“You poor little girl!” he cried. "He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen, dismounting. ‘It was your son who left the place empty then?’ he asked. ” Anna leaned back in the chair and laughed softly. There were lines in her face that age had not put there. ‘Am I a fool? Can I blow off a head with a pistol which is not loaded?’ ‘She has a point,’ conceded Alderley, relaxing a little as amusement burgeoned again ‘Ten to one she is a French spy,’ burst from Roding. Sheppard. You will make her suffer. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small inn,—which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six Bells,—where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed. Was there anything he could do! "No, Hoddy; nothing. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand.
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