These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. But a total stranger, a man you never saw twentyfour hours ago! It can't be thought of. "Go—go!" "I see what you mean," rejoined Blueskin, tossing a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as it fell; "you owe Jonathan a grudge;—so do I. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. We'll have some fun down there at my place, Spurlock; but we'll probably bore your wife to death. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards.
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