Silence! Then Anna clutched her companion’s arm. "Search him and iron him afresh;" commanded Jonathan. "He says he don't understand flash," replied the lady in gentleman's attire. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs.
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