"Take her," cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. The thought allured him, and therein lay the danger. They were only passers-by. When I've escorted you proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard.
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