Mr. Barnes had a fixed mask-like countenance, his bushy eyebrows almost met in a wrinkle that told of thought and deep calculation. He was clean-shaven, and his chin was swathed in a huge neckcloth of white muslin; he wore his hat low on his brow. "I like not to be out so late on the high road," said he very suddenly, so that both Mr. Ives and Mistress Mary Jones started, and Betty, whom nothing ever startled, turned her great blue eyes inquiringly on him. "Why, sir?" she asked. "Why, my good young lady, because the Newbury sales are just over, and it is well known that the stock reared on Belford home farm has sold well" "Are the roads not safe then, sir?" asked Mr. Ives rather anxiously. "I do not quite say that, for it is many a long day since the coach was attacked between Newbury and Wancote; but rumour has been busy." "Ha!" cried Betty, sitting upright eagerly. "It is said that Wild Jack Barnstaple has been heard of in the neighbourhood." "Heaven help us!" shrieked Mary Jones. "Be calm, I entreat you, my dear madam, and have pity on my unfortunate toes! Zounds! it is torture enough to be subject to periodical gout, without such an infliction as the stamp of a lady's fashionable heel on the tender place." "But you say Wild Jack is in the neighbourhood! Oh Heaven! what will become of us!" Betty's blooming cheek had turned just a faint shade paler, but the rosy colour came rushing back, her eyes flashed. Suddenly stooping forward she said in a low voice: "Mr. Barnes, you may confide in me. Do you carry much money?" He answered in a tone of assumed ease, "Paper to the value of nearly a thousand pounds." "Then look you, Mr. Barnes," said Betty in her natural voice, "I have a proposal to make to you. Give the valuables you have to us--to Miss Mary Jones and to myself. Wild Jack, all say, is a gentleman--should he, by any unfortunate chance, be on the road to-night, he will not rob women. Your money will be safe." "No, no, no, no!" cried Mary. "Betty, how can you propose anything so impossible, so unfeminine! Are not men our natural protectors?" and she threw a languishing glance at the cattle-breeder. "Shall we usurp their rights?" "It is quite true; it is impossible," said Barnes. "You are foolish to throw away the chance," said Betty calmly. "I cannot see why you should not accept her offer," said the parson restlessly; he was accustomed to yield to his daughter's judgment in everything. "Betty is a bold girl, and she is generally in the right." "Come, yield the point, Mr. Barnes," said Betty, with a light laugh, holding out her hand for the pocket-book. "Remember I have no part or parcel in it," cried Mary, shrinking farther and farther away. "I would not for the whole world! Why, Betty," she whimpered, "they might even search you."