” “There’s plenty of time,” said Ramage. " "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. He saw now that it was merely a boy. I must leave England to-night. "Let me have a word with the cull!" "Ay! ay!" cried several of the bystanders, "let Jonathan kimbaw the cove. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen.
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