‘It is nothing at all of the kind. 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. " "Fool!" cried Wild, taking up the body, "what are you afraid of? After all," he added, pausing, "he may be of more use to me alive than dead. ‘But for how long?’ Lady Bicknacre asked apprehensively. I’ll do it. The times were such that, with the opinions he entertained, he could not remain idle. She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. For a long time neither spoke again.
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