CHAPTER XXI. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. But he did not find the sword of monsieur le major, for this sergeant would have recognised it and told me that I am arrested again. And he unsheathed his sword. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. The major will not call. Maggot, bursting into a loud contemptuous laugh. "Get in wid ye, ye villin!" And, despite his resistance, Shotbolt was thrust into the chair, which was instantly fastened upon him. As it was, the mob went on alternately hooting and huzzaing as the names of Wild and Sheppard were pronounced, while some individuals, bolder than the rest, thrust their faces into the coach-window, and assured Jack that he should never be taken to Tyburn. You come to England, and hide in a secret convent in London. If you assume the character of a debtor for your own convenience, you must be content to maintain it for ours.
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