"Then, by Heaven! you are a dead man!" replied Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at his head. "This gash," he added, pointing to one of the larger scars, "was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland, whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. ‘Would that your mistress were as trusting. As though accidentally she swept her skirts from a chair close drawn to her own. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. . I'll dig it up. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done.
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