Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. No more. What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. He would advise you how to get rid of the fellow. 3. Spurling. Do anything to please you, Vee. The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight.
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