235 “No, I think she’s out sick with a throat infection. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. "Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return.
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