He's as generous as he's frolicsome." As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold.
"There's Sharples," cried Quilt.
"Whist!" exclaimed Terence; "he elevates his glim.

By Jasus! he's about to spake to us." "Gem'men o' the votch!" cried Sharples, as loudly as a wheezy cough would permit him, "my noble pris'ner--ough! ough;--the Markis o' Slaughterford----" Further speech was cut short by a volley of execrations from the angry guardians of the night.
"No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob.
"Hear! hear!" vociferated Quilt.
"His lordship desires me to say--ough! ough!" Fresh groans and hisses.
"Von't you hear me ?--ough! ough!" demanded Sharples, after a pause.
"By all means," rejoined Quilt.
"Raise your vice, and lave off coughin'," added Terence.
"The long and the short o' the matter's this then," returned Sharples with dignity, "the Markis begs your acceptance o' ten guineas to drink his health." The hooting was instantaneously changed to cheers.
"And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, "that he'll be responsible for the doctors' bill of all such gem'men as have received broken pates, or been other_wise_ damaged in the fray--ough! ough!" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob.
"We're all damaged--we've all got broken pates," cried a dozen voices.
"Ay, good luck to him! so we have," rejoined Terence; "but we've no objection to take out the dochter's bill in drink." "None whatever," replied the mob.
"Your answer, gem'men ?" demanded Sharples.
"Long life to the Markis, and we accept his honourable proposal," responded the mob.
"Long life to the Marquis!" reiterated Terence; "he's an honour to ould Ireland!" "Didn't I tell you how it would be ?" remarked Quilt.
"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman; "but I couldn't belave it.

In futur', I'll keep the 'Evenin' Star' for his lordship's enemies." "You'd better," replied Quilt.

"But bring your glim this way.

I've a couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples's care." "Be handy, then," rejoined Terence, "or, I'll lose my share of the smart money." With the assistance of Terence, and a linkboy who volunteered his services, Quilt soon removed the prisoners from the coach, and leaving Sheppard to the custody of Abraham, proceeded to drag Thames towards the round-house.