Wood," said the lady bridling up, "my request may, perhaps, have some weight with you. It isn’t the same thing. He jumped back, cursing. "Do you take me for a thiefcatcher, like Jonathan Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal?" "No offence, Sir," rejoined the jailer, humbly. ” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes. However this may be, such was the ill report of the place that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer still, of those who paused at the door, read, without some internal trepidation, the formidable name—inscribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate—of JONATHAN WILD. .
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