Chapter XX ANNA’S SURRENDER “This is indeed a gala night,” said Ennison, raising his glass, and watching for a moment the golden bubbles. There was all the knavery, and more than all the drollery of a Spanish picaroon in the laughing eyes of the English apprentice; and, with a little more warmth and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the resemblance between them would have been complete. It was a different world. Well, I was all for dragging in Bow Street there and then, and getting the pair of those fraudsters thrown in gaol. ‘Jacques, do not die while I am gone. " "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton. Fortescue?” “At your service. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis.
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