‘You will arrest me? For—for—’ ‘Trespass, theft and spying,’ snapped Hilary. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. "Mr. " "From whom?" vociferated Trenchard. “I shall never marry,” said Ann Veronica, resolutely; “I’m not the sort.
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