A native of Manchester, he was the son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic, and a sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life while fighting for James the Second at the battle of the Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart. He has helped me out of scrapes though, no end of times. I didn't mean it. “He is one of our guests—perhaps I should say boarders here, but he seldom returns before dinner-time. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting. ” She stepped into the curtains as Martin stared daggers. He had an appointment in Jersey, you know, after he left the army. Drawing his hanger he rode amongst the crowd, trampled upon those most in advance, and made an attempt to seize their leader, in whom he recognised Blueskin.
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