"A storm!" exclaimed the landlord. "My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. Maggot, as well as her companion Edgeworth Bess, was showily dressed; nor did either of them disdain the aid supposed to be lent to a fair skin by the contents of the patchbox. “Mid-thirties.
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