And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. "Where shall I fly?" exclaimed the lady, bewildered with terror. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips. "Bah!" cried Jack, contemptuously; "nobody's disgraced and ruined unless he's found out. Ladies with weapon’s on ’em. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. " "A boy from his shop was here a short time ago.
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