"Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. . "I have," replied Wild; "and nothing but the evidence of my senses would have made me believe he was living, after the positive assurance I received to the contrary. But he tells them that I am a spy. ” “It was an inspiration—your speaking to him?” “I felt impudent. You cannot refuse me this. The chance it is the same for both. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone.
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