"Don't ask me about it now. They were both dressed in every respect alike. " "I dare say no such thing," interposed his better half, authoritatively; "remain where you are, Sir. Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom and himself some secret understanding seemed to subsist, and then closed and barred the door. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. \"Look at how fair he is! The Lord has blessed Isobella with a fine son. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. ‘You are outrageous.
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