’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. "If this is the case, where is she?" "In Bedlam," replied the thief-taker, with a Satanic grin. The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity. ’ ‘Probably not.
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