"Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. ’ She gestured at his hand, on which Roding’s makeshift bandage had been replaced by a more efficient one. "Begone! or I fire!" he cried. While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions. Her cheeks were aflame. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. ’ ‘Of course she could not have known to whom they belonged.
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