They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. They walked back to 118 hand in hand. "If you won't disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan Wild!" "Further concealment is needless," answered the other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and resuming his natural tone of voice; "I am Jonathan Wild!" "Say you so!" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this your passport to eternity. Wild, and his uncle, Sir Rowland Trenchard. But he had shown no desire for information, no curiosity. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. "This is strange," said Jack, under his breath.
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