But there were two places of punishment which merit some notice from their peculiarity. Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived. 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. The real ‘Alcide’,” she wound up with a faint smile across the table at him, “is here. His curiosity, his literary instincts, had been submerged by the recurring thought of the fool he had made of himself.
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