She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. Gin is the poor man's friend,—his sole set-off against the rich man's luxury. Wild here presently, and I wouldn't for the world—Zounds!" he exclaimed, as the figure of the thief-taker appeared at the wicket, "here he is. People running, screaming, hiding. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. It is safe. She has been a dear. " CHAPTER VI. ” Capes watched the limpid water dripping from his oar. She could now see to read; so she stirred the manuscript about until she came upon the first page.
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