told that
 
 140 Dartmooy. 
 
 friendly warder of the ^^50 concealed in his Bible, and 
 bade him secure it for his own use — an injunction 
 which Haythorpe lost no time in obeying, with a 
 profusion of thanks. 
 
 The next morning, whilst Griffin was at work, and 
 counting the hours that had yet to elapse ere he 
 should be a free man, the chief warder was astounded 
 to find amongst his correspondence an execrably 
 written letter, which ran as follows :— 
 
 "Sir, take a frcnds advice and shift Z 754 to a dif- 
 furent Cell at wonst. Tharcs a plant to get him away 
 wich shi/tin him will block it. — A Frend.'" 
 
 For some moments the chief warder stared at this 
 startling communication, and then laughed incredu- 
 lously. A plant to free a prisoner from Dartmoor 
 Gaol ! The thing was too absurd for serious con- 
 sideration. Possibly Z 754 had been trying to tamper 
 with his cell — such attempts were not unknown. A 
 careful inspection would soon settle that point. And, 
 whilst on his morning rounds, the chief warder took 
 occasion to examine the cell in question minutely ; 
 but not the faintest suspicious mark or sign could 
 he discover. Haythorpe, who accompanied him,
 
 Dartmoor. 141 
 
 watched this proceeding uneasily ; he at once guessed 
 that the chief had a suspicion of something amiss, 
 but how much did he know or suspect ? 
 
 " Have Z 754's bedding shifted to one of the new 
 cells," said his superior, as though by way of after- 
 thought, as he departed. 
 
 " Very well, sir," answered Haythorpe, calmly 
 enough. lUit he knew now that, somehow or other, 
 some inkling of the prisoner's design had leaked out. 
 and instinctivel}' he fixed upon Jason in his own mind 
 as the probable traitor. He knew him to be a man 
 of no principle whatever. What more likely than 
 that, having secured ;/^ioo in advance, he had taken 
 measures to avoid all further risk by quietly putting 
 the chief warder upon his guard, and so making the 
 execution of the plan quite impossible ? 
 
 " Great Scott ! " muttered Haythorpe, with a 
 shudder. " What a show-up there 'd have been h;ui 
 the chief kept his suspicions to himself and merely 
 kept careful watch on the cell ! He 'd have caught 
 me red-handed ! Well, I must let the others know 
 the game is up, though I 'd wager all I 'm worth 
 Jason knows it already. Poor 754 ! What an aw ful
 
 142 Dart)!ioor. 
 
 sell it will be for him ! Anyhow, I 've done my best, 
 as I shall take care to explain to the Hon. Dyver and 
 his friend." 
 
 Jason received Haythorpe's news with obviously 
 affected surprise. " I expect them two gentlemen 
 has been talking too loud," he remarked, " and so put 
 the job away. You and me '11 have to be extry care- 
 ful,"" he added, " and I daresay as how they "11 stand 
 something for the risks we ran. Not that I 'm 
 grumbling : that hundred about squares my trouble. 
 Pity you didn't look after yourself a bit, too, Jem 
 Haythorpe ! "' And Jason squinted at his companion 
 with fiendish glee. 
 
 Haythorpe was off duty at mid-day, and at once 
 betook himself to "The Spotted Dog" to report the 
 impossibility of putting the plans arranged upon 
 into execution. Both Dyver and Heavyside were 
 furious. 
 
 " One of you three warders must have betrayed 
 the scheme ! " cried Dyver. " The fellow, most likely, 
 who insisted upon the ;,rioo in advance. Fool that 
 I was to let him have it ! I might have guessed he 'd 
 prefer a safe £100 to a risky £"250,"
 
 Dartmoor. 143 
 
 Haythorpe admitted that his own suspicions ran 
 in the same direction. Still, as he pointed out, it 
 was evident that the authorities had received nothing 
 but a vague hint to keep a watchful eye upon Z 754, 
 and had no suspicion of the real nature of the plot. 
 Who could say that, later on, the scheme might not 
 be successfully carried out ? Meanwhile he pledged 
 himself to do all that he could to make their friend's 
 position more comfortable. He undertook, moreover, 
 to let them know at once should a favourable oppor- 
 tunity present itself. And, in the end, deriving what 
 little comfort they could from these assurances, Dyver 
 and Heavyside returned dejected to London to await 
 the issue of events. 
 
 "This is the second time we've missed fire," 
 growled the sturd}- groom, Walters. " Perhaps next 
 time the job will come off! " 
 
 Morley Griffin had no inkling of the disastrous 
 news in store for him until he learnt at bed-time that 
 he was no longer to occupy his former cell. 
 
 " Keep yourself cool," said Haythorpe, in low, 
 guarded tones, as he called him up to tell him of his 
 change of quarters, " The chief suspects something,
 
 144 Dartmoor. 
 
 and has ordered me to shift your bedding to one of 
 the new cells. That, of course, upsets all our plans 
 for the present." 
 
 Griiftn ground his teeth to keep back the excla- 
 mation of bitter disappointment that rose to his lips. 
 
 " One of your mates must have turned traitor, 
 then," he whispered, fiercely. 
 
 " Yes," assented Haythorpe. " I believe that 's 
 what happened. He got nervous about the risks of 
 detection, as the time drew near, and managed to 
 give the chief a hint to put you in a different cell, 
 though he was careful not to give any details, for his 
 own sake. So there 's just a vague suspicion against 
 you and no more. That will blow over by-and-by, if 
 you keep quiet, and, as I told your friends outside to- 
 day, a better chance may present itself. They were 
 awful disappointed when I told "em what had hap- 
 pened, and went back to London quite cut-up like. 
 Now, be careful of Jason, who has charge of the new 
 cells. He 's a bad lot ; and I fancy, from odd remarks 
 he has let fall, that he has a ' down ' on you." 
 
 "Why?" asked Griftin. "He scarcely knows 
 me b\- si</ht,"
 
 Darlinnnr 
 
 145 
 
 " Can't say," was the reply. " I fancy you have 
 some enemy outside. Do you understand ? Any- 
 how, don't ^\\e Jason a chance to report you." 
 
 Griffin took the hint, and was on his guard a^^ainst 
 his new overseer. Yet, within three days, the latter 
 discovered a piece of tobacco in No. 754's bedding, 
 and reported him for being in possession of the con- 
 traband weed. 
 
 When brought to answer the charge, Griffin 
 stoutly denied it, asserting (with perfect truth) that 
 he did not use tobacco, and that the incriminating 
 morsel, if found in his bedding at all, must have been 
 placed there by someone else. 
 
 This defence was summarily rejected by the 
 governor, who sentenced the prisoner to three days' 
 solitary confinement, upon bread and water, and to 
 the loss of certain good-conduct marks, which would 
 have the effect of adding several weeks to his sen- 
 tence. This punishment Griffin endured without any 
 comment. 
 
 A week later Jason asked him some trivial ques- 
 tion in his cell, by way of preliminary, and then, 
 
 producing a newspaper, showed him a marked para- 
 
 10
 
 146 Dartmoor. 
 
 graph. It was an announcement of the marriage of 
 Ethel Conyers to Hugh Darrell. 
 
 Morley Griffin staggered as though struck by a 
 blow. Then he recovered himself. '' Why do you 
 show me this ? " he asked, hoarsely. 
 
 " Because I happen to know Mr. Darrell," was 
 the reply, " and have promised him to keep an eye 
 on you. I rather fancy he wants you to stay here, 
 eh?" 
 
 Morley gave a bitter laugh. " Does that mean 
 that he has bribed you to keep me here ? " he 
 inquired fiercely.' 
 
 " Take it that way, if }ou like," replied Jason. 
 "It's worth my while, anyhow, to make things hot 
 here for you, unless you make it still better worth 
 my while to leave you alone." 
 
 " You scoundrel ! " retorted Morley, seizing his 
 tormentor by the throat. " So sure as you again 
 bring any of 3'our trumped-up charges against me, 
 I '11 strangle 3-ou ! " And, with a jerk, he sent the 
 warder reehng into the corridor. 
 
 That same evening he was charged with using 
 insulting and threatening language, and in defence
 
 Dartmoor. 147 
 
 he described exactly what had taken place. Of 
 course, Jason gave an entirely different version, and 
 equally, of course, his version was accepted. Sentence : 
 Three days' more solitary confinement in the dark 
 cells, with a further loss of good marks. 
 
 It is not too much to say that this second 
 infliction of undeserved punishment, added to the 
 knowledge that Hugh Darrcll was plainl}- seeking to 
 kill him bv inches, or to incite him to the commission 
 of some offence which would postpone his release 
 indefinitel}', converted Morley Griffin, for the time at 
 least, into a thoroughly reckless, desperate man. 
 His thoughts became blacker than the darkness 
 which surrounded him. He pictured himself as one 
 marked out to be the butt of unmerited human 
 vengeance; and, in his despair, he vowed that he 
 too would be avenged if his life paid the penalty. 
 
 Truly his case was a hard one. For the mere 
 
 fact of his having dared to love a girl sought b}- 
 
 an unscrupulous foe, he had been betrayed into 
 
 penal servitude, condemned to pass many of the 
 
 best years of his life in the most loathsome and 
 
 degrading of all forms of slaver}-. The girl whom 
 
 10 *
 
 148 Dartmoor. 
 
 he had loved had at last thrown herself into the arms 
 of his betrayer, who was now plotting his destruction 
 by bribing one of his gaolers to goad him to madness, 
 by having him continually punished for offences 
 which he had not committed. This man, Jason, had 
 threatened to continue his persecution, and his position 
 as warder gave him every facility for doing so. His 
 next move would doubtless be to have him flogged ; 
 it was a wonder he had not alread}- accused him of 
 assaulting him in the cell. Doubtless he was pro- 
 ceeding by degrees, in hopes of bringing him round 
 to his terms ; perhaps he thought that the dark cells 
 would suffice. What if he consented to these terms, 
 and, through Bob Dyver's instrumentality, outbid 
 Hugh Darrell ? With a bitter oath, Morley Griffin 
 thrust this idea from his mind ; and then he deliber- 
 atel}^ weighed the measure of retaliation which he 
 would inflict upon his dastardly persecutor. He had 
 ample time for reflection. 
 
 If he submitted in silence and unresistingly to the 
 endless round of punishments in store for him, his 
 health, and perhaps also his reason, would give way ; 
 and this was clearly Hugh Darrell's object in bribing
 
 Dartmoor. 149 
 
 Jason to persecute him. Passive endurance was, 
 therefore, out of the question. 
 
 If he assaulted him, say in the presence of 
 witnesses, he would be flogged and subjected to 
 further punishment in the dark cells. That would 
 merely be playing into Jason's hands. 
 
 If he "killed him (and Griffin almost convinced 
 himself that the man deserved to be killed like a 
 venomous reptile), then he would be hanged himself, 
 and his hopes of again meeting Hugh Darrell would, 
 of course, be gone for ever. 
 
 There remained the alternative of inflicting upon 
 him injuries which should incapacitate him for service 
 as a warder. This would mean an increment of 
 several years to his sentence, in addition to a flogging. 
 But, as he was firmly resolved to effect his escape long 
 before his present time expired, and infinitely pre- 
 ferred being flogged to being starved and harassed to 
 death, this was the course he finally decided to follow. 
 
 Then his thoughts centred upon Ethel Conyers, 
 and, in the bitterness of his heart, he cursed her for 
 a false jade. This was not altogether just. The 
 girl was neither better nor worse than hundreds of the
 
 150 Dartmoor. 
 
 other butterflies of Society, that are on view and on 
 sale in the marriage-market every London season. 
 But Morley Griffin, as her accepted lover, was 
 naturally disposed to take a very black view indeed 
 of her ready transference of her affections to his 
 deadly enemy. He hugged himself with the thought 
 that ivhcn he settled scores with Hugh Darrell, she, 
 too, should share in the atonement. And then, with 
 a savage sneer against her and her sex, he banished 
 her from his thoughts. 
 
 When Morley's three days were up, and he once 
 more emerged into the light of day, he remained 
 true to his set resolve, and merely awaited an 
 opportunity of carrying it into effect. This did not 
 present itself for more than a week. Jason, apparently 
 with the design of allowing an interval for reflection 
 between his attacks, forbode to molest him during 
 that period. Then he once more presented himself 
 in his victim's cell, keeping, however, a ^\■atchful eye 
 on the latter's movements. 
 
 "Well ! " he said ; " have you thought that matter 
 out ? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Morley, " I have."
 
 Dartmoor. 151 
 
 "And which is it to be — peace or war ? " inquired 
 his janitor. 
 
 "War!" hissed Morley, seizing the intruder, 
 with a swift grip, by the throat, and dragging him 
 into the cell 
 
 Five minutes later a huddled-up heap of humanity 
 lay moaning and groaning in the corridor, and Morley 
 Griffin, calling upon another warder, gave himself, so 
 to speak, into custody as the aggressor upon Warder 
 Jason. He had amply fulfilled his threat. In addition 
 to being terribly pummelled, Jason had sustained a 
 compound fracture of the left leg, which would 
 probably incapacitate him from further active service. 
 The injured man was at once carried off to the 
 infirmary, and Morley was as promptly brought 
 before the governor. 
 
 Now, a great piece of good lortunc had betalleu 
 Morle)'; for during the brief sculfie (such a scuflle 
 as one may see when a bull terrier is worrying a rat) 
 a letter had fallen from Jason's pocket, the hand- 
 writing of which he had at once recognised as Hugh 
 Darrell's. He had read it, and it contained ample
 
 Dartmoor. 
 
 proofs of the understanding that existed between the 
 writer and Jason. Consequently, when Morley had 
 confessed to the assault, and had stated his reasons 
 for committing it, the production of this letter was 
 very strong confirmatory evidence. 
 
 " I have made a note of your statement, prisoner," 
 said the governor, "and I shall retain the letter. The 
 case is too serious for n:ie to adjudicate upon. You 
 will, in due course, be tried by one of the directors." 
 
 Ill the result, the letter saved Morley from the 
 full measure of the exemplary punishment which 
 would otherwise most certainly have been meted out 
 to him. Nothing, his judge decided, could justify 
 an attack by a prisoner upon a warder; but, in view 
 of the extreme provocation received, a light sentence 
 only would be inflicted, and without the customary 
 flogging. This " light " sentence resolved itself into 
 the total loss of the remission upon his original 
 sentence, to which he might otherwise become en- 
 titled, and to three successive incarcerations of three 
 days each, in the dark cells, at intervals of a month. 
 
 "And this you call justice!" exclaimed Morley, 
 bitterly, when the decision was pronounced. Then
 
 Daiiinoor. 153 
 
 he broke out into a passionate denunciaticjn of the 
 wrongs which had been inflicted upon him, such 
 as that Director of Her Majesty's Gaols had never 
 hstened to before. And when, at length, a strong 
 posse of warders succeeded in reuKning him, his 
 voice still rang out loudly and furiously through the 
 passages that led to the punishment cells. 
 
 It may here be mentioned that Warder Jason 
 never again appeared in uniform ; though, whether 
 he was dismissed or allowed to retire, this true 
 chronicle recordeth not. 
 
 And thus it came about that at tlie end of a year 
 from his arrival, Convict No. 754 knew Dartmoor to 
 be in very sooth a hell upon earth, and was himself 
 very generally regarded by those in authority as the 
 most dangerous devil in it. 
 
 The rough brutes by whom he was surrounded 
 lu'ld him in vcvy considerable dread, for he was 
 prompt to resent the smallest approach to a libert\- 
 with a blow, and none cared for a second. He had 
 pounded one ruflian to a jell}- for humorousl\- remark- 
 ing that " he looked as though some cither bloke had 
 spliced on to his best girl."
 
 154 Dartmoor. 
 
 Upon another occasion, he had attacked and 
 badh' mauled three "hfers " for bullying a lad, who 
 appealed to him for protection. Brute force is the 
 one quality these animals respect, and No. 754, or 
 " Gentleman Jack," as he was generally termed, was 
 notoriously the strongest man and the most desperate 
 tighter of them all. One other, indeed, was held 
 to run him pretty close, at least in sheer strength. 
 This was No. gi6, commonly called " The Wolf," 
 a huge Cornishman, of whom it was said that he 
 could carry more hundred-weights upon his back 
 than any man in England. Yet, strange to say, 
 although constantly thrown together, so far from 
 there being any rivalry between the two giants, they 
 seemed to be on fairly good terms, especially after a 
 preliminary battle, in which "Gentleman Jack" had 
 conclusively demonstrated his superiority, with the 
 fists at any rate. Certain it is that they never 
 missed an opportunity of talking together, whether 
 openly, or in that lip language intelligible onl}' to 
 convicts. 
 
 "The Wolf" was a "lifer," reprieved from the 
 gallows. As utterly repulsive a human monster as
 
 Dartmoor. 155 
 
 ever the laws of God or man allowed to live, and 
 with a life-record of such crimes as would have 
 caused many of the least scrupulous members of the 
 chain-gang to shudder, had they but known of them. 
 One such episode, which The Wolf was fond of 
 narrating, bears upon this narrative. 
 
 He had at one time been a sailor, and was ship- 
 wrecked in the Indian Ocean. He and a number of 
 the crew found temporary safety in one of the ship's 
 boats, and, very badly provided with provisions, 
 drifted about in hopes of being seen and rescued by 
 some passing vessel. Soon famine stared them in 
 the face, and the sailor's last, desperate resource — 
 that of drawing lots for one victim to become food 
 for the rest — was resorted to. 
 
 " Now, ye see, mates," explained The Wolf, 
 *' as how I never could abide wi' an empty stummick. 
 When I be proper hungry, I 'se got to eat summat. 
 I'd liever cut off and eat ni}- own arm nor go without. 
 Wal, t" wa_\- we drawed wur 1)\- numbers — lowest 
 t' die. Wc "d drawed twice, and t" third time I 
 tell 'ec, I liad a near squeak for 't. I tlrawed the 
 durued number ineself I Tell "ee. mates, at hrst I
 
 1 =;6 Dartmoor. 
 
 felt like making a fight for "t. But they was seven 
 against me, and besides I was hungry as they wur, 
 or wussur mebbe, and I couldn't bear the idea of 
 dyin'^ with an empty stummick. So, makin' b'lieve 
 I was sayin a prayer same as t' other two coves had 
 done, I gets my grip upon 't gullet of t" bosun, as was 
 a-l}-in' down for'ard very weak-like. In coorse I soon 
 chokes him, and then I slews round, and sez I : 
 "Tain't no manner of use a-killin of me just yit. 
 Here 's t" bosun as has just pegged out ! ' Wal, we 
 eats him, and next day we sights a Swedish barque, 
 and gets picked up. Folks does say as how man's 
 flesh drives them as eats it crazy-like. That 's all a 
 bloomin' yarn. It's a sight better nor an empty 
 stummick, any road ! " 
 
 This was the monster whom Morley Griffin 
 cultivated as an acquaintance; and no further illus- 
 tration need be given of the frame of mind to which 
 his black despair had driven him. But, of course, 
 he had a motive in so doing. He and The Wolf 
 were destined shortly for work with the chain-gang 
 in the quarries ; and for specially heavy labour in 
 cramped spaces, they would most probably, on
 
 Dartmoor. 157 
 
 account of their gigantic strength, be chained together. 
 It would, in this event, be necessary to secure The 
 Wolf's co-operation in a dash for freedom. More- 
 over, he knew every inch of the moor, which was 
 a very important consideration. On his side. The 
 Wolf was perfectly willing to make the attempt, 
 and their frequent conversations all had reference to 
 the details of their plan. 
 
 Luck favoured them. As he had foreseen, an 
 overseer told Morley Griffin one evening that he 
 would next day be yoked with The Wolf, for 
 ledge-work in a distant quarr}- ; and the young giant 
 told himself that, with anything like a reasonable 
 opportunity, this should be his last night in a Dart- 
 moor cell.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE ESCAPE. 
 
 IT was a typical October morning, chilly, damp and 
 grey, as the quarry gang, under strong escort, 
 was mustered and dispatched to the scene of labour, 
 distant some two miles from the prison. In all, the 
 gang numbered some thirty men, of whom more than 
 one-half were ironed in couples by the ankles. With 
 them went two overseers to direct operations, and 
 eight warders, armed with rifles, to guard against all 
 possibility of outbreak or attempt at escape. Pro- 
 minent amongst the prisoners towered the figures of 
 Morley Griffin and The Wolf ; and, from the 
 sullen fierceness of the latter's looks, as his eyes 
 wandered fron; the escort to his companion's face, it 
 was evident that something untoward had happened. 
 " Eight of 'em," he whispered, hoarsely. " They 
 didn't use to send more nor four or five at most. 
 And these irons wot they 've guv us is extry thick 
 'uns. 'Tain't no go, Master." For some reason or 
 
 158
 
 The Escape. 159 
 
 other (possibly begotten of instinctive respect), he 
 always addressed Morley as " Master." 
 
 " Hold your confounded tongue ! " was the reply, 
 in the same growling undertone. " Can't you see 
 they're watching us ? How often do 3'ou want to be 
 told that we must wait for our chance ? It may be 
 to-day or it may be next month, but sooner or later 
 it must come ! " 
 
 The Cornishman gave a grunt of sulky ac(jui- 
 escence and, artfully conveying a piece of tobacco to 
 his mouth, plodded along in silence. It was his 
 great boast that he was never without " snout " 
 (which is thieves' argot for the prohibited luxury). 
 
 Morley was himself bitterly disappointed to see 
 the extra precautions that had been taken, more 
 especially as it speedily became apparent that three 
 of the warders had been specially detailed off to 
 watch him and The ^^^olf. The authorities clearly 
 suspected his design, and, whilst their official dignity 
 debarred them from openly admitting the possibility 
 of its accomplishment, by keeping him within the 
 prison walls the}- had taken effective measures to 
 block it. For two heavily ironed men to escape
 
 i6o Dartmoor. 
 
 from the custody of eight well-armed warders was 
 clearly beyond the range of probabilities. 
 
 The chapter of accidents, however, may upset the 
 most careful calculations. At about three o'clock, 
 one of the sudden, heavy mists for which Dartmoor 
 is notorious arose ; and, as is invariably done in such 
 a case, the senior warder immediately ordered the 
 gang to "knock off" work, which the men did 
 willingly enough. 
 
 " Fall in there ! Come, hurry up ! " came the 
 command, as the prisoners slouched through the fast 
 deepening mist into double file. " Forward ! Quick 
 March ! " And the column started prisonwards to 
 the accompaniment of the clanking irons. 
 
