Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. Courtlaw sat with folded arms. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. ” Ahead of them walked a gentleman whom it was evident they must at their present pace very speedily overtake. "You poor child!" said Prudence. " "It is," answered Wood. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. His arm fell to his side.
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