What the devil is the matter, Dunster?” “I beg your pardon, sir,” the man answered, “there is a lady here to see you. “Sir John is not at all that sort. I'll turn cracksman, like my father—rob old Wood—he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll—I'll—" Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. .
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