human
I wish somebody would tie my hands afore instead of behind. My golly, how hot dat hole feel! I tink dey must shoot wid red-hot shot.
gpt
What, going, Sir Richard! exclaimed Billy Byles, coming in.
human
Hang it, you have stolen a march upon them. I shall go in to-night. Blunt, you had better march the prisoners in. There's no use of keeping them here all night. Hadn't you better wait for us, Sir Richard?
gpt
No, my good friend, I answered;
human
I cannot rest satisfied till I hear more of Miss Davenport.
gpt
Oh, she is quite safe, depend upon it. Although not an hour before, on hearing of the situation in which she had been left, he had exclaimed,
human
Poor Bessy!