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JACK SHEPPARD





JACK SHEPPARD
By
W. HARRISON AINSWORTH
FREDERICK WARNE & CO., LTD.
LONDON AND NEW YORK


"Upon my word, friend,” said I, "you have almost
made me long to try what a robber I should make."-
“There's great art in it, if you did," quoth he. —“Ab!
but,” said I, "there's a great deal in being hanged."-
Life and Actions of Gusman D'Alfarche.


JACK SHEPPARD
EPOCH THE FIRST
"Suzua
1703
C
JONATHAN WILD
I
The Widow and her Child.
stechi
MSC 9-12
Friday, the 26th of November 1703, and about
eleven o'clock at night, the door of a miserable
habitation, situated in an obscure quarter of the borough
of Southwark, known as the Old Mint, was opened;
and a man, with a lantern in his hand, appeared at the
threshold. Tbis person, whose age might be about
forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze
coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar;
a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the
knees ; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and
sboes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters,
fastened by small silver buckles. He wore a three
cornered bat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a
thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. His
clotbes bad evidently seen some service, and were
plentifully begrimed with the dust of the workshop.
Still, he had a decent look, and decidedly the air of
one well-to-do in the world. In stature, he was short
115986


JACK SHEPPARD
and stumpy; in person, corpulent; and in countenance,
sleek, snub-nosed, and demure.
Immediately behind this individual came a pale,
verty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect con:
trasted strongly with his plump and comfortable
physiognomy. She was dressed in a tattered black
stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended,
it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with
which it was here and there tricked out, to represent
the garb of widowhood; and beld in her arms a sleep-
ing infant, swathed in the folds of a liosey-woolsey
shawl.
Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still
retained something of a pleasing expression, and might
have been termed beautiful, had it not been for the
repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-
drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more
shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her
complexion. She could not be more than twenty; and
though want and other suffering had done the work of
time, had wasted her frame, and robbed her cheek of
its bloom and roundness, they had not extinguished
the lustre of her eyes, nor thinned her raven bair.
Checking an ominous cough that, ever and anon,
convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few
parting words to her companion, who lingered at the
doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he
did not very well know how to communicate.
“Well, good-night, Mr. Wood," she said, in the
deep, hoarse accents of consumption ; "and may God
Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness!
You were always the best of masters to my poor
husband; and now you've proved the best of friends
to his widow and orphan boy."
“ Pooh! pooh! say no more about it,” rejoined the
man hastily. “I've done no more than my duty, Mrs.
Sheppard, and neither deserve, nor desire your thanks.


JACK SHEPPARD
3
Whoso giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord';
that's my comfort. And such slight relief as I can
afford should have been offered earlier, if I'd known
where you bad taken refuge after your unfortunate
husband's-
“Executioo. you would say, sir," added Mrs.
Sheppard, with a deep sigh, perceiving that her
benefactor hesitated to propounce the word. “You
show more consideration to the feelings of a hempen
widow than tbere is any need to show ; I'm used to
insult as I am to misfortune, and am grown callous to
both. But I'm not used to compassion, and know not
how to take it. My heart would speak if it could, for
it is very full. There was a time, long, long ago,
when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden
at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. Wood;
but they never come now. I have never wept since
that day."
“And I trust you'll never have occasion to weep
again, my poor soul,” replied Wood, setting down his
lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes,
“unless it be tears of joy. Pshaw!” he added, making
an effort to subdue his emotion. “I can't leave you
in this way. I must stay a minute longer, if only to
see you smile."
So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door,
and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fireplace,
wbere a bandful of chips, apparently just lighted,
crackled within the rusty grate.
The room in which this interview took place had a
sordid and miserable look. Rotten, and covered with
a thick coat of dirt, the boards of the floor presented
a very insecure footing. The bare walls were scored
all over with grotesque designs, the chief of which
represented the punishment of Nebuchadnezzar. The
rest were bieroglyphic characters, executed in red chalk
and charcoal. The ceiling had in many places given


4
JACK SHEPPARD
way; the laths had been removed, and, where any
plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered
with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. Over
an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid patchwork
counterpane,
and
upon the counterpane lay a black
hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form
in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and
some other articles of female attire. On a small shell
near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty pbials,
a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jag without a
handle, a small tio coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer
of rouge, a fragment of looking glass, and a flask
labelled “ Rosa Solis." Broken pipes Jittered the
floor, if that can be said to be littered which, in the
first instance, was a mass of squalor and filth.
Over the chimney-piece was pasted a handbill, pur-
porting to be " The last Dying Speech and Confession
of Tom SHEPPARD, the Notorious llousebreaker, who
suffered at Tyburn on the 25th of February 1703."
This placard was adorned with a rude woodcut, repre-
senting the unhappy malefactor at the place of execu-
tion. On one side of the handbill a print of the
reigning sovereign, Anne, had been pinned over the
portrait of William the Third, whose aquiline nose,
keen eyes, and luxuriant wig were just visible above
the diadem of the queen. On the other, a wretched
engraving of the Chevalier de Saint George, or, as he
was styled in the label attached to the portrait, James
the Third, raised a suspicion that the inmate of the
house was not altogether free from some tincture of
Jacobitism.
Beneath these prints a cluster of bobpails, driven
into the wall, formed certain letters. wbicb, if properly
deciphered, produced the words, "Paul Groves, cobler";
and under the name, traced in charcoal, appeared the
following record of the poor fellow's fate : “ Hung
himsel in this mom for luv of licker,” accompanied by


JACK SHEPPARD
5
a graphic sketch of the miserable suicide dangling from
a beam.
A farthing candle, stuck in a bottle-neck,
shed its feeble light upon the table, which, owing to
the provident kindness of Mr. Wood, was much better
furnished with eatables than might have been expected,
and boasted a loaf, a knuckle of ham, a meat pie, and
a flask of wine.
“You've but a sorry lodging, Mrs. Sheppard,” said
Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his
palms before the scanty flame.
“ It's wretched enough, indeed, sir," rejoined the
widow; “but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold
stoves and open streets.”
“Of course of course," returned Wood hastily;
"anything's better than that. But take a drop of
wine," be urged, filling a drinking-born and presenting
it to her; "it's choice canary, and'll do you good.
Aud now, come and sit by me, my dear, and let's have
a little quiet cbat together. Wben things are at the
worst, they'll mend. Take my word for it, your troubles
are over.”
"I hope they are, sir," answered Mrs. Sheppard,
with a faint smile and a doubtful shake of the head,
as Wood drew her to a seat beside him, “ for I've had
my full share of misery. But I don't look for peace
on this side the grave.
“Nonsense!” cried Wood ; " while there's life there's
hope. Never be down-hearted. Besides,” he added,
opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped,
and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly
but placid features, “it's sinful to repine while you've
a child like this to comfort you. Lord help him! he's
the very image of his father. Like carpenter, like
chips."
“That likeness is the chief cause of my misery,"
replied the widow, shuddering « Were it not for
that, he would indeed be a blessing and a comfort to


6
JACK SHEPPARD
me.
He never cries por frets, as children generally do,
but lies at my bosom, or on my koee, as quiet aod 18
gentle as you see him pow. But, when I look upon
his innocent face, and see how like he is to bis fatber
-when I think of tbat father's shameful ending, and
recollect how free from guilt he once was—at such
times, Mr. Wood, despair will come over me ; aod, dear
as this babe is to me, far dearer than my owa wretched
life, which I would lay down for him any mioate, I
have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than be
should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his
father's temptations — rather than he sbould live as
wickedly, and die as disgracefully, as his father. Add,
when I have seen him ning away before my eyes
getting thinner and thinner every day, I have some-
times thought my prayers were beard."
"Marriage and hanging go by destiny," observed
Wood, after a pause; "but I trust your child is re-
served for a better fate than either, Mrs. Sheppard."
The latter part of this speech was delivered with
so much significance of manner, that a bystander might
have inferred that Mr. Wood was not particularly
fortunate in his own matrimonial connections.
“Goodness only knows what he's reserved for,"
rejoined the widow, in a desponding tone; "but if
Mynheer van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at
the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will
never die in his bed."
“Save us!” exclaimed Wood. “And who is this
Van Gal-Gal-what's his outlandish pame?"
“Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. "He's tho
famous Dutch conjurer who foretold King William's
accident and death, last February but one, a mooth
before either event happened, and gave out that another
pripce over the water would soon enjoy bis own agaia;
for which he was committed to Newgate, and whipped
at the cart's tail. He went by another name then


JACK SHEPPARD
Rykhart Scherprechter I think he called himself. His
fellow-prisoners nicknamed him the gallows-provider,
from a habit he had of picking out all those who were
destined to the gibbet. H: was never known to err,
and was as much dreaded as the gaol-fever in conse-
quence. He singled out my poor husband from a
crowd of other felons; and you know how right he
was in that case, sir."
“Ay, marry," replied Wood, with a look that seemed
to say he did not think it required any surprising skill
in the art of divination to predict the doom of the
individual in question ; but whatever opinion he might
entertain he contented himself with inquiring into the
grounds of the conjurer's evil augury respecting the
infant. “What did the old fellow judge from, eh,
Joan ?” he asked.
“From a black mole under the child's right ear,
shaped like a coffin, which is a bad sign; and a deep
line just above the middle of the left thumb, meeting
round about in the form of a noose, which is worse,
replied Mrs. Sheppard. “ To be sure, it's not surprising
the
poor
little thing should be so marked; for, when I
lay in the women-felons' ward in Newgate, where he
first saw the light, or at least such light as ever finds
entrance into that gloomy place, I had nothing, whether
sleeping or waking, but halters, and gibbets, and coffins,
and such-like horrible visions, for ever dancing round
me! And then, you know, sir-but perhaps you don't
know-that little Jack was born a month before his
time, on the very day his poor father suffered ?”
"Lord bless us !" ejaculated Wood, “how shocking!
No, I did not know that.”
“You may see the marks on the child yourself, if
you choose, sir," urged the widow.
“See the devil-not I,” cried Wood impatiently.
"I didn't think you'd been so easily fooled, Joan."
“Fooled or not,” returned Mrs. Sheppard mysteri-
3


8
JACK SHEPPARD
8
ously, “old Van told me one thing which has come
true already.”
“What's that?” inquired Wood, with some curiosity
“He said, by way of comfort, I suppose, after the
fright he gave me at first, that the child would find a
friend within twenty-four hours, who would stand bg
him through life."
“A friend is not so soon gained as lost,” replied
Wood; "but how has the prediction been fulfilled,
Joan, eh ?”
"I thought you would have guessed, sir," replied
the widow timidly. “I'm sure little Jack has but one
friend beside myself in the world, and that's more thao
I would have ventured to say for him yesterday. How-
ever, I've not told you all; for old Van did say some-
thing about the child saving his new-found friend's life
at the time of meeting. But how that's to happen, I
am sure I can't
guess."
“Nor any one else in his senses," rejoined Wood,
with a laugh. “It's not very likely that a babby of
nine months old will save my life, if I'm to be his
friend, as you seem to say, Mrs. Sheppard. But I've
not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless
he turns out an honest lad-mind that. Of all crafts
—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do
him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever
handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand
-of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-
craft. As long as your son observes that precept, I'll
befriend him, but no longer.”
“I don't desire it, sir,” said Mrs. Sheppard meekly.
“There's an old proverb,” continued Wood, rising,
and walking towards the fire, “which says, “Put another
man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your
elbow. But I don't value that, because I think it
applies to one who marries a widow with encumbrances;
and that's not my case, you know."


JACK SHEPPARD
9
"Well, sir," gasped Mrs Sheppard.
"Well, my dear, I've a proposal to make in regard
to this babby of yours, which may, or may not, be
agreeable. All I can say is, it's well meant; and I
may add, I'd bave made it five minutes ago, if you'd
given me tbe opportunity"
Pray coae to tbe point, sir," said Mrs. Sheppard,
somewhat alarmed by tbis preamble.
“I am coming to the point, Joan. The more haste,
tbe worse speed - better the feet slip than the tongue.
However, to cut a long matter short, my proposal's
this: I've taken a fancy to your bantling, and, as I've
no son of my owo, if it meets with your concurrence
and that of Mrs. Wood (for I never do anything without
consulting my better half), I'll take the boy, educate
binn, and bring him up to my own business of a
carpenter.”
The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her
child closer to her breast.
"Well, Joan," said the benevolent mechanic, after
he had looked at her steadfastly for a few moments,
what say you !-silence gives consent, eh?”
Mrs. Sheppard made an effort to speak, but her voice
was choked by emotion.
“Shall I take the babby home with me?” persisted
Wood, in a tone between jest and earnest.
“I cannot part with him," replied the widow, burst-
ing into tears; “indeed, indeed, I cannot.”
“So I've found out the way to move her,” thought
the carpenter; "those tears will do her some good,
at all events. Not part with him!” he added aloud.
"Why, you wouldn't stand in the way of his good
fortune, surely? I'll be a second father to him, I tell
you. Remember what the conjurer said.”
“I do remember it, sir," replied Mrs. Sheppard,
"and am most grateful for your offer. But I dare not
accept it.”


JACK SHEPPARD
" Dare not !” echoed the carpenter; "I don't under-
stand you, Joan."
“I mean to say, sir,” answered Mrs. Sheppard, in
a troubled voice, “that if I lost my child I should
lose all I have left in the world. I have neither
father, mother, brother, sister, nor husband--I have
only him.”
"If I ask you to part with him, my good woman,
it's to better his condition, I suppose, ain't it?" rejoined
Wood angrily; for, though he had no serious intention
of carrying his proposal into effect, he was rather
offended at having it declined. “It's not an offer,"
he continued, “that I'm likely to make, or you're likely
to receive, every day in the year.”
And muttering some remarks, which it is needless
to repeat, reflecting upon the consistency of the sex,
he was preparing once more to depart, when Mrs.
Sheppard stopped him.
“Give me till to-morrow," implored she, “and if I
can bring myself to part with him, you shall have him
without another word.”
“Take time to consider of it,” replied Wood sulkily;
" there's no hurry.”
“Don't be angry with me, sir,” cried the widow,
sobbing bitterly; "pray don't. I know I am unde-
serving of your bounty; but if I were to tell you
what hardships I have undergone—to what frightful
extremities I have been reduced-and to what infamy
I have submitted, to earn a scanty subsistence for this
child's sake--if you could feel what it is to stand
alone in the world as I do, bereft of all who have ever
loved me, and shunned by all who have ever known
me, except the worthless and the wretched—if you
knew (and Heaven grant you may be spared the
knowledge !) how much affliction sharpens love, and
how much more dear to me my child has become for
every sacrifice I have made for him—if you were


JACK SHEPPARD
II
told all this, you would, I am sure, pity rather than
reproach me because I cannot at once consent to a
separation which I feel would break my heart. But
give me till tomorrow-ooly till to-morrow-I may
be able to part with him then.”
The worthy carpenter was now far more angry with
himself thao he had previously been with Mrs. Shep-
pard; and, as 8000 as he could command his feelings,
which were coasiderably excited by the mention of her
distresses, he squeezed her hand warmly, bestowed a
hearty execration upon his own inhumanity, and swore
he would neither separate her from her child nor
suffer any one else to separate them.
Plague on't !” he added; “I dever meant to take
your babby from you. But Id a mind to try whether
you really loved him as much as you pretended. I
was to blame to carry the matter so far. However,
confession of a fault makes half amends for it. A time
may come when this little chap will need my aid, and,
depend upon it, he shall never want a friend in Owen
Wood.”
As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of
the little object of his benevolent professions, and,
in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his
slumbers. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the
child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then,
alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy
cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses
of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny
arms, as if imploring protection.
“I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part
with him," observed Mrs. Sheppard, smiling through
ber tears.
“I don't think he would," acquiesced the carpenter.
"No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no
other.”
“And that's true," rejoined Mrs. Sheppard; "for if


I 2
JACK SHEPPARD
I had not been a mother, I would not have survived
the day on which I became a widow."
“You mustn't think of that, Mrs. Sheppard,” said
Wood, in a soothing tone.
“I can't help thinking of it, sir," answered the
widow. “I can never get poor Tom's last look out
of my head, as he stood in the Stone Hall at Newgate,
after his irons had been knocked off, unless I
manage
to stupefy myself somehow. The dismal tolling of
Saint Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears
-oh!”
“If that's the case," observed Wood, “I'm surprised
you should like to have such a frightful picture con-
stantly in view as that over the chimney-piece.”
“I'd good reasons for placing it there, sir; but don't
question me about them now, or you'll drive me mad,"
returned Mrs. Sheppard wildly.
"Well, well, we'll say no more about it,” replied
Wood ; "and, by way of changing the subject, let me
advise you on no account to fly to strong waters for
consolation, Joan. One nail drives out another, it's
true, but the worst nail you can employ is a cotfin-nail.
Gin Lane's the nearest road to the churchyard.”
“It may be; but if it shortens the distance and
lightens the journey, I care not,” retorted the widow,
who seemed by this reproach to be roused into sudden
eloquence. “To those who, like me, have never been
able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life,
the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach
it the better. The spirit I drink may be poison-it
may kill me-perhaps it is killing me :—but so would
hunger, cold, misery—so would my own thoughts. I
should have gone mad without it. Gin is the poor
man's friend-his sole set-off against the rich man's
luxury. It comforts him when he is most forlorn. It
may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of futuro
woo; but it ensures present happiness, and that is


JACK SHEPPARD
13
22
66 Do
sufficient. When I have traversed the streets a house-
less wanderer, driven with curses from every door where
I buve solicited alms, and with blows from every gate-
way where I have sought shelter—when I have crept
into some deserted building, and stretched my weary
limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose-or
worse than all, when frenzied with want, I have yielded
to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only
way I could earn one-when I have felt, at times like
these, my heart sink within me, I have drunk of this
drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty,
my guilt. Old thoughts, old feelings, old faces, and
old scenes have returned to me, and I have fancied
myself happy-as happy as I am now.” And she
burst into a wild, hysterical laugh.
“Poor creature ! ” ejaculated Wood. you call
this frantic glee happiness ?”
“It's all the happiness I have known for years,”
returned the widow, becoming suddenly calm, "and
it's short-lived enough, as you perceive. I tell you
what, Mr. Wood," she added, in a bollow voice, and
with a ghastly look, “gin may bring ruin ; but as
long as poverty, vice, and ill-usage exist, it will be
drunk.”
“God forbid !” exclaimed Wood fervently. And,
as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added with
some precipitation, " But I must be going; I've stayed
here too long already. You shall hear from me to
morrow."
“Stay,” said Ms. Sheppard, again arresting his
departure. "I've just recollected that my husband
leſt a key with me, wbich be charged me to give to
you when I could find an opportunity.”
“A key !” exclaimed Wood eagerly. “I lost a very
valuable one some time ago. What's it like, Joan ?”
“It's a small key, with curiously-fashioned wards.”
“It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. “Well,


14
JACK SHEPPARD
who'd have thought of finding it in this unexpected
way!”
Don't be too sure, till you see it,” said the widow.
“Shall I fetch it for you, sir?”
“By all means," replied the carpenter.
“I must trouble you to hold the child, then, for a
minute, while I run up to the garret, where I have
hidden it for safety," said Mrs. Sheppard. "I think
I may trust him with you, sir,” she added, taking up
the candle.
“Don't leave him if you're at all fearful, my dear,”
replied Wood, receiving the little burden with a laugh.
“Poor thing!” he muttered, as the widow departed on
her errand, "she's seen better days and better circum-
stances than she'll ever see again, I'm sure. Strange!
I could never learn her history. Tom Sheppard was
always a close file, and would never tell whom he
married. Of this I'm certain, however, she was much
too good for him, and was never meant to be a journey-
man-carpenter's wife, still less what she is now. Her
heart's in the right place, at all events; and, since that's
the case, the rest may perhaps come round-that is,
if she gets through her present illness. A dry cough's
the trumpeter of death. If that's true, she's not long
for this world. As to this little fellow, in spite of the
Dutchman, who, in my opinion, is more of a Jacobite
than a conjurer, and more of a knave than either, he
shall never mount a horse foaled by an acorn, if I can
help it."
The course of the carpenter's meditations was here
interrupted by a loud note of lamentation from the
child, who, disturbed by the transfer, and not receiving
the gentle solace to which he was ordinarily accustomed,
raised his voice to the utmost, and exerted his feeble
strength to escape.
For a few moments Mr. Wood
dandled his little charge to and fro, after the most
approved nursery fashion, essaying at the mme time


JACK SHEPPARD
15
the soothing influence of an infantine melody proper to
the occasion; but failing in his design, he soon lost all
patience, and being, as has before been hinted, rather
irritable, though extremely well meaning, he lifted the
unhappy bantling in the air, and shook him with so
much goodwill, that he had well-nigh silenced him
most effectually. A brief calm succeeded. But with
returning breath came returning vociferations; and the
carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour
by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the
door, and walked out.
I
The Old Mint.
MRS. SAEPPARD's habitation terminated a row of old
ruinous buildings, called Wheeler's Rents; a dirty
thoroughfare, part street, and part lane, running from
Mint Street, through a variety of turnings, and along
the brink of a deep kennel, skirted by a number of
petty and neglected gardens in the direction of Saint
George's Fields. The neighbouring houses were ten-
anted by the lowest order of insolvent traders, thieves,
mendicants, and other worthless and nefarious char-
acters, who fled thither to escape from their creditors,
or to avoid the punishment due to their different
offences ; for it may be observed that the Old Mint,
although divested of some of its privileges as a
sanctuary by a recent statute passed in the reign of
William the Third, still presented a safe asylum to the
debtor, and even continued to do so until the middle
of the reign of George the First, when the crying
nature of the evil called loudly for a remedy, and
another and more sweeping enactment entirely took


16
JACK SHEPPARD
away
its immunities. In consequence of the eocoarage-
ment thus offered to dishonesty, and the security
afforded to crime, this quarter of the borough of
Southwark was accounted (at the period of this oarra-
tive) the grand receptacle of the superfluous villaing
of the metropolis. Infested by every description of
vagabond and miscreant, it was perhaps a few degrees
worse than the rookery near Saint Giles', and the
desperate neighbourhood of Saffron Hill at the present
time. And yet, on the very side of the sordid teue-
ments and squalid courts above mentioned, where the
felon openly made his dwelling, aud the fraudulent
debtor laughed the object of his kuavcry to scorna
on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely
residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of
Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and
whose memory breathes of loyalty aod velour. Sulfulk
House, as Brandon's palace was denominated, was
subsequently converted into a miot by his royal
brother-in-law, Henry the Eighth; and, after its de-
molition, and the removal of the place of coinage to
the Tower, the name was still continued to the district
in which it had been situated.
Old and dilapidated, the widow's domicile looked
the very picture of desolation and misery. Nothing
more forlorn could be conceived. The roof was partially
untiled; the chimneys were tottering; the side-walls
bulged, and were supported by a piece of timber propped
against the opposite house; the glass in most of the
windows was broken, and its place supplied with paper;
while in some cases the very frames of the windows had
been destroyed, and the apertures were left free to the
airs of heaven. On the ground floor the shutters were
closed, or, to speak more correctly, altogether pailed
up, and presented a very singular appearance, being
patched all over with the soles of old shoes, rusty
hobnails, and bits of iron hoops, the ingenious device


JACK SHEPPARD
17
of the former occupant of the apartment, Paul Groves,
the cobbler, to whom allusion has already been made.
It was owing to the untimely end of this poor fellow
that Mrs. Sheppard was enabled to take possession of
the premises. In a fit of despondency, brought on by
drunkenness, he made away with himself; and when
the body was discovered, after a lapse of some months,
such was the impression produced by the spectacle
such the alarm occasioned by the crazy state of the
building, and, above all, the terror inspired by strange
and unearthly noises heard during the night, which
were, of course, attributed to the spirit of the suicide,
that the place speedily enjoyed the reputation of being
haunted, and was, consequently, entirely abandoned.
In this state Mrs. Sheppard found it, and, as no one
opposed her, she at once took up her abode there; nor
was she long in discovering that the dreaded sounds
proceeded from the nocturnal gambols of a legion
of rats.
A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communi-
cated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage,
under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his
little burden, to whom it will be necessary to return.
As Mrs. Sheppard did not make her appearance
quite so soon as he expected, the carpenter became a
a little fidgety, and, having succeeded in tranquilising
the child, he thought proper to walk so far down the
entry as would enable him to reconnoitre the upper
windows of the house. A light was visible in the
garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere,
for the night was raw and overcast. This light did
not remain stationary; but could be seen at one moment
glimmering through the rents in the roof, and at another
shining through the cracks in the wall, or the broken
panes
of the casement. Wood was unable to discover
the figure of the widow; but he recognised her dry,
hacking cough, and was about to call her down if she


18
JACK SHEPPARD
could not find the key, as be imagined must be the
case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest,
or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor.
Before Wood bad time to inquire into the cause of
this sound, his attention was diverted by a man, who
rushed past the entry with the swiftness of desperation.
This individual apparently met with some impediment
to his further progress, for he had not proceeded many
steps when he turned suddenly about, and darted up
the
passage in which Wood stood
Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations-for he was
completely out of breath-the fugitive placed a bundle
in the arms of the carpenter, aod, regardless of the
consternation he excited in the breast of that personage,
who was almost stupefied with astonishment, he began
to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which
he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his
sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of
his
pursuers.
The appearance of the new-comer was extremely
prepossessing, and, after his trepidation had a little
subsided, Wood began to regard him with some degree
of interest. Evidently in the flower of his age,
scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than
comeliness of feature; and though his attire was plain
and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only
by one belonging to the higher ranks of society. His
figure was tall and commanding, and the expression of
his countenance (though somewhat disturbed by his
recent exertion) resolute and stern.
At this juncture, a cry burst from the child, who,
nearly smothered by the weight imposed upon him,
only recovered the use of his lungs as Wood altered
the position of the bundle. The stranger turned his
head at the sound.
“By Heaven !” he cried, in a tone of surprise, "you
bave an infant there !"
he was


JACK SHEPPARD
19
- It's
"To be sure I have,” replied Wood angrily; for,
finding that the intentions of the stranger were pacific
so far as he was concerned, he thought he might safely
venture on a slight display of spirit. very
well
you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with
this confounded clothes-bag. But some people have
no consideration."
“That child may be the means of saving me,”
muttered the stranger, as if struck by a new idea; “I
shall gain time by the expedient. Do you live here?”
“Not exactly," answered the carpenter.
“No matter. The door is open, so it is needless to
ask leave to enter. Ha !” exclaimed the stranger, as
shouts and other vociferations resounded at no great
distance along the thoroughfare, “not a moment is to
be lost. Give me that precious charge,” he added,
snatching the bundle from Wood. "If I escape, I
will reward you. Your name?”
“Owen Wood,” replied the carpenter.
reason to be ashamed of it. And now, a fair exchange,
sir. Yours ? "
The stranger hesitated. The shouts drew nearer,
and lights were seen flashing ruddily against the sides
and gables of the neighbouring houses.
"My name is Darrell,” said the fugitive hastily.
“But if you are discovered, answer no questions, as
you value your life. Wrap yourself in my cloak, and
keep it. Remember! not a word ! ”
So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's
shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and ex-
tinguished the light. A moment afterwards, the door
was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself
alone.
Mercy on us !” he cried, as a thrill of apprehension
ran through his frame.
“The Dutchman was right,
after all."
This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the
“I've no
66


20
JACK SHEPPARD
discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed
past his ears.
“I have him!” cried a voice, in triumph.
A man then rushed up the entry, and, seizing the
unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn
gword to his throat. This person was speedily fol-
lowed by half-a-dozen others, some of whom carried
flambeaux.
“Mur-der !” roared Wood, struggling to free him-
self from his assailant, by whom he was half strangled.
“ Damnation !” exclaimed one of the leaders of the
party, in a furious tone, snatching a torch from an
attendant, and throwing its light full upon the face of
the carpenter; “this is not the villain, Sir Cecil.”
“So I find, Rowland,” replied the other, in accents
of deep disappointment, and at the same time relin-
quishing his grasp.
“I could have sworn I saw him
entor this passage. And how comes his cloak on this
knave's shoulders ? ”
“It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland.
** farkye, sirrah,” continued he, haughtily interrogating
Wood;
“where is the person from whom you received
this mantle?”
“ Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer
questions," replied the carpenter doggedly. “You'll
get nothing out of me, I can promise you, unless you
show a little more civility."
“We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir
Cecil, “and may lose the object of our quest, who,
beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building. Let
us search it."
Just then, the infant began to sob piteously.
“Hist!” cried Rowland, arresting his comrade.
“Do
you hear that? We are not wholly at fault. The dog-
fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found.”
With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's
back, and, perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize


JACK SHEPPARD
21
it. In this attempt he was, however, foiled by the
agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat to the
door, against which he 'placed his back, kicking the
pards vigorously with his heel.
“Joan! Joan!” he vociferated, “open the door, for
God's sake, or I shall be murdered, and so will your
babby! Open the door quickly, I say."
“Knock bim on the head," thundered Sir Cecil,
or
we shall have the watch upon us.”
“No fear of that,” rejoined Rowland; "such vermin
never dare show themselves in this privileged district.
All we have to apprehend is a rescue.”
The bint was not lost upon Wood. He tried to raise
an outcry, but his throat was again forcibly griped by
Rowland.
“Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you
are a dead man. Yield up the babe, and I pledge my
word you shall remain unmolested.”
“I will yield it to no one but its mother,” answered
Wood.
“ 'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah ?” cried
Rowland fiercely. “Give me the child, or-
As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs.
Sheppard staggered forward. She looked paler than
ever; but her countenance, though bewildered, did not
exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been
anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene
presented to her view.
“Take it,” cried Wood, holding the infant towards
her; “take it, and fly.”
Mrs. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. But,
before the child could be committed to her care, it was
wrested from the carpenter by Rowland.
“These people are all in league with him," cried the
latter. “But don't wait for me, Sir Cecil. Enter the
house with your men.
I'll dispose of the brat.”
This injunction was instantly obeyed. The knight
"


22
JACK SHEPPARD
and his followers crossed the threshold, leaving one of
the torch-bearers behind them.
Davies,” said Rowland, delivering the babe, with
a meaning look, to his attendant.
“I understand, your honour,” replied Davies, draw-
ing a little aside. And, setting down the link, he
proceeded to untie his cravat.
“My God! will you see your child strangled before
your eyes, and not so much as scream for help?” said
Wood, staring at the widow with a look of surprise
and horror. “Woman, your wits are fled.”
And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make
was to murmur distractedly, “I can't find the key.”
"Devil take the key!" ejaculated Wood. “They're
about to murder your child—your child, I tell you !
Do you comprehend what I say, Joan?"
"I've hurt my head," replied Mrs. Sheppard, pressing
her hand to her temples.
And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small
stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek.
At this moment Davies who had completed his
preparations, extinguished the torch.
“It's all over,” groaned Wood, “and perhaps it's as
well her senses are gone. However, I'll make a last
affort to save the poor little creature, if it costs me
my life.”
And with this generous resolve, he shouted at the
top of his voice, “ Arrest! arrest! help! help!” second-
ing the words with a shrill and peculiar cry, well
known at the time to the inhabitants of the quarter
in which it was uttered.
In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown
at the corner of the street.
“Arrest,” vociferated Wood. “ Mint! Mint!
** Death and hell!” cried Rowland, making a furious
pass at the carpenter, who fortunately avoided the
thrust in the darkness; “will nothing silence you!"


JACK SHEPPARD
23
"Help!” ejaculated Wood, renewing his crios.
« Arrest!”
Jigger closed !” shouted a hoarse voice in reply.
All's bowman, my covey. Fear nothing. We'll be upon
the bandogs before they can shake their trotters !”
And the alarum was sounded more loudly than ever.
Another horn now resounded from the farther ex-
tremity of the thoroughfare; this was answered by a
third ; and presently a fourth, and more remote blast,
took
up
tbe note of alarm. The whole neighbourhood
was disturbed. A garrison called to arms at dead of
night on the sudden approach of the enemy could not
have been more expeditiously or effectually aroused.
Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at
the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors un-
barred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantane
ously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed
with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and
dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped
on. Hurrying in the direction of the supposed arrest,
they encouraged each other with shouts, and threatened
the offending parties with vengeance.
Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were
(for, indeed, they had become habituated from their
frequent occurrence to such scenes) of any outrages
committed in their streets ; deaf, as they had been, to
the recent scuffle before Mrs. Sheppard's door, they
were always sufficiently on the alert to maintain their
privileges, and to assist each other against the attacks
of their common enemy—the sheriff's officer. It was
only by the adoption of such a course (especially since
the late act of suppression, previously alluded to) that
the inviolability of the asylum could be preserved.
Incursions were often made upon its territories by
the functionaries of the law, sometimes attended with
Buccess, but more frequently with discomfiture; and it
rarely happened, unless by stratagem or bribery, that


24
JACK SHEPPARD
(in the language of the gentlemen of the short staff)
an important caption could be effected. In order to
guard against accidents or surprises, watchmen or scouts
(as they were styled) were stationed at the three main
outlets of the sanctuary, ready to give the signal in
the manner just described ; bars were erected, which,
in case of emergency, could be immediately stretched
across the streets; doors were attached to the alleys,
and were never opened without due precautions; gates
were affixed to the courts, wickets to the gates, and
bolts to the wickets. The back windows of the houses
(where any such existed) were strongly barricaded, and
kept constantly shut; and the fortress was, further-
more, defended by high walls and deep ditches in
those quarters where it appeared most exposed. There
was also a maze (the name is still retained in the
district) into which the debtor could run, and through
the intricacies of which it was impossible for an officer
to follow him without a clue.
Whoever chose to incur the risk of so doing might
enter the Mint at any hour; but no one was suffered
to depart without giving a satisfactory account of him-
self, or producing a pass from the Master. In short,
every contrivance that ingenuity could devise was
resorted to by this horde of reprobates to secure them-
selves from danger or molestation. Whitefriars had
lost its privileges ; Salisbury Court and the Savoy no
longer offered places of refuge to the debtor ; and it
was, therefore, doubly requisite that the Island of
Bermuda (as the Mint was termed by its occupants)
should uphold its rights as long as it was able to
do sa
Mr. Wood, meantime, had not remained idle. Aware
that not a moment was to be lost, if he meant to render
any effectual assistance to the child, he ceased shout-
ing, and defending himself in the best way he could
from the attacks of Rowland, by whom he was closely


JACK SHEPPARD
25
pressed, forced his' way, in spite of all opposition, to
Davies, and dealt him a blow on the head with such
good-will, that, had it not been for the intervention
of the wall, the ruffian must have been prostrated.
Before he could recover from the stunning effects of
the blow, Wood possessed himself of the child, and,
antying the noose which had been slipped round its
throat, he had the satisfaction of hearing it cry lustily.
At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared
at the threshold.
“He has escaped !” exclaimed the knight; “we
have searched every corner of the house without
finding a trace of him."
“Back !” cried Rowland. “Don't you hear those
shouts? Yon fellow's clamour has brought the whole
horde of gaolbirds and cutthroats that infest this
place about our ears. We shall be torn in pieces if
we are discovered. Davies !” he added, calling to the
attendant, who was menacing Wood with a severe
retaliation, “don't heed him; but, if you value a
whole skin, come into the house, and bring that
woman with you. She may afford us some necessary
information."
Davies reluctantly complied. And, dragging Mrs.
Sheppard, who made no resistance, along with him,
entered the house, the door of which was instantly
shut and barricaded.
A moment afterwards the street was illumined by a
blaze of torchlight, and a tumultuous uproar, mixed
with the clashing of weapons, and the braying of
horns, announced the arrival of the first detachment
of Minters.
Mr. Wood rushed instantly to meet them.
“Hurrah !" he shouted, waving his hat triumphantly
over his head.
“ Saved!”
“Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough,
that's certain ! ” responded the Minters, baying, yelping,


26
JACK SHEPPARD
>>
leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds
when the huntsman is beating cover. “But wbere
are the lurchers ?”
“Who?” asked Wood.
"The traps ! ” responded a bystander.
“The shoulder-clappers !” added a lady who, in
her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally
substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her
own petticoats.
“The bandogs !” thundered a tall
man, whose
stature and former avocations had procured him the
nickname of the Long Drover of the Borough Market.
“Where are they?”
“Ay, where are they?” chorused the mob, flourish-
ing their various weapons and flashing their torches in
the air ; “we'll sarve 'em out."
Mr. Wood trembled. He felt he had raised a storm
which it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to
allay. He knew not what to say, or what to do; and
his confusion was increased by the threatening gestures
and furious looks of the ruffians in his immediate
vicinity.
“I don't understand you, gentlemen,” he stammered
at length.
“What does he say?” roared the Long Drover,
“He says he don't understand flash,” replied the lady
in gentleman's attire.
"Cease your confounded clutter !” said a young
man, whose swarthy visage, seen in the torchlight,
struck Wood as being that of a Mulatto. “ You
frighten the cull out of his senses. It's plain be don't
understand our lingo; as, how should he ?
Take
pattern by me," and, as he said this, he strode up to
the carpenter, and slapping him on the shoulder, pro-
pounded the following questions, accompanying each
interrogation with a formidable contortion of counten-
“Curse you! where are the bailiffs ?
Rot you!
ance :


JACR SHEPPARË
37
have you lost your 'congue? Devil seize you ! you
could bawl loud enough a moment ago !”
“Silence, Blueskin!” interposed an authoritative
voice immediately behind the ruffian. “Let me have
a word with the cull!”
“Ay, ay !” cried several of the bystanders, "let
Jonathan kimbaw the cove. He's got the gift of the
gab."
The crowd, accordingly, drew aside, and the indi-
vidual, in whose behalf the movement had been made,
immediately stepped forward. He was a young man
of about two-and-twenty, who, without having anything
remarkable either in dress or appearance, was yet a
noticeable person, if only for the indescribable expression
of cunning pervading his countenance.
His eyes were
small and grey; as far apart and as sly-looking as those
of a fox. A physiognomist, indeed, would have likened
him to that crafty animal, and it must be owned the
general formation of his features favoured such a com-
parision. The nose was long and sharp; the chin
pointed; the forehead broad and flat, and connected,
without any intervening hollow, with the eyelid; the
teeth, when displayed, seemed to reach from ear to ear.
Then his beard was of a reddish hue, and his com-
plexion warm and sanguine. Those who had seen him
slumbering averred that he slept with his eyes open.
But this might be merely a figurative mode of describ-
ing his customary vigilance. Certain it was, that the
slightest sound aroused him. This astute personage
was somewhat under the middle size; but fairly pro-
portioned, inclining rather to strength than symmetry,
and abounding more in muscle than in flesh.
It would seem from the attention which he evidently
bestowed upon the hidden and complex machinery of
the grand system of villainy at work around him, that
his chief object in taking up his quarters in the Mint
must have been to obtain some private information


28
JACK SHEPPARD
respecting the habits and practices of its inhabitants, to
be turned to account hereafter.
Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen
grey eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone,
whether the persons who had taken refuge in the
adjoining house were bailiffs.
“Not that I know of," replied the carpenter, who
had in some degree recovered his confidence.
“Then I presume you've not been arrested ?"
“I have not,” answered Wood firmly.
“I guessed as much. Perhaps you'll next inform
us why you have occasioned this disturbance ?”
“Because this child's life was threatened by the
persons you have mentioned.”
“ An excellent reason i' faith!” exclaimed Blueskin,
with a roar of surprise and indignation, which was
echoed by the whole assemblage. “ And so we are to
be summoned from our beds and snug firesides because
a kid happens to squall, eh? By the soul of my grand-
mother, but this is too good.”
“Do you intend to claim the privileges of the Mint ?”
inquired Jonathan, calmly pursuing his interrogations
amid the uproar.
Is
your person in danger ?"
“Not from my creditors,” replied Wood significantly.
“Will he post the cole? Will he come down with
the dues ? Ask him that,” cried Blueskin.
“ You hear,” pursued Jonathan; “my friend desires
to know if you are willing to pay your footing as a
member of the ancient and respectable fraternity of
debtors ?"
“I owe no man a farthing, and my name shall never
appear in any such rascally list,” replied Wood angrily.
"I don't see why I should be obliged to pay for doing
my duty. I tell you this child would have been
strangled. The noose was at its throat when I called
for help.
I knew it was in vain to cry 'murder !' in
the Mint, so I had recourse to stratagem.”


