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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. . She saw now that it was not a dissipated face; it was as smooth and unlined as polished marble, which at present it resembled. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland.

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