CHAPTER XX. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin. Only that I was prevented by one of those soldiers that caught me in the big house. "Oh! you men! you men! Once get a thing into your head, and nothing will beat it out. ’ A tiny giggle escaped her, and she lowered the pistol a trifle. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. They sat face to face beneath an experienced-looking rucksack and a brand new portmanteau and a leather handbag, in the afternoon-boat train that goes from Charing Cross to Folkestone for Boulogne.
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