JACK SHEPPARD
29
for
“Well, sir, I must say you deserve some credit for
your ingenuity, at all events,” replied Jonathan, re-
pressing a smile ; " but before you put out your foot so
far, it would have been quite as prudent to consider how
you were to draw it back again. For my own part, I
don't see in what way it is to be accomplished, except
by the payment of our customary fees. Do not imagine
you can at one moment avail yourself of our excellent
regulations (with which you seem sufficiently well ac-
quainted), and the next break them with impunity. If
you assume the character of a debtor for your own con-
venience, you must be content to maintain it for ours.
If you have not been arrested, we have been disturbed ;
and it is but just and reasonable you should pay
occasioning such disturbance. By your own showing
you are in easy circumstances--for it is only natural
to presume that a man who owes nothing must be in a
condition to pay liberally—and you cannot therefore
feel the loss of such a trifle as ten guineas.”
However illogical and inconclusive these arguments
might appear to Mr. Wood, and however he might
dissent from the latter proposition, he did not deem it
expedient to make any reply; and the orator proceeded
with his harangue amid the general applause of the
assemblage.
"I am perhaps exceeding my authority in demanding
80 slight a sum,” continued Jonathan modestly, “and the
Master of the Mint may not be disposed to let you off
so lightly. He will be here in a moment, and you will
then learn his determination. In the meantime, let me
advise you as a friend not to irritate him by a refusal,
which would be as useless as vexatious. He has a
very summary mode of dealing with refractory persons,
I assure you. My best endeavours shall be used to
bring you off on the easy terms I have mentioned.”
“Do
you call ten guineas easy terms ?” cried Wood,
with a look of dismay. “Why, I should expect to


30
JACK SHEPPARD
purchase the entire freehold of the Mint for legs
money."
“Many a man has been glad to pay double the
amount to get his head from under the Mint pump,”
observed Blueskin grufily.
“Let the gentleman take his own course,” said
Jonathan mildly; "I should be sorry to persuade him
to do anything his calmer judgment might disapprove.”
“Exactly my sentiments," rejoined Blueskin. “I
wouldn't force him for the world; but if he don't tip
the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of
the aqua pompaginis. Let's have a look at the kinchen
that ought to have been throttled," he added, snatching
the child from Wood. "My stars! here's a pretty
lullaby-cheat to make a fuss about-ho, ho!”
“Deal with me as you think proper, gentlemen,"
exclaimed Wood; “ but for mercy's sake don't harm
the child! Let it be taken to its mother."
“And who is its mother ?” asked Jonathan, in an
eager whisper. “Tell me frankly, and speak under
your breath. Your own safety--the child's safety-
depends upon your candour."
While Mr. Wood underwent this examination, Blue-
skin felt a small and trembling hand placed upon his
own, and turning at the summons, beheld a young
female, whose features were partially concealed by a
loo, or half-mask, standing beside him.
Coarse as
were the ruffian's notions of feminine beauty, he could
not be insensible to the surpassing loveliness of the
fair creature who had thus solicited his attention.
Her figure was, in some measure, hidden by a large
scarf, and a deep hood drawn over the head contributed
to her disguise; still it was evident, from her lofty
bearing, that she had nothing in common, except an
interest in their proceedings, with the crew ky whom
she was surrounded.
Whence she came who she was and what she


JACK SHEPPARD
31
wanted -- were questions which naturally suggested
themselves to Blueskin, and he was about to seek for
some explanation, when his curiosity was checked by
a gesture of silence from the lady.
“ Hush !” she said, in a low but agitated voice;
“would you earn this purse ?"
"I've no objection," replied Blueskin, in a tone in-
tended to be gentle, but which sounded like the murmur-
ing whine of a playful bear. “How much is there in it?"
"It contains gold,” replied the lady; "but I will
add this ring."
What am I to do to earn it ?" asked Blueskin,
with a disgusting leer; "cut a throat-
or throw
myself at your feet- eh, my dear ?"
“Give me that child,” returned the lady, with diffi-
culty overcoming the loathing inspired hy the ruffian's
familiarity.
“Oh! I see!” replied Blueskin, winking signifi-
cantly. “Come nearer-mor they'll observe us. Don't
be afraid I won't hurt you. I'm always agreeable to
the women, bless their kind hearts ! Now! slip the
purse into my hand. Bravo !-the best cly-faker of
'em all couldn't have done it better. And now for
the fawney-the ring, I mean. I'm no great judge of
these articles, ma'am; but I trust to your honour not
to palm off paste upon me.”
“It is a diamond,” said the lady, in an agony of
distress; "the child."
“A diamond! Here, take the kid,” cried Blueskin,
slipping the infant adroitly under her scarf.
80 this is a diamond," he added, contemplating the
brilliant from the hollow of his hand , "it does sparkle
almost as brightly as your ogles. By-the-bye, my dear,
I forgot to ask your name -- perhaps you'll oblige me
with it now? Hell and the devil !-gone!”
He looked around in vain. The lady had disappeared.
6 And


33
JACK SHEPPARD
III
The Master of the Mint.
JONATHAN, meanwhile, having ascertained the paren-
tage of the child from Wood, proceeded to question
him, in an undertone, as to the probable motives of
the attempt upon its life; and though he failed in
obtaining any information on this point, he had little
difficulty in eliciting such particulars of the mysterious
transaction as have already been recounted. When
the carpenter concluded his recital, Jonathan was for
a moment lost in reflection.
“Devilish strange!” he thought, chuckling to him-
self ; " queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the
cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt
for his own-capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though.
He must be a sly fox to get out of the Mint without
my knowledge. I've a shrewd guess where he's taken
refuge; and I'll soon ferret him out. These bloods will
pay well for his capture ; if not, he'll pay well to get
out of their hands; so I'm safe either way-ha! ha!
Blueskin,” he added aloud, and motioning that worthy,
“ follow me.
Upon which, he set off in the direction of the entry.
His progress, however, was checked by loud acclama
tions, announcing the arrival of the Master of the Mint
and his train.
Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was
a “goodly, portly man, and a corpulent,” whose fair
round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for
good liquor and good living. He had a quick, shrewd,
merry eye, and a look in which duplicity was agreeably
veiled by good-humour. It was easy to discover that
he was a knave, but equally easy to perceive that he
>>


JACK SHEPPARD
33
was a pleasant fellow; a combination of qualities by
no means of rare occurrence. So far as regards his
attire, Baptist was not seen to advantage. No great
lover of state or state costume at any time, he was
generally, towards the close of an evening, completely
in dishabille, and in this condition he now presented
himself to his subjects. His shirt was unfastened, his
vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered ; his feet were
stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy
flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the
cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged
hat. A white apron was tied round his waist, and into
the apron was thrust a short thick truncheon, which
looked very much like a rolling-pin.
The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another
gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as
deliberate in his movements. The costume of this
personage was somewhat singular, and might have
passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imper-
turbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such
supposition. It consisted of a close jerkin of brown
frieze, ornamented with a triple row of brass buttons ;
loose Dutch slops, made very wide in the seat and very
tight at the knees; red stockings with black clocks;
and a fur cap. The owner of this dress had a broad,
weather-beaten face; small, twinkling eyes; and a bushy,
grizzled beard. Though he walked by the side of the
governor, he seldom exchanged a word with him, but
appeared wholly absorbed in the contemplations inspired
by a broad-bowled Dutch pipe.
Behind the illustrious personages just described
marched a troop of stalwart fellows, with white badges
in their hats, quarter-staves, oaken cudgels, and links
in their hands. These were the Master's body-guard.
Advancing towards the Master and claiming an
audience, which was instantly granted, Jonathan, with-
out much circumlocution, related the sum of the strange


34
JAK SHEPPARD
story he had just learnt from Wood, omitting nothing
except a few triling particulars, which he thought it
politic to keep back; and, with this view, he said not
a word of there being any probability of capturing the
fugitive, but on the contrary, roundly asserted that his
informant had witnessed that person's escape.
The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the
narrative, and at its conclusion shook his head gravely.
applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling
his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic com.
panion. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in
reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, aod
raising his band from the bowl of his pipe, went through
precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master.
Putting his own construction upon this mute inter-
change of opinions, Jonathan ventured to observe that
it certainly was a very perplexing case, but that he
thought something might be made of it, and, if left to
him, he would undertake to manage the matter to the
Master's entire satisfaction.
"Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Dutchman, removing
the pipe from his mouth, and speaking in a deep and
guttural voice, " leave the affair to Johannes. He'll
settle it brafely. And let ush go back to our brandewyn
and hollandsche genever. Dese ere not schouts, as you
faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed
to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, they'd have done
her a shervish, by shaving it from dat unpleashant
complaint, the hempen fever, vith vhich its laatter days
are threatened, and of vhich its poor vader died. Myn
Got, haanging runs in some families, Muntmeester.
It's hereditary, like de jigt, vat you call it-gout-
baw!haw!”
“If the child is destined to the gibbet, Van Galge-
brok," replied the Master, joining in the laugh, "it'll
never be choked by a footman's cravat, that's certain;
but, in regard to going back empty-handed," he con-


JACK SHEPPARD
35
tinued, altering his tone, and assuming a dignified air,
“it's quite out of the question. With Baptist Kettleby,
to engage in a matter is to go through with it. Besides,
this is an affair which no one but myself can settle.
Common offences may be decided upon by deputy ; but
outrages perpetrated by men of rank, as these appear
to be, must be judged by the Master of the Mint in
persoa. These are the decrees of the Island of Bermuda,
and I will never suffer its excellent laws to be violated.
Gentlemen of the Mint,” he added, pointing with his
truocheon towards Mrs. Sheppard's house," forward !”
“Hurrah!” shouted the mob, and the whole phalanx
was put in motion in that direction. At the same
moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cows' horns,
tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and catgut,
with other sprightly instruments, was struck up, and,
enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop
reached its destination in the best possible spirits for
an encounter.
“Let us in,” cried the Master, rapping his truncheon
authoritatively against the boards, " or we'll force an
entrance.”
But as no answer was returned to the summons,
though it was again, and more peremptorily, repeated,
Baptist seized a mallet from a bystander and burst
open the door. Followed by Van Galgebrok and others
of his retinue, he then rushed into the room, where
Rowland, Sir Cecil, and their attendants stood with
drawn swords prepared to receive them.
“Beat down their blades,” cried the Master ; “no
bloodshed.”
“Beat out their brains, you mean," rejoined Blue-
skin, with a tremendous imprecation; "no half-mea-
ow, Master."
" Hadn't you better hold a moment's parley with the
gentlemen before proceeding to extremities?” suggested
Jonathan.
97
sures


36
JACK SHEPPARD
Agreed,” responded the Master. “Surely," he
added, staring at Rowland, “either I'm greatly mis-
taken, or it is
"You are not mistaken, Baptist,” returned Rowland,
with a gesture of silence; "it is your old friend. I'm
glad to recognise you.'
“And I'm glad your worsbip's recogoition doesn't
come too late," observed the Master 'But why dida't
you make yourself known at once!”
“I'd forgotten the office you hold in the Miot,
Baptist,” replied Rowland But clear the room of
this rabble, if you have sufficient authority over them.
I would speak with you."
“ There's but one way of clearing it, your worship,”
said the Master archly.
"I understand," replied Rowland. “ Give them
what you please. I'll repay you."
“It's all right, pals," cried Baptist, in a loud tone;
“the gentlemen and I have settled matters. No more
sculing."
“ What's the meaning of all this ?” demanded Sir
Cecil. “How have you contrived to still these troubled
waters?"
“I've chanced upon an old ally in the Master of
the Mint," answered Rowland. “ We may trust him,"
he added, in a whisper ; “he is a staunch friend of the
good cause.
“ Blueskin, clear the room," cried the Master , “these
gentlemen would be private. They've paid for their
lodging Where's Jonathan?”
Inquiries were instantly made after that individual,
but he was nowbere to be found.
“Strange !” observed the Master; “I thought he'd
been at my elbow all this time. But it don't much
matter—though he's a devilish shrewd fellow, and
might have helped me out of a difficulty, had any
occurred. Harkye, Blueskin," he continued, addressing
3


JACK SHEPPARD
37
that personage, who, in obedience to his commands,
had, with great promptitude, driven out the rabble,
and again secured the door, "a word in your ear.
What female entered the house with us?"
“ Blood and thunder !” exclaimed Blueskio, atraid,
if be admitted having seen the lady, of being compelled
to divide the plunder he had obtained from her among
bis com papions, “bow should I know? D'ye suppose
l'un always thinking of the petticoats? I observed no
female. But if any one did join the assault, it must
bave been either Amazonian Kate, or Fighting Moll."
“The woman I mean did not join the assault,”
rejoined the Master, but rather seemed to sbun
observation; and, from the hasty glimpse I caught
of ber, sbe appeared to have a child in her arms.”
Then, most probably, it was widow Sheppard,”
answered Blueskin sulkily.
"Right," said the Master, “I didn't think of her.
And now I've another job for you.”
"Propose it," returned Blueskin, inclining his head.
Square accounts with the rascal who got up the
sham arrest. And, if he don't tip up the cole without
more ado, give him a taste of the pump, that's all.”
“He shall go through the whole course," replied
Blueskin, with a ferocious grin, "unless he comes down
to the last grig. We'll lather him with mud, shave
him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua
pompaginis. Master, your humble servant-Gentlemen,
your most obsequious trout.”
Having effected his object, which was to get rid of
Blueskin, Baptist turned to Rowland and Sir Cecil,
who had watched his proceedings with much impatience,
and remarked, “Now, gentlemen, the coast's clear;
we've nothing to interrupt us. I'm entirely at your
service."
92
B.


JACK SHEPPARD
IV
The Roof and the Windovo.
At the beginning of the affray, when he thought every
one was too much occupied with his own concerns to
remark his absence, Jonathan slipped out of the room,
not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for
cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he
had another object in view.
Creeping stealthily upstairs, unmasking a dark
lantern, and glancing into each room as he passed,
he was startled in one of them by the appearance of
Mrs. Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the
floor. Satisfied, however, that she did not notice him,
Jonathan glided away as noiselessly as he came, and
ascended another short flight of stairs leading to the
garret. As he crossed this chamber, his foot struck
against something on the floor, which nearly threw
him down, and, stooping to examine the object, he
found it was a key.
“ Never throw away a chance," he thought.
knows but this key may open a golden lock one of
these days?” And, picking it up, he thrust it into
his pocket.
Arrived beneath an aperture in the broken roof, he
was preparing to pass through, when he observed a
little heap of tiles upon the floor, which appeared to
have been recently dislodged. “He has passed this
way,” cried Jonathan exultingly; “I have him safe
enough.
.” He then closed the lantern, mounted without
much difficulty upon the roof, and proceeded cautiously
along the tiles.
The night was now profoundly dark. Jonathan
had to feel his way. A single false step might have
6 Who


JACK SHEPPARD
39
precipitated him into the street; or if he had trodden
upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen
through it. He had nothing to guide him; for though
the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam
fell only on the side of the building. The venturous
climber gazed for a moment at the assemblage beneath,
to ascertain that he was not discovered ; and, having
satisfied himself in this particular, be stepped out more
boldly. On gaining a stack of chimneys at the back
of the house, he came to a pause, and again unmasked
his lantern. Nothing, however, could be discerned
except the crumbling brickwork.
“Confusion !” ejaculated Jonathan;
can he have
escaped ? No. The walls are too high, and the windows
too stoutly barricaded in this quarter, to admit such a
supposition. He can't be far off. I shall find him yet.
Ah! I have it,” he added, after a moment's delibera-
tion; "he's there, I'll be sworn." And once more
enveloping himself in darkness, he pursued his course.
He had now reached the adjoining house, and scaling
the roof, approached another building, which seemed
to be, at least, one storey loftier than its neighbours.
Apparently, Jonathan was well acquainted with the
premises ; for, feeling about in the dark, he speedily
discovered a ladder, up the steps of which he hurried.
Drawing a pistol, and unclosing the lantern with the
quickness of thought, he burst through an open trap-
door into a small loft.
The light fell upon the fugitive, who stood before
him in an attitude of defence, with the child in his
arms.
Aba!” exclaimed Jonathan, acting upon the infor-
mation be had obtained from Wood, “I have found
Your servant, Mr. Darrell.”
“Who are you?” demanded the fugitive sternly.
A friend,” replied Jonathan, uncocking the pistol,
and placing it in his pocket.
you at last.


40
JACK SHEPPARD
66
“ Your
“How do I know you are a friend ?” asked Darrell.
" What should I do here alone if I were an enemy?
But come, don't let us waste time in bandying words,
when we might employ it so much more profitably.
Your life, and that of your child, are in my power.
What will you give me to save you from your pursuers?"
Can you
do so ?” asked the other doubtfully.
“I
can, and will. Now, the reward ?”
“I have but an ill-furnished purse. But if I escape,
my gratitude"
Pshaw!” interrupted Jonathan scornfully.
gratitude will vanish with your danger. Pay fools with
promises. I must have something in hand.”
“You shall have all I have about me," replied
Darrell.
“Well -- well,” grumbled Jonathan, “I suppose I
must be content. An ill-lined purse is a poor recom-
pense for the risk I have run. However, come along.
I needn't tell you to tread carefully. You know the
danger of this breakneck road as well as I do. The
light would betray us. So saying, he closed the
lantern.
“Harkye, sir," rejoined Darrell ; "one word before I
move. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot dis-
cern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. But
there is something in your voice that makes me distrust
you. If you attempt to play the traitor, you will do
so at the hazard of
your
life.”
“I have already hazarded my life in this attempt to
save you,” returned Jonathan boldly, and with apparent
frankness; "this ought to be sufficient answer to your
doubts. Your pursuers are below. What was to hinder
me, if I had been so inclined, from directing them to
your retreat ?"
“Enough,” replied the other. “ Lead on.”
Followed by Darrell, Jonathan retraced his dangerous
path. As he approached the gable of Mrs. Sheppard's


JACK SHEPPARD
41
to the pump
house, loud yells and vociferations reached his ears;
and, looking downwards, he perceived a great stir amid
the mob. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest.
Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Mr. Wood
The unfortunate carpenter struggled
violently, but ineffectually. His hat was placed upon
one pole, his wig on another. His shouts for help were
answered by roars of mockery and laughter. He con-
tinued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in
the kennel, until he was borne out of sight. The
spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to
Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. He could
not contain his satisfaction, but chuckled, and rubbed
his hands with delight.
“By Heaven !” cried Darrell, “it is the poor
fellow
whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. I
am the cause of his ill-usage.”
"To be sure you are," replied Jonathan, laughing.
But, what of that? It'll be a lesson to him in future,
and will show him the folly of doing a good-natured
action.”
But, perceiving that his companion did not relish
his pleasantry, and fearing that his sympathy for the
carpenter's situation might betray him into some act
of imprudence, Jonathan, without further remark, and
by way of putting an end to the discussion, let himself
drop through the roof. His example was followed by
Darrell. But, though the latter was somewhat em-
barrassed by his burden, he peremptorily declined
Jonathan's offer of assistance. Both, however, having
safely landed, they cautiously crossed the room, and
passed down the first flight of steps in silence. At this
moment a door was opened below ; lights gleamed on
the walls, and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were
listinguished at the foot of the stairs.
Darrell stopped and drew his sword.
“ You have betrayed me,” he said, in a deep whisper,


42
JACK SHEPPARD
to his companion ; “but you shall reap the reward of
your treachery."
“Be still ! ” returned Jonathan, in the same under-
tone, and with great self-possession ; “I can save you
yet. And see !” he added, as the figures drew back,
and the lights disappeared ; "it's a false alarm. They
have retired. However, not a moment is to be lost.
Give me your hand.”
He then hurried Darrell down another short flight
of steps, and entered a small chamber at the back of
the house. Closing the door, Jonathan next produced
his lantern, and, hastening towards the window, undrew
a bolt by which it was fastened. A stout wooden
shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a
grating of iron bars. This obstacle, which appeared
to preclude the possibility of egress in that quarter,
was speedily got rid of. Withdrawing another bolt,
and unhooking a chain suspended from the top of the
casement, Jonathan pushed the iron framework out-
wards. The bars dropped noiselessly and slowly down,
till the chain tightened at the staple.
“You are free,” he said; “that grating forms a
ladder, by which you may descend in safety. I learnt
the trick of the place from one Paul Groves, who used
to live here, and who contrived the machine. He
called it his fire-escape-ha! ha! I've often used the
ladder for my own convenience, but never expected to
turn it to such good account. And now, sir, have I
kept faith with you ?”
“You have," replied Darrell.
“Here is my purso.
And I trust you will let me know to whom I am
indebted for this important service.”
“It matters not who I am,” replied Jonathan, taking
“As I said before, I have little reliance
upon professions of gratitude."
“I know not how it is,” sighed Darrell, “but
I feel an unaccountable misgiving at quitting this
the money


JACK SHEPPARD
43
placo. Something tells me I am rushing on greater
danger."
“You know best, sir," replied Jonathan sneeringly;
" but, if I were in your place, I would take the chance
of a future and uncertain risk to avoid a present and
certain peril."
“You are right,” replied Darrell ; " the weakness is
past. Which is the nearest way to the river ?”
Why, it's an awkward road to direct you," returned
Jonathan. “But if you turn to the right when you
reach the ground, and keep close to the Mint wall,
you'll speedily arrive at White Cross Street; White
Cross Street, if you turn again to the right, will bring
you into Queen Street; Queen Street, bearing to the
left, will conduct you to Deadman's Place; and Dead-
mao's Place to the waterside, not fifty yards from Saint
Saviour's Stairs, where you're sure to get a boat.”
“The very point I aim at,” said Darrell, as he
passed through the outlet.
“Stay!" said Jonathan, aiding his descent; "you
had better take my lantern. It may be useful to you.
Perhaps you'll give me in return some token by which
I may remind you of this occurrence, in case we meet
again. Your glove will suffice.”
“There it is," replied the other, tossing him the
glove. “Are you sure these bars touch the ground ?”
They come within a yard of it,"answered Jonathan.
“Safe !” shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure
landing. “Good-night!”
“So," muttered Jonathan, “having started the bare,
I'll now unleash the hounds."
With this praiseworthy determination, he was hasten-
ing downstairs with the utmost rapidity, when he
encountered a female, whom he took, in the darkness,
to be Mrs. Sheppard. The person caught hold of his
arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself,
detained him.


44
JACK SHEPPARD
"Where is he?" she asked, in an agitated whisper.
“I heard his voice; but I saw them on the stairs, and
durst not approach him, for fear of giving the alarm.”
"If you mean the fugitive, Darrell, he has escaped
through the back window,” replied Jonathan.
Thank Heaven !” she gasped.
“Well, you women are forgiving creatures, I must
say," observed Jonathan sarcastically. “You tback
Heaven for the escape of the man who did bis best
to get your child's neck twisted.”
“What do you mean ?" asked the female ja astonish-
ment.
“I mean what I say," replied Jonathan. “Perbaps
you don't know that this Darrell, as he calls bimself, so
contrived matters, that your child should be mistaken
for his own; by which means it had a parrow escape
from a tight cravat, I can assure you. However, the
scheme answered well enough, for he has got off with
his own brat."
“Then this is not my child ?” she exclaimed, with
increased astonishment.
“If you have a child there, it certainly is not,”
answered Jonathan, a little surprised; "for I left your
brat in the charge of Blueskin, who is still among the
crowd in the street, unless, as is not unlikely, he's gone
to see your other friend disciplined at the pump.”
“Merciful Providence !” exclaimed the female.
“Whose child can this be ?”
“How the devil should I know?” replied Jonathan
grufily. “I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling,
did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood ?” he
asked, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with
pain.
“My child ! my child !” exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard,
rushing from the adjoining room. Where is it?"
“ Are you the mother of this child ?” inquired the
person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. Sheppard.


JACK SHEPPARD
45
“I am-I am!” cried the widow, snatching the
babe, and pressing it to her breast with rapturous
delight “God be thanked, I have found it !”
“We have both good reason to be grateful,” added
the lady, with great emotion.
“'Sblood !” cried Jonathan, who had listened to the
foregoing conversation with angry wonder, “I've been
nicely done bere. Fool that I was to part with my
lantern! But I'll soon set myself straight. What ho !
ghts ! lights !”
And, shouting as he went, he flung himself downstairs.
“Where shall I fly?” exclaimed the lady, bewildered
with terror. “They will kill me, if they find me, as
they would have killed my husband and child. O God !
my limbs fail me."
“ Make an effort, madam," cried Mrs. Sheppard, as
storm of furious voices resounded from below, and
torches were seen mounting the stairs ; "they are
coming they are coming !-fly to the roof i to
the roof!"
“No,” cried the lady; “this room-I recollect it
has a back window.”
“It is shut," said Mrs. Sheppard.
"It is open," replied the lady, rushing towards it,
and springing through the outlet.
“Where is she?” thundered Jonathan, who at this
moment reached Mrs. Sheppard.
“She bas flown upstairs,” replied the widow.
“You lie, hussy!” replied Jonathan, rudely pushing
her aside, as she vainly endeavoured to oppose his
entrance into the room ; "she is here. Hist!” he
cried, as a scream was heard from without; "she has
missed her footing.'
There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken
only by a few feeble groans.
Sir Cecil, who with Rowland and some others had
entered the room, rushed to the window with a torch.


46
JACK SHEPPARD
1
He held down the light, and a moment afterwards
beckoned, with a blanched cheek, to Rowland.
“ Your sister is dead," he said in a deep whisper.
Her blood be upon her own head, then,” replied
Rowland sternly. “Why came she here?"
“She could not resist the hand of fate which drew
her hither," replied Sır Cecil mournfully.
Descend, and take charge of the body," said Row-
land, conquering his emotion by a great effort. “I
will join you in a moment. This accident rather con-
firms thao checks my purpose.
The stain upon our
family is only half-effaced ; I have sworn the death of
the villain and his bastard, aod I will keep my oath.
Now, sir," he added, turning to Jonathan, as Sir Cecul
and his followers obeyed his injunctions, "you say you
know the road which the person whom we seek has
taken."
“I do," replied Jonathan. "But I give no informa
tion gratis."
Speak, then," said Rowland, placing money in his
band.
“You'll find bin at Saint Saviour's Stairs," answered
Jonathan. " He's about to cross the river. You'd
better lose no time. file has got five minutes' start
But I sent him the longest way about.”
The words were scarcely pronounced, when Rowland
disappeared.
“And now to see the end of it,” said Jonathan, shortly
afterwards passing through the window. “Good-night,
Master.”
Three persons only were left in the room. These
were the Master of the Mint, Van Galgebrok, and
Mrs. Sheppard.
“A bad business, this, Van," observed Baptist, with
a prolonged shake of the bead.
“Ja, ja, Muntmeester," said the Hollander, shaking
his head in reply; "very baad very.”
of you.


JACK SHEPPARD
47
"But then they're staunch supporters of our friend over
the water,” continued Baptist, winking significantly;
" 80 we must e'en hush it up in the best way we can.
"Ja," answered Van Galgebrok. “But-der duivel !
-I wish they hadn't broke my pipe.”
“Jonathan Wild promises well,” observed the Master,
after a pause; “he'll become a great man.
Mind I,
Baptist Kettleby, say so."
He'll be haoged, neverdelesh,” replied the Hollander,
giving his collar an ugly jerk. “Mind I, Rykhart van
Galgebrok, predict it. And now let's go back to de
Shovels, and finish our brandewyn and bier, Munt-
meester."
“Alas !” cried Mrs. Sheppard, relieved by their
departare, and giving way to a passionate flood of
tears ;
were it not for my child, I should wish to be
in the place of that unfortunate lady!"
The Denunciation.
"Open
For a short space Mrs. Sheppard remained dissolved
jo tears. She then dried her eyes, and, laying her child
gently upon the floor, knelt down beside him.
my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a
bumble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make
me sensible of the error of my ways. I have sinned
deeply; but I have been sorely tried. Spare me get
a little while, Father! not for my own sake, but for
the sake of this poor babe.” Her utterance was here
choked by sobs. “But if it is Thy will to take me
from him,” she continued, as soon as her emotion per-
mitted her—"if he must be left an orphan amid
strangers, implant, I beseech Thee, a mother's feelings


48
JACK SHEPPARD
!
in some other bosom, and raise up a friend who shall
be to him what I would have been. Let him not bear
the weight of my punishment. Spare bim!-pity me!”
With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was
about to proceed downstairs, when she was alarmed by
hearing the street door opened, and the sound of heavy
footsteps entering the house.
“Halloa, widow !” shouted a rough voice from
below, “ where the devil are you?”
Mrs. Sheppard returned no answer.
“I've got something to say to you," continued the
speaker rather less harshly; "something to your advan-
tage ; so come out of your hiding-place, and let's have
some supper, for I'm infernally hungry. D'ye hear?”
Still the widow remained silent.
“Well, if you won't come, I shall help myself, and
that's unsociable," pursued the speaker, evidently, from
the noise he made, suiting the action to the word
“ Devilish nice ham you've got here !--capital pie !-
and, as I live, a flask of excellent canary. You're in
luck to-night, widow. Here's your health in a bumper,
and wishing you a better husband than your first. It'll
be your own fault if you don't soon get another, and a
proper young man into the bargain. Here's his health
likewise. What! mum still ? You're the first widow I
ever heard of who could withstand that lure. I'll try
the effect of a jolly stave." And he struck up the follow-
ing ballad :
SAINT GILES'S BOWL.1
Where Saint Giles's church stands, once a lazar-house
stood,
And, chained to its gates was a vessel of wood;
1 At the hospital of Saint Giles for lazars, the prisoners conveyed
from the City of London towards Tyburn, there to be executed for
treasons, felonies, or other trespasses, were presented with a bowl
of ale, thereof to drink, as their last refreshing in this life.-
STRYPE'S Stow, Book ix, ch, üi.


JACK SHEPPARD
49
A broad-bottomed bowl, from which all the fine fellows
Who passed by that spot, on their way to the gallows,
Might tipple strong beer
Their spirits to checr,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear!
Por nothing the transit co Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles/
By many a highwayman many a draught
Of nully-brown ale at Saint Giles’s was quaft,
Until the old lazar-bouse chanced to fall down,
And the broad-bottomed bowl was removed to the Crown,
Where the robber may cheer
Ilis spirits with beer,
And drown in a sea of good liquor all fear !
Por nothing the crunsit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles /
There MULSACK and SWIFTNECK, both prigs from their birth,
OLD Moe and TOM Cox took their last draught on earth;
There Randal, aod SHORTER, and WHITNEY pulled up;
And jolly JACK JOYCE drank his finishing cup!
Por a can of ale calms
A highwayman's qualms !
And makes him sing blithely his dolorous psalms !
Por nothing the cransit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles !
“Singing's dry work," observed the stranger, pausing
to take a pull at the bottle. “And now, widow," he
continued, "attend to the next verse, for it concerns a
friend o' yours.”
When gallant TOM SHEPPARD to Tyburn was led,
'Stop the cart at the Crown-stop a moment,” he said ;
He was offered tbe Bowl, but he left it and smiled,
Crying, “Keep it till called for by JONATHAN WILD!
The rascal one day
Will pass by this way,
And drink a full measure to moisten his clay!
And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled
Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!"
Should it e'er be my lot to ride backwards that way,
At the door of the Crown I will certainly stay;


50
JACK SHEPPARD
I'll summon the landlord—I'll call for the Bowie
And drink a deep draught to the health of my soul 1
Whatever may hap,
I'll taste of the tap,
To keep up my spirits when brought to the crap!
For nothing the transit to Tyburn beguiles
So well as a draught from the Bowl of Saint Giles !
“Devil seize the woman!” growled the singer, 28
he brought his ditty to a close; “will nothing tempt
her out? Widow Sheppard, I say,” he added, rising,
“ don't be afraid. It's only a gentleman come to offer
you his hand. 'He that woos a maid'--fol-de-rol-
(hiccupping)—I'll soon find you out."
Mrs. Sheppard, whose distress at the consumption
of the provisions had been somewhat allayed by the
anticipation of the intruder's departure after he had
satisfied his appetite, was now terrified in the extreme
by seeing a light approach, and hearing footsteps on
the stairs. Her first impulse was to fly to the window;
and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of
sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm
was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the
ladder from without. Uttering a faint scream, she
sank backwards, and would have fallen, if it had not
been for the interposition of Blueskin, who at that
moment staggered into the room, with a candle in one
hand and the bottle in the other.
“Oh, you're here, are you?" said the ruffian, with
an exulting laugh ; "I've been looking for you every-
where."
“Let me go,” implored Mrs. Sheppard, “pray let
You hurt the child. Don't you hear how
you've made it cry?”
“Throttle the kid !” rejoined Blueskin fiercely. “ If
you don't stop its squalling, I will. I hate children.
And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter
a' puppies."
Well knowing the savage temper of the person she
me go.


JACK SHEPPARD
51
had to deal with, and how likely he was to put his
threat into execution, Mrs. Sheppard did not dare to re-
turn any answer; but, disengaging herself from his em-
brace, endeavoured meekly to comply with his request.
..“And now, widow," continued the ruffian, setting
down the candle, and applying his lips to the bottle-
neck as he flung his heavy frame upon a bench, “I've
a piece o' good news for you."
« Good news will be news to me. What is it?**
"Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw &
gallant expression into his forbidding countenance.
Mrs. Sheppard trembled violently; and though she
understood his meaning too well, she answered, “I
can't guess."
“Well, then," returned the ruffian, “to put you out
o' suspense, as the topsman remarked to poor Tom
Sheppard, before he turned him off, I'm come to make
you an honourable proposal of marriage. You won't
refuse me, I'm sure. So no more need be said about
the matter. To-morrow we'll go to the Fleet and get
spliced. Don't shake so. What I said about your
brat was all stuff. I didn't mean it. It's my way
when I'm ruffled. I shall take to him as nat'ral as
if he were my own flesh and blood before long. I'll
give him the edication of a prig—teach him the use
of his forks betimes—and make him, in the end, as
clever a cracksman as his father."
“Never!" shrieked Mrs. Sheppard; "never! never !”
“Halloa! what's this?” demanded Blueskin, spring-
ing to his feet. “Do you mean to say that if I support
your kid, I shan't bring him up how I please-eh?”
“ Don't question me, but leave me,” replied the
widow wildly: "you had better.'
“Leave you!" echoed the ruffian, with a con-
temptuous laugh; “not just yet.”
“I am not unprotected,” rejoined the poor woman ;
“there's some one at the window. Help! help!"


52
JACK SHEPPARD
But ber cries were unheeded. And Blueskin, who,
for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, con-
cluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever.
“It won't do, widow,'
,” he said, drawing near her,
while she shrank from his approach, "so you may
spare your breath. Come, come, be reasonable and
listen to me. Your kid has already brought me good
luck, and may bring me still more if his edication is
attended to. This purse,” he added, chinking it in the
air, "and this ring, were given me for him just now
by the lady who made a false step on leaving your
house. If I'd been in the way, instead of Jonathan
Wild, that accident wouldn't have happened.”
As he said this, a slight noise was heard without.
“What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing un-
easily towards the window. “Who's there? Pshaw!
it's only the wind.”
“It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, en-
deavouring to alarm him. “I told you I was not
unprotected."
"He protect you," retorted Blueskin maliciously;
“you haven't a worse enemy on the face of the earth
than Jonathan Wild. If you'd read your husband's
dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at
Jonathan's door — and with reason, too, as I can
testify."
"Man!" screamed Mrs. Sheppard, with a vehemence
that shook even the hardened wretch beside her, “be-
gone, and tempt me not.”
“What should I tempt you to?" asked Blueskin,
in surprise.
“To-to-no matter what,” returned the widow
distractedly. “Go-go!"
“I see what you mean,” rejoined Blueskin, tossing
a large case-knife, which he took from his pocket, in
the air, and catching it dexterously by the haft as
it fell; “you owe Jonathan a grudge; 80 do I Ho


JACK SHEPPARD
53
>>
hanged your first husband. Just speak the word,”
he added, drawing the knife significantly across his
throat, “and I'll put it out of his power to do the
same by your second. But curse him ! let's talk o'
something more agreeable. Look at this ring; it's a
diamond, and worth a mint o' money. It shall be
your wedding-ring. Look at it, I say. The lady's
name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely
read it, A-L-I-V-A—Aliva—T-R-E-N— Trencher—that's
it. Aliva Trencher."
“Aliva Trenchard!" exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard hastily;
" is that the name ?”
'Ay, ay, now I look again, it is Trenchard. How
came you to know it? Have you heard the name
before ?"
“I think I have—long, long ago, when I was a
child,” replied Mrs. Sheppard, passing her hand across
her brow; “but my memory is gone-quite gone.
Where can I have heard it?”
“Devil knows," rejoined Blueskin.
The ring's yours, and you're mine. Here, put it on
your finger."
Mrs. Sheppard snatched back her hand from his
grasp, and exerted all her force to repel his advances.
“Set down the kid,” roared Blueskin savagely.
“Mercy !” screamed Mrs. Sheppard, struggling to
escape, and holding the infant at arm's length ; " have
mercy on this helpless innocent !"
And the child, alarmed by the strife, added its feeble
cries to its mother's shrieks.
“Set it down, I tell you,” thundered Blueskin,
I shall do it a mischief.”
"Never !" cried Mrs. Sheppard.
Uttering a terrible imprecation, Blueskin placed the
knife between his teeth, and endeavoured to seize the
poor woman by the throat. In the struggle her cap
fell off. The ruffian caught hold of her hair, and held
" Let it pass.
or


54
JACK SHEPPARD
her fast. The chamber rang with her shrieks. But
her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion,
only added to his fury. Planting his knee against her
side, he pulled her towards him with one hand, while
with the other he sought his knife. The child was
now within reach; and, in another moment, he would
have executed his deadly purpose, if an
arm from
behind had not felled him to the ground.
When Mrs. Sheppard, who had been stricken down
by the blow that prostrated her assailant, looked up,
she perceived Jonathan Wild kneeling beside the body
of Blueskin. He was holding the ring to the light, and
narrowly examining the inscription.
"Trenchard,” he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard-they
were right, then, as to the name. Well, if she survives
the accident—as the blood, who styles himself Sir Cecil,
fancies she may do—this ring will make my fortune,
by leading to the discovery of the chief parties concerned
in this strange
affair.'
“Is the poor lady alive?" asked Mrs. Sheppard
eagerly.
"'Sblood !” exclaimed Jonathan, hastily thrusting
the ring into his vest, and taking up a heavy horse-
man's pistol with which he had felled Blueskin, “I
thought you'd been senseless."
“Is she alive ?” repeated the widow.
“What's that to you?” demanded Jonathan grufily.
“Oh, nothing—nothing,” returned Mrs. Sheppard.
“But pray tell me if her husband has escaped ?"
“Her husband !” echoed Jonathan scornfully. "A
husband has little to fear from his wife's kinsfolk. Her
lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where,
if he's not capsized by the squall (for it's blowing like
the devil), he stands a good chance of getting his
throat cut by his pursuers-ha! ha! I tracked 'em
to the banks of the river, and should have followed to
see it out, if the waterman hadn't refused to take me.


JACK SHEPPARD
55
However, as things have turned up, it's fortunate that
I came back."
"It is, indeed,” replied Mrs. Sheppard ; "most
fortunate for me.
“For you ! " exclaimed Jonathan; “don't flattor
yourself that I'm thinking of you. Blueskin might
have butchered you and your brat before I'd have
lifted a finger to prevent him, if it hadn't suited my
purpose to do so, and he hadn't incurred my displeasure.
I never forgive an injury. Your husband could have
told
you
that.”
“How had he offended you?” inquired the widow.
“I'll tell you," answered Jonathan sternly. “He
thwarted my schemes twice. The first time, I over-
looked the offence; but the second time, when I had
planned to break open the house of his master, the
fellow who visited you to-night-Wood, the carpenter
of Wych Street-he betrayed me. I told him I would
bring him to the gallows, and I was as good as my
word.”
“You were so," replied Mrs. Sheppard ; "and for that
wicked deed you will one day be brought to the gallows
yourself."
“Not before I have conducted your child thither,"
retorted Jonathan, with a withering look.
“Ah !” ejaculated Mrs. Sheppard, paralysed by the
threat.
“If that sickly brat lives to be a man,” continued
Jonathan, rising, “ I'll hang him upon the same tres as
his father.”
“ Pity!” shrieked the widow.
“I'll be his evil genius!” vociferated Jonathan, who
seemed to enjoy her torture.
“Begone, wretch !” cried the mother, stung beyond
endurance by his taunts, “or I will drive you hence
with my curses."
“Curse on, and welcome,” jeered Wild.


56
JACK SHEPPARD
Mrs. Sheppard raised her hand, and the malediction
trembled upon her tongue. But ere the words could
find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her
indignation, and, sinking upon her knees, sbe extended
her arms over her child.
“A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she
cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will
avail against a fiend's malice.”
“We shall see," rejoined Jonathan, turning carelessly
upon his heel.
And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell
with her face upon the floor.
VI
The Storm.
As soon as he was liberated by his persecutors, Mr.
Wood set off at full speed from the Mint, and, hurrying
he scarce knew whither (for there was such a continual
buzzing in his ears, and dancing in his eyes, as almost
to take away the power of reflection), he held on at a
brisk pace till his strength completely failed him.
On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither
chance had led him; and rubbing his eyes to clear his
sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower
and broad roof, immediately in front of him. This
structure at once satisfied him as to where he stood
He knew it to be Saint Saviour's Church. As he
looked
up
at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth
the hour of midnight. The solemn strokes were imme-
diately answered by a multitude of chimes, sounding
across the Thames, amongst which the deep note of
Saint Paul's was plainly distinguishable.
A feeling of inexplicable awe crept over the carpenter


JACK SHEPPARD
57
as the sounds died away. He trembled, not from any
superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of
approaching danger. The peculiar appearance of the
sky was not without some influence in awakening these
terrors. Over one of the pinnacles of the Tower a speck
of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then
newly born and newly risen. It was still profoundly
dark; but the wind, which had begun to blow with
some violence, chased the clouds rapidly across the
heavens, and dispersed the vapours hanging nearer the
earth. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at
others it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the
masses rolling in the firmament. Not a star could be
discerned, but in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance,
wbeoce proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot
ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to
the ominous and threatening appearance of the night.
Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and
feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treat-
ment to proceed farther on foot, Wood endeavoured
to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise
refresh himself. With this view he struck off into a
narrow street on the left, and soon entered a small
alehouse, over the door of which hung the sign of the
“Welsh Trumpeter."
“Let me have a glass of brandy,” he said, addressing
the host.
“Too late, master,” replied the landlord of the
Trumpeter, in a surly tone, for he did not much like
the appearance of his customer; "just shut up shop.”
Zounds ! David Pugh, don't you know your old
friend and countryman?” exclaimed the carpenter.
“Ah! Owen Wood, is it you?” cried David, in
astonishment. “What the devil makes you out so
late? And what has happened to you, man, eh ?
you seem in a queer plight.”
“Give me the brandy, and I'll tell you,” replied Wood


58
JACK SHEPPARD
Here, wife-hostess_fetch me that bottle from
the second shelf in the corner cupboard. There, Mr.
Wood,” cried David, pouring out a glass of the spirit
and offering it to the carpenter,
" that'll warm the
cockles of your heart. Don't be afraid, man-off with
it. It's right Nantz. I keep it for my own drinking,”
he added in a lower tone.
Mr. Wood, having disposed of the brandy, and pro-
nounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-
side, and informed his friend in a few words of the
inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the
gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon, Mr. Pugh, who,
as well as the carpenter, was a descendant of Cad-
wallader, waxed extremely wroth; gave utterance to
a number of fierce-sounding imprecations in the Welsh
tongue; and was just beginning to express the greatest
anxiety to catch some of the rascals at the Trumpeter,
when Mr. Wood cut him short by stating his intention
of crossing the river as soon as possible in order to
avoid the storm.
“A storm!” exclaimed the landlord. “Gadzooks!
I thought something was coming on; for when I looked
at the weather-glass an hour ago, it had sunk lower
than I ever remember it.”
“We shall have a durty night on it, to a sartinty,
landlord,” observed an old one-eyed sailor, who sat
smoking his pipe by the fireside. “The glass never
sinks i' that way, d'ye see, vithout a hurricane follerin'.
I've knowed it often do 80 i' the Vest Injees. More
over, a couple of porpusses came up with the tide this
mornin', and ha' bin flounderin' about i' the Thames
above Lunnon Bridge all day long; and them say.
monsters, you know, always prove sure forerunners
of a gale."
“Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood;
"what's to pay, David ?”
“Don't affront me, Owen, by asking such a ques


JACK SHEPPARD
59
97
tion,” returned the landlord; “hadn't
you
better stop
and finish the bottle ?"
“Not a drop more," replied Wood. “Enough's as
good as a feast. Good night !”
“Well, if you won't be persuaded, and must have a
boat, Owen,” observed the landlord, “there's a water-
man asleep on the bench will help you to as tidy a
craft as any on the Thames. Halloa, Ben !” he cried,
shaking a broad-backed fellow, equipped in a short-
skirted doublet, and having a badge upon his sleeve,
“scullers wanted.”
Halloa, my hearty!” cried Ben, starting to his feet.
“This gentleman wants a pair of oars," said the
landlord.
“Where to, master ?” asked Ben, touching his
66
woollen cap.
“ Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point
to Wych Street."
“Come along, master," returned the waterman.
“Hark'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the
ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but
dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to
night.”
“And why not, old saltwater?" inquired Ben,
turning a quid in his mouth.
"'Cos there's a gale a-getting up as'll perwent you,
young freshwater,” rejoined the tar.
“It must look sharp, then, or I shall give it the
slip,” laughed Ben; "the gale never yet blowed as
could perwent my crossing the Thames. The weather's
been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've nover
turned
my
back
upon
it.”
"Maybe not," replied the old sailor dryly; "but
you'll find it too stiff for you to-night, anyhow. How-
somdever, if you should reach t'other side, take an old
feller's advice, and don't be foolhardy enough to wenter
back again.”


