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. ’ ‘I’m afraid you are right. He had an objective now. ” He stated matter-of-factly. "I had to give in to him. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘You should have gone to Charvill. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle.
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