He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. “I’ve gotta go. " "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him. The party, then, sat down to a bowl of punch; and, at its conclusion, Captain Kneebone regretted that an engagement to spend the evening with Mrs.
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