"And Master Hamilton helped them?" asked Frances, hoping to keep the
glorious narrative going.
"Yes, he did the work of half a score of men," said Betty. "In the
disguise of a Quaker, he solicited money with which to buy medicine and
to employ physicians, and did everything in his power to comfort the poor
sufferers. Doctor Lilly, the astrologer, helped us. People say he is a
cheat, but I wish we had more of his kind among us."
"And you helped him?" asked Frances.
"Yes, a little," said Betty, modestly. "But my father helped him a great
deal with money and food."
"Master Hamilton is in danger of his life," said Frances, "and I would
save him. Will you help me to find him?"
After a long pause, Betty asked: "But how shall I know that you mean fair
by him? I'll see him if I can, and when you return, I'll tell you where
to find him if he consents."
"So you do know where he is?" asked Frances, eagerly.
Betty did not reply, so Frances continued: "I do mean him fair, Betty. I
am risking everything--my good name, perhaps even life itself, in seeking
him. I expected to have to prove my good intent, so I brought with me
this letter which no one save myself has ever seen, nor any one other
than you shall ever see. Read it, Betty. It is one Master Hamilton sent
to me from France."
Betty hesitated, but as Frances insisted, she read the letter and
returned it, saying:--
"You are his sweetheart?"
"Yes, yes, Betty, in all that is best and most terrible in the meaning of
the word.
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