” She had no way of retaliating, so she made a decision. A cry was then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the mob was instantly directed to that quarter. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. Unless he deserts the girl, he won't be so hard to find as formerly. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. And we men would work for them and serve them in loyal fealty. It was an impulse. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. The boy was right. "However, some one must look after the jail; and they're all gone but me. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question.
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