 Thicker and thicker grew the mist, until it 
 became difficult for those in the rearmost ranks to 
 make out the head of the column. Morley Griffin's 
 heart beat fast. Such an opportunity might not 
 occur again. 
 
 " Now for it ! " he bawled into the ear of his 
 companion, and, swerving suddenly to one side, the 
 two desperadoes hobbled as quickly as they could 
 into the thickening fog. Disregarding the escort's
 
 The Escape. t6i 
 
 challenge to halt, they threw themselves prone to 
 earth, just in time to allow a volley of bullets to 
 whistle over their heads. Then they crawled upon 
 their hands and knees for a short distance and, 
 springinj^' to their feet, hastened back towards the 
 quarry which they had just left. They could now 
 see nothing of the column, and, of course, the warders 
 could see nothing of them, although from the con- 
 tinuous discharge of the rifles, it was evident that 
 they stood in considerable danger from chance shots. 
 It probably did not occur to the warders that the\- 
 would take the direction of the quarry ; and yet 
 Morley saw at once that their first effort must be to 
 break their fetters by means of one of the sledge- 
 hammers left there. This idea he hurriedly commu- 
 nicated to The Wolf, whose knowledge of the 
 ground now stood them in good stead. 
 
 " All right. Master," he answered. " I could find 
 the tools blindfold. Come along ! " 
 
 In a few minutes they reached the spot where the 
 
 sledges were lying. Bidding his companion to lie 
 
 prone and to hold the head of a sledge as an an\il 
 
 beneath the bars of the chain, Morley brought down 
 
 II
 
 t62 Dartmoor. 
 
 a second sledge with the full force of his mighty right 
 arm. It was impossible to wield the weapon with 
 b^th hands, from the position of the chain : and no 
 one, save a giant, could have swung the ponderous 
 hammer in one hand. The jar upon their limbs was 
 agonizing, and the risk of breaking the bones of the 
 leg considerable ; but the pain and the risk had to be 
 encountered. It took nearly a dozen blows before 
 the bar finally snapped and they were freed from one 
 another, although, of course, each still retained an 
 iron anklet and portion of the broken chain. 
 
 At this moment the loud boom of a cannon pro- 
 claimed that the prison officials understood what had 
 occurred, and thus announced to the many hundreds 
 of free labourers resident upon the moor that a 
 prisoner or prisoners had escaped, and that there 
 was blood-money to be earned. 
 
 "Now, then!"' cried Morley Grifiin. "You know 
 the way. Steer straight for some outlying hamlet 
 ^vhere there's a forge. We must get these irons off, 
 first thing. After that, we must trust to chance to 
 get hold of some clothes, and then we'll have a show 
 of getting clear away."
 
 The Escape. 163 
 
 "Right y' are, Master!" replied The Wolf. 
 " Keep ye close on my heels ! " 
 
 And away they started through the dense fog at 
 as near an approach to a run as their fetters would 
 permit. 
 
 Through the grey mist the}- ran, or tried to run, 
 for fully a mile, Morley following his companion's 
 lead blindly ; and, indeed. The Wolf seemed to 
 have no hesitation about his course. Suddenly he 
 heard a warning cry, felt himself tripping over a 
 prostrate body, and fell — fell — fell into what seemed 
 to be a bottomless abyss ! * 
 
 "Gone, by G !" muttered The Wolf, 
 
 craning his neck over a precipitous edge. '' I 'd have 
 sworn t' Black Gap wur a good furlong i" other gait ! 
 . . . He 's a stiff 'un b\' now, is the Master, and 
 'tain't no manner of use me waitin' here ! " So 
 saj'ing, The Wolf resumed his jog-trot in an 
 easterly direction, intent doubtless upon plundering 
 a forge or a farm-house, or both. 
 
 Had Morley Griffin fallen as his companion 
 supposed, certain death awaited him. The Black 
 Gap is nothing else than a yawning chasm, giving 
 
 II ■"
 
 164 Dartmoor. 
 
 upon a disused quarry, and with an almost sheer 
 descent of nearly two hundred feet. As it happened, 
 however, he chanced to fall at almost the only spot 
 where the descent is not quite sheer, a projecting 
 slope, covered with stunted timber and undergrowth, 
 arresting his downward course some forty feet below 
 the surface. He felt the fearful crash, which seemed 
 to shatter every bone in his body, was dimly con- 
 scious of rolling over and of instinctively clutching 
 at the tangled undergrowth, and then he remembered 
 no more. 
 
 When he recovered consciousness, the moon was 
 shining fitfully through dense masses of flying scud, 
 and he was able to make out his position. He had 
 rolled to within a yard of the edge of the slope, where 
 the trunk and protruding roots of a dwarf ash had 
 arrested his downward progress. Forty feet above 
 was the edge from which he had fallen ; more than a 
 hundred feet below was a small, darkly-gleaming 
 surface, which he knew to be water, surrounded by 
 broken masses of rock. He was in great pain ; his 
 body seemed to be one large bruise ; and he was 
 deadly cold. His first impulse was to ascertain how
 
 The Escape. 165 
 
 many of his bones had escaped fracture. To his 
 intense relief, his hmbs were all sound, though his 
 right ankle was badly sprained and two of his smaller 
 ribs appeared to be broken. His head, face, and 
 hands, too, had been cut and skinned in places ; but 
 beyond these minor injuries and a general sensation 
 of agonizing soreness, he was practically unhurt. 
 
 Then arose the momentous question, how could 
 he extricate himself from his critical position ? To 
 attempt to ascend was clearly hopeless ; the ledge 
 upon which he lay was an isolated projection. 
 Below were the rocks and the water. Craning his 
 neck over the edge, he dropped a stone and counted. 
 It took a little over two seconds to strike the water, 
 which he therefore judged must be about one hundred 
 and twenty feet from where he lay. Doubtless there 
 existed some means of exit from the bottom of the 
 quarry, could he but reach it. Yet to dive from such 
 a fearful height, into a small pool of possibly shallow 
 water, looked like deliberate suicide. 
 
 Morley reflected. If he waited, no doubt a search- 
 party would discover him and seek to rescue him by 
 means of ropes. If The \\'..lf were re-captured
 
 i66 Dartmoor. 
 
 (as, alone, he most likely would be) he would certainly 
 tell of his companion's fate. At any moment a search- 
 party might appear upon the scene, and this to him 
 meant death ; for he had sworn to himself that he 
 would never again enter the prison alive. The dive 
 might mean death also ; it certainly would, if the 
 water were shallow or if he missed it and struck upon 
 a rock. But it offered at least a chance of life, and 
 this chance he determined to take. Despite his 
 efforts to be quite steady, his breath came hard and 
 quick through his set teeth as he stood upon the brink 
 nerving himself for the plunge. Then he inflated his 
 lungs to their fullest, poised himself for a second, his 
 hands glued to his thighs, and sprang feet foremost 
 into the abyss ! 
 
 The water was deep, and, assisted by the weight 
 of his leg-irons, he struck it vertically as a descending 
 arrow. Presently he rose to the surface and some- 
 what feebly (for he was half dazed, and his fetters 
 hampered him greatly) swam to a spot where a rift 
 in the encircling wall of rock seemed to indicate an 
 exit of some sort. 
 
 For several minutes after dragging himself from
 
 The Escape. 167 
 
 the water he lay unable to move, panting, and half 
 frozen. But he by-and-by recovered himself and, 
 having squeezed out his wet clothes, followed the 
 opening which he had discovered. It gave upon a 
 pathway, steep and very uneven, which had, at some 
 period or other, been used in the transport of the 
 quarry-stone. A quarter of an hour later he stood, 
 beneath the cloud-swept sky, upon the Moor. A keen 
 wind seemed to drive the moisture of his garments 
 into his very bones, and his teeth rattled like castanets. 
 His sprained ankle caused him acute suffering at 
 every step, whilst the weight of the irons which 
 encircled his other leg made it yet more difficult for 
 him to limp along. Nevertheless, the thought of his 
 last desperate feat nerved him for further effort, and 
 he resolutely set his face southward, with but one 
 immediate object in view — to gain a human habitation 
 of some sort where, by entreaties or by force, he might 
 procure a change of raiment, food, and, above all, a file. 
 How interminable seemed that dreary expanse of 
 Moor! In the distance he could discern a belt of 
 timber, towards which he was making his way ; but 
 this was still several miles off and, in his crippled
 
 i68 Darliiioui\ 
 
 condition, each step that he took was martyrdom. 
 Several times he nearly decided to throw himself 
 prone amongst the bracken and await the death 
 which he had sworn should precede recapture ; but 
 his dauntless courage still kept him moving. After 
 many hours of torture, he reached a copse and lost 
 no time in breaking off a stout sapling to serve as a 
 staff. The moon by this time was waning, and he 
 struggled forward lest darkness should overtake him 
 in the wood. Then, unless his e3'es had deceived 
 him, he saw a faint light which, as he advanced 
 towards it, disappeared, only to reappear a minute 
 later. With desperate eagerness he staggered on- 
 wards until he stood within a few yards of where it 
 had last been visible. 
 
 Suddenly, and as though arising from the earth, 
 a man confronted him. " Who are }'ou ? " he in- 
 quired, gruffly, " and what are you doing here ? " 
 
 " I saw a light and followed it," answered Morley, 
 simply. " I am half dead with wet, cold, and hunger." 
 
 " Good passports, whoever you are, to lire and 
 food," said the stranger. " Come; follow me. Lame, 
 eh ? "
 
 The Escape. 169 
 
 " Yes," assented the fugitive, limping after his 
 new guide. Presently they reached a cottage, half 
 hidden in the dense timber growth. 
 
 The stranger paused. " Tramp ?"" he asked, 
 briefly. 
 
 " No," was the reply. " I have irons on my leg 
 and the Government brand on my clothes. I escaped 
 last evening, or this evening — I know not which — 
 from the chain-gang." 
 
 The stranger gave a long, soft whistle. " An es- 
 caped convict ! " he exclaimed. " Well, that 's no 
 reason why you should perish of cold and hunger ; 
 bat it 's a very good reason for cutting short your 
 stay here. The warders will overhaul Dene Hollow 
 to a certainty at daybreak. However, come inside, 
 and welcome ! " 
 
 For the first time since his arrival at Dartmoor, 
 Morley Griffin felt his heart soften towards his fellow- 
 man. What Good Samaritan could this be who, 
 knowing what he was, thus offered him Ivud and 
 warmth ? Together they entered a large, lo\N-roofed 
 kitchen, lighted only by a blazing log upon the hearth. 
 A ver}- old woman was seated at one side, crooning
 
 170 Dartmoor^ 
 
 to herself; whilst a young girl was preparing the 
 table for supper. An old-fashioned clock ticked 
 solemnly in a corner and indicated five minutes to 
 eleven as the hour. The bright glow of the fire was 
 reflected from burnished cooking utensils, and lit up 
 the huge dresser with its rows of crockery ware. 
 Everything around spelt comfort in unmistakable 
 characters. 
 
 Involuntarily, Morley slunk into the corner nearest 
 the door, which was also the darkest, at the same 
 time glancing hurriedly at his conductor. A tall, 
 thick-set man about fifty years of age, dressed in a 
 rough tweed suit, indicative of no particular calling, 
 but distinctly not of bucolic cut. His accent, too, 
 had struck Morley as that of an educated man ; in- 
 deed, he had half expected to see him in clerical garb. 
 
 " Myra," said his host, " I have brought with me 
 a guest, and a hungry one. See that supper does 
 not run short, child." 
 
 Myra glanced timidly at the stranger and, even 
 in the dim light of the corner, could not fail to recog- 
 nise the hideous convict garb, familiar to all residents 
 around Dartmoor. Yet, beyond a shght start, she
 
 The Escape. 171 
 
 betrayed no surprise, and proceeded to make sundry 
 additions to the meal in the quietest manner possible. 
 
 Her father surveyed his guest attentively, and then, 
 apf)arently di\ining the cause of his embarrassment, 
 beckoned to him to follow, and led him into a well- 
 furnished bedroom where, also, a good fire was 
 burning. 
 
 " Rightly or wrongly," he remarked, " I 've taken 
 it into my head that there is as much good as bad in 
 you. Anyhow, I 'm going to give you a better chance 
 of escape than you otherwise would have. Peel off 
 those tell-tale wet clothes, rub yourself dry before 
 the fire, and put on what I 'm going to hunt you up." 
 
 In a few minutes he produced from a wardrobe 
 an old but warm suit of clothes and some under-wear. 
 
 " Whilst you 're changing," he added, " I '11 fetch 
 a couple of tools to knock off the irons. There ! 
 Never mind thanks. You luok them quite enough for 
 me." 
 
 Morley was still rough-towelling his muscular 
 shoulders and chest when his host returned with a 
 hammer, a file, and a steel punch, with which he at 
 once attacked the ft-ttcrs.
 
 172 Dartmoor. 
 
 " Ever been in the show business ? " he inquired, 
 glancing at the young giant's swelHng biceps. " One 
 seldom sees muscles like yours except amongst pro- 
 fessionals." 
 
 "No," answered Morley, "but I used to be con- 
 sidered as strong as most of them." 
 
 " So I should imagine," rejoined the other, filing 
 away at the head of the rivet. " I got amongst them 
 for once, and used to show as the Fire King. There ! 
 now stand steady a moment ! " And, with a few 
 blows upon the punch, the irons fell upon the floor. 
 " What 's up with your other ankle ? Looks swollen. 
 Sprain, eh ? By George, yes ! and a bad one too. 
 You won't be fit to walk for a week at least." 
 
 "Then I must hop," said Morley, "for, with the 
 splendid chance your clothes give me of escape, I 
 shall get away as far and as fast as I can, if I have 
 to crawl on all fours." 
 
 " Humph ! " was his host's comment. " Well, at 
 all events, come and eat your supper. I must say 
 the clothes (although they are a tight fit) have effected 
 a great improvement in your appearance." 
 
 The two men sat down to a substantial meal.
 
 The Escape. 173 
 
 Myra waiting upon them. The old woman (a 
 worn-out circus rider, as Morley learnt) had retired. 
 It is wonderful what an effect a good supper, washed 
 down by old ale, can produce upon a healthy young 
 man situated as he was. It was the first pleasant 
 hour he had passed since his arrest, and lost nothing 
 by contrast with his late terrible experiences. With 
 his odious convict's dress he seemed to have thrown 
 off the moroseness into which he had habitually sunk, 
 and to resume much of his former self. 
 
 He saw plainly that his host was devoured by 
 curiosity (or, it might be, by a worthier motive) to 
 learn his story ; and so, merely suppressing names, 
 he briefly narrated it. He probably told it well, and 
 with a ring of truth that forced cr)nviction upon his 
 hearers, for they listened with breathless attention. 
 Late as was the hour, her father made no objection 
 to Myra's sitting up to hear it to the end, which she 
 did — hanging upon Morley's words as though spell- 
 bound. When he came to describe his fall and 
 subsequent di\e at the IMack Gap, his host sprang 
 to his feet in irrepressible excitcnient. 
 
 "By Heaven!" he cried. " A guilt)' man. who
 
 174 Dartmoor. 
 
 would risk that for freedom, deserves it ! But a 
 
 man, a gentleman, betrayed into servitude 
 
 See here, sir ! I had intended to bid you God-speed 
 this very night, so soon as your hunger was appeased. 
 And, were 3-our ankle sound, I would still say go — 
 for your own sake. But, as it is, we must make shift 
 to hide you until you are able to walk. With the 
 hue and cry that will be raised after you and the 
 other prisoner, it would be madness to dream of 
 concealing you here. Fortunately, however, I have 
 a retreat where you will be safe from all pursuit, and, 
 though it's a rough sort of place, the sooner you 
 gain it the better. It is impossible to say at what 
 hour a search-party may not arrive to scour the 
 neighbourhood. Myra, child, put up some food in a 
 basket, and fetch some thick blankets." 
 
 The girl eagerly obeyed, whilst her father gave a 
 great-coat and a warm cap to his guest, together with 
 a stout stick to assist him in walking. Then throwing 
 the blankets across Morley's shoulders and bidding 
 him take his arm, they sallied forth into the night, 
 Myra following with the basket.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DENE HOLLOW. 
 
 DESPITE the assistance of his host's supporting 
 arm and of his stick, it was with the utmost 
 difficulty and in very acute pain that Morley 
 managed to hmp along. At a distance of about a 
 quarter of a mile from the cottage, the sound of 
 falling water became audible, and, bidding Morley 
 await their return, father and daughter cautiously 
 groped their way in advance. Presently the former 
 came back. 
 
 " Give me the blankets," he said. " You '11 have 
 to crawl after me as best as you can for about 
 twenty yards. I "11 show a light when we come to a 
 man-hole, where there 's a ladder by which we '11 
 have to descend." 
 
 Obeying these instructions, Morley presently 
 found himself in a fair-sized grotto or cave, some 
 thirty feet below the surface. His guide at once lit 
 a large suspended lamp, by the light of which he 
 made out what appeared to be a furnace surmounted 
 
 175
 
 lyf^ Dartmoor. 
 
 by a boiler, from which ran a number of spiral- 
 shaped tubes, all terminating^ in a large earthenware 
 jar. He scarcely needed to be told that this was a 
 still, and that his benefactor was simply a manu- 
 facturer of contraband spirits. A second smaller 
 cave was roughly fitted up as a sort of sitting-room, 
 with cooking appliances, a camp-bedstead, a table, 
 some chairs, and a few books upon a hanging-shelf. 
 Myra, who had of course preceded them, was busy 
 arranging the contents of the basket in a small 
 cupboard. 
 
 " You can guess the nature of my business, I 
 suppose," remarked his host. " My name is Walter 
 Gradwell, and I am the nearest approach to the old- 
 fashioned smuggler possible, I imagine, nowadays. 
 I do as much or as little trade as I choose. 
 I can always find a market for my stuff, and, as 
 there are not half-a-dozen men in the county who 
 know what my occupation is, and as they are all in 
 the same swim, I run but little risk. No one not in 
 the secret could possibly discover the entrance to 
 this place. Perhaps you**ll see me at work here to- 
 morrow, unless I find too manv on the look-out for
 
 Dene Hollow. 
 
 177 
 
 you, to leave home safely. Anyhow, I '11 come as 
 soon as possible. Meanwhile, you '11 find plenty to 
 eat and drink here, and there are a few standard 
 books to help you kill the time. So make yourself 
 as snug as you can, and make your mind easy as 
 regards any risk of recapture whilst you are here. 
 Come along, Myra. Good-bye for the present." 
 
 And with a hearty handshake, supplemented by 
 a pretty little curtsy and a half-timid "Good- 
 night " from Myra, Walter Gradwell and his 
 daughter ascended the ladder and left their guest 
 to his own reflections, followed by the latter's heart- 
 felt protestations of his gratitude. 
 
 Left to himself, Morley sat down for a few 
 minutes to think over the marvellous good fortune 
 that had befallen him. A few short hours ago he 
 was a. desperate and despairing man in the very last 
 depths of wretchedness, physical and mental. Now 
 he was assured of food and shelter, he was comfort- 
 ably clad, and he was apparently safe from his 
 pursuers. Perhaps he might be allowed to stay on 
 until pursuit should have died out, in the belief that 
 
 he had perished upon the moor or had escaped to 
 
 12
 
 178 Dartmoor. 
 
 the coast. He found some rather fiery spirits in the 
 Clipboard, together with a pipe and tobacco. With 
 portion of the spirits he prepared a lotion for his 
 sprained ankle ; and then, mixing himself a weak 
 glass of grog, he lay down and smoked and thought. 
 
 One by one the events of the bitter Past rose 
 before him, and his face hardened into a terrible 
 expression as he repeated the name of the false 
 friend to whom he owed the shipwreck of his young 
 hfe. 
 
 " Aye," he muttered, " determination such as 
 mine must succeed ; even the chapter of accidents at 
 last favours me. Let me but recover the use of my 
 leg, and I '11 soon be upon his track. I wonder if he 
 will see a report of my escape in the newspapers ? 
 If so, he '11 not believe in my death ! He will hurry 
 away to hide himself abroad, most likely. But, by 
 Heaven ! I '11 track him down, if I have to follow him 
 to the remotest corner of the earth ! And when I 
 do — I '11 kill him, for the venomous reptile that he 
 is!" 
 
 There was no trace of wild passion in all this. 
 It was simply the fixed resolve of a determined man
 
 De7ie Hollow. 179 
 
 to avenge himself upon his foe. Some thought he 
 gave to Ethel Conyers, but it was merely con- 
 temptuous. She had believed him to be guilty, and 
 she had married his betrayer. Well, she was a 
 woman. Perhaps in killing her husband, he would 
 also punish her ; or perhaps she was, by this time, 
 as false to Darrell as she had been to him. He 
 cared nothing, either way. 
 
 Then there was Bob Dyver. Dear old Bob ! He 
 must contrive, with Mr. Gradwell's help, to write to 
 him and let him know all that had occurred. 
 Lastly there arose the more recent vision of a 
 girlish figure in a neat black dress, and of large, 
 pitying brown eyes which had told their own tale of 
 sympathy with him in his great sufferings. Indeed, 
 his very last thoughts were of Myra Gradwell ere he 
 fell into a dreamless sleep. 
 
 A man who has gone through Morley Griffin's 
 late experiences will sleep a great many hours, if 
 undisturbed ; and it was probably late in the after- 
 noon when he awoke, feeling considerably refreshed 
 but so stiff that he could scarcely move. The huge 
 
 lamp was still burning, and he made shift to trim it 
 
 12 =■=
 
 i8o Dartmoor. 
 
 and to replenish it with oil ; but he felt unequal to 
 the task of preparing some tea. So he broke his 
 fast with the contents of Myra's basket, applied 
 fresh lotion to his ankle, and was glad to lie down 
 again in expectation of a visit from Mr. Gradwell. 
 He satisfied himself that the ribs, which he had 
 supposed broken, were merely badly bruised, as in- 
 deed was his whole body from head to foot. More 
 than ever he realised how utterly hopeless would 
 have been his condition had he not so providentially 
 fallen across this haven of refuge ; and heartfelt 
 indeed were his thanks to his law-breaking bene- 
 factor, as he lay coiled up in his blankets. He 
 killed the time, as best he could, reading, smoking, 
 eating, and drinking a well-diluted mixture of his 
 host's potent spirit. After his prison life, the mere 
 fact of having absolutely nothing to do was in itself 
 a newly found source of happiness. 
 
