CHAPTER I. ’ He nodded. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. 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. The whole neighbourhood was disturbed. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above.
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