Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. " "My negligence, Mr. They were Jonathan Wild and Quilt Arnold.
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