Winifred shrugged her shoulders. She did not like to think a mere gypsy woman had influenced his life to such an extent by a silly trick of palmistry.

"I shall hate all gypsies if you take her advice and go away," she said.

"She gave me no advice. She merely read the lines in my hand, and told me what she saw there."

"And said you would succeed and be rewarded when you returned home?"

"That is so. I shall look forward to the reward," he said.

She glanced at his face, but he was looking across the garden, over the fields beyond, and seemed lost in thought. She knew she would miss him very much. Suppose he never returned; met with a dreadful death in some inhospitable land. The mere thought of such a thing frightened her. She put her hand on his arm, saying quickly, and with a little shudder--

"Do not go, Jack. Stay here; stay in England, where we all love you.

Don't go away."

"Where we all love you."

The words caused his heart to beat with happiness. She had used the word collectively, but it included herself. Noticing her face and her startled look, he said--

"Are you afraid I shall come to grief on my travels?"

"We hear of terrible things in the papers, such horrible things; and, oh, Jack, we have been so much together, I could not bear to lose my old playmate."

There were tears in her eyes, and he felt a desperate inclination to kiss them away. He mastered his feelings and said--

"I am well able to take care of myself, and I will come back, I promise you that. I am very glad you are so anxious about my welfare. I know I have a firm friend in you, Winifred."

She was cross because she had shown too much feeling, and said irritably--

"I am very silly. Of course, you can take care of yourself."

"You are never silly," he said. "I think I understand you, and it will be my greatest regret on leaving here to leave you behind."

"You cannot very well take me with you," she answered smiling.

"I wish I could," he replied.

"Thanks, I prefer The Downs," she answered laughing.

CHAPTER THIRD

_A SCHOOL CHUM_

"Going abroad!" exclaimed Caleb Kenley, "what the deuce has put that into your head?"

"I have been a dire failure here; perhaps elsewhere I shall turn out a success."

"You have not been a failure; there are very few better riders in England than yourself. Do not be offended at my question. Are you short of money? Is that the reason?"

"The princ.i.p.al reason, and a very good one. I have always been short of money."

"Why not ride as a professional jockey? You would find plenty of employment and make a heap of money."

"I should not mind it at all for myself," he replied.

"And who else have you to consider?"

"Some one very dear to me; I cannot tell you who it is."

"I think I can guess," replied the trainer smiling. He had noticed how Jack and Winifred were attached to each other.

"Please do not try, but if you know, keep it to yourself. I must make money--do something--and there is no chance for me here."

"You will not be going for a month or two?" asked Caleb anxiously.

"No, not for two or three months."

"I am glad of that; you'll be able to ride Topsy Turvy again at Lewes, and win on him, I hope."

"Is Sir Lester going to run him again in the Southdown Welter?"

"Yes, and of course, you must ride."

"I shall be delighted," replied Jack. "It will probably be my last mount in the old country, for many a long year."

"What country are you bound for?" asked Caleb.

"I do not know at present."

"I have a brother in Sydney, in New South Wales. He has done well there; he trains horses at Randwich, and I am sure if you met him, that is, if you go to Australia, he would make you welcome. He might be able to give you a wrinkle, put you in the way of making a living. He was always a shrewd sharp fellow; I have not heard from him for some time, but I know he is still there," said Caleb.

"If I decide upon Australia, I shall be only too pleased to meet him."

"His name is Joel, and if you decide to go there, I will write to him about you."

"Thanks," replied Jack, "it is always nice to meet a friend in the midst of strangers."

Jack Redland was often at Lewes, and rode gallops on the downs for the trainer. After their conversation he had a spin on Topsy Turvy, who went remarkably well, and he wondered if he was to win another race on him before he left.

From Lewes he went up to London, and called at several shipping offices.

As he came out of the Orient Line offices and walked along Fenchurch Street, he met an old schoolfellow named Harry Marton, whom he had lost sight of for some years.

Harry Marton had been his particular chum at school, and when he left he entered the stockbrokers' office of Marton and Shrew, his father being the senior partner. He tried to persuade Jack to join him there, but he declined, giving as his reason that he could not bear to be cooped up in the city. After this their ways lay far apart, and they seldom came across each other.

Jack saw his former comrade looked anything but prosperous; in fact, like himself, he was evidently down on his luck. A hearty greeting pa.s.sed between them, and Harry said--