"Stark could give 'em the slip for that matter," said Leverett. "Scores of Yankees as can speak the lingo have given up the names of Frenchmen and gone out. I'd hev done it myself if I could parley-voo."
"Yes," admitted Burnham. "He's a good scholar. He could go to-morrow; but if he did he would be a coward and a knave. He knows that it is his duty to stop and see this thing through."
"'Duty'! Well, I haven't got much more use for duty myself," replied the other. "Life's short, and there's nobody on earth or in heaven cares for me but David Leverett."
"Stark happens to have bigger ideas than you," answered Burnham coldly.
"'Tis easy for the rich ter hev big ideas; but they ain't no good to the likes of you and me."
William Burnham resented these sentiments and turned on his heel; while Leverett addressed Mr. Cuffee, who passed at the moment, and, in default of a better listener, grumbled to him.
"Devil take the hot-heads; and Devil take the hindermost! 'Tis every man for himself in this world, so far as I've seen. And when all's done, and we're free--what? How's five thousand unarmed men ter get ter Tor Quay and take ship ter France? We want a fleet o' vessels! They'll send the sojers after us, and they'll lick up and overtake us and cut us ter ribbons--that's what they'll do. 'Twould be truest kindness ter stop the whole thing."
"Marse Stark he lead de way. He wiser den us."
"You think so--and the rest likewise. But I say this snarl is beyond his powers ter loose, and we're going the wrong way about it."
"I duz then. He ought ter know, if he's so tarnation wise, that it can't fall out right."
"If you fink Marse Stark ebber make a mistake in him life, you no fren' ob mine no more," he said.
Elsewhere the subject of these criticisms was fighting with mingled interests, and found himself torn in half between the prisoner at Fox Tor Farm and the prisoners at Prince Town. Escape was now easy enough for any intelligent man; and with each draft of French prisoners many Americans had got clear off by giving up the names of the dead; but in Stark's opinion, the fortunes of the plot were his fortunes. Daily the difficulties increased, and as larger numbers of prisoners became familiar with the secret, the chances of treachery grew. A week or less must see the tunnel bored; but meantime the temptation to desert his post was terrible. Through John Lee, Stark had learned of the catastrophe at Fox Tor Farm, and now understood that secret means were afoot greatly to hasten Grace's marriage with Peter Norcot. The American also knew clearly that, while a prisoner in body, Grace Malherb was free in heart, and that she loved him. His soul longed with a frantic desire to reach her side and save her. By night he dreamed wild dreams of rescue; in sleep he saw himself conveying his love to France, wedding her there, and returning to England again that he might face her father's fury; but with day his obligations to his countrymen banished this picture. To desert the cause now was impossible, for his escape would awake sleeping authority and unsettle those he left behind him. Every hour new problems had to be met and solved. Rumours of disaffection reached him often. In this predicament he did not trust himself to think of what he might do, had it not been for the presence of John Lee. The vital matter of Grace's escape rested with John, and even now, as Stark tramped the prison yard, he scanned the grille, impatient to see his friend. For upon the preceding night Grace had been rescued from her home and now hid in Lee's safe keeping until Stark himself was free.