“I will take my chance. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way, At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay; I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowl, And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul! Whatever may hap, I'll taste of the tap, To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap! For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles So well as a draught from the Bowl of St. " "True, and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives. I am so amazed to see you here. Did he act to you that day as if he knew what he was doing?" "Not all of the time.
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