60
JACK SHEPPARD
>>
“I tell 'ee what, saltwater,” said Ben, “I'll lay you
my fare—and that'll be two shillin'-I'm back in an
hour.”
“ Done!” cried the old sailor. “But vere'll be the
use o' vinnin'? you von't live to pay me.”
“Never fear,” replied Ben gravely; "dead or alive,
I'll pay you if I lose. There's my thumb upon it.
Come along, master.”
“I'll tell 'ee what, landlord,” observed the old sailor,
quietly replenishing his pipe from a huge pewter
tobacco-box, as the waterman and Wood quitted the
house, “it's my opinion you've said good-bye to your
friend."
“Odd's me! do you think so ?” cried the host of the
Trumpeter. “I'll run and bring him back. He's a
Welshman, and I wouldn't for a trifle that any
accident
befel him.”
“Never mind,” said the old sailor, taking up a piece
of blazing coal with the tongs, and applying it to his
pipe; “let 'em try. They'll be back soon enough--or
not at all.”
Mr. Wood and the waterman, meanwhile, proceeded
in the direction of Saint Saviour's Stairs. Casting a
hasty glance at the old and ruinous prison belonging
to the liberty of the Bishop of Winchester (whose
palace formerly adjoined the river), called the Clink,
which gave its name to the street along which he
walked, and noticing, with some uneasiness, the melan-
choly manner in which the wind whistled through its
barred casements, the carpenter followed his companion
down an opening to the right, and presently arrived at
the waterside.
Moored to the steps, several wherries were danci
in the rushing current, as if impatient of restrain.c.
Into one of these the waterman jumped, and, having
assisted Mr. Wood to a seat within it, immediately
pushed from land. The oars were scarcely adjusted


JACK SHEPPARD
61
when the gleam of a lantern was seen moving towards
the bank. A shout was heard at a little distance, and,
the next moment, a person rushed with breathless
haste to the stairhead.
“Boat there !” cried a voice, which Mr. Wood fancied
he recognised.
“You'll find a waterman asleep under his tilt in one
of them 'ere craft, if you look about, master," replied
Ben, backing water as he spoke.
“Can't you take me with you?” urged the voice ;
"I'll make it well worth your while. I've a child here
whom I wish to convey across the water without loss
of time.”
“A child !” thought Wood; "it must be the fugitive
Darrell. Hold hard,” he cried, addressing the water-
man; “I'll give the gentleman a lift.”
“Unpossible, master," rejoined Ben; "the tide's
running down like a mill-sluice, and the wind's right
in our teeth. Old saltwater was right. We shall have
a reg'lar squall afore we gets across. D’ye hear how
the wanes creaks on Old Winchester House? We shall
have a touch on it ourselves presently. I shall lose
my wager if I stay a moment longer-so here goes."
Upon which he plunged his oars deeply into the
stream, and the bark shot from the strand.
Mr. Wood's anxiety respecting the fugitive was
speedily relieved by hearing another waterman busy
himself in preparation for starting; and, shortly after,
the dip of a second pair of oars sounded upon the
river.
“Curse me if I don't think all the world means
to cross the Thames this fine night,” observed Ben.
“One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great
guns. Why, there's another party on the stairhead
inquiring arter scullers; and, by the mass ! they appear
in a greater hurry than any on us.”
His attention being thus drawn to the bank, the


62
JACK SHEPPARD
carpenter beheld three figures, one of whom bore a
torch, leap into a wherry of a larger size than the
others, which immediately put off from shore. Manned
by a couple of watermen, who rowed with great swift-
ness, this wherry dashed through the current in the
track of the fugitive, of whom it was evidently in pur-
suit, and upon whom it perceptibly gained. Mr. Wood
strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff.
But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass
foating upon the water at a little distance, which, to
his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still.
To the practised eye of the waterman, matters wore a
very different air. He perceived, clearly enough, that
the chase was moving quickly; and he was also aware,
from the increased rapidity with which the oars were
urged, that every exertion was made on board to get
out of the reach of her pursuers. At one moment, it
seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore.
But this plan (probably from its danger) was instantly
abandoned; not, however, before her momentary hesi-
tation had been taken advantage of by her pursuers,
who, redoubling their efforts at this juncture, materially
lessened the distance between them.
Ben watched these mancuvres with great interest,
and strained every sinew in his frame to keep ahead
of the other boats.
“ Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, sir, arter the gemman
with a writ?” he observed.
“Something worse, I fear," Wood replied.
“Why, you don't think as how they're crimps, do
you ?" Ben inquired.
“I don't know what I think,” Wood answered
sulkily. And he bent his eyes upon the water, as if
he wished to avert his attention forcibly from the
scene.
There is something that inspires a feeling of inex-
pressible melancholy in sailing on a dark night upon


JACK SHEPPARD
63
the Thames. The sounds that reach the ear, and the
objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken
a train of sad and serious contemplation. The ripple
of the water against the boat, as its keel cleaves through
the stream—the darkling current hurrying by-the
indistinctly-seen craft, of all forms and all sizes, hovering
around, and making their way in ghost-like silence, or
warning each other of their approach by cries, that,
heard from afar, have something doleful in their note
---the solemn shadows cast by the bridges—the deeper
gloom of the echoing arches--the lights glimmering
from the banks—the red reflection thrown upon the
waves by a fire kindled on some stationary barge-the
tall and fantastic shapes of the houses, as discerned
through the obscurity; these, and other sights and
sounds of the same character, give a sombre colour
to the thoughts of one who may choose to indulge in
meditation at such a time and in such a place.
But it was otherwise with the carpenter. This was
no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. It
was a night of storm and terror, which promised each
moment to become more stormy and more terrible.
Not a bark could be discerned on the river, except
those already mentioned. The darkness was almost
palpable; and the wind, which hitherto had been
blowing in gusts, was suddenly lulled. It was a dead
calm. But this calm was more awful than the previous
roaring of the blast.
Amid the portentous hush, the report of a pistol
reached the carpenter's ears; and, raising his head at
the sound, he beheld a sight which filled him with
fresh apprehensions.
By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the
hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached
within a short distance of the object of their quest.
The shot had taken effect upon the waterman who
rowed the chase. He had abandoned his oars, and the


64
JACK SHEPPARD
buat was drifting with the streain towards the enemy.
Escape was now impossible. Darrell stood erect in the
bark, with his drawn sword in hand, prepared to repel
the attack of his assailants, who, in their turn, seemed
to await with impatience the moment which should
deliver him into their power.
They had not to tarry long. In another instant the
collision took place. The watermen, who manned the
larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled
with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. Wood then
beheld two persons, one of whom he recognised as
Rowland, spring on board the chase. A ficrcc struggle
ensued. There was a shrill cry, instantly succeeded
by a deep splash.
“Put about, waterman, for God's sake!” cried
Wood, whose humanity got the better of every per-
sonal consideration ; some one is overboard. Cive
way, and let us render what assistance we can to the
poor wretch.”
“It's all over with him by this time, master,” replied
Ben, turning the head of his boat, and rowing swilliy
towards the scene of strife; “but, curse him, he was
the chap as hit poor Bill Thomson just now, and I
don't much care if he should be food for fishes."
As Ben spoke, they drew near the opposing parties.
The contest was now carried on between Rowland and
Darrell. The latter had delivered himself from one of
his assailants, the attendant Davies. Hurled over the
side of the skiff, the ruffian speedily found a watery
grave. It was a spring tide at half-ebb; and the
current, which was running fast and furiously, bore
him instantly away.
While the strife raged between
the principals, the watermen in the larger wherry were
occupied in stemming the force of the torrent, and
endeavouring to keep the boats they had lashed
together stationary. Owing to this circumstance, Mr.
Wood's boat, impelled alike by oar and tide, shot past


JACK SHEPPARD
65
the mark at which it aimed; and before it could be
again brought about, the struggle bad terminated. For
a few minutes, Darrell seemed to have the advantage
in the conflict. Neither combatant could use his sword;
and in strength the fugitive was evidently superior to
his antagonist. The boat rocked violently with the
struggle. Had it not been lashed to the adjoining
wherry, it must have been upset and have precipi-
tated the opponents into the water. Rowland felt
himself sinking beneath the powerful grasp of his
enemy. He called to the other attendant, who held
the torch. Understanding the appeal, the man snatched
his master's sword from his grasp, and passed it through
Darrell's body. The next moment, a heavy plunge
told that the fugitive had been consigned to the waves.
Darrell, however, rose again instantly, and, though
mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain
the boat.
“My child !” he groaned faintly.
“Well reminded," answered Rowland, who had
witnessed his struggles with a smile of gratified ven-
geance. “I had forgotten the accurscd imp in this
confusion. Take it,” he cried, lifting the babe from
the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its
unfortunate father.
The child fell within a short distance of Darrell,
wbo, hearing the splash, struck out in that direction,
and caught it before it sank. At this juncture, the
sound of oars reached his ears, and he perceived Mr.
Wood's boat beating up towards him.
“Here he is, waterman!” exclaimed the bonevolent
carpenter. I see him !- row for your life!
"That's the way to miss him, master,” replied Ben
coolly. “We must keep still. The tide'll bring him
to us fast enough.”
Ben judged correctly. Borne along by the current
Darrell was instantly at the boat's side.
66
:)


66
JACK SHEPPARU
“Seize this oar,” vociferated the waterman.
“First take the child,” cried Darrell, holding up the
infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort.
Give it me,” returned the carpenter ; "all's safe.
Now lend me your own hand.”
“My strength fails me," gasped the fugitive. “I
cannot climb the boat. Take my child to—it is
O God !—I am sinking-take it-take it !”
“Where?” shouted Wood.
Darrell attempted to reply. But he could only utter
an inarticulate exclamation. The next moment his
grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more.
Rowland, meantime, alarmed by the voices, snatched
a torch from his attendant, and holding it over the side
of the wherry, witnessed the incident just described.
“Confusion !” he cried ; " there is another boat in
our wake. They have rescued the child. Loose the
wherry, and stand to your oars-quick-quick."
These commands were promptly obeyed. The boat
was set free, and the men resumed their seats. Row-
land's purposes were, however, defeated in a manner
as unexpected as appalling.
During the foregoing occurrences a dead calm pre-
vailed. But, as Rowland sprang to the helm and gave
the signal for pursuit, a roar like a volley of ordnance
was heard aloft, and the wind again burst its bondage.
A moment before, the surface of the stream was black
as ink. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething
like an enormous caldron. The blast once more swept
over the agitated river; whirled off the sheets of foam,
scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left
the raging torrent blacker than before.
had become a hurricane : that hurricane was the most
terrible that ser laid waste our city. Destruction
everywhere marked its course. Steeples toppled, and
towers reeled beneath its fury. Trees were torn up by
the roots; many houses were levelled to the ground;
The gale
..


JACK SHEPPARD
67
others were unroofed ; the leads on the churches were
ripped off, and shrivelled up like scrolls of parchment.
Nothing on land or water was spared by the remorse-
less gale.
Most of the vessels lying in the river
were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously
against each other, or blown ashore. All was dark-
ness, borror, confusion, ruin. Men fled from their
tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by
greater dangers. The end of the world seemed at
hand.
At this time of universal havoc and despair-when
all London quaked at the voice of the storm—the
carpenter, who was exposed to its utmost fury, fared
better than might have been anticipated, The boat
in which he rode was not overset. Fortunately her
course had been shifted immediately after the rescue
of the child ; and, in consequence of this movement,
she received the first shock of the hurricane, which
blew from the south-west, upon her stern. Her head
dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly
escaped being swamped. Righting, however, instantly
afterwards, she scudded with the greatest rapidity over
the boiling waves, to whose mercy she was now entirely
abandoned. On this fresh outburst of the storm,
Wood threw himself instinctively into the bottom of
the boat, and clasping the little orphan to his breast,
endeavoured to prepare himself to meet his fate.
While he was thus occupied, he felt a rough grasp
upon his arm, and presently afterwards Ben's lips
approached close to his ear. The waterman sheltered
his mouth with his hand while he spoke, or his voice
would have been carried away by the violonce of the
blast.
“It's all up, master,” groaned Ben; “nothin' short
of a merracle can save us.
The boat's sure to run foul
o' the bridge ; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll
be swamped to a sartinty below. There'll be a fall


68
JACK SHEPPARD
99
of above twelve foot o' water, and think o' that on a
night as 'ud blow a whole fleet to the devil.”
Mr. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud.
“Heaven help us !” he exclaimed ;
we were mad
to neglect the old sailor's advice.”
“That's what troubles me," rejoined Ben. "I tell
'ee what, master, if you're more fortinate nor I am,
and get ashore, give old saltwater your fare. I pledged
my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager
if I lost. And I should like to be as good as my
word.”
“I will-- I will,” replied Wood hastily. “Was that
thunder ?” he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard
overhead.
“No; it's only a fresh gale,” Ben returned ; “hark !
now it comes
“Lord have mercy upon us, miserable sinners ?”
ejaculated Wood, as a fearful gust dashed the water
over the side of the boat, deluging him with spray.
The hurricane had now reached its climax. The
blast shrieked, as if exulting in its wrathful mission.
Stunning and continuous, the din seemed almost to
the
power of hearing. He who had faced
the gale would have been instantly stifled. Piercing
through every crevice in the clothes, it in some cases
tore them from the wearer's limbs or from his grasp.
It penetrated the skin ; benumbed the flesh; paralysed
the faculties. The intense darkness added to the terror
of the storm. The Destroying Angel hurried by,
shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. None saw, though
all felt his presence and heard the thunder of his voice.
Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the
air with phantoms. Ten thousand steeds appeared to
be trampling aloft, charged with the work of devasta-
tion. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the
wings of the tempest, animating and directing its
fury. The actual danger was lost sight of in these
take away


JACK SHEPPARD
69
wild apprehensions; and many timorous beings were
scared beyond reason's verge by the excess of their
fears.
This had well-nigh been the case with the carpenter.
He was roused from the stupor of despair into which
he had sunk, by the voice of Ben, who roared in his
ear, “ The bridge !—the bridge !”
VII
Old London Bridge.
LONDON, at the period of this history, boasted only a
single bridge. But that bridge was more remarkable
than any the metropolis now possesses. Covered with
houses from one end to the other, this reverend and
picturesque structure presented the appearance of a
street across the Thames. It was as if Gracechurch
Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless
throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex
to the Surrey shore. The houses were older, the shops
gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true;
but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the
Then the bridge had arched gateways bristling
with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways
ought to be) with the heads of traitors. In olden
days it boasted a chapel, dedicated to Saint Thomas;
beneath which there was a crypt curiously constructed
amid the arches, where " was sepultured Peter, the
Chaplain of Colechurch, who began the Stone Bridge
at London ”; and it still boasted an edifice (Nonesuch
House) which, though now in rather a tumbledown
condition, had once vied with a palace. The other
buildings stood close together in rows; and so valuable
was. every inch of room accounted, that, in many cases,
same.


70
JACK SHEPPARD
cellars, and even habitable apartments, were coostructed
in the solid masonry of the piers.
Old London Bridge (the grandsire of the present
erection) was supported on pideteen arcbes, each of
which
Would a Rialto make for depth and beight!
The arches stood upon enormous piers; the piers on
starlings, or jetties, built far out into the river to break
the force of the tide.
Roused by Ben's warning, the carpeo ter Jooked up,
and could just perceive the dusky outline of the bridge,
looming through the darkness, and rendered indis-
tinctly visible by the many lights that twinkled from
the windows of the lofty houses. As be gazed at
these lights, they suddenly seemed to disappear, and a
tremendous shock was felt throughout the frame of the
boat. Wood started to his fect. He found that the
skiff had been dashed against one of the buttresses of
the bridge.
“Jump!” cried Ben, in a voice of thunder.
Wood obeyed. His fears supplied him with un-
wonted vigour. Though the starling was more than
two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with
his little charge—which he had never for an instant
quitted-in safety upon it. Poor Ben was not so
fortunate. Just as he was preparing to follow, the
wherry containing Rowland and bis men, which had
drifted in their wake, was dashed against his boat.
The violence of the collision nearly threw him back-
wards, and caused him to swerve as he sprang.
His
foot touched the rounded edge of the starling, and
glanced off, precipitating him into the water. As he
fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. But the
stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to
feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful
velocity. He could not make good his hold. But,


JACK SHEPPARD
attering a loud cry, he was swept away by the head-
long torrent.
Mr. Wood heard the cry. But his own situation was
too perilous to admit of his rendering any assistance to
the ill-fated waterman. He fancied, indeed, that he
beheld a figure spring upon the starling at the moment
when the boats came in contact; but, as he could per-
ceive no one near him, he concluded he must have been
mistaken.
In order to make Mr. Wood's present position and
subsequent proceedings fully intelligible, it may be
necessary to give some notion of the shape and struc-
cure of the platform on which he had taken refuge. It
aas been said that the pier of each arch, or lock, of Old
London Bridge was defended from the force of the tide
by a huge projecting spur, called a starling, varying in
width according to the bulk of the pier they surrounded.
These starlings were all pretty nearly of the same length
and built somewhat after the model of a boat, having
extremities as sharp and pointed as the keel of a canoe.
Cased and ribbed with stone, and braced with horizontal
beams of timber, the piles, which formed the founda-
tion of these jetties, had resisted the strong encroach-
ments of the current for centuries. Some of them are
now buried at the bottom of the Thames. The starling
on which the carpenter stood was the fourth from the
Surrey shore. It might be three yards in width, and
a few more in length; but it was coverod with ooze
and slime, and the waves continually broke over it.
The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery
as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-
deep with water.
The carpenter threw himself flat upon the starling,
to avoid the füry of the wind. But in this posture he
fared worse than ever. If he ran less risk of being
blown over, he stood a much greater chance of being
washed off or stifled. As he lay on his back, he fancied


72
JACK SHEPPARD
himself gradually slippiog off the platform Springing
to his feet in an ecstasy of tercor, be stumbled, aod bad
well-nigh realised his worst apprebensions fle next
tried to clamber up the flying buttresses aod soffits of
the pier, in the hope of reaching some of the wiodows
and other apertures with which, as a wap of war is
studded with port-boles, tbe sides of the bridge were
pierced. But tbis wild scbene was speedily abandoned ,
and nerved by despair, be resolved to bazard an attempt,
from the execution-almost from the contemplation-
of which he bad hitherto sbruck. This was to pass
under the arch, along the narrow ledge of tbe starliog,
and, if possible, to attain the castern platform. where.
protected by the bridge, he would suffer less from the
excessive violence of the gale.
Assured, if he remained much longer where he was,
he would inevitably perish, the carpenter commended
himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his
perilous course. Carefully sustaining the child, which
even in that terrible extremity he had not the heart to
abandon, he fell upon his knees, and, guiding himse![
with his right hand, crept slowly on. He had scarcely
entered the arch, when the indraught was so violent,
and the noise of the wind so drcadful and astounding,
that he almost determined to relinquish the under-
taking. But the love of life prevailed over his fears.
He went on.
The ledge, along which he crawled, was about a foot
wide. In length the arch exceeded seventy feet
the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. When,
by slow and toilsome efforts, he had arrived midway,
something obstructed his further progress. It was a
huge stone placed there by some workmen occupied in
repairing the structure. Cold drops stood upon Wood's
brow as he encountered this obstacle. To return was
impossible to raise himself certain destruction. He
glanced downwards at the impetuous torrent, which
To


JACK SHEPPARD
73
he could perceive shooting past him with lightning
swiftness in the gloom. He listened to the thunder
of the fall now mingling with the roar of the blast,
aod, driven almost frantic by what he heard and saw,
be pushed with all his force against the stone. To his
astonishment and delight it yielded to the pressure,
toppled over the ledge, and sank. Such was the hubbub
and tumult around him, that the carpenter could not
bear its plunge into the flood. His course, however,
was no longer interrupted, and he crept on.
After encountering other dangers, and being twice
compelled to fling himself flat upon his face to avoid
slipping from the wet and slimy pathway, he was at
length about to emerge from the lock, when, to his
inexpressible horror, he found he had lost the child !
All the blood in his veins rushed to his heart, and
he sbook in every limb, as he made this discovery. A
species of vertigo seized him. His brain reeled. He
fancied that the whole fabric of the bridge was cracking
overhead—that the arch was tumbling upon him—that
the torrent was swelling around him, whirling him off,
and about to bury him in the deafening abyss. He
shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity
to the roughened stones. But calmer thoughts quickly
succeeded. On taxing his recollection, the whole
circumstance rushed to his mind with painful distinct-
He remembered that, before he attempted to
dislodge the stone, he had placed the child in a cavity
of the pier, which the granite mass had been intended
to fill.
This obstacle removed, in his eagerness to
proceed he had forgotten to take the little charge
with him. It was still possible the child might be
in safety.
And so bitterly did he reproach himself
with his neglect, that he resolved, at all risks, to go
back in search of it. Acting upon this humane deter-
mination, he impelled himself slowly backwards for
he did not dare to face the blast—and, with incredible
ness.


74
JACK SHEPPARD
labour and fatigue, reached the crevice. His persever-
ance was amply rewarded. The child was still safe.
It lay undisturbed, in the remotest corner of the
recess.
So overjoyed was the carpenter with the successful
issue of bis undertaking, that he scarcely paused a
moment to recruit himself, but, securing the child, set
out upon his return. Retracing his course, he arrived,
without further accident, at the eastern platform of
the starling. As he anticipated, he was here compara-
tively screened from the fury of the wind ; and when
he gazed upon the roaring fall beneath him, visible
through the darkness in à glistening sheet of foam,
his heart overflowed with gratitude for his providential
deliverance.
As he moved upon the starling, Mr. Wood became
sensible that he was not alone. Some one was stand-
ing beside him. This, then, must be the person whom
he had seen spring upon the western platform at the
time of the collision between the boats. The carpenter
well knew, from the obstacle which had interfered with
his own progress, that the unknown could not have
passed through the same lock as himself. But he might
have crept along the left side of the pier, and beneath the
farther arch; whereas Wood, as we have seen, took his
course upon the right. The darkness prevented the
carpenter from discerning the features or figure of the
stranger; and the ceaseless din precluded the possibility
of holding any communication by words with him.
Wood, however, made known his presence to the in-
dividual by laying his hand upon his shoulder. The
stranger started at the touch, and spoke. But bis
words were borne away by the driving wind.
Finding all his attempts at conversation with his
companion in misfortune in vain, Wood, in order to
distract his thoughts, looked up at the gigantic struc-
ture standing, like a wall of solid darkness, before him.
90


JACK SHEPPARD
75
What was bis transport on perceiving that a few yards
above him a light was burning. The carpenter did
not besitate a moment. He took a handful of the
gravelly mud with which the platform was covered,
and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the
gleam. A pane of glass was shivered by each stone.
The signal of distress was evidently understood. The
light disappeared The window was shortly after
opened, and a rope ladder, with a lighted horn lantern
attached to it, was let down.
Wood grasped his companion's arm to attract his
attention to this unexpected means of escape.
The
ladder was now within reach. Both advanced towards
it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in
the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered
and stern features of Rowland.
The carpenter trembled, for he perceived Rowland's
gaze
first
upon the infant, and then on himself.
“It is her child !” shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard
above the howling of the tempest, “risen from this roar-
ing abyss to torment me. Its parents have perished.
And shall their wretched offspring live to blight my
hopes and blast my fame? Never!” And with these
words, he grasped Wood by the throat, and, despite his
resistance, dragged him to the very verge of the platform.
At this juncture a thundering crash was heard against
the side of the bridge. A stack of chimneys, on the
house above, had yielded to the storm, and descended
in a shower of bricks and stones.
When the carpenter, a moment afterwards, stretched
out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive
or dead, he found himself alone. The fatal shower,
from which he and his little charge escaped uninjured,
had stricken his assailant and precipitated him into
the boiling gulf.
“It's an ill wind that blows nobody good,” thought
the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose


76
JACK SHEPPARD
feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life
had not been extinguished by the hardships it had
undergone. “Poor little creature,” he muttered, press-
ing it tenderly to his breast, as he grasped the rope and
clambered up to the window; “if thou hast, indeed,
lost both thy parents, as that terrible man said just now,
thou art not wholly friendless and deserted; for I my-
self will be a father to thee! And in memory of this
dreadful night, and the death from which I have been
the means of preserving thee, thou shalt bear the name
of Thames Darrell."
Wood had no sooner crept through the window, than
nature gave way, and he fainted. On coming to himself,
he found he had been wrapped in a blanket and put to
bed, with a couple of hot bricks to his feet. His first
inquiries were concerning the child, and he was delighted
to find that it still lived, and was doing well. Every
care had been taken of it, as well as of himself, by the
humane inmates of the house in which he had sought
shelter.
About noon, next day, he was able to move; and
the gale having abated, he set out homewards with his
little charge.
The city presented a terrible picture of devastation.
London Bridge had suffered a degree less than most
places. But it was almost choked up with fallen stacks
of chimneys, broken beams of timber, and shattered tiles.
The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked
as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river.
With great difficulty Wood forced a path through the
ruins. It was a work of no slight danger, for every
instant a wall, or fragment of a building, came crashing
to the ground. Thames Street was wholly impassable.
Men were going hither and thither with barrows, and
ladders, and ropes, removing the rubbish, and trying to
support the tottering habitations. Gracechurch Street
was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose


JACK SHEPPARD
77
curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the
carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. The tiles
lay a foot thick in the road. In some cases they were
ground almost to powder; in others driven deeply into
the earth, as if discharged from a piece of ordnance.
The roofs and gables of many of the houses had been
torn off. The signs of the shops were carried to in-
credible distances. Here and there, a building might
be seen with the doors and windows driven in ; all
access to it being prevented by the heaps of bricks
and tile-sherds.
Through this confusion the carpenter struggled on-
now ascending, now descending the different mountains
of rubbish that beset his path, at the imminent peril of
his life and limbs, until he arrived in Fleet Street. The
hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with
tenfold fury. Mr. Wood scarcely knew where he was.
The old aspect of the place was gone. In lieu of the
substantial habitations which he had gazed on overnight
he beheld a row of falling scaffoldings, for such they
seemed.
It was a dismal and depressing sight to see a great
city thus suddenly overthrown, and the carpenter
was deeply moved by it. As usual, however, on the
occasion of any great calamity, a crowd was scouring
the streets whose sole object seemed plunder. While
involved in this crowd, near Temple Bar-where the
thoroughfare was most dangerous from the masses of
ruin that impeded it--an individual, whose swarthy
features recalled to the carpenter one of his tormentors
of the previous night, collared him, and, with bitter
imprecations, accused him of stealing his child. In
vain Wood protested his innocence. The ruffian's
companions took his part. And the infant, in all
probability, would have been snatched from its pre-
server, if a posse of the watch (sent out to maintain
order and protect property) had not opportunely arrived,


78
JACK SHEPPARD
and, ly a vigorous application of their halberds, dis-
persed bis persecutors and set him at liberty.
Mr. Wood then took to his heels, and never opce
looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in
Wych Street. His wife met him at the door, and into
her hands he delivered his little charge.


EPOCH THE SECOND
1715
THAMES DARRELL
I
TELVE
The Idle Apprentice.
TWELVE years! How many events have occurred
during that long interval! how many changes
have taken place! The whole aspect of things is
altered. The child has sprung into youth; the youth
has become a man; the man has already begun to feel
the advances of age. Beauty has bloomed and faded.
Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded,
died. The fashions of the day have become antiquated.
New customs have prevailed over the old. Parties,
politics, and popular opinions have changed. The
crown has passed from the brow of one monarch to
that of another. Habits and tastes are no longer the
We ourselves are scarcely the same we were
twelve years ago.
Twelve years ago! It is an awful retrospect. Dare
we look back upon the darkened vista, and, in imagina-
tion, retrace the path we have trod? With how many
vain hopes is it shaded ? with how many good resolu-
tions, never fulfilled, is it paved? Where are the
dreams of ambition in which, twelve years ago, we
indulged? Where are the aspirations that fired us-
the passions that consumed us then? Has our success
same.
79


80
JACK SHEPPARD
in life been commensurate with our own desires-with
the anticipations formed of us by others? Or, are we
not blighted in heart, as in ambition ? Has not the
loved one been estranged by doubt, or snatched from
us by the cold band of death? Is not the goal, towards
which we pressed, farther off than ever-the prospect
before us cheerless as the blank behind ? Enough of
this. Let us proceed with our tale.
Twelve years, then, have elapsed since the date of
the occurrences detailed in the preceding division of
this history. At that time we were beneath the sway
of Anne-we are now at the commencement of the
reign of George the First. Passing at a glance over
the whole of the intervening period—leaving, in the
words of the poet-
The growth untried
Of that wide gap-
we shall resume our narrative at the beginning of June
1715.
One Friday afternoon, in this pleasant month, it
chanced that Mr. Wood, who had been absent on
business during the greater part of the day, returned
(perhaps not altogether undesignedly) at an earlier
hour than was expected to his dwelling in Wych
Street, Drury Lane, and was about to enter his work-
shop, when, not hearing any sound of labour issue
from within, he began to suspect that an apprentice,
of whose habits of industry he entertained some doubt,
was neglecting his employment. Impressed with this
idea, he paused for a moment to listen. But, finding
all continue silent, he cautiously lifted the latch and
crept into the room, fully resolved to punish the offender
in case his suspicions should prove correct.
The chamber into which he stole, like all carpenters'
workshops, was crowded with the implements and
materials of that ancient and honourable art. Saws,


JACK SHEPPARD
81
hammers, planes, axes, augers, adzes, chisels, gimlets,
and an endless variety of tools, were ranged, like a
stand of martial weapons at an armoury, in racks
against the walls. Over these hung levels, bevels,
squares, and other instruments of measurement. Amid
a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms,
and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oil-
stone, two articles which their owner was wont to term
“his right hand and his left.” On a shelf was placed
a row of paint-jars, the contents of which had been
daubed in rainbow streaks upon the adjacent closet and
window-sill. Divers plans and figures were chalked
upon the walls, and the spaces between them were filled
up with an almanack for the year; a godly ballad,
adorned with a rude woodcut, purporting to be “The
History of Chaste Susannah"; an old print of the
Seven Golden Candlesticks; an abstract of the various
Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all
manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of
Dr. Daniel Burgess's Presbyterian meeting-house in
Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend gentle-
man and the principal members of his flock. The floor
was thickly strewn with sawdust and shavings, and
across it ran a long and wide bench, furnished at one
end with a powerful vice; next to which three nails
driven into the boards served, it would appear from
the lump of unconsumed tallow left in their custody,
as a substitute for a candlestick. On the bench was
set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a
slice of cheese. Attracted by the odour of the latter
dainty, a hungry cat had contrived to scratch open the
paper in which it was wrapped, displaying the following
words in large characters: “THE HISTORY OF THE FOUR
KINGS; OR, CHILD'S BEST GUIDE TO THE GALLOWS."
And, as if to make the moral more obvious, a dirty
pack of cards was scattered underneath upon the saw-
dust. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind


82
JACK SHEPPARD
which the carpenter ensconced himself, in order to recon-
noitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice.
Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool placed upon the
bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife
in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his
appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon
a beam overhead. Boys, at the time of which we write,
were attired like men of their own day. or certain
charity children of ours; and the stripliag in question
was dressed in black plush breeches, and a grey drugget
waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of
which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one con-
siderably his senior. Coat, on the present occasion, he
had none, it being more convenient as well as agreeable to
him to pursue his avocations in his shirt-sleeves; but
when fully equipped, he wore a large-cuffed, long-skirted
garment, which had once been the property of his master.
In concealing himself behind the timber, Mr. Wood
could not avoid making a slight shulling sound. The
noise startled the apprentice, who instantly suspended
his labour, and gazed anxiously in the direction whence
he supposed it proceeded. IIis face was that of a quick,
intelligent-looking boy, with fine hazel eyes, and a clear
olive complexion. llis figure was uncommonly slim
even for his age, which could not be more than thirteen;
and the looseness of his garb made him appear
thinner
than he was in reality. But if his frame was immature,
his looks were not so. He seemed to possess a penc-
tration and cunning beyond his years to hide a man's
judgment under a boy's mask. The glance which he
threw at the door was singularly expressive of his char-
acter: it was a mixture of alarm, effrontery, and resolu-
tion. In the end resolution triumphed, as it was sure
to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laugbed at
bis fears. The only part of his otherwise interesting
countenance to which one could decidedly object, was
the mouth-a feature that, more than any other, is


JACK SHEPPARD
83
conceived to betray the animal propensities of the
possessor. If this is true, it must be owned that the
boy's mouth showed a strong tendency on his part to
coarse indulgence. The eyes, too, though large and
bright, and shaded by long lashes, seemed to betoken,
as hazel eyes generally do in men, a faithless and un-
certain disposition. The cheek-bones were prominent;
the nose slightly depressed, with rather wide nostrils;
the chin narrow, but well formed; the forehead broad
and lofty; and he possessed such an extraordinary flexi-
bility of muscle in this region, that he could elevate his
eyebrows at pleasure up to the very verge of his sleek
and shining black hair, which, being closely cropped to
admit of his occasionally wearing a wig, gave a singular
bullet shape to his head. Taken altogether, his physi-
ognomy resembled one of those vagabond heads which
Murillo delighted to paint, and for which Guzman
d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Torme, or Estevanillo Gon-
zalez might have sat-faces that almost make one in
love with roguery, they seem so full of vivacity and en-
joyment. There was all the knavery, and more than all
the drollery, of a Spanish piccaroon in the laughing eyes
of the English apprentice; and with a little more warmth
and sunniness of skin on the side of the latter, the re-
semblance between them would have been complete.
Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to
apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he
plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following
not inappropriate strains :
THE NEWGATE STONE."
When CLAUDE DU VAL was in Newgate thrown,
He carved his name on the dungeon stone;
Quoth a dubsman who gazed on the shattered wall,
"You have carved your epitaph, CLAUDE DU VAL,
With your chisel so fine, tra la 1"
1 Set to music by Mr. G, Herbert Rodwell.


84
JACK SHEPPARD
2
“This Swants a little deepening," mused the
apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay,
that's better.”
DU VAL was hanged, and the next who came
On the self-same stone inscribed his name;
“Aha!” quoth the dubsman, with devilish glee,
“ TOM WATERS, your doom is the triple tree!
With your chisel so fine, tra la /"
“Tut, tut, tut,” he cried, "what a fool I am, to be
sure! I ought to have cut John, not Jack. However,
it don't signify. Nobody ever calls me John, that I
recollect. So I dare say I was christened Jack. Deuce
take it! I was very near spelling my name with
one P.”
Within that dungeon lay CAPTAIN BEW,
RUMBOLD, and WHITNEY -a jolly crew!
All carved their names on the stone, and all
Share the fate of the brave DU VAL!
With their chisels so fine, tra la !
“Save us !” continued the apprentice; "I hope this
beam doesn't resemble the Newgate Stone, or I may
chance, like the great men the song speaks of, to swing
on the Tyburn tree for my pains. No fear of that.
Though if my name should become as famous as theirs,
it wouldn't much matter. The prospect of the gallows
would never deter me from taking to the road, if I
were so inclined.”
Full twenty highwaymen, blithe and bold,
Rattled their chains in that dungeon old ;
Of all that number there 'scaped not one
Who carved his name on the Newgate Stone.
With his chisel so fine, tra la !
“There !" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and
drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine
his performance, "that'll do. Claude du Val himself
couldn't have carved it better-ha! ha!”
The name inscribed upon the beam (of which, as it


JACK SHEPPARD
85
has been carefully preserved by the subsequent owners
of Mr. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily
enabled to furnish a fac-simile) was
[ACK SHEPPARD
66
"I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and
turn highwayman,” cried Jack, as he closed the knife,
and
put it in his pocket.
“The devil you have ! * thundered a voice from be-
hind, that filled the apprentice with dismay. “Come
down, sirrah, and I'll teach you how to deface my walls
in future. Come down, I say, instantly, or I'll make
you." Upon which Mr. Wood caught hold of Jack's
leg and dragged him off the bench.
And so you'll turn highwayman, will you, you
young dog?” continued the carpenter, cuffing him
soundly; "rob the mails, like Jack Hall, I suppose ?"
'Yes, I will,” replied Jack sullenly, “if you beat
me in that way."
Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood leftoff boxing his
ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said
in a grave tone, “Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged !”
“Better be hanged than henpecked," retorted the
lad, with a malicious grin.
“What do you mean by that, sirrah? ” cried Wood,
reddening with anger. “Do you dare to insinuate
that Mrs. Wood governs me ?”
“It's plain you can't govern yourself, at all events,
replied Jack coolly ; " but be that as it may, I won't
be struck for nothing."
"Nothing," echoed Wood furiously. “Do you call
neglecting your work, and singing flash songs, nothing
Is your recent idle discourse, and your present une
blushing insolence, nothing? Zounds ! you incorrigible


86
JACK SHEPPARD
rascal, many a master would have taken you
before a
magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement
in Bridewell for the least of these offences. But I'll be
more lenient, and content myself with chastising you."
"You may do as you please, master," interrupted
Jack, thrusting his hand into his pocket, as if in search
of the knife, “but I wouldn't advise you to lay hands
on me again.”
Mr. Wood glanced at the hardy offender, and, not
liking the expression of his countenance, thought it
advisable to postpone the execution of his threats to
a more favourable opportunity. So, by way of gaining
time, he resolved to question him further.
“Where did you learn the song I heard just now ?”
he demanded in an authoritative tone.
“At the Black Lion, in our street," replied Jack,
without hesitation.
“The worst house in the neighbourhood—the con.
stant haunt of reprobates and thieves, groaned
Wood. “And who taught it you--the landlord, Joe
Hind ?”
"No; one Blueskin, a fellow who frequents the
Lion,” answered Jack, with a degree of candour that
astonished his master nearly as much as his confidence.
"It was that song that put it into my head to cut my
name on the beam."
“A white wall is a fool's paper, Jack--remember
that,” rejoined Wood. “ Pretty company for an appren-
tice to keep!-a pretty house for an apprentice to
frequent! Why, the rascal you mention is a notorious
housebreaker. He was tried at the last Old Bailey
sessions, and only escaped the gallows by impeaching
his accomplices. Jonathan Wild brought him off.”
“Do you happen to know Jonathan Wild, master ?”
inquired Jack, altering his tone, and assuming a more
respectful demeanour.
“I've seen him some years ago, I believe," answered


JACK SHEPPARD
87
Wood ; "and though he must be much changed by
this time, I dare say I should know him again.'
"A short man, isn't he, about your height, sir,
with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's ?”
“Hem!” replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal
a smile; "the description's not amiss. But why do
you ask ?"
“Because" stammered the boy.
"Speak out—don't be alarmed,” said Wood, in a
kind and encouraging tone. “If you've done wrong,
confess it, and I'll forgive you !"
“I don't deserve to be forgiven !” returned Jack,
bursting into tears; "for I'm afraid I've done very
wrong. Do you know this, master ?” he added, taking
a key from his pocket.
“Where did you find it?" inquired Wood.
"It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other
night with Blueskin at the Lion; and who, though he
slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin
in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild,"
answered Jack.
“Where did he get it?" inquired Wood in surprise.
" That I can't say. But he promised to give me a
couple of guineas if I'd ascertain whether it fitted your
locks."
“Zounds !” exclaimed Wood ; “it's my old master-
key. This key,” he added, taking it from the boy,
was purloined from me by your father, Jack. What
he intended to do with it is of little consequence
But before he suffered at Tyburn he charged
your mother to restore it. She lost it in the Mint.
Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her."
“He must !” exclaimed Jack hastily; "but only let
me have it till to-morrow, and if I don't en trap him in
a snare from which, with all his cunning, he shall find
it difficult to escape, my name's not Jack Sheppard.”
"I see through your design, Jack," returned the
now.
>>


88
MACK SHEPPARD
sell you.
man.
carpenter gravely. “But I don't like underhand work.
Even when you've a knave to deal with, let your
actions be plain and above-board. That's my maxim;
and it's the maxim of every honest man. It would
be a great matter, I must own, to bring Jonathan
Wild to justice. But I can't consent to the course
you would pursue—at least, not till I've given it due
consideration. In regard to yourself, you've had a
very narrow escape. Wild's intention, doubtless, was
to use you as far as he found necessary, and then to
Let this be a caution to you in future-
with whom, and about what you deal. We're told
that “Whoso is a partner with a thief hateth his own
soul.' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may
yet do well. You promise to become a first-rate work-
But you want one quality, without which all
others are valueless. You want industry—you want
steadiness. Idleness is the key of beggary, Jack. If
you don't conquer this disgraceful propensity in time,
you'll soon come to want; and then nothing can save
you. Be warned by your father's fate. As you brew,
so must you drink. I've engaged to watch over you
as a son, and I will do so as far as I'm able; but if
you neglect my advice, what chance have I of benefit
ing you? On one point I've made up my mind-you
shall either obcy me, or leave me. Please yourself.
Here are your indentures, if you choose to seek another
master."
“I will obey you, master-indeed I will !” implored
Jack, seriously alarmed at the carpenter's calm dis-
pleasure.
« We shall see. Good words, without deeds, are
rushes and reeds. And now take away those cards,
and never let me see them again. Drive away the
cat; throw that measure of gin through the window;
and tell me why you've not so much as touched the
packing-case for Lady Trafford, which I particularly


JACK SHEPPARD
89
desired you to complete against my return. It must be
sent home this evening. She leaves town to-morrow."
“It shall be ready in two hours,” answered Jack,
seizing a piece of wood and a plane ; “it isn't more
than four o'clock. I'll engage to get the job done
by six I didn't expect you home before that hour,
master
“Ah, Jack," said Wood, shaking his head, " where
there's a will there's a way. You can do anything you
please. I wish I could get you to innitate Thames
Darrell.”
“ I'm sure I understand the business of a carpenter
much better than he does,” replied Jack, adroitly
adjusting the board, and using the plane with the
greatest rapidity.
"Perhaps,” replied Wood doubtfully.
“Thames was always your favourite,” observed Jack,
as he fastened another piece of wood on the teeth of
the iron stopper.
“I've made no distinction between you, hitherto,"
answered Wood, “nor shall I do so, unless I'm
compelled.”
“ I've all the hard work to do, at all events,” rejoined
Jack. “But I won't complain. I'd do anything for
Thames Darrell.”
“And Thames Darrell would do anything for you,
Jack,” replied a blithe voice. “What's the matter,
father?” continued the newcomer, addressing Wood.
"Has Jack displeased you? If so, overlook his fault
I'm sure he'll do his best to content you.
Won't
you,
Jack?”
"That I will," answered Sheppard eagerly.
“When it thunders, the thief becomes honest,"
muttered Wood.
“Can I help you, Jack ?” asked Thames, taking up
a plane.
"No, no; let him alone,” interposed Wood. "He
this once.


go
JACK SHEPPARD
11
has undertaken to finish this job by six o'clock, and 1
wish to see whether he'll be as good as his word.”
“He'll have hard work to do it by that time, father,"
remonstrated Thames; “you'd better let me help him."
“On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. "A
little extra exertion will teach him the advantage of
diligence at the proper season. Lost ground must be
regained. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed
your appointed task, my dear? You're never behind-
hand.”
Thames turned away at the question, which he felt
might be construed into a reproach. But Sheppard
answered for him.
“Thames's job was done early this morning,” he
said ; "and if I'd attended to his advice, the packing-
case would have been finished at the same time.”
“You trusted tuo much to your own skill, Jack,"
rejoincd Thames.
“If I could work as fast as you, I
might afford to be as idle. See how he gets on, father,"
he added, appealing to Wood; "the box seems to grow
under his hands."
“You're a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames,”
rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at
his adopted son, whose head he gently patted, " and
give promise of a glorious manhood.”
Thames Darrell was, indeed, a youth of whom a
person of far greater worldly consequence than the
worthy carpenter might have been justly proud.
Though a few months younger than his companion
Jack Sheppard, he was half a head taller, and much
more robustly formed. The two friends contrasted
strikingly with each other. In Darrell's open features
frankness and honour were written in legible characters,
while in Jack's physiognomy cunning and knavery
were as strongly imprinted. In all other respects they
differed as materially. Jack could hardly be accounted
good-looking ; Thames, on the contrary, was one of the


JACK SHEPPARD
91
bandsomest boys possible. Jack's complexion was that
of a gipsy; Darrell's as fresh and bright as a rose.
Jack's mouth was coarse and large, Darrell's small
and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip
which belongs to the bighest order of beauty. Jack's
pose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine
as that of Antinous. The expression pervading the
countenance of the one was vulgarity; of the other,
that which is rarely found except in persons of high
birth. Darrell's eyes were of that clear grey which it
is difficult to distinguish from blue by day and black
at night; and his rich brown hair, which he could not
consent to part with, even on the promise of a new and
modish peruke from his adopted father, fell in thick
glossy ringlets upon his shoulders; whereas Jack's
close black crop imparted the peculiar bullet shape,
already noticed, to bis head.
While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he
might not belie the carpenter's favourable prediction,
Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder
placed against the wall, and, springing with the agility
of an ape upon a frame contrived to sustain short
spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for
a piece of wood required in the work on which he was
engaged. Being in a great hurry, he took little heed
where he set his feet; and a board giving way, he
must have fallen if he had not grasped a large plank laid
upon the transverse beam immediately over his head.
“ Take care, Jack," shouted Thames, who witnessed
the occurence; “that plank isn't properly balanced.
You'll have it down."
The caution came too late. Sheppard's weight had
destroyed the equilibrium of the plank; it swerved,
and slowly descended. Losing his presence of mind,
Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame.
The plank hung over his head. A moment more, and
he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous


92
JACK SHEPPARD
board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its
descent.
“Get from under it, Jack!” vociferated Thames.
"I can't hold it much longer-it'll break my wrist.
Down we come!” he exclaimed, letting go the plank,
which fell with a crash, and leaping after Sheppard,
who had rolled off the frame.
All this was the work of a minute.
“No bones broken, I hope," said Thames, laughing
at Jack, who limped towards the bench, rubbing his
shins as he went.
“All right,” replied Sheppard, with affected in-
difference.
" It's a mercy you both escaped !” ejaculated Wood,
only just finding his tongue. “I declare I'm all in
a cold sweat. “How came you, sir," he continued,
addressing Sheppard, “to venture upon that frame
I always told you some accident would happen."
“Don't scold him, father,” interposed Thames; "ho's
been frightened enough already."
• Well, well, since you desire it, I'll say no more,”
returned Wood. “You haven't hurt your arm, I trust,
my dear?” he added anxiously.
"Only sprained it a little, that's all," answered
Thames;
“the pain will go
off
presently."
“Then you are hurt,” cried the carpenter in
alarm. “Come downstairs directly, and let your
mother look at your wrist. She has an excellent
remedy for a sprain. And do you, Jack, attend
to your work, and mind you don't get into further
mischief."
“Hadn't Jack better go with us?” said Thames.
“His shin may need rubbing.”
“By no means,” rejoined Wood hastily. “A little
suffering will do him good. I meant to give him a
drubbing. That bruise will answer the same purpose.”
" Thames," said Sheppard in a low voice, as he threw
66


JACK SHEPPARD
93
a vindictive glance at the carpenter, “I shan't forget
this. You've saved
my
life.”
“Pshaw ! you'd do as much for me any day, and
think no more about it. It'll be your turn to save
mine next."
“True; and I shan't be easy till my turn arrives.”
“I tell you what, Jack,” whispered Thames, who had
noticed Sheppard's menacing glance with uneasiness,
and dreaded some further indiscretion on his part, “ if
you really wish to oblige me, you'll get that packing-
case finished by six o'clock. You can do it if
you
will."
“And I will if I can, depend upon it," answered
Sheppard, with a smile.
So saying, he manfully resumed his work, while Wood
and Thames quitted the room and went downstairs.
II
Thames Darrell,
THAMES DARRELL's arm having been submitted to the
scrutiny of Mrs. Wood, was pronounced by that lady to
be very much sprained; and she, forthwith, proceeded
to bathe it with a reddish-coloured lotion. During this
operation the carpenter underwent a severe catechism
as to the cause of the accident. On learning that the
mischance originated with Jack Sheppard, the indig.
nation of his helpmate knew no bounds, and she was
with difficulty prevented from flying to the workshop
to inflict summary punishment on the offender.
“I knew how it would be,” she cried, in the shrill
voice peculiar to a shrew, “when you brought that
worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. I
told you no good would come of it. And every day's
experience proves that I was right. But, like all your
סי


94
JACK SHEPPARD,
overbearing sex, you must have your own way. You'll
never be guided by me-never !”
"Indeed, my love, you're entirely mistaken," returned
the carpenter, endeavouring to deprecate his wife's
rising resentment by the softest looks and the meekest
deportment.
So far, however, was this submission from producing
the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional
fuel to her displeasure. Forgetting her occupation in
her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and
squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with
pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and
turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance,
towards her crestfallen spouse.
“What!” she exclaimed, almost choked with passion
“I advised you to burden yourself with that idle
and good-for-nothing pauper, whom you ought rather
to send to the work house than maintain at your own
expense, did I? I advised you to take him as an
apprentice, and, so far from getting the regular fee
with him, to give him a salary? I advised you to feed
him, and clothe him, and treat him like his betters ;
to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults í
I counselled all this, I suppose ?
You'll tell me next,
I dare say, that I recommended you to go and visit
his mother so frequently under the plea of charity; to
give her wine, and provisions, and money; to remove
her from the only fit quarters for such people, the
Mint; and to place her in a cottage at Willesden, of
which you must needs pay the rent? Marry, come up!
charity should begin at home. A discreet husband
would leave the dispensation of his bounty, where
women are concerned, to his wife. And for my part,
if I were inclined to exercise my benevolence at all, it
should be in favour of some more deserving object than
that whining, hypocritical Magdalene."
" It was the knowledge of this feeling on your


