Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. “Think of the mockery!” she said. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. Are you prepared to do it?” Her hands clenched. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured forth her heart in prayer. He’s a catch, Lucy. She had killed the McCloskeys after they had witnessed her making a kill.
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