Ireton and his friends to taste it. His suspicions at first fell upon you. " "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. " "You have forgotten that you are in my power," returned the knight, sternly; "and that all your allies cannot save you from my resentment. You have grown into my life, and I cannot tear you out. ‘That little kiss cost him his sanctuary, my girl, and don’t you forget it.
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