“I believe that he would bore me. You know not what a wretched guilty thing I am. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. Couldn’t face me with what he’d done, the miserable blackguard. ‘Tell me what you know of Miss Charvill?’ he ordered severely. These bloods will pay well for his capture; if not, he'll pay well to get out of their hands; so I'm safe either way—ha! ha! Blueskin," he added aloud, and motioning that worthy, "follow me. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes.
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