JACK SHEPPARD
95
part, my love, that made me act without your express
sanction [ did all for the best, I'm sure. Mrs.
Sheppard is —"
“I know what Mrs. Sheppard is, without your
information, sir. I haven't forgotten her previous
history You've your own reasons, no doubt, for
bringing up her son-perhaps I ought rather to say
your son, Mr. Wood.”
“Really, my love, these accusations are most ground-
less—this violence is most unnecessary.”
“I can't endure the odious baggage. I hope I may
never come near her.”
“I hope you never may, my love,” humbly acquiesced
the carpenter.
“Is my house to be made a receptacle for all your
natural children, sir? Answer me that.”
“Winny," said Thames, whose glowing cheek attested
the effect produced upon him by the insinuation-
“ Winny," said he, addressing a pretty little damsel of
some twelve years of age, who stood by his side holding
the bottle of embrocation, “help me on with my coat,
please. This is no place for me.'
“Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs.
Wood, softening her asperity. “What I said about
natural children doesn't apply to you. Don't suppose,”
she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate,
" that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he
could possibly be the father of such a boy as you."
Mr. Wood lifted up his hands in mute despair.
"Owen, Owen,” pursued Mrs. Wood, sinking into a
chair, and fanning herself violently, “what a fluster
you have put me into with your violence, to be sure !
And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expect-
ing a visit from Mr. Kneebone, on his return from
Manchester. I wouldn't have him see me in this state
for the world. He'd never forgive you."
“Pooh, pooh, my dear! Mr. Kneebone invariably •


96
JACK SHEPPARD
66
takes part with me, when any triling misunderstanding
arises between us. I only wish he wasn't a Papist and
a Jacobite."
“ Jacobite !" echoed Mrs. Wood. • Marry, come
up! Mightn't he just as reasonably complain of your
being a Hanoverian and a Presbyterian? It's all
matter of opinion. And now, my love,” she added,
with a relenting look, “ I'm content to make up our
quarrel. But you must promise me not to go near
that abandoned hussy at Willesdea. One can't help
being jealous, you know, even of an unworthy object "
Glad to make peace on any terms, Mr. Wood gave
the required promise, though he could not help think-
ing that, if either of them had cause to be jealous,
he was the party.
And here we may be permitted to offer an observation
upon the peculiar and unaccountable influence which
ladies of a shrewish turn so frequently exercise over
--we can scarcely, in this case, say--their lords and
masters; an influence which seems not merely to extend
to the will of the husband, but even to his inclinations.
We do not remember to have met with a single indi-
vidual, reported to be under petticoat government, who
was not content with his lot--nay who, so far from
repining, did not exult in his servitude; and we see
no way of accounting for this apparently inexplicable
conduct--for which, among other phenomena of married
life, various reasons have been assigned, though none
entirely satisfactory to us—except upon the ground
that these domineering dames possess some charm
sufficiently strong to counteract the irritating effect of
their tempers; some secret and attractive quality of
which the world at large is in ignorance, and with
which their husbands alone can be supposed to be
acquainted. An influence of this description appeared
to be exerted on the present occasion. The worthy
carpenter was restored to instant good humour by a


JACK SHEPPARD
97
glance from his belpmate ; and, notwithstanding the
infliction he had just endured, he would have quarrelled
with any one who bad endeavoured to persuade bim
that he was not the bappiest of men, and Mrs. Wood
the best of wives.
“Women must have their will while they live, since
they can make pone when they die," observed Wood,
as be imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump
hand of his consort-a sentiment to the correctness of
which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed
her assent.
Lest the carpenter should be taxed with too much
uxoriousness, it behoves us to ascertain whether the
personal attractions of his helpmate would, in any
degree, justify the devotion he displayed. In the first
place, Mrs. Wood had the advantage of her husband in
point of years, being on the sunny side of forty—a
period pronounced by competent judges to be the most
fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch
of woman's existence; whereas he was on the shady
side of fifty-a term of life not generally conceived to
have any special recommendation in female eyes. In
the next place, she really had some pretensions to
beauty. Accounted extremely pretty in her youth, her
features and person expanded as she grew older without
much detriment to their original comeliness. Hers was
beauty on a large scale, no doubt; but it was beauty,
nevertheless, and the carpenter thought her eyes as
bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if
a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he
led her to the altar some twenty years ago.
On the
present occasion, in anticipation of Mr. Kneebone's
visit, Mrs. Wood was dressed with more than ordinary
care and in more than ordinary finery. A dove-coloured
kincob gown, embroidered with large trees, and made
very low in front, displayed to the greatest possible
advantage the rounded proportions of her figure ; while


98
JACK SHEPPARD
a high-heeled, red leather shoe did not detract from the
symmetry of a very neat ankle and a very small foot.
A stomacher, fastened by imitation diamond buckles,
girded that part of her person which should have been
a waist; a coral necklace encircled her throat; and it
few black patches, or mouches, as they were termed,
served as a foil to the bloom of her cheek and chin.
Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited
on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of
pink kid gloves bordered with lace, and an enormous
fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamor-
phosis and death of Actæon. From her stomacher, to
which it was attached by a multitude of glittering steel
chains, depended an immense turnip-shaped watch in
a pinchbeck case. Her hair was gathered up behind
in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode ;
and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners, with crow-
foot edging. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her
shoulders, and over the kincob gown hung a yellow
satin apron, trimmed with white Persian.
But, in spite of her attractions, we shall address
ourselves to the younger and more interesting couple.
"I could almost find in my heart to quarrel with
Jack Sheppard for occasioning you so much pain,"
observed little Winifred Wood, as, having completed
her ministration to the best of her ability, she helped
Thames on with his coat.
“I don't think you could find in your heart to
quarrel with any one, Winny, much less with a person
whom I like so much as Jack Sheppard. My arm's
nearly well again. And I've already told you the
accident was not Jack's fault. So, let's think no more
about it.”
“It's strange you should like Jack so much, dear
Thames. He doesn't resemble you at all.”
The very reason why I like him, Winny. If he
did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him And,


JACK SHEPPARD
99
whatever you may think, I assure you Jack's a down-
right good-natured fellow."
Good-natured fellows are always especial favourites
with boys. In applying the term to his friend, Thames
meant to pay him a high compliment; and so Winifred
understood him.
“Well,” she said in reply, "I may have done Jack an
injustice. I'll try to think better of him in future."
“And, if you want additional inducement to do so,
I can tell you there's no one not even his mother-
whom he loves so well as you.”
"Loves !” echoed Winifred, slightly colouring.
"Yes, loves, Winny. Poor fellow.! he sometimes
indulges the hope of marrying you when grows
old
enough.”
" Thames ! ”
“Have I said anything to offend you ?"
“Oh! no. But if you wouldn't have me positively
dislike Jack Sheppard, you'll never mention such a
subject again. Besides,” she added, blushing yet more
deeply, “it isn't a proper one to talk upon.”
“Well, then, to change 'it,” replied Thames gravely,
suppose I should be obliged to leave you.'
Winifred looked as if she could not indulge such a
supposition for a single moment.
“Surely,” she said, after a pause, "you don't attach
any importance to what my mother has just said. She
has already forgotten it."
“But I never can forget it, Winny. I will no longer
be a burden to those upon whom I have no claim but
compassion."
As he said this, in a low and mournful but firm
voice, the tears gathered thickly in Winifred's eye-
lashes.
"If you are in earnest, Thames,” she replied, with
a look of gentle reproach, "you are very foolish; and
if in jest, very cruel. My mother, I'm sure, didn't


100
JACK SHEPPARD
intend to hurt your feelings. She loves you too well
for that. And I'll answer for it, she'll never say a
syllable to annoy you again."
Thames tried to answer her, but his voice failed him.
“Come! I see the storm has blown over," cried
Winifred, brightening up.
“You're mistaken, Winny. Nothing can alter my
| determination. I shall quit this roof to-morrow.
The little girl's countenance fell.
“Do nothing without consulting my father --your
father, Thames,” she implored. " Promise me that."
“Willingly. And what's more, I promise to abide
by his decision."
“Then I'm quite easy,” cried Winifred joyfully.
“I'm sure he won't attempt to prevent me," rejoined
Thames.
The slight smile that played upon Winifred's lips
seemed to say that she was not quite so sure.
But she
made no answer.
“In casc he should consent-
“He never will,” interrupted Winifred.
“In case he should, I say,” continued Thames, "will
you promise to let Jack Sheppard take my place in
your affections, Winny ?"
“Never !” replied the little damsel. "I can never
love any one so much as you."
“Excepting your father.”
Winifred was going to say “No," but she checked
berself; and, with cheeks mantling with blushes,
murmured, “I wish you wouldn't tease me about
Jack Sheppard."
The foregoing conversation, having been conducted
throughout in a low tone and apart, had not reached
the ears of Mr. and Mrs. Wood, who were, furthermore,
engaged in a little conjugal tête-à-tête of their own.
The last observation, however, caught the attention of
the carpenter's wife.


JACK SHEPPARD
IOI
"What's that you're saying about Jack Sheppard ? "
she cried.
"Thames was just observing—" replied Winifred.
“Thames !” echoed Mrs. Wood, glancing angrily at
her husband. “There's another instance of your wil-
fulness and want of taste. Who but you would have
dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's
the name of a river, not a Christian. No gentleman
was ever called Thames; and Darrell is a gentleman,
unless the whole story of his being found in the river
is a fabrication !"
“My dear, you forget-"
"No, Mr. Wood, I forget nothing. I've an excellent
memory, thank God! And I perfectly remember that
everybody was drowned on that occasion-except your.
self and the child ! "
“My love, you're beside yourself -"
“I was beside myself to take charge of your-
“Mother!” interposed Winifred.
“It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with
a look that chilled the little damsel's heart; “my
resolution is taken.
“You at least appear to forget that Mr. Kneebone
is coming, my dear," ventured Mr. Wood.
“Good gracious! so I do,” exclaimed his amiable
consort. “But you do agitate me so much. Come
into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly,
or I'll send you to bed. Mr. Wood, I desire you'll put
on your best things, and join us as soon as possible.
Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your
Mr. Kneebone will excuse you. Dear me! if
there isn't his knock. Oh! I'm in such a fluster !”
Upon which she snatched up her fan, cast a look
into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft
expression into her features, and led the way into the
next room, whither she was followed by her daughter
and Thames Darrell.
arm.


102
JACK SHEPPARD
III
The Jacobite.
MR. WILLIAM KNEEBONE was a woolleu-draper of
“credit and renown," whose place of business was
held at the sign of the Angel (for in those days every
shop had its sign), opposite Saint Clement's Church,
in the Strand. A native of Manchester, he was the
son of Kenelm Kneebone, a staunch Catholic and a
sergeant of dragoons, who lost his legs and his life
while fighting for James the Second at the Battle of the
Boyne, and who had little to bequeath his son except
his laurels and his loyalty to the house of Stuart.
The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-
sixth year. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face,
stood six feet two in his stockings, and measured more
than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulder3-athletic
proportions derived from his father, the dragoon. And,
if it had not been for a taste for plotting, which was
continually getting him into scrapes, he might have
been accounted a respectable member of society.
Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more
dark and dangerous complexion. The times were such
that, with the opinions he entertained, he could not
remain idle. The spirit of disaffection was busy
throughout the kingdom. It was on the eve of that
memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months
later, in Scotland. Since the accession of George the
First to the throne in the preceding year, every effort
had been made by the partisans of the Stuarts to shake
the credit of the existing government, and to gain sup-
porters to their cause. Disappointed in their hopes of
the restoration of the fallen dynasty after the death of
Anne, the adherents of the Chevalier de Saint George


JACK SHEPPARD
103
endeavoured, by sowing the seeds of dissension far and
wide, to produce a general insurrection in his favour.
No means
were neglected to accomplish this end.
Agents were dispersed in all directions - offers the
most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join
the Chevalier's standard. Plots were hatched in the
provinces, where many of the old and wealthy Catholic
families resided, whose zeal for the martyr of their
religion (as the Chevalier was esteemed), sharpened
by the persecutions they themselves endured, rendered
them hearty and efficient allies. Arms, horses, and
accoutrements were secretly purchased and distributed ;
and it is not improbable that if the unfortunate prince,
in whose behalf these exertions were made, and who
was not deficient in courage, as he proved at the battle
of Malplaquet, had boldly placed himself at the head
of his party at an earlier period, he might have regained
the crown of his ancestors. But the indecision, which
had been fatal to his race, was fatal to him. He
delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was
passed. And when at length it was struck, he wanted
energy to pursue his advantages.
But we must not anticipate the course of events.
At the precise period of this history the Jacobite party
was full of hope and confidence. Louis the Fourteenth
yet lived, and expectations were therefore indulged
of assistance from France. The disgrace of the leaders
of the late Tory administration had strengthened rather
than injured their cause. Mobs were gathered together
on the slightest possible pretext; and these tumultuous
assemblages, while committing the most outrageous
excesses, loudly proclaimed their hatred to the house
of Hanover, and their determination to cut off the
Protestant succession. The proceedings of this faction
were narrowly watched by a vigilant and sagacious
administration. The government was not deceived
(indeed, every opportunity was sought by the Jacobitos


104
JACK SHEPPARD
of parading their numbers). as to the force of its
enemies, and precautionary measures were taken to
defeat their desigus. On the very day of which we
write, namely, the 10th of June 1715, Bolingbroke
and Oxford were impeached for high treason. The
Committee of Secrecy—that English Council of Ten-
were sitting, with Walpole at their head; and the most
extraordinary discoveries were reported to be made. On
the same day, moreover, which, by a curious coincidence,
was the birthday of the Chevalier de Saint George,
mobs were collected together in the streets, and the
health of that prince was publicly drunk, under the title
of James the Third ; while in many country towns
the bells were rung and rejoicings held, as if for a
reigning monarch : the cry of the populace almost
universally being, “No King George, but a Stuart !”
The adherents of the Chevalier de Saint George, it
has been said, were la vish in promises to their proselytes.
Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them. Blank
commissions, signed by the prince, to be filled up by the
name of the person who could raise a troop for his service,
were liberally bestowed. Amongst others, Mr. Kneebone,
whose interest was not inconsiderable with the leadere
of his faction, obtained an appointment as captain in a
regiment of infantry, on the conditions above specified.
With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the
warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under
the colour of a journey on business. He was pretty
successful in Manchester-a town which formed the
headquarters of the disaffected. On his return to
London he found that applications had been made, from
a somewhat doubtful quarter, by two individuals for
the post of subordinate officers in his troop. Mr. Knee
bone, or, as he would have preferred being styled, Captain
Kneebone, was not perfectly satisfied with the recom-
mendations forwarded by the applicants. But this
was not a season in which to be needlessly scrupulous.


JACK SHEPPARD
105
He resolved to judge for himself. Accordingly, he
was introduced to the two military aspirants at the
Cross Shovels, in the Mint, by our old acquaintance,
Baptist Kettleby. The Master of the Mint, with whom
the Jacobite captain had often transactions before,
vouched for their being men of honour and loyalty ;
and Kneebone was so well satisfied with his representa-
tions, that he at once closed the matter by administering
to the applicants the oath of allegiance and fidelity tn
King James the Third, and several other oaths besides,
all of which those gentlemen took with as little hesita-
tion as the sum of money, afterwards tendered, to make
the compact binding. The party then sat down to a
bowl of punch; and, at its conclusion, Captain Kneebone
regretted that an engagement to spend the evening
with Mrs. Wood would preclude the possibility of his
remaining with his new friends as long as his inclina-
tions prompted. At this piece of information the two
subordinate officers were observed to exchange glances ;
and after a little agreeable raillery 'on their captain's
gallantry, they begged permission to accompany him
in his visit. Kneebone, who had drained his glass to
the restoration of the house of Stuart and the downfall
of the house of Hanover more frequently than was
consistent with prudence, consented; and the trio set
out for Wych Street, where they arrived in the jolliest
humour possible.
IV
Mr. Kneebone and his Friends.
Mrs. Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. Kneebone
made his appearance.
To her great surprise and
mortification, he was not alone; but brought with
him a couple of friends, whom he begged to introduce


106
JACK SHEPPARD
as Mr. Jeremiah Jackson and Mr. Solomon Smith,
chapmen (or what in modern vulgar parlance would be
termed bagmen), travelling to procure orders for the
house of an emineut cloth manufacturer in Manchester
Neither the manners, the looks, nor attire of these
gentlemen prepossessed Mrs. Wood in their favour.
Accordingly, on their presentation, Mr. Jeremiah
Jacksou and Mr. Solomon Smith received something
very like a rebuff. Luckily, they were not easily dis-
Craposed. Two persons possessing a more comfort-
able stock of assurance could not be readıly found.
Imitating the example of Mr Kueebone, who did not
appear in the slightest degree disconcerted by his cool
reception, each sank carelessly into a chuir and made
himself at home in a moment. Buth had very singular
faces; very odd wigs, very much pulled over their
brows; and very large cravats, very much raiscd above
their chins. Besides this, each had a large patch over
his right eye, and a very queer twist at the loft side of
his mouth; so that, if their object had been disyuise,
they could not have adopted better precautions. Mrs.
Wood thought them both remarkably plain, but Mr.
Smith decidedly the plainest of the two.
His com-
plexion was as blue as a sailor's jacket; and though
Mr. Jackson had one of the ugliest countenances
imaginable, he had a very fine set of teeth. That was
something in his favour. One peculiarity she did not
fail to notice. They were both dressed in every respect
alike. In fact, Mr. Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr.
Jeremiah Jackson's double. He talked in the same
style and pretty nearly in the same language, laughed
in the same manner, and coughed or sneezed at the
same time.
Tf Mr. Jackson took an accurate survey
of the room with his one eye, Mr. Smith's solitary
orb followed in the same direction. When Jeremiah
admired the compasses in the arms of the Carpenters'
Company over the chimney-piece, or the portraits of


JACK SHEPPARD
107
the two eminent masters of the rule and plane, William
Portington and John Scott, Esquires, on either side of
it, Solomon was lost in wonder. When Mr. Jackson
noticed a fine service of old blue china in an open
Japan closet, Mr. Smith had never seen anything like
it. And finally, when Jeremiah, having bestowed upon
Mrs. Wood a very free-and-easy sort of stare, winked
at Mr. Kneebone, his impertinence was copied to the
letter by Solomon. All three then burst into an
immoderate fit of laughter. Mrs. Wood's astonishment
and displeasure momentarily increased. Such freedoms
from such people were not to be endured. Her patience
was waning fast. Still, in spite of her glances and
gestures, Mr. Kneebone made no effort to check the
unreasonable merriment of his companions, but rather
seemed to encourage it.
So Mrs. Wood went on
fuming, and the trio went on laughing for some
minutes, nobody knew why or wherefore, until the party
was increased by Mr. Wood in his Sunday habiliments
and Sunday buckle. Without stopping to inquire into
the cause of their mirth, or even to ask the names of his
guests, the worthy carpenter shook hands with the one-
eyed chapmen, slapped Mr. Kneebone cordially on the
shoulder, and began to laugh as heartily as any of them.
Mrs. Wood could stand it no longer.
“I think you're all bewitched," she cried.
“So we are, ma'am, by your charms,” returned
Mr. Jackson gallantly.
"Quite captivated, ma'am," added Mr. Smith, placing
his hand on his breast.
Mr. Kneebone and Mr. Wood laughed louder than
ever.
“Mr. Wood." said the lady, bridling up,"iny request
may, perhaps, have some weight with you. I desire,
sir, you'll recollect yourself. Mr. Kneebone,” she added,
with a glance at that gentleman which was meant to
speak daggers, “will do as he pleases."


108
JACK SHEPPARD
3
Here the chapmen set up another boisterous peal.
“No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. W.," said Mr.
Kneebone, in a conciliatory tone. “My friends, Mr.
Jackson and Mr. Smith, may have rather odd ways
with them, but
“They have very odd ways," interrupted Mrs. Wood
disdainfully.
“Our worthy friend was going to observe, ma’am,
that we never fail in our devotion to the fair sex," said
Mr. Jackson.
“Never, ma'am!" echoed Mr. Smith, "upon my
conscience."
“My dear," said the hospitable carpenter, “I dare-
say Mr. Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a
little refreshment.”
“They shall have it, then,” replied his better half,
rising “ You base ingrate,” she added in a whisper,
as she flounced past Mr. Kneebone on her way to the
door, "how could you bring such creatures with you,
especially on an occasion like this, when we haven't
met for a fortnight!”
“Couldn't help it, my life,” returned the gentleman
addressed, in the same tone; “but you little know
who those individuals are."
“Lord bless us ! you alarm me. Who are they?”
Mr. Kneebone assumed a mysterious air, and bringing
his lips close to Mrs. Wood's ear, whispered, “Secret
agents from France-you understand-friends to the
good cause--ahem !"
2-persons of rank ?”
Mr. Kneebone nodded.
“Noblemen ? "
Mr. Kneebona smiled assent.
“Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite
out o' the common. And so, the invasion really is to
take place after all; and the Chevalier de Saint George
is to land at the Tower with fifty thousand Frenchmen;
"I see-


JACK SHEPPARD
109
and the Hanoverian usurper's to be beheaded; and
Doctor Sacheverel's to be made a bishop; and we're
all to be-eh?"
"All in good time," returned Kneebone, putting his
finger to his lips; "don't let your imagination run
away with you, my charmer. That boy,” he added,
looking at Thames, “has his eye upon us.”
Mrs. Wood, bowever, was too much excited to attend
to the caution.
"O lud!" she cried ; “ French noblemen in disguise !
and so rude as I was ! I shall never recover it!”
"A good supper will set all to rights,” insinuated
Kneebone. “But be prudent, my angel."
“Never fear," replied the lady. “I'm prudence
personified. You might trust me with the Chevalier
himself—I'd never betray him. But why didn't you
let me know they were coming? I'd have got some-
thing nice. As it is, we've only a couple of ducks-
and they were intended for you. Winny, my love,
come with me. I shall want you. Sorry to quit your
lord—worships, I mean-
-I don't know what I mean,'
she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound
curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom re-
plied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of
the blood at the least;
" but I've a few necessary
orders to give below.”
“Don't mind us, ma'am, ,” said Mr. Jackson ; “ha !
ha!”
"Not in the least, ma'am," echoed Mr. Smith;
sho! ho!”
“How condescending !” thought Mrs. Wocd. "Not
proud in the least, I declare. Well, I'd no idea,” she
continued, purzuing her ruminations as she left the
room, “that people of quality laughed so. But it's
French manners, I suppose.”


110
JACK SHEPPARD
Hawk and Buzzard.
Mrs. Wood's anxiety to please her distinguished guests
speedily displayed itself in a very plentiful if not very
dainty repast. To the ducklings, peas, and other deli-
cacies, intended for Mr. Kneebone's special consump-
tion, she added a few impromptu dishes, tossed off in her
best style—such as lamb chops, broiled kidneys, fried
ham and eggs, and toasted cheese. Side by side with
the cheese (its never-failing accompaniment, in all
seasons, at the carpenter's board) came a tankard of
swig, and a toast. Besides these there was a warm
gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon-pie, the latter capa-
cious enough, even allowing for its due complement of
steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a
couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon,
swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest
of fennel. While the cloth was laid, the host and
Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned
laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and
apparently destined to the same use, as those depicted
in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight
Conversation.
Mrs. Wood now reappeared with a very red face,
and, followed by Winifred, took her seat at the table.
Operations then commenced. Mr. Wood carved the
ducks; Mr. Kneebone helped to the pigeon-pie; while
Thames unwired and uncorked a bottle of stout Car-
narvonshire ale. The woollen-draper was no despicable
trencherman in a general way; but his feats with the
knife and fork were child's sport compared with those
of Mr. Smith. The leg and wing of a duck were
disposed of by this gentleman in a twinkling; a brace


JACK SHEPPARD
III
01 pigeons and a pound of steak followed with equal
celerity; and he had just begun to make a fierce assault
upon the eggs and ham. His appetite was perfectly
Gargantuan. Nor must it be imagined that while he
thus exercised his teeth he neglected the flagon. On
the contrary, his glass was never idle, and finding it
not filled quite so frequently as he desired, he applied
himself, notwithstanding the expressive looks and
muttered remonstrances of Mr. Jackson, to the swig.
The latter gentleman did full justice to the good things
before him ; but he drank sparingly, and was visibly
annoyed by his companion's intemperance. As to
Mr. Kneebone, what with flirting with Mrs. Wood,
carving for his friends, and pledging the carpenter, he
had his hands ful). At this juncture, and just as a
cuckoo-clock in the corner struck six, Jack Sheppard
walked into the room with the packing-case under his
arm.
"I was in the right, you see, father," observed
Thames, smiling; "Jack has done his task.”
“So I perceive," replied Wood.
“Where am I to take it to?" asked Sheppard.
"I told you that before," rejoined Wood testily.
“ You must take it to Sir Rowland Trenchard's, in
Southampton Fields. And mind, it's for his sister,
Lady Trafford.”
“Very well, sir," replied Sheppard.
Wet your whistle before you start, Jack," said
Kneebone, pouring out a glass of ale. “What's that
you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's ?”
“Only a box, sir,” answered Sheppard, emptying
the glass.
“It's an odd-shaped one,” rejoined Kneebone, exa-
mining it attentively. “But I can guess what it's
for. Sir Rowland is one of us,” he added, winking
at his companions, “and so was his brother-in-law, Sir
Cecil Trafford. Old Lancashire families, both. Strict


112
JACK SHEPPARD
Catholics, and loyal to the back bone. Fine woman,
Lady Trafford—a little on the wane, though
“Ab! you're so very particular," sighed Mrs. Wood.
“Not in the least,” returned Kneebone slyly; "not
in the least. Another glass, Jack ?"
“Thank'e, sir,” grinned Sheppard.
“Off with it, to the health of King James the Third,
and confusion to his enemies !”
“Hold !” interposed Wood; "that is treason. I'll
have no such toast drunk at my table !"
“It's the king's birthday," urged the woollen-draper.
“Not my king's," returned Wood. “I quarrel with
no man's political opinions, but I will have my own
respected!
“Eh day!” exclaimed Mrs. Wood; "here's a pretty
to-do about nothing. Marry, come up! I'll see who's.
to be obeyed. Drink the next toast, Jack.”
“At your peril, sirrah !” cried Wood.
“He was hanged that left his drink behind, you
know, master," rejoined Sheppard.
“Here's King
James the Third, and confusion to his enemies !"
“Very well,” said the carpenter, sitting down amid
the laughter of the company.
“Jack !” cried Thames, in a loud voice, "you deserve
to be hanged for a rebel, as you are, to your lawful
king and your lawful master. But since we must
have toasts,” he added, snatching up a glass, "listen to
mine: Here's King George the First ! a long reign to
him ! and confusion to the Popish Pretender and his
adherents !”
· Bravely done !” said Wood, with tears in his eyes.
“That's the kinchin as was to try the dub for us,
ain't it?" muttered Smith to his companion, as he
stole a glance at Jack Sheppard.
“Silence !” returned Jackson, in a deep whisper,
“and don't muddle your brains with any more of that
Pharaoh. You'll need all your strength to grab him,”.


JACK SHEPPARD
113
" What's the matter ?” remarked Kneebone, address-
ing Sheppard, who, as he caught the single but
piercing eye of Jackson fixed upon him, started and
trembled.
“What's the matter ?” repeated Mrs. Wood, in a
sharp tone.
** Ay, what's the matter, boy?" reiterated Jackson
sternly. “Did you never see two gentlemen with only
a couple of peepers between them before ?”
"Never, I'll be sworn!” said Smith, taking the
opportunity of filling his glass while his comrade's
back was turned ; " we're a nat’ral curiosity.”
“Can I have a word with you, master ?” said
Sheppard, approaching Wood.
“Not a syllable !" answered the carpenter angrily.
“Get about your
business !"
“Thames !” cried Jack, beckoning to his friend.
But Darrell averted his head.
“Mistress !” said the apprentice, making a final
appeal to Mrs. Wood.
"Leave the room instantly, sirrah !” rejoined the
lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek
that made his eyes flash fire.
“May I be cursed,” muttered Sheppard, as he slunk
away with (as the woollen-draper pleasantly observed)
"a couple of boxes in charge," "if ever I try to be
honest again."
- Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr.
Smith," observed Wood. “That's an incorrigible
rascal,” he added, as Sheppard closed the door; "it's
only to-day that I discovered-
“What?" asked Jackson, pricking up
“Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father,"
interposed Thames.
"If I were your father, young gentleman,” remarked
Jackson, enraged at the interruptiod "I'd teach you
not to speak till you were spoken to."
his ears.


164
JACK SHEPPARD
its
Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood
checked him.
“The rebuke is just,” said the carpenter ; " at the
same time, I'm not sorry to find you're a friend to fair
play, which, as you seem to know, is a jewel. Open
that bottle with a blue seal, my dear. Gentlemen!
a glass of brandy will be no bad finish to our meal.”
This proposal giving general satisfaction, the bottle
circulated swiftly; and Smith found the liquor so
much to his taste, that he made it pay double toll on
passage.
"Your son is a lad of spirit, Mr. Wood," observed
Jackson, in a slightly sarcastic tone.
“He's not my son,” rejoined the carpenter.
“How, sir?"
"Except by adoption. Thames Darrell is"
“My husband nicknames him Thames," interrupted
Mrs. Wood, “because he found him in the river !
ha! ha!”
“Ha! ha!" echoed Smith, taking another bumper
of brandy; "he'll set the Thames on fire one of these
days, I'll warrant him!”
“That's more than you'll ever do, you drunken fool!”
growled Jackson in an undertone ; be cautious, or
you'll spoil all!”
“Suppose. we send for a bowl of punch," said
Kneebone.
“With all my heart !” replied Wood. And, turning
to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a
low tone.
Winifred accordingly left the room, and a servant
being despatched to the nearest tavern, soon afterwards
returned with a crown bowl of the ambrosian fluid.
The tables were then cleared. Bottles and glasses
usurped the place of dishes and plates. Pipes were
lighted; and Mr. Kneebone began to dispense the
fragrant fluid ; begging Mrs. Wood, in a whisper, as


JACK SHEPPARD
115
he filled a rummer to the brim, not to forget the health
of the Chevalier de Saint George--a proposition to
which the lady immediately responded by drinking
the toast aloud.
“The Chevalier shall hear of this,” whispered the
woollen-draper.
“You don't say so !” replied Mrs. Wood, delighted
at the idea.
Mr. Kneebone assured her that he did say so, and,
as a further proof of his sincerity, squeezed her hand
very warmly under the table. Mr. Smith, now being
more than half-seas over, became very uproarious, and
claiming the attention of the table, volunteered the
following
DRINKING SONG.
I.
Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip
Are dug from the mines of canary,
And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip
With hogshead of claret and sherry.
II.
Jolly nose! he who sees thee across a broad glass
Beholds thee in all thy perfection ;
And to the pale snonit of a temperate ass
Entertains the profoundest objection.
III.
For a big-bellied glass is the palette I use,
And the choicest of wine is my colour;
And I find that my nose takes the mellowest hues
The fuller I fill it-the fuller!
IV.
Jolly nose i there are fools who say drink hurts the sight;
Such dullards know nothing about it.
'Tis better with wine to extinguish the light,
Than live always in darkness without it.
1 Arranged by Mr. G. Herbert Rodwell.


116
JACK SHEPPARD
“How long may it be since that boy was found in.
the way Mrs. Wood mentions?” inquired Jackson, as
soon as the clatter that succeeded Mr. Smith’s melody
had subsided.
“Let me see,” replied Wood; “exactly twelve years
ago last November.
“Why, that must be about the time of the Great
Storm,” rejoined Jackson.
"Egad !” exclaimed Wood, “you've hit the right
nail on the head, anyhow. It was on the night of
the Great Storm that I found him."
“I should like to hear all the particulars of the
affair,” said Jackson, "if it wouldn't be troubling you
too much.”
Mr. Wood required little pressing He took a sip
of punch and commenced his relation. Though meant
to produce a totally different effect, the narrative seemed
to excite the risible propensities rather than the com-
miseration of his auditor; and when Mr. Wood wound
it up by a description of the drenching he had under-
gone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no
longer, but leaning back in his chair, gave free scope
to his merriment.
“I beg your pardon," he cried; "but really-ha! ha!
-you must excuse me !—that is so uncommonly divert-
ing !-ha! ha! Do let me hear it again-ha! ha! ha!"
Upon my word,” rejoined Wood, “you seem vastly
entertained by my misfortunes.”
"To be sure ! Nothing entertains me so much.
People always rejoice at the misfortunes of others-
never at their own! The droll dogs ! how they must
have enjoyed it !-ha!-ha!"
“I dare say they did. But I found it no laughing
matter, I can assure you. And, though it's a long
time ago, I feel as sore on the subject as ever.”
“Quite natural! Never forgive an injury !—I never
do !-ha! ha!"
66


JACR SHEPPARD
117
6
“Really, Mr. Jackson, I could almost fancy we had
met before. Your laugh reminds me of-of-of-
“Whose, sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming sud-
denly grave.
“You'll not be offended, I hope,” returned Wood
dryly, “if I say that your voice, your manner, and,
above all, your very extraordinary way of laughing,
put me strangely in mind of one of the droll dogs'
(as you term them) who helped to perpetrate the out-
rage I have just described.”
“Whom do you mean?" demanded Jackson.
“I allude to an individual who has since acquired
an infamous notoriety as a thief-taker; but who, in
those days, was himself the associate of thieves."
*Well, sir, his name?"
“Jonathan Wild.”
“ 'Sblood !” cried Jackson, rising, “I can't sit still
and hear Mr. Wild, whom I believe to be as honest a
gentleman as any in the kingdom, calumniated!”
"Fire and fury!" exclaimed Smith, getting up with
the brandy-bottle in his grasp; "no man shall abuse
Mr. Wild in my presence ! He's the right hand of the
community. We could do nothing without him !”
“We ! ” repeated Wood significantly.
“Every honest man, sir ! He helps us to our own
again."
“Humph !” ejaculated the carpenter.
“Surely,” said Thames, laughing, “to one who
entertains so bigh an opinion of Jonathan Wild as
Mr. Jackson appears to do, it can't be very offensive
to be told that he's like him."
“I don't object to the likeness, if any such exists,
young sir,” returned Jackson, darting an angry glance
at Thames; “indeed, I'm rather flattered by being
thought to resemble a gentleman of Mr. Wild's figure.
But I can't submit to hear the well-earned reputation
of my friend termed an 'infamous notoriety.'”
66


118
JACK SHEPPARD
an
“No, we can't stand that,” hiccupped Smith, scarcely
able to keep his legs.
“Well, gentlemen,” rejoined Wood mildly, "since
Mr. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said.
I've no doubt he's as honest as either of you.”
“Enough,” returned Jackson, extending his hand;
"and if I've expressed myself warmly, I'm sorry for
it likewise. But you must allow me to observe, my
good sir, that you're wholly in the wrong respecting my
friend. Mr. Wild never was the associate of thieves."
“Never,” echoed Smith emphatically, “upon my
honour."
“ I'm satisfied with your assurance,” replied the
carpenter dryly.
“It's more than I am," muttered Thames.
I was not aware that Jonathan Wild was
acquaintance of yours, Mr. Jackson,” said Mr. Knee-
bonc, whose assiduity to Mrs. Wood had prevented him
from paying much attention to the previous scene.
“ I've known him all my lifc,” replied the other.
“The devil you have! Then perhaps you can tell
me when he intends to put his threat into execution ?"
“What threat ?" asked Jackson.
Why, of hanging the fellow who acts as his jackal
-one Blake, or Blueskin, I think he's called."
"You've been misinformed," interposed Smith.
“Mr. Wild is incapable of such business.”
“ Bah!” returned the woollen-draper. “I see you
don't know him as well as you pretend. Jonathan is
capable of anything. He has hanged twelve of his
associates already. The moment they cease to be
serviceable, or become dangerous, he lodges an infor-
mation, and the matter's settled. He has always plenty
of evidence in reserve. Blueskin is booked.
as you're sitting there, Mr. Smith, he'll swing after
next Old Bailey Sessions. I wouldn't be in his skin
for a trifle !"
As súre


JACK SHEPPARD
119
“But he may peach,” said Smith, casting an oblique
glance at Jackson
“It would avail him little if he did," replied
Kneebone ; "Jonathan does what he pleases in the
courts
Very true,” chuckled Jackson ; “very true.”
“Blueskin's only chance would be to carry his threat
into effect," pursued the woollen draper.
“Aba!” exclaimed Jackson. “ He threatens, does
he?”
“More than that," replied Kneebone ; "I under-
stand he drew a knife upon Jonathan, in a quarrel
between them lately. And, since then, he has openly
avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat
on the slightest inkling of treachery. But perhaps
Mr. Smith will tell you I'm misinformed, also, on that
point."
"On the contrary,” rejoined Smith, looking askance
at his companion, “I happen to know you're in the
right.”
"Well, sir, I'm obliged to you,” said Jackson ; "I
shall take care to put Mr. Wild on his guard against
an assassin."
“And I shall put Blueskin on the alert against the
designs of a traitor,” rejoined Smith, in a tone that
sounded like a menace.
“In my opinion,” remarked Kneebone, “it doesn't
matter how soon society is rid of two such scoundrels ;
and if Blueskin dies by the rope, and Jonathan by the
hands of violence, they'll meet the fate they merit.
Wild was formerly an agent to the Jacobite party; but,
on the offer of a bribe from the opposite faction, he
unhesitatingly deserted and betrayed his old employers.
Of late he has become the instrument of Walpole, and
does all the dirty work for the Secret Committee.
Several arrests of importance have been entrusted to
him; but forewarned, forearmed, we have constantly
07


I 20
JACK SHEPPARD
baffled his schemes-ha! ha! Jonathan's a devilish
clever fellow. But he can't have his eyes always about
him, or he'd have been with us this morning at the
Mint-eh, Mr. Jackson ?"
“So he would,” replied the latter ; "so he would.”
“With all his cunning, he may meet with his match,"
continued Kneebone, laughing. “I've set a trap for
him.”
“Take care you don't fall into it yourself,” returned
Jackson, with a slight sneer,
“ Were I in your place,” said Smith, "I should be
apprehensive of Wild, because he's a declared enemy."
"And were I in yours," rejoined the woollen-draper,
“I should be doubly apprehensive, because he's a
professed friend. But we're neglecting the punch all
this time. A bumper round, gentlemen. Success to
our enterprise.”
“Success to our enterprise ! " echoed the others
significantly
May I ask whether you made any further inquiries:
into the mysterious affair about which we were speaking
just now?” observed Jackson, turning to the carpenter.
"I can't say I did,” replied Wood, somewhat reluct-
antly ; "what with the confusion incident to the storm,
and the subsequent press of business, I put it off till it
was too late. I've often regretted that I didn't investi-
gate the matter. However, it doesn't much signify.
All concerned in the dark transaction have perished.”
"Are you sure of that?” inquired Jackson.
“ As sure as one reasonably can be. I saw their
boat swept away, and heard the roar of the fall beneatb
the bridge ; and no one who was present could doubt
the result. If the principal instigator of the crime-
whom I afterwards encountered on the platform, and
who was dashed into the raging flood by the shower
of bricks—escaped, his preservation must have been
indeed miraculous."


JACK SHEPPARD
I 21
"Your own was equally so," said Jackson ironically
“What if he did escape ?"
My utmost efforts should be used to bring him to
justice.
“ Hum'
"Have
you any reason to suppose he survived the
accident ?" inquired Thames eagerly,
Jackson smiled, and put on the air of a man who
knows more than he cares to tell.
"I merely asked the question," he said, after he
had enjoyed the boy's suspense for a moment.
The hope that had been suddenly kindled in the
youth's bosom was as suddenly extinguished.
“If I thought he lived—” observed Wood.
"If;” interrupted Jackson, changing his tone; "he
doe's live. And it has been well for you that he
imagines the child was drowned.”
“Who is he?" asked Thames impatiently.
“You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jack-
son coldly. “When you're older, you'll know that
secrets of importance are not disclosed gratuitously.
Your adoptive father understands mankind better."
“I'd give half I'm worth to hang the villain, and
restore this boy to his rights,” said Mr. Wood.
“How do you know he has any rights to be restored
to?" returned Jackson, with a grin. "Judging from
what you tell me, I've no doubt he's the illegitimate
offspring of some handsome but low-born profligate;
in which case he'll neither have name nor wealth for
his inheritance. The assassination, as you call it, was
obviously the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured
lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her
seducer. The less said, therefore, on this point the
better; because, as nothing is to be gained by it, it
would only be trouble thrown away. But, if you
have
any particular fancy for hanging the gentleman who
chose to take the law into his own hands and I think


1 22
JACK SHEPPARD
your motive extremely disinterested and praiseworthy
why, it's just possible, if you make it worth my
while, that your desires may be gratified."
“I don't see how this is to be effected, unless you
yourself were present at the time," said Wood, glancing
suspiciously at the speaker.
"I had no hand in the affair," replied Jackson
bluntly; " but I know those who had, and could bring
forward evidence if you require it."
"The best evidence would be afforded by an accom-
plice of the assassin," rejoined Thames, wbo was greatly
offended by the insinuation as to his parentage.
Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr.
Jackson ?" said Wood significantly
“I could,” replied Thames.
" Then you need no further information from me,”
rejoined Jackson sternly.
Stay!” cried Wood; “this is a most perplexing
business—if you really are privy to the affair
“We'll talk of it to-morrow, sir,” returned Jackson,
cutting him short. “In the meantime, with your
permission, I'll just make a few minutes of our con-
versation."
"As many as you please," replied Wood, walking
towards the chimney - piece, and taking down a
constable's staff which hung upon a nail.
Jackson, meantime, produced a pocket-book; and,
after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil,
began to write on a blank leaf. While he was thus
occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable
feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the
other had just used, and examined the haft. What
he there noticed occasioned a marked change in his
demeanour. He laid down the knife, and fixed a
searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who
continued his task, unconscious of anything having
happened.


JACK SHEPPARD
123
"
“There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising,
" that’u do. To-morrow, at twelve, I'll be with you,
Mr. Wood. Make up your mind as to the terms, and
I'll engage to find the man.
“Hold !” exclaimed the carpenter, in an authorita-
tive voice;
we can't part thus. Thames, lock the
door.” (An order which was promptly obeyed.) “Now,
sir, I must insist upon a full explanation of your
mysterious hints, or, as I am headborough of the
district, I shall at once take you into custody."
Jackson treated this menace with a loud laugh of
derision.
“What ho!” he cried, slapping Smith, who had
fallen asleep with the brandy-bottle in his grasp, upon
the shoulder. “It is time !"
For what?" grumbled the latter, rubbing his eyes.
“For the caption !" replied Jackson, coolly drawing
a brace of pistols from his pockets.
"Ready!” answered Smith, shaking himself, and
producing a similar pair of weapons.
“ In heaven's name! what's all this?” cried Wood.
“Be still, and you'll receive no injury,” returned
Jackson. "We're merely about to discharge our duty
by apprehending a rebel. Captain Kneebone ! we
must trouble you to accompany us."
“I've no intention of stirring,” replied the woollen-
draper, who was thus unceremoniously disturbed, "and
I beg you'll sit down, Mr. Jackson.”
“Come, sir !" thundered the latter; "no trifling!
Perhaps," he added, opening a warrant, "you'll obey
this mandate ?"
“A warrant!" ejaculated Kneebone, starting to his
feet,
"Ay, sir, from the Secretary of State, for your
arrest! You're charged with high treason."
“By those who've conspired with me?”
"No! by those who've entrapped you! You've


124
JACK SHEPPARD
long eluded our vigilance; but we've caught you at
last!”
“Damnation !” exclaimed the woollen-draper; "that
I should be the dupe of such a miserable artifice !"
“It's no use lamenting now, captain! You ought
rather to be obliged to us for allowing you to pay
this visit. We could have secured you when you
left the Mint. But we wished to ascertain whether
Mrs. Wood's charms equalled your description."
“Wretches !” screamed the lady; " don't dare to
breathe your vile insinuations against me! Oh! Mr.
Kneebone, are these your French noblemen ?"
“Don't upbraid me !" rejoined the woollen-draper.
“Bring him along, Joe!" said Jackson, in a whisper
to his comrade.
Smith obeyed. But he had scarcely advanced a
step when he was felled to the ground by a blow
from the powerful arm of Kneebone, who, instantly
possessing himself of a pistol, levelled it at Jackson's
head.
“Begone! or I fire!” he cried.
"Mr. Wood," returned Jackson, with the utmost
composure, "you're a headborough, and a loyal subject
of King George. I call upon you to assist me in the
apprebension of this person. You'll be answerable
for bis escape.”
." Mr. Wood, I command you not to stir,” vociferated
the carpenter's better balf; “recollect you'll be answer-
able to me.”
“1 declare I don't know what to do,” said Wood,
torn by conflicting emotions. “Mr. Kneebone ! you
would greatly oblige me by surrendering yourself."
“Never !” replied the woollen-draper; "and if that
treacherous rascal by your side doesn't make himself
scarce quickly, I'll send a bullet through his brain.”
“My death will lie at your door,” remarked Jackson
to the carpenter.


