‘I thought it was his great-nephew, young Brewis Charvill, who is his heir. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. She understood. A ball from Wild's pistol passed through his heart, and a volley of musketry poured from the guards lodged several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader. The ball passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. Let me only wear your livery. Miss Stanley reflected on this proposal for a moment. But I'll tell you about him some other time.
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