“Eight pounds,” she plunged, and added foolishly, “fifteen pounds will see me clear of everything. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. Nobody could possibly find him now. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at liberty to do so. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Mr.
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