Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track. ‘But my poor Jacques is wounded and—’ ‘All taken care of,’ interrupted Hilary. Presently he heard her voice. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. This done, he unloosed the pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast. Horrible doubts assailed her. There were two sisters, you know. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand.
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