Enfeebled by his wound, Wild had lost much of his strength, though nothing of his ferocity and energy,—and fiercely assailing Blueskin, he made a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to apprehend him. Accordingly, he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened towards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find, consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other guardians of the night. The last observation, however, caught the attention of the carpenter's wife. "What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard. "I see you don't know him as well as you pretend. If she mentioned Ramage he might have a fit—anything might happen. How she had hated it!… All these mumblings which were never explained, which carried no more sense to her brain than they would have carried to Old Morgan's swearing parrot. ‘I should not dream of forcing my attentions on you. She breathed deeply, and he breathed sympathetically. Figg?" said Jack, peevishly. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them. Has your ladyship any further commands?" "None whatever. "You have behaved like a man of honour, Sir Rowland," said Wild, after he had twice told over the money. Perhaps Sir John is going to take the other one under his wing.
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