" "Two can play at that game, my blood," replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. Ramage!” she cried, and struggled to her feet. At length, however, by dealing blows right and left with their swords, and even inflicting severe cuts on the foremost of the rabble, the soldiers managed to gain a clear course, and to drive back the assailants; who, as they retreated behind the barricades, shouted in tones of defiance, "To Tyburn! to Tyburn!" The object of all this tumult, meanwhile, never altered his position, but sat back in the cart, as if resolved not to make even a struggle to regain his liberty. “Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. I don’t play anything.
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