'Who?'

'Him yonder'--she jerked her head back to indicate the
watch-house--'Black Jack.'

'What for?'

'He kissed me,' she said boldly; 'I'm his sweetheart.'

'Eh!' The Inca paused a moment, startled. 'But he killed his sweetheart
yesterday.'

'What! Meg!' the girl exclaimed with deep scorn. 'Her weren't his true
sweetheart. Her druv him to it. Serve her well right! Owd Meg!'

'How old are you, my dear?'

'Don't know. But feyther said last Wakes I was fourtane. I mun keep
young for Jack. He wunna have me if I'm owd.'

'But he'll be hanged, they say.'

She gave a short, satisfied laugh.

'Not now he's drunk Licksy--hangman won't get him. I heard a man say
Jack 'd get off wi' twenty year for manslaughter, most like.'

'And you'll wait twenty years for him?'