‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. The porter instantly made his appearance, and Sheppard ordered him to take care of the horses. 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. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's horse to the stable—see him dressed and fed directly. “Yes. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. .
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