" "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt. ’ Then she whisked from the room, hearing Lucilla utter a delighted squeal as she closed the door behind her. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. Mind, I, Baptist Kettleby, say so. While the strife raged between the principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were occupied in stemming the force of the torrent, and endeavouring to keep the boats, they had lashed together, stationary. All the turnkeys were assembled. Her safety lay in pretense—that what she saw was as a tale twice told.
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