Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. ‘If the boy had sense enough to send word to Gerald as he was told to do, then God be praised!’ ‘Parbleu,’ broke from Melusine, as she turned on him instead. ” “Well, why not?” Lady Lescelles asked, smiling. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. "Confusion!" ejaculated Jonathan: "can he have escaped? No. 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.
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