s sure you could not have the heart to slay a child--an
innocent child. God forgive you!"

"May He, indeed, forgive me!" returned Trenchard, crossing himself
devoutly; "but my guilt is not the less heavy, because your child
escaped. This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was
stretched forth to save him. The infant was rescued from a watery-grave
by an honest mechanic, who has since brought him up as his own son."

"Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. "But trifle with
mo no longer. Moments are ages now. Let me see my child, if he is really
here?"

"Behold him!" returned Trenchard, taking Thames (who had been a mute,
but deeply-interested, witness of the scene) by the hand, and leading
him towards her.

"Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength. "My sight is
failing me. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. Yes!" she
screamed, "these are his father's features! It is--it is my son!"

"Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?"

"I am, indeed--my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to
her breast.

"Oh!--to see you thus!" cried Thames, in an agony of affliction.

"Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more
closely to her. "I am happy--quite happy now."

During this touching interview, a change had come over Sir Rowland, and
he half repented of what he had done.

"You can no longer refuse to tell me the name of this youth's father,
Aliva," he said.

"I dare not, Rowland," she answered. "I cannot break my vow. I will
confide it to Father Spencer, who will acquaint you with it when I am no
more. Undraw the curtain, love," she added to Thames, "that I may look
at you."

"Ha!" exclaimed her son, starting back, as he obeyed her, and disclosed
Jonathan Wild.

"Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper.

"What have you seen?" inquired Lady Trafford.

"My enemy," replied her son.

"Your enemy!" she returned imperfectly comprehending him. "Sir Rowland
is your uncle--he will be your guardian--he will protect you. Will you
not, brother?"

"Promise," said a deep voice in Trenchard's ear.

"He will kill me," cried Thames. "There is a man in this room who seeks
my life."

"Impossible!" rejoined his mother.

"Look at these fetters," returned Thames, holding up his manacled
wrists; "they were put on by my uncle's command."

"Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford.

"Not a moment is to be lost," whispered Jonathan to T