" "Take hence this boy, then," rejoined Trenchard; "his looks unman me. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. " "Anything else, Sir?" "No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons. "He will be murdered!—Help!" "My child!—my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back. This left Spurlock alone. E. He did not pocket it, but sat hefting it lightly from hand to hand, watching the girl thoughtfully.
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