"Thank you; if I wish to go out again I will take your boat."

"Very good, my lady, always at your service," said Brack; adding to himself, "I'd like to find out who she is, and why she's so mighty interested in it all."

CHAPTER XIII

A WOMAN'S FEAR

Lenise Elroy was troubled; she felt uneasy, afraid of something, she hardly knew what; she had a presentiment that a calamity hung over her, that much trouble was in store.

Fletcher Denyer was irritated. She was not at all like the gay woman of a few days back; what ailed her? He questioned her, received no satisfactory reply.

"I want to go to town," he said.

"I don't; I like being here."

"But I must return to London, I have a lot of business to see to."

She smiled; when he talked about business it amused her.

He noticed it and said angrily: "You never think I do anything in the way of business."

"I judge by results," she answered.

"And I don't show any, is that it?"

She nodded.

"Look here, Len, we've been together for a couple of years and been good friends; we don't want to quarrel now."

"I'm sure I've no wish to do so."

"There's a good deal more in me than you imagine. Why didn't you speculate in those Mexican shares I told you about? You'd have made a pile."

"I should; you were right in that instance. It has always struck me you know a good deal about Mexico."

"Perhaps I do; it's a great country, I'm told."

"I suppose you have not been there?" she said.

"If I had, I should probably be better off."

"If you must go to London, go. I'll follow in a few days," she said.

"You seem to have suddenly taken an interest in the place."

"I have, I like it. It is my first visit. I think it beautiful," she said.

He wondered why she wished to remain, but did not question her further. In the afternoon he went to London. She was glad to be alone; she wanted to be quiet and think. Supposing Hector Woodridge had escaped from Dartmoor, and was not dead, what would happen? What would he do to her? She trembled, felt faint; there was no telling to what lengths such a man infuriated at the cruelty and misery he had suffered, might go. She must find out more about it. The man to see was Carl Hackler, but how to approach him?

She meant to converse with him at any cost, and went out with that intention.

Carl had nothing to do but idle time away; he was quite certain the prisoner had either got clear off, or was lying dead on the moor. He saw Mrs. Elroy coming toward him, and recognized her as the lady Brack had taken out in his boat. She evidently intended speaking to him.

"You are Mr. Hackler, I believe?" she asked.

"I am; at your service."

"The boatman told me who you were. You come from the prison at Dartmoor?"

"I do."

"A man has escaped, I want to know more about it. The boatman gave me to understand he was tried for murder in Yorkshire some years ago. If this is the man who escaped I know him, I know the family," she said.

"What name?" asked Hackler.

"Woodridge. Hector Woodridge," she said.

"I believe it's the same man," said Hackler, interested.

"Will he be caught?"

"If he's alive he's sure to be taken."

"But you think it probable he is dead?" she questioned.

"I think it quite possible."

"Are you here on the lookout for him?"

"Yes."

"Surely he would not be likely to come to Torquay."

"I don't know so much about that. You see he might be able to get away by sea if he had friends, or some one willing to help him," said Hackler.

"Who would help him? The risk would be too great."

"There's many men take risks for each other. You seem interested in him."

"I am. I know him, a dangerous man, I should not care to meet him again," she said.

"He had not that reputation at Dartmoor. He was quiet and inoffensive, about the last man we'd have thought would try to escape," he said.

"And you have no doubt he is Hector Woodridge?"