



Produced by Al Haines









[Frontispiece: Perspective View of the War Prison near
Tor Royal upon Dartmoor.
Designed for the accommodation of 10,000 Men, with Barracks
for 2000 men a Short distance, but not
represented in the Plate]




  THE
  AMERICAN PRISONER

  BY

  EDEN PHILLPOTTS



  METHUEN & CO.
  36 ESSEX STREET W.C.
  LONDON
  1904




  Out of the land whence the 'Mayflower' sailed,
  To
  Jeannette L. Gilder
  With hearty greeting




  CONTENTS


  BOOK I

  FOX TOR FARM

  CHAPTER

  I. CATER'S BEAM
  II. THE MALHERB AMPHORA
  III. BESIDE EXE
  IV. "THE MARROW OF THE FARM"
  V. DAWN
  VI. MR. PETER NORCOT
  VII. THE WAR PRISON
  VIII. A LITTLE ACCIDENT
  IX. CHILDE'S TOMB
  X. THE FIRSTBORN
  XI. MALHERB'S IDEA


  BOOK II

  THE SEVEN

  I. MR. BLAZEY
  II. A BRACE OF FOWLS
  III. THE GREEN APPLE
  IV. A FRIEND IN NEED
  V. FOLLY
  VI. THE PHILOSOPHY OF MR. NORCOT
  VII. THE SEVEN FAIL
  VIII. JOHN LEE'S FATHER
  IX. GRACE MALHERB HEARS THE NEWS
  X. HANGMAN'S HOLLOW
  XI. FREE
  XII. THE SNOWSTORM
  XIII. A GRAVE IN THE HEATHER
  XIV. THE OLD AND THE NEW
  XV. STARK RIDES AWAY
  XVI. GOOD NEWS


  BOOK III

  UNDER THE EARTH

  I. THE TREASURE HOUSE
  II. RHYME AND REASON
  III. THE OATH
  IV. JOHN TAKES HIS ROAD
  V. STARS AND STRIPES
  VI. UNDER LOCK AND KEY
  VII. THE TUNNEL GROWS
  VIII. HUE AND CRY
  IX. THE FIRST THROUGH THE TUNNEL
  X. A GOD OF GLASS
  XI. APOCALYPSE
  XII. THE VOICE
  XIII. PETER TRIUMPHANT
  XIV. STRATEGY
  XV. THE SALMON IS SPOILED


  BOOK IV

  THE PEACE

  I. HOPE WAKES AND DIES
  II. ON CHRISTMAS DAY
  III. BURNHAM AS LEADER
  IV. OUT OF NIGHT
  V. THE LEOPARD CHANGES HER SPOTS
  VI. THE BURNING OF BLAZEY
  VII. DEATH AT THE GATE
  VIII. BEARDING THE LION
  IX. A SPECIAL LICENSE
  X. EYES IN THE DARK
  XI. FAREWELL, LOVEY LEE
  XII. MANOR WOODS
  XIII. THE PASSING OF JOHN
  XIV. NEWS FROM VERMONT




BOOK I

FOX TOR FARM



THE AMERICAN PRISONER


CHAPTER I

CATER'S BEAM

The huge and solitary but featureless elevation of Cater's
Beam on Dartmoor arrests few eyes.  Seen from the
central waste, one hog-backed ridge swells along the southern
horizon, and its majestic outline, unfretted by tor or forest,
describes the curve of a projectile discharged at gentle elevation.
No detail relieves the solemn bulk of this hill, and upon it ages
have left but little imprint of their passing.  Time rolls over the
mountain like a mist, and the mighty granite arch of the Beam
emerges eternal and unchanged.  Its tough integument of peat
and heath and matted herbage answers only to the call of the
seasons, and it bears grass, bloom, berry, as it bore them for
palæolithic man and his flocks.  Now, like a leopard, the Beam
crouches black-spotted by the swaling fires of spring; now, in
the late autumn time, its substance is coated with tawny foliage,
scarlet-splashed under the low sun; now, dwarfed by snow, the
great hill takes shape of an arctic bear.  With spring the furzes
flame again, and wonderful mosses--purple, gold, and emerald
green--light the marshes or jewel the bank at every rill; and
with summer the ling shines out, the asphodel burns in the
bog, cloud-shadows drop their deep blue mantles upon the
mountain's bosom, and the hot air dances mile on mile.  Beneath
Cater's Beam, and dwarfed thereby, arise the twin turrets of Fox
Tor; while not far distant from these most lonely masses and
pinnacles of granite shall be found the work of men's hands.
Beside the desolate morasses and storm-scarred wastes that here
lie like a cup upon Dartmoor, a stone cross lifts its head, and
ruins of a human habitation moulder back to the dust.

In nettles, stereobate deep, stands Fox Tor Farm, and the
plant--sure and faithful follower of man--is significant upon
this sequestered fastness; for hither it came with those who
toiled to reclaim the region in time past, and no other nettles
shall be found for miles.  Other evidences of human activity
appear around the perishing dwelling-house, where broken walls,
decaying outbuildings, and tracts of cleared land publish their
testimony to a struggle with the Moor.  Great apparent age
marks these remains, and the weathered and shattered entrances,
the lichened drip-stones, the empty joist-holes, point to a
respectable antiquity.  Yet one hundred years ago this habitation did
not exist.  Its entire life--its erection and desertion, its prosperity
and downfall--are crowded within the duration of a century.  In
1800 no stone stood upon another; long ago the brief days
of Fox Tor Farm were numbered, and already for fifty years
it has written human hope, ambition, failure upon the wilderness.

One fragment of wrought granite remains, and the everlasting
nettles beneath shall be found heraldically depicted upon a
shattered doorway.  There, where the ghost of a coat-of-arms
may still be deciphered, Time gnaws at the badge of the
Malherbs: Or, chev. gules inter three nettle-leaves vert.

Upon the summit of Cater's Beam, some ninety years ago, a
member of that ancient and noble clan sat mounted, gazed into
the far-spreading valley beneath him and saw that it was good
and green.  Thereupon he held his quest accomplished, and
determined here to build himself a sure abode, that his cadet
branch of the Malherb race might win foothold on the earth, and
achieve as many generations of prosperity in the future as history
recorded of his ancestors in the past.  Seen a mile distant, sharp
eyes upon that August day had marked a spot creep like a fly
along the crest of Cater's Beam, crawl here and there, sink down
to Fox Tor, and remain stationary upon its stony side for a full
hour.  Observed closely, one had watched a man at the crossroads
of life--a man who struggled to mould his own fate and
weave the skein of his days to his own pattern.  Here he sat on
a great bay horse and pursued the path of his future, as oblivious
to its inevitable changes and chances as he was to a black
cloud-ridge that now lifted dark fringes against the northern sky and
came frowning over the Moor against the course of the wind.

Maurice Malherb was close on fifty, and he had chosen to plough
the earth for his partage in the world's work.  A younger son of
his house, he had turned from the junior's usual portion, and, by
some accident of character, refused a commission and sought the
peaceful occupations of agriculture.  He had already wasted
some portion of his patrimony upon land near Exeter; and
he was seeking new outlet for his energies when arose a wide-spread
ardour for cultivation of Dartmoor.  The age of enterprise
dawned there; "newtake" tenements spr