Proceeding along the wall, Jack reached the southern tower, over the battlements of which he clambered, and crossing it, dropped upon the roof of the gate. Sir Rowland waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew. The honey on his tongue turned to ashes. He was now within a foot of the bar, and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked his way to it. " "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. Trenchard glanced at the document.
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