‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know. ‘Alcide’ or no ‘Alcide,’ there is not a music hall manager in London or Paris who would not give you an engagement on your own merits. 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. "But you've done well to trust me. He remained standing by the stem of the proa, his glance roving investigatingly. “Thanks to you. She counted three on the way to the train and four more on the crowded car that would have gladly taken him to bed with not so much as a word.
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