There's our young friend upstairs. And what's more, I promise to abide by his decision. I am far too much the gentleman. 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. The drawers at the moment were too busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the opportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage within, through a little curtained window that overlooked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose portly person entirely obscured the view. I can’t imagine what possessed you, Veronica. ‘If it is that your men there are going to arrest us, then why do they not do so?’ ‘Left to myself, I’d let them,’ he replied grimly.
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