"I don't know what his idea was. I know life. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. "Arrest!" vociferated Wood. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. “None, I thank you,” he answered. Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into a heavy slumber. So, by way of gaining time, he resolved to question him further. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. A ball from Wild's pistol passed through his heart, and a volley of musketry poured from the guards lodged several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader.
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