Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. My father has made every possible inquiry, and offered large rewards; but has not been able to discover the slightest trace of him. You are more in my power than I am in yours. So frightful, indeed, were the ravages of this malady, to which debtors and felons were alike exposed, that its miserable victims were frequently carried out by cart-loads, and thrown into a pit in the burial-ground of Christ-church, without ceremony. His eyes closed.
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