"Aye, seen him and been his prisoner; and say who will to the contrary, I have reason to maintain that he is a true gentleman."
"Is it so?" said Mr. Johnstone, smiling. "A cut-throat, a robber, a highwayman, a true gentleman?"
Betty gave him an indignant glance. "I speak of him as I found him," she said. "And we of the country have always known how to distinguish between common malefactors and the gentlemen of the road."
"So, so!" answered Johnstone, still smiling. "And yet both end too often on Tyburn Hill."
Betty turned pale and shivered. It seemed as if she gasped for breath; she turned her large eyes on her lover and said, "Ah, these matters are far too serious for so grim a jest."
But her eyes were caught and arrested by the look which met them; so long, so burning with passionate admiration and love, with a strange expression of exaltation, almost gratitude. Betty's heart beat fast. He had forced her to love him, and such maidens as Betty Ives when they give love at last, give life itself. Dame Rachel glanced from one to another, then she rose quickly, and from a dark corner of the room produced a pack of cards. "Come, fair lady and noble gentleman," she said, with a touch of the professional whine in her voice. "Will you hear your fortunes? Cross the old gipsy's hand with silver, my pretty dears, and you shall hear all the good things past, present, and future, that may fall to your lot."
"Will you try?" said John Johnstone, bending forward.
The rosy colour rushed into Betty's cheek, the light shone in her eyes.
"I will try," she said, half laughing.
"Then all that is good we will believe, and all that is bad will cast to the winds as false and untrue."