I suppose, Sir Wycherly--I suppose, Mr.Dutton, and you, my pretty young lady--I presume all of you have heard of such a person as the Pretender;--some of you may possibly have _seen_ him." Sir Wycherly now dropt his knife and fork, and sat gazing at the speaker in amazement.

To him the Christian religion, the liberties of the subject--more especially of the baronet and lord of the manor, who had four thousand a year--and the Protestant succession, all seemed to be in sudden danger.
"I always told my brother, the judge--Mr.Baron Wychecombe, who is dead and gone--that what between the French, that rogue the Pope, and the spurious offspring of King James II., we should yet see troublesome times in England! And now, sir, my predictions are verified!" "Not as to England, yet, my good sir.

Of Scotland I have not quite so good news to tell you; as your namesake, here, brings us the tidings that the son of the Pretender has landed in that kingdom, and is rallying the clans.

He has come unattended by any Frenchmen, it would seem, and has thrown himself altogether on the misguided nobles and followers of his house." "'Tis, at least, a chivalrous and princely act!" exclaimed Admiral Bluewater.
"Yes--inasmuch as it is a heedless and mad one.

England is not to be conquered by a rabble of half-dressed Scotchmen." "True; but England may be conquered by England, notwithstanding." Sir Gervaise now chose to remain silent, for never before had Bluewater come so near betraying his political bias, in the presence of third persons.