. But there's a person in the hall—a very odd sort of man—waiting to see him, who won't be sent away. A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. I require stimulant. "Let the gentleman take his own course," said Jonathan, mildly. Dear me, what a nuisance it is to have a pseudo husband shot down upon one from the skies. They tracked the fugitive to the Mint; but, like hounds at fault, they here lost all scent of their prey. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. But he promised to give me a couple of guineas if I'd ascertain whether it fitted your locks.
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