The tears rose to Betty's eyes.
"God grant him a safe escape to France," she said earnestly.
"It is a good and a charitable wish, sweetheart," said John somewhat gloomily. "But men who have lived as Wild Jack has lived, dread, exile as much as death."
"Surely," said Betty, "that depends upon whether he is utterly friendless, or has any who love him."
"Wild Jack is not utterly friendless," he answered with a grave sweet smile.
"And this also is one of the mysteries," said Betty gaily. "Do not forget your promise, that some day you will tell me all the past history of your life, and also, above all, the story of your acquaintance with the most famous gentleman of the road."
"Aye, some day," he said, closing the door of Seagull's home, and placing the key in his pocket.
As they turned away he said suddenly: "Say nothing about my treasure in there, dear Bet, I beg of you, neither to your father nor to Mistress Mary."
Betty looked up at him somewhat surprised.
"Oh, it is for a trifling reason," he said—"a mere wager."