What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business. ’ He laughed. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. “I have given it up,” she answered. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily. The great door of the Stone Hall was thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the room. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me.
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