Upon the pavement near the court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a pistol. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. The response of her body was enough that she lazily opened her eyes. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. "You hear," pursued Jonathan; "my friend desires to know if you are willing to pay your footing as a member of the ancient and respectable fraternity of debtors?" "I owe no man a farthing, and my name shall never appear in any such rascally list," replied Wood angrily. He could not know about the Remenham connection, could he? No one knew but her father and Martha.
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