Peg after peg had gone down his blistered throat, but never had a smile touched his lips, never had his gaze roved inquisitively. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. The night his execution was therefore passed in a most anxious state of mind; nor was his uneasiness allayed by the appearance of Jonathan Wild, who, after he had been driven from the roof of the jail, repaired to the Middle Stone Ward in a fit of ungovernable passion, to vent his rage upon the prisoner, whom he looked upon as the cause of the present calamity.
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