" "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. Ennison kicked it away with his foot. . " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. ‘Oh, you may come to me on any mission you like,’ uttered Mrs Sindlesham roguishly.
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