Cathy threw Mike a look. Her eye wandered quickly over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly than the rest, of which her son formed the principal figure. She went to her room and changed the loose morning gown in which she had lunched for a dark walking dress. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. They even threatened to cut the traces and take off the wheels from the carriage. Be this as it may, Jonathan remained the victor; and shortly afterwards,—at the price of a third of his estate, it was whispered,—he procured Trenchard's liberation from confinement. Such an obvious ruse, but the boys and girls would defend their pride to the bitter end, the facade of study groups during rutting season. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew a bolt by which it was fastened. Once he had managed to stake his claim, she would have all to do to prove her identity and win it back.
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