Wood caught hold of Jack's leg, and dragged him off the bench. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. " "Och! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy, there's no more to be said; and right sorry am I, I struck him. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Marvel, who proceeded to the cart, and took his seat upon the coffin. I shall quit this roof to-morrow. " The answer to this request was a "smack" of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room.
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