“I have spoken too many truths to-night. Wood and Thames taking their places on either side of it, and Jack at a little distance behind. ’ ‘What sort of “down on your luck”?’ asked Alderley. " "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. Mrs. Martin’s crush.
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