 In point of fact, Mr. Gradwell did not make his 
 appearance until the evening of the following day. 
 He brought with him a plentiful supply of provisions, 
 and informed Morley that, as he had foreseen, a 
 search-party of warders had visited the cottage,
 
 Dene Hollow. i8i 
 
 some of whom had hung about the neighbourhood, 
 off and on, ever since. They were very eager to 
 recapture the prisoners, whose escape they regarded 
 as a disgrace to the whole staff, and had offered him 
 a large reward should he be able to send a hint to 
 the prison as to their whereabouts. Not until he 
 had seen the last of them well away had he deemed 
 it prudent to venture near the cave. 
 
 "You see," he added, "Dene Hollow is one of 
 the likeliest places an escaped prisoner would make 
 for ; and it used to be rather famous in the olden 
 days as a haunt for outlaws. However, so far they 
 suspect nothing, though it 's likely enough they '11 
 watch the neighbourhood for a week or so to come. 
 How 's the foot ? Better ? That 's a good hearing. 
 I 've brought you some fresh bandages and a bottle 
 of Elliman. You must move about as little as pos- 
 sible ; I '11 arrange all you require, within reach." 
 
 And thereupon this big-hearted contrabrandist 
 proceeded to explain how his guest was to manage 
 the hot-water lamp, where he could lay his hands 
 upon various articles ; and, lastly, he gave him a 
 watch.
 
 1 82 DartmooY. 
 
 ** Now," he concluded, " I '11 just have one pipe 
 with you, and a glass of grog. I don't care to be 
 away from the cottage very long, in case of 
 accidents." 
 
 After half-an-hour's cheerful conversation, and 
 having promised to dispatch Morley's letter to Bob 
 Dyver, he rose to depart. 
 
 " You may expect me," he said, " at about five 
 o'clock to-morrow ; but if anything occurs to prevent 
 my coming, I '11 send Myra. Keep your spirits 
 up!" 
 
 "And this man," thought Morley, "is what the 
 Law would call a criminal, because he gains his 
 livelihood at the expense of the Excise. Were he a 
 law-abiding citizen, no doubt he would have betrayed 
 me to my pursuers, and have profited by the blood- 
 money offered for my recapture. It is lucky for me 
 he isn't ! " , 
 
 Rest and Elliman did wonders. At the end of 
 four days Morley informed his host, who had found 
 opportunity to visit him each day, that he felt well 
 enough for the road. 
 
 "Well, that's good news," replied Gradwell,
 
 Dene Hollow. 183 
 
 " and I daresay you are pretty well tired of existence 
 down here. But the hue-and-cry is hotter than ever 
 just at present, and you 'd scarcely stand the ghost 
 of a chance of getting away. Isolated as my place 
 is, I don't hear much of what is going on ; but this 
 morning I had another visit from a party of police 
 and warders. It seems the whole country-side is in 
 a state of ferment. What sort of a man is the other 
 prisoner who escaped ? " 
 
 " About the lowest type of an incarnate brute 
 that ever cheated the gallows," replied Morley. "He 
 is a giant in size and strength, and a perfect tiger 
 in ferocity. He was known in the prison as 'The 
 Wolf,' and fully deserves the epithet." 
 
 " Then no doubt the police are right," exclaimed 
 Gradwell ; " and he has added at least two more 
 murders to his record ! Three days ago a cottage, 
 about five miles from here, was broken into, a 
 woman was murdered, and her child, aged five years, 
 probably killed also, although its body has not been 
 found. Yesterday, in quite a different locality, two 
 lads returning home from school were pursued by a 
 very big man, dressed in some sort of old sack, and
 
 184 Dartmoor. 
 
 yelling like a demon. They fled in different direc- 
 tions. One escaped, but the other has not since 
 been heard of. Is your man mad ? " 
 
 " No; at least, he was never so considered. But 
 he is quite capable of committing murder without 
 the excuse of insanity." 
 
 '.' Very likely," persisted Gradwell ; "but these 
 acts seem to be those of a madman. What motive 
 could he have ? " 
 
 A terrible suspicion flashed across Morley's mind. 
 
 "Great God ! " he cried. " If, after many days 
 of exposure and starvation upon the moor, The Wolf's 
 reason has really given way, one ghastly explanation 
 is possible ! Listen." And he narrated Number 
 gi6's experiences amongst the shipwrecked crew. 
 
 Both Morley and his host were men of what may 
 justly be described as iron nerve ; yet, when Morley 
 had finished, they looked at each other with horror- 
 stricken eyes and blanched cheeks. 
 
 Gradwell sprang to his feet. 
 
 " This brute," he cried, " by his own showing 
 has been a cannibal, and boasts of it ! He is now, 
 I am convinced, a raving maniac, and a craving for
 
 Dene Hollow. i8= 
 
 human flesh is the one idea in his mind. He is at 
 large in a wild district, where the habitations are 
 few and far apart. He must be hunted down like a 
 wild beast ! Upon this point at least I am with the 
 police ; and what 's more, I '11 head a party myself. 
 I have my own ideas of Duty, such as they are, and 
 they speak pretty plainly here. With a couple of 
 men, such as I can lay hands upon, and who, like 
 myself, know every nook and cranny in the district, 
 we 'II soon bring this human tiger to bay ! " 
 
 "Would that I could accompany you ! " answered 
 Morley, who felt in a measure responsible for The 
 Wolf's escape, although, of course, he could not have 
 foreseen its dire consequences. " But consider the 
 danger of leaving your daughter unprotected in the 
 cottage." 
 
 " You 're right," assented Gradwell regretfully. 
 " I can't leave her. . . . Yet stay. If The Wolf 
 should attack the cottage — and what more likely, 
 seeing how isolated it stands ? — and succeed in over- 
 powering me, Myra would be at his mercy. From 
 3'our description of him, I would be no match for him 
 if he took me unawares and without a revolver in my
 
 i86 Dartmoor, 
 
 hand, and I can't keep guard night and day. I tell 
 you what it is, sir. Until The Wolf is caught or killed, 
 the safest place for Myra and for old Janet will be 
 down here in the cave." 
 
 " There is much force in what you say," assented 
 Morley, " if your daughter can put up with such 
 rough quarters." 
 
 " Trust her for that," was the reply. " Safety is 
 more important than comfort, anyhow. My mind is 
 quite made up on the matter. I '11 bring her and 
 Janet early to-morrow morning and leave them 
 under your protection whilst I and my men are 
 tracking down The Wolf. You see I trust you, sir, 
 although you are an * escaped convict ! ' " 
 
 Instinctively the two right hands met in a cordial 
 grip. 
 
 " I don't suppose it 's likely that The Wolf will 
 stumble across this hiding-place," said Morley, 
 quietly. " But, in any case, I think I can promise 
 you that Miss Gradwell will be safe. I believe I am 
 a little bit stronger even than The Wolf," he added, 
 with a slight smile. 
 
 *' Oh ! I shall have no fear once Myra is down
 
 Dene Hollow. 187 
 
 here," answered Gradwell. " Meanwhile I '11 get back 
 home. There's no telling where and when that 
 murderous savage may turn up next." And, so 
 saying, he hurried off to put his newly-formed plan 
 into execution.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE WOLF. 
 
 TRUE to his word, Mr. Gradwell returned next 
 morning, accompanied by Myra and the old 
 circus-rider, and followed by two stalwart fellows 
 bearing a liberal supply of bedding and provisions. 
 
 "These are two law-breakers like myself," he 
 explained, " but, like me, they have homes to defend, 
 and mean to do it. I have an idea that The Wolf, 
 as you call him, is skulking about a place some six 
 miles from here, and that 's where we are going to 
 look for him. It may be he has gone further afield, 
 and if we find reason to think so, we shall follow 
 him up. So, as likely as not, you won't see me 
 again for a couple of days. Good-bye, sir ! I leave 
 all that I have most precious to me in this world in 
 your care. Good-bye, Myra lass ! Remember, you 
 are now under Mr. Griffin's charge, and you must 
 on no account venture out until I return. Ta, ta, 
 old girl ! Got your knitting all right ? That 's the 
 
 i88
 
 The Wolf. 189 
 
 style. Don't forget those woollen socks you pro- 
 mised me. Come along, my lads! " 
 
 Of course Myra and the old woman had Morley's 
 late quarters, whilst he arranged a shake-down for 
 himself in the larger cave. Myra evidently knew 
 the place well. She explained to Morley that some 
 empty casks in one corner concealed the entrance to 
 a third cave, from which access could be gained to 
 a ravine. In this cave were stored sacks of grain, 
 used in the process of distilling, kegs of manufac- 
 tured spirit, oil, and the various other necessary 
 supplies. 
 
 They soon became very good friends, Morley 
 taking a keen interest in the sayings and doings of 
 his pretty companion, whilst she clearly regarded 
 him with a Miranda-like wonder and admiration. 
 As for old Janet, however valuable her presence 
 might be as a guardian of the proprieties, she 
 crouched by the lamp-stove, knitting and crooning 
 to herself, and paying little or no heed to the young 
 people. 
 
 Under such circumstances, it was scarcely to be 
 wondered if friendship quickly ripened into some-
 
 I go Dartmoor. 
 
 thing near akin to a very much stronger feehng. 
 Thrown together as they were, they got a clearer 
 insight into each other's characters and tastes in a 
 few hours than would have been possible, under ordi- 
 nary conditions, in as many months. There chanced 
 to be several poetical works amongst the books, and 
 these, as read aloud by Morley, added fuel to the 
 fire. In plain English, they were going through that 
 ancient but still popular process known as falling in 
 love, at lightning speed. 
 
 I do not think that I have as yet described the 
 young girl. Well, it is easily done — in outline ; but 
 there was a certain piquant charm of manner that 
 was not shyness, although near akin to it, and an 
 indefinable something of perfect innocence and tho- 
 roughness about her, which I can find no words to 
 convey. To begin with, she was eighteen, tall, and 
 willowy as a young ash-plant ; a wealth of rich 
 brown hair, which it seemed a shame to tie up in a 
 coronet ; dark brown eyes, fringed by unusually long 
 lashes ; complexion naturally fair, but tanned to a 
 richer hue than one sees in Regent Street. I think 
 the nose was just the least bit in the world retroussd,
 
 The Wolf. 191 
 
 but certainly it had no just cause (unless it were 
 jealousy) to turn away from the sweet little Cupid's- 
 bow mouth. Oh, dear, dear! That little mouth! 
 When Myra Gradwell sat with her lips parted, just 
 enough to show a glimpse of her small pearly teeth, 
 the temptation to kiss them was almost more than 
 Morley could resist. Yet, so far, greatly to his 
 credit, he had resisted it. 
 
 Myra's great delight was to make him tell her 
 his story over and over again. Upon one of these 
 occasions he referred somewhat bitterly to Hugh 
 Darrell's marriage. 
 
 "Was she very beautiful when you knew her?" 
 asked Myra, for whom ever}thing connected with 
 Ethel Conyers seemed to have an especial attraction. 
 
 "Yes," replied Morley, "she was very — very 
 beautiful." 
 
 Myra gave a little sigh — of sympathy, doubtless, 
 in Morley's loss of this very beautiful creature. 
 
 " I think, now, that I only loved her for her 
 beauty," added Morley, thoughtfully, " for it all died 
 in my heart when I learnt that she had married my 
 betrayer."
 
 ig2 Dartmoor. 
 
 Upon one point Myra was very firm indeed. She 
 would not hear of any such thing as revenge upon 
 Darrell ; and she easily gathered from Morley's 
 manner, if not from his words, that he contemplated 
 vengeance. 
 
 " No ! " she exclaimed, her beautiful eyes kindling 
 with a noble enthusiasm. " Such an idea is un- 
 worthy of you. Now you are a martyr ; but if you 
 seek merely to avenge yourself, you sink to the level 
 of the bad man who wronged you. Leave him to 
 Heaven and to his own guilty conscience. They will 
 avenge you ! " 
 
 And somehow, when sA^^preached these words 
 of forgiveness, much of the rankling bitterness 
 seemed to die -out of Morley's heart. 
 
 Upon the second day after her father's departure, 
 Myra became very restless and anxious ; and, at last, 
 she insisted upon ascending the ladder and watching 
 for his coming. 
 
 " It 's dead against orders," said Morley, smiling; 
 " but, as you say, there can be no harm in your 
 waiting at the man-hole, and, I daresay, a little fresh 
 air will do you good."
 
 The Wolf. 193 
 
 At the same time he resolved to keep her well 
 within view; and fortunate it was that he did so. 
 
 Once at the surface, the temptation to wander a 
 short distance into the wood and gather a few ferns 
 became too strong to resist. She had gone perhaps 
 a hundred yards from the narrow opening, through 
 the undergrowth, and was pulling at a tough fern, 
 when a rustling sound startled her, and, looking up, 
 she beheld a sight which momentarily paralysed her 
 with terror. Stealthily stealing towards her was a 
 huge figure, clad in ragged sackcloth, and brandish- 
 ing a heavy club. At once it flashed across her mind 
 that this was The Wolf — the human monster whom 
 her father had gone forth to slay or capture. In- 
 stinctively she rose to flee, but the sudden shock of 
 fear had deprived her limbs of all power, and, with 
 a moaning cry, she sank to the earth ! 
 
 With a savage yell. The Wolf sprang forward. 
 She heard the cracking and rustling of the under- 
 growth, as he forced his way through to where she 
 lay. She saw the fiendish eyes glaring within a few 
 }ards oi her, and she closed her own that she might 
 not see the blow which should deprive her of life, 
 
 ^3
 
 194 Dartmoor 
 
 Then — oh, wonder I There was the swift rush of 
 feet past her head ; a voice she had learned to love 
 rang out loud and clear in the still air, "Back to the 
 cave for 3'our life ! " — and she knew that a death- 
 struggle was about to take place. Back ? No ! 
 Weak girl though she was, she might aid her cham- 
 pion in the conflict. At least, she would share his 
 fate ; for, at that tremendous moment, she knew 
 that she loved him — aye, more than life itself. And 
 so it befell that she, Myra Gradwell, was witness of 
 one of the most terrific struggles that ever yet took 
 place between two men. 
 
 Morley's first onrush nearly cost him his life. 
 He had not noticed the club, and nothing but his 
 trained quickness of eye saved him from the mur- 
 derous blow which The Wolf aimed at his head. He 
 replied by countering his adversary heavily in the 
 ribs, and then he closed with him. Now, consider- 
 ing that The Wolf was the taller and heavier man, 
 and was, besides, a noted wrestler, this was clearly 
 dangerous policy. But Morley had in reality no 
 alternative. The finest boxer in the world would 
 stand but a poor chance against a powerful maniac
 
 The Wolf. 195 
 
 armed with a club, which, wresthng, he would be 
 compelled to abandon. 
 
 One unlucky blow from that bludgeon would have 
 sealed Myra's fate. As Morley had foreseen, no 
 sooner did The Wolf feel his clasp than he dropped 
 his weapon and, with a savage snarl, locked him in 
 his long arms. Then, for fully ten minutes, they 
 strained and tugged, but without any perceptible 
 advantage on either side. Whatever their respective 
 strengths may have been before, Morley realised 
 that, with the added fury of madness, The Wolf 
 was now at least able to hold his own. For, that 
 he was mad, raving mad, was beyond doubt. He 
 jibbered and howled incessantly, whilst, every now 
 and then, he made savage bites at Morley's shoulder, 
 tearing at the stout tweed as a terrier worries a rag. 
 Twice Morley had to exert his utmost strength to 
 avert a fall, and his injured ankle was again giving 
 way under the strain. If that failed him, all was 
 lost. 
 
 Myra looked on with clasped hands and horror- 
 stricken eyes. To her it seemed that this huge 
 savage must, in the end, gain the mastery. Yet, 
 
 13 *
 
 ig6 Dartmoor 
 
 how gallantly her hero held his own ! Could she do 
 nothing ? Must she stand idly by and see him 
 borne down to his doom inch by inch ? 
 
 At that moment Morley caught sight of her 
 deadly-pale face. 
 
 "For God's sake!" he cried. "Go back! I 
 dare not let go of him whilst you are there ! " 
 
 Myra understood, more by the tone than the 
 words, that her presence interfered with some plan 
 of her lover's. 
 
 " I am going ! " she said ; and oh ! how weakly 
 and faintly the words were uttered ! She strove to 
 walk some yards in the direction of the cave, but a 
 deadly fascination riveted her eyes upon the sway- 
 ing, struggling forms, and she again paused. 
 
 Believing her gone, Morley suddenly slipped from 
 The Wolf's clasp and, before the latter had divined 
 his change of tactics, let him have right and left 
 squarely in the face. With a yell of rage, the giant 
 again essayed to close, but was met by a terrific 
 upper-cut which nearly fractured his jaw. As a 
 boxer, he was as a mere child in Morley's hands, 
 the blows raining in upon face and body until,
 
 The Wolf. 197 
 
 streaming with blood, he turned as though to 
 escape. He saw Myra, who was staring with 
 amazement at the changed aspect of the conflict, 
 and rushed straight at her. Morley's ankle had 
 almost completely given way, and his heart fairly 
 stood still as he realised the maniac's intention. 
 He was barely two seconds behind The Wolf, but, 
 in those two seconds, the latter had seized his 
 victim and was snarling over her prostrate form. 
 
 Then came his doom. With grip of proven 
 steel, Morley's left hand closed upon his throat, 
 whilst his right hand came with such sledge-hammer 
 force upon his face that the very bones could be 
 heard to shatter. A gurgling cry came from the 
 blood-and-foam covered mouth, but that deadly left 
 hand never relaxed. The hideous face was battered 
 out of all human shape, but still that pitiless right 
 hand descended. One of the brute's arm, nerveless 
 enough now, lay across Myra's breast. Morley 
 jerked it fiercely aside and then, with both hands, 
 strangled his foe to the death, holding him thus 
 until his black soul (if such monsters have souls) 
 had surely departed. Then he dragged the body
 
 198 Dartmoor. 
 
 to a distance, threw it amongst the bracken, and 
 returned to Mvra. 
 
 He knelt down beside her and raised her head 
 upon his arm, panting, rather than speaking, re- 
 assuring words to her. But the reaction was too 
 much for the poor child. She gave him one long 
 look — a look the full meaning of which he but half- 
 divined at that moment — uttered a little cry, and 
 fell back in a dead faint. What was to be done ? 
 After a moment's hesitation, he decided to return 
 to the cave and secure such restoratives as he could 
 lay hands upon ; and he was just starting upon this 
 mission, when the sound of voices broke upon his 
 ear. Glancing around, he saw a large body of 
 warders and police and, with them, Mr. Gradwell. 
 Before he could drop down again, he was him- 
 self seen and challenged. He had but a moment to 
 decide what he should do ; but that moment sufficed. 
 Recent events had modified his predetermined re- 
 solve to fight for his liberty to the last ; his common- 
 sense told him that his future now showed a strong 
 ray of hope. Therefore he stood quite still. An 
 inspector advanced.
 
 The Wolf. 199 
 
 " I say, my man," he said, " have you seen any- 
 thing of a why, what's this ? I say, Giles, 
 
 isn't this one of the two men ? " And as he spoke 
 he covered Morley with his revolver. 
 
 " By thunder, so it is ! " exclaimed Giles, a 
 warder. " Number 754, by all that 's wonderful ! 
 The other cannot be very far off, I expect." 
 
 "No," said Morley, calmly, "he's quite close. 
 You '11 find him amongst the bracken yonder. I 
 surrender," he added to the Inspector. 
 
 At a signal from the latter, one of his men ad- 
 vanced and handcuffed the prisoner, who succeeded 
 in catching Mr. Gradwell's eye and signalled him 
 not to recognise him. Then for the latter's guid- 
 ance, as he knelt beside his daughter, he addressed 
 the inspector again : 
 
 " I got these clothes out of a cottage not very 
 far from here. When I reached the spot where we 
 are now standing I heard a scream and saw a young 
 woman pursued by Number 916, or The Wolf as we 
 used to call him. He appeared to be raving mad. 
 Anyhow, to save the girl, I had to fight him, and 
 the end of it was that I strangled him."
 
 200 Davtuiooy. 
 
 *' Then, Number 754," replied the Inspector, 
 "you have done a brave and noble thing, which 
 will do you no harm, take my word for it. Did the 
 girl see the fight ? " 
 
 "Yes, from start to finish. The Wolf got away 
 from me after a bit, and seized hold of her. He 
 was within a foot of her when I killed him. Then 
 she fainted, just before you saw me." 
 
 "She's coming round all right now!" cried Mr. 
 Gradwell, who had carefully listened to Morley's 
 explanation. " I '11 get her back to the cottage pre- 
 sently. As for you, my man, prisoner or no prisoner, 
 I say that you have earned the undying gratitude 
 not alone of the father of the girl, whose life you 
 risked your own to save, but of every father in 
 England. What ! you don't mean to say you 're 
 going to keep him in irons. Inspector ? " 
 
 The Inspector hesitated. 
 
 " I gave the order before I had heard what 
 occurred," he answered. " But I think that, under 
 the circumstances, I may take his word not to 
 escape." 
 
 " That you may safely do," said Morley, quietly,
 
 The Wolf. 201 
 
 " the more so as my ankle has given way and I 
 could not run ten yards to save my life." 
 
 "You'll find this will prove a good day's work," 
 rejoined the Inspector, motioning to a subordinate 
 to remove the handcuffs. " I am not Home Secre- 
 tary, but I have known free pardons to be granted 
 for less than this." 
 
 Mr. Gradwell conversed in a low tone with Myra, 
 who presently came forward and, though still very 
 pale and weak, thanked her deliverer before them 
 all, but, of course, as an utter stranger. Her eyes, 
 however, told Morley their own tale. 
 
 " I '11 get a monster petition in your favour signed 
 by the whole country-side," whispered Gradwell. 
 "^Smart idea of yours, not to know me. I '11 see you 
 again up at the prison." 
 
 And then he and Myra walked homewards, won- 
 dering what poor old Janet down in the cave would 
 think of her temporary abandonment. 
 
 The Inspector and his men surveyed the corpse 
 of The Wolf with mingled disgust and amazement. 
 
 " I could never have believed," he remarked, 
 gravely, " that any one man could so mutilate a
 
 202 Dartmoor. 
 
 giant like that with no other weapons than his 
 hands. You must be a Hercules yourself." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Warder Giles, " Number 754 is 
 well-known. I always said he was a better man 
 than the big Cornishman, though hang me if I 
 thought he could make such pulp of him as that ! " 
 
 There being a dozen men present, it was decided 
 to make shift to carry The Wolf's remains as far as 
 Mr. Gradwell's cottage, where some sort of a 
 stretcher could be improvised. This was accord- 
 ingly done ; and ultimately the party reached the 
 prison, Morley having also to be carried the greater 
 part of the way. 
 