JACK SHEPPARD
125
“Show me your warrant !” said Wood, almost driven
to his wit's-end ; "perhaps it isn't regular."
“Ask him who he is,” suggested Thames.
“A good idea !” exclaimed the carpenter. “May
I beg to know whom I've the pleasure of addressing?
Jackson, I conclude, is merely an assumed name.”
“What does it signify?” returned the latter angrily.
"A great deal," replied Thames. “If you won't
disclose your name, I will for you! You are Jonathan
Wild !”
“Further concealment is needless," answered the
other, pulling off his wig and black patch, and
resuming his natural tone of voice; “I am Jonathan
Wild !”
Say you so?" rejoined Kneebone; "then be this
your passport to eternity."
Upon which he drew the trigger of the pistol, which,
luckily for the individual against whom it was aimed,
flashed in the pan.
“I might now send you on a similar journey!”
replied Jonathan with a bitter smile, and preserving
the unmoved demeanour he had maintained through-
out; “but I prefer conveying you, in the first instance,
to Newgate. The Jacobite daws want a scarecrow.”
So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of
a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper.
And so sudden and well-directed was the assault, that
he completely overthrew his gigantic antagonist.
“Lend a hand with the ruffles, Blueskin!” he
shouted, as that personage, who had just recovered
from the stunning effects of the blow, contrived to
pick himself up. “Look quick, d-n you, or we
shall never master him."
“Murder !” shrieked Mrs. Wood, at the top of her
voice.
“Here's a pistol !” cried Thames, darting towards
the undischarged weapon dropped by Blueskin in the


126
JACK SHEPPARD
66
scuffle, and pointing it at Jonathan. 6. Shall I shoot
him ?”
“Yes! yes ! put it to his ear,” cried Mrs. Wood ;
" that's the surest way.”
“No! no! give it me!" vociferated Wood, snatch-
ing the pistol, and rushing to the door, against which
he placed his back. “I'll soon settle this business.
Jonathan Wild !” he added, in a loud voice, “I com-
mand you to release your prisoner ! ”
"So I will," replied Jonathan, who, with Blueskin's
aid, had succeeded in slipping a pair of handcuffs over
the woollen-draper's wrists, "when I've Mr. Walpole's
order to that effect-but not before."
“You'll take the consequences, then ?"
Willingly."
“In that case I arrest you, and your confederate,
Joseph Blake, alias Blueskin, on a charge of felony,"
rejoined Wood, brandishing his staff; “resist my
authority, if you dare !"
“A clever device," replied Jonathan; “but it won't
serve your turn. Let us pass, sir. Strike the gag,
Blueskin.”
"You shall not stir a footstep. Open the window,
Thames, and call for assistance.'
“Stop!” cried Jonathan, who did not care to push
matters too far; “let me have a word with you,
Mr. Wood."
"I'll have no explanations whatever,” replied the
carpenter disdainfully, "except before a magistrate.”
* At least state your charge. Is it a serious
accusation ?"
“ It is," answered Wood. “Do you recollect this
key? Do you recollect to whom you gave it, and for
what purpose ? or shall I refresh your memory?”
Wild appeared confounded.
"Release your prisoner," continued Wood, “or the
window is opened."


JACK SHEPPARD
127
"Mr. Wood,” said Jonathan, advancing towards
him, and speaking in a low tone, “the secret of your
adopted son's birth is known to me. The name of his
father's murderer is also known to me. I can help
you to both—nay, I will help you to both, if you do
not interfere with my plans. The arrest of this person
is of consequence to me. Do not oppose it, and I will
serve you.
Thwart me, and I become your mortal
enemy. I have but to give a hint of that boy's exist-
ence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be
worth a day's purchase.”
" Don't listen to him, father,” cried Thames, un-
conscious of what was passing ; " there are plenty of
people outside."
"Make your choice," said Jonathan.
“If you don't decide quickly, I'll scream,” cried
Mrs. Wood, popping her head through the window.
"Set your prisoner free!” returned Wood.
“ Take off the ruffles, Blueskin," rejoined Wild.
“You know my fixed determination,” he added in a
low tone, as he passed the carpenter.
“ Before to-
morrow night that boy shall join his father."
So saying, he unlocked the door, and strode out of
the room.
“Here are some letters, which will let you see what
a snake you've cherished in your bosom, you uxorious
old dotard," said Blueskin, tossing a packet of papers
to Wood, as he followed his leader.
“Odd's - my-life! what's this ?” exclaimed the
carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them.
“Why, this is your writing, Dolly, and addressed to
Mr. Kneebone."
“My writing ! no such thing !" ejaculated the lady,
casting a look of alarm at the woollen-draper.
“Confusion ! the rascal must have picked my pocket
of your letters,” whispered Kneebone, o What's to be
done ?"


128
JACK SHEPPARD
“What's to be done? Why, I'm undone! How
imprudent in you not to burn them.
But men are
so careless, there's no trusting anything to them !
However, I must try to brazen it out. Give me the
letters, my love,” she added aloud, and in her most
winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries."
“Excuse me, madam,” replied the carpenter, turning
his back upon her and sinking into a chair. Thames,
my love, bring me my spectacles. My heart misgives
Fool that I was to marry for beauty! I ought
to have remembered that a fair woman and a slashed
gown always find some nail in the way.”
me.
VI
The first step towards the ladder.
If there is one thing on earth more lovely than another
it is a fair girl of the tender age of Winifred Wood !
Her beauty awakens no feeling beyond that of adinira-
tion. The charm of innocence breathes around her,
as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her
lightest thoughts and action, and shielding her, like a
spell, from the approach of evil. Beautiful is the girl
of twelve-who is neither child nor woman, but some-
thing between both; something more exquisite than
either.
Such was the fairy creature presented to Thames
Darrell under the following circumstances.
Glad to escape from the scene of recrimination that
ensued between his adopted parents, Thames seized
the earliest opportunity of retiring, and took his way
to a small chamber in the upper part of the house,
where he and Jack were accustomed to spend most of
their leisure in the amusements or pursuits proper to


JACK SHEPPARD
129
their years.
He found the door ajar, and, to his
surprise, perceived little Winifred seated at a table,
busily engaged in tracing some design upon a sheet of
paper. She did not hear his approach, but continued
her occupation without raising her head.
It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her
tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the
posture she adopted was not the most favourable that
might have been chosen for the display of her sylph-like
figure, there was something in her attitude, and the
glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow
radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through
the panes of the little dormer window, that seemed to
the youth inexpressibly beautiful. Winifred's features
would have been pretty, for they were regular and
delicately formed, if they had not been slightly marked
by the small-pox--a disorder that sometimes spares
more than it destroys, and imparts an expression to be
sought for in vain in the smoothest complexion. We
have seen pitted cheeks which we would not exchange
for dimples and a satin skin. Winifred's face had a
thoroughly amiable look. Her mouth was worthy of
her face ; with small pearly white teeth ; lips glossy,
rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable
playing constantly about them. Her eyes were soft
and blue, arched over with dark brows, and fringed by
long silken lashes. Her hair was of the darkest brown,
and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to
her heels. She was dressed in a little white frock, with
a very long body and very short sleeves, which looked
(from a certain fulness about the hips) as if it were
intended to be worn with a hoop. Her slender throat
was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket
attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a
diminutive lace cap.
The room in which she sat was a portion of the
garret assigned, as we have just stated, by Mr. Wood


130
JACK SHEPPARD
as a playroom to the two boys; and, like most boys'
playrooms, it exhibited a total absence of order or neat-
ness. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken
up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose ; while the
broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the the marks
of many a conflict.
The characters of the youthful
occupants of the room might be detected in every
article it contained. Darrell's peculiar bent of mind
was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's
cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt, and
cartouch-box, with other matters, evincing a decided
military taste. Among his books, Plutarch's Lives,
and the Histories of Great Commanders, appear to
have been frequently consulted; but the dust had
gathered thickly upon the Carpenter's Manual, and a
Treatise on Trigonometry and Geometry. Beneath
the shelf containing these books hung the fine old
ballad of " Saint George for England," and a loyal
ditty, then much in vogue, called “True Protestant
Gratitude ; or, Britain's Thanksgiving for the First of
August, Being the Day of His Majesty's Happy Accession
to the Throne.” Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a
few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from
the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by
those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime-the Ordi-
naries of Newgate. His vocal collection comprised a
couple of flash songs pasted against the wall, entitled
“The Thief Catcher's Prophecy," and the “ Life and
Death of the Darkman's Budge;" while his extraordinary
mechanical skill was displayed in what he termed (Jack
had a supreme contempt for orthography) a " Moddle of
his Ma'. Jale off Newgate ;” another, a model of the
pillory at Fieet Bridge; and a third, of the permanent
gibbet at Tyburn. The latter specimen of his work-
manship was adorned with a little scarecrow figure,
intended to represent a housebreaking chimney-sweeper
of the time, described, in Sheppard's own handwriting,


JACK SHEPPARD
131
as " Jack Hall a hanging.” We must not omit to
mention that family group, from the pencil of little
Winifred, representing Mr. and Mrs. Wood in very
characteristic attitudes, occupied a prominent place
on the walls.
For a few moments Thames regarded the little girl
through the half-open door in silence. On a sudden,
a change came over her countenance, which up to this
moment had worn a smiling and satisfied expression.
Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of
india-rubber, and exclaiming, “It isn't at all like him !
it isn't half handsome enough !” was about to efface
the sketch, when Thames darted into the room.
“Who isn't it like?” he asked, endeavouring to gain
possession of the drawing, which, at the sound of his
footstep, she crushed between her fingers.
“I can't tell you !” she replied, blushing deeply,
and clenching her little hand as tightly as possible;
"it's a secret!”
"I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully
forcing the paper from her grasp.
“Don't look at it, I entreat,” she cried.
But her request was unheeded. Thames unfolded
the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a
portrait of himself.
“I've a good mind not to speak to you again, sir !"
cried Winifred, with difficulty repressing a tear of
vexation; "you've acted unfairly.'
"I feel I have, dear Winny,” replied Thames, abashed
at his own rudeness ; "my conduct is inexcusable.”
"I'll excuse it, nevertheless," returned the little
damsel, affectionately extending her hand to him.
"Why were you afraid to show me this picture,
Winny ?" asked the youth.
“ Because it's not like you,” was her answer.
•Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and
must beg it from you as a memorial-


132
JACK SHEPPARD
“Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change
of manner.
“Of yourself,” he replied in a mournful tone. “I
shall value it highly, and will promise never to part
with it. Winny, this is the last night I shall pass
beneath your father's roof."
“ Have you told him so?” she inquired reproachfully.
'No; but I shall before he retires to rest."
“Then you will stay!” she cried, clapping her hands
joyfully, " for I'm sure he won't part with you.
Oh!
thank you—thank you! I'm so happy!”
“Stop, Winny !” he answered gravely; “I haven't
promised yet."
“But you will-won't you?" she rejoined, looking
him coaxingly in the face. Unable to withstand this
appeal, Thames gave the required promise; adding,
“O Winny! I wish Mr. Wood had been my father as
well as yours.”
“So do I!” she cried; “for then you would have
been really my brother. No, I don't, either; be-
"
ause
“Well, Winny?"
“I don't know what I was going to say,” she added
in some confusion ; “only I'm sorry you were born a
gentleman.
“Perhaps I wasn't,” returned Thames gloomily, as
the remembrance of Jonathan Wild's foul insinuation
crossed him. “But never mind who or what I am.
Give me this picture. I'll keep it for your sake.”
“I'll give you something better worth keeping," she
answered, detaching the ornament from her neck, and
presenting it to him ; " this contains a lock of my
hair, and may remind you sometimes of your little
sister. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself; though,
if
you go,
I shall need no memorial of you. I'd a
good many things to say to you besides, but you've
put them all out of my head.”
do


JACK SHEPPARD
133
With this she burst into tears, and sank with her
face upon his shoulder. Thames did not try to cheer
her. His own heart was too full of melancholy fore-
bodings. He felt that he might soon be separated-
perhaps for ever—from the fond little creature he held
in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the
warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how
much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly
affected him that he could not help joining in her
grief From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a
loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh;
and looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance
of Jack Sheppard immediately before him.
“Aha!” exclaimed Jack, with a roguish wink, "I've
caught you-have I?
The carpenter's daughter was fair and free-
Fair and fickle, and false was she!
She slighted the journeyman (meaning me!),
And smiled on a gallant of high degree.
Degree l degree !
She smiled on a gallant of high degree.
Ha! ha! ha!”
Jack !” exclaimed Thames angrily.
But Sheppard was not to be silenced. He went on
with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous
grimaces -
“When years were gone by she began to rue
Her love for the gentleman (meaning you !),
'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she,
* But where is my gallant of high degree?
Where! where!
Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?'
Ho! ho! ho!”
“What are you doing here?” demanded Thames.
“Oh! nothing at all," answered Jack sneeringly,
though this room's as much mine as yours, for that
matter. But I don't desire to spoil sport-not I
E.


134
JACK SHEPPARD
a
And if you'll give me such a smack of your sweet lips,
miss, as you've just given Thames, I'll take myself off
in less than no time." The answer to this request was
“smack” of a very different description, bestowed
upon Sheppard's outstretched face by the little damsel,
as she ran out of the room.
“Odd's bodikins !” cried Jack, rubbing his cheek,
“I'm in luck to-day. However, I'd rather have 3
blow from the daughter than the mother. I know who
hits the hardest. I tell you what, Thames,” he added,
Ainging himself carelessly into a chair, “I'd give my
right hand—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's
'prentice—if that little mins were half as fond of me
as she is of you.”
- That's not likely to be the case, if you go on in
this way," replicd Thames sharply.
Why, what the devil would you hive had me to
do !--make myself scarce, eh? You should have tipped
me the wink.
"No more of this," rejoined Thames, “or we shall
quarrel."
“Who cares if we do?" retorted Sheppard, with a
look of defiance.
“ Jack," said the other sternly, “don't provoke me
further, or I'll give you a thrashing."
“Two can play at that game, my blood,” replied
Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture
of defence.
“Take care of yourself, then," rejoined Thames,
doubling his fists, and advancing towards him; “though
my right arm's stiff, I can use it, as you'll find.”
Sheppard was no match for his opponent, for, though
he possessed more science, was deficient in weight and
strength; and after a short round, in which he had
decidedly the worst of it, a well-directed hit on the nob
stretched him at full length on the floor.
“That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your


JACK SHEPPARD
135
“ How very
head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped
Jack to his feet.
"I didn't mean to give offence,” replied Sheppard
sulkily. “But let me tell you it's not a pleasant sight
to see the girl one likes in the arms of another."
“You want another drubbing, I perceive," said
Thames, frowning.
“No, I don't. Enough is as good as a feast of the
dainties you provide. I'll think no more about her.
Save us !” he cried, as his glance accidentally alighted
on the drawing, which Winifred had dropped in her
agitation. “Is this her work ?”
“It is,” answered Thames. “ Do you see any
likeness?”
“Don't I,” returned Jack bitterly. "Strange,” he
continued, as if talking to himself.
like
it is!”
“Not so strange, surely,” laughed Thames, “that
a picture should resemble the person for whom it's
intended."
“Ay, but it is strange how much it resembles some-
body for whom it's not intended. It's exactly like a
miniature I have in my pocket.
“ A miniature. Of whom?”
“That I can't say," replied Jack mysteriously.
* But, I half suspect, of your father.”
“My father!” exclaimed Thames, in the utmost
astonishment; “let me see it !”
“Here it is,” returned Jack, producing a small
picture in a case set with brilliants. Thames took
it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently
-judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud
and patrician features certainly presented a very strik-
ing resemblance to his own.
"You're right, Jack,” he said, after a pause, during
which he contemplated the picture with the most fixed
attention; "this must have been my father!


136
JACK SHEPPARD
>>
“No doubt of it?" answered Sheppard; “only com-
pare it with Winny's drawing, and you'll find they're
as like as two peas in a pod."
“Where did you get it?” inquired Thames.
“From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box.”
"Surely you haven't stolen it?”
“Stolen's an awkward word. But, as you perceive,
I brought it away with me.”
“It must be restored instantly, be the consequences
what they may.”
“You're not going to betray me!” cried Jack in
alarm.
“I am not,” replied Thames; "but I insist upon
your taking it back at once."
"Take it back yourself,” retorted Jack sullenly.
“I shall do no such thing."
“Very well,” replied Thames, about to depart.
“Stop!” exclaimed Jack, planting himself before
the door; “do you want to get me sent across the
water ?”
“I want to save you from disgrace and ruin,” re-
turned Thames.
“Bah!” cried Jack contemptuously; "nobody's
disgraced and ruined unless he's found out. I'm safe
enough if you hold your tongue. Give me that pic-
ture, or I'll make you !"
“Hear me," said Thames calmly; "you well know
you're no match for me.
“Not at fisticuffs, perhaps," interrupted Jack fiercely;
“but I've my knife.”
“ You daren't use it.”
* Try to leave the room, and see whether I daren't,”
returned Jack, opening the blade.
"I didn't expect this from you," rejoined Thames
resolutely “But your threats won't prevent my
leav-
ing the room when I please, and as I please. Now,
will you stand aside ?"


JACK SHEPPARD
137
“I won't,"answered Jack obstinately. Thames said
not another word, but marched boldly towards him,
and seized him by the collar.
“Leave go,” cried Jack, struggling violently, and
raising his hand, or I'll maul
you for life.”
But Thames was not to be deterred from his pur-
pose; and the strife might have terminated seriously
if a peacemaker had not appeared in the shape of
little Winifred, who, alarmed by the noise, rushed
suddenly into the room.
"Ah!” she screamed, seeing the uplifted weapon
in Sheppard's hand, “don't hurt Thames—don't, dear
Jack! If you want to kill somebody, kill me, not
him.” And she flung herself between them. Jack
dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside.
“What has caused this quarrel, Thames ?” asked
the little girl anxiously.
“You," answered Jack abruptly.
“No such thing,” rejoined 'Thames. “I'll tell you
all about it presently. But you must leave us now,
dear Winny; Jack and I have something to settle
between ourselves. Don't be afraid. Our quarrel's
quite over."
“Are you sure of that?” returned Winifred, look-
ing uneasily at Jack.
“Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard ; "he may do what he
pleases—hang me, if he thinks proper—if you wish it."
With this assurance, and at the reiterated request
of Thames, the little girl reluctantly withdrew.
“Come, come, Jack," said Thames, walking up to
Sheppard, and taking his hand, “have done with this.
I tell you once more, I'll say and do nothing to get
you into trouble. Rest assured of that. But I'm
resolved to see Lady Trafford. Perhaps she may tell
me whose picture this is."
“So she may,” returned Jack, brightening up; "it's
a good idea. I'll
go
with
you. But you must see her


138
JACK SHEPPARD
alone;
and that'll be no easy matter to manage, for
she's a great invalid, and has generally somebody with
her. Above all, beware of Sir Rowland Trenchard.
He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself. I
should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it
hadn't been for him. He was standing by, rating her
ladyship—who can scarcely stir from the sofa --while
I was packing up her jewels in the case, and I observed
that she tried to hide a small casket from him. His
back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this
casket into the box. The next minute I contrived,
without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into
my own pocket. I was sorry for what I did afterwards;
for, I don't know why, but, poor lady! with her pale
face and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother.”
“That alone ought to have prevented you from
acting as you did," returned Thames gravely.
“I should never have acted as I did,” rejoined
Sheppard bitterly, “if Mrs. Wood hadn't struck me.
That blow made me a thief. And, if ever I'm brought
to the gallows, I shall lay my death at her door."
Well, think no more about it," returned Thames.
" Do better in future.”
“I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack.
“But take my advice, and keep out of Sir Rowland's
way, or you'll get the poor lady into trouble as well
“Never fear,” replied Thames, taking up his hat.
“Come, let's be off.” The two boys then emerged
upon the landing, and were about to descend the stairs,
when the voices of Mr. and Mrs. Wood resounded from
below. The storm appeared to have blown over, for
they were conversing in a very amicable manner with
Mr. Kneebone, who was on the point of departing.
"Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have
been any misunderstanding between us,” observed the
woollen-draper.
as me.


JACK SHEPPARD
139
we
“Don't mention it," returned Wood, in the concilia-
tory tone of one who admits he has been in the wrong;
your explanation is perfectly satisfactory."
“We shall expect you to-morrow,” insinuated Mrs.
Wood; "and pray don't bring anybody with you-
especially Jonathan Wild.”
“No fear of that,” laughed Kneebone. “ Oh! about
that boy, Thames Darrell. His safety must be looked
to. Jonathan's threats are not to be sneezed at. The
rascal will be at work before the morning. Keep your
eye upon the lad. And mind he doesn't stir out of
your sight, on any pretence whatever, till I call."
“You hear that," whispered Jack.
“I do," replied Thames, in the same tone;
haven't a moment to lose."
“Take care of yourself,” said Mr. Wood, “and I'll
take care of Thames. It's never a bad day that has a
good ending. Good night ! God bless you !” Upon
this there was a great shaking of hands, with renewed
apologies and protestations of friendship on both sides ;
after which Mr. Kneebone took his leave.
" And so you really suspected me?” murmured
Mrs. Wood reproachfully, as they returned to the
parlour. “Oh, you men! you men! Once get a thing
into your head, and nothing will beat it out.”
“Why, my love," rejoined her husband, “appear-
ances, you must allow, were a little against you. But,
since you assure me you didn't write the letters, and
Mr. Kneebone assures me he didn't receive them, I
can't do otherwise than believe you. And I've made
up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half
that he hears, and nothing that he sees.”
"An excellent maxim," replied his wife approvingly;
“the best I ever heard you utter."
“I must now go and look after Thames,” observed
the carpenter.
Oh! never mind him : he'll take no harm. Come


140
JACK SHEPPARD
with me into the parlour. I can't spare you at present.
Heigho!”
“Now for it,” cried Jack, as the couple entered the
room : “the coast's clear."
Thames was about to follow, when he felt a gentle
grasp upon his arm. He turned, and beheld Winifred.
“Where are you going?" she asked.
"I shall be back presently,” replied Thames evasively.
“Don't go, I beg of you,” she implored ; "you're in
danger. I overheard what Mr. Kneebone said just
now.”
“Death and the devil! what a cursed interruption,”
cried Jack impatiently; "if you loiter in this way, old
Wood will catch us.”
"If you stir, I'll call him," rejoined Winifred : "it's
you, Jack, who are persuading my brother to do wrong.
Thames,” she urged, “the errand on which you're going
can't be for any good, or you wouldn't be afraid of
mentioning it to my father.”
“He's coming,” cried Jack, stamping his foot with
vexation; “another moment, and it'll be too late.”
“Winny, I must go," said Thames, breaking from her.
'Stay, dear Thames, stay,” cried the little girl.
“He hears me not; he's gone,” she added, as the door
was opened and shut with violence; “something tells
me I shall never see him again.” When her father, a
moment afterwards, issued from the parlour to ascer-
tain the cause of the noise, he found her seated on
the stairs, in an agony of grief.
“Where's Thames ?” he hastily inquired.
Winifred pointed to the door. She could not speak.
$And Jack ?”
“Gone too," sobbed his daughter.
Mr. Wood uttered something like an imprecation.
“God forgive me for using such a word,” he cried in
a troubled tone; “if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly
request, this wouldn't have happened."


JACK SHEPPARD
141
VII
Brother and sister.
On the same evening, in a stately chamber of a noble
old mansion of Elizabeth's time, situated in South-
ampton Fields, two persons were seated. One of these,
a lady, evidently a confirmed invalid, and attired in
deep mourning, reclined upon a sort of couch, or easy-
chair, set on wheels, with her head supported by
cushions, and her feet resting upon a velvet footstool.
A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side,
proving the state of extreme debility to which she
was reduced. It was no easy matter to determine her
agé, for though she still retained a certain youthful-
ness of appearance, she had many marks in her coun-
tenance usually indicating the decline of life, but which
in her case were, no doubt, the result of constant and
severe indisposition, Her complexion was wan and
faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic
flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her
eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless ;
her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark
hair thickly scattered with grey. When younger and
in better health, she must have been eminently lovely;
and there were still the remains of great beauty about
her. The expression, however, which would chiefly
have interested a beholder, was that of settled and
profound melancholy.
Her companion was a person of no inferior condi-
tion. Indeed, it was apparent, from the likeness
between them, that they were nearly related. He
had the same dark eyes, though lighted by a fierce
flame; the same sallow complexion; the same tall,
thin figure, and majestic demeanour; the same proud


142
JACK SHEPPARD
upon her.
cast of features. But here the resemblance stopped
The expression was wholly different. He looked melan.
choly enough, it is true. But his gloom appeared to
be occasioned by remorse rather than sorrow. No
sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a
monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. He seened
inexorable, and inscrutable as fate itself
"Well, Lady Trafford," he said, fixing a severe look
“You depart for Lancashire to-morrow.
Have I
your
final answer?”
“You have, Sir Rowland," she answered, in a feeble
tone, but firmly. “You shall have the sum you require,
but-
“But what, madam ?”
“Do not misunderstand me,” she proceeded. “I
give it to King James-not to you ; for the further-
ance of a great and holy cause, not for the prosecution
of wild and unprofitable schemes.” Sir Rowland bit
his lips to repress the answer that rose to them.
“And the will ?” he said, with forced calmness.
"Do you still refuse to make one?”
“I have made one,” replied Lady Trafford.
“How?” cried her brother, starting.
“Rowland," she rejoined, "you strive in vain to
terrify me into compliance with your wishes. Nothing
shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my
conscience. My will is executed and placed in safe
custody."
“In whose favour is it made ?” be inquired sternly.
“In favour of my son.”
"You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland moodily.
"I had one," answered bis sister in a mournful
voice; "and perhaps I have one still.”
“If I thought so-
_” cried the knight fiercely;
"but this is idle," he added, suddenly checking him.
self. “Aliva, your child perished with its father.”
“And by whom were they both destroyed ?" de-
27


JACK SHEPPARD
143
was
a
manded his sister, raising herself by a painful effort,
and regarding him with a searching glance.
"By the avenger of his family's dishonour-by your
brother," he replied coolly.
“Brother!” cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing
with unnatural light, and her cheek suffused with a
crimson stain : “Brother!" she cried, lifting her thin
fingers towards heaven, as God shall judge me, I
wedded to that murdered man!”
“A lie!” ejaculated Sir Rowland furiously;
black and damning lie!”
“It is the truth,” replied his sister, falling backwards
upon the couch.
“I will swear it upon the cross !”
“His name, then ?" demanded the knight. “Tell
me that, and I will believe you.”
" Not now
not now !” she returned, with a shudder.
“When I am dead you will learn it. Do not disquiet
yourself. You will not have to wait long for the
information. Rowland,” she added, in an altered tone,
“I am certain I shall not live many days. And, if
you treat me in this way, you will have my death to
answer for, as well as the deaths of my husband and
child. Let us part in peace. We shall take an eternal
farewell of each other."
“Be it so," rejoined Sir Rowland, with concentrated
fury;
“ but before we do part, I am resolved to know
the name of your pretended husband !”
“Torture shall not wrest it. from me," answered his
sister firmly.
“What motive have you for concealment?” he
demanded.
“A vow !” she answered "a vow to my dead
husband.”
Sir Rowland looked at her for a moment, as if he
meditated some terrible reply. He then arose, and,
taking a few turns in the chamber, stopped suddenly
before her.


144
JACK SHEPPARD
66
“What has put it into your head that your son yet
lives?” he asked.
“I have dreamed that I shall see him before I die,"
sbe rejoined.
“ Dreamed !” echoed the knight, with a ghastly
smile. “Is that all ? Then learn from me that your
hopes are visionary as their foundation. Unless he
can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he
and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never
behold him again in this world.”
“ Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland !"
murmured his sister, crossing her hands, and looking
upwards : "you have none on me.”
“I will have nope till I have forced the villain's
name from you!” he cried, stamping the floor with
rage.
· Rowland, your violence is killing me," she returned,
in a plaintive tone.
“His name, I say !_his name !" thundered the
knight. And he unsheathed his sword. Lady Trafford
uttered a prolonged scream, and fainted. When she
came to herself, she found that her brother had quitted
the room, leaving her to the care of a female attendant.
Her first orders were to summon the rest of her
servants to make immediate preparations for her de-
parture for Lancashire.
• To-night, your ladyship?” ventured an elderly
domestic.
"Instantly, Hobson," returned Lady Trafford; "as
soon as the carriage can be brought round.”
“It shall be at the door in ten minutes.
ladyship any further commands ?”
“None whatever. Yet stay! There is one thing
that I wish you to do. Take that box, and put it
into the carriage yourself. Where is Sir Rowland ?"
“In the library, your ladyship.
He has given
orders that no one is to disturb him. But there's a
Has your


JACK SHEPPARD
145
person in the hall—a very odd sort of man-waiting
to see him, who won't be sent away.”
"Very well. Lose not a moment, Hobson.”
The elderly domestic bowed, took up the case, and
retired.
“Your ladyship is far too unwell to travel,” re-
marked the female attendant, assisting her to rise ;
"you'll never be able to reach Manchester."
“It matters not, Norris,” replied Lady Trafford; "I
would rather die on the road than be exposed to
another such scene as I have just encountered.”
“Dear me!” sympathised Mrs. Norris. “I was afraid,
from the scream I heard, that something dreadful had
happened ; Sir Rowland has a terrible temper indeed -
a shocking temper! I declare he frightens me out of
my senses."
66 For
“Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford
coldly.
Well, that's no reason why he should treat your
ladyship so shamefully, I'm sure. Ah! how I wish
poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in
order.” Lady Trafford sighed deeply.
“Your ladyship has never been well since you
married Sir Cecil,” rejoined Mrs. Norris.
my part, I don't think you have quite got over the
accident you met with on the night of the Great
Storm."
“Norris !' gasped Lady Trafford, trembling vio-
lently.
Mercy on us ! what have I said ?” cried the
attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her
mistress ; “ do sit down, your ladyship, while I run
for the ratifia and rosa solis."
“It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering
herself by a powerful effort; “but never allude to
the circumstance again. Go and prepare for our
departure." In less time than Hobson had men-


146
JACK SHEPPARD
tioned, the carriage was
announced.
And Lady
Trafford having been carried downstairs, and placed
within it, the postboys drove off at a rapid pace
for Barnet.
VIII
Miching Mallecho.
SIR ROWLAND, meantime, paced his chamber with a
quick and agitated step. He was ill at ease, though
he would not have confessed his disquietude even to
himself. Not conceiving that his sister—feeble as she
was, and yielding as she had ever shown herself to his
wishes, whether expressed or implied-would depart
without consulting him, he was equally surprised and
enraged to hear the servants busied in transporting
her to the carriage. His pride, however, would not
suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much
less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he
had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to
remain, though he was well aware that her life might
be endangered if she travelled by night. But, when
the sound of the carriage wheels died away, and he
felt that she was actually gone, his resolution failed
him, and he rang the bell violently.
“My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant ap-
peared.
The man lingered. “ 'Sdeath! why am I
not obeyed ?” exclaimed the knight angrily. “I wish
to overtake Lady Trafford. Use despatch!”
“Her ladyship will not travel beyond Saint Albans
to-night, Sir Rowland, so Mrs. Norris informed me,"
returned Charcam respectfully; "and there's a per-
son without, anxious for an audience, whom, with
submission, I think your honour would desire to
see.”


JACK SHEPPARD
147
66
"Ah!” exclaimed Sir Rowland, glancing signifi-
cantly at Charcam, who was a confidant in his Jacobite
schemes; "is it the messenger from Orchard-Windham,
from Sir William?”
“No, Sir Rowland.”
“From Mr. Corbet Kynaston, then ? Sir John
Packington's courier was here yesterday."
No, Sir Rowland.”
"Perhaps he is from Lord Derwentwater, or Mr.
Forster ? News is expected from Northumberland.”
“I can't exactly say, Sir Rowland. The gentleman
didn't communicate his business to me. But I'm sure
it's important." Charcam said this, not because he
knew anything about the matter; but, having received
a couple of guineas to deliver the message, he naturally
enough estimated its importance by the amount of the
gratuity.
“Well, I will see him," replied the knight, after a
moment's pause ; "he may be from the Earl of Mar.
But let the horses be in readiness. I shall ride to
Saint Albans to-night."
So saying, he threw himself into a chair. And
Cbarcam, fearful of another change in his master's
present uncertain mood, disappeared. The person,
shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by
the imperfect light-for the evening was advancing:
and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery-to be a
middle-sized, middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appear:
ance, but with a very shrewd aspect. He was plainly
attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and
wore a hanger by his side.
“Your servant, Sir Rowland,” said the stranger,
ducking his head as he advanced.
“Your business, sir ? ” returned the other stifly.
The new-comer looked at Charcam. Sir Rowland
waved his hand, and the attendant withdrew.
" You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised


JACK SHEPPARD
149
With your
"To the proof,” interrupted the stranger calmly.
“You are the son of Sir Nontacute Trenchard, of
Ashton Hall, near Manchester. Sir Montacute had
three children-two daughters and yourself. The
eldest, Constance, was lost, by the carelessness of a
servant, during her infancy, and has never since been
heard of; the youngest, Aliva, is the present Lady
Trafford. I merely mention these circumstances to
show the accuracy
of
my
information."
“If this is the extent of it, sir," returned the knight
ironically, “you may spare yourself further trouble.
These particulars are familiar to all who have any
title
to the knowledge.
Perhaps so, rejoined the stranger; “but I have
others in reserve not so generally known.
permission, I will go on in my own way. Where I
am in error, you can set me right. Your father, Sir
Montacute Trenchard, who had been a loyal subject
of King James the Second, and borne arms in his
service, on the abdication of that monarch turned his
back upon the Stuarts, and would never afterwards
recognise their claims to the crown. It was said that
he received an affront from James, in the shape of a
public reprimand, which his pride could not forgive.
Be this as it may, though a Catholic, he died a friend
to the Protestant succession.”
“So far you are correct," observed Trenchard ;
“ still this is no secret.
"Suffer me to proceed,” replied the stranger. “The
opinions entertained by the old knight naturally induced
him to view with displeasure the conduct of his son,
who warmly espoused the cause he had deserted.
Finding remonstrances of no avail, he had recourse to
threats; and when threats failed, he adopted more
decided measures.
“Ha!” ejaculated Trenchard.
As yet,"
," pursued the stranger, “Sir Montacute had


150
JACK SHEPPARD
placed no limit to his son's expenditure. He did not
quarrel with Rowland's profusion, for his own revenues
were ample; but he did object to the large sums lavished
by him in the service of a faction he was resolved not
to support. Accordingly, the old knight reduced his
son's allowance to a third of its previous amount; and,
upon further provocation, he even went so far as to
alter his will in favour of his daughter, Aliva, who was
then betrothed to her cousin, Sir Cecil Trafford.”
“Proceed, sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard.
“Under these circumstances, Rowland did what any
other sensible person would do. Aware of his father's
inflexibility of purpose, he set his wits to work to defeat
the design. He contrived to break off his sister's match;
and this he accomplished so cleverly that he maintained
the strictest friendship with Sir Cecil. For two years
he thought himself secure; and, secretly engaged in the
Jacobite schemes of the time, in which, also, Sir Cecil
was deeply involved, he began to relax in his watch-
fulness over Aliva. About this time-namely, in
November 1703—while young Trenchard was in
Lancashire, and his sister in London on a visit, he
received a certain communication from his confidential
servant, Davies, which at once destroyed his hopes.
He learnt that his sister was privately married—the
name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained
and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in
the Borough, where she had given birth to a son.
Rowland's plans were quickly formed, and as quickly
executed. Accompanied by Sir Cecil, who still con-
tinued passionately enamoured of his sister, and to
whom he represented that she had fallen a victim to
the arts of a saducer, he set off at fiery speed, for the
metropolis. Arrived there, their first object was to
seek out Davies, by whom they were conducted to the
lady's retreat-à lone habitation, situated on the out-
skirts of Saint George's Fields, in Southwark. Refused


JACK SHEPPARD
151
admittance, they broke open the door. Aliva's husband,
who passed by the name of Darrell, confronted them
sword in hand. For a few minutes he kept them at
bay. But urged by his wife's cries, who was more
anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her
own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape
from the back of the premises. Rowland and his
companions instantly started in pursuit, leaving the
lady to recover as she might. They tracked the fugitive
to the Mint, but, like hounds at fault, they here lost
all scent of their
prey.
Meantime, the lady had overtaken them; but
terrified by the menaces of her vindictive kinsmen,
she did not dare to reveal herself to her husband, of
whose concealment on the roof of the very house the
party were searching she was aware. Aided by an
individual, who was acquainted with a secret outlet
from the tenement, Darrell escaped. Before his de-
parture he gave his assistant a glove. That glove is
still preserved. In her endeavour to follow him,
Aliva met with a severe fall, and was conveyed away,
in a state of insensibility, by Sir Cecil.
supposed to be lifeless; but she survived the accident,
though she never regained her strength. Directed by
the same individual, who had helped Darrell to steal a
march upon him, Rowland, with Davies and another
attendant, continued the pursuit. Both the fugitive
and his chasers embarked on the Thames. The elements
were wrathful as their passions. The storm burst upon
them in its fury. Unmindful of the terrors of the
night, unscared by the danger that threatened him,
Rowland consigned his sister's husband and his sister's
child to the waves."
“Bring your story to an end, sir," said Trenchard,
who had listened to the recital with mingled emotiuns
of
rage
and fear,
“I have nearly done,” replied the stranger. “As
She was
27


152
JACK SHEPPARD
Rowland's whole crew perished in the tempest, and he
only escaped by miracle, he fancied himself free from
detection. And for twelve years he has been so, until
his long security, well-nigh obliterating remembrance
of the deed, has bred almost a sense of innocence
within his breast. During this period Sir Montacute
has been gathered to his fathers. His title has de-
scended to Rowland, his estate to Aliva. The latter has
since been induced to unite herself to Sir Cecil, on terms
originating with her brother, and which, however strange
and unprecedented, were acquiesced in by the suitor."
Sir Rowland looked bewildered with surprise.
“The marriage was never consummated,” continued
the imperturbable stranger.
“Sir Cecil is no more.
Lady Trafford, supposed to be childless, broken in
health and spirits, frail both in mind and body, is not
likely to make another marriage. The estates must,
ere long, revert to Sir Rowland.”
“Are you man or fiend ?” exclaimed Trenchard,
staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration.
"You are complimentary, Sir Rowland," returned
the other, with a grim sinile.
“If you are human,” rejoined Trenchard, with stern
emphasis, “I insist upon knowing whence you derived
your information ?"
“I might refuse to answer the question, Sir Rowland.
But I am not indisposed to gratify you. Partly from
your confessor, partly from other sources.”
“My confessor!” ejaculated the knight, in the ex-
tremity of surprise ; " has he betrayed his sacred trust ?”
“He has," replied the other, grinning; "and this
will be a caution to you in future how you confide a
secret of consequence to a priest. I should as soon
think of trusting a woman. Tickle the ears of their rever.
ences with any idle nonsense you please, but tell them
nothing you care to have repeated. I was once a disciple
of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience."


JACK SHEPPARD
153
“Who are you?" ejaculated Trenchard, scarcely able
to credit his senses.
“I'm surprised you've not asked that question
before, Sir Rowland. It would have saved me much
circumlocution, and you some suspense. My name is
Wild-Jonathan Wild.” And the great thief-taker
indulged himself in a chuckle at the effect produced
by this announcement. He was accustomed to such
surprises, and enjoyed them. Sir Rowland laid his
hand
upon
his sword.
“Mr. Wild,” he said, in a sarcastic tone, but with
great firmness, “a person of your well-known sagacity
must be aware that some secrets are dangerous to the
possessor."
“I am fully aware of it, Sir Rowland,” replied
Jonathan coolly; "but I have nothing to fear; because,
in the first place, it will be to your advantage not to
molest me ; and, in the second, I am provided against
all contingencies. I never hunt the human tiger with-
out being armed. My janizaries are without. One of
them is furnished with a packet containing the heads of
the statement I have just related, which, if I don't return
at a certain time, will be laid before the proper autho-
rities. I have calculated my chances, you perceive.”
“You have forgotten that you are in my power,"
returned the knight sternly, "and that all your allies
cannot save you from my resentment.
“I can at least protect myself,” replied Wild, with
provoking calmness. “I am accounted a fair shot, as
well as a tolerable swordsman, and I will give proof of
my skill in both lines, should occasion reqaire it. I
have had a good many desperate engagements in my
time, and havə generally come off victorious. I bear
the marks of some of them about me still,” he con-
tinued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald
skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver.
“This gash,” he added, pointing to one of the larger


154
JACK SHEPPARD
5
scars, was a wipe from the hanger of Tom Thurland,
whom I apprehended for the murder of Mrs. Knap.
This wedge of silver," pointing to another, "which
would mend a coffee-pot, serves to stop up a breach
made by Will Colthurst, who robbed Mr. Hearl on
Hounslow Heath. I secured the dog after he had
wounded me. This fracture was the handiwork of
Jack Parrot (otherwise called Jack the Grinder), who
broke into the palace of the Bishop of Norwich. Jack
was a comical scoundrel, and made a little too free
with his grace's best Burgundy, as well as his grace's
favourite housekeeper. The bishop, however, to show
him the danger of meddling with the Church, gave
him a dance at Tyburn for his pains. Not a scar but
has its history. The only inconvenience I feel from
my shattered noddle is an incapacity to drink. But
that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder
heads than mine. The hardest bout I ever had was
with a woman--Sally Wells, who was afterwards
lagged for shop-lifting. She attacked me with a
carving-knife, and, when I had disarmed her, the jade
bit off a couple of fingers from my left hand. Thus,
you see, I've never hesitated, and never shall hesitate,
to expose my life where anything is to be gained. My
profession has hardened me."
And, with this, he coolly readjusted his peruke.
“What do you expect to gain from this interview,
Mr. Wild ?” demanded Trenchard, as if he had forined
a sudden resolution.
“Ah! now we come to business," returned Jonathan,
rubbing his hands gleefully. “ These are my terms,
Sir Rowland," he added, taking a sheet of paper from
his pocket, and pushing it towards the knight. Tren-
chard glanced at the document.
“A thousand pounds,” he observed gloomily, "is a
heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain
silence might be so cheaply procured."


JACK SHEPPARD
155
6
“You would purchase it at the price of your head,"
replied Jonathan, knitting his brows. “Sir Rowland,"
he added savagely, and with somewhat of the look of
a bulldog before he flies at his foe, “if it were my
pleasure to do so, I could crush you with a breath.
You are wholly in my power. Your name, with the
fatal epithet of dangerous' attached to it, stands
foremost on the list of disaffected now before the
Secret Committee. I hold a warrant from Mr. Walpole
for your apprehension.”
“Arrested !” exclaimed Trenchard, drawing his
sword.
“Put up your blade, Sir Rowland,” rejoined Jona-
than, resuming his former calm demeanour; “ King
James the Third will need it. I have no intention of
arresting you. I have a different game to play; and
it'll be your own fault if you don't come off the winner.
I offer you my assistance on certain terms. The
proposal is so far from being exorbitant, that it should
be trebled if I had not a fellow-feeling in the cause.
To be frank with you, I have an affront to requite,
which can be settled at the same time, and in the same
way with your affair.
That's worth something to me;
for I don't mind paying for revenge. After all, a thou-
sand pounds is a trifle to rid you of an upstart who
may chance to deprive you of tens of thousands.'
“ Did I hear you aright?" asked Trenchard, with
startling eagerness.
“Certainly," replied Jonathan, with the most perfect
sang froid ; " I'll undertake to free you from the boy
That's part of the bargain.'
“ Is he alive?” vociferated Trenchard.
“To be sure," returned Wild ; "he's not only 'stire,
but likely for life, if we don't clip the thread.” Sir
Rowland caught at a chair for support, and passed his
hand across his brow, on which the damp had gathered
thickly.


156
JACK SHEPPARD
“ The intelligence seems new to you. I thought I'd
been sufficiently explicit,"continued Jonathan. "Most
persons would have guessed my meaning.”
“Then it was not a dream !” ejaculated Sir Rowland,
in a hollow voice, and as if speaking to himself. “I did
see them on the platform of the bridge—the child and
his preserver. They were not struck by the fallen ruin,
nor whelmed in the roaring flood-or, if they were, they
escaped as I escaped. God! I have cheated myselt
into a belief that the boy perished ! And now my
worst fears are realised-he lives ?”
“As yet," returned Jonathan, with fearful emphasis.
"I cannot—dare not injure him,” rejoined Trenchard,
with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into
a chair. Jonathan laughed scornfully.
Leave him to me," he said. “He shan't trouble
you further.”
“No," replied Sir Rowland, who appeared com-
pletely prostrated. "I will struggle no longer with
destiny. Too much blood has been shed already."
“This comes of fine feelings !” muttered Jonathan
contemptuously. “Give me your thorough-paced villain.
But I shan't let him off thus. I'll try a strong dose.
Am I to understand that you intend to plead guilty,
Sir Rowland ?” he added. “If so, I may as well
execute my warrant.”
“Stand off, sir !” exclaimed Trenchard, starting
suddenly backwards.
“I knew that would bring him to,” thought Wild.
“ Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland.
“At present under the care of his preserver-one
Owen Wood, a carpenter, by whom he was brought
ap."
>>
“Wood !” exclaimed Trenchard—“of Wych Street ?"
“The same.”
“A boy from his shop was here a short time ago.
Could it be him you mean?”


