d Daisy, giving a quick, low laugh, and then she
grew thoughtful again.

"But if they _had_ seen it, Daisy?"

"Well."

"You would have been implicated in this unhappy affair to your certain
ruin, without benefiting me. You must leave the necklace here."

"But I won't!"

This time the pretty little foot was set firmly on the flagging.

The jailor, who had been an attentive listener to the foregoing
conversation, thrust his hands into the capacious pockets of his overcoat
with the bearing of a man who is completely satisfied.

"I knowed it," he said, emphatically; "the boy is misfortunate somehow, and
the young girl's a trump--_she_ is. Lord help 'em! But time's up, and I
must stop their talk."

With this the man tapped on the door. Mortimer held Daisy in his arms for a
moment, and then sat down on the bed.

Daisy was gone, and it seemed as if the sunlight had gone with her, the
cell grew so gloomy to the prisoner.

"Young man," said the jailor, with a solemn look, "the young lady is very
unprudent to go circumventing round with that necklace twisted up on the
top ov her skull--_she_ is."

Mortimer groaned.

"You heard all, then, and you will betray us!"

"Part ov what you say _is_ true," returned the man, bluntly, "and part
isn't. I heard yer talk, but my name _isn't_ Joe Wilkes ef I blow on yer!"

Mortimer looked at the ruddy, honest face of Joe Wilkes, and gave him his
hand.

"I believe you, my good man."

That individual appeared to be turning something over in his mind which
refused to be turned over.

"Them keys, young man," he said at length, drawing forth from his pocket a
bunch weighing some four pounds, "opens the door at the end ov the passage,
and this one opens the street gate; now jist take that bit ov wood and bang
me on one side ov my hed--not savagely, you know, but jist enough to
flatten me, and make me look stunned--like----"

At this novel proposition Mortimer broke into a loud laugh, but Mr. Wilkes
was in earnest, and insisted on being "flattened."

"I couldn't think of it, Mr. Wilkes!" cried Mortimer, weak with laughter;
"I couldn't strike you systematically; I should be certain to demolish your
head."

And Mr. Wilkes retired, perforce, with the air of an injured man.

Mortimer sat on the edge of the bed reflecting on the strange chain of
circumstances which had placed him in his present position, and boldly
facing the fact of how little chance he had of escaping Mr. Flint'