" "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. " "First, let me introduce my friends," returned Jack, stepping to the door. Families had seen their lands seized, their chateaux ransacked or burned, and those unlucky enough to have failed to anticipate disaster, had been murdered or dragged away to gaol. Sir Rowland is one of us," he added, winking at his companions, "and so was his brother-in-law, Sir Cecil Trafford. Certainly I would not murder monsieur le major, even that he has made a threat to beat me. “I didn’t understand, Vee. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre.
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