JACK SHEPPARD
157
Beg
“No. That boy was the carpenter's apprentice,
Jack Sheppard. I've just left your nephew."
At this moment Charcam entered the room.
pardon, Sir Rowland,” said the attendant, “but there's
à boy from Mr. Wood, with a message for Lady
Trafford.”
“From whom?” vociferated Trenchard.
“From Mr. Wood the carpenter."
“The same who was here just now?”
“No, Sir Rowland, a much finer boy."
" 'Tis he, by Heaven !” cried Jonathan; "this is
lucky. Sir Rowland,” he added in a deep whisper,
"do you agree to my terms ?”
“I do," answered Trenchard in the same tone.
Enough !” rejoined Wild; "he shall not return."
"Have you acquainted him with Lady Trafford's
departure ?” said the knight, addressing Charcam with
as much composure as he could assume.
"No, Sir Rowland," replied the attendant; "as you
proposed to ride to Saint Albans to-night, I thought you
might choose to see him yourself. Besides, there is
something odd about the boy; for, though I questioned
him pretty closely concerning his business, he declined
answering my questions, and said he could only deliver
his message to her ladyship. I thought it better not
to send him away till I'd mentioned the circumstance
to you."
“You did right,” returned Trenchard.
" Where is he?" asked Jonathan.
“In the hall,” replied Charcam.
« Alone ?"
“Not exactly, sir. There's another lad at the gate
waiting for him—the same who was here just now,
that Sir Rowland was speaking of, who fastened up
the jewel-case for her ladyship.
"A jewel-case !” exclaimed Jonathan. "Ah, I
see it all!" he cried with a quick glance. "Jack
--


158
JACK SHEPPARD
Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. Was anything missed
after the lad's departure, Sir Rowland ?”
“Not that I am aware of,” said the knight. “Stay,
something occurs to me." And he conferred apart with
Jonathan.
“That's it,” cried Wild, when Trenchard concluded.
"This young fool is come to restore the article-what-
ever it may be-which Lady Trafford was anxious to
conceal, and which his companion purloined. It's pre-
cisely what such a simpleton would do. We have him
safe as a linnet in a cage; and could wring his neck
round as easily. Oblige me by acting under my
guidance in the matter, Sir Rowland. I'm an old
hand at such things. Hark'e," he added, “Mr.
What’s-your-name?”
“Charcam,” replied the attendant, bowing.
“Very well, Mr. Charcoal, you may bring in the
boy.
But pot a word to him of Lady Trafford's
absence--mind that. A robbery has been committed,
and your master suspects this lad as an accessory to
the offence. He therefore desires to interrogate him.
It will be necessary to secure his companion; and as
you say he is not in the house, some caution must be
used in approaching him, or he may chance to take to
his heels, for he's a slippery little rascal. When you've
seized him, cough thrice thus—and two rough-looking
gentlemen will make their appearance. Don't be
alarmed by their manners, Mr. Charcoal. They're apt
to be surly to strangers, but it soon wears off. The
gentleman with the red beard will relieve you of your
prisoner. The other must call a coach as quickly as
be can.”
“For whom, sir ?" inquired Charcam.
“For membis master, Mr. Jonathan Wild."
“Are you Mr. Jonathan Wild ?" asked the attendant
in great trepidation.
"I am, Charcoal. But don't let my name frighten


JACK SHEPPARD
159
you; though," said the thief-taker, with a complacent
smile, "all the world seems to tremble at it. Obey
my orders, and you've nothing to fear. About them,
quickly. Lead the lad to suppose that he'll be intro-
duced to Lady Trafford. You understand me, Char-
The attendant did not understand him. He
was confounded by the presence in which he found
himself. But, not daring to confess his want of com-
prehension, he made a profound reverence, and retired.
coal.”
IX
Consequences of the T'heft.
“How do you mean to act, sir ?" inquired Trenchard,
as soon as they were left alone.
“As circumstances shall dictate, Sir Rowland," re-
turned Jonathan. "Something is sure to arise in the
course of the investigation of which I can take advan.
tage. If not, I'll convey him to Saint Giles's Round-
house on my own responsibility.”
"Is this your notable scheme?” asked the knight
scornfully.
"Once there," proceeded Wild, without noticing the
interruption, "he's as good as in his grave. The con-
stable, Sharples, is in my pay. I can remove the
prisoner at any hour of the night I think fit; and I
will remove him, You must know, Sir Rowland-for
I've no secrets from youấthat, in the course of my
business, I've found it convenient to become the owner
of a small Dutch sloop, by means of which I can
transmit any light ware--guch as gold watches, rings,
and plate, as well as occasionally a bank or goldsmith's
note, which has been spoken with by way of the mail
- you understand me to Holland or Flanders, and


160
JACK SHEPPARD
obtain a secure and ready market for them. This
vessel is now in the river, off Wapping. Her cargo
is nearly shipped. She will sail at early dawn
to-morrow, for Rotterdam. Her commander, Rykhart
Van Galgebrok, is devoted to my interest. As soon
as he gets into blue water, he'll think no more of
pitching the boy overboard than of lighting his pipe.
This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore.
I've tried the plan, and found it answer. The Northern
Ocean keeps a secret better than the Thames, Sir
Rowland. Before midnight your nephew shall be safe
beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang.”
“Poor child !” muttered Trenchard abstractedly;
“the whole scene upon the river is passing before me.
I hear the splash in the water—I see the white object
floating like a sea-bird on the tide-it will not sink!”
“Sblood !” exclaimed Jonathan, in a tone of ill-
disguised contempt; "it won't do to indulge those
fancies now.
Be seated and calm yourself
“I have often conjured up some frightful vision of
the dead," murmured the knight, “but I never dreamed
of an interview with the living.'
“I'll be over in a few minutes," rejoined Jonathan
impatiently; "in fact, it'll be over too soon for me.
I like such interviews. But we waste time. Have
the goodness to affix your name to that memorandum,
Sir Rowland. I require nothing, you see, till my share
of the contract is fulfilled.”
Trenchard took up a pen.
“ It's the boy's death-
warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile.
“I cannot sign it,” returned Trenchard.
“Damnation !” exclaimed Wild, with a snarl that
displayed his glistening fangs to the farthest extremity
of his mouth. “I'm not to be trifled with thus. That
paper must be signed, or I take my departure.”
“Go, sir," rejoined the knight haughtily.
“Ay, ay, I'll go, fast enough!" returned Jonathan,


JACK SHEPPARD
161
putting bis hands into his pockets, “but not alone,
Sir Rowland.” At this juncture the door was flung
open, and Charcam entered, dragging in Thames, whom
he held by the collar, and who struggled in vain to
free himself from the grasp imposed upon him.
“Here's one of the thieves, Sir Rowland !” cried the
attendant. “I was only just in time. The young
rascal had learnt from some of the women servants
that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the
very act of making off when I got downstairs. Come
along, my Newgate bird !” he continued, shaking him
with great violence. Jonathan gave utterance to a
low whistle.
“If things had gone smoothly," he thought, “I
should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. As it is,
I'm not sorry for the blunder.” Trenchard, meanwhile,
whose gaze was fixed upon the boy, became livid as
death, but he moved not a muscle.
""T'is he!” he mentally ejaculated.
“What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland ?”
whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards
Thames, so that his features were concealed from the
youth's view. “It would be a thousand pities, wouldn't
it, to put so promising a lad out of the way?"
“Devil !” exclaimed the knight fiercely. “Give
me the paper.”
Jonathan hastily picked up the pen, and presented
it to Trenchard, who attached his signature to the
document.
“If I am the devil,” observed Wild," as some folks
assert, and I myself am not unwilling to believe, you'll
find that I differ from the generally-received notions
of the arch-fiend, and faithfully execute the commands
of those who confide their souls to my custody.”
“Take hence this boy, then,” rejoined Trenchard ;
« his looks unman me
“Of what am I accused ?" asked hames, who,
>


162
JACK SHEPPARD
though a good deal alarmed at first, had now regained
bis courage;
21
“Of robbery !" replied Jonathan, in a thundering
voice, and suddenly confronting him. “You're charged
with assisting your comrade, Jack Sheppard, to purloin
certain articles of value from a jewel-case belonging to
Lady Trafford. Aha!” he continued, producing a short
silver staff, which he carried constantly about him, and
uttering a terrible imprecation, “I see you're cop.
founded. Down on your marrow-bones, sirrah! Confess
your guilt, and Sir Rowland may yet save you from
the gallows."
“I've nothing to confess," replied Thames boldly:
" I've done do wrong.
Are you my accuser ?”
"I am," replied Wild; "bave you anything to
allege to the contrary?”
“Only this,” returned Thames ; "that the charge
is false and malicious, and that you know it to be so.'
“Is that all ?” retorted Jonathan. 'Comc, I must
search you, my youngster!”.
“ You shan't touch me," rejoined Thames; and,
suddenly bursting from Charcam, he threw himself
at the feet of Trenchard. Hear
me,
Sir Rowland !”
he cried ; "I am innocent. I have stolen nothing.
This person-this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for
the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street,
is—I know not why—my enemy. He has sworn that
he'll take away my life !”
“ Bah!” interrupted Jonathan. “ You won't listen
to this nonsense, Sir Rowland !”
“ If you are innocent, boy,” said the knight, con-
trolling his emotion, "you have nothing to apprehend.
But what brought you here?”
“Excuse me, Sir Rowlaod. I cannot answer that
question. My business is with Lady Trafford.”
"Are you aware that I am her ladyship's brother?”
returned the knight. “She has no secrets from me."


JACK SHEPPARD
163
“Possibly not,” returned Thames, in some confusion;
" but I am not at liberty to speak.”
“Your hesitation is not in your favour," observed
Trepchard sternly.
“Will he consent to be searched ?” inquired Jona-
than.
“No," rejoined Thames ; "I won't be treated like
a common felon, if I can help it.”
“ You shall be treated according to your deserts,
then,” said Jonathan maliciously. . And, in spite of
the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his
pockets, and drew forth the miniature.
“Where did you get this from ?” asked Wild,
greatly surprised at the result of his investigation.
Thames returned no answer.
"I thought as much," continued Jonathan.
« But
we'll find a way to make you open your lips presently.
Bring in his comrade," he added in a whisper to
Charcam; “I'll take care of him. And don't neglect
my instructions this time." Upon which, with an assur-
ance that he would not do so, the attendant departed.
“You can, of course, identify this picture as Lady
Trafford's property ?” pursued Jonathan, with a mean
ing glance, as he handed it to the knight.
“I can,” replied Trenchard. “Ha!” he exclaimed,
with a sudden start, as his glance fell upon the
portrait; "bow came this into your possession, boy?”
Why don't you answer, sirrah ?" cried Wild, in a
savagc tone, and striking him with the silver staff.
"Can't you speak?"
“I don't choose," replied Thames sturdily; " and
your brutality shan't make me.”
“We'll see that," replied Jonathan, dealing him
another and more violent blow.
“Let him alone," said Trenchard authoritatively.
“I have another question to propose. Do you know
whose portrait this is ?”


64
JACK SHEPPARD
>>
"I do not,” replied Thames, repressing his tears ;
But I believe it to be the portrait of my father.”
“ Indeed !” exclaimed the knight, in astonishment.
“Is your father alive?”
No," returned Thames ; "he was assassinated
while I was an infant."
“Who told you this is his portrait ?” demanded
Trenchard.
“My heart,” rejoined Thames firmly; "which now
tells me I am in the presence of his murderer.”
“That's me," interposed Jonathan; "a thief-taker
is always a murderer in the eyes of a thief. I'm
almost sorry your suspicions are unfounded, if your
father in any way resembled you, my youngster. But
I can tell you who'll have the pleasure of hanging
your father's son; and that's a person not a hundred
miles distant from you at this moment-ha! ha!”
As he said this, the door was opened, and Charcam
entered, accompanied by a dwarfish, shabby-looking
man, in a brown serge frock, with coarse Jewish
features, and a long red beard. Between the Jew and
the attendant came Jack Sheppard; while a crowd of
servants, attracted by the news that the investigation
of a robbery was going forward, lingered at the door-
way, in hopes of catching something of the proceedings.
When Jack was brought in, he cast a rapid glance
around him, and perceiving Thames in the custody of
Jonathan, instantly divined how matters stood. As
he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant
wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to
comprehend.
“Get it over quickly," said Trenchard in a whisper
to the thief-taker. Jonathan nodded assent.
“What's your name?” he said, addressing the
audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly and
if nothing material was going on.
“Jack Sheppard," returned the boy, fixing his eyes


JACK SHEPPARD
165
upon a portrait of the Earl of Mar. “Who's that
queer cove in the full-bottomed wig ?”
“Attend to me, sirrah,” rejoined Wild sternly. “Do
you know this picture ?” he added, with another
significant look, and pointing to the miniature.
“I do,” replied Jack carelessly.
“ That's well. Can
you
inform us whence it
came?”
“I should think so."
“State the facts, then."
“It came from Lady Trafford's jewel-box.”
Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assem-
blage outside.
“Close the door!” commanded Trenchard im-
patiently.
“In my opinion, Sir Rowland,” suggested Jonathan,
“you'd better allow the court to remain open.”
"Be it so," replied the knight, who saw the force of
this reasoning “Continue the proceedings."
"You say that the miniature was abstracted from
Lady Trafford's jewel-box,” said Jonathan, in a loud
voice. " Who took it thence ?"
“ Thames Darrell, the boy at your side.”
"Jack!” cried Thames, in indignant surprise. But
Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. A loud
buzz of curiosity circulated among the domestics; some
of whom, especially the females, leaned forward to
peep at the culprit.
"Si-lence !” vociferated Charcam, laying great em-
phasis on the last syllable.
“Were you present at the time of the robbery?”
pursued Jonathan.
"I was," answered Sheppard.
“And will you swear to it?”
"I will."
"Liar !” ejaculated Thamos.
« Enough !” exclaimed Wild triumphantly. “Close


166
JACK SHEPPARD
the court, Mr. Charcoal. They've heard quite enough
for my purpose,” he muttered, as his orders were
obeyed, and the domestics excluded. “It's too late
to carry 'em before a magistrate now, Sir Rowland; 80,
with your permission, I'll give 'em a night's lodging
in Saint Giles's Roundhouse. You, Jack Sheppard,
have nothing to fear, as you've become evidence against
your accomplice. To-morrow I shall carry you be-
fore Justice Walters, who'll take your information;
and I've no doubt but Thames Darrell will be fully
committed. Now for the cage, my pretty canary-
bird. Before we start, I'll accommodate you with a
pair of ruffles.” And he proceeded to handcuff his
captive.
“Hoar me!” cried Thames, bursting into tears.
“I am innocent. I could not have committed this
robbery. I have only just left Wych Street. Send
for Mr. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the
truth."
“You'd better hold your peace, my lad,” observed
Jonathan, in a menacing tone.
Lady Trafford would not have thus condemned
me !” cried Thames.
Away with him!” exclaimed Sir Rowland im-
patiently.
"Take the prisoners below, Nab,” said Jonathan,
addressing the dwarfish Jew. l'll join you in an
instant."
The bearded miscreant seized Jack by the waist,
and Thames by the nape of the neck, and marched off,
like the ogre in the fairy tale, with a boy under each
arm, while Charcam brought up the rear.


JACK SHEPPARD
167
X
Mother and Son.
They had scarcely been gone a moment, when a con-
fused noise was heard without, and Charcam re-entered
the room, with a countenance of the utmost bewilder-
ment and alarm.
“What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild.
“Her ladyship ” faltered the attendant.
“What of her?" cried the knight. “Is she returned ?"
“Y-e-s, Sir Rowland,” stammered Charcam.
“The devil !” ejaculated Jonathan.
“ Here's a cross-
bite.”
“But that's not all, your honour,” continued Char-
cam; “Mrs. Norris says she's dying."
Dying !” echoed the knight.
"Dying, Sir Rowland. She was taken dreadfully
ill on the road, with spasms, and short breath, and
swoonings—worse than ever she was before. And
Mrs. Norris was so frightened that she ordered the
postboys to drive back as fast as they could. She never
expected to get her ladyship home alive."
“My God!” cried Trenchard, stunned by the intelli-
gence, “I have killed her.”
“No doubt,” rejoined Wild, with a sneer; "but
don't let all the world know it.”
“They're lifting her out of the carriage,” interposed
Charcam; “will it please your honour to send for
some advice and the chaplain ?”
“Fly for both,” returned Sir Rowland, in a tone of
bitter anguish.
“Stay,"interposed Jonathan. "Where are the boys?"
“In the hall."
"Her ladyship will pass through it?"


168
JACK SHEPPARD
“Of course; there's no other way."
" Then bring them into this room, the first thing-
quick! They must not meet, Sir Rowland,” he added,
as Charcam hastened to obey his instructions.
“Heaven has decreed it otherwise," replied the knight
dejectedly. "I yield to fate."
“ Yield to nothing,” returned Wild, trying to reassure
him ; "above all, when your designs prosper.
Man's
fate is in his own hands. You are your nephew's
executioner, or he is yours. Cast off this weakness.
The next hour makes or mars you for ever. Go to
your sister, and do not quit her till all is over. Leave
the rest to me.
Sir Rowland moved irresolutely towards the door, but
recoiled before a sad spectacle. This was his sister,
evidently in the last extremity. Borne in the arms
of a couple of assistants, and preceded by Mrs. Norris,
wringing her hands and weeping, the unfortunate lady
was placed upon a couch. At the same time Charcam,
who seemed perfectly distracted by the recent occur-
rences, dragged in Thames, leaving Jack Sheppard
outside in the custody of the dwarfish Jew.
“Hell's curses !” muttered Jonathan between his
teeth ; "that fool will ruin all.
Take him away,”
he added, striding up to Charcam.
“Let him remain," interposed Trenchard.
“As you please, Sir Rowland,” returned Jonathan,
with affected indifference; “but I'm not going to hunt
the deer for another to eat the ven’son, depend on't.”
But seeing that no notice was taken of the retort, he
drew a little aside, and folding his arms, muttered,
“The whim will soon be over. She can't last long. I
can pull the strings of this stiff-necked puppet as I
please.”
Sir Rowland, meantime, threw himself on his knees
beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within
his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate


JACK SHEPPARD
169
terms. For a few minutes she appeared scarcely sensible
of his presence. But, after some restoratives had been
administered by Mrs. Norris, she revived a little.
“Rowland," she said, in a faint voice, “I have not
many minutes to live. Where is Father Spencer ? I
must have absolution. I have something that weighs
heavily upon my mind.” Sir Rowland's brow darkened.
“I have sent for him, Aliva,” he answered ; “ he will
be here directly, with your medical advisers.”
They are useless," she returned. “Medicine cannot
save me now.”
Dear sister
"I should die happy if I could behold my child."
“Comfort yourself, then, Aliva. You shall behold
him.”
“ You are mocking me, Rowland. Jests are not for
seasons like this."
"I am not, by Heaven!” returned the knight solemnly.
" Leave us, Mrs. Norris, and do not return till Father
Spencer arrives.”
“Your ladyship-” hesitated Mrs. Norris.
“Go!” said Lady Trafford ; “it is last request."
And her faithful attendant, drowned in tears, with-
drew, followed by the two assistants. Jonathan stepped
behind a curtain.
“Rowland,” said Lady Trafford, regarding him with
a look of indescribable anxiety, "you have assured me
that I shall behold my son. Where is he?”
“Within this room,” replied the knight.
“Here!” shrieked Lady Trafford.
Here,” repeated her brother. “But calm yourself,
dear sister, or the interview will be too much for you."
“I am calm-quite calm, Rowland,” she answered,
with lips whose agitation belied her words. « Then the
story of his death was false. I knew it. I was sure
you could not have the heart to slay a child-an inno
cent child. God forgive you!"
my


170
JACK SHEPPARD
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 me no longer. Moments are ages Dow.
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 bappy
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."


JACK SHEPPARD
171
“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 compre-
hending 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 Trenchard. “ His life-or yours?”.
“No one shall harm you more, my dear,” cried Lady
Trafford. “Your uncle must protect you. It will be
his interest to do so. He will be dependent on you."
"Do what you please with him," muttered Trenchard
to Wild.
“Take off these chains, Rowland," said Lady Trafford,
"instantly—I command you."
“I will,” replied Jonathan, advancing, and rudely
seizing Thames.
“Mother!” cried the son—"help!”
“What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising
herself on the couch, and extending her hand!) towards
him. "O God! would you take him from me!--would
you murder him?"
“ His father's name?-and he is free," rejoined
Rowland, holding her arms.
“Release him first, and I will disclose it !” cried
Lady Trafford ; "on my soul, I will!”


172
JACK SHEPPARD
“Speak, then!” returned Rowland.
"Too late!” shrieked the lady, falling heavily back-
wards "too late !-oh!” Heedless of her cries,
Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's
mouth, and forced him out of the room. When he
returned, a moment or so afterwards, he found Sir
Rowland standing by the lifeless body of his sister
His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that
of the corpse by his side.
“This is your work,” said the knight sternly.
"Not entirely,” replied Jonathan calmly; "though
I shouldn't be ashamed of it if it were.
After all, you
failed in obtaining the secret from her, Sir Rowland.
Women are hypocrites to the last--true only to
themselves.”
“Peace !” cried the knight fiercely.
No offence,” returned Jonathan. “I was merely
about to observe that I am in possession of her secret.”
“ You !”
“ Didn't I tell you that the fugitive Darrell give me
a glove? But we'll speak of this hereafter.
purchase the information from me whenever you're so
disposed. I shan't drive a hard bargain. To the
point, however. I came back to say that I've placed
your nephew in a coach ; and if you'll be at my lock
in the Old Bailey an hour after midnight, you shall
hear the last tidings of him.”
“I will be there,” answered Trenchard gloomily.
“You'll not forget the thousand, Sir Rowland-short
accounts, you know."
“Fear nothing. You shall have your reward.”
Thank'e-tbank’e. My house is the next door to
the Coopers’ Arms, in the Old Bailey, opposite Newgate.
You'll find me at supper." So saying, he bowed and
departed.
That man should have been an Italian bravo,”
murmured the knight, sinking into a chair; "he has
You can


JACK SHEPPARD
173
neither fear nor compunction. Would I could purchase
his apathy as easily as I can procure his assistance."
Soon after this Mrs. Norris entered the room, followed
by Father Spencer. On approaching the couch, they
found Sir Rowland senseless and extended over the
dead body of his unfortunate sister,
XI
The Mohocks.
JONATHAN WILD, meanwhile, had quitted the house.
He found a coach at the door, with the blinds care-
fully drawn up, and ascertained from a tall, ill-looking,
though tawdrily-dressed fellow, who held his horse by
the bridle, and whom he addressed as Quilt Arnold, that
the two boys were safe inside, in the custody of Abraham
Mendez, the dwarfish Jew. As soon as he had delivered
his instructions to Quilt, who, with Abraham, consti-
tuted his body-guard, or janizaries, as he termed them,
Jonathan mounted his steed, and rode off at a gallop.
Quilt was not long in following his example. Spring-
ing upon the box, he told the coachman to make the
best of his way to Saint Giles's. Stimulated by the
promise of something handsome to drink, the man
acquitted himself to admiration in the management
of his lazy cattle. Crack went the whip, and away
floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of
the ill-kept road, or rather lane (for it was little better),
which then led across Southampton Fields. Skirting
the noble gardens of Montague House (now, we need
scarcely say, the British Museum), the party speedily
reached Great Russell Street—a quarter described by
Strype, in his edition of Old Stow's famous Survey, “as
being graced with the best buildings in all Bloomsbury,


174
JACK SHEPPARD
and the best inhabited by the nobility and gentry,
especially on the north side, as having gardens behind
the houses, and the prospect of the pleasant fields up
to Hampstead and Highgate; insomuch that this place,
by physicians, is esteemed the most healthful of any
in London.” Neither of the parties outside bestowed
much attention upon these stately and salubriously-
situated mansions; indeed, as it was now not far from
ten o'clock, and quite dark, they could scarcely discern
them. But in spite of bis general insensibility to such
matters, Quilt could not belp commenting upon the
delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-
beds past which they were driving. The coachman
answered by a surly grunt, and, plying his whip with
redoubled zeal, shaped his course down Dyot Street;
traversed that part of Holborn which is now called
Broad Street, and where two ancient almshouses were
then standing in the middle of that great throughfare,
exactly opposite the opening of Compton Street; and,
diving under a wide gateway on the left, soon reached a
more open space, surrounded by mean habitations, coach-
houses and stables, called Kendrick Yard, at the farther
end of which Saint Giles's Roundhouse was situated.
No sooner did the vehicle turn the corner of this
yard, than Quilt became aware, from the tumultuous
sounds that reached his ears, as well as from the flash-
ing of various lanterns at the door of the roundhouse,
that some disturbance was going on; and, apprehen-
sive of a rescue if he drew up in the midst of a mob,
he thought it prudent to come to a halt. Accordingly,
he stopped the coach, dismounted, and hastened to-
wards the assemblage, which, he was glad to find,
consisted chiefly of a posse of watchmen and other
guardians of the night. Quilt, who was an ardent
lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily
at the rueful appearance of these personages.
of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in
Not one


JACK SHEPPARD
175
a recent and severe conflict. Quarter-staves, bludgeons,
brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike
shivered; and to judge from the sullied state of their
habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty
freely. Never was heard such a bawling as these
unfortunate wights kept up. Oaths exploded like
shells from a battery in full fire, accompanied by threats
of direst vengeance against the individuals who had
maltreated them. Here might be seen a poor fellow
whose teeth were knocked down his throat, spluttering
out the most tremendous menaces, and gesticulating
like a madman; there another, whose nose was par-
tially slit, vented imprecations and lamentations in
the same breath. On the right stood a bulky figure,
with a broken rattle hanging out of his greatcoat pocket,
who held up a lantern to his battered countenance, to
prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were
darkened; on the left a meagre constable had divested
himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience
a gaping cut in the arm.
"So, the Mohocks have been at work, I perceive,"
remarked Quilt, as he drew near the group.
Faith, an' you may say that,” returned a watch-
man, who was wiping a ruddy stream from his brow;
they have broken the paice, and our pates into the
bargain. But shurely I'd know that vice," he added,
turning his lantern towards the janizary. "Ah! Quilt
Arnold, my man, is it you ? By the powers ! I'm glad
to see you. The sight o' your 'andsome phiz allys
does me good.”
“I wish I could return the compliment, Terry. But
your cracked skull is by no means a pleasing spectacle.
How came you by the hurt, eh?”
“How did I come by it ?—that's a nate question.
Why, honestly enough. It was lent me by a country.
man o' mine ; but I paid him back in his own coin-
ha! ha!”


170
JACK SHEPPARD
"A countryman of yours, Terry?”
“Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt-more's the pity!
You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?”
“Of
course ;
wbo has not? He's the leader of the
Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of
rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the
terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls !”
" That's him to a hair !” cried Terence rapturously.
“Och! he's a broth of a boy!”
Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry'
“Pooh! that's nothin'! A piece o' plaster'll set all
to rights; and Terry O'Flaberty's not the boy to care
for the stroke of a supple.jack. Besides, didn't I tell
you that I giv' him as good as he brought--and better !
I jist touched him with my · Evenin' Star,' as I call
this shillelah," said the watchman, flourishing an
immense bludgeon, the knob of which appeared to be
loaded with lead, “and, by Saint Patrick ! down he
cum'd like a bullock."
“Zounds !” exclaimed Quilt, “ did you kill him ?”
“Not quite,” replied Terence, laughing ; "but I
brought him to his senses."
“By depriving him of 'em, eh? But I'm sorry you
hurt bis lordship, Terry Young noblemen ought to
be indulged in their frolics. If they do, now and
then, run away with a knocker, paint a sign, beat the
watch, or buff a magistrate, they pay for their pastime,
and that's sufficient. What more could any reasonable
man-especially a watchman-desire ? Besides, the
marquis is a devilish fine fellow, and a particular friend
of mive. There's not bis peer among the peerage."
“Oh! if he's a friend o' yours, my dear joy,
there's no more to be said ; and right sorry am I, I
struck him. But, blood-an'-'ouns ! man, if ould Nick
himself were to hit me a blow, I'd be after givin' him
another.”
“Well, well—wait awhile," returned Quilt; "his


JACK SHEPPARD
177
lordship won't forget you. He's as generous as he's
frolicsome.”
As he spoke, the door of the roundhouse was opened,
and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented
himself at the threshold.
“There's Sharples,” cried Quilt.
“ Whist !” exclaimed Terence; "he elevates his
glim. By Jasus ! he's about to spake to us.”
“Gem’men o'the votch ?” cried Sharples, as loudly
as a wheezy cough would permit him, “my noble
pris'ner-ough! ough!- the Marquis o' Slaughter
ford-
Further speech was cut short by a volley of execra-
tions from the angry guardians of the night.
“No Mohocks! No Scourers !” cried the mob.
“ Hear! hear !” vociferated Quilt.
"His lordship desires me to say-ough! ough!"
Fresh groans and hisses. “ Von't you hear me ?--
ough ! ough!” demanded Sharples, after a pause.
“By all means," rejoined Quilt.
“Raise your vice, and lave off coughin'," added
Terence.
“ The long and the short o' the matter's this, then,"
returned Sharples, with dignity; "the markis begs
your acceptance of ten guineas to drink bis health."
The hooting was instantaneously changed to cheers.
“And his lordship, furthermore, requests me to
state," proceeded Sharples, in a hoarse tone, “that
he'll be responsible for the doctor's bills of all such
gem'men as have received broken pates, or been other-
wise damaged in the fray-ough! ough !”
“Hurrah !" shouted the mob.
“We're all damaged-—-we've all got broken pates,"
cried a dozen voices.
“Ay, good luck to him! so we have,” rejoined
Terence; " but we've no objection to take out the
docthor's bill in drink,"


178
JACK SHEPPARD
“None whatever,” replied the mob.
“Your answer, gem'men?" demanded Sharples.
Long life to the markis, and we accept his
honourable proposal,” responded the mob.
“Long life to the marquis,” reiterated Terence;
“he's an honour to ould Ireland !”
“Didn't I tell you how it would be?” remarked
Quilt.
"Troth, and so did you," returned the watchman
" but I couldn't belave it. In futur' I'll keep the
‘Evenin' Star' for his lordship's enemies.”
“You'd better,” replied Quilt.
“But bring your
glim this way. I've a couple of kinchens in yonder
rattler, whom I wish to place under old Sharples'
;
>>
care."
“Be handy, then," rejoined Terence, “or I'll lose
my share of the smart money."
With the assistance of Terence, and a linkboy who
volunteered his services, Quilt soon removed the
prisoners from the coach, and leaving Sheppard to the
custody of Abraham, proceeded to drag Thames to-
wards the roundhouse. Not a word had been ex-
changed between the two boys on the road. Whenever
Jack attempted to speak, he was checked by an angry
growl from Abraham; and Thames, though his heart
was full almost to bursting, felt no inclination to break
the silence. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful
for utterance, and so acute were his feelings, that for
some time they quite overcame him. But his grief
was of short duration. The elastic spirits of youth
resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped,
his tears had ceased to flow. As to Jack Sheppard,
he appeared utterly reckless and insensible, and did
nothing but whistle and sing the whole way.
While he was dragged along in the manner just
described, Thames looked around to ascertain, if
possible, where he was; for he did not put entire


JACK SHEPPARD
179
faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to the round-
house, and was apprehensive of something even worse
than imprisonment. The aspect of the place, so far as
he could discern through the gloom, was strange to
him; but chancing to raise his eyes above the level
of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved
against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint
Giles's Church, the precursor of the present structure,
which was not erected till some fifteen years later.
He recognised this object at once. Jonathan had not
deceived him.
“What's this here kinchen in for?” asked Terence,
as he and Quilt strode along with Thames between
them.
“What for?" rejoined Quilt evasively.
“Oh: nothin' partickler-mere curossity,” replied
Terence. “By the powers !” he added, turning his
lantern full upon the face of the captive," he's a nice,
genteel-lookin kiddy, I must say. Pity he's ta'en to
bad ways so airly.”
“ You may spare me your compassion, friend,"
observed Thames; “I am falsely detained.”
“Of course," rejoined Quilt maliciously; "every
thief is so.
If we were to wait till a prig was right-
fully nabbed, we might tarry till doomsday. We never
supposed you helped yourself to a picture set with
diamonds-not we!”
“Is the guv'ner consarned in this job?” asked
Terence, in a whisper.
“He is,” returned Quilt significantly. “Zounds!
what's that?” he cried, as the noise of a scuffle was
heard behind them. - The other kid's given my
partner the slip. Here, take this youngster, Terry ;
my legs are lighter than old Nab's." And, committing
Thames to the care of the watchman, he darted after
the fugitive.
"Do you wish to earn a rich reward, my good


180
JACK SHEPPARD
6
friend?" said Thames to the watchman, as soon as
they were left alone.
“Is it by lettin' you go, my darlin', that I'm to airn
it?” inquired Terence. “ If
SO,
it won't
pay.
You're
Misther Wild's pris’ner, and worse luck to it!
“I don't ask you to liberate me,” urged Thames ;
“ but will you convey a message for me?”
“Where to, honey?"
“To Mr. Wood's, the carpenter, in Wych Street.
He lives near the Black Lion."
" The Black Lion !" echoed Terence. “I know the
house well; by the same token that it's a flash crib.
Och! many a mug o' bubb have I drained wi' the
landlord, Joe Hind. And so Misther Wood lives near
the Black Lion, eh?”
“He does,” replied Thames. “Tell him that I-
his adopted son, Thames Darrell—am detained here
by Jonathan Wild.”
“Thames Ditton-is that your name ?”
"No," replied the boy impatiently; " Darrell
Thames Darrell."
“I'll not forget it. It's a mighty quare 'un, though.
I never yet heard of a Christian as was named after
the Shannon or the Liffey; and the Thames is no more
than a dhurty puddle compared wi' them two noble
strames. But then you're an adopted son, and that
makes all the difference. People do call their un-
lawful children strange names. Are you quite sure
you haven't another alyas, Masther Thames Ditton ?”
Darrell, I tell you. Will you go? You'll be paid
handsomely for your trouble.”
“I don't mind the trouble,” hesitated Terence, who
was really a good-hearted fellow at the bottom, "and
I'd like to sarve you if I could, for you look like a
gentleman's son, and that goes a great way wi' me.
But if Misther Wild were to find out that I thwarted
his schames-
66


JACK SHEPPARD
181
16 would you
“I'd not be in your skin for a trifle,” interrupted
Quilt, who, having secured Sheppard, and delivered
him to Abraham, now approached them unawares;
"and it shan't be my fault if he don't hear of it.”
“ Ouns !” ejaculated Terence in alarm,
turn snitch on your old pal, Quilt ?”
"Ay, if he plays a-cross," returned Quilt. “Come
along, my sly shaver. With all your cunning, we're
more than a match for you.”
“But not for me,” growled Terence, in an undertone.
“Remember!” cried Quilt, as he forced the captive
along.
“ Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had re-
covered his natural audacity. “Do you think I'm afeard
of a beggarly thief-taker and his myrmidons ? Not I.
Masther Thames Ditton, I'll do your biddin’; and you,
Misther Quilt Arnold, may do your worst; I defy you.'
“Dog!” exclaimed Quilt, turning fiercely upon
him;
“do you threaten ?” But the watchman eluded
his grasp, and, mingling with the crowd, disappeared.
XII
Saint Giles's Roundhouse.
SAINT GILES'S ROUNDHOUSE was an old detached fabric,
standing in an angle of Kendrick Yard. Originally
built, as its name imports, in a cylindrical form, like a
modern Martello tower, it had undergone, from time to
time, so many alterations, that its symmetry was, in a
great measure, destroyed. Bulging out more in the
middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an
enormous cask set on its end—a sort of Heidelberg
tun on a large scale--and this resemblance was increased
by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved


182
JACK SHEPPARD
to be called a door---pierced, like the bunghole of
a barrel, through the side of the structure, at some
distance from the ground, and approached by a flight
of wooden steps. The prison was two stories high,
with a flat roof, surmounted by a gilt vane, fashioned
like a key; and, possessing considerable internal ac-
commodation, it had in its day lodged some thousands
of disorderly personages. The windows were small, and
strongly grated, looking in front on Kendrick Yard,
and at the back upon the spacious burial.ground of
Saint Giles's Church. Lights gleamed from the lower
rooms, and, on a nearer approach to the building, the
sound of revelry might be heard from within.
Warned of the approach of the prisoners by the
increased clamour, Sharples, who was busied in distri.
buting the marquis's donation, affected to throw the
remainder of the money among the crowd, though, in
reality, he kept back a couple of guineas, which he
slipped into his sleeve, and running hastily up the
steps, unlocked the door. He was followed more
leisurely by the prisoners; and, during their ascent,
Jack Sheppard made a second attempt to escape by
ducking suddenly down, and endeavouring to pass
under his conductor's legs. The dress of the dwarfish
Jew was not, however, favourable to this expedient.
Jack was caught, as in a trap, by the pendent tails of
Abraham's long frock; and, instead of obtaining his
release by his ingenuity, he only got a sound thrashing.
Sharples received them at the threshold, and holding
his lantern towards the prisoners to acquaint himself
with their features, nodded to Quilt, between whom
and himself some secret understanding seemed to sub-
sist, and then closed and barred the door.
"Vell,” he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know
who's 'ere, I suppose ?”
“To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend,
the Marquis of Slaughterford. What of that?"
22


JACK SHEPPARD
183
“Vot o' that ?" echoed Sharples peevishly; "every-
thin'. Vot am I to do with these young imps, eh?”
"What you generally do with your prisoners, Mr.
Sharples," replied Quilt; "lock 'em up."
“That's easily said. But suppose I've no place to
lock 'em up in, how then ?” Quilt looked a little
perplexed. He passed his arm under that of the
constable, and drew him aside.
“Vell, vell,” growled Sharples, after he had listened
to the other's remonstrances, “it shall be done. But
it's confounded inconvenient. One don't often get
sich a vindfall as the markis-
“Or such a customer as Mr. Wild,” edged in Quilt.
"Now then, Saint Giles!” interposed Sheppard,
are we to be kept here all night ?”
“Heyday !” exclaimed Sharples; “wot new-fledged
bantam's this?”
“One that wants to go to roost,” replied Sheppard.
“So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles, and, if you mean
to lock us up, use despatch.”
“Comin'! comin'!" returned the constable, shuffling
towards him.
“Coming !--so is midnight-80 is Jonathan Wild,"
retorted Jack, with a significant look at Thames.
“Have you never an out-o'-the-vay corner into vich
you couldg shtow these troublesome warmint ?" ob-
served Abraham. “ The guv'ner'll be here afore
midnight.”
Darrell's attention was drawn to the latter part of
this speech by a slight pressure on his foot. And,
turning at the touch, he perceived Sheppand's glance
fixed meaningly upon him.
“Stow it, Nab!” exclaimed Quilt angrily; "the
kinchen's awake."
“Awake !--to be sure I am, my flash cove," replied
Sheppard; “I'm down as a hammer.”
“I've just bethought me of a crib as'll sarve their


184
JACK SHEPPARD
turn," interposed Sharples; "at any rate, they'll be
out of the way, and as safe as two chicks in a coop"
“ Lead the way to it, then, Saint Giles,” said Jack,
in a tone of mock authority.
The place in which they stood was a small entrance
chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the
main apartment (of which it is needless to say it
originally constituted a portion) by a stout wooden
partition. A door led to the inner room; and it was
evident, from the peals of merriment and other noises
that ever and anon resounded from within, that this
chamber was occupied by the marquis and his friends.
Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-
bills (weapons then borne by the watch), muskets,
handcuffs, greatcoats, and lanterns. In one angle of
the room stood a disused fireplace, with a rusty grate
and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a
sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards,
that looked like an apology for a cupboard. Towards
this box Sharples directed his steps, and unlocking a
hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large,
and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel.
“Vill this do?" demanded the constable, taking the
candle from the lantern, the better to display the
narrow limits of the hole. “I call this ere crib the
Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guild-
hall. I have squeezed three kids into it afore now.
To be sure," he added, lowering his tone, "they wos
little 'uns, and one on 'em was smothered-ough!
ough !-how this cough chokes me.”
Sheppard, meanwhile, whose hands were at liberty,
managed to possess himself, unperceived, of the spike
of a halberd, which was lying apart from the pole,
upon a bench near him. Having secured this imple-
mont, he burst from his conductor, and, leaping into
the hatch, as clowns generally spring into the clock-
faces, when in pursuit of harlequin in the pantomime


JACK SHEPPARD
185
--that is, back foremost-broke into a fit of loud and
derisive laughter, kicking his beels merrily all the time
against the boards. His mirth, bowever, received an
unpleasant check, for Abraham, greatly incensed by
his previous conduct, caught him by the legs, and
pushed him with such violence into the hole, that the
point of the spike, which he had placed in his pocket,
found its way through his clothes to the flesh, inflicting
a slight but painful wound. Jack, who had something
of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyr-
dom without flinching; and carried his stoical indiffer-
ence so far as even to make a mocking grimace in
Sharples' face, while that amiable functionary thrust
Thames into the recess beside him.
“How do you like your quarters, saucebox?" asked
Sharples, in a jeering tone.
“Better than your company, Saint Giles," replied
Sheppard; “so shut the door, and make yourself scarce."
“ That boy'll never rest till he finds his vay to Bride-
well,” observed Sharples.
“Or the street," returned Jack: “mind my words,
the prison's not built that can keep me.
“We'll see that, young hempseed,” replied Sharples,
shutting the hatch furiously in his face, and locking it.
"If you get out o' that cage I'll forgive you. Now,
come along, gem'men, and I'll show you some precious
sport.”
The two janizaries followed him as far as the entrance
to the inner room, when Abraham, raising his finger to
his lips, and glancing significantly in the direction of
the boys, to explain his intention to his companions,
closed the door after them, and stole softly back again,
planting himself near the recess.
For a few minutes all was silent. At length Jack
Sheppard observed—“The coast's clear. They're gone
into the next room.” Darrell returned no apswer.
“Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued


186
JACK SHEPPARD
Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to
appease his companion's indignation. “I did all for
the best, as I'll explain."
“I won't reproach you, Jack," said the other sternly.
“ I've done with you,
“Not quite, I hope,” rejoined Sheppard. “At all
events, I've not done with you. If you owe your con-
finement to me, you shall owe your liberation to me also.”
“I'd rather lie here for ever than be indebted to you
for my freedom," returned Thames.
“I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack.
“Nothing !” echoed the other scornfully. “You've
perjured yourself.
“That's my own concern,” rejoined Sheppard. “An
oath weighs little with me, compared with your safety."
“No more of this," interrupted Thames; "you make
the matter worse by these excuses."
“Quarrel with me as much as you please, Thames,
but hear me,” returned Sheppard. “ I took the course
I pursued to serve you."
"Tush !” cried Thames; "you accused me to screen
yourself.”
“On my soul, Thames, you wrong me!” replied Jack
passionately. "I'd lay down my life for yours.”
“And you expect me to believe you after what has
passed ?"
“I do; and more than that, I expect you to thank me.”
“For procuring my imprisonment?”
“For saving your life.'
“ How?"
"Listen to me, Thames. You're in a more serious
scrape than you imagine. I overheard Jonathan Wild's
instructions to Quilt Arnold, and though he spoke
in slang, and in an undertone, my quick ears, and
acquaintance with the thieves' lingo, enabled me to
make out every word he attered. Jonatban is in
league with Sir Rowland to make away with you.


JACK SHEPPARD
187
You are brought here that their designs may be carried
into effect with greater security. Before morning,
unless we can effect an escape, you'll be kidnapped, or
murdered, and your disappearance attributed to the
negligence of the constable.”
"Are you sure of this?” asked Thames, who, though
as brave a lad as need be, could not repress a shudder
at the intelligence.
“Certain. The moment I entered the room, and
found you a prisoner in the hands of Jonathan Wild,
I guessed how matters stood, and acted accordingly.
Things haven't gone quite as smoothly as I anticipated;
but they might have been worse. I can save you and
vill. But say we
friends."
"You're not deceiving me?" said Thames doubtfully.
"I am not, by Heaven!” replied Sheppard firmly.
“Don't swear, Jack, or I shall distrust you. I can't
give you my hand, but you may take it."
"Thank you! thank you !” faltered Jack, in a voice
iull of emotion. "I'll soon free you from these
bracelets.”
“You needn't trouble yourself," replied Thames.
“Mr. Wood will be here presently.
“Mr. Wood !” exclaimed 'Jack, in surprise. "How
have you managed to communicate with him?"
Abraham, who had listened attentively to the fore-
going conversation--not a word of which escaped him
—now drew in his breath, and brought his ear closer
to the boards.
By means of the watchman who had the charge of
me," replied Thames.
"Curse him!” muttered Abraham.
“ Hist!” exclaimed Jack. “I thought I heard a
noise. Speak lower. Somebody may be on the watch
-perhaps that old ginger-backled Jew.”
“I don't care if he is,” rejoined Thames boldly.
"He'll learn that his plans will be defeated."


