"My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. "Try!" Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution, but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. " "That he is," added Blueskin, approvingly. If the boy was legging it alone…. " "Could I credit your wild story, I might do so," returned Thames, with a look of perplexity. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. "The gen'l'man'll be here directly. " "It is folded under your pillow.
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