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Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. "You will be wanting your broth, Hoddy," she said. " "Here's a particular account of Jack's many robberies and escapes," roared the hawker,—"how he broke into the house of his master, Mr. Cowering in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.
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