But the relief from the strain of her immediate necessities was immense. She was unusually pale, and her eyes were brilliant. “He will probably make a statement to-night. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?" With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more. Her cheeks flushed a dull red. But days had now passed.
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