But—if you are a friend of Mr. Fear nothing. ToC Scarcely an hour after the horrible occurrence just related, as Jonathan Wild was seated in the audience-chamber of his residence at the Old Bailey, occupied, like Peachum, (for whose portrait he sat,) with his account-books and registers, he was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Quilt Arnold, who announced Jack Sheppard and Blueskin. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. Wild's intention, doubtless, was to use you as far as he found necessary, and then to sell you. All my personal effects to be left in charge of the nearest American Consulate.
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