"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. But at least it gave her more time. He had an air of having told her a deep, personal secret. “I know nothing whatever of his friends or his home. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. " "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. "Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" roared Blueskin. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. Sheppard," said Wood in a soothing tone. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance.
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