‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. We WERE thieves. "To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. "I guessed what was coming. My father's chief fear, I must tell you, is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild. It has been purchased by blood!" "What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag. ’ ‘That I do not doubt,’ Gerald muttered drily, but added in a tone of intense satisfaction, ‘Then this husband is still in France? Excellent.
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