ToC Monday, the 31st of August 1724,—a day long afterwards remembered by the officers of Newgate,—was distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the Lodge. Deuce take it! I was very near spelling my name with one P. What was the matter with the dress? She could not see. “I have had adventures—oh, more than one, I can assure you. Accompanied by Sir Cecil, who still continued passionately enamoured of his sister, and to whom he represented that she had fallen a victim to the arts of a seducer, he set off, at fiery speed, for the metropolis. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,—would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,—and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father. It melted her heart. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened.
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