 Thus it came to pass that Number 754, despite 
 his desperate vow, found himself once more under 
 lock and key, but this time comfortably lodged in 
 the infirmary, where he received a succession of 
 visits, from the Governor and the Chaplain down to 
 the senior Warder who had been in charge of the 
 gang from which he escaped. 
 
 An inquest was held upon The Wolf, and a ver- 
 dict of " Justifiable homicide," coupled with a strong 
 rider in favour of prisoner Number 754, was unhesi-
 
 The Wolf. 203 
 
 tatingl}- returned, upon Myra's evidence. The press, 
 both in London and the provinces, took the case up 
 very warmly, and Morley Griffin had every reason 
 to beheve that a free pardon would shortly be 
 granted to him.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 HUSBAND AND WIFE. 
 
 UPON the evening of the day of Morley Griffin's 
 escape, she, whom he had known as Ethel 
 Conyers, was alone in a private sitting-room in a 
 fashionable West-End hotel, staring absently into 
 the fire-place as though seeking to trace the future 
 in the fantastic shapes assumed by the glowing 
 embers. The presence of dessert and of but a 
 single convert upon the centre-table made it plain 
 that she had dined alone ; indeed, of late, her 
 husband had frequently thus absented himself upon 
 plea of important engagements with business men 
 of his acquaintance. Eight short months' possession 
 of his idol had sufficed to change the ardent lover 
 into the callous husband, and the young wife had 
 realised the fact. 
 
 " Hugh is tired of me already," she said to her- 
 self, bitterly, " and scarcely seeks to disguise it ! And 
 I ? Do I care for him more than when, without a 
 spark of affection for him in my heart, I was talked 
 
 2U4
 
 Hitd)and and Wijc. 205 
 
 over into marrying him for the sake of the position 
 his wealth would confer? No ! A thousand times, 
 no! . . . He told me he would make me love him, 
 and he keeps his word by treating me with neglect. 
 Love him ? Would to Heaven I had never seen him, 
 or that I might leave him, this very night, never to 
 see him again ! " 
 
 Presently Hugh Darrell entered the room, a cigar 
 in his mouth (although he knew his wife disliked 
 the pungent odour), and an unopened evening paper 
 in his hand — something to fall back upon, apparently, 
 should conversation languish, 
 
 " I got away early on purpose, Ethel," he said, 
 in a politely apologetic tone, " thinking you might find 
 it lonely here all by yourself. I hope they dined you 
 all right ? Why, you look as miserable as a stray 
 dog upon a wet day ! What is the matter ? " 
 
 " I have been thinking," she replied, her e)'es 
 still fixed upon the embers. " That is all." 
 
 Hugh Darrell surveyed his young wife with his 
 old cynical smile. 
 
 " Thinking ? " he echoed. " That 's very foolish. 
 Women, and especially young women, should never
 
 2o6 Dartmoor 
 
 think; it's out of their Hne altogether, and brings 
 on wrinkles. And, pray, what particularly disagree- 
 able form did your thoughts take ? " 
 
 " I have been thinking," she answered, coldly, 
 " that our marriage was a mistake, a terrible mistake, 
 for us both." 
 
 " Upon my word ! " exclaimed Darrell, with a 
 harsh laugh. " That is a pleasant remark for a wife 
 of eight months' standing to make to her husband ! " 
 
 "Pleasant or not," was the quick retort, "you 
 have already succeeded in teaching me that it is 
 true." 
 
 " Heavens above ! " rejoined Darrell, mockingly, 
 apostrophising the ceiling. "Was there ever yet 
 such an unreasonable young woman ? Because I 
 am compelled now and then to dine at houses to 
 which I do not care to take my wife, she discovers 
 that she is a most ill-used creature, and that our 
 marriage was a mistake ! Well, perhaps it was ; 
 possibly you have merely anticipated me in the 
 discovery. But, as the contract cannot very well 
 be unmade just now, I fear we must both put up 
 with the consequences for some time longer."
 
 Husband and Wife. 207 
 
 The girl-wife rose to her feet, her blue eyes 
 flashing, and looking extremely beautiful in her 
 scorn. In an instant Darrell had encircled her waist 
 and had forced her down upon his knee. 
 
 " Do you know, cava niia,'" he said, his eyes 
 lighting up with revived passion, " this stormy mood 
 suits you to perfection ? You are doubly charming 
 when you show fight ! " And holding her in his 
 arms, despite her struggles, he rained hot kisses 
 upon her lips. " You see I am not tired of you yet, 
 my pretty bird," he added, "however you may feel 
 towards me. There ! get to bed early to-night, or 
 you'll be as white as a sheet to-morrow." 
 
 Ethel's slender figure shook with a storm of 
 suppressed sobs as she quitted the room. She had 
 come to dread her husband's embraces far more than 
 his sneers ; and he spared her neither. Yet what 
 could she do ? Was she not his plaything, his wife ? 
 And — most maddening reflection of all ! — she had 
 brought all this misery upon herself by selling herself 
 to a man she had never cared for, at her mother's 
 bidding ! Truly her punishment had been swift and 
 bitter.
 
 2o8 Dartmoor 
 
 A self-satisfied look was upon Darrell's face as he 
 found himself some whisky, lit a fresh cigar, and 
 settled down in an easy-chair to glance through his 
 newspaper. He had never felt on better terms with 
 himself. True he had latterly received no report 
 from Jason, but that individual's previous reports 
 had made it clear he was persecuting and goading 
 Morley Griffin to the utmost. How neatly, too, he 
 had blocked Dyver's plans for an escape ! Yes, the 
 scoundrel was certainly earning his money, and 
 would, no doubt, contrive to earn the larger sum 
 ere long ! He even found subject for rejoicing in 
 his wife's outburst. After all, although her beauty 
 had not quite palled upon him yet, he was sure 
 sooner or later to grow tired of such an empty- 
 headed doll, and she had made it clear that she 
 would gladly consent to a separation on any terms. 
 As for Lady Conyers, it would serve the mercenary 
 old woman right to have her daughter thrown back 
 on her hands again. But one matter had not turned 
 out to his satisfaction. Griffin's lawyers had, so 
 far, successfully resisted all efforts made by nurse 
 Martha to enforce the penalty-clause of the Colonel's
 
 Ihishand and Wife. 209 
 
 Will. But that, too, would doubtless come right in 
 course of time. These and similar reflections passed 
 through Darrell's brain as he scanned the columns 
 of the newspaper. Suddenly his eye fell upon a 
 paragraph which fairly made his heart stand still : — 
 
 " Desperate Escape of Convicts. — An escape 
 of a singularly daring nature is reported to-day from 
 Dartmoor. It seems that, profiting by a sudden and 
 heavy mist, two prisoners employed in the quarry- 
 gang made a dash for freedom, and have so far 
 eluded recapture, although heavily fettered together 
 by leg-irons. Parties of warders and police are 
 scouring the district. The names of the escapees, 
 who are said to be men of exceptional stature and 
 strength, are Griffin and Bloggs. The former was 
 serving a sentence of seven years for forgery, whilst 
 the latter is a ' lifer ' reprieved from the gallows." 
 
 " Morley Griffin escaped ! " gasped Darrell, 
 hurriedly gulping down some whisky, though his 
 trembling hand could scarce raise the glass to his 
 lips. "The one thing that I dreaded come to pass! 
 . . . Griffin a free man, and the first use he will 
 make of his liberty will be to hunt me out and kill 
 
 H
 
 210 Dartmoor. 
 
 me ! I know it as well as though I already felt his 
 deadly grip upon my throat. My only hope is to 
 get away — to put the greatest possible distance of 
 sea and land between us. And that means the 
 abandonment of all my plans for the future. How 
 could I exist as a fugitive in a strange land ? . . . 
 Yet stay ! Griffin is at large, it is true, but the odds 
 are great he'll be recaptured alive or dead. The 
 report says that parties of warders and police are 
 scouring the district : they cannot fail to overtake 
 him, and then, if he shows fight (as he certainly will), 
 they'll shoot him. Of course! What a fool I am 
 to worry and frighten myself simply because Griffin 
 has given his gaolers the slip for a few hours ! " 
 
 Yet, despite these reassuring reflections, Hugh 
 Darrell could find no peace, and sought fictitious 
 confidence by repeated applications to the whisky- 
 bottle. Usually an abstemious man, the fumes of 
 the spirit, which he now so recklessly swallowed, 
 presently mounted to his brain, and, for probably the 
 first time in his life, he got drunk. His wife was 
 sleeping when he at last staggered into her room, still 
 carrying the newspaper in his left hand.
 
 Husband and Wife. 211 
 
 "Ethel!" he hiccoughed, shaking her roughly 
 by the shoulder, " I have found something in the 
 paper that will interest you. Your old lover, 
 Morley Griffin, has made his escape. Are you not 
 glad?" 
 
 Ethel stared in bewildered fashion at her hus- 
 band. Changeable as were his moods, she had 
 never seen him like this before. His eyes were 
 swollen, his utterance thick and jerky, his breath 
 tainted. She had never seen a drunken man before, 
 but she knew that he was drunk now. 
 
 " Leave me ! " she said, indignantly. *' How 
 dare you insult me by your presence in your present 
 state ? Leave me, I say ! " 
 
 " Oh, I 'm all right, you pretty little spitfire ! " 
 hiccoughed Darrell, reeling as he spoke. " Took a 
 little too much whisky celebrating your old sweet- 
 heart's escape . . . that's all. . . . Leave you? 
 Not L . . . Never saw you look more charming, 
 and your kisses will freshen me up. . . . Confound 
 that mat!" 
 
 In staggering backwards, Darrell tripped over a 
 
 thick, woolly mat, was powerless to recover his 
 
 14 ■-
 
 212 Dartmoor. 
 
 balance, and fell heavily to the floor, where he lay 
 stunned and motionless. 
 
 When, late the following morning, he awoke 
 from the drunken slumber that ensued and rose to 
 his feet, he was alone in the room, and, from certain 
 signs around, at once suspected that his wife had 
 quitted the hotel. A short note, addressed to him 
 and lying upon the dressing-table, confirmed his 
 suspicions : — 
 
 "After yotir outrageous conduct last night,'' it ran, "/ 
 have resolved to leave you. I am going to rejoin Mamma 
 at Naples, and have taken my maid with me. We left 
 you lying upon the floor, sleeping off the effects of your 
 debauch, and told your man not to enter the room until 
 you should ring. — E.D.'' 
 
 "So you've cleared out, my lady, have you ?" he 
 muttered. " Let me see. . . . eleven o'clock. . . . 
 You're half-way to Paris by this time, for I suppose 
 you caught the early mail. Shall I start in pursuit ? 
 . . . Why should I ? Better that I should have 
 my hands clear at the present juncture — at all events 
 until I learn that Griffin has been retaken or shot." 
 And, having thus decided, he rang for his valet.
 
 Husband and Wife. 213 
 
 " At what time did Mrs. Darrell leave the hotel, 
 Simpson ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Shortly after seven, sir," was the reply. 
 
 " Very good," said his master. " You will pack 
 up my things and hold yourself in readiness for our 
 departure to-day or to-morrow. Tell the people 
 here to make out my account. Get me a brandy- 
 and-soda and The Times." 
 
 In the great journal Darrell found a more detailed 
 account of the escape ; but, so far, it appeared that 
 the two convicts had eluded pursuit. That looked 
 as though they had succeeded in getting away from 
 the immediate neighbourhood of Dartmoor at all 
 events, and the dread that Morley Griffin might, 
 after all, baffle the police and make his way up to 
 London returned with full force. Very probably 
 Dyver had been forewarned of the attempt about to 
 be made and had found means to assist Griffin in 
 his flight. In his feverish anxiety, Darrell sought 
 out Jacob Aaronson and found the Jew in a state of 
 nervous dread fully equal to his own. 
 
 " If Griffin should succeed in reaching London," 
 said Darrell, in grave, emphatic tones, " and can
 
 214 Dartmoor. 
 
 lay hands upon either of us, there '11 be murder 
 done." 
 
 " Hush ! " urged Aaronson, turning a sickly 
 white, " don't talk of such things ! Why should he 
 seek to harm me ? I only discounted a bill that you 
 swore at the trial was a forgery, and gave my good 
 money for his worthless paper. He can have 
 nothing against me.'" 
 
 " It won't hold water, my prince of usurers ! " 
 retorted Darrell, with a dry, forced laugh. " Griffin 
 saw through the whole plot when he found himself 
 caught in the trap, and could gauge your share in 
 the business to a nicety. Take my word for it, he 
 would as soon fix those big fingers of his in your 
 throat as in mine. We're in the same boat, Master 
 Jacob, and the best thing we can do is to pull 
 together." 
 
 " What can we do ? " asked the Jew, eagerly. 
 
 " I know what I shall do," was the reply, "and, 
 if you're wise, you '11 do the same. Keep out of the 
 way for a few days, to see if the police will succeed 
 in retaking him. If they don't, then there's nothing 
 for it but to make a bolt for it, abroad, and obliterate
 
 Husband and Wife. 215 
 
 our traces as best we may. And, by the way, you'll 
 have to provide the greater portion of the funds. 
 I've been spending rather too freely for some time 
 past and mine are at a low ebb." 
 
 Aaronson groaned. 
 
 " How could I leave my business ? " he wailed. 
 " Every day that I am away would mean a loss to 
 me of money and of clients, who would fall into 
 other hands. I can't go ! " 
 
 " Money and clients are good enough in their 
 way," rejoined Darrell, grimly, " but life is better, 
 and I repeat that if ever Griffin sets eyes upon you 
 he'll kill you." 
 
 To work up the Jew's]^fears to concert pitch was 
 not a difficult matter, and, in the end, he agreed 
 that, should Griffin evade capture much longer, 
 flight offered the surest means of escaping his 
 vengeance. But upon the question of providing the 
 necessary funds, he proved less amenable to argu- 
 ment. He finally agreed, should flight become 
 necessary, to advance Darrell £200 upon his note-of- 
 hand, but beyond that he stubbornly refused to go. 
 
 " Mrs. Nesbilt has plenty of money," he added.
 
 2i6 Dartmoor. 
 
 " You are her adopted son. She stands to make 
 3^16,000 out of Morley Griffin. Ask her to help you." 
 
 This Darrell had already decided in his owfi 
 mind to do. His attack upon the Jew's purse- 
 strings, through his fears, was merely a supplemen- 
 tary scheme. 
 
 "Of course I shall," he assented, "and I've no 
 doubt she will do what she can, though I doubt if 
 she has much ready-money at command." 
 
 " I tell you she has," persisted Aaronson, " and I 
 know her affairs pretty well. The very nature of 
 her business — lending upon jewellery and such like 
 — compels her to keep large sums at hand, and she 
 has title-deeds in her safe that I would lend £5,000 
 upon, myself." 
 
 " The deuce she has ! " thought Darrell. " Then 
 she has been playing a dark game with me : I 
 fancied I had bled her drier than that amounts to. 
 Well," he added aloud, " I must try what I can do 
 with her. You say you'll lend £5,000 upon her 
 title-deeds ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Aaronson, with a cunning leer, " if 
 she'll let you have them."
 
 Husband and Wife. 217 
 
 " We shall see," rejoined Darrell curtly. 
 
 And he thereupon returned to his hotel to plan 
 out his immediate movements. He presently made 
 up his mind and, the evening papers containing no 
 further news of the escapees, paid his bill and 
 ordered his servant to be at Charing Cross station, 
 with the luggage, at 10 p.m., saying no word as to 
 their destination. He had decided to await the 
 issue of events at Dover, and there, in a quiet hotel 
 a little way out of the town, he accordingly took up 
 his quarters under his former pseudonym of Barrett. 
 
 " This is a rum start," soliloquised the valet. 
 "I wonder what little game the master's up to now? 
 I'd wager a quarter's wages there's another petti- 
 coat at the bottom of it ! "
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE MEASURE OF INIQUITY IS FILLED. 
 
 AS day succeeded day and still no news was pub- 
 lished of the recapture of the escaped convicts, 
 Hugh Darrell's anxiety grew to be well-nigh intoler- 
 able, and, in sheer desperation, he fell back upon 
 the whisky-bottle to sustain his sinking courage. 
 Day and night the uppermost thought in his mind 
 was that Morley Griffin was assuredly upon his 
 track, and might at any moment run him to earth. 
 He corresponded with Aaronson, who was lying 
 perdu in a northern London suburb, but the two 
 partners in iniquity had little to write to each other 
 of a consolatory nature. At length came the news 
 of Morley Griffin's surrender to the search-party, 
 after his fearful encounter with The Wolf. The 
 entire Press rang with the exploit, and the opinion 
 seemed to be unanimous that it merited substantial 
 recognition at the hands of the Home Secretary; 
 indeed, a Free Pardon was spoken of as a foregone 
 conclusion. 
 
 218
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 2ig 
 
 Then, indeed, Darrell realised that, to use his 
 own phrase, "the game was up." If Griffin was a 
 foe to be dreaded whilst still a hunted outlaw, how 
 much more formidable would he not be as a free 
 man ? He was not the sort of antagonist to post- 
 pone the settlement of his terrible score, and 
 Darrell knew that the day of reckoning must now be 
 close at hand. Some little delay there might be ere 
 the Free Pardon would be actually granted ; but, 
 with the strong influence that would be brought to 
 bear by Dyver's numerous friends, this delay would 
 probably be of the briefest. 
 
 Hesitation formed no part of Darrell's character. 
 He straightwa}'- resolved to return to London, raise 
 what money he could by any and all means in his 
 power, and sail from some foreign port for the 
 United States. The presence of Simpson would 
 henceforth be an incumbrance. He commenced, 
 therefore, by paying him off and discharging him, 
 with an excellent character, upon a plea of an 
 urgent summons to Italy. He then took train to 
 London, leaving the bulk of his luggage at Dover. 
 
 His first visit was to the hotel, at which he and
 
 220 Dartmoor. 
 
 his wife had stayed, for such letters as might have 
 arrived during his absence. 
 
 " A young foreigner was here inquiring for you 
 yesterday, sir," the hall-porter told him. " Couldn't 
 speak a word of English, but had your name written 
 on a card. So I sent for one of the waiters, who 
 is an Italian. He told me the foreigner was 
 an Italian also — a Neapolitan, by his accent, — 
 but, bej'ond the fact that he wished to see you 
 upon very important business, he was very un- 
 communicative." 
 
 " A Neapolitan to see me ? " said Darrell, 
 musingly. " I wonder what about ? Oh, I think 
 I know ! Mrs. Darrell has joined her mother, Lady 
 Conyers, at Naples, and this young man was prob- 
 ably sent by them. Ask him to call at this address, 
 should he return, will you ? " 
 
 "Certainly, sir," was the reply. "Thank you, 
 sir." 
 
 "No letter from Ethel or her mother," muttered 
 Darrell, as he hailed a hansom and bade the man 
 drive to an obscure street in Camden Town where 
 Aaronson had sought refuge. " I suppose this mys-
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 221 
 
 terious foreigner is the bearer of some sort of 
 ultimatum from the old woman. Rather a sell for 
 her to have the girl thrown back on her hands ; but, 
 as Ethel bolted of her own accord, she can't blame 
 me. Let them settle it between themselves when 
 I 'm gone." 
 
 He found Aaronson (or Mr. Moss, as he tem- 
 porarily called himself) at home, and at once came 
 to the point. 
 
 "The game's up, Aaronson," he said, in short, 
 decided tones, " and the sooner we 're off the better. 
 I hear Griffin will receive a Free Pardon in a day 
 or so." 
 
 This was pure invention, but it produced the 
 desired effect upon the frightened Jew. 
 
 " Holy Moses ! "' he gasped. " So soon as that ? 
 The newspapers merely speak of it as a probability, 
 in course of time " 
 
 "It's a certainty, I tell you," interrupted Darrell, 
 ** and the man has influential friends, who can do 
 what they please with the Home Office. Morley 
 Griffin will be in London, a free man, within forty- 
 eight hours."
 
 222 Dartmoor. 
 
 Aaronson shuffled about the room in an agony of 
 agitation. 
 
 "I can't transfer my business, in so short a time, 
 without heavy loss," he groaned. " I shall be a 
 ruined man if I go away," 
 
 "You know best about that," retorted Darrell, 
 with a sneer. " But you '11 most certainly be a dead 
 man if you stay." 
 
 " I might get a friend to see Mr. Griffin," urged 
 the Jew. " He owes me money. I will freely 
 forgive the debt and pay him more besides. He 
 will need money, and surely he can be squared ! " 
 
 " Squared ! " echoed Darrell, scornfully. "With 
 what do you fancy you can square a man who has 
 suffered two years' penal servitude through your 
 treachery ? You don't know Morley Griffin, Aaron- 
 son. I tell you that all the gold in the Bank of 
 England would not square him, as you call it. Our 
 only hope of safety is to get clear away before he is 
 liberated, and our time is very short. Of course 
 you are amply provided with funds. But, as I told 
 you, I am not, and will thank you to cash this note- 
 of-hand for ;^200, as you promised. That, with
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 223 
 
 what I may succeed in getting from Martha Nesbitt, 
 may suffice to see me through." 
 
 With manifest reluctance, Aaronson gave Darrell 
 a cheque for £175 in exchange for the note, deduct- 
 ing £2$ for three months' interest. 
 
 " And now," said Darrell, " let us understand 
 each other's movements. I shall see Martha to- 
 night, and shall call here to-morrow morning to let 
 you know the result." 
 
 "Try and get her to lend you those title-deeds," 
 urged the Jew, eagerly. 
 
 ** I '11 do my best," was the reply. " Make your 
 own arrangements so as to be ready to leave to- 
 morrow evening for Dover with me." 
 
 To this Aaronson, with much lamenting, agreed ; 
 and Darrell departed to cash his cheque and to 
 telegraph to nurse Martha that he would visit her at 
 nine o'clock. Having executed these operations, he 
 bent his steps towards his former bachelor quarters, 
 and left a note pencilled in Italian for the Neapolitan 
 
 messenger. 
 
 "I shall be here to-morrow,'" it ran, "at twelve or 
 one o'clock. — H.D."
 
 224 Dartmoor. 
 
 Darrell arrived at Laburnum Cottage rather 
 before than behind time, and nurse Martha received 
 him as usual with open arms. Scoundrel though he 
 was and utterly void of principle though she knew 
 him to be, he was all-in-all to the lonely old woman, 
 who, moreover, as we know, was herself not troubled 
 with scruples where money was to be gained or a 
 vengeful scheme furthered. She had not seen Hugh 
 for nearly a month, and was startled by his altered, 
 haggard appearance. She saw, too, unmistakable 
 signs that he had been drinking; and, indeed, 
 almost the first words he spoke were a request 
 for whisky. 
 
