" "Mr. "Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. "You'll not be offended, I hope," returned Wood, drily, "if I say that your voice, your manner, and, above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing, put me strangely in mind of one of the 'droll dogs,' (as you term them,) who helped to perpetrate the outrage I've just described. He wants you so, he is still a virgin. "If there is any honour in you, stop and think. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr.
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