" "Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope," interposed Sheppard. " Ah Cum nodded. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. His face was aquiline but sweet, the years had not yet taken the blush from his cheeks and his lips were similarly rubefacient. He seemed so clean anyway, his fair 215 skin, his light brown hair, there almost seemed to be no point. "Let me go," cried Winifred. ” She said. He had a narrow escape, however; for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet burried itself deeply in the wall. He never retires to rest till daybreak—if at all.
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