"I tell 'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am, and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. Good night. 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. Taking this for encouragement, her suitor proceeded still more extravagantly. But he was at last persuaded that I mean you no harm, and that I might—just possibly, since I am both a gentleman and a major of militia—be able to be of more assistance to you than he himself. "Are you not content with the crimes you have committed, —but you must carry your villany to this point. ' That's your signal.
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