I overheard Jonathan Wild's instructions to Quilt Arnold, and though he spoke in slang, and in an under tone, my quick ears, and acquaintance with the thieves' lingo, enabled me to make out every word he uttered. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. He did everything. “What are you doing?” he asked. Please yourself. The girl nodded sagely. She could see over a waist high stone wall into the miniature courtyard, complete with benches only a small child could sit upon, one which had been broken in half, its two pieces left unjoined on the sandy ground. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. Lady Trafford uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. The risk I run is nothing to yours. .
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