A large dog was then set at him by a stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his faithful iron-bar, he speedily sent him yelping back. Arrived at Westbourne-Green—then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from KensallGreen. The Iron Bar. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. " For the life of him, O'Higgins could not think of anything else to say. "I know my life is valuable to you, or you would not spare it.
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