But I will go. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester. Aware that he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till the storm had, in some measure, blown over. But they did what they could for her. And I think I must pursue my acquaintance with the fulsome Madame Valade. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. "I guessed as much. "Bolt the wicket!" shouted Ireton, who, with the others, had been not a little entertained by the gallant turnkey's discomfiture. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford.
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