Muffling up his face, Jack turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps when he heard a man reading aloud an account of his escapes from a newspaper. "Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild (unless I'm misinformed,) was his friend,—so it's not unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack. I have seen many of them. "Quilt Arnold called this morning to say so. "I loved you," replied Jack,—"don't start—it is over now—I loved you, I say, as a boy. " Ruth walked to the companion. "She has flown up stairs," replied the widow. She cried out his name in ecstasy.
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