I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison. Wood, in a whisper, as he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health of the Chevalier de Saint George—a proposition to which the lady immediately responded by drinking the toast aloud. I owed his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. She looked at it with a little shudder, but she made no motion to take it. Just as Jack got half way down the stairs, and Wild and the Jew reached the upper landing, the street-door was opened by Langley and Ireton, the latter of whom carried a lantern.
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