"I've only got you now," he said. "I'm not a talker, and it is a vile thing to see a man of quality show his feelings; but between father and daughter affection is natural, and may even be declared in reason. You're the apple of my eye."
"How well I know it!"
She kissed him and, occupied with his Idea, he took her hand. Thus they walked along until Mrs. Malherb appeared on her homeward way from Tor Royal. She sat behind Richard Beer on a pillion, for she was fearful of horses, and never rode alone.
Annabel described an émeute at the War Prison.
"It seems," she said, "that the poor Americans are the chief danger there. They were sent up from the hulks at Plymouth, because they were always escaping from them; and now more than one has got clean away in a disturbance. They think that these Desperate men will presently be recaptured, or else lose their lives in the lonely desert wastes towards Cranmere Pool. They may, however, by good fortune get into touch with their fellow-countrymen on parole at Ashburton or Tavistock, and so make to the coast and escape to France from Dartmouth or Tor Quay."
"If I should meet a runaway!" cried Grace.
"You would ride him down, I should hope, unless he yielded and followed you," said her father.
Mrs. Malherb nearly dropped Richard's pillion-belt and fell to the ground.
"La! what sport for a young maid!" she cried.
That night after they had gone to rest, the master placed his great inspiration before Annabel, and her eyes grew round in the darkness. The blind was up, for Malherb allowed the daylight to waken him, and the seasons regulated the hour of his rising. Now Mrs. Malherb watched a star cross the eastern-facing casement; but only her eyes perceived that distant sun, for her mind was occupied with a closer matter.