And, if ever I'm brought to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door. ’ ‘So I infer. 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. So the talk went on. "It won't do to betray the officer," he muttered. Ah Coom.
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