Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. "I'm at your mercy, Poll," rejoined Kneebone, abjectly. Notwithstanding the heat of the season,—which was not, however, found particularly inconvenient in this subterranean region,—a large heaped-up fire blazed ruddily in one corner, and lighted up a circle of as villanous countenances as ever flame shone upon. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. Austin," continued the tapstress; "he's only going on an errand. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour.
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