“I supposed that he took off his hat to you. Certainly I never met him. ‘Poor things. There was a great splash of blood upon it, her hand was all wet and sticky. He was detained. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. But stand by and hear such things said about my late mistress’s daughter, I won’t. Again he rushed. And when they came to the gallows, Jack leaped out of the cart, and the hangman tied up Jonathan instead—ha! ha! How the mob shouted and huzzaed—and I shouted too—ha! ha! ha!" "Mother!" cried Jack, unable to endure this agonizing scene longer. "I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered Wood; "and, though he must be much changed by this time, I dare say I should know him again. "Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster. Skirting the noble gardens of Montague House, (now, we need scarcely say, the British Museum,) the party speedily reached Great Russell Street,—a quarter described by Strype, in his edition of old Stow's famous Survey, "as being graced with the best buildings in all Bloomsbury, and the best inhabited by the nobility and gentry, especially the north side, as having gardens behind the houses, and the prospect of the pleasant fields up to Hampstead and Highgate; insomuch that this place, by physicians, is esteemed the most healthful of any in London. 2.
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