" "I say, Kneebone," rejoined Blueskin, as he washed down an immense mouthful with another bumper, "do you recollect how nearly Mr. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. ’ ‘You speak it very well,’ Gerald said encouragingly. The rest were hieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk and charcoal. " "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.
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