Rupert, whose knowledge of the moor told him that escape was impossible for one as ignorant of his surroundings as poor 303, stooped down to tie his shoelace. "For God's sake, don't be a fool! Summer fogs are no good, I can't——"
"No. 381, stand up! All present, chief."
The chief warder immediately gave the order to march, and the whole party moved up the centre of the field towards the prison, the warders marching beside their charges and the armed guard about thirty paces away extended so as to completely surround them.
Further conversation was rendered impossible. A faint breeze began to stir the still air, bringing a damp mist, which beat in their faces. Rupert, with his eyes fixed on the ground, began to pray that the approaching fog might not blow away. A chance had come—for him. His heart went out in tender sympathy to the poor soul who could not face the long dreary years of his punishment yet to come, while his mind was torn in two by an agony of doubt.
He, who knew the moors so well, did not believe for a moment that, alone and unhampered, he could escape; even if they could hide on the moors for a day or two, capture in the end was inevitable. All he wanted was to get to Blackthorn Farm; but 303 wanted to get clear away.
Within a few minutes telephones and telegraphs would inform every town and village in the two counties, every railway station would be watched, every egress barred; every constable in Devon and Cornwall would block all roads.
Suddenly the voice of the chief warder ordering the convicts to close up broke in upon his thoughts, and looking up he saw that the prison had disappeared—nothing but a white sea of fog lay all around, and even the walls of the field a few yards away were almost invisible! They were only two fields now from the prison, and the gang checked for a moment as the last gate but one was reached.
Rupert was almost the centre of the gang, and he noticed that his own warder, who was just in front, was only just visible in spite of his dark uniform.
As he reached the gate 303 gripped him by the arm, dropped on his knees behind the wall and disappeared. At this moment the chief warder gave the order to halt, and his heart flew into his mouth, for he thought 303's action had been seen. But the sound of some one shouting at the horses, and the chief warder's voice raised in angry question, reassured him.
Without thinking of what he was doing he dropped on his face and crawled rapidly down the side of the wall. At the same moment the order to march was given and the noisy beating of his heart was drowned by the creaking of the waggon as it lumbered past.