"My lips would belie my heart were I to refuse you. After that time, I shall place my setters on your heels. "I need not remind you, Sir Rowland, that I am aware you are deeply implicated in the Jacobite plot which is now known to be hatching. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. The wretch you confide in has sworn to hang you. But I will never—never return. "Who's there?—Pshaw! it's only the wind. Her mouth was an effective tourniquet. "Enough!" rejoined Wild; "he shall not return.
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