We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames Darrell is forgotten—ha! ha! A third of your estate I accept. The ring's yours, and you're mine. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded. You knew me in Paris. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. Smith, he'll swing after next Old Bailey sessions.
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