Hadn’t the stomach to admit the truth, had he? I’ll lay any money he labelled you with some foul French name as well. Sebastian crouched on the floor with a single dead victim, a young highwayman. "Yes, Auntie! And to date you have cost me precisely sixteen thousand dollars— hard earned, every one of them. 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. Gianfrancesco became agitated. You shall know the truth.
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