The name of his father's murderer is also known to me. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. " "Then you are hurt," cried the carpenter in alarm. You are not with the Kent militia, are you?’ ‘West Kent, yes. " "And what is that?" "I have relatives not far from Hartford. CHAPTER X. She had not at first the power for concealment. Are you now satisfied?" "No," interposed Wood, furiously, "I shall never be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn.
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