" Roused by this reflection, filled with the deepest anxiety for his mother, and burning to be avenged upon Jonathan Wild, he grasped the iron bar, which, when he sat down, he had laid upon his knees, and stepped quickly across the room. Where else could she go?’ ‘And there aren’t too many of them around,’ agreed Hilary on a gloomy note. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. He can't be far off. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE.
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