Usually his charges bored him with their interrogative chatter, for he knew that his information more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. "Oh! no—no—no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. He could not doubt it. Terrific yells rent the air. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the ordinary was reciting. .
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