So Mrs. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. " "Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently. Take your half loaf with the others. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. What are you after?’ ‘But my pistol and dagger, imbecile,’ she exclaimed impatiently, moving sharply back. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room.
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