You shall swing for this after next sessions, or my name's not Jonathan Wild.

I told you, Sir Rowland," he added, turning to the knight, and chuckling, "the devil never deserts me." "Conduct me to your dwelling, Sir, without further delay," said Trenchard, sternly,--"to the boy." "The boy's not at my house," replied Wild.
"Where is he, then ?" demanded the other, hastily.
"At a place we call the Dark House at Queenhithe," answered Jonathan, "a sort of under-ground tavern or night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to be committed.

You need have no apprehensions about him, Sir Rowland.
He's safe enough now.

I left him in charge of Quilt Arnold and Rykhart Van Galgebrok--the skipper I spoke of--with strict orders to shoot him if he made any further attempt at escape; and they're not lads--the latter especially--to be trifled with.

I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father--the carpenter Wood.