I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. Been making herself at home all right. Such was his fury, that if he had not been restrained by the presence of the two turnkeys, he might perhaps have anticipated the course of justice, by laying violent hands upon his victim. Enfeebled by his wound, Wild had lost much of his strength, though nothing of his ferocity and energy,—and fiercely assailing Blueskin, he made a desperate but unsuccessful attempt to apprehend him.
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