“My God!” and ceased to move. He had chosen his time well. . ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. ‘I have a very good mind to do so, imbecile. "Ay, indeed! And who may that be?" inquired his wife. ’ ‘Ah, that explains your surprise. ‘I know just what he was doing. So Monday, when I see one of the maids come out with a basket, for to go fetch summat for that other Frenchie—the female as I told you about, miss, as is forever coming and going with the nobs. Wood—and after him came his daughter. She held up the lamp. Passing at a glance over the whole of the intervening period; leaving in the words of the poet, —The growth untried Of that wide gap— we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June, 1715.
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