"Can't!" repeated his mother. "Why not?"
"I'll tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. And immediately afterwards the curtain was drawn aside, and disclosed the Satanic countenance of Jonathan Wild, who had crept into the house unperceived, "I'll tell you, why he can't go back to his master," cried the thief-taker, with a malignant grin. "He has robbed him."
"Robbed him!" screamed the widow. "Jack!"
Her son averted his gaze.
"Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. "The night before last, Mr. Wood's house was broken into and plundered. Your son was seen by the carpenter's wife in company with the robbers. Here," he added, throwing a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars of the burglary, with the reward for Jack's apprehension."
"Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face.
"Come," said Wild, turning authoritatively to Jack,—"you have overstayed your time."
"Do not go with him, Jack!" shrieked his mother. "Do not—do not!"
"He must!" thundered Jonathan, "or he goes to jail."
"If you must go to prison, I will go with you," cried Mrs. Sheppard: "but avoid that man as you would a serpent."