With the last glimmer of decency he had sent the daughter to his sister. Gerald, intent on his trail, ignored it. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. People ran out of their shops to join the pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop of fifty persons at his heels —all eager to assist in the capture. But what he could do or might do she could not imagine.
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