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ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. Her efforts were vain. "You are arrested for high treason," rejoined Wild, presenting a pistol at his head, while he drew forth a parchment,—"here is my warrant. "Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. She is my only family. The true creative mind is always returning to battle; defeats are only temporary setbacks. I'd like to shake you until your bones rattled; but the bones of a Roundhead wouldn't rattle to any purpose. He speaks English.
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