“Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply. Sheppard. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. He smiled tenderly. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. “You could have told me about it, Michelle. The girl suppressed a chuckle that would have been inexplicable. Good night. I am come to rescue you from Wild's violence.
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