 " I don't like to see that, Master Hugh," she 
 said, gravely, as he helped himself largely to the 
 spirit. " It 's not like you to dull your keen wits 
 with drink." 
 
 ** Bah ! " ejaculated Darrell, impatiently. " What 's 
 the use of keen wits when the game is lost ? I tell 
 you, Martha, that, but for drink, I couldn't have 
 stood the strain since Griffin made his escape. 
 Can't you imagine what the feeling that )^ou are 
 being hunted down is like ? Do you suppose I can
 
 The Measure of Iniquiiy is Filled. 22; 
 
 forget the look of undying vengeance in his eyes, 
 when he hurled himself upon me in the Court, and 
 the grip of his fingers upon my throat ? " 
 
 " I had thought you made of sterner stuff," 
 answered the old woman, with a shade of contempt 
 in her tone, " than to frighten yourself with shadows. 
 Even supposing Morley Griffin had succeeded in 
 reaching London, how long do you suppose he would 
 have eluded the Scotland Yard detectives — conspic- 
 uous as he is from his unusual stature ? You were 
 not compelled to remain in the Metropolis, and how 
 could a hunted outlaw like him hope to follow your 
 trail ? Besides, could you not carry a revolver and 
 shoot him at sight if, by any chance, you did meet ? 
 Your fears got the better of your common-sense, 
 Master Hugh, and you made matters worse by 
 ruining your nerves with drink." 
 
 No man likes to be told that he has been a 
 coward and a fool; and Hugh Darrell glared at Mrs. 
 Nesbitt viciously. Yet against her cool, dispassionate 
 statement of the case he had nothing to urge. His 
 guilty conscience had, in very sooth, made an arrant 
 coward of him, and he knew it.
 
 226 Dartmoor. 
 
 " It 's easy enough for you to talk like that," he 
 rejoined sullenly. "Your skin was in no danger. I 
 had to think of myself. Anyhow, even you will 
 admit that, as Morley Griffin is about to receive a 
 Free Pardon, England is no place for me to remain 
 m. 
 
 " If you have frightened yourself into believing 
 that the first use he will make of his freedom will be 
 to qualify for the gallows by taking your life," said 
 Mrs. Nesbitt, quietly, "then I suppose you had 
 better go abroad for a time. I do not need your 
 help to fight out the penalty-clause in the Will ; and 
 I 'm not afraid of this slayer of cannibals, I assure 
 you." 
 
 " Fight the Will ? " echoed Darrell. " You must 
 be mad ! The Free Pardon revokes the sentence of 
 Penal Servitude." 
 
 " Nothing of the sort," replied Mrs. Nesbitt. 
 " He is about to be released as an act of grace for 
 saving a girl's life at the risk of his own. The 
 original conviction still stands on record against 
 him, and disqualifies him under his uncle's Will. 
 His lawyers may cause delays, but I must win in the
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 227 
 
 end. That part of the scheme holds good still, at 
 all events. You have already robbed him of the 
 doll-faced girl he wished to marry. He has served 
 two years of his sentence, and, as I understood from 
 you, under circumstances of exceptional severity. 
 But for your absurd personal dread of the man, I 
 cannot see that you have any cause to complain that 
 the game has been lost, as you did just now." 
 
 Despite the irritating, dominant accent of thinly- 
 veiled contempt in the old nurse's voice, Darrell 
 found comfort in her words. 
 
 "Yes," he assented savagely, and again applying 
 himself to the bottle ; " as you say, nothing can ever 
 undo the degradation of the sentence, nor the two 
 years of misery he has undergone. And I 've had 
 an eight months' lease of his pretty popinjay. . . . 
 Ha ! ha ! . . . Nothing can ever undo that fact 
 either. . . . Ha ! ha ! ... It was pleasant 
 enough whilst it lasted. ..." 
 
 " What do you mean, Master Hugh ? " asked 
 Mrs. Nesbitt. " Have you and your wife quarrelled 
 already ? " 
 
 "Just so," assented Darrell, nodding his head
 
 228 Dartmoor. 
 
 with tipsy emphasis. " She bolted more than a 
 week ago, and has returned to her mother at 
 Naples." 
 
 "That marriage was a blunder," remarked the 
 nurse, " especially as you allowed the girl's money 
 to be tied up and settled upon herself." 
 
 " So it was, Nurse," said Darrell, " from a busi- 
 ness point of view. But I wanted her, — partly to 
 spite Griffin, and partly because she struck my fancy 
 more than any girl I ever knew. But psha ! after 
 all, women are very much alike, and I was getting 
 tired of her. Won't the old lady be wild ? She 
 has sent over a special messenger, to hunt me up, 
 already. . . . Deuced good whisky this, Martha. 
 Where do you get it ? " 
 
 " Don't take any more. Master Hugh," pleaded 
 Mrs. Nesbitt. "Try and eat a bit of supper." 
 
 Darrell consented to the supper, but immediately 
 afterwards reverted to the whisky, and broached 
 the topic uppermost in his mind. 
 
 "You agreed with me. Nurse," he began, "that 
 it will be better for me to go abroad for a time." 
 
 " I said, if you cannot conquer your unreasonable
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 229 
 
 dread of Morley GrifBn," corrected Mrs. Nesbitt, 
 drily. 
 
 "Well, I can't, and that's the fact," pursued 
 Darrell. " So we will start upon the assumption 
 that I am going abroad." 
 
 The old woman pursed her hps, foreseeing what 
 was to follow. 
 
 " The question is," he went on, speaking slowly 
 and thickly, " what am I to live upon when I get 
 there ? I have no money — or next to none." 
 
 ** Then you must have been spending at a ruinous 
 rate ! " exclaimed Mrs. Nesbitt, angrily. " And I '11 
 tell you candidly, Master Hugh, that I cannot afford 
 to help you much further. Even as it is, I am hard 
 pushed for capital to carry on my business ; and the 
 expenses of that Will case have been heavy. When 
 I win that, I shall be in a position to assist you to 
 make a fresh start ; but, until then, I can do but 
 little. I never can make you out. Over and over 
 again I have helped you, and you always appeared to 
 make good use of my help, and to earn or win large 
 sums of money. Yet you as invariably break down 
 at intervals, and come to me for fresh supplies. I
 
 230 Dartmoor. 
 
 have never complained, because you are the only 
 living being I love. But the plain English of the 
 matter is that whereas, but for these continual drains 
 of yours, I should now be a fairly rich woman, I am 
 in reality not worth ^^10,000 — a sum you could easily 
 dissipate in a couple of years." 
 
 " Not I ! " interrupted Darrell, eagerly. " With 
 half that sum in hand, I see my way to making a 
 huge fortune." 
 
 Nurse Martha's thin lips moved in a faint, incre- 
 dulous smile. 
 
 " I will not ask you how. Master Hugh," she said, 
 "because you are scarcely fit to explain just now — 
 even if }'ou knew yourself. Two things, however, 
 are certain. I make better use of money than you 
 do, and I do not waste my profits as fast as I make 
 them. I do not wish to come to poverty in my old 
 age ; and I do wish to leave something behind me 
 for you, after I am gone. Therefore, I shall use 
 what is left in my own business." 
 
 *' But what about me ? " put in Darrell, alarmed, 
 despite his intoxication, at this decision. 
 
 " I will give you ;^ioo for your immediate ex-
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 23 1 
 
 penses," was the reply, firmly and deliberately given, 
 and I will remit you £^0 monthly to whatever ad- 
 dresses you may send me. More than this, dearly 
 as I love you, I cannot and I will not do — for your 
 own sake as well as mine." 
 
 Darrell was too drunk to repress the oath which 
 sprang to his lips upon learning the nature of the 
 provision in store for him. 
 
 " One hundred in hand ! " he exclaimed, savagely, 
 " and ;^30 a month! . . . Why, it's sheer starva- 
 tion . . . downright beggary ! . . ." And his 
 eyes involuntarily wandered towards a corner of the 
 room where, ensconced in the wall, he knew stood 
 the old woman's iron safe. 
 
 Mrs. Nesbitt followed his glances. 
 
 "There's just ;;r6oo in the safe, Master Hugh,' 
 she said, quietly, " and of that sum ;^500 are due 
 to-morrow to a client of mine as a loan upon her 
 diamonds. The other i^'ioo I shall give you. . . . 
 And now, don't you think }ou had better go to bed ? " 
 
 To this proposal Darrell sulkily assented, after 
 swallowing a final dose of whisky. He had just 
 sufficient remnants of sobriety in his addled brain to
 
 232 Dartmoor. 
 
 know that he was drunk, and jet it seemed to him 
 
 that he could think sensibly enough. Nurse Martha, 
 
 he told himself, was a lying old harridan. Whatever 
 
 might be the sum in cash in that safe, had he not 
 
 Aaronson's assurance that it furthermore contained 
 
 title-deeds upon which ^^5,000 could be borrowed ? 
 
 Very good. Those title-deeds he must and would 
 
 have. The question was, How could he open the 
 
 safe? 
 
 Now drunkenness, like other forms of madness, 
 
 not infrequently begets extreme cunning. Even as 
 
 he turned to leave the room, with unsteady steps, 
 
 Darrell noticed a large bunch of keys dependent from 
 
 the lock of a bureau at which Nurse Martha had 
 
 evidently been writing up to the time of his arrival. 
 
 The coveted key was most probably on that bunch. 
 
 Darrell gave a lurch, staggered, and fell to the floor, 
 
 to all appearance in an unconscious state. Mrs. 
 
 Nesbitt, after several futile efforts to raise him, 
 
 rushed off to invoke the co-operation of Judith. In 
 
 an instant Darrell was examining the bunch, with 
 
 trembling lingers. Safe-keys are unlike all others. 
 
 He quickly recognised the one he sought, removed
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 233 
 
 it, placed it in his pocket, and resumed his previous 
 attitude upon the carpet. 
 
 When Mrs. Nesbitt returned, accompanied by 
 Judith, he was still lying as before, and breathing 
 heavily. Between them (not without certain well- 
 veiled assistance on his part) they got him to his 
 feet, and half-supported, half-dragged him to his 
 bedroom, where they had no scruples about un- 
 dressing him and putting him to bed. Why should 
 they ? Were they not both old women ? And was 
 he not Master Hugh, Martha's nursling ? Then 
 they placed a lighted candle in a basin, and so left 
 him to sleep off the fumes of the whisky. 
 
 Left to himself, Darrell's first care was to bind a 
 wet towel round his head, and to dress himself as 
 quietly as he could. He then sat down in front of a 
 small fire that glowed brightly in the grate, resolved 
 to combat the sensation of drowsiness that well-nigh 
 overpowered him. An hour later he cautiously 
 opened his bedroom door, listened, and, finding all 
 still, crept stealthily towards the back parlour, shad- 
 ing the fiame of the candle with his hand. The 
 urgency of the business in hand, aided perhaps by
 
 234 Dartmoor. 
 
 the wet towel, had partially sobered him, and he 
 contrived to reach the immured safe without making 
 any noise. Carefully inserting the key, he turned 
 the lock and drew the door of the safe towards him, 
 when there ensued such a rattling and ringing of 
 bells (from some secret mechanism inside) that the 
 whole neighbourhood stood a fair chance of being 
 aroused ! 
 
 There was not much time allowed him to decide 
 upon his course of action, for, almost ere the ringing 
 had ceased, Martha Nesbitt rushed into the room, 
 clad only in her nightdress, but carrying a candle in 
 one hand and a revolver in the other. She was 
 clearly not the woman to let a burglar have it all his 
 own way. 
 
 " For God's sake, don't shoot, Martha ! " cried 
 Darrell, in the extremity of his terror. 
 
 The old nurse recognised the voice in time, and 
 lowered the weapon. Then, with a sigh that was 
 almost a groan, she sank into a chair and buried her 
 face in her hands, casting the revolver upon the table. 
 
 "Oh! Hugh, Hugh!" she wailed. And the 
 anguish in her voice might have touched a more
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is Filled. 235 
 
 callous heart than even Darrell's. " Has it come to 
 this, that you would rob the woman who reared . . . 
 aye, who suckled you . . . and who has toiled and 
 striven only for you ? " Then, this first outburst of 
 piteous grief was as suddenly followed by a storm of 
 passionate scorn. Walking up to the cowering 
 wretch, she shook him fiercely by the shoulder. 
 "Give me that key, you pitiful thief!" she almost 
 hissed. " Let me assure myself that you have stolen 
 nothing — and then . . . Go, never to darken my 
 door again ! " 
 
 Darrell pointed silently to the key which was 
 still in the lock. He literally could not find his voice 
 at that moment ; but wild, desperate thoughts were 
 surging through his still addled brain. She had cast 
 him off! She, his last, his sole hope! Yes, she 
 had caught him in the commission of a crime so base 
 that he could never hope for forgiveness, and now 
 bade him begone from her sight for ever. Ruin — 
 absolute, inevitable ruin — stared him in the face, and 
 there, within a yard of him, were securities worth 
 thousands of pounds ! 
 
 The old woman was examining the contents of
 
 236 Dartmoor. 
 
 the safe by the Hght of her candle, when suddenly, 
 from behind, two strong hands encircled her throat. 
 There was a brief struggle ; there were a few gurg- 
 ling, gasping, horrible sounds, and Martha Nesbitt 
 fell backwards — strangled to the death! 
 
 As yet Darrell did not know he had killed her. 
 He had obeyed a devilish impulse to overpower her, 
 stifle her cries, and rob her ; and she was lying 
 speechless and still. He would profit by the oppor- 
 tunity to secure his booty and effect his escape ere 
 she regained consciousness. And he commenced to 
 ransack the safe. 
 
 He quickly discovered the ;^6oo, all in bank- 
 notes, which he pocketed. Also a considerable quan- 
 tity of jewellery ; but this he decided not to meddle 
 with. And lastly, a not very extensive assortment 
 of documents, which he proceeded to examine care- 
 fully. Acceptances and notes-of-hand not yet due ; 
 a bundle of letters written by himself at various 
 periods of his life, neatly tied with red silk, and 
 labelled " Hugh's letters ; " some miscellaneous cor- 
 respondence ; a bulky letter addressed to himself. 
 But of the title-deeds, not a trace. The letter he
 
 The Measure of Iniquiiy is Filled. 237 
 
 opened. It contained a short Will entirely in his 
 favour ; and from it he learnt that the missing securi- 
 ties were deposited with the testatrix's lawyers ! 
 
 ''What cursed bad luck!" muttered Darrell. 
 " But for Aaronson's assurance that those deeds were 
 in the safe, I 'd never have got myself into this infer- 
 nal scrape ! " 
 
 Then he glanced at the letter, and read as 
 follows : — 
 
 " My Darling Hugh, — When these lines reach 
 you I shall be no more, and all necessity for further 
 concealment will be over. Carefully as I have kept 
 the oath I swore years ago to your father, Colonel 
 Hewitt Griffin, not to divulge the name of your 
 mother whilst I lived, I have sometimes wondered 
 that you never divined that — you are my son ! Yes, 
 my darling, my son as well as his. My own, my very 
 own " 
 
 " Great God in Heaven ! " gasped the wretched 
 man, for once invoking the Holy Name without 
 blasphemous intent. " Martha Nesbitt . . . my 
 mother ! . . . What have I done ? . . . What 
 have I . . , done ? "
 
 238 Dartmoor. 
 
 Trembling in every fibre, as one stricken by a 
 palsy, Hugh Darrell knelt beside the prostrate figure, 
 and, by the candle-light, forced himself to gaze upon 
 the work which his hands had wrought. Wide- 
 staring, glassy eyes ; discoloured tongue protruding 
 from the mouth ; a body already cold and almost 
 rigid. He had seen death often before. He knew 
 that Martha Nesbitt . . . his own mother . . . was 
 dead, and that he . . . her son . . . had slain her ! 
 
 For a moment he glared vacantly, wildly around, 
 like one from whom Reason has fled. Then his eyes 
 fell upon the revolver, and he literally pounced upon 
 it. Yet, even at that supreme moment, desperate 
 as he was at the unspeakably horrible nature of his 
 crime, the innate cowardice of the man asserted 
 itself. Twice he raised the weapon to his head, 
 twice his forefinger touched the trigger, but instinc- 
 tive love of life each time prevailed. He lacked the 
 courage to shoot himself! 
 
 Yet his brain had, for the time at least, entirely 
 failed him. If he could not bring himself to die by 
 his own hand, he would certainly, had he been in his 
 right senses, have devised some plan for diverting
 
 The Measure of Iniquity is niled. 239 
 
 suspicion from himself. He might have raised an 
 alarm, and have striven to make the murder appear 
 as the work of some imaginary burglar. Given the 
 same Hugh Darrell who had planned Morley Griffin's 
 ruin, and he might once more have hoodwinked 
 Justice. But he was no longer the same Hugh 
 Darrell. His brain, soddened by drink, had now 
 become paralysed by remorseful horror. His one 
 overpowering impulse was to flee from the scene of 
 his crime, and he obeyed it. Sufficient glimmering 
 of reason he had to seek his boots and hat. Then 
 he opened the front door and fled into the night, 
 instinctively following the high-road that led to 
 London.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE VENDETTA. 
 
 ONWARD through the cold, wet October night 
 stumbled Hugh Darrell, he knew not how, he 
 scarce knew whither, until he reached the Borough. 
 Then, like some hunted and exhausted wild beast, 
 he cast around for some asylum wherein he might 
 secure shelter and warmth. The exertion of his rapid 
 flight had almost sobered him, and, now that the 
 first shock of horror was past, he began vaguely to 
 realise the terrible position in which he stood. He 
 could not yet clearly remember all the events of the 
 night, but he knew that he had committed murder 
 and that the penalty of murder is death at the 
 hangman's hands. He must strive to think, to 
 recall exactly what had happened ; and then he 
 would be able to devise some plan whereby he 
 might save himself. But, first of all, he must have 
 rest, and warmth, and something to allay the burning 
 in his throat. * He looked at his watch by the light 
 of a street-lamp. It was ten minutes to three, 
 
 240
 
 The Vendetta. 241 
 
 Hard-by, two huge waggons, laden apparently with 
 market-produce, were drawn up outside some sort of 
 night coffee-house, — on their way doubtless to 
 Covent Garden. After hesitating a little, he entered 
 the place. 
 
 Half-a-dozen men of bucolic appearance were 
 seated at a long, dirty table, drinking coffee and 
 eating. They looked curiously at the wet, mud- 
 bespattered, but withal well-dressed new-comer, set 
 him down probably as some belated "swell," and 
 went on with their meal. Darrell ordered some 
 coffee also (as there appeared to be nothing else to 
 drink), and sat down at a corner remote from the 
 others. The warmth of the room and the coffee 
 revived him ; his thoughts began to piece them- 
 selves together more intelligibly. He had a second 
 cup, and yet a third, maturing his plans the while ; 
 and then he decided what he should do. 
 
 " It is no use my running my neck into a noose, 
 
 because I unluckily choked the old woman a little 
 
 too long," he muttered to himself. "And as for her 
 
 being my mother, I simply don't and won't believe 
 
 it. How was I to guess it, anyhow, even if she 
 
 16
 
 242 Dartmoor. 
 
 were ? . . . A nice mother, indeed ! Fobbing 
 me off with a beggarly £^0 a month ! . . . 
 What a fatal blunder I committed in deserting the 
 cottage after the — the accident! That infernal 
 whisky must have driven me crazy. ... I 
 ought to have made it appear (an easy job enough) 
 as though burglars had broken in, and then have 
 gone quietly to bed again. . . . Too late now. 
 I couldn't get in without arousing deaf old 
 Judith, and, even then, her suspicions would be 
 excited. . . . What if I go back and . . . 
 silence her suspicions and her evidence ? A bold 
 policy is often the best. . . . No ! I daren't 
 risk it. The alarm may already be given, and I 
 should be walking into the hangman's hands. . . . 
 I '11 go to Aaronson and tell him what has happened. 
 He dare not betray me, and will help me to disguise 
 myself and slip out of the country. . . . Yes, 
 that is my best plan." 
 
 Darrell paid for his coffee, pulled his hat well 
 down over his eyes, and walked on towards London 
 Bridge, where he hoped to find a cab. He did so, 
 and drove to Ludgate Hill. There he dismissed
 
 The Vendetta. 243 
 
 the vehicle, and presently took another. He thus 
 changed his drivers half-a-dozen times, and, taking 
 circuitous routes, was finally deposited, within half- 
 a-mile of Aaronson's house, at six o'clock. 
 
 The Camden Town folk are early risers, and 
 a girl was sweeping the door-step when Darrell 
 reached his destination. She recognised him as a 
 previous visitor of Mr, " Moss," and, rewarded with 
 a shilling, allowed Darrell to make his way to that 
 lodger's rooms, where, in response to a vigorous 
 summons, the Jew presently made his appearance 
 clad in an extremely dirty old dressing-gown. 
 Darrell pushed him into the sitting-room, followed 
 him, and locked the door. 
 
 " Sit down," he said. " Listen to me attentively, 
 and, above all, don't raise your voice." And then 
 he narrated what had occurred, harping somewhat 
 upon the accidental nature of the old woman's 
 death, and suppressing the fact of his relationship 
 to her. As he told the story, it did not sound 
 particularly atrocious. But the fact remained that, 
 accidentally or not, he had killed Martha Nesbitt, 
 and the Jew turned livid with fear. 
 
 16 *
 
 244 Dartmoor. 
 
 " It 's murder ! " he croaked, in a hoarse whisper. 
 " Say what you will, Mr. Darrell, it 's murder in the 
 eyes of the Law, and now you come here to make 
 me an accessory after the fact ! Why tell me any- 
 thing about it ? Why force me to choose between 
 being your accomplice or giving you away ? " 
 
 " Because I need your assistance," answered 
 Darrell, coolly, "and because you dare not 'give me 
 away.' Listen, Aaronson. As I told you before, 
 you and I are in the same boat, and, if I go down, I 
 shall drag you down with me. You might, it is 
 true, go straight to a police- station and betray me. 
 That would mean the rope for me to a dead 
 certainty ; the case is absolutely clear against me. 
 But what would it mean for you ? Think a moment. 
 Who edged me on to the commission of the crime 
 by telling me of ^£"5,000 worth of title-deeds in the 
 safe, and who offered to buy them ? You ! " 
 
 " Yes," panted the Jew, " I said I would advance 
 ^5,000 if you could persuade Mrs. Nesbitt to part 
 with them." 
 
