’ ‘I suppose you want to take her along as well as that infernal stolen horse?’ said Hilary sarcastically. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. He could not see these two shrinking misses capering about in a nun’s habit and brandishing a defiant pistol. “What you have done. Darrell. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under his arm, and planted himself near the stone. “It is hard to express one’s self, but I do want to be honest with you.
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