She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. Agents were dispersed in all directions—offers the most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join the Chevalier's standard. Amid this skirmish Jonathan greatly distinguished himself. 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.
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