By this time, the door was unlocked, and drawing his sword, Quilt entered the cell. "Where did I hear that before?" "Perhaps that first day, in the water-clock tower. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost composure; "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject of King George. I knew it.
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