Lucy was silent. She could learn nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary piece of information, which added to, rather than alleviated her misery,—namely, that Jonathan Wild had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels. This occasioned a little delay; but Jack, whose skill as a workman in the particular line he had chosen was unequalled, and who laughed at difficulties, speedily cut out a panel by means of a centre-bit and knife, took the key from the other side, and unlocked the door. It was not a hopeful looking group. Mrs. “Maybe someday I can look them up again, just to see how they are doing. I told you that at the outset. He was consumed with desire. I guess.
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