Byby. "Wretch!" cried Jack. This formidable person, who was no other than the renowned Figg, the "Atlas of the sword," as he is termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and "skull covering," and was wiping the heat from his bepatched and closeshaven pate. He was placed in a coach, handcuffed, and heavily fettered, and guarded by a vast posse of officers to Temple Bar, where a fresh relay of constables escorted him to Westminster. Altogether, it was the most dreadful noise he had ever heard. So he was forced to shift and proceed at another angle, forgetting his promise to McClintock to be temperate. For nothing will ever convince me that it is not the man’s share in life to shield, to protect, to lead and toil and watch and battle with the world at large. ’ Amusement flickered in Gerald’s breast. Any natural fineness would be numbed by drink. The very sight of these impediments, would have appalled a less courageous spirit than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him.
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