“I’ll be here at one in the morning. "Now, give me the woollen cloth to tie round my fetters," whispered Sheppard. ‘You’re speaking the truth. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. And yet, Spurlock was afraid of the doctor; so was Ruth.
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