Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. "She in intensely impressionable and romantic, and probably she is giving the chap qualities he doesn't possess. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance. To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered—ough! ough!—how this cough chokes me!" Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty, managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike of a halbert, which was lying, apart from the pole, upon a bench near him. There’s plenty to be got out of life in a decent sort of way.
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