I was rude and stupid. ’ The sharp eyes twinkled. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. Wood, in indignant surprise. On the other a wretched engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the house was not altogether free from some tincture of Jacobitism. He was in great pain and it meant that he would be in casts for twelve weeks.
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