*** Gerald vaguely noted that his junior leapt to his feet at sight of his former commander, and that Lucilla sat with her mouth at half-cock, dread in her face. She looked into his eyes, truly noticing their gray color for the first time. It was Celeste’s idea. He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a spacious apartment, with good light and air, situated over the gateway on the western side, and allotted to him, not for his own convenience, but for that of the keepers, who, if he had been placed in a gloomier or more incommodious dungeon, would have necessarily had to share it with him. “What are you doing here? How dare you come to my rooms!” The man stepped into the middle of the room. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. On the death of his royal patron, he resolved to return to his own country; and, after various delays, which had postponed it to the present time, he had succeeded in accomplishing his object. Lucy sighed, finding it odd to switch roles as she had over the past weeks. 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. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face.
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