" "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. "So, the Mohocks have been at work, I perceive," remarked Quilt, as he drew near the group. " "Then you are taking me on?" Spurlock's eyes grew soft like those of a dog that, expecting the whip, saw only the kindly hand. “Do you know,” she confessed, “I never thought of that?” He looked at her as though doubting even now whether she could possibly be in earnest. It was astonishing how seldom it was that his instincts betrayed him. She felt she must suffocate if these men did not put her down, and for a time they would not put her down. " "As you please," returned Jack, leaping up; "but I feel devilishly inclined to finish him.
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