David Courtlaw—Sir John Ferringhall. And she defies me. Such was the hubbub and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not hear its plunge into the flood. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. It was as much as I could do to prevent him flying out of the house there and then and coming after you. As it was, the mob went on alternately hooting and huzzaing as the names of Wild and Sheppard were pronounced, while some individuals, bolder than the rest, thrust their faces into the coach-window, and assured Jack that he should never be taken to Tyburn.
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