“Dreadful women, my dear!” said Miss Stanley. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. A full-curled wig descended half-way down his back and shoulders; a neckcloth of "right Mechlin" was twisted round his throat so tightly as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten him with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and bosom; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his shoes. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. The mob pursued the thief-taker and his party all the way, and such missiles as could be collected were hurled at them. But the Ramage affair needed clearing up, of course; it was a flaw upon that project.
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