” She said. And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my hopes, and blast my fame? Never!" And, with these words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. "You may," replied Jack: "I'll fight for you to the last gasp.
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