"Ireton, as you captured him, the reward is yours. The boy was right. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. Spurlock grew cold. The last time Pottiswick had called out the militia on suspicion of intruders in Remenham House, a large rodent had been all the spoil.
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