 " Persuade ! " echoed Darrell, mockingly. " And 
 what construction, think you, would a jury place
 
 The Vendetta. 245 
 
 upon the word ' persuade ' coming from your mouth ? 
 But, apart from this, how would you get away from 
 the proofs, which I could and would supply, that you 
 financed the conspiracy that sent Morley Griffin, an 
 innocent man, to seven years' Penal Servitude ? 
 That would mean ten or fifteen years, my poor 
 Jacob, even if you escaped hanging for the other 
 affair!" 
 
 Aaronson groaned aloud. It was even as Darrell 
 said. Against the charge of conspiracy, supported 
 by proofs, no defence would be possible, 
 
 " Now," continued Darrell, noting the impression 
 his words had produced, " I '11 act squarely by you, 
 if you do the same by me. Help me to secure a 
 good disguise (you must know dozens of your tribe 
 in that line of business) and to get abroad, and my 
 lips are sealed for ever about the Griffin affair." 
 
 " But suppose you are caught in spite of the 
 disguise ? " urged the Jew, tremulously. 
 
 " That will be no fault of yours, if you do your 
 best," answered Darrell. " I should still feel grate- 
 ful, instead of vindictive, towards you, and could 
 have no earthly purpose to serve in sacrificing you
 
 246 Dartmoor. 
 
 to my mortal enemy, Morley Griffin. Can't you see 
 that for yourself? " 
 
 Well knowing Darrell's bitter hatred of Griffin, 
 Aaronson felt tolerably sure the former meant what 
 he said ; and he finally consented to supply him 
 with all that he needed in the way of disguise. 
 
 "Then you had better lose no time about it," 
 rejoined Darrell. " The police are bound to be on 
 the move within an hour or two, even if that 
 confounded old hag, Judith, has not given the alarm 
 already. I shall try and get across to Jersey to- 
 night from Weymouth, — they'll hardly think of 
 looking for me there. Get me some lotion that will 
 colour my skin a dark brown, some black dye for my 
 hair, and a well-made black beard with moustaches. 
 For clothes I shall need a baggy, old serge suit, a 
 broad-brimmed soft hat, flannel shirt, blue muffler, 
 canvas shoes, and an old reefing-jacket. Stuff a few 
 shirts and other things of the sort into a well-worn 
 carpet-bag. I shall wait here till you come back. 
 By the way, leave me some cigars and whisky. I 
 find I can't knock off the accursed stuff all at once. 
 I '11 pay for everything when you return."
 
 The Vendetta. 247 
 
 Comforting himself with the reflection that the 
 sooner he complied with his unwelcome guest's 
 instructions, the more quickly he would get him off 
 his hands, Aaronson hastily swallowed a meagre 
 breakfast and started citywards. 
 
 He had no difficulty in procuring the various 
 articles enumerated by Darrell, though he was 
 careful to buy them at a number of different shops, 
 and, as it was still early, bethought him of paying a 
 flying-visit to his own office to see how matters were 
 progressing in his absence. He found his clerk, 
 Isaac, vainly endeavouring to understand, or to 
 make himself understood by, a black-eyed young 
 foreigner of Italian appearance. 
 
 " I can't make out what he says at all, sir," 
 explained Isaac. " He came here just now with a 
 note from the landlord at Mr, Darrell's old rooms 
 asking us to give Bearer that gentleman's address, 
 as he is unable to call there this afternoon. I told 
 him I didn't know Mr. Darrell's whereabouts, but 
 he can't understand me, and he won't go away." 
 
 Mr. Aaronson's knowledge of Italian was very 
 limited, but he contrived to make the visitor under-
 
 248 Dartmoor. 
 
 stand that, if he had any letter or message for Mr. 
 Darrell, he would undertake to deliver it. Whereat 
 the Italian waxed very angry, shook his head im- 
 patiently several times, and departed, scowling 
 fiercely at them both. 
 
 "The Hon. Mr. Dyver has called twice to see 
 you," remarked Isaac. " He refused to state the 
 nature of his business, but bade me let you know 
 that it concerned Mr. Morley Griffin and your own 
 best interests." 
 
 The Jew's alarms for his personal safety at once 
 revived. Perhaps Mr. Dyver, aware of his friend's 
 murderous intentions, sought to save him from the 
 consequences of his own vindictiveness by putting 
 his intended victim on his guard. Was it not even 
 possible that the gentleman was empowered to 
 come to terrns ? 
 
 "Isaac," he said, eagerly, "you must seek out 
 Mr. Dyver and tell him that, if he will give his 
 word of honour to come alone, I will meet him here 
 to-morrow at three o'clock. Telegraph me his 
 reply, but on no account give my address to any one, 
 you understand ? "
 
 Tlie Vendetta. 249 
 
 "Very well, sir. I'll find him, never fear," 
 replied the clerk, marvelling somewhat at all this 
 mystery. 
 
 Aaronson then returned to the cab, which had 
 awaited him, and drove to Camden Town, little 
 dreaming- that the young Italian, in a second han- 
 som, was close behind him all the way. When the 
 Jew reached his temporary abode, this second cab 
 passed swiftly by ; but a pair of bright, black eyes 
 had unerringly noted the number of the house, and, 
 at the next corner, the owner of the black eyes 
 discharged his driver. 
 
 "He is tJicvc, this Ugo Darrell ! " he muttered. 
 " What is he, a fine gentleman, hiding in this 
 quarter for ? Can he suspect who the foreigner is 
 who wished to see him ? Anyhow, I can deal with 
 him better here, the infamous traditore ! He had no 
 intention of seeing me to-day, as his note said. 
 Not he ! That was merely to gain time. But I 
 shall watch that house until he leaves it, if I have 
 to stand about here all day." 
 
 Aaronson ordered some lunch for both ; and, 
 when that was disposed of, Darrell set about per-
 
 250 Dartmoor. 
 
 fecting his disguise. Speaking French remarkably 
 well, he had decided to pass himself off as Isidore 
 Dupre, native of Mauritius, an island he had twice 
 visited and knew well. 
 
 He had ample time before him, and spared no 
 pains to make the metamorphosis complete. His 
 heavy tawny moustache first disappeared. Next, 
 with Aaronson's help, he applied the brown lotion 
 freely and carefully to the whole of his body, until 
 he was of a genuine creole colour. His brown hair 
 was next transformed into jet black, as were also his 
 eyebrows. Blue eyes are not infrequently seen 
 amongst Creoles, and he moreover practised a habit 
 of keeping them half-closed, which rendered them 
 inconspicuous, — disdaining coloured glasses as tend- 
 ing to excite observation. He then put on the 
 loose, misfitting, old suit and a still older reefing- 
 jacket, — which, with the addition of muffler, beard, 
 and soft hat, completed the disguise. 
 
 " You '11 do ! " exclaimed Aaronson, confidently, 
 when the last finishing touches had been added. 
 " No one living would recognise you. I couldn't 
 have believed it possible ! "
 
 The Vendetta. 251 
 
 "Yes," assented Darrell, scanning himself criti- 
 cally, " I think Monsieur Isidore Dupr6 will pass 
 muster. I don't feel nervous about the result, 
 anyhow." 
 
 Darkness soon sets in at the end of October, and, 
 as though to favour his chances, a thick mist had 
 fallen. Darrell decided upon catching the 5 p.m. 
 Express from Waterloo, and, preceded by Aaronson 
 to make sure that his exit would not be noticed, 
 seized his carpet-bag and sallied forth, shortly after 
 four o'clock, in search of a cab. 
 
 The Italian had meanwhile remained unflinch- 
 ingly at his post. When Aaronson emerged, shortly 
 afterwards followed by a strangely-attired man 
 carrying a bag, he walked swiftly by them to get a 
 view of their faces as they passed a street-lamp, 
 whilst he himself crouched in the shadow of a 
 doorway. Aaronson he recognised, but who was his 
 companion ? He was utterly unlike the Senor Ugo 
 Darrell, whom he had often seen at Naples, and 
 looked like a Spaniard or a Mexican. Could it be 
 that he had disguised himself? He followed them 
 stealthily, resolving to get a nearer view by the
 
 252 Dartmoor. 
 
 glare of a public-house at the corner. Here, there 
 chanced to be a disengaged cab, which Darrell 
 promptly secured ; and, as he looked up at the 
 driver to give his order, " Waterloo Station," the 
 Italian got a fair view^ of his steely, blue eyes, and 
 instantly recognised him as the man he sought. 
 
 Aaronson at once retraced his steps, the cab 
 drove off, and the Italian started in pursuit on foot. 
 For nearly a mile he ran at his best pace (for the 
 horse was a good one), until his breath came in 
 gasps and his heart thumped against his ribs. Yet 
 if he paused to hail another cab, he knew that the 
 one he was following would at once be lost in the 
 mist ; and so, breathless, well-nigh spent, he raced 
 onwards. Just as he was upon the point of falling, 
 through sheer exhaustion, the cab suddenly stopped : 
 a 'bus-horse had fallen and caused a block in the 
 traffic. Quick to profit by this delay, the Italian 
 placed five shillings in the hands of another cabman 
 and intimated by signs that he was to keep close 
 behind Darrell's. The driver nodded, in token that 
 he understood, and both vehicles were soon under 
 way again.
 
 The Vendetta. 253 
 
 At Waterloo, Darrell jumped out, paid his fare, 
 and hurried to the booking-office; the ItaHan fol- 
 lowing close upon his heels, and listening keenly to 
 catch his destination. 
 
 "Veymouth, tird single," said Darrell, in a well- 
 imitated foreign accent. 
 
 These words his pursuer kept on repeating to 
 himself until his turn arrived. " Vcymouth, tird 
 single," he also demanded, and received his ticket. 
 He now felt easy in his mind. Darrell was certainly 
 going to " Veymouth," and so was he. Very well ; 
 they would travel in the same carriage. He soon 
 discovered Darrell's compartment, and secured a 
 seat himself in an opposite corner. Ere the train 
 started three more passengers got in, and soon began 
 discussing the "Clapham Murder," with accounts of 
 which all the evening papers were full. 
 
 " It 's a clear case against this Darrell," remarked 
 one. "The old servant's evidence is conclusive." 
 
 "Yes," assented another. "And they say a letter 
 was found proving that the murdered woman was 
 his own mother ! " 
 
 " Horrible ! " added the third newcomer. " It is
 
 254 Dartmoor. 
 
 some comfort to think that the poHce have a strong 
 clue to the monster's whereabouts." 
 
 "Tickets, gentlemen, please," said a keen-eyed 
 inspector, entering the compartment, bull's-eye 
 lantern in hand. The scrutiny was satisfactory, 
 and he withdrew. 
 
 " Do you know who that was ? " asked passenger 
 No. I, eagerly. 
 
 " No ! " replied the others. " Who was it ? " 
 
 " Sam Sharpett of Scotland Yard ! I know him 
 quite well by sight ; often see him. I'll wager there's 
 a detective watching every train that will leave 
 London until they collar that fellow Darrell. Cute 
 idea, dressing up as a ticket-inspector, ain't it?" 
 
 " Very," assented his companions, as the train 
 moved out of the station. 
 
 "'Cuter than the man himself," thought Darrell. 
 "Come ! If I can pass muster with a Scotland Yard 
 detective, who is on the look-out for me, I have 
 nothing to fear. . . . That Italian-looking fellow 
 over in the corner is eyeing me rather queerly. 
 Where have I seen some one something like him 
 before ? Can't fix him in my memory. Fancy, I
 
 The Vendetta. 255 
 
 daresay. ... I'm dog-tired. . . . The money 
 is all right, next my skin. ... I '11 sleep out this 
 journey. . . . Let me see, Jersey to-morrow. 
 Then across to St. Malo. From there to Havre, 
 and then a French steamer to New York. That 's 
 the programme." 
 
 One by one the three passengers left the train 
 during the long journey, until at length the Italian 
 was alone with the sleeping man in the compartment. 
 
 "Diavolo!'' muttered the former. "If I were 
 but quite certain he is the man, how quickly would 
 my poor Teresa be avenged ! . . . I am almost 
 sure 'tis he; but I must make quite sure before I 
 strike ! . . . This train stops seldom. I have 
 time for my purpose." 
 
 He drew a length of thick, strong cord from his 
 pocket, made a running-noose, and into this he 
 cautiously passed both his intended victim's hands. 
 Then with a swift jerk he tightened the noose, 
 rapidly wound the remainder of the cord round 
 both wrists, and securely knotted the whole ere 
 Darrell was fairly awake.
 
 256 - Dartmoor. 
 
 "A single cry," hissed his captor in his ear, 
 producing a poniard as he spoke, "and I shall bury 
 this in your heart." 
 
 " What would you do, man ? " gasped Darrell, 
 in such Italian as he could muster. " Rob me ? " 
 
 " No, Senor Ugo Darrell," answered the Italian, 
 keenly watching the other's face, as the name slowly 
 fell from his lips ; "I am not a ladrone:' 
 
 "Then you would betray me to the police!" 
 exclaimed Darrell, fully convinced that his disguise 
 had been penetrated. "But see! I will pay you 
 well to hold your tongue, whoever you are ! " 
 
 "Then you are Ugo Darrell," was the reply, "and 
 I was right. Now shall I tell you who I am ? I am 
 Marco Gaoli, the betrothed lover of Teresa Varoni 
 whom you outraged in the woods, and drove to 
 suicide in the lake, at Mori ! " 
 
 "As God is my judge," protested Darrell, des- 
 perately, " this is the first I have heard of her 
 death ! " 
 
 "Perhaps so," rejoined Marco Gaoli, grimly; 
 "for did you not almost immediatel}' afterwards 
 marry your English love and go away ? What
 
 The Vendetta. 257 
 
 recked you of the fate of the Httle contadina you had 
 ruined ? But it all came out later on — the priest 
 himself cursed you from the altar. And I swore 
 that, so soon as I could scrape together the means, 
 with help from Teresa's father, I would hunt you 
 down and kill you ! I have hunted you down, and 
 now say a prayer, if (heretic traditore that you are!) 
 you know one, for you are about to die ! " 
 
 With the desperation begotten of despair, Hugh 
 Darrell made a frantic effort to burst his bonds. 
 The Italian's left hand choked the shriek that he 
 tried to utter, and then, thrice in swift succession, 
 the murderous steel was plunged into his breast. . . 
 
 When the train reached Weymouth the officials 
 were horrified to discover, in a third-class compart- 
 ment, the body of a poorly-dressed, dark-skinned 
 foreigner, in whose heart the blade of a dagger still 
 remained. To the handle of the same weapon was 
 attached a slip of paper bearing this legend, badly 
 written in pencil : 
 
 "Lrt vendetta del padre i del promesso sposo di Teresa 
 Varoni snl traditore Ugo Darrell. — M.G.'' 
 
 17
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE HON. BOB BESTIRS HIMSELF. 
 
 ^pHE Hon. Robert Dyver and his friend, Captain 
 X Heavyside, chanced to be at Monaco when 
 Morley Griffin effected his escape, and their first 
 intimation of the event came through a paragraph 
 in a belated Enghsh newspaper. 
 
 " Hurrah, Dick ! " cried Dyver, greatly excited by 
 the news. " Poor old Morley has given them the 
 slip at last. Read this paragraph ! " 
 
 Heavyside eagerly scanned the lines. 
 
 " Splendidly done, by Jove ! " he exclaimed. 
 " But I say, Bob, it's long odds against his evading 
 recapture, you know. What a pity we weren't about, 
 to give him a helping hand, as we tried to before." 
 
 " Can't be helped ! " rejoined his friend. " At 
 least we can hasten back and see if we can't help 
 him now. The first thing the poor boy will do will 
 be to communicate with one of us at the club. I'd 
 wager there's a letter or message of some sort 
 awaiting us there now — that is, if he hasn't meanwhile 
 
 258
 
 The Hon. Bob bestirs himself. 259 
 
 been retaken. We're off home, Dick, by the first 
 train. Walters! pack up, like greased lightning!" 
 
 *' I 'm with you, of course. Bob," assented 
 the dragoon. And, within an hour, they were 
 en route, anathematising the slowness of Continental 
 expresses. 
 
 The Hon. Bob's prediction was fulfilled. At the 
 club he found Morley's letter, which Gradwell had 
 posted, awaiting him. 
 
 " I say, Dick, read that ! " exclaimed Dyver. 
 "Why, what's the matter with you?" 
 
 He might well ask ; for the big dragoon, usually 
 
 as quiet in his movements as befitted a man of his 
 
 avoirdupois, was executing an elephantine pas-seul, 
 
 within the sedate precincts of the club smoking-room, 
 
 and waving an Evening Standard triumphantly over 
 his head. 
 
 " Read what ? " he answered, breathlessly. 
 "Just you read ^/»'s. Bob ! And when you've read 
 it, we'll paste it up for all the other fellows to read." 
 
 Amazed at his extraordinary behaviour, a small 
 
 group of members gathered laughingly round the 
 
 speaker. 
 
 17 *
 
 26o Dartmoor 
 
 " Read it out loud, Bob ! " he insisted. And thus 
 adjured, Dyver gave voice to a thrilling description 
 of Morley Griffin's encounter with The Wolf. 
 
 " Bravo ! " . . . " Well done ! " . . . 
 ** Bravo, Morley ! " resounded on all sides ; for 
 Griffin had been a general favourite. 
 
 " That means a Free Pardon, sure enough ! " 
 remarked one member who, upon the strength of 
 having eaten a great many Inner Temple dinners 
 twent)^ years ago, claimed to be something of a legal 
 authority. 
 
 " A Free Pardon, indeed," exclaimed the Plon. 
 Bob, " I should rather think so ! And I '11 give 
 those chaps at the Home Office no rest until it is 
 signed, sealed and delivered. Tell you what it is, 
 Dick, we'll just send old Morley a couple of cheering 
 telegrams, have a dig at the Home Office, and wind 
 up by a little dinner to celebrate the occasion." 
 
 And all of these things were done, even as the 
 Hon. Bob had suggested. 
 
 But Home Secretaries do not move in such 
 matters with any remarkable celerity. All that even 
 Lord Frappingham, goaded thereto by his son and
 
 The Hon. Bob bestirs himself. 261 
 
 heir, could extract from the Minister was an 
 assurance that the case was one apparently justifying 
 the exercise of the Royal prerogative, and that steps 
 would duly be taken in this direction. 
 
 " Confound their Red Tape delays ! '' grumbled 
 Dyver. 
 
 " Amen ! " responded Heavyside. " But I say, 
 you know Morley 's laid up in hospital, and I daresay 
 they 're looking after him all right. By the time 
 he's fit to get about he '11 be a free man." 
 
 "That's true, old fellow," assented Dyver. 
 " What worries me most of all is, that this Pardon 
 won't wipe away the stain of the conviction ; that's 
 the affair I want to see cleared up. Now, I believe 
 old Aaronson was somehow in the swim with 
 Darrell, and, if so, he might be persuaded or 
 frightened into owning up, in view of Griffin's 
 approaching release. I shall hunt him up ! " 
 
 His efforts to find the Jew were unsuccessful ; 
 but, the very next day, Isaac delivered his master's 
 message. 
 
 " Tell him I shall be there to-morrow at three," 
 replied Dyver, "and that I shall be alone."
 
 262 Dartmoor. 
 
 That same evening, the papers contained ex- 
 haustive descriptions of the Clapham Murder, of old 
 Judith's statements, and of Hugh Darrell's patent 
 guilt and flight. Dyver, much as he disliked the 
 man, was fairly overwhelmed with horror and 
 amazement. 
 
 " An unprincipled scoundrel," he muttered, 
 " I 've long believed him to be ; but — a murderer ! 
 and, as it would seem, the murderer of his own 
 
 mother ugh ! The thing is too ghastly to think 
 
 about." 
 
 The terrible drama was rounded off the following 
 morning by the publication of the discovery made at 
 Weymouth railway station. But for the slip of 
 paper attached to the poniard, the identity of the 
 murdered man with the missing Hugh Darrell might 
 never have been suspected, despite the proofs of 
 disguise. But Marco Paoli's memorandum gave a 
 clue which the police had no difficulty in following. 
 Beyond all doubt the assassinated occupant of the 
 third-class compartment and the Clapham murderer 
 were one and the same man. Well might seriously 
 minded editors remark that rarely in the annals of
 
 The Hon. Bob bestirs himself. 263 
 
 evil-doing had so fiendish a crime been punished by 
 such swift retribution. 
 
 Dyver found Aaronson in a state of terrible 
 mental agitation. The news of Darrell's fate 
 appeared to have completely crushed him. The 
 fact was that his extreme dread of Morley Griffin's 
 vengeance had begotten a conviction in his mind 
 that the initials M. G. at the end of the assassin's 
 message meant Morley Griffin, and none other. The 
 references to some girl and her father were, he 
 believed, merely a blind to throw the police off the 
 scent. True, Griffin himself had not struck the blow, 
 since he was still at Dartmoor ; but he had clearly 
 contrived to hire some ruffian to slay Hugh Darrell 
 — an Italian bravo possibly, since the words were 
 written in that language. Nay, perhaps, the very man 
 who had been so anxious to find out Darrell's where- 
 abouts. 
 
 Yes, that would explain all. He, Aaronson, had 
 been followed to Camden Town, whence Darrell, 
 despite his disguise, had been shadowed to his doom. 
 His own turn might be expected to come next, 
 unless indeed Morley Griffin should be induced to
 
 264 Dartmoor. 
 
 spare him through Mr. Dyver's mediation. It will 
 therefore be seen that the Hon. Bob could not 
 possibly have found his man in a more amenable 
 frame of mind; and the Jew's evident distress 
 induced him to take a very high hand. 
 
 "So, Mr. Aaronson," he began, sternly, "I see 
 that your confederate, Hugh Darrell, has cheated 
 the hangman." 
 
 " For God's sake, don't call him my confederate, 
 sir!" whined Aaronson. "He planned the whole 
 affair himself." 
 
 "We have only your word for that assertion," 
 retorted Dyver ; " but, anyhow, you helped him in 
 his rascally plot to ruin Griffin, I 'm quite sure of 
 that. And the best thing you can do is to own up — 
 lest worse befall you." 
 
 "What can I do? What can I do?" moaned 
 the Jew, beating his breast Hebrew-fashion in his 
 despair. " If I tell all I know, I shall be prosecuted 
 and ruined. If I remain silent, I shall be . . . 
 murdered, as he was ! " 
 
 A new light broke in upon Dyver, Aaronson 
 evidently believed that Darrell had been assassinated
 
 The Hon. Bob bestirs himself. 26; 
 
 at Griffin's instigation, and that he himself stood in 
 imminent danger of a similar fate. He smiled con- 
 temptuously at the idea of his friend avenging his 
 wrongs in such cowardly fashion ; but he resolved to 
 take the utmost advantage of the Jew's fears. 
 
