“Well?” “You and all the rest of them are always lamenting that I do not marry. The clanking of chains, the grating of locks, and the rumbling of bolts must have been music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take to subject himself to such sounds. To surrender himself to the law, to face trial and imprisonment, was out of the question. I don’t see how they can be. Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. " "Loved me! You!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you.
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