I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. There was a little murmur of consternation from the waiting crowd, and the florid young woman showed signs of temper, to which Mr. " "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. There's a man dying—Captain Darrell.
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