hanged. Though not much passed the middle
term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. His frame was
wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard,
and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was
perfectly white. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever,
and his glances retained their accustomed fire.

"I did not come hither to consult you as to the state of my health,
Sir," he observed, displeased by Jonathan's allusion to the alteration
in his appearance.

"True," replied Wild. "You were no doubt surprised by the unlooked-for
intelligence I sent you of your nephew's return?"

"Was it _unlooked-for_ on your part?" demanded the knight,
distrustfully.

"On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. "I should as soon have expected
the bones of Tom Sheppard to reunite themselves and walk out of that
case, as Thames Darrell to return. The skipper, Van Galgebrok, affirmed
to me,--nay, gave me the additional testimony of two of his crew,--that
he was thrown overboard. But it appears he was picked up by fishermen,
and carried to France, where he has remained ever since, and where it
would have been well for him if he had remained altogether."

"Have you seen him?" asked Trenchard.

"I have," replied Wild; "and nothing but the evidence of my senses would
have made me believe he was living, after the positive assurance I
received to the contrary. He is at present with Mr. Wood,--the person
whom you may remember adopted him,--at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and
it's a singular but fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned,
that Mrs. Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just
left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the
house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no
time as yet for hostile movements."

"And what course do you propose to pursue in reference to him?" asked
Sir Rowland.

"My plan is a very simple one," rejoined the thief-taker smiling
bitterly. "I would treat him as you treated his father, Sir Rowland."

"Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering.

"Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. "I should call it
putting him out of the way. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is
the same."

"I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly. "Since the sea
has spared him, I will spare him. It is in vain to struggle against the
arm of fate. I will shed