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. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. Upon leaning back, he commented, “You look so sad. If it came at all, it was as fleeting as the girl's smile. It would not have interested him in the least to learn that the tub ran on two powers—wind and oil. ‘I’m a soldier, missie.
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