"_Are_ we?" said the child. "The man _I_ marry must be very big and
strong, and must _not_ have light hair."

Lord Ronsdale laughed tolerantly.

"Plenty of time for you to change your mind, don't you know. Meanwhile,
I'll not despair. Faint heart, and so on. But," turning to Sir Charles,
"where is it she 'wants to go?'"

"To see the convicts."

"Convicts? Ah!" He spoke rather more quickly than usual, with accent
sharper.

"You didn't know who your neighbors were going to be when you decided so
suddenly to accompany us?"

"No." His voice had a metallic sound.

Sir Charles addressed Mr. Gillett. "Tell us something more definite
about your charges whom we are going to inspect. Meant to have found out
earlier in the voyage, but been so jolly seasick, what with one gale
after another, I for one, until now, haven't much cared whether we had
Claude Duval and Dick Turpin themselves for neighbors, or whether we all
went straight to Davy Jones' locker together. A bad lot, you have
already informed us! But how bad?"

"Well, we haven't exactly M. Duval or Mr. Turpin in the pen, but we've
one or two others almost as celebrated in their way. There's Billy
Burke, as desperate a cracksman as the country can produce, with,"
complacently, "a record second to none in his class. He"--and Mr.
Gillett, with considerable zest entered into the details of Mr. Burke's
eventful and rapacious career. "Then there's the ''Frisco Pet,' or the
'Pride of Golden Gate,' as some of the sporting papers call him."

"The 'Frisco Pet!" Lord Ronsdale started; his color slightly changed;
his lashes drooped over his cold eyes. "He is on board this vessel?"

"Yes; you remember him, my Lord, I dare say?"

"In common with many others," shortly.

"Many of the gentry and titled classes did honor him with their
attention, I believe."

"Why," asked Jocelyn, whose blue eyes were fastened very intently on the
face of the police agent, "did they call him such a funny name, the
'Frisco Pet?"

"Because he's a yankee bruiser, prize-fighter, or was, before the drink
got him," explained Mr. Gillett. "And originally, I believe, he hailed
from the land of the free. Some one brought him to London, found out
about his 'talents' and put him in training. He was a low, ignorant
sailor; could scarcely write his own name; but he had biceps and a thick
head. Didn't know when he was whipped. I can see him yet, as he used to
look, with his giant shoulders and his swagge