Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. She remained for a few moments standing as though listening to his retreating footsteps. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. “I hope you realize,” he went on, in a lower and less assured tone, “that I am in earnest—very much in earnest. I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw Jack Sheppard, stealing up stairs, followed by two men with crape on their faces.
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