Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. “The women are taking it up,” said Miss Miniver; “the women and the common people, all pressing forward, all roused. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. The rear of the party was brought up by a large, powerfully-built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and stamped with that surly, sturdy, bull-dog-like look, which an Englishman always delights to contemplate, because he conceives it to be characteristic of his countrymen. ToC Sir Rowland, meantime, paced his chamber with a quick and agitated step. ” “Where?” Courtlaw asked quickly. You won't have him long.
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