Bring me clothing, I beg of you. My name is Armytage—Lord Ernest Armytage. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. It suited him to dampen the spirits of any who sought to impose upon him, as these relics of the loathed family of Valade seemed like to do. She stood without motion and without strength. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. "He can't get out. Giles's round-house on my own responsibility. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. He paced faster, stomping around. He thrust the smaller weapon into a scabbard that hung from his belt.
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