 "And what better fate would you deserve," he 
 demanded angrily, " if you allow an innocent man, 
 who has suffered so much already through you and 
 your accomplice, to remain under the stigma of a 
 disgraceful crime ? Boiling in oil would be too good 
 for you ! " 
 
 " Don't be so hard on me, Mr. Dyver," pleaded 
 Aaronson. " What would you have me to do ? " 
 
 " Exonerate Morley Griffin from the foul charge 
 he was convicted upon," was the prompt reply. 
 " Furnish me with proofs that he was the victim of 
 a vile plot." 
 
 " If I do my best to clear him," rejoined Aaronson, 
 " will you undertake that he will not seek to . . . 
 to . . . harm me ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Dyver, after a studied pause, " I will 
 promise you that." 
 
 Aaronson gave a deep sigh of relief. Mr. Dyver,
 
 266 Dartmoor. 
 
 as Griffin's representative, had consented to come to 
 terms, and this was almost more than he had dared 
 to hope for. 
 
 " I have a letter from Mr. Darrell," he went on to 
 say, " notifying me that Mr. Griffin would call upon 
 me for the purpose of discounting an acceptance, 
 post-dated three days, for ;£"86i los. " 
 
 "What is the date of that letter?" interrupted 
 Dyver. 
 
 " Friday, August 5th," said Aaronson, hesi- 
 tatingly. 
 
 " Go on," rejoined Dyver, referring to a memo- 
 randum book. 
 
 " He also requested me," continued the Jew, "to 
 discount this acceptance, notwithstanding the post- 
 dating. I did so, the following day." 
 
 " You consummate old villain ! " exclaimed Dyver, 
 fiercely. " And you suppressed this letter at the 
 trial, well-knowing that it would have neutralised 
 Darrell's contention that he was abroad upon the 
 date borne by the bill ! " 
 
 " I was never asked about it, " stammered 
 Aaronson, feebly.
 
 The Hon. Boh bestirs himself. 267 
 
 ** Asked, you old scoundrel ! " cried Dyver. " Had 
 you not been Darrell's accomplice, you would have 
 produced it in Court. Give me that letter." 
 
 Aaronson hesitated. He hoped to make better 
 terms for himself. Dyver guaranteed his life, but 
 what guarantee had he that he would not be 
 prosecuted ? Dyver divined this. 
 
 " See here," he said, gripping the old man by the 
 wrist, " I have made a memorandum of your state- 
 ment, to which I will swear upon oath. And, what 
 is more, I shall at once give you into custody and 
 have every paper in this office placed under seal, 
 unless you forthwith produce that letter." 
 
 This threat produced the desired effect. With 
 trembling hands Aaronson opened a drawer in his 
 safe and, after some fumbling, found the letter, which 
 he handed to Dyver. 
 
 "Trick number one," remarked the latter, placing 
 it in his pocket-book. " What else have you got?" 
 
 "I have . . . the acceptance itself," said the 
 Jew. 
 
 "What use would that be?" asked Dyver. 
 
 "Well," explained Aaronson, "you see, Darrell
 
 268 Dartmoor. 
 
 swore positively the acceptance was a clumsy forgery 
 of his handwriting, and the experts couldn't agree. 
 Now I, who knew his writing, was so well satis- 
 fied of its genuineness that I discounted the bill. 
 Mr. Griffin's lawyer missed that point altogether — 
 never even asked my opinion. If I swear that I am 
 still convinced it was genuine, and produce other 
 specimens of his handwriting similar to it, would 
 not that help your case?" 
 
 " Yes," assented Dyver, " it would. But there is 
 one thing more. Did not Darrell repay you the 
 money you advanced Griffin ? Come ! No pre- 
 varication ! . . . Yes or no ? " 
 
 " Y . . . es," reluctantly admitted the old man, 
 "he did." 
 
 ** Then sit down and write me a clear statement 
 of all these facts," commanded Dyver, " and we 'II 
 have it sworn to before a Commissioner for Affidavits. 
 Give me also the acceptance and the specimens of 
 similarly disguised handwriting ; and I think you 
 may congratulate yourself upon escaping so lightly. 
 Griffin will not prosecute." 
 
 " But what about the Treasury? " urged Aaronson.
 
 The Hon. Boh bestirs himself. 269 
 
 " It might be deemed a case for the Public Prosecu- 
 tor." 
 
 " So it ought to be," was the rejoinder ; " but I 
 think I have sufficient influence to prevent that if 
 you do your part thoroughly and establish Griffin's 
 innocence. At all events you must run the risk. 
 Refuse, and you shall leave this room in custody." 
 
 With many groans, Aaronson did as he was 
 bidden. In his secret soul he was well pleased, 
 well knowing that, if Griffin declined to prosecute, 
 he was tolerably safe. But outwardly he seemed 
 crushed by the severity of the conditions imposed. 
 It took considerable time and wasted much paper, 
 before Dyver expressed himself as satisfied with the 
 wording of the document ; and then it had to be read 
 over, sworn to, and signed by Aaronson in the 
 presence of a Commissioner. But at length all was 
 settled, and Dyver hastened to transmit his proofs 
 of Morley's innocence to the Home Secretary. 
 
 That same night, Aaronson, after a lengthy con- 
 sultation with an astute lawyer of his tribe, decided 
 upon crossing over to Ostend (in case the Public 
 Prosecutor should, for once in a way, bestir himself)
 
 270 Dartmoor. 
 
 until the affair should have blown over. He was 
 just in time to catch the steamer Trenton, and was 
 not amongst the eight passengers saved after that 
 ill-fated vessel had been run into and sunk by the 
 German s.s. Rosenkranz. He left neither will nor 
 heirs. And it may be assumed that neither the 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer, nor his numerous 
 debtors, much bewailed his loss. 
 
 The documents secured by Dyver would, of them- 
 selves, probably have sufficed to convince any reason- 
 able Home Secretary of Morley Griffin's innocence. 
 But additional and stronger proof was forthcoming. 
 The police naturally took charge of the contents of 
 Laburnum Cottage, pending the discovery of Martha 
 Nesbitt's heir-at-law; and, amongst the dead woman's 
 correspondence, were found several letters from 
 Hugh Darrell, referring explicity to his schemes to 
 ruin Griffin and to their triumphant issue. 
 
 In the face of such overwhelming evidence, even 
 the Home Office felt itself called upon to postpone 
 perusal of the newspaper and bestir itself. The 
 strain upon the Department was unprecedented, and 
 several permanent officials were late for lunch at
 
 The Hon. Bob bestirs himself. 271 
 
 their clubs; but the outcome was that Morley Griffin, 
 in addition to a Free Pardon for saving Myra 
 Gradwell's life, received a second Free Pardon for 
 — a crime, it was now proved, he had never com- 
 mitted ! Justice may occasionally make a mistake; 
 but — never apologises.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 JUSTICE AT LAST. 
 
 ALTHOUGH still officially known as convict 
 Z 754 and a prisoner in the gaol-infirmary, 
 Morley Griffin had very pleasant dreams the night 
 of his recapture. Had not the Governor, Major 
 
 S , himself, so far unbended from his habitual 
 
 stiffness as to compliment him upon his prowess 
 and to predict his forthcoming liberation ? Had 
 not the chaplain congratulated him ? And had 
 not the doctor applied bandages and lotion to his 
 injured ankle with his own hands ? Therefore 
 Morley slept peacefully and dreamt of Myra. 
 Whereas (if the truth be told) poor Myra could not 
 sleep at all, at the cottage, — thinking of him. 
 
 The following day he received two telegrams 
 (true, they had been opened officially, but what did 
 that matter ?), and the Chief Warder smiled mean- 
 ingly as he handed them to him. They ran as 
 follows : 
 
 272
 
 Justice at last. 273 
 
 " First heard of escape at Monaco, and hastened back 
 to visit West. I have just read about your encounter 
 with Wolf yesterday. ]Vish I had been tJiere to see 
 it. Must have been a rare set-to. Bravo, old chap ! 
 My innnediate mission in life is to haunt Home Secretary. 
 Yonr release merely question of Red Tape. Within ten 
 days, I hope, so keep your pecker up. — R. Dyver. 
 
 ** Ditto to all Bob says. Came with him from Monaco 
 upon off-chance of being useful. Glorious news. Club 
 in ferment of delight. Ovation in preparation for you. 
 
 — HEAVYSinE." 
 
 " Well meant," remarked the Chief Warder, 
 quietly, " but not very discreetly worded. I begin 
 to think I did well to shift you to another cell some 
 time back." 
 
 " Do you ? " asked Griffin innoccntl}-. " I have 
 often wondered why you did so ; but I suppose you 
 had your reasons." 
 
 " Yes," assented the other, laughing, " I had. 
 
 And I daresay you could make a near guess at what 
 
 those reasons were. But, you see, you were given 
 
 away." 
 
 *• Well, all I can say is," rejoined Griffin, drily, 
 
 18
 
 274 Dartmoor. 
 
 "that the man who would give another away 
 deserves to be — say, crippled for life." 
 
 "Like Jason?" suggested the Chief Warder, 
 quaintly. 
 
 " Very like Jason," replied Griffin ; " very like 
 indeed," 
 
 You see, one may bandy jokes with a prisoner 
 who is a bit of a lion, and whose release is a foregone 
 conclusion ! 
 
 Major S had probably received instructions 
 
 from the Home Office to allow his recaptured 
 prisoner every possible indulgence ; for that same 
 afternoon, when Walter Gradwell and his daughter 
 asked permission to visit him, they were conducted 
 to his bedside without demur. 
 
 Gradwell was delighted with the telegrams. " It 
 would be a real pleasure," he protested, "to shake 
 those two gentlemen by the hand. Why, Mr. 
 Griffin, you 're as good as a free man already. Our 
 poor little petition, from the residents hereabouts, 
 won't be needed at all, though I can tell you the 
 names are pouring in like wild-fire ! I 'd like to 
 make a copy of these two wires, if you don't
 
 Justice at last. 275 
 
 mind, just to look at now and then and laugh 
 over." 
 
 And receiving a smiling assent, Mr. Gradwell 
 moved off to a distant window to execute his project. 
 Did he divine that the young people had confidences 
 to interchange ? Or that Myra would thank her 
 deliverer with less embarrassment were he not by ? 
 At all events, he left them together. 
 
 " Myra," said Morley, gently ; " I have some- 
 thing to ask you." 
 
 The girl's beautiful brown eyes met his for a 
 second, and then the long lashes veiled them. But 
 long as they were, they could not cover the blush 
 that rose to her cheek. 
 
 Morley gazed at the pretty, half-shy, half-expect- 
 ant face, and apparently drew hopeful augury from 
 the scrutiny. 
 
 " Myra," he said again, " I have something very 
 important to ask }'Ou. You know my" story. You 
 know that I was convicted of a disgraceful crime, of 
 which, as God is my judge, I am innocent. They 
 are, it seems, going to give me my freedom ; not 
 because I am innocent, but because I protected you 
 
 18 -
 
 276 Dartmoor. 
 
 against The Wolf. I have yet to prove my inno- 
 cence in the eyes of men; and I beheve that, once 
 free, I shall do so — u'hen I find Darrell.'" 
 
 Myra noticed how the rich, soft voice hardened, 
 and how the bright blue eyes gleamed, as these last 
 words were spoken ; but she remained silent. 
 
 " I thought, a week ago," continued Morley, 
 " that I had but one purpose in regaining my free- 
 dom. Now I know that I have another. They are 
 about to give me back my life, Myra ; but I need 
 your love to make that life worth living. Will you 
 be my wife ? " 
 
 ''My life," answered Myra, her soft brown eyes 
 meeting his frankly, lovingly, " I owe you already. 
 My love was yours — I think, from the first time I 
 heard your story. But neither my life nor my love 
 can avail to make you happy, unless you, once and 
 for ever, forego all intention of revenge upon your 
 betrayer. Do this ! Prove yourself as noble-minded 
 as you are brave and strong, and — make me the 
 happiest girl in England ! " 
 
 " What you ask is hard to do, darling," said her 
 lover, "harder than you perhaps think: for, I ha,ve
 
 Justice at last. 277 
 
 suffered cruel wrong, and the impulse to retaliate is 
 strong within me. Yet, for your sweet sake, I would 
 do it were it a thousand times harder. I promise 
 that I will not seek to avenge myself upon Hugh 
 Darrell. But you must not ask me to forgive him. 
 That I cannot do ! " 
 
 A flush of pleasure lit up the bright young face, 
 and the ripe, red lips, of their own accord, sought his. 
 
 " Forgiveness will come in time, my Hero ! " 
 she whispered gently. "And do you know, Morley, 
 I am selfish enough to remember that, had this 
 great injustice not befallen you, I would never 
 have seen you. Under Heaven, I owe all my happi- 
 ness to Hugh Darrell ! " 
 
 You see, they are very simple-minded, some of 
 these Devon lasses, and believe in Providence just 
 as their forbears did. 
 
 " And he owes you his life, Myra," her lover 
 answered, gravely. "It has long been the one fixed 
 purpose of my life to hunt him down. However, 
 you have my promise, and there the whole miserable 
 business ends.'' 
 
 At that precise moment, Mr. Gradwell thought
 
 278 Dartmoor. 
 
 fit to announce that he had completed his task; nor 
 could Morley devise any decent pretext for asking 
 him to make a second copy. 
 
 " Your friend Mr. Dyver," remarked Mr. Grad- 
 well, "is a credit to human nature, let alone to the 
 aristocracy." 
 
 " Dear old Bob ! " exclaimed Morley, enthusias- 
 tically. " Won't he be surprised when he learns 
 that I have won a wife, as well as my freedom, by 
 taking his advice and going into training ! " 
 
 " Eh ? " queried Gradwell. " What 's that about 
 a wife ? " 
 
 " Sim.ply that I love Myra very dearly," replied 
 Morley, " and that she loves me in return." 
 
 " Oh ! " said Gradwell, drily. " That 's it, is it ? 
 Well, I saw what was coming, and, had I seen any 
 reason to object to you as a husband for my girl, I'd 
 have spoken up ere this. Take her, my lad. And 
 may you both be as happy as I hope to see you ! " 
 
 And so, without further fuss, it was decided that 
 the marriage should take place as soon after 
 Morley's release, and as quietly as possible. 
 
 " That will be three weeks from the day you
 
 Justice at last. 279 
 
 leave this place, then," remarked Gradvvell. " Of 
 course you will have to run up to London to see 
 into your affairs, and I think the simplest way would 
 be to have the banns put up there." 
 
 " Oh, I 'm quite content with the agreement that 
 we are to be married as soon as possible ! '" rejoined 
 Morley. "That's understood, isn't it, Myra ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented the young girl, blushing prettily, 
 " I . . . suppose so." 
 
 " The doctor tells me I shall be able to hop about, 
 with the help of a stick, in a couple of days," said 
 the invalid, " and the Governor has promised to let 
 me have the run of his own private garden. They 
 give me everything I ask for. So, you see, I have 
 nothing to complain about as regards my treatment. 
 But," he added, with a look at Myra which deepened 
 the blush on that young lady's cheek, " I do hope 
 Bob Dyver will succeed in hurrying up the Home 
 Secretary." 
 
 " And I '11 go and rake in the signatures to 
 our local petition ! " cried Gradwell, energetically. 
 " Come along, Myra child. Wc '11 be having the 
 doctor down upon us for exciting his patient. Good-
 
 28o Dariuiuuv. 
 
 bye, my dear lad. We'll come and see you every 
 second day." 
 
 And, shaking Morley cordially by the hand, the 
 big-hearted law-breaker discreetly turned his back 
 to give the lovers opportunity for a parting embrace. 
 
 The Hon. Bob did not fail to keep his incarcerated 
 friend well-informed of the startling events which 
 occurred during the ensuing three days, by an 
 avalanche of telegrams, letters, and newspapers. In 
 succession came the news of the Clapham Murder, 
 of Darrell's assassination, of Aaronson's confession, 
 and of the discoveries made by the police amongst 
 Martha Nesbitt's correspondence. And then — two 
 days later — came the crowning piece of intelligence. 
 
 Our hero, Myra, and Gradwell were seated in the 
 Governor's garden, discussing the terrible and won- 
 drous things that had so suddenly come to pass, when 
 
 Major S' was seen advancing towards them, an 
 
 open telegram in his hand. Now the Major was a 
 great stickler for punctilio, and his first words were 
 somewhat mysterious : 
 
 "Mr. Morley Griffin, I believe?" he remarked, 
 enquiringly.
 
 Justice ai last. 281 
 
 " Yes, sir," answered Morley, amazed at the 
 question and standing at 'attention' ; " I am Morley 
 Griffin." 
 
 "Then permit mc to introduce myself," rejoined 
 
 the Major. " I am Major S , Governor of H.M. 
 
 Penal Establishment at Dartmoor. Will you kindly 
 present your friends ? " 
 
 "Major S ,— Mr. Walter Gradwell. Miss 
 
 Gradwell, — Major S ," stammered Morley, sup- 
 pressing a strong inclination to laugh. 
 
 " I have received a telegram from the Secretary 
 of State for the Home Department," continued the 
 Major, "concerning you, and which I have great 
 pleasure in showing to you." 
 
 He handed Morley the telegram as he spoke. 
 What wonder if the young giant's hand shook, and 
 if his voice trembled as he read the dispatch aloud ? 
 
 " Major S , Guvernor, Dartmoor. — Ample proofs 
 
 having been adduced of miscarriage of justice in case of 
 Morley Criffin, noiu in your charge, I have recommended 
 Her Majesty to grant unconditional free pardoji in his 
 favour. Release him at his own convenience. — Cross, 
 Home Secretary.'''
 
 282 Dartmoor. 
 
 A dead silence ensued for perhaps five seconds ; and 
 then, despite the presence of the Governor, Nature 
 asserted her swa}-. Gradwell hurled his hat in the 
 air with a ringing cheer, whilst Myra threw herself, 
 sobbing with joy, into her lover's outstretched arms. 
 
 " Upon my word," remarked Major S , blowing 
 
 his nose with apparently unnecessary vigour, " I am 
 extremely glad, Mr. Griffin, to make your acquaint- 
 ance and . . . er . . . that of 3'our friends, under 
 such gratifying circumstances. I trust 3'ou will all 
 do me the honour to partake of luncheon." 
 
 And so it came to pass that ex-convict Z 754, still 
 wearing the suit which Gradwell had given him, was 
 that day an honoured guest at the table of his late 
 goaler-in-chief. The Major still kept up the fiction 
 of having just met Morley for the first time, and in- 
 troduced him, with all due formality, to the chaplain, 
 doctor, and other principal officials. Perhaps nothing 
 could have brought home the fact more clearly to 
 his mind that he was, in very sooth, his old self 
 again, and that the sufferings of the past two years 
 were but as memories of some hideous nightmare. 
 
 Bob Dyver telegraphed that he and Heavyside
 
 Justice at last. 283 
 
 would arrive that afternoon to carry him off in 
 triumph to London ; and when Gradwell departed 
 with Myra for the cottage, they did not expect to 
 see Morley again for some weeks. Strange to say, 
 he appeared to be in no way downcast at the pros- 
 pect of this lengthy separation from his sweetheart; 
 and poor Myra subsequently shed some tears in 
 private over his seeming indifference. 
 
 " He doesn't think so much about me now," she 
 told herself, sadly. " Perhaps, when he returns to 
 his former friends and his old life, he will forget me 
 entirely." 
 
 Peace, silly little fluttering heart ! You little 
 dream of the surprise which your love-inspired, artful 
 captor has in store for you. 
 
 Dyver and Heavyside duly arrived, were cordially 
 
 welcomed by their former host. Major S , and, 
 
 after much leave - taking of his late custodians, 
 Morley accompanied them back to London, where 
 the ovation foretold by the dragoon was in store for 
 the returned exile. The twice-disappointed Walters 
 awaited them at the terminus with a dogcart drawn 
 by the fast-trotting mare.
 
 284 Dartmoor. 
 
 " Glad to see you back, sir, safe and sound," he 
 said, touching his hat respectfully. " It only seems 
 like yesterday that I and the mare were waiting for 
 you here, — and she fit to go for her life ! " 
 
 "The third time is the charm, you know, 
 Walters," laughed Morley, as the mare whirled them 
 off to his old rooms, already prepared for his 
 reception. 
 
 That night still lingers in the memories of what 
 may be termed the " Dyver Set " as a distinctly wet 
 one, — an expression, I am given to understand* 
 having no reference whatever to the weather, but 
 rather to the quantity of iiuid refreshments con- 
 sumed. Yet surely if ever occasion justified a little 
 extra conviviality, the present was such an occasion. 
 For there was Morley Griffin, everybody's favourite, 
 back — if not from the grave, at least from a living 
 tomb — amongst his old friends, a martyr and a hero! 
 What wonder if the corks popped like volleys of 
 musketry, and glasses were raised, with imprudent 
 frequency, in his honour ? 
 
 " Never felt inclined for soda-water down at 
 Dartmoor," muttered Morley, when he awoke next
 
 Justice at last. 285 
 
 morning. " What a pace Bob and Heavyside set 
 last night to be sure! Ah, well! No great harm, 
 once in a way. And now for a stili' day's work." 
 
 His first visit was to his law3ers, who congratu- 
 lated him warmly on his regained freedom and 
 complete exoneration from the charge upon which 
 he had been convicted. 
 
 " Were you a poor man," remarked Mr. Drabb, 
 the senior partner, " I have no doubt the Treasury 
 would make you some monetary compensation for 
 your unmerited punishment ; but, placed as you are, 
 no such claim could decently be put forward. You 
 must rest content with the hearty sympathy of all 
 right-minded persons. Now, as to business. That 
 forfeiture-clause threatened to give us some trouble ; 
 but, of course, as events have turned out, it ceases 
 to operate. You merely require to sign a release to 
 your trustees, to enter into possession of your fortune, 
 which, with accumulated interest, now exceeds 
 3^17,000. We have instructed your bankers to place 
 £500 to your current account." 
 
 " Thank you," answered Morley. " Some of it 
 will come in very handy just now."
 
 286 Dartmoor. 
 
 Mr. Drabb smiled. 
 
 " Money seldom comes amiss," he observed, 
 quietly. " By the way, Mr. Griffin, have you any 
 idea why this Hugh Darrell persecuted you so 
 remorselessly ? " 
 
 " No," was the reply ;. " unless it was jealousy 
 over Miss Conyers. I never injured the man, to my 
 knowledge, in my life." 
 
