“Well, gentlemen,” rejoined Wood, mildly; “since Mr. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you.”
“Enough,” returned Jackson, extending his hand; “and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for it likewise. But you must allow me to observe, my good Sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my friend. Mr. Wild never was the associate of thieves.”
“Never,” echoed Smith, emphatically, “upon my honour.”
“I'm satisfied with your assurance,” replied the carpenter, drily.
“It's more than I am,” muttered Thames.
“I was not aware that Jonathan Wild was an acquaintance of yours, Mr. Jackson,” said Kneebone, whose assiduity to Mrs. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene.
“I've known him all my life,” replied the other.
“The devil you have! Then, perhaps, you can tell me when he intends to put his threat into execution?”
“What threat?” asked Jackson.
“Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal; one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called.”