I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. Sheppard, who had been stricken down by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up, she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body of Blueskin. "Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. The lad hesitated. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. Pardon what I have said, Madam. Glancing idly up at her own window as they had swung round the corner she had seen a strange thing. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward. " "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred. “Yes, but maybe later.
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