But it is not your name. "And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been otherwise damaged in the fray—ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob. "Take me, then," replied the widow. “Come with me. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from the gallows. The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room.
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