" "When you please, Sir," said Thames, coldly. His hair is oddly streaked with gray —I might say a dishonourable gray. " "Will there be any danger?" "To Mr. Squire and master. Hence!" "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, "listen to me. And if you dare to produce any kind of weapon at all,’ he added, taking a plain brass-barrelled little pistol from his own pocket and levelling it, ‘I will have no compunction in blowing off your head, you madcap female.
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