"To be sure, it's not surprising the poor little thing should be so marked; for, when I lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins, and such like horrible visions, for ever dancing round me! And then, you know, Sir—but, perhaps, you don't know that little Jack was born, a month before his time, on the very day his poor father suffered. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. ‘If you shoot me,’ Gerald said quickly, throwing out a hand, ‘I shan’t be able to rescue you. Never in this world! Let the hotel people take care of him; it's their affair. The gentleman catched him i' th' fact, and we shut him up for safety i' that pris'n.
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