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. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers. ‘I thank you. ’ The one ray of light lifted Melusine’s gloom a little and she smiled. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack.
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