He looked at the hand. "If she ain't stickin' out her duke to me, right
through the bars. Blamed if she ain't! Looks like a lily! A bally white
lily!" he repeated wonderingly. "One of them kind we wonst run acrost
when the Cap. turned us adrift on an island, jest to waller in green
grass!"

"Don't you want it?" said the child.

He extended a great, coarse hand hesitatingly, as if half-minded to and
half-minded not to touch the white finger-tips.

"You ain't afraid?"

The golden head shook ever so slightly; again the big hand went toward
the small one, then suddenly dropped.

"Right this way m'lord--m'lady!" The face of the convict abruptly
changed; fury, hatred, a blind instinct to kill were unmistakably
revealed in his countenance as he heard the bland voice of the police
agent. From the child's hand the gold disk fell and rolled under the
wooden slab that served as a couch in the cell.

"Jocelyn!" The expostulating tones of the governor's wife preceded the
approach of the party. "What are you doing, child, so near the bars?"

"Good heavens!" Mr. Gillett seized the girl's arm and abruptly drew her
away. "My dear little lady!" he said. "Really you don't know the danger
you run. And near that cell of all of them!"