She was fiercely and bitterly jealous. He was a fool. A creature of convenience, she could have cared less if her children were carried away by drunkards on the street. 265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. Look out, it’s coming. The pole-chair caravan resumed its journey. Without inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and fulfilled his design—for, however rash or hazardous a project might be, if once conceived, Jack always executed it,—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in the Old Bailey. "What's the use of wasting a shot?" rejoined Jonathan, savagely. He could not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed his hands with delight.
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