"What are you waiting for?" asked Jack, impatiently. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?" With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. He had done his best, pitching with determined fury that resulted in two outs. Were the parents agreeable? Were they of age? Had the license been procured? But here, in a far country, only the velvet manacles of wedlock were necessary. He continued his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader.
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