She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. “A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. In a moment the brisk evening breeze caught the lank canvas and bellied it taut. "Were you present at the time of the robbery?" pursued Jonathan. " "He protect you," retorted Blueskin, maliciously; "you haven't a worse enemy on the face of the earth than Jonathan Wild.
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