 "Jealousy may have intensified his hatred of 
 you," rejoined the lawyer, " but the main cause of 
 his dastardly conduct was a different one, and has 
 only quite recently come to light. From letters and 
 other documents found in the safe of the woman he 
 murdered at Clapham (and who was in reality his 
 mother), it is clear that Hugh Darrell was the 
 illegitimate son of the late Colonel Hewitt Griffin." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed Morley. " My uncle's 
 son?" 
 
 "Just so," assented Mr. Drabb, "and therefore, 
 in a sense, your cousin. Now the Colonel, whom I 
 knew well, was a very eccentric man, a great believer 
 in astrology, fortune- telling, and such nonsense. 
 Whilst you were still a lad at Harrow, some char-
 
 Justice at last. 287 
 
 latan told him, or he discovered for himself, that his 
 heir would disgrace himself and come to a bad end 
 within ten years ; and so convinced was he of the 
 truth of this revelation, that he framed his Will in 
 accordance with it. That was why, you being 
 then thirteen years old, he fixed your testamentary 
 majority at twenty-three, and added the forfeiture- 
 clause, in favour of Martha Nesbitt and her son 
 Hugh, should your conduct justify this strange 
 prediction. When we add that this Hugh turns out 
 to be identical with the man whom you knew as 
 Hugh Darrell, his object in getting you convicted of 
 felony is apparent." 
 
 *' I understand it all now," said Morley. " He 
 looked upon me as standing between him and what 
 he doubtless regarded as his birthright." 
 
 Mr. Drabb nodded acquiescence. " The strangest 
 part of the affair is," he continued, reflectively, 
 "that, illegitimacy apart, this Hugh Uarrell ivas his 
 natural heir, did disgrace himself, and did come to 
 a bad end. Rather a remarkable coincidence, I 
 consider it. However, that's all past and done with. 
 If you will call, say, in three days' time, Mr. Griffin,
 
 288 Dartmoor. 
 
 I shall have all in readiness to place you in full 
 possession of your inheritance." 
 
 To this Morley readily agreed, and then drove, 
 naturally enough, to his bankers, where he drew 
 3^250, His thoughts next took an ecclesiastical 
 bent, apparentl}', for he ordered the cabman to 
 proceed to Lambeth Palace. There he had an 
 interview with a grave-looking secretary, who finally 
 filled in an imposing, highly-ornate, printed form, 
 and received in exchange the sum of £^0. 
 
 Looking vastly pleased over this rather expensive 
 investment, Morley was then driven to a telegraph- 
 office, and dispatched the following : — 
 
 " Walter GradwcU, Hope Cottage, Dene Hollow, 
 via Princetown, Dartmoor. — Get someone to look after 
 cottage and Judith. Come up to town to-day with Myra. 
 Drive from station to Brown's Hotel, Dover Street, 
 where rooms engaged. Urgent and important, so donU 
 fail. — Morley Griffin, Mohawk Club, St. James'." 
 
 Upon the way to Brown's Hotel, our hero paid a 
 visit to Hancock's, the well-known jewellers, as 
 though bent upon getting rid of the balance of his
 
 Justice at last. 289 
 
 money. Yet, as his purchase was a very simple one, 
 and he received change out of a ;^5 note, lavish 
 expenditure was clearly not his present object after 
 all. He secured the necessary rooms at l^)rown's, 
 and then wound up at the Mohawk Club to lunch 
 with Dyver and Heavyside. 
 
 To them he narrated what he had done, having 
 previously given them a full account of his adven- 
 tures at Dene Hollow. 
 
 " But I say, Morley old chap," protested the 
 Hon. Bob, " isn't this going the thing rather 
 suddenly, you know ? " 
 
 " Morley 's quite right," put in the dragoon. 
 " I'll see him through, if you funk it, I^)ob." 
 
 " I'll yield my place to no man," retorted Dyver. 
 " Look after the traps and the commissariat, Dick. 
 They're more in \our line." 
 
 " All right," assented Heavyside. *' Jermyn 
 Street at 12.15, eh ? " 
 
 "That will do admirably," said Morley. "But 
 I wonder what Gradwcll will say?"
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WHAT HAPPENED IN JERMYN STREET. 
 
 TT7ALTER GRADWELL received Morley's 
 V V telegram soon after mid-day, and was sorely 
 puzzled to divine what unlooked-for event could 
 have happened to render his presence with Myra in 
 London so " urgent and important." 
 
 " Surely there can't be any hitch at the Home 
 Office about the Free Pardon ! " he exclaimed. " Can 
 it be that Myra's personal evidence is needed ? Yet, 
 they couldn't well re-arrest him after letting him go. 
 I give it up. But since we're wanted, we'll go. I 
 can get Dave Herrick and his sister to look after the 
 old girl. Myra child, pack up your best things, and 
 put my blue frock-coat in with them. One needs to 
 look a bit smart in the West End of London." 
 
 Myra obeyed, wondering greatly at the suddenness 
 of the summons, and wondering, it may be, still more 
 whether her best Sunday gown, and the new bonnet 
 with the pink trimmings, would pass muster in the 
 metropolis. 
 
 ago
 
 What happened in Jermyn Street. 291 
 
 They reached Paddington at half-past seven, 
 where Morley, notified by telegram of their departure, 
 was waiting to escort them to Dover Street. Myra 
 had never yet seen her lover dressed to advantage, 
 and as she caught a first glimpse of him, towering 
 above all other men and looking so elegant and 
 handsome, she could scarcely refrain from cr}ing out 
 in her joy and pride. 
 
 Even Gradwell was startled by the altered appear- 
 ance of his prospective son-in-law. "We're but 
 homely folk to rub shoulders with fashionable people," 
 he remarked, as the hotel brougham bore them 
 swiftly along. 
 
 " Meaning your clothes?" asked Morley, laughing. 
 " Make your mind quite easy on that score. You will 
 find your rooms more or less inundated with things, 
 from amongst which you will be able to make shift 
 for a day or so until the tailors put you to rights. 
 As for Myra, Madame Hortense will see to her." 
 
 " Well," said Gradwell, " we are in your hands, 
 
 and I suppose you know best. But, tell me, why 
 
 did you send for us so suddenly ?" 
 
 Morley trod on the speaker's foot, warningly. " I 
 
 ig *
 
 292 Dartmoor. 
 
 will tell you presently," he answered, " after dinner ; 
 for I have invited myself to dine with you to-night." 
 
 " Dine ? " repeated Myra in astonishment. " Why, 
 we dined before we left the cottage ! " 
 
 " They call that luncheon here," explained her 
 lover, gazing tenderly into the wondering brown 
 eyes. 
 
 " Call it dinner, or supper, or what you will," put 
 in Gradwell heartily, " I '11 do justice to it. TraveUing 
 is rare hungry work." 
 
 Possibly the hall porter was not much impressed 
 by the luggage of the new guests, consisting, as it 
 did, of a box, carpet bag, and band-box containing 
 the bonnet with the pink trimmings. But then, the 
 quantity of goods previously sent up to the suite 
 engaged for number 17 made amends. 
 
 Doubtless this sturdy-looking gent, and his pretty 
 daughter had escaped from a shipwreck and had 
 come to London to refit. Their sponsor, at all 
 events, was quite the correct thing, and therefore he 
 received them benignly. 
 
 Now Brown's Hotel is, in vulgar parlance, 
 distinctly a "swell" caravanserai, whereas, in the
 
 What happened in Jermyn Street. 293 
 
 same argot, the Metropole and the Savoy are merely 
 *' swagger " hotels. Under the circumstances Morley 
 had exercised a wise discretion in selecting the 
 former. This, of course, is by the way and without 
 prejudice. 
 
 Dinner passed off admirably, as it needs must — 
 given healthy appetites and a good chef. Then, 
 whilst Myra retired to discuss possibilities, at short 
 notice, with Madame Hortense's emissary, Morley 
 and Gradwell came to an understanding over their 
 cigars and coffee. Gradwell listened to Morley's 
 explanation at first doubtfully, then relentingly, and 
 finally good-humouredly. 
 
 " Have it your own way, my lad !" he exclaimed, 
 when the whole of the dire plot had been un- 
 folded. "I won't say you haven't stolen a march, 
 because you have. But I don't blame you, not I. 
 And ... if you should chance to call round to- 
 morrow to take Myra and myself for a walk, why I 
 suppose we can't do less than accompany you. 
 But, I say • . . own up now. This is your friend 
 Dyver's idea, isn't it ? Just the sort of joke I can 
 fancy him planning out. I "m really anxious to meet
 
 294 Dartmooy. 
 
 this Mr. Dyver. A straight-going, over-proof sample, 
 I call him ! " 
 
 " Are you ? " rejoined Morley. " That's very 
 luclcy, because, strange to say, he and Heavyside are 
 just as anxious to meet you ! It 's quite early yet. 
 Come round with me to the Club." 
 
 "But how about Myra?" asked Gradwell, weigh- 
 ing his parental responsibilities against his own 
 inclinations. 
 
 "My dear Gradwell," explained Morley, "Myra 
 will be as happy as . . . as, sa}^, a man who has 
 just received a Free Pardon . . . amongst the 
 chiffons that all girls love. Go into her rooms your- 
 self and tell her you 're going out for an hour or so, 
 that I 'm waiting to say Good-night, and that . . . 
 she's not to sit up for you. I'll bet you a new hat 
 you'll find her and the girl from Hortense's up to 
 their eyes in millinery." 
 
 " For a young man who has been lately quarrying 
 granite," remarked Gradwell, whom an unexception- 
 able dinner and vintage wines had rendered a trifle 
 facetious, "you seem to know a great deal about 
 young women's tastes. Let us see."
 
 What happened in Jermyn Street. 295- 
 
 He presently returned with Myra. " You were 
 right," he whispered. "They were up to their eyes 
 in it ! Say Good-night and let's be off." 
 
 Saying Good-night was, apparently, more than 
 mere repetition of the simple words, for Mr. Gradwell 
 was allowed a liberal ten minutes to cool his heels in 
 the hall ere Morley rejoined him. Then they pro- 
 ceeded arm-in-arm to the Club. 
 
 The Hon. Bob Dyver and Captain Heavyside 
 were discovered in the billiard room pla3'ing 200 up. 
 
 " Hullo, old chap ! " cried Dyver. " Found your 
 way round, eh ? I say, I wish you'd take my cue. 
 Can't play a bit to-night, and Dick is 186 to my 141." 
 
 " How the deuce do }ou expect me to play 
 billiards, seeing that I haven't touched a cue for 
 over two years?" asked Morley. "But let me 
 introduce to you \\\y friend, my more than friend, 
 Mr. Gradwell. Mr. Gradwell . . . the Hon. Robert 
 Dyver, and another old pal of mine, Captain 
 Heavyside. Gentlemen, spare me further formula ; 
 know one another." 
 
 Inasmuch as they already knew each other so 
 well by name, Morley 's appeal needed no seconding.
 
 • 296 iDartuwur. 
 
 Captain Heavyside ran out in his next break, and 
 they all adjourned to the smoking-room. There the 
 programme for the following day was definitely 
 arranged, and Morley, successfully resisting Dyver's 
 intermediate suggestions of "just one last soda," 
 landed his father-in-law elect safely at Brown's before 
 midnight, and was himself dreaming — ah ! who shall 
 say what rapturous dreams ? — before Big Ben had 
 tolled the half-hour. 
 
 What more natural than that the Hon. Bob 
 Dyver should call the next day at about 11 a.m. to 
 visit his newly made acquaintance, and that he 
 should have found Morley Griffin deep in conversation 
 with an extremely pretty brown-eyed, brown-haired 
 young lady ? 
 
 Gradwell did the honours. " Mr. Dyver," he 
 said in his best manner, " this is my daughter Myra. 
 Myra, — the Hon. Robert Dyver, Morley's oldest and 
 dearest friend." 
 
 Myra smiled sweetly upon the sandy-haired little 
 gentleman, who had striven so manfully in her 
 lover's behalf, and shook his hand with charming 
 earnestness.
 
 What happened in Jcrniyni Street. 297 
 
 " You must be my friend also," she said frankly, 
 " and let me be yours." 
 
 *' Agreed to, with all my heart, Miss Gradwell," 
 replied the Hon. Bob. " I always thought Morley 
 about the unluckiest fellow I ever knew. But, 
 by Jove, the tide has changed now with a 
 
 vengeance ! 
 
 Myra blushed laughingly at the implied compli- 
 ment, and glanced half-shyly at her stalwart lover. 
 
 " It has indeed, Bob," assented Morley. " But 
 I think Dame Fortune will have exhausted her good 
 things when she gives me Myra." 
 
 Then a walk was suggested, the day being cold 
 and bright and clear — one of those crisp, bracing 
 days that sometimes precede November fogs. Madame 
 Hortense's hurried efforts had not been spared, and 
 when Myra made her appearance in a superb sealskin 
 jacket with cap to match, she looked simply be- 
 witching. Dyver and Gradwell went ahead ; she 
 and Morley followed. Somehow their way led them 
 through Jermyn Street, and, just upon the stroke of 
 twelve, they passed a church. 
 
 " Hullo ! " exclaimed Dyver, stopping short.
 
 2g8 Daytmoor. 
 
 "here's a church with the door open, Happy 
 thought. Let us go inside." 
 
 And Myra, who supposed that churches formed 
 items in the programme of sight-seeing, fell inno- 
 cently into the snare. Not until a clergyman, clad 
 in his robes of office and accompanied b}' a sedate- 
 looking person in black, advanced towards them from 
 the vestry, did a suspicion of the truth dawn upon her. 
 Then she glanced at her lover's radiant face and knew 
 all. She was about to become Morley's wife, not in 
 three weeks' time as her father had said, but that very 
 day ! The little heart beat fast ; she felt frightened 
 (she knew not why) at the suddenness of the surprise. 
 Her colour came and w^ent, and she looked half- 
 piteousl}- at Morley. 
 
 "Be brave, m}- darling," he whispered. " I couldn't 
 bear to wait three long weeks, and so I procured a 
 special license. You have nothing to do but to sa}' 
 ' I will,' when the clergyman asks you if you will 
 take me for your husband." And, so saying, he 
 handed her over to her father, whose mission it, of 
 course, was to give her away. What could she do 
 but obey her lover's instructions.
 
 What happened in Jermyn Street. 299 
 
 It was the quietest possible of weddings, Dyver 
 acted as best man, whilst Captain Heavyside just 
 came in in time for the ceremony. In one short 
 quarter of an hour Myra Gradwell became Morley's 
 wife. But when the officiating clergyman had 
 pronounced the benediction the stillness of the old 
 church was broken. For, bribed and instigated 
 thereto by Dyver, the organist had bided his time 
 and now burst forth with the glorious Wedding 
 March, to the soul-stirring strains of which the 
 newly-made bride walked back to the vestry upon 
 her husband's arm. There Morley forestalled a 
 clever flank movement on the part of the Hon. Bob 
 to secure the first kiss. Captain Heavyside was 
 duly introduced, claimed successfully a similar 
 privilege, as an old friend of the bridegroom, signed 
 as a witness, and hurried away to ensure that the 
 carriages were in readiness. 
 
 Mr. Gradwell, looking very imposing indeed in a 
 fur-lined overcoat, embraced his daughter tenderly. 
 
 " It was scarcely fair, my dear, to take you by 
 surprise like this, was it?" he whispered. "But 
 there, I married }-our mother in much the same way,
 
 300 Dartmoor. 
 
 and I don't think we, either of us, ever had cause to 
 regret it." 
 
 Two barouches were in waiting at the church 
 door. The bride and bridegroom had one to them- 
 selves, whilst the three gentlemen took possession 
 of the other. Captain Heavyside's arrangements 
 included a wedding-breakfast at the Star and Garter, 
 Richmond, where they formed as merry a party as 
 ever that famous hostelry harboured within its walls. 
 
 The honeymoon was as quiet as the wedding. 
 Bognor was the place chosen ; and there the young 
 couple abandoned themselves to three weeks of 
 dehghtful, selfish, unalloyed happiness. 
 
 Mr. Gradwell, after spending a pleasant week in 
 the society of Dyver and Heavyside, returned to the 
 cottage at Dene Hollow, where extensive alterations 
 were forthwith taken in hand. 
 
 But little more remains to be told. 
 
 Morley Griffin, no longer the impulsive, some- 
 what flighty Morley Griffin of old, but a steady-going 
 married man, deeply impressed with the responsi- 
 bilities of his position, invested the greater part of his
 
 What happened in Jennyn Street. 301 
 
 fortune in a sound, prosperous business, and soon 
 found himself in the receipt of a handsome and 
 increasing income. He and his young wife reside in 
 town ; but they invariably spend two months each 
 year with Mr. Gradwell at the cottage, which, how- 
 ever, has outgrown all claims to that unpretentious 
 title. Needless to say, Mr. Gradwell at once 
 abandoned his illicit distilling, upon his daughter's 
 marriage, and the "Smuggler's Caves" are now 
 quite the show-places of the neighbourhood. 
 
 Mrs. Darrell has never returned to England. 
 Her husband's death placed her in possession of the 
 ;{"io,ooo insurance money, and this, in addition to 
 her own ^TiOjOOO, obviously sufficed to maintain her 
 in comfort. Rumour had it, at one time, that she 
 was preparing to enter a religious community in 
 Rome ; but those best acquainted with her shallow, 
 unstable character averred that she had merely 
 taken up this sensational phase of religion as a dis- 
 traction. She is, at all events, little likely to cross 
 her former lover's path. 
 
 Her mother, Lady Conyers, is still to the fore 
 during the London season, and still affects Italy
 
 302 Dartmoor 
 
 during the remainder of the year. Amongst the 
 wedding - presents, which poured in after the 
 announcement of Morley's marriage appeared in 
 the newspapers, was a massive bracelet set with 
 brilhants and sapphires, with which were enclosed 
 the following lines : — 
 
 " To Morley Griffin. A token of good-infill and of 
 unavailing regrets for misjudging liim. — H.CJ" 
 
 Now, Lady Conyers' name is Helen. 
 
 The Hon. Bob Dyver still treads in the flowery 
 paths reserved for heirs to peerages, and still 
 postpones, as he puts it, "weighing in for the 
 Matrimonial Stakes." Upon the other hand, it is 
 credibly asserted that Heavyside is only awaiting 
 a majority in his regiment, to imitate Morley's 
 example. 
 
 Such then is the story of " Dartmoor " as I, its 
 chronicler, have many times heard it from the lips 
 of the principal characters concerned in it. Bob 
 Dyver, Heavyside, and I are, indeed, frequent guests 
 at Dene Hollow during the hot August days; and, 
 upon one of these visits, I read out my version for
 
 What happened in Jcrmyn Street. 303 
 
 criticism. On the whole, it has been approved of. 
 Then I be^^ed Mrs. Morley Griffin to dictate the 
 Moral of the Story. 
 
 " Oh, I'll do that for }'ou ! " exclaimed the Hon. 
 Bob, removing his cigar from his lips, as we lounged 
 under the shady verandah. " Keep your muscles in 
 good trim " 
 
 " And learn how to box ! " supplemented the 
 dragoon. 
 
 "Silence, scoffers!" I replied severely. "I 
 asked Mrs. Griffin, not you." 
 
 And then brown-haired, brown-eyed Myra, seated 
 at her husband's feet and caressing her first-born, 
 who was joyously riding to Banbur}- Cross upon his 
 knee, granted my request. These were the words 
 that she spoke, and I know that every heart in our 
 little group re-echoed them :— 
 
 *' Thus may Evil oftimes turn to Good, and our 
 bitterest trials be but the prelude to an enduring 
 happiness ! " 
 
 THE END. 
 
 FRINTING OFFICE OF THE PUDLtSHER,
 
 flPFocusmitb's 3/6 Series. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 Vol. II, 
 Yol. III. 
 Vol. lY. 
 
 Vol. Y. 
 
 Crown 8vo, cloth. 
 THREE MEN IN A BOAT ... 
 
 (To SaV NoTfllNO OF THE DoG) 
 
 THE END OF A LIFE 
 
 DIARY OF A PILGRIMAGE ... 
 
 RECALLED TO LIFE 
 
 A FRENCHMAN IN AMERICA 
 
 Yol. YI. THE SUPERNATURAL? 
 
 YoLYII. THE WHITE HAT 
 
 Yol.YIII. FIFTY POUNDS FOR A WIFE 
 
 Yol. IX. A TIGER'S CUB 
 
 Yol. X. WHEN I LIYED IN BOHEMIA 
 
 Yol. XI. THE DIARY OF A NOBODY 
 
 Yol. Xn. FLYING YISITS 
 
 Yol. XIII. "LIFE IN HIM YET" 
 
 Yol.XIY. DR. PAULL'S THEORY 
 
 Yol. XY. CLAUD BRENNAN 
 
 „ , YUT TTHE GREAT SHADOW and 
 Vol.AYl.^ BEYOND THE CITY 
 
 Yol. XYII. THREE BRACE OF LOYERS 
 
 Yol.XYIII. THE PRISONER OF ZENDA 
 
 Yol. XIX. NEIGHBOURS OF OURS 
 
 Yol. XX. STATION STORIES 
 
 Yol. XXI. PETER STEELE, THE 
 
 CRICKETER 
 
 Yol. XXII. DEAD MAN'S COURT 
 
 Yol. XXIII. "NOT EXACTLY " 
 
 Yol. XXIY. MINOR DIALOGUES 
 
 Jerome K. Jerome. 
 
 Eden Phillpotts. 
 Jerome K. Jerome. 
 Grant Allen. 
 Max O'ReU. 
 ( L. A. Weatherly 
 
 \ AND 
 
 i J. N. Maskelyne. 
 
 Finch Mason. 
 
 A. L. Glyn. 
 
 Eden Phillpotts. 
 
 Fergus Hume. 
 [ George Grossmith 
 
 J AND 
 
 i Weedon Grossmith. 
 
 Harry Furniss. 
 
 /Henry St. John 
 (^ Raikes. 
 
 Mrs. A. M. Diehl. 
 John Ferrars. 
 
 
 [ Conan Doyle. 
 
 Harold Yallings. 
 
 Anthony Hope. 
 
 Henry W. Nevinson 
 
 Murray Cator. 
 
 1 Horace G. Hutchin- 
 / son. 
 
 Maurice H. Hervey. 
 
 E. M. Stooke. 
 
 W. Pett Ridge. 
 
 Bristol: J. W. AurtowsMiTH, 11 Quay Street. 
 IjCmdon: SiMrKiN, 'MaKSHali,, Hamii.to.v, Kk.nt & Co. Limited.

 
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