188
JACK SHEPPARD
• He
6. You can
voice;
тау
learn how to defeat yours," replied Jack.
“So he may,” rejoined Abraham aloud ; "so he
may.”
“Death and fiends !” exclaimed Jack; “the old
thief is there. I knew it. You've betrayed yourself,
Thames."
· Vot o' that?” chuckled Abraham.
shave him, you know."
“I can," rejoined Jack; "and you too, old Aaron,
if I'd a razor.
“How soon do you expect Mishter Vudd ?” inquired
the janizary tauntingly.
“What's that to you ?” retorted Jack surlily.
“ Because I shouldn't like to be out o' the vay ven
he arrives,” returned Abraham, in a jeering tone; "it
vouldn't be vell bred."
“Vouldn't it?" replied Jack, mimicking his snuffling
“then shtay vere you are, and be cursed to
you."
“It's all up,” muttered Thames. « Mr. Wood will
be intercepted. I've destroyed my only chance."
“Not your only chance, Thames," returned Jack in
the same undertone ; “but your best. Never mind.
We'll turn the tables upon 'em yet.
Do
you
could manage that old clothesman between us, if we
got out of this box { "
“I'd
manage him myself, if my arms were free,”
replied Thames boldly.
‘Shpeak up, vill you ?” cried Abraham, rapping his
knuckles against the hatch. “I likes to hear vot you
says. You can have no shecrets from me.
“Vy don't you talk to your partner, or Saint Giles,
if you vant conversation, Aaron ?” asked Jack slyly.
"Because they're in the next room, and the door's
shut; that's vy, my jack-a-dandy,” replied Abraham
unsuspiciously.
“Oh! they are-are they?" muttered Jack triumph-
think we


JACK SHEPPARD
189
antly; that'll do. Now for it, Thames! Make as
great a row as you can, to divert his attention."
With this, he drew the spike from his pocket, and
drowning the sound of the operation by whistling,
singing, shuffling, and other noises, contrived in a few
minutes to liberate his companion from the handcuffs.
“Now, Jack,” cried Thames, warmly grasping
Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. I freely
forgive you."
Sheppard cordially returned the pressure ; and,
cautioning Thames “not to let the ruffles drop, or
they might tell a tale,” began to warble the following
fragment of a robber melody :-
“Oh! give me a chisel, a knife, or a file,
And the dubsman shall find that I'll do it in style!
Tol-de-rol I"
“Vot the devil are you about, noisy?” inquired
Abraham.
Practising singing, Aaron," replied Jack. " Vot
are you ? "
Practising patience,” growled Abraham.
"Not before it's needed," returned Jack aloud ;
adding, in a whisper, “Get upon my shoulders,
Thames. Now you're up, take this spike. Feel for
the lock, and prise it open-you don't need to be told
how. When it's done, I'll push you through. Take
care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me.
When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room,
The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb;
The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground,
But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found.
Tol-de-rol I”
As Jack concluded his ditty, the door flew open with
a crash, and Thames sprang through the aperture.
This maneuvre was so suddenly executed that it
took Abraham completely by surprise. He was standing
99
G


190
JACK SHEPPARD
at the moment close to the hatch, with his ear at the key.
hole, and received a severe blow in the face; he staggered
back a few paces; and, before he could recover himself,
Thames tripped up his heels, and placing the point of
the spike at his throat, threatened to stab him if he
attempted to stir or cry out. Nor had Jack been idle
all this time. Clearing the recess the instant after his
companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and
locking it, took out the key. The policy of this step
was immediately apparent. Alarmed by the noise of
the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance.
of their comrade. But they were too late. The entrance
was barred against them; and they had the additional
mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at
their discomfiture.
“I told you the prison wasn't built that could hold
me," cried Jack.
“ You're not out yet, you young hound,” rejoined
Quilt, striving ineffectually to burst open the door.
But I soon shall be,” returned Jack. “ Take these,”
he added, flinging the handcuffs against the wooden
partition, “and wear 'em yourself.”
“Hallo, Nab!” vociferated Quilt. “ What the devil
are you about? Will you allow yourself to be beaten
by a couple of kids ?”
“Not if I can help it,” returned Abraham, making a
desperate effort to regain his feet. “By my shalvation,
boy,” he added fiercely, "if you don't take your hand
off my peard I'll shtrangle you.'
Help me, Jack !” shouted Thames, or I shan't
be able to keep the villain down,”
“Stick the spike into him, then," returned Sheppard
“while I unbar the outlet."
But Thames had no intention of following his friend's
advice. Contenting himself with brandishing the
weapon in the Jew's eyes, he exerted all his force to
prevent him from rising.
coolly,


JACK SHEPPARD
191
While this took place, while Quilt thundered at the
inner door, and Jack drew back the bolts of the outer,
a deep manly voice was heard chanting—as if in con-
tempt of the general uproar—the following strain :-
“With pipe and punch upon the board,
And smiling nymphs around us :
No tavern could more mirth afford
Than old Saint Giles's Roundhouse!
The roundhouse, the roundhouse !
The jolly, jolly roundhouse !”
"The jolly, jolly roundhouse !” chorused Sheppard,
as the last bar yielded to his efforts. “ Hurrah ! come
along, Thames; we're free."
“ Not sho fasht—not sho fasht!” cried Abraham,
struggling with Thames, and detaining him; “if you
go, you musht take me along vid you.”
"Save yourself, Jack !” shouted Thames, sinking be-
neath the superior weight and strength of his opponent;
" leave me to my
fate!
"Never,” replied Jack, hurrying towards him. And,
snatching the spike from Thames, he struck the janizary
a severe blow on the head. “I'll make sure work this
time,” he added, about to repeat the blow.
"Hold !” interposed Thames ; "he can do no more
mischief. Let us be gone.”
"As you please," returned Jack, leaping up;
“but I feel devilishly inclined to finish him. How-
ever, it would only be robbing the hangman of his
dues.”
With this, he was preparing to follow his friend,
when their egress was prevented by the sudden appear-
ance of Jonathan Wild and Blueskin.
"


192
JACK SHEPPARD
XIII
The Magdalene.
TAE household of the worthy carpenter, it may be
conceived, was thrown into the utmost confusion and
distress by the unaccountable disappearance of the two
boys. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr.
Wood's anxiety grew so unsupportable, that he seized
his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search
of them, though he did not know whither to bend his
steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle
knock at the door.
“There he is !” cried Winifred, starting up joyfully,
and proving by the exclamation that her thoughts were
dwelling upon one subject only. “There he is !”
“I fear not,” said her father, with a doubtful shake
of the head. “Thames would let himself in; and Jack
generally finds an entrance through the back door or
the shop-window when he has been out at untimely
hours. But go and see who it is, love. Stay! I'll go
myself.”
His daughter, however, anticipated him. She flew
to the door, but returned the next minute, looking
deeply disappointed, and bringing the intelligence that
it was "only Mrs. Sheppard.'
“Who?” almost screamed Mrs. Wood.
"Jack Sheppard's mother," answered the little girl
dejectedly; "she has brought a basket of eggs from
Willesden, and some flowers for you."
“For me!” vociferated Mrs. Wood, in indignant
surprise. “Egge for me! You mistake, child. They
must be for
your
father.”
“No; I'm quite sure she said they're for you,” re-
plied Winifred; "but she does want to see father.”


JACK SHEPPARD
193
7
"I thought as much,” sneered Mrs. Wood.
"I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling to
wards the door. “I dare say she has called to inquire
about Jack.”
“I dare say no such thing,” interposed his better
half authoritatively; "remain where you are, sir."
“At all events, let me send her away, my dear,"
supplicated the carpenter, anxious to avert the impend-
ing storm.
“Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing
vehemence. “Stir a foot at your peril.”
But, my love,” still remonstrated Wood, “you
know I'm going to look after the boys
“After Mrs. Sheppard, you mean, sir,” interrupted
his wife ironically.
* Don't think to deceive me by your
false pretences. Marry, come up! I'm not so easily
deluded. Sit down, I command you.
Winny, show
the person into this room. I'll see her myself; and
that's more than she bargained for, I'll be sworn.
Finding it useless to struggle further, Mr. Wood
sank submissively into a chair, while his daughter
hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission.
At length I have my wish,” continued Mrs. Wood,
regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive
triumph. “I shall behold the shameless hussy face
to face; and, if I find her as good-looking as she's
represented, I don't know what I'll do in the end,
but'll begin by scratching her eyes out.”
In this temper, it will naturally be imagined that
Mrs. Wood's reception of the widow, who at that
moment was ushered into the room by Winifred, was
not particularly kind and encouraging. As she ap-
proached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to
foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or
apparel to quarrel with. But she was disappointed
Mrs. Sheppard's dress - extremely neat and clean
but simply fashioned, and of the plainest and most
»


194
JACK SHEPPARD
woman.
unpretending material-offered nothing assailable; and
her demeanour was so humble, and her looks so modest,
that-if she had been ill-looking-she might, possibly,
have escaped the shafts of malice preparing to be
levelled against her. But, alas ! she was beautiful-
and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous
As the lapse of time, and change of circumstances,
have wrought a remarkable alteration in the appear-
ance of the poor widow, it may not be improper to
notice it here. When first brought under considera-
tion she was a miserable and forlorn object, squalid in
attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. Now
she was the very reverse of all this. Her dress, it has
just been said, was neatness and simplicity itself. Her
figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health ; and
her complexion-still pale, but without its former sickly
cast-contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with
the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes
which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy,
had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened
lustre that replaced it. One marked difference between
the poor outcast, who, oppressed by poverty, and stung
by shame, had sought temporary relief in the stupefy-
ing draught—that worst “inedicine of a mind diseased”
-and those of the same being, freed from her vices,
and restored to comfort and contentment, if not to
happiness, by a more prosperous course of events, was
exhibited in the mouth. For the fresh and feverish
hue of lip which years ago characterised this feature
was now substituted a pure and wholesome bloom,
evincing a total change of habits; and, though the
coarse character of the mouth remained in some degree
unaltered, it was so modified in expression that it could
no longer be accounted a blemish. In fact, the whole
face had undergone a transformation. All its better
points were improved, while the less attractive ones


JACK SHEPPARD
195
(and they were few in comparison) were subdued or
removed. What was yet more worthy of note was
that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement
about it of which it was utterly destitute before, and
which seemed to intimate that her true position in
society was far above that wherein accident had placed
her.
“Well, Mrs. Sheppard," said the carpenter, advancing
to meet her, and trying to look as cheerful and com-
posed as he could, "what brings you to town, eh?
Nothing amiss, I trust ?”
Nothing whatever, sir," answered the widow. “A
neighbour offered me a drive to Paddington; and, as I
haven't heard of my son for some time, I couldn't
resist the temptation of stepping on to inquire after
him, and to thank you for your great goodness to us
both. I've brought a little garden-stuff and a few
new-laid eggs for you, ma'am,” she added, turning to
Mrs. Wood, who appeared to be collecting her energies
for a terrible explosion, "in the hope that they may
prove acceptable. Here's a nosegay for you, my love,”
she continued, opening her basket, and presenting a
fragrant bunch of flowers to Winifred, “if your mother
will allow me to give it to you.”.
“Don't touch it, Winny,” screamed Mrs. Wood ; "it
may be poisoned.”
“I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smell-
ing at the bouquet. “ How sweet these roses are !
Shall I put them into water ? ”
“Put them where they came from,” replied Mrs.
Wood severely, “and go to bed.”
But, mother, mayn't I sit up to see whether
Thames returns ?” implored Winifred.
“What can it matter to you whether he returns or
not, child ?” rejoined Mrs. Wood sharply. “I've spoken.
And my word's law—with you, at least,” she added,
bestowing a cutting glance upon her husband.


196
JACR SHEPPARD
are.
The little girl uttered no remonstrance, but, replacing
the flowers in the basket, burst into tears and withdrew.
Mrs. Sheppard, who witnessed this occurrence with
dismay, looked timorously at Wood, in expectation of
some hint being given as to the course she had better
pursue ; but, receiving none--for the carpenter was
too much agitated to attend to her—she ventured to
express a fear that she was intruding.
Intruding !" echoed Mrs. Wood; “to be sure you
I wonder how you dare show your face in this
house, hussy !”
“I thought you sent for me, ma'am,” replied the
widow humbly.
“So I did,” retorted Mrs. Wood; "and I did so to
see how far your effrontery would carry you."
“ I'm sure I'm very sorry. I hope I haven't given
any unintentional offence ?” said the widow, again
meekly appealing to Wood.
Don't exchange glances with him under my very
nose, woman,” shrieked Mrs. Wood; “I'll not bear it.
Look at me, and answer me one question. And
mind ! no prevaricating—nothing but the truth will
satisfy me.
Mrs. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon
her interrogator.
“Are you not that man's mistress ?" demanded Mrs.
Wood, with a look meant to reduce her supposed rival
to the dust.
“I am no man's mistress," answered the widow,
crimsoning to her temples, but preserving her meek
deportment and humble tone.
* That's false !” cried Mrs. Wood. “ I'm too well
acquainted with your proceedings, madam, to believe
that. Profligate women are never reclaimed. He has
told me sufficient of you-
'My dear," interposed Wood, "for goodness
sake-
..


JACK SHEPPARD
197
>>
"I will speak,” screamed his wife, totally disre-
garding the interruption ; "I will tell this worthless
creature what I know about her and what I think
of her.”
“Not now, my love--not now,” entreated Wood.
“Yes, now," rejoined the infuriated dame; "perhaps
I may never have another opportunity. She has con-
trived to keep out of my sight up to this time, and
I've no doubt she'll keep out of it altogether for the
future.”
“That was my doing, dearest," urged the carpenter;
“I was afraid, if you saw her, that some such scene as
this might occur.”
"Hear me, madam, I beseech you," interposed Mrs.
Sheppard, “and if it please you to visit your indignation
on any one, let it be upon me, and not on your excellent
husband, whose only fault is in having bestowed his
charity upon so unworthy an object as myself.”
" Unworthy indeed," sneered Mrs. Wood.
“To him I owe everything," continued the widow;
“life itself—nay, more than life—for without his
assistance I should have perished, body and soul. He
has been a father to me and my child.”
“I never doubted the latter point, I assure yon,
madam," observed Mrs. Wood.
“You have said," pursued the widow, “that she
who has once erred is irreclaimable. Do not believe
it, madam. It is not so. The poor wretch, driven by
desperation to the commission of a crime which her
soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reforma-
tion than she is without the pale of mercy'. I have
suffered I have sinned-I have repented. And though
neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my
bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor
sorrow drown my shame; yet knowing that my peni-
tence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions
may be forgiven"
G*


198
JACK SHEPPARD
"Mighty fine !” ejaculated Mrs. Wood contemptu.
ously.
"You cannot understand me, madam; and it is well
you cannot.
Blest with a fond husband, surrounded
by every comfort, you have never been assailed by the
horrible temptations to which misery has exposed me.
You have never known what it is to want food,
raiment, shelter.
You have never
seen the child
within your arms perishing from hunger, and no relief
to be obtained. You have never felt the hearts all
hardened against you; have never heard the jeer or
curse from every lip; nor endured the insult and the
blow from every hand. I have suffered all this.
I could resist the tempter now. I am strong in
health-in mind. But then-Oh! madam, there are
moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a
whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless
wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-
nigh benighted; when the borrible promptings of
despair can alone be listened to; and when vice itself
assumes the aspect of virtue. Pardon what I have
said, madam. I do not desire to extenuate my guilt-
far less to defend it; but I would show you, and such
as you-who, happily, are exempted from trials like
mine-how much misery has to do with crime. And
I affirm to you, on my own conviction, that she who
falls, because she has not strength granted her to
struggle with affliction, may be reclaimed-may repent,
and be forgiven-even as she whose sins, though
many, were forgiven her.'”
“It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan,” said
Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes
filled
with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have
done for you."
“If professions of repentance constitute a Magdalene,
Mrs. Sheppard is one, no doubt,” observed Mrs. Wood
ironically; "but I used to think it required something


JACK SHEPPARD
199
more than mere words to prove that a person's char-
acter was abused
“Very right, my love," said Wood;"very sensibly re-
marked. So it does. But I can speak to that point. Mro.
Sheppard's conduct, from my own personal knowledge,
has been unexceptionable for the last twelve years.
During that period she has been a model of propriety !”
“Oh! of course," rejoined Mrs. Wood ; "I can't for
an instant question such disinterested testimony. Mrs.
Sheppard, I'm sure, will say as much for you. He's a
model of conjugal attachment and fidelity, a pattern to
his family, and an example to his neighbours. Ain't
he, madam?”
"He is, indeed,” replied the widow fervently; "more
- much more than that.”
“He's no such thing," cried Mrs. Wood furiously.
“He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed liber-
tine—that's what he is. But I'll expose him. I'll
proclaim his misdoings to the world, and then we
shall see where he'll stand. Marry, come up! I'll
show him what an injured wife can do. If all wives
were of my mind and my spirit, husbands would soon
be taught their own insignificance. But a time will
come (and that before long) when our sex will assert
its superiority; and, when we have got the upper
hand, let 'em try to subdue us if they can. But don't
suppose, madam, that anything I say has reference to
you. I'm speaking of virtuous women — of WIVES,
madam. Mistresses neither deserve consideration nor
commiseration.”
“I expect no commiseration,” returned Mrs. Sheppard
gently, nor do I need any. But, rather than be the
cause of any further misunderstanding between you
and my benefactor, I will leave London and its neigh-
bourhood for ever.
“Pray do so, madam,” retorted Mrs. Wood, "and
take your son with you
#


200
JACK SHEPPARD
me.
But a
“My son!” echoed the widow, trembling.
“Yes, your son, madam. If you can do any good
with him, it's more than we can. The house will be
well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing repro-
bate never crossed its threshold.'
“Is this true, sir ?" cried Mrs. Sheppard, with an
agonised look at Wood. “I know you'll not deceive
Is Jack what Mrs. Wood represents him ?”
“He is not exactly what I could desire him to be,
Joan," replied the carpenter reluctantly.
ragged colt sometimes makes the best horse. He'll
mend, I hope."
Never," said Mrs. Wood—“he'll never mend. He
has taken more than one step towards the gallows
already. Thieves and pickpockets are his constant
companions."
“Thieves!"exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard, horror-stricken.
"Jonathan Wild and Blueskin have got him in their
hands," continued Mrs. Wood.
“Impossible !” exclaimed the widow wildly.
“If you doubt my word, woman," replied the
carpenter's wife coldly, “ask Mr. Wood.”
"I know you'll contradict it, sir," said the widow,
looking at Wood, as if she dreaded to have her fears
confirmed—“I know
you
will.”
“I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter sadly.
Mrs. Sheppard let fall her basket.
“My son!” she murmured, wringing her hands
piteously—“my son the companion of thieves ! My
son in Jonathan Wild's power! it cannot be.”
“Why not?" rejoined Mrs. Wood in a taunting tone.
“Your son's father was a thief; and Jonathan Wild
(unless I'm misinformed) was his friend--so it's not
unnatural he should show some partiality towards Jack.”
“ Jonathan Wild was my husband's bitterest enemy,
said Mrs. Sheppard. “ He first seduced him from the
patbe-of honesty, and then betrayed him to a shameful


JACK SHEPl’ARD
201
death; and he has sworn to do the same thing by my
son. Oh, heavens! that I should have ever indulged a
hope of happiness while that terrible man lives ! ”
Compose yourself, Joan,” said Wood; "all will
yet be well.”
Oh, no—no," replied Mrs. Sheppard' distractedly.
“All cannot be well, if this is true. Tell me, sir,” she
added, with forced calmness, and grasping Wood's
arm, “ what has Jack done? Tell me, in a word, that
I may know the worst.
I can bear anything but
suspense.”
"You're agitating yourself unnecessarily, Joan,"
returned Wood in a soothing voice. “ Jack has been
keeping bad company. That's the only fault I
know of.
“Thank God for that!" ejaculated Mrs. Sheppard
fervently. " Then it is not too late to save him. Where
is he, sir? Can I see him?"
“No, that you can't," answered Mrs. Wood : “he
has gone out without leave, and has taken Thames
Darrell with him. If I were Mr. Wood, when he does
return, I'd send him about his business. I wouldn't
keep an apprentice to set my authority at defiance.”
Mr. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short
by a loud knocking at the door.
“Odd's my life what's that?” he cried, greatly
alarmed.
“It's Jonathan Wild come back with a troop of
constables at his heels to search the house," rejoined
Mrs. Wood in equal trepidation. “We shall all be
murdered. Oh! that Mr. Kneebone was here to
protect me!”
“If it is Jonathan," rejoined Wood, "it is very well
for Mr. Kneebone he's not here. He'd have enough to
do to protect himself, without attending to you. I
declare I'm almost afraid to go to the door. Some
thing, I'm convinced, has happened to the boys.”


202
JACK SHEPPARD
“Has Jonathan Wild been here to-day?" asked
Mrs. Sheppard anxiously.
“To be sure he has," returned Mrs. Wood; "and
Blueskin, too. They're only just gone. Mercy on us !
what a clatter,” she added, as the knocking was re.
peated more violently than before.
While the carpenter irresolutely quitted the room,
with a strong presentiment of ill upon his mind, a
light quick step was heard descending the stairs, and,
before he could call out to prevent it, a man was
admitted into the passage.
“Is this Misther Wudd's, my pretty miss ?” de.
manded the rough voice of the Irish watchman.
“It is,” replied Winifred; "have you brought any
tidings of Thames Darrell ?”
“ Troth have I!” replied Terence; “but, bless your
angelic face, how did you contrive to guess that?''
“Is he well ?—is he safe?—is he coming back?”.
cried the little girl, disregarding the question.
“He's in Saint Giles's Roundhouse," answered
Terence; “but tell Mr. Wudd I'm here, and have
brought him a message from his unlawful son, and
don't be detainin' me, my darlin', for there's not a
minute to lose if the poor lad's to be rescued from the
clutches of that thief and thief-taker o' the world,
Jonathan Wild.”
The carpenter, upon whom no part of this hurried
dialogue had been lost, now made bis appearance, and
having obtained from Terence all the information
which that personage could impart respecting the
perilous situation of Thames, he declared himself ready
to start for Saint Giles's at once, and ran back to the
room for his hat and stick; expressing his firm deter-
mination, as he pocketed his constable's staff, with
which he thought it expedient to arm himself, of being
direfully revenged upon the thief-taker ; a determina-
tion in which he was strongly encouraged by his wife.


JACK SHEPPARD
203
Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not
remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the
benefit of Mrs. Sheppard. The poor widow was thrown
into an agony of distress on learning that a robbery
had been committed, in which her son (for she could
not doubt that Jack was one of the boys) was impli-
cated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. Wood,
who maintained stoutly that if Thames had been led
to do wrong, it must be through the instrumentality
of his worthless companion.
“And there you're right, you may depind, marm,"
observed Terence. “Master Thames Ditt—what's his
blessed name ?—has honesty written in his handsome
phiz; but as to his companion, Jack Sheppard, I think
you call him, he's a born and bred thief. Lord bless
you, marm! we sees plenty on 'em in our purfession.
Them young prigs is all alike. I seed he was one-
and a sharp one, too—at a glance.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the widow, covering her face
with her hands.
“Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman,"
said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting
it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed
of it. “Won't you be persuaded, Joan ?” he added,
making a similar offer to Mrs. Sheppard, which she
gratefully declined.
“If you mean to accompany us,
you may need it."
“ You are very kind, sir," returned the widow, “but
I require no support. Nothing stronger than water
has passed my lips for years."
“We may believe as much of that as we please, I
suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, witih a sneer.
“Mr. Wood," she continued, in an authoritative tone,
seeing her husband ready to depart, one word before
you set out. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever
enter this house again, I leave it, that's all. Now, do
what you please. You know my fixed determination.


204
JACK SHEPPARI
Mr. Wood made no reply; but hastily kissing his
weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer,
hurried off. He was followed with equal celerity by
Terence and the widow. Traversing what remained
of Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along
Drury Lane, the trio soon found themselves in Kendrick
Yard. When they came to the roundhouse, Terry's
courage failed him. Such was the terror inspired by
Wild's vindictive character, that few durst face him
who had given him cause for displeasure. Aware that
he should incur the thief-taker's bitterest animosity by
what he had done, the watchman, whose wrath against
Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk, thought
it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master
till the storm had in some measure blown over. Accord.
ingly, having given Wood such directions as he thought
necessary for his guidance, and received a handsome
gratuity in return for his services, he departed.
It was not without considerable demur and delay on
the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his com-
panion could gain admittance to the roundhouse.
Reconnoitring them through a small grated loophole,
he refused to open the door till they had explained
their business. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's
caution, was most unwilling to do; but, finding he had
no alternative, he reluctantly made known his errand,
and the bolts were undrawn. Once in, the constable's
manner appeared totally changed. He was now as
civil as he had just been insolent. Apologising for
their detention, he answered the questions put to him
respecting the boys, by positively denying that any
such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but
offered to conduct him to every cell in the building
to
prove
the truth of his assertion." He then barred
and double-locked the door, took out the key (a pre-
cautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said
he never omitted), thrust it into his vest, and motion-


JACK SHEPPARD
205
ing the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner
room. As Wood obeyed, his foot slipped ; and, casting
his eyes upon the floor, he perceived it splashed in
several places with blood. From the freshness of the
stains which grew more frequent as they approached
the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence
had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own
blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill
of horror, that perhaps on this very spot, not many
minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have
been inhumanly butchered. Nor was this impression
removed as he stole a glance at Mrs. Sheppard, and
saw from her terrified look that she had made the same
alarming discovery as himself. But it was now too
late to turn back, and, nerving himself for the shock
he expected to encounter, he ventured after his con-
ductor. No sooner had they entered the room than
Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated,
closed the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly
at the success of his stratagem. Vexation at his folly
in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood
for a short time silent. When he could find words, he
tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon
the constable to let him out. But threats and entreaties
-even promises—were ineffectual; and the unlucky
captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was
compelled to give up the point.
The room in which he was detained—that lately
occupied by the Mohocks, who, it appeared, had been
allowed to depart, was calculated to inspire additional
apprehension and disgust. Strongly impregnated with
the mingled odours of tobacco, ale, brandy, and other
liquors, the atmosphere was almost stifling. The
benches running round the room, though fastened to
the walls by iron clamps, had been forcibly wrenched
off; while the table, which was similarly secured to
the boarde, was upset, and its contents-bottles, jugs,


206
JACK SHEPPARD
This was
glasses, and bowls--were broken and scattered about in
all directions. Everything proclaimed the mischievous
propensities of the recent occupants of the chamber.
Here lay a heap of knockers of all sizes, from the
huge lion's head to the small brass rapper : there a
collection of sign-boards, with the names and calling
of the owners utterly obliterated. On this side stood
the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry
had been effected—namely, a bucket filled with paint,
and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting
of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown
knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a
campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steenkirk
and ruffles, some half-dozen staves, and a broken word.
As the carpenter's gaze wandered over this scene of
devastation, his attention was drawn by Mrs. Sheppard
towards an appalling object in one corner.
the body of a man, apparently lifeless, and stretched
upon a mattress, with his head bound up in a linen
cloth; through which the blood had oozed. Near the
body, which, it will be surmised, was that of Abraham
Mendez, two ruffianly personages were seated, quietly
smoking, and bestowing no sort of attention upon the
new-comers. Their conversation was conducted in the
flash language, and though unintelligible to Wood, was
easily comprehended by his companion, who learnt, to
her dismay, that the wounded man had received his
burt from her son, whose courage and dexterity formed
the present subject of their discourse. From other
obscure bipts dropped by the speakers, Mrs. Sheppard
ascertained that Thames Darrell bad been carried off-
where she could not make out—by Jonathan Wild and
Quilt Arnold, and that Jack had been induced to
accompany Blueskin to the Mint. This intelligence,
which she instantly communicated to the carpenter,
drove him almost frantic. He renewed his supplica-
tions to Sharples, but with no better success than


JACK SHEPPARD
207
heretofore ; and the greater part of the night was
passed by bim and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if
possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state
imaginable
At length, about three o'clock, as the first glimmer
of dawn became visible through the barred casements
of the roundhouse, the rattling of bolts and chains
at the outer door told that some one was admitted.
Whoever this might be, the visit seemed to have some
reference to the carpenter, for, shortly afterwards,
Sharples made his appearance, and informed the
captives they were free. Without waiting to have the
information repeated, Wood rushed forth, determined,
as soon as he could procure assistance, to proceed to
Jonathan Wild's house in the Old Bailey; while Mrs.
Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another
direction, hurried off to the Mint
XIV
The Flash Kon.
In an incredibly short space of time—for her anxiety
lent wings to her feet-Mrs. Sheppard reached the
debtors' garrison. From a scout stationed at the
northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon
of the place, with which long usage had formerly
rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin,
accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the de-
scription must be her son, had arrived there about
three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross
Shovels. This was enough for the poor widow. She
felt she was now near her boy, and nothing doubting
her ability to rescue him from his perilous situation,
she breathed a fervent prayer for his deliverance; and,


208
JACK SHEPPARD
bending her steps towards the tavern in question,
resolved within her mind, as she walked along, the
best means of accomplishing her purpose. Aware of
the cunning and desperate characters of the persons
with whom she would have to deal-aware, also, that
she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed
to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute
necessity of caution. Accordingly, when she arrived
at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her
bygone days of wretchedness, she was well acquainted,
instead of entering the principal apartment, which she
saw at a glance was crowded with company of both
sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the
bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for somo-
thing to drink.
The drawers at the moment were too
busy to attend to her, and she would have seized the
apportunity of examining, unperceived, the assemblage
within, through a little curtained window that over-
looked the adjoining chamber, if an impediment had
not existed in the shape of Baptist Kettleby, whose
portly person entirely obscured the view. The Master
of the Mint, in the exercise of his twofold office of
governor and publican, was mounted upon a chair, and
holding forth to his guests in a speech to which Mrs.
Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen.
“Gentlemen of the Mint," said the orator, “when I
was first called, some fifty years ago, to the important
office I hold, there existed across the water three places
of refuge for the oppressed and persecuted debtor."
“We know it,” cried several voices.
"It happened, gentlemen," pursued the Master, "on
a particular occasion, about the time I've mentioned,
that the Archduke of Alsatia, the Sovereign of the
Savoy, and the Satrap of Salisbury Court, met by
accident at the Cross Shovels. A jolly night we made
of it, as you may suppose ; for four such monarchs
don't often come together. Well, while we were


JACK SHEPPARD
209
us,' says
he;
6
smoking our pipes, and quaffing our punch, Alsatia
turns to me and says, 'Mint,' says he, 'you're well off
here.'-'Pretty well,' says I; 'you're not badly off at
the Friars, for that matter.'-Oh! yes, we are,' says
he.—How so?' says I.-It's all up
with
'they've taken away our charter.'-They can't,' says
I.-. They have,' says he.-—They can't, I tell you,'
says I, in a bit of a passion ; 'it's unconstitutional.' —
Unconstitutional or not,' says Salisbury Court and
Savoy speaking together, 'it's true. We shall become
a prey to the Philistines, and must turn honest in self-
defence.'-'No fear o' that,' thought I.-'I see how
it'll be,' observed Alsatia ; 'everybody'll pay his debts,
and only think of such a state of things as that.'-'It's
not to be thought of,' says I, thumping the table till
every glass on it jingled, and I know a way as'll
prevent it.'-'What is it, Mint?' asked all three.-
Why, hang every bailiff that sets a foot in your terri-
tories, and you're safe,' says I.—'We'll do it,' said
they, filling their glasses, and looking as fierce as King
George's grenadier guards ; "here's your health, Mint.
But, gentlemen, though they talked so largely, and
looked so fiercely, they did not do it; they did not
hang the bailiffs ! and where are they?”
Ay, where are they?" echoed the company, with
indignant derision.
“ Gentlemen,” returned the Master solemnly, “it is
a question easily answered—they are NOWHERE! Had
they hanged the bailiffs, the bailiffs would not have
hanged them. We ourselves have been similarly
circumstanced. Attacked by an infamous and un
constitutional statute passed in the reign of the late
usurper, William of Orange (for I may remark that, if
the right king had been upon the throne, that illegal
enactment would never have received the royal assent,
the Stuarts—Heaven preserve 'em !-always siding
with the debtors): attacked in this outrageous mander


!10
JACK SHEPPARD
I repeat, it has been all but 'up' with us! But the
vigorous resistance offered on that memorable occasion
by the patriotic inhabitants of Bermuda to the aggres-
sions of arbitrary power, secured and established their
privileges on a firmer basis than heretofore ; and, while
their pusillanimous allies were crushed and annihilated,
they became more prosperous than ever. Gentlemen,
I am proud to say that I originated that I directed
those measures. I hope to see the day, when not
Southwark alone, but London itself, shall become one
Mint when all men shall be debtors, and none
creditors—when imprisonment for debt shall be utterly
abolished—when highway robbery shall be accounted
a pleasant pastime, and forgery an accomplishment-
when Tyburn and its gibbets shall be overthrown-
capital punishments discontinued-Newgate, Ludgate,
the Gatehouse, and the Compiters razed to the ground
- Bridewell and Clerkenwell destroyed – the Fleet, the
King's Bench, and the Marshalseа remembered only by
name? But, in the meantime, as that day may possibly
be farther off than I anticipate, we are bound to make
the most of the present.
Take care of yourselves,
gentlemen, and your governor will take care of you.
Before I sit down, I have a toast to propose, which I
am sure will be received, as it deserves to be, with
enthusiasm. It is the health of a stranger—of Mr. John
Sheppard. His father was one of my old customers,
and I am happy to find his son treading in his steps.
He couldn't be in better hands than those in which he
has placed himself. Gentlemen-Mr. Sheppard's good
health, and success to him!”
Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and,
as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a
universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view
was no longer obstructed. Her eye wandered quickly
over that riotous and disorderly assemblage, until it
settled upon one group more riotous and disorderly


JACK SHEPPARD
211
than the rest, of which her son formed the principal
figure. The agonised mother could scarcely repress a
scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. There sat
Jack, evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with
his collar opened, his dress disarranged, a pipe in his
mouth, a bowl of punch, and a half-emptied rummer
before him—there he sat, receiving and returning, or
rather attempting to return--for he was almost past
consciousness—the blandishments of a couple of females,
one of whom had passed her arm round his neck, while
the other leaned over the back of his chair, and appeared
from her gestures to be whispering soft nonsense into
his ear.
Both these ladies possessed considerable personal
attractions. The younger of the two, who was seated
next to Jack, and seemed to monopolise his attention,
could not be more than seventeen, though her person
had all the maturity of twenty. She had delicate oval
features, light, laughing, blue eyes, a pretty nez retroussé
(why have we not the term, since we have the best
specimens of the feature ?), teeth of pearly whiteness,
and a brilliant complexion, set off by rich auburn hair,
a very white neck and shoulders—the latter perhaps a
trifle too much exposed. The name of this damsel was
Edgeworth Bess; and, as her fascinations will not
perhaps, be found to be without some influence upon
the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have
thought it worth while to be thus particular in de-
scribing them. The other bona roba, known amongst
her companions as Mistress Poll Maggot, was a beauty
on a much larger scale-in fact, a perfect Amazon.
Nevertheless, though nearly six feet high, and corre-
spondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry,
and boasted, with the frame of a Thaletris or a Trulla,
the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. A man's
laced hat-whether adopted from the caprice of the
moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state-.


2 1 2
JACK SHEPPARD
cocked knowingly on her head, harmonised with her
masculine appearance.
Mrs. Maggot, as well as her
companion, Edgeworth Bess, was showily dressed; nor
did either of them disdain the aid supposed to be lent
to a fair skin by the contents of the patchbox. On an
empty cask, which served him for a chair, and opposite
Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity
afforded him the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin,
encouraging the two women 10 their odious task, and
plying his victim with the glass as often as he deemed
it expedient to do so. By this time he had apparently
accomplished all be desired; for, moving the bottle out
of Jack's reach, he appropriated it entirely to his own
use, leaving the devoted lad to the care of the females.
Some few of the individuals seated at the other tables
seemed to take an interest in the proceedings of Blue-
skin and his party, just as a bystander watches any
other game ; but, generally speaking, the company
were too much occupied with their own concerns to
pay attention to anything else. The assemblage was
for the most part, if not altogether, composed of persons
to whom vice in all its aspects was too familiar to
present much of novelty, in whatever form it was
exhibited. Nor was Jack by any means the only
stripling in the room. Not far from him was a knot
of lads drinking, swearing, and playing at dice as
eagerly and as skilfully as any of the older hands.
Near to these hopeful youths sat a fence, or receiver,
bargaining with a clouter or pickpocket, for a suit-
or, to speak in more intelligible language, a watch and
seals, two cloaks, commonly called watchcases, and a
wedgelobb, otherwise known as a silver spuff-box. Next
to the receiver was a gang of housebreakers, laughing
over their exploits, and planning fresh depredations ;
and next to the housebreakers came two gallant-looking
gentlemen in long periwigs and riding-dresses, and
equipped in all other respects for the road, with a roast


JACK SHEPPAR)
213
fowl and a bottle of wine before them. Amid this
varied throng—varied in appearance, but alike in
character-one object alone, we have said, riveted
Mrs. Sheppard's attention, and no sooner did she in
some degree recover from the shock occasioned by the
sight of her son's debased condition, than, regardless
of any other consideration except his instant removal
from the contaminating society by which he was
surrounded, and utterly forgetting the more cautious
plan she meant to have adopted, she rushed into the
room, and summoned him to follow her.
“ Holloa !" cried Jack, looking round, and trying
to fix his inebriate gaze upon the speaker—".
" who's
that?”
“ Your mother,” replied Mrs. Sheppard.
“ Come
home directly, sir."
“ Mother be!" returned Jack. “ Who is it,
Bess ?”
“How should I know?” replied Edgeworth Bess.
“But if it is your mother, send her about her
business.”
“ That I will,” replied Jack, “in the twinkling of a
bed-post."
“Glad to see you once more in the Mint, Mrs.
Sheppard,” roared Blueskin, who anticipated some fun.
“Come and sit down by me.”
“Take a glass of gin, ma'am," cried Poll Maggot,
holding up a bottle of spirit; "it used to be your
favourite liquor, I've heard."
“Jack, my love," cried Mrs. Sheppard, disregarding
the taunt, come away."
“Not I,” replied Jack; “I am too comfortable
where I am.
Be off!”
"Jack !” exclaimed his unhappy parent.
“Mr. Sheppard, if you please, ma'am,” interrupted
the lad; “I allow nobody to call me Jack. Do I,
Bess, eh?”


21/
JACK SHEPPARD
“Nobody whatever, love," replied Edgeworth Bess;
“nobody but me, dear."
“And me,” insinuated Mrs. Maggot. “My little
fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess.
Ain't you, Jacky, darling ?”
“Not quite, Poll,” returned Mr. Sheppard ; "but I
love you next to her, and both of you better than her,"
pointing with the pipe to his mother.
“Oh, Heavens !” cried Mrs. Sheppard.
“ Bravo !” shouted Blueskin. "Tom Sheppard
never said a better thing than that-ho! ho !”
"Jack," cried his mother, wringing her hands in
distraction, "you'll break my heart !"
“ Pooh! pooh!" returned he son ;
women don't
so easily break their hearts. Do they, Bess ?”
“Certainly not,” replied the young lady appealed to;
"especially about their sons.”
"Wretch!” cried Mrs. Sheppard bitterly.
“I say,” retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very un-
feminine imprecation, “I shan't stand any more of
that nonsense. What do you mean by calling me
wretch, madam ?” she added, marching up to Mrs.
Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and
threatening glance.
“Yes—what do you mean, ma'am ?” added Jack,
staggering after her.
“Come with me, my love, come—come,” cried his
mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force
him away.
“He shan't go," cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him
by the other hand. “Here, Poll, help me.
Thus exhorted, Mrs. Maggot lent her powerful aid,
and between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from
all fears of being carried off against his will. Not
content with this exhibition of her prowess, the
Amazon lifted him up as easily as if he had been an
infant, and placed him upon her shoulders, to the


JACK SHEPPARL
215
66
Infinite delight of the company, and the increased
distress of his mother.
“Now, let's see who'll dare to take him down," she
cried.
Nobody shall,” cried Mr. Sheppard from his ele-
vated position. “I'm my own master now, and I'll
do as I please. I'll turn cracksman, like my father-
rob old Wood-he has chests full of money, and I
know where they're kept—I'll rob him, and give the
swag to you, Poll—I'll
Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance,
he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was
perfectly insensible.
In this state, he was laid upon a
bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched
mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and
resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected
from the house, and driven out of the Mint.
XV
The Robbery in Willesåen Church.
DURING the whole of the next day and night, the pool
widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the
debtors' garrison — for admission (by the Master's
express orders) was denied her. She could learn
nothing of her son, and only obtained one solitary
piece of information which added to, rather than
alleviated, her misery_namely, that Jonathan Wild
had paid a secret visit to the Cross Shovels.
time, she determined to go to Wych Street, and ask
Mr. Wood's advice and assistance, but the thought
of the reception she was likely to meet with from
his wife, deterred her from executing this resolution.
Many other expedients occurred to her ; but, after
At one


216
JACK SHEPPARD
making several ineffectual attempts to get into the
Mint unobserved, they were all abandoned.
At length, about an hour before dawn on the second
day-Sunday-having spent the early part of the night
in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and
being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out
homewards. It was a long walk she had to undertake,
even if she had endured no previous fatigue; but,
feeble as she was, it was almost more than she could
accomplish. Daybreak found her wending her painful
way along the Harrow Road; and, in order to shorten
the distance as much as possible, she took the nearest
cut, and struck into the meadows on the right. Cross-
ing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of
tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at
the summit of a hill. Here her strength completely
failed her, and she was compelled to seek some repose.
Making her couch upon a heap of hay, she sank at
once into a deep and refreshing slumber.
When she awoke, the sun was high in heaven. It
was a bright and beautiful day: so bright, so beautiful,
that even her sad heart was cheered by it.
The air,
perfumed with the delicious fragrance of the new-mown
grass, was vocal with the melodies of the birds ; the
thick foliage of the trees was glistening in the sun-
shine; all nature seemed happy and rejoicing; but,
above all, the serene Sabbath stillness reigning around,
communicated a calm to her wounded spirit.
What a contrast did the lovely scene she now gazed
upon present to the squalid neighbourhood she had
recently quitted ! On all sides, the expanded pros-
pects of country, the most exquisite and most varied.
Immediately beneath her lay Willesden—the most
charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood
of the metropolis—with its scattered farmhouses, its
noble granges, and its old grey church tower just peep-
ing above a grove of rook-haunted trees.


