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. He was perhaps forty-five years of age. She addressed Anna with a beaming smile and a very creditable mixture of condescension and officiousness. While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and fired several shots upon the assailants. Yet even now there were so many things untouched, so much to be learned. “After all, it’s our honeymoon. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself.
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