"Say you so!" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this your passport to
eternity."

Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which, luckily for the
individual against whom it was aimed, flashed in the pan.

"I might now send you on a similar journey!" replied Jonathan, with a
bitter smile, and preserving the unmoved demeanour he had maintained
throughout; "but I prefer conveying you, in the first instance, to
Newgate. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow."

So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the
throat of the woollen-draper. And so sudden and well-directed was the
assault, that he completely overthrew his gigantic antagonist.

"Lend a hand with the ruffles, Blueskin!" he shouted, as that personage,
who had just recovered from the stunning effects of the blow, contrived
to pick himself up. "Look quick, d--n you, or we shall never master
him!"

"Murder!" shrieked Mrs. Wood, at the top of her voice.

"Here's a pistol!" cried Thames, darting towards the undischarged weapon
dropped by Blueskin in the scuffle, and pointing it at Jonathan. "Shall
I shoot him?"

"Yes! yes! put it to his ear!" cried Mrs. Wood; "that's the surest way!"

"No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatching the pistol, and