"She must have been very badly brought up," he remarked, and Norcot stared at his cousin; but his mind was on the matter in hand.
"I shall proceed instantly to Dartmouth," he said. "Tell Mason to saddle my horse and his own. Either from Dartmouth or Tor Quay they will endeavour to leave the country. Mark me, that man Stark has broke prison again. Is Mr. Malherb in communication with Prince Town?"
"Not that I knows about," answered Putt. "Master be like a bull of Bashan—to say it with all respect. He've made Fox Tor Farm shake to its roots. He's lamed two horses a'ready afore I started, an' he's been tearing over the Moor since dawn, like the Wild Hunter. He 'pears to think he's been hardly treated by Providence; an' he's called down fire from Heaven, by all accounts, on pretty near everybody as lives on Dartymoor. A proper tantara, I warn 'e! God knows how 'twill end. He roareth against all things but hisself."
"'Tis a shattering stroke," wept Miss Norcot, "and you are a marvel, Peter, to bear it with such composure."
"Tut, tut! Get you home, you and Relton here. The marriage is postponed. See her home, Relton, and bide my coming. I may not be back for a day or two, but don't return to Exeter until you hear from me."
Then he again addressed Putt.
"Ride back at once and direct your master to set a sharp watch about Holne. They are lying close to-day; but they will doubtless try for the coast at nightfall. First ascertain if Mr. Stark has escaped again from the War Prison; next do all in your power to capture the person of that groom. I've a hundred pounds for the man who takes John Lee and keeps him fast. Now be off; and let them know that I will be at Fox Tor Farm by midnight or later."
His horse was waiting for him, and quite indifferent to the crowd that had assembled round it, Peter mounted, bade the children get out of his way, and galloped off with his man after him. The disappointed bridegroom purposed to inform the authorities and place patrols above Dartmouth, both upon the roads and river.
As for Tom Putt, he rode home; while Miss Norcot and the clergyman returned to Chagford.
At Fox Tor Farm, as the day wore on, wild turmoil reigned, and the flock-master in fury was urging his exhausted labourers to further efforts. Every spot for miles around about was searched; the industrious Mark Bickford even tramped over Cater's Beam and through Hangman's Hollow; but Grace Malherb, securely hidden in Lovey's treasure-house, was beyond reach of discovery. John Lee had laid his plans with care, and knowing that his grandmother would stop at Prince Town until the completion of the tunnel and the liberation of the Americans, he selected her secret hiding-place for Grace. Here, until Lovey's next visit, she was safe; but the miser would soon herself be flying hither with her reward; and before that moment Grace must be gone.