And so, the invasion really is to take place after all; and the Chevalier de Saint George is to land at the Tower with fifty thousand Frenchmen; and the Hanoverian usurper's to be beheaded; and Doctor Sacheverel's to be made a bishop, and we're all to be—eh?" "All in good time," returned Kneebone, putting his finger to his lips; "don't let your imagination run away with you, my charmer. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order.
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