The mob now directed their attention to Newgate; and, from their threats, appeared determined to fire it. "Come, then," said Wild, marching towards the door, "we've no time to lose. " Jackson treated this menace with a loud laugh of derision. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. This horrible piece of deformity, who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant butt to the small wits of the jail, was nicknamed the Black Dog of Newgate. “He took my arms and legs!” She lifted the rock from Rhea’s torso. That is all I ask. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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