"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. ‘Well, water under the bridge is that, miss. “How well and jolly you must be feeling. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. “But—your people!” she gasped. But you must leave us now, dear Winny, Jack and I have something to settle between ourselves. Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us. Pistols and pictures? Now it fair goes agin’ me nature to act rough with a lady, but you’ll come along of me at once. " "That reminds me he's still at large," returned Ireton. " "Loves!" echoed Winifred, slightly colouring. ‘Soldier of fortune.
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