But, as he made no answer, he was removed. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. "There it is!" cried Sir James, eagerly. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me.
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