After pursuing the fugitive as before related, Jonathan Wild returned to his own habitation, where he was occupied during the remainder of the night with Quilt Arnold and Obadiah Lemon in removing everything which, in case of a search, might tend to criminate him. "You're right Jack," he said, after a pause, during which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed attention: "this must have been my father!" "No doubt of it," answered Sheppard; "only compare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're as like as two peas in a pod. Her little white hand stole across the table. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. Stanley, consenting with dignity. Darting to a window looking in that direction, Thames threw it up, and discharged both his pistols, but without effect. Don’t be afraid to go on thinking it.
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