said he, "but first we must put you in trim."
"In trim!" said Morton, "What do you mean?"
"Why, we must put on these rough bracelets. I durst not—nay, d—n it I durst do any thing—but I would not for three hours plunder of a stormed town bring a whig before my colonel without his being ironed. Come, come, young man, never look sulky about it."
He advanced to put on the irons; but, seizing the oaken-seat upon which he had rested, Morton threatened to dash out the brains of the first who should approach him.
"I should manage you in a moment, my youngster," said Bothwell, but I had rather you would strike sail quietly."
Here indeed he spoke the truth, not from either fear or reluctance to adopt force, but because he dreaded the consequences of a noisy scuffle, through which it might probably be discovered that he