"It is Jonathan. At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. "To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. "Oh, God! would you take him from me?— would you murder him?" "His father's name?—and he is free," rejoined Rowland, holding her arms. ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. "All's over," muttered Jonathan. . “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. I believe that I have heard my sister speak of you. “But of course it’s aunt’s doing really. "Away with him!" exclaimed Sir Rowland, impatiently.
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