’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. ‘How did you get in? The house is all locked up. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. Ah, if I had written that!" "Don't you want to live?" "I don't know; I really don't know.
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