Ireton; for may I be hanged myself if I don't believe he'll be as good as his word. " "Zounds!" exclaimed Quilt, "did you kill him?" "Not quite," replied Terence, laughing; "but I brought him to his senses. It was dusty, with dirty clothing strewn about, a cracked basin thick with grime on the rickety dresser, and a film of grease on the leaded casement. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. Spurling, hastening to the rescue.
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