" "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. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it. The stranger turned his head at the sound. “Shut up, you little faggot. No sooner had they entered the room than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his stratagem. since the beginning. ‘As for an heir, I have Alderley cousins enough. Neither he nor Gerald chose to attire themselves in full military rig on fashionable occasions such as this.
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