No trouble will ever come to your sister through me. " "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner—ough! ough;—the Markis o' Slaughterford ——" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. ’ Roding gave a bark of derisive laughter and left the room. Rhea laughed and lunged for the broadsword that Sebastian had carelessly left lying on the ground.
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