The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door. Wood—and after him came his daughter. She did not want to go to the doctor's people; however kindly that might be, they would be only curious strangers. "They shan't have the opportunity," replied Kneebone. To that, perhaps, a large part of its satisfyingness was due. They were looking for a guide. 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. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. They put her down, and she leaped at them; she smote a helmet to the ground. Wild will hang me.
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