When the day of christening arrived there was much controversy as to the name it should bear. Charles proposed that it should be named “Charles Warbeck,” but to this proposition the mother-in-law made vehement resistance. It was one of “the Haylarks,” she said, and should be so named; so that to quiet the old lady, and to prevent any more quarrelings, and historical lectures regarding her illustrious relatives, both father and mother agreed it should be named “Charles Edward Worthington Haylark Warbeck.” CHAPTER XXXVI. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND—CAPTAIN JACK’S ADVENTURES. When Phillip Redgill found himself safely locked in his prison cell, deep, dark remorse took possession of his wicked heart. He could not sleep, he could not eat. All he could do was to walk about the stone chamber, and curse everything and everybody. He called the gaoler and spoke to him. “They accuse me of fearful crimes,” said Phillip, faintly attempting to smile; “but mere accusation will not avail much, they must prove all they say.” “There can’t be much difficulty about doing that,” said the old gaoler, “when such men as Colonel Blood and Captain Jack take the affair in hand, for Captain Jack can prove anything if he likes.” “Yes; and perhaps can disprove anything also if he thinks proper, eh?” “I don’t know what you mean,” said the turnkey, with a knowing grin. “Perhaps not,” said Phillip, with a sad smile; “but I dare say you might give a rough guess.” “No one has any right to guess about such things,” said the turnkey, “and, besides, you must know he is our superior officer, and I have no right to speak about what he does.” “Well, you need not fall out with me,” said Phillip; “I have no friends here, but I think I could make one of you.” “How do you mean?” “Would you take a note to the post office for me?” “I dare not.” “Not for a guinea?” “I must not.” “Not for three guineas?” “Don’t tempt me!” “Yes, do; give me pen, ink, and paper, and I will give you ten guineas!” “My life is at stake; I should be implicated as an accomplice.” “Nonsense. Do as I wish, and I will give you twenty guineas.” The turnkey left the cell. But he soon returned. “Let me see the colour of your money,” said he, “and I will deliver your note.” “Agreed,” said Phillip, and as he spoke he drew out of the lining of his coat a twenty guinea note, and gave it to the gaoler. In less than two minutes Phillip wrote a very hurried note, and gave it to the gaoler to post. He had scarcely done so, and the frightened gaoler had barely time to put the pen and ink into his pocket when heavy footsteps were heard approaching. The turnkey turned deadly pale as he whispered to Phillip, “It is Captain Jack, and half drunk as usual.” “Hillo!” said the captain to the gaoler, “what brings you here?” “The prisoner wished me to lend him a bible and prayer book, that’s all.”