Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. There was absolute quiet. "O Massa Ireton! Massa Wild!" ejaculated Caliban, "Shack Sheppart gone!" "Gone? you black devil!—Gone?" cried Ireton. “An annuity—a sum of money paid to you yearly or quarterly through my solicitors, and which you can consider as a gift from your sister. “Well,” he said, argumentatively, “it IS. “Your great success has been my joy, our joy as well as yours. ” She laughed softly. 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. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. Then he put the paper by. There was a tearing sound and the cloth of her habit ripped apart as the smothered point drove through it, missing its intended target. We've made a pretty penny by him—sixty guineas this blessed day. I will tell you what you shall give me, if you like.
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