JACK SHEPPARD
217
Towards this spot Mrs. Sheppard now directed her
steps. She speedily reached her own abode-a little
cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. The
first circumstance that struck her on her arrival seemed
ominous. Her clock had stopped-stopped at the very
hour on which she had quitted the Mint! She had
not the heart to wind it up again.
After partaking of some little refreshment, and
changing her attire, Mrs. Sheppard prepared for
church. By this time, she had so far succeeded in
calming herself, that she answered the greetings of
the neighbours whom she encountered on her way to
the sacred edifice—if sorrowfully, still composedly.
Every old country church is beautiful, but Willesden
is the most beautiful country church we know; and in
Mrs. Sheppard's time it was even more beautiful than
at present, when the hand of improvement has pro-
ceeded a little too rashly with alterations and repairs.
With one or two exceptions, there were no pews; and,
as the intercourse with London was then but slight,
the seats were occupied almost exclusively by the
villagers. In one of these seats, at the end of the aisle
farthest removed from the chancel, the widow took her
place, and addressed herself ferveintly to her devotions.
The service had not proceeded far, when she was
greatly disturbed by the entrance of a person who
placed himself opposite her, and sought to attract her
attention by a number of little arts, surveying her, as
he did so, with a very impudent and offensive stare.
With this person, who was no other than Mr. Knee-
bone, she was too well acquainted, having more than
once been obliged to repel his advances; and, though
his impertinence would have given her little concern at
another season, it now added considerably to her distrac-
tion. But a far greater affliction was in store for her.
Just as the clergyman approached the altar, she
perceived a boy steal quickly into the church, and


218
JACK SHEPPARD
ensconce himself behind the woollen-draper, who, in
order to carry on his amatory pursuits with greater
convenience, and at the same time display his figure
(of which he was not a little vain) to the utmost ad-
vantage, preferred a standing to a sitting posture. Of
this boy she had only caught a glimpse ;-but that
glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son-
and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive
love, she could not question her antipathy, when she
beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the
rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent
features of Jonathan Wild. As she looked in this direc-
tion, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those grey, blood-
thirsty eyes! their glare froze the life-blood in her veins.
As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her.
Why was he there? why did the tempter dare to
invade that sacred spot? She could not answer her own
questions, but vague fearful suspicions passed through
her mind. Meanwhile, the service proceeded; and the
awful command, “Thou shalt not steal !” was solemnly
uttered by the preacher, when Mrs. Sheppard, who had
again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance
along the side of the woollen-draper. She could not see
what occurred, though she guessed it; but she saw Jona-
than's devilish triumphant glance, and read in it—"Your
son has committed a robbery-here-in these holy walls
he is mine—mine for ever!” She uttered a loud
scream, and fainted.
XVI
Jonathan Wild's House in the Old Bailey.
Just as St. Sepulchre's Church struck one, on the
eventful night of the 10th of June (to which it will
not be necessary to recur), a horseman, mounted on a


JACK SHEPPARD
219
powerful charger, and followed at a respectful distance
by an attendant, galloped into the open space fronting
Newgate, and directed his course towards a house in
the Old Bailey. Before he could draw in the rein,
his steedstartled apparently by some object undis-
tinguishable by his rider-swerved with such suddenness
as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground.
The next moment, however, he was picked up, and set
upon his feet by a person who, having witnessed the
accident, flew across the road to his assistance.
“You're not hurt, I hope, Sir Rowland ?” inquired
this individual.
“Not materially, Mr. Wild,” replied the other ; "a
little shaken, that's all. Curses light on the horse !
he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued
snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence
of some unaccountable alarm; " what can ail him ?”
“ I know what ails him, your honour,” rejoined the
groom, riding up as he spoke, “he's seen somethin' not
o'this world.”
“Most likely,” observed Jonathan, with a slight
sneer; “the ghost of some highwayman who has just
breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt."
May be,” returned the man gravely.
"Take him home, Saunders," said Sir Rowland,
resigning his faulty steed to the attendant's care ;
“I
shall not require you further. Strange !” he added,
as the groom departed; “ Bay Stuart has carried me
through a hundred dangers, but never played me such
a trick before.”
“And never should again, were he mine,” rejoined
Jonathan. “ If the best nag ever foaled were to throw
me in this unlucky spot, I'd blow his brains out.”
“What do you mean, sir ?” asked Trenchard.
"A fall against Newgate is accounted a sign of
death by the halter," replied Wild, with ill-disguised
malignity.
66


JACK SHEPPARD
221
“What is this to me, sir ?” said Trenchard, cutting
him short.
“Nothing whatever,” rejoined the thief-taker coldly.
" But it is much to me. Jack Sheppard is to me what
Thames Darrell is to you-an object of hatred. I owed
his father a grudge: that I settled long ago. I owe
his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest,
to her son. I could make away with him at once, as
you are about to make away with your nephew, Sir
Rowland-but that wouldn't serve my turn. To be
complete, my vengeance must be tardy. Certain of
my prey, I can afford to wait for it.
Besides, revenge
18 sweetened by delay; and I indulge too freely in the
passion to rob it of any of its zest; I've watched this
lad--this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have
apparently concerned myself but little about him, I
bave never lost sight of my purpose. I have suffered
him to be brought up decently-honestly ; because I
would make his fall the greater, and deepen the wound
I meant to inflict upon his mother. From this night
I shall pursue a different course; from this night his
ruin may be dated. He is in the care of those who
will not leave the task assigned to them—the utter
perversion of his principles-half-finished. And when
I have steeped him to the lips in vice and de-
pravity; when I have led him to the commission of
every crime; when there is neither retreat nor ad-
vance for him; when he has plundered his benefactor,
and broken the heart of his mother-then-but not
till then I will consign him to the fate to which I
consigned his father. This I have sworn to do—this I
will do."
“Not unless your skull’s bullet-proof,” cried a voice
at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol
was snapped at his head, which—fortunately or un-
fortunately, as the reader pleases
ler pleases - only burnt the
priming. The blaze, however, was sufficient to reveal
H


222
JACK SHEPPARD
to the thief-taker the features of his intended assassin.
They were those of the Irish watchman.
“Ah! Terry O'Flaherty !” vociferated Jonathan, in
a tone that betrayed not the slightest discomposure.
“Ah! Terry O'Flaherty !" he cried, shouting after the
Irishman, who took to his heels as soon as he found
his murderous attempt unsuccessful ; "you may run,
but you'll not get out of my reach. I'll put a brace of
dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. You
shall swing for this after next sessions, or my name's
not Jonathan Wild. I told you, Sir Rowland,” he
added, turning to the knight, and chuckling, “the devil
never deserts me."
“Conduct me to your dwelling, sir, without further
delay," said Trenchard sternly—“to the boy."
"The boy is not at my house," replied Wild.
“Where is he, then?" demanded the other hastily.
"At a place we call the Dark House, at Queenhithe,"
answered Jonathan, a sort of underground tavern or
night-cellar, close to the river-side, and frequented by
the crew of the Dutch skipper, to whose care he's to
be committed. You need have no apprehension about
bim, Sir Rowland. He's safe enough now. I left him
in charge of Quilt Arnold and Rykhart Van Galgebrok,
the skipper I spoke of, with strict orders to shoot him
if he made any further attempt to escape; and they're
not lads—the latter especially—to be trifled with. I
deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House
than to bring him here, in case of any search after him
by his adopted father, the carpenter Wood. If you
choose, you can see him put on board the Zeeslang
yourself, Sir Rowland. But perhaps you'll first accom-
pany me to my dwelling for a moment, that we may
arrange our accounts before we start. I've a few
necessary directions to leave with my people, to put
'em on their guard against the chance of a surprise.
Suffer me to precede you. This way, Sir Rowland.”


JACK SHEPPARD
223
The thief-taker's residence was a large dismal-looking
habitation, separated from the street by a flagged court-
yard, and defended from general approach by an iron
railing. Even in the daylight it had a sombre and
suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the
adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. In the
obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a
prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make
it resemble one as much as possible. The windows
were grated, the doors barred; each room had the name
as well as the appearance of a cell; and the very porter
who stood at the gate, habited like a gaoler, with his
huge bunch of keys at his girdle, his forbidding coun-
tenance and surly demeanour, seemed to be borrowed
from Newgate. The clanking of chains, the grating
of locks, and the rumbling of bolts, must have been
music in Jonathan's ears, so much pains did he take
to subject himself to such sounds. The scanty furniture
of the rooms corresponded with their dungeon-like
aspect. The walls were bare, and painted in stone-
colour; the floors devoid of carpet; the beds of hang-
ings; the windows of blinds; and, excepting the
thief-taker's own audience-chamber, there was not a
chair or a table about the premises, the place of these
conveniences being elsewhere supplied by benches and
deal-boards laid across joint-stools. Great stone stair-
cases, leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy
passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea
that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and,
though this was not the case in reality, the deception
was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of pro.
ducing the intended effect. Scarcely any one entered
Mr. Wild's dwelling without apprehension, or quitted
it without satisfaction. More strange stories were told
of it than of any other house in London. The garrets
were said to be tenanted by coiners and artists em-
ployed in altering watches and jewellery; the cellars


224
JACK SHEPPARD
over
to be used as a magazine for stolen goods. By somo
it was affirmed that a subterranean communication
existed between the thief-taker's abode and Newgate,
by means of which he was enabled to maintain a secret
correspondence with the imprisoned felons; by others,
that an underground passage led to extensive vaults,
where such malefactors as he chose to screen from
justice might lie concealed till the danger was blown
Nothing, in short, was too extravagant to be
related of it; and Jonathan, who delighted in investing
himself and his residence with mystery, encouraged,
and perhaps originated, these marvellous tales. How-
ever this may be, such was the ill report of the place,
that few passed along the Old Bailey without bestowing
a glance of fearful curiosity at its dingy walls, and
wondering what was going on inside them; while fewer
still, of those who paused at the door, read, without
some internal trepidation, the formidable name 6-in-
scribed in large letters on its bright brass-plate-of
JONATHAN WILD.
Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a
peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly
opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to.
No sooner had Trenchard crossed the threshold than
a fierce barking was heard at the farther extremity of
the passage, and the next moment a couple of mastiffs
of the largest size rushed furiously towards him. The
knight stood upon his defence; but he would unques-
tionably have been torn in pieces by the savage hounds,
if a shower of oaths, seconded by a vigorous application
of kicks and blows from their master, had not driven
them growling off. ~ Apologising to Sir Rowland for
this unpleasant reception, and swearing lustily at his
servant for occasioning it by leaving the dogs at liberty,
Jonathan ordered the man to light them to the audience-
coom. The command was sullenly obeyed, for the fellow
did not appear to relish the rating. Ascending the


JACK SHEPPARD
225
stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in
which Trencbard noticed that every door was painted
black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a
chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his
girdle, unlocked it. Following his guide, Sir Rowland
found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent
of which he could not entirely discern until lights were
set upon the table. Ho then looked around him with
some curiosity; and as the thief-taker was occupied
in giving directions to his attendant in an undertone,
ample leisure was allowed him for investigation. At
the first glance, he imagined he must have stumbled
apon a museum of rarities, there were so many glass
cases, so many open cabinets ranged against the walls ;
but the next convinced him that if Jonathan was a
virtuoso, his tastes did not run in the ordinary channels.
Trenchard was tempted to examine the contents of
some of these cases, but a closer inspection made him
recoil from them in disgust. In the one he approached
was gathered together a vast assortment of weapons,
each of which, as appeared from the ticket attached
to it, had been used as an instrument of destruction.
On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered
his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with
blood; on that a bar of iron, bent and partly broken,
with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains.
As it is not, however, our intention to furnish a com-
plete catalogue of these curiosities, we shall merely
mention that in front of them lay a large and sharp
knife, once the property of the public executioner, and
used by him to dissever the limbs of those condemned
to death for high treason; together with an immense
two-pronged flesh fork, likewise employed by the same
terrible functionary to plunge the quarters of his victims
in the caldrons of boiling tar and oil. Every gibbet
at Tyburn and Hounslow appeared to have been
plundered of its charnel spoil to enrich the adjoining


126
JACK SHEPPARD
cabinet, so well was it stored with skulls and bones,
all purporting to be the relics of highwaymen famous
in their day Halters, each of which had fulfilled its
destiny, formed the attraction of the next compartment;
while a fourth was occupied by an array of implements
of house breaking almost innumerable, and utterly in-
describable All these interesting objects were care-
fully arranged, classed, and, as we have said, labelled
by the thief.taker
From this singular collection Trenchard turned to
regard its possessor, who was standing at a little
distance from him, still engaged in earnest discourse
with his attendant, and as he contemplated his ruth-
less countenance, on which duplicity and malignity had
set their strongest seals, he could not help calling to
mind all he had heard of Jonathan's perfidiousness to
his employers, and deeply regretting that he had placed
himself in the power of so unscrupulous a miscreant.
Jonathan Wild, at this time, was on the high-road
to the greatness which he subsequently, and not long
afterwards, obtained. He was fast rising to an emi-
nence that no one of his nefarious profession ever
reached before him, nor, is it to be hoped, will ever
reach again. He was the Napoleon of knavery, and
established an uncontrolled empire over all the practi-
tioners of crime. This was no light conquest; nor was
it a government easily maintained. Resolution, severity,
subtlety, were required for it; and these were qualities
which Jonathan possessed in an extraordinary degree.
The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled
him. What his head conceived his hand executed.
Professing to stand between the robber and the
robbed, he himself plundered both. He it was who
formed the grand design of a robber corporation, of
which he should be the sole head and director, with
the right of delivering those who concealed their booty,
or refused to share it with him, to the gallows. He


JACK SHEPPARD
227
divided London into districts; appointed a gang to
each district; and a leader to each gang, whom he
held responsible to himself. The country was parti.
tioned in a similar manner. Those whom he retained
about his person, or placed in offices of trust, were for
the most part convicted felons, who, having returned
from transportation before their term had expired,
constituted, in his opinion, the safest agents, inas-
much as they could neither be legal evidences against
him, nor withhold any portion of the spoil of which
he chose to deprive them. But the crowning glory
of Jonathan, that which raised him above all his
predecessors in iniquity, and clothed his name with
undying notoriety, was to come—when, in the pleni-
tude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till
then unknown-namely, a traffic in human blood.
This he carried on by procuring witnesses to swear
away the lives of those persons who had incurred
his displeasure, or whom it might be necessary to
remove.
No wonder that Trenchard, as he gazed at this fear-
ful being, should have some misgivings cross him.
Apparently, Jonathan perceived he was an object
of scrutiny; for, hastily dismissing his attendant, he
walked towards the knight.
“So you're admiring my cabinet, Sir Rowland," he
remarked, with a sinister smile; "it is generally
admired; and sometimes by parties who afterwards
contribute to the collection themselves — ha! ha!
This skull," he added, pointing to a fragment of
mortality in the case beside them, onco belonged
to Tom Sheppard, the father of the lad I spoke of
just now. In the next box hangs the rope by which
he suffered. When I've placed another skull and
another halter beside them, I shall be contented.”
“To business, sir !” said the knight, with a look of
abhorrence.


228
JACK SHEPPARD
>>
“Ay, to business," returned Jonathan, grinning
“the sooner the better”
“Here is the sum you bargained for," rejoined
Trenchard, flinging a pocket-book on the table;
"count it.”
Jonathan's eyes glistened as he told over the notes.
“You've given me more than the amount, Sir
Rowland,” he said, after he had twice counted them,
or I have missed my reckoning There's a hundred
pounds too much."
"Keep it," said Trenchard haughtily.
"I'll place it to your account, Sir Rowland,"
answered the thief-taker, smiling significantly. "And,
now, shall we proceed to Queenhithe?”
"Stay!” cried the other, taking a chair, "a word
with you, Mr. Wild.”
“As many as you please, Sir Rowland,” replied
Jonathan, resuming his seat. “ I'm quite at your
disposal.”
"I have a question to propose to you," said Tren-
chard, “relating to " and he hesitated.
“Relating to the father of the boy-Thames Darrell,"
supplied Jonathan. “I guessed what was coming.
You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. Well,
you shall know."
“Without further fee?” inquired the knight.
“Not exactly," answered Jonathan dryly. “A
secret is too valuable a commodity to be thrown away.
But I said I wouldn't drive a bard bargain with you,
and I won't. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added,
snufting the candles, glancing cautiously around, and
lowering his tone, “and what you confide to me shall
never transpire—at least to your disadvantage."
“I am at a loss to understand you, sir,” said
Trenchard.
"I'll make myself intelligible before I've done,”
rejoined Wild. “I need not remind vou, Sir Rowland,


JACK SHEPPARD
229
that I am aware you are deeply implicated in the
Jacobite plot which is now known to be hatching.”
“Ha!” ejaculated the other.
"Of course, therefore,” pursued Jonathan, "you are
acquainted with all the leaders of the proposed insur-
rection--nay, must be in correspondence with them."
“What right bave you to suppose this, sir?” de-
manded Trenchard sternly.
“Have a moment's patience, Sir Rowland,” returned
Wild, “and you shall bear. If you will furnish me
with a list of these rebels, and with proofs of their
treason, I will not only insure your safety, but will
acquaint you with the real name and rank of your
sister Aliva's husband, as well as with some particu-
lars which will never otherwise reach your ears,
concerning your lost sister Constance."
“My sister Constance !” echoed the knight; “what
of her ?”
“You agree to my proposal, then ?” said Jonathan.
“Do you take me for as great a villain as yourself,
sir ?" said the knight, rising.
"I took you for one who wouldn't hesitate to avail
himself of any advantage chance might throw in his
way,” returned the thief-taker coldly. “I find I was
in error.
No matter. A time may come—and that
ere long-when you will be glad to purchase my
secrets and your own safety at a dearer price than the
heads of your companions."
"Are you ready?” said Trenchard, striding towards
the door.
“I am," replied Jonathan, following him, "and
So,” he added in an undertone, are your captors.”
A moment afterwards they quitted the house.
H.


230
JACK SHEPPARD
XVII
The Night-Cellar.
AFTER a few minutes' rapid walking, during which
neither party uttered a word, Jonathan Wild and his
companion had passed Saint Paul's, dived down a
thoroughfare on the right, and reached Thames Street,
At the period of this history, the maia streets of
the metropolis were but imperfectly lighted, while the
less frequented avenues were left in total obscurity;
but, even at the present time, the maze of courts and
alleys into which Wild now plunged would have per-
plexed any one, not familiar with their intricacies, to
thread them on a dark night. Jonathan, however,
was well acquainted with the road. Indeed, it was
his boast, that he could find his way through any part
of London blindfolded, and by this time, it would
seem he had nearly arrived at his destination; for,
grasping his companion's arm, he led him along a
narrow entry which did not appear to have an outlet,
and came to a halt. Cautioning the knight, if he
valued his neck, to tread carefully, Jonathan then de-
scended a steep flight of steps; and having reached
the bottom in safety, he pushed open a door, that
swung back on its hinges as soon as it had admitted
bim; and, followed by Trenchard, entered the night-
cellar.
The vault, in which Sir Rowland found himself,
resembled in some measure the cabin of a ship. It
was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge
uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a
tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it. Not-
withstanding the heat of the geason-
- which was
not, however, found particularly inconvenient in this


JACK SHEPPARD
231
subterranean region a large heaped-up fire blazed
ruddily in one corner, and lighted up a circle of as
villainous countenances as ever flame shone upon.
The guests congregated within the night-cellar were,
in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who
confined their depredations almost exclusively to the
vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. They
had as many designations as grades.
There were
game watermen and game lightermen, heavy horsemen
and light horsemen, scuffle-hunters, and long-apron
men, lumpers, journeymen coopers, mud-larks, badgers,
and rat-catchers—a race of dangerous vermin recently,
in a great measure, extirpated by the vigilance of the
Thames Police, but at this period flourishing in vast
numbers. Besides these plunderers, there were others
with whom the disposal of their pillage necessarily
brought them into contact, and who seldom failed to
attend them during their hours of relaxation and
festivity!- to wit, dealers in junk, old rags, and marine
stores, purchasers of prize-money, crimps, and Jew
receivers. The latter formed by far the most knavish-
looking and unprepossessing portion of the assemblage,
One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of
fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their
thumbs, and baskets by their sides ; and no one who
had listened for a single moment to their coarse lan-
guage and violent abuse of each other, would require
to be told they were fishwives from Billingsgate.
The present divinity of the cellar was a comely
middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-
voiced, as the Billingsgate fishwives above mentioned.
Mrs. Spurling, for so was she named, had a warm nut-
brown complexion, almost as dark as a Creole, and a
moustache on her upper lip, that would have done no
discredit to the eldest dragoon in the king's service.
This lady was singularly lucky in her matrimonial
connections. She had been married four times; three


232
JACK SHEPPARD
of her husbands died of hempen fevers; and the fourth,
having been twice condemned, was saved from the
noose by Jonathan Wild, who not only managed to
bring him off, but to obtain for him the situation of
ander-turnkey in Newgate
On the appearance of the thief-taker, Mrs Spurling
was standing near the fire, superintending some culinary
preparation; but she no sooner perceived him, than
hastily quitting her occupation, she elbowed a way for
him and the knight through the crowd, and ushered
them, with much ceremony, into an inner room, where
they found the objects of their search, Quilt Arnold
and Rykhart Van Galgebrok, seated at a small table,
quietly smoking This service rendered, without
waiting for any further order she withdrew Both the
janizary and the skipper arose as the others entered
the room.
“This is the gentleman,” observed Jonathan, intro-
ducing Trenchard to the Hollander, “who is about to
entrust his young relation to your care."
“De gentleman may rely on my showing his relation
all de attention in my power,” replied Van Galgebrok,
bowing profoundly to the knight; “but if any unfore-
seen accident—such as a slip overboard-should befall
de jonker ou de voyage, he mushn't lay de fault
entirely on my shoulders—haw! haw !”
“Where is he?" asked Sir Rowland, glancing un-
easily around. “I do not see him ?”
" De jonker? He's here," returned the skipper,
poipting significantly downwards. “Bring him out,
Quilt."
So saying, he pushed aside the table, and the jani-
zary, stooping down, undrew a bolt, and opened a
trap door.
"Come out!" roared Quilt, looking into the aperture.
"You're wanted.”
But as no answer was returned, he thrust his arm
-


JACK SHEPPARD
233
up to the shoulder into the hole, and, with some little
difficulty and exertion of strength, drew forth Thames
Darrell The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned
behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled nor
exhibited any other symptom of alarm.
“Why didn't you come out when I called you, you
young dog?” cried Quilt in a savage tone.
“Because I knew what you wanted me for,"answered
Thames firmly.
“Oh! you did, did you?” said the janizary. “And
what do you suppose we meant to do with you, eh?”
“You mean to kill me,” replied Thames, “ by my
cruel uncle's command. Ah! there he stands !” he
exclaimed, as his eye fell for the first time
upon
Sir
Rowland. “Where is my mother?” he added, re-
garding the knight with a searching glance.
“ Your mother is dead,” interposed Wild, scowling.
“ Dead !” echoed the boy. 'Oh, no-no! You
say this to terrify me to try me. But I will not
believe you. Inhuman as he is, he would not kill her.
Tell me, sir,” he added, advancing towards the knight,
“tell me this man has spoken falsely! Tell me my
mother is alive, and do what you please with me.”
“ Tell him so, and have done with him, Sir Rowland,”
observed Jonathan coldly.
“Tell me the truth, I implore you,” cried Thames.
“Is she alive?”
“She is not,” replied Trenchard, overcome by con-
flicting emotions, and unable to endure the boy's
agonised look.
“Are you answered ?” said Jonathan, with a grin
worthy of a demon.
“My mother!-my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames,
falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. “ Shall I
never see that sweet face again-never feel the pressure
of those kind hands more--nor listen to that gentle
voice? Ah! yes, we shall meet again in heaven, where


234
JACK SHEPPARD
I shall speedily join you. Now, then,” he added more
calmly, “I am ready to die. The only mercy you can
show me is to kill me.”
6. Then we won't even show you that mercy,” retorteo
the thief-taker brutally "So get up, and leave of
whimpering. Your time isn't come yet.”
“Mr. Wild," said Trenchard, “I shall proceed no
further in this business. Set the boy free”
“If I disobey you, Sir Rowland," replied the thief.
taker, "you'll thank me for it hereafter. Gag him.”
he added, pushing Thames rudely towards Quilt Arnold,
" and convey him to the boat.”
“A word," cried the boy, as the janizary was pre-
paring to obey his master's orders. 6. What has become
of Jack Sheppard ?”
“Devil knows !" answered Quilt; "but I believe
he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll
soon be on the high-road to Tyburn."
“Poor Jack !" sighed Thames.
“You needn't gag
me,” he added, “I'll not cry out."
"We won't trust you, my youngster," answered the
janizary. And, thrusting a piece of iron into his mouth,
he forced him out of the room.
Sir Rowland witnessed these proceedings like one
stupefied. He neither attempted to prevent his nephew's
departure, nor to follow him.
Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he
addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander.
“Is the case of watches on board ?” he asked in an
andertone.
'Ja," replied the skipper.
“ And the rings?”
“ Ja.”
“That's well. You must dispose of the goldsmith's
note I gave you yesterday, as soon as you arrive at
Rotterdam. It'll be advertised to-morrow."
“De duivel !” exclaimed Van Galgebrok. “Very


JACK SHEPPARD
235
66
well It shall be done as you direct. But about dat
jonker,” he continued, lowering his voice ; "have you
anything to add consarnin' him? It's almosht a pity
to put him under de water
"Is the sloop ready to sail ?" asked Wild, without
noticing the skipper's remark.
Ja," answered Van; "at a minut's nodish.”
“Here are your despatches,” said Jonathan, with
* significant look, and giving him a sealed packet.
“ Open them when you get on board—not before, and
act as they direct you."
“I ondershtand," replied the skipper, putting his
finger to his nose; "it shall be done."
“Sir Rowland,” said Jonathan, turning to the knight,
“will it please you to remain here till I return, or will
you accompany us?”
“I will go with you,” answered Trenchard, who by
this time had regained his composure, and with it al
his relentlessness of purpose.
“Come then," said Wild, marching towards the door,
" we've no time to lose.”
Quitting the night-cellar the trio soon arrived at the
river-side. Quilt Arnold was stationed at the stair-head,
near which the boat containing the captive boy was
moored. A few words passed between him and the
thief-taker as the latter came up; after which, all the
party-with the exception of Quilt, who was left on
shore-embarked within the wherry, which was pushed
from the strand and rowed swiftly along the stream-
for the tide was in its favour—by a couple of watermen.
Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was per-
fectly light. The moon had arisen, and everything
could be as plainly distinguished as during the day.
A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft
moving about in it a ghostly look. As they approached
London Bridge, the thief-taker whispered Van Galge-
brok, who acted as steergman, to make for a particular
>>


236
JACK SHEPPARD
“ Ab!
arch-near the Surrey shore. The skipper obeyed, and
in another moment they swept through the narrow lock.
While the watermen were contending with the eddies
occasioned by the fall below the bridge, Jonathan ob.
served a perceptible shudder run through Trenchard's
frame.
“You remember that starling, Sir Rowland," he said
maliciously,
“and what occurred on it twelve years ago.”
“Too well,” answered the knight, frowning
what is that?” he cried, pointing to a dark object
floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which
presented a frightful resemblance to a buman face.
“ We'll see,” returned the thief-taker. And, stretch-
ing out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the
flood.
It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely
a vestige of the features remaining. Here and there,
patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank
dripping hair hanging about what had once been the
face, gave it a gbastly appearance.
“It's the skull of a rebel,” said Jonathan, with
marked emphasis on the word, “ blown by the wind
from a spike on the bridge above us. I don't know
whose brainless bead it may be, but it'll do for my
collection." And he tossed it carelessly into the
bottom of tbe boat.
After this occurrence, not a word was exchanged
between them until they came in sight of the sloop,
which was lying at anchor off Wapping. Arrived at
her side, it was soon evident, from the throng of seamen
in Dutch dresses that displayed themselves, that her
crew were on the alert, and a rope having been thrown
down to the skipper, he speedily hoisted himself on
deck. Preparations were next made for taking Thamos
on board. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed
the rope round his body, and in this way the poor
boy was drawn up without difficulty. While he was


238
JACK SHEPPARD
him off to the coach before he could utter another word
“ first to Mr Walpole, and then to Newgate. And
now, Quilt,” he continued, addressing the janizary,
who approached him with the horse, “fly to Saint
Giles's Roundhouse, and if, through the agency of that
treacherous scoundrel, Terry O'Flaherty whom I've
put in my Black List, old Wood should have found his
way there, and have been detained by Sharples as I
directed, you may release him I don't care how soon
he learns that he has lost his adopted son When I've
escorted yon proud fool to his new quarters, I'll proceed
to the Mint and look after Jack Sheppard." With
this, he mounted his steed and rode off.
XVIII
How Jack Sheppard broke out of the cage at
Willesden.
The heart-piercing scream uttered by Mrs. Sheppard
after the commission of the robbery in Willesden
Church was productive of unfortunate consequences
to her son. Luckily, she was bereft of consciousness,
and was thus spared the additional misery of witnessing
what afterwards befell him. Startled by the cry, as
may be supposed, the attention of the whole congrega-
tion was drawn towards the quarter whence it proceeded.
Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the
shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost
precipitation. A boy attempted to follow; but, as the
suspicions of the lookers-on were roused by the previous
circumstances, the younger fugitive was seized and
detained. Meanwhile, Mr. Kneebone, baving been
alarmed by something in the widow's look before her
feelings found vent in the manner above described,


JACK SHEPPARD
239
thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of
his pocket-book_about the security of which, as it
contained several letters and documents implicating
himself and others in the Jacobite plot, he was, not
annaturally, solicitous—and finding it gone, he felt
certain he had been robbed. Turning quickly round,
in the hope of discovering the thief, he was no less
surprised than distressed - for in spite of his faults,
the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow-to per-
ceive Jack Sheppard in custody. The truth at once
flashed across his mind. This, then, was the cause of
the widow's wild, inexplicable look-of her sudden
shriek! Explaining his suspicions in a whisper to
Jack's captor, who proved to be a church warden and a
constable, by name John Dump, Mr. Kneebone begged
him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. Dump
instantly complied, and as soon as Jack was removed
from the sacred edifice, his person was searched from
head to foot, but without success. Jack submitted to
this scrutiny with a very bad grace, and vehemently
protested his innocence. In vain did the woollen-
draper offer to set him free if he would restore the
stolen article, or give up his associate, to whom it was
supposed he might have handed it. He answered with
the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever
of the matter—had seen no pocket-book, and had no
associate to give up. Nor did he content himself with
declaring his guiltlessness of the crime imputed to him,
but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser,
loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. By
this time, the churchyard was crowded with spectators,
some of whom dispersed in different directions in quest
of the other robber. But all that could be ascertained
in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short
time before in the direction of London. Of this man,
Kneebone resolved to go in pursuit; and leaving Jack
in charge of the constable, he proceeded to the small


,240
JACK SHEPPARD
inn—which bore then, as it bears now—the name of
the Six Bells—where, summoning the ostler, his steed
was instantly brought him, and springing on its back,
he rode away at full speed.
Meanwhile, after a consultation between Mr. Dump
and the village authorities, it was agreed to lock up
the prisoner in the cage. As he was conveyed thither,
an incident occurred, that produced a considerable im-
pression on the feelings of the youthful offender. Just
as they reached the eastern outlet of the churchyard-
where the tall elms cast a pleasant shade over the
rustic graves--a momentary stoppage took place. At
this gate two paths meet. Down that on the right
the young culprit was dragged-along that on the left
a fainting woman was borne in the arnis of several
females. It was his mother, and as he gazed on her
pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart
severely smote him. He urged his conductors to a
quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing
spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out
from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of
the little prison.
The cage at Willesden was, and is, for it is still
standing-a small round building about eight feet
high, with a pointed tiled roof, to which a number of
boards, inscribed with the names of the parish officers,
and charged with a multitude of admonitory notices
to vagrants and other disorderly persons, are attached.
Over these boards the two arms of a guide-post serve
to direct the wayfarer--on the right hand to the neigh-
bouring villages of Neasdon and Kingsbury, and on
the left to the Edgware Road and the healthy beights
of Hampstead. The cage has a strong door with an iron
grating at the top, and further secured by a stout bolt
and padlock. It is picturesquely situated beneath a tree
on the high-road, not far from the little hostel before
mentioned, and at no great distance from the church.
'!


JACK SHEPPARD
241
For some time after he was locked up in this prison
Jack continued in a very dejected state. Deserted by
his older companion in iniquity, and instigator to crime,
he did not know what might become of him; nor, as
we have observed, was the sad spectacle he had just
witnessed without effect. Though within the last two
days he had committed several heinous offences, and
one of a darker dye than any with which the reader
has been made acquainted, his breast was not yet so
callous as to be wholly insensible to the stings of
conscience.
Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and
terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw him-
self on the straw with which the cage was littered, and
endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. When
he awoke it was late in the day; but though he heard
voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of
a face peeping at him through the iron grating over
the door, no one entered the prison, or held any com-
munication with him. Feeling rather exhausted, it
occurred to him that possibly some provisions might
have been left by the constable; and, looking about,
he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf
on the floor. He ate of the bread with great appetite,
and having drunk as much as he chose of the water,
poured the rest on the floor. His hunger satisfied, his
spirits began to revive, and with this change of mood
all his natural audacity returned. And here he was
first visited by that genius which, in his subsequent
career, prompted him to so many bold and successful
attempts. Ĝlancing around his prison, he began to
think it possible he might effect an escape from it.
The door was too strong and too well secured to break
open -- the walls too thick: but the ceiling - - if he
could reach it there, he doubted not, he could make
an outlet.
While he was meditating flight in this way,
and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an


142
JACK SHEPPARD
old broken and rusty fork. Here was an instrument
which might be of the greatest service to him in accom-
plishing his design. He put it carefully aside, resolved
to defer the attempt till night. Time wore on some-
what slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his
impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades
of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and
Mr. Dump popped his head into the cage. He brought
another small loaf, and a can, with which he replenished
the pitcher, recommending Jack to be careful, as he
would get nothing further till morning. To this Jack
replied that he should be perfectly contented, provided
he might have a small allowance of gin. The latter
request, though treated with supreme contempt by Mr.
Dump, made an impression on some one outside ; for
not long after the constable departed, Jack heard a tap
at the door, and, getting up at the summons, he per-
ceived the tube of a pipe inserted between the bars.
At once divining the meaning of this ingenious device,
he applied his mouth to the tube, and sucked away,
while the person outgide poured spirit into the bowl.
Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and
thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack
again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself
with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was
perfectly dark. The strong potation he had taken,
combined with the fatigue and anxiety he had previ-
ously undergone, made him oversleep himself, and
when he awoke it was just beginning to grow light.
Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off
his drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. Availing
himself of certain inequalities in the door, he soon
managed to climb up to the roof; and securing his
feet against a slight projection in the wall, began to
use the fork with great effect. Before many minutes
elapsed, he had picked a large hole in the plaster,
which showered down in a cloud of dust; and, breaking


JACK SHEPPARD
243
off several laths, caught hold of a beam, by which he
held with one hand, until with the other he succeeded,
not without some difficulty, in forcing out one of the
tiles. The rest was easy.
In a few minutes more he
had made a breach in the roof wide enough to allow
him to pass through. Emerging from this aperture, he
was about to descend, when he was alarmed by hearing
the tramp of horses' feet swiftly approaching, and had
only time to hide himself behind one of the largest
sign-boards before alluded to, when two horsemen rode
up. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these
persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them,
as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to
look out of his hiding-place, dismounted. A noise was
next heard, as if some instrument were applied in the
door with the intent to force it open, and Jack's fears
were at once dispelled. At first he had imagined they
were officers of justice, come to convey him to a
stronger prison; but the voice of one of the parties,
which he recognised, convinced him they were his
friends.
“Look quick, Blueskin, and be cursed to you !”
was growled in the deep tones of Jonathan Wild.
“We shall have the whole village upon us while you're
striking the jigger. Use the gilt, man!”
“There's no need of picklock or crowbar here, Mr.
Wild,” cried Jack, placing his hat on the right arm of
the guidepost, and leaning over the board, “I've done
the trick myself."
“Why, what the devil's this?” vociferated Jonathan,
looking up
“Have you broken out of the cage,
Jack?"
Something like it,” replied the lad carelessly.
“ Bravo !” cried the thief-taker approvingly.
“Well, that beats all I ever heard of !” roared
Blueskin.
“But are you really there ?"
“No, I'm here," answered Jack, leaping down. “I


244
JACK SHEPPARD
But get
tell you what, Mr. Wild,” he added, laughing, "it
must be a stronger prison than Willesden Cage that
can hold me.”
“Ay, ay,” observed Jonathan, “you'll give the
keepers of his majesty's gaols some trouble before
you're many years older, I'll warrant you
up behind Blueskin. Some one may observe us.”
“Come, jump up," cried Blueskin, mounting his
steed, “and I'll soon whisk you to town. Edgeworth
Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you I thought
Bess would have cried her pretty eyes out when she
heard you was nabbed. You need give yourself no
more concern about Kneebone. Mr. Wild has done
his business.”
“Ay, ay," laughed Jonathan. “The pocket-book
you prigged contained the letters I wanted. He's
now in springankle warehouse with Sir Rowland
Trenchard So get up, and let's be off.”
“Before I leave this place, I must see my mother.”
“Nonsense," returned Jonathan gruffly. • Would
you expose yourself to fresh risk? If it hadn't been
for her you wouldn't have been placed in your late
jeopardy."
“I don't care for that,” replied Jack. “See her I
will. Leave me bebind : I'm not afraid. I'll be at
the Cross Shovels in the course of the day.”
"Nay, if you're bent upon this folly,” observed
Wild, who appeared to have bis own reasons for
humouring the lad, “I shan't binder you. Blueskin
will take care of the horses, and I'll go
with
you.”
So saying, he dismounted, and finging his bridle to
his companion, and ordering him to ride off to a little
distance, he followed Jack, who had quitted the main
road, and struck into a narrow path opposite the cage.
This path, bordered on each side by high privet hedges
of the most beautiful green, soon brought them to
stile.


JACK SHEPPARD
245
ss There s the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty
cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered
with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in
front of it · I'll be back in a minute"
“ Don't hurry yourself,” said Jonathan; “I'll wait
for you here."
XIX
Good and Evil.
As Jack opened the gate, and crossed the little garden,
which exhibited in every part the neatness and attention
of its owner, he almost trembled at the idea of further
disturbing her peace of mind. Pausing with the inten-
tion of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the
villags church, the tower of which could just be seen
through the trees. The rooks were cawing amid the
boughs, and all nature appeared awaking to happiness.
From this peaceful scene Jack's eye
fell
upon Jonathan,
who, seated upon the stile, under the shade of an elder
tree, was evidently watching him. A sarcastic smile
seemed to play upon the thief-taker's lips; and abashed
at his own irresolution, the lad went on.
After knocking for some time at the door without
effect, he tried the latch, and to his surprise found it
open. He stepped in with a heavy foreboding of
calamity. A cat came and rubbed herself against him
as he entered the house, and seemed by her mowing to
ask him for food. That was the only sound he heard.
Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he
summoned courage to call out “Mother!”
“Who's there i” asked a faint voice from the bed.
“Your son," answered the boy.
"Jack,"exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing
back the curtain. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming ?"


246
JACK SHEPPARD
66
“You're not dreaming, mother,” he answered. “I'm
come to say good-bye to you, and to assure you of my
safety before I leave this place.”
"Where are you going?” asked his mother.
“I hardly know," returned Jack; “but it's not safe
for me to remain much longer here.”
“True,” replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible
recollections of the day before crowded. “I know it
isn't. I won't keep you long. But tell me how you
have escaped from the confinement in which you were
placed—come and sit by me-here-upon the bed —
give me your hand—and tell me all about it.”
Her son complied, and sat down upon the patchwork
coverlet beside her.
Jack," said Mrs. Sheppard, clasping him with a
hand that burnt with fever, “I have been ill—dread.
fully ill—I believe delirious. I thought I should have
died last night. I won't tell you
what
agony you have
caused me I won't reproach you. Only promise me
to amend—to quit your vile companions—and I will
forgive you-will bless you. Oh! my dear, dear son,
be warned in time. You are in the hands of a wicked,
a terrible man, who will not stop till he has completed
your destruction.
Listen to your mother's prayers,
and do not let her die broken-hearted.”
“It is too late," returned Jack sullenly; "I can't be
honest, if I would.”
“Oh! do not say so," replied his wretched parent.
“It is never too late. I know you are in Jonathan
Wild's power, for I saw him near you in the church;
and if ever the enemy of mankind was permitted to
take human form, I beheld him then. Beware of him,
my son! Beware of him! You know not what villainy
he is capable of. Be honest, and you will be happy.
You are yet a child; and though you have strayed
from the right path, a stronger hand than your own
has led you thence. Return, I implore of you, to your


JACK SHEPPARD
347
master-to Mr. Wood. Acknowledge your faults. He
is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor
father's sake—for mine. Return to him, I say.”
"I can't," replied Jack doggedly.
“Can't !” repeated his mother. “Why not?”
“I'll tell you,” cried a deep voice from the back of
the bed. And immediately afterwards the curtain was
drawn aside, and disclosed the Satanic countenance of
Jonathan Wild, who had crept into the house unper-
ceived. “I'll tell you why he can't go back to his
master," cried the thief-taker, with a malignant grin.
“He has robbed him.”
“Robbed him !” screamed the widow. “Jack !"
Her son averted his gaze.
Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. « The
night before last, Mr. Wood's house was broken into
and plundered. Your son was seen by the carpenter's
wife in company with the robbers. Here,” he added,
throwing a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars
of the burglary, with the reward for Jack's appre-
hension."
"Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face.
Come,” said Wild, turning authoritatively to Jack
-"you have overstayed your time.”
“Do not go with him, Jack !" sbrieked his mother.
« Do not-do not !”
“ He must /" thundered Jonathan, or he goes to
gaol.”
“If you must go to prison, I will go with you,"
cried Mrs. Sheppard ; "but avoid that man as you
would a serpent.
“Come along," thundered Jonathan.
“Hear me, Jack !” shrieked his mother. “You
know not what you do. The wretch you confide in
has sworn to hang you. As I hope for mercy, I speak
the truth !- let him deny it if he can.
“Pshaw !” said Wild. “I could hang him now if I


248
JACK SHEPPARD
liked. But he may remain with you if he pleases : 1
shan't hinder him
“You hear, my son,” said the widow eagerly “Choose
between good and evil ;-between him and me And
mind, your life -more than your life-hangs upon your
choice,"
“It does so,” said Wild. “Choose, Jack"
The lad made no answer, but left the room
"He is gone!" cried Mrs Sheppard despairingly
“For ever !” said the thief-taker, preparing to follow.
“ Devil!” cried the widow, catching his arm, and
gazing with frantic eagerness in his face, “how many
years will you give my son before you execute your
terrible threat?"
“NINE !” answered Jonathan sternly.


EPOCH THE THIRD
1724
THE PRISON-BREAKER
I
The Return.
NEARLY
TEARLY nine years after the events last recorded,
and about the middle of May 1724, a young
man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his
way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and from the
curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left
of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular
habitation. The age of this individual could not be
more than twenty-one; his figure was tall, robust, and
gracefully proportioned; and his clear grey eye and
open countenance bespoke a frank, generous, and
resolute nature. His features were regular, and finely
formed ; his complexion bright and blooming-a little
shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun;
and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal
and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting
a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed
his own dark brown hair to fall over his shoulders in
ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the


2
JACK SHEPPARD
court-gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion
which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own
days. He wore a French military undress of the period,
with high jack-boots, and a laced hat; and, though his
attire indicated no particular rank, he had completely
the air of a person of distinction. Such was the effect
produced upon the passengers by his good looks and
manly deportment, that few-especially of the gentler
and more susceptible sex -failed to turn round and
bestow a second glance upon the handsome stranger.
Unconscious of the interest he excited, and entirely
occupied by his own thoughts—which, if his bosom
could have been examined, would have been found
composed of mingled hopes and fears+the young man
walked on till he came to an old house, with great
projecting bay windows on the first floor, and situated
as nearly as possible at the back of Saint Clement's
Church. Here he halted ; and looking upwards, read, at
the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-
painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-
branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of
WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLEN-DRAPER.
Tears started to the young man's eyes on beholding
the change, and it was with difficulty he could com-
mand himself sufficiently to make the inquiries he
desired to do respecting the former owner of the house.
As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage ad-
vanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the
present proprietor. Mr. Kneebone was attired in the
extremity of the mode. A full-curled wig descended
half-way down his back and shoulders ; a neckcloth of
“right Mechlin ” was twisted round his throat so tightly
as almost to deprive him of breath, and threaten bim
with apoplexy; he had lace, also, at his wrists and
bosom ; gold clocks to his hose, and red heels to his


JACK SHEPPARD
3
shoes A stiff, formally cut coat of cinnamon-coloured
cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a
crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached
the middle of his legs ; and his costume was completed
by the silver hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat
under his left arm. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-
draper very politely requested to know his business.
“I'm almost afraid to state it," faltered the other;
"but, may I ask whether Mr. Wood, the carpenter, who
formerly resided here, is still living?”
“If you feel any anxiety on his account, sir, I'm
happy to be able to relieve it," answered Kneebone
readily. “My good friend, Owen Wood-Heaven pre-
serve him !-is still living; and, for a man who'll never
see sixty again, he's in excellent preservation, I assure
you.”
“You delight me with the intelligence," said the
stranger, entirely recovering his cheerfulness of look.
“I began to fear, from his having quitted the old place,
that some misfortune must have befallen him."
Quite the contrary," rejoined the woollen-draper,
laughing good-humouredly. “Everything has pros-
pered with him in an extraordinary manner. His
business has thriven: legacies have unexpectedly
dropped into his lap; and, to crown all, he has made
a large fortune by a lucky speculation in South-Sea
stock-made it, too, where so many others have lost
fortunes, your humble servant amongst the number-
ha! ha! In a word, sir, Mr. Wood is now in very
affluent circumstances. He stuck to the shop as long
as it was necessary, and longer, in my opinion. When
he left these premises, three years ago, I took them
from him; or rather-to· deal frankly with you—he
placed me in them rent-free; for I'm not ashamed to
confess it, I've had losses, and heavy ones; and, if it
hadn't been for him, I don't know where I should have
been, Mr. Wood, sir," he added, with much emotion,


4
JACK SHEPPARD
66
press a smile.
“is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest,
were it not that-
And he hesitated.
Well, sir ?” cried the other eagerly.
“His wife is still living,” returned Kneebone dryly.
“I understand," replied the stranger, unable to re-
“ But it strikes me I've heard that Mrs.
Wood was once a favourite of yours.”
“So she was," replied the woollen-draper, helping
himself to an enormous pinch of snuff, with the air of
a man who does not dislike to be rallied about his
gallantry_" " 80 she was. But those days are over-
quite over. Since her husband has laid me under such
a weight of obligation, I couldn't, in honour, continue
-hem!” And he took another explanatory pinch.
“ Added to which, she is neither so young as she was,
nor is her temper by any means improved-hem!”
“Say no more on the subject, sir," observed the
stranger gravely; "but let us turn to a more agreeable
one- her daughter."
“ That is a far more agreeable one, I must confess,"
returned Kneebone with a self-sufficient smirk.
The stranger looked at him, as if strongly disposed
to chastise his impertinence.
“Is she married ?” he asked, after a brief pause.
“Married !-no-no," replied the woollen-draper.
“Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave
can give up its dead. When a mere child, she fixed her
affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom
her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed,
about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain
faithful to his memory.'
“ You astonish me," said the stranger in a voice full
of emotion.
“Why, it is astonishing, certainly,” remarked Knee-
bone, “ to find any woman constantmespecially to a
girlish attachment; but such is the case. She bas had
offers innumerable ; for where wealth and beauty are


JACK SHEPPARD
5
combined, as in her instance, suitors are seldom want-
ing. But she was not to be tempted.”
“She is a matchless creature ! "exclaimed the young
man,
66
“So I think,” replied Kneebone, again applying to
the snuff-box, and by that means escaping the angry
glance levelled at him by his companion.
“I have one inquiry more to make of you, sir,” said
the stranger, as soon as he had conquered his dis-
pleasure, "and I will then trouble you no further.
You spoke just now of a youth whom Mr. Wood
brought up. As far as I recollect, there were two.
What has become of the other?”.
Why, surely, you don't mean Jack Sheppard ?”
cried the woollen-draper in surprise.
“That was the lad's name,” returned the stranger.
"I guessed from your dress and manner, sir, that
you must have been long absent from your own
country,” said Kneebone; "and now I'm convinced of
it, or you wouldn't have asked that question. Jack
Sheppard is the talk and terror of the whole town.
The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to
the men, they daren't go to bed at all. He's the most
daring and expert housebreaker that ever used a crow-
bar. He laughs at locks and bolts; and the more
carefully you guard your premises from him, the more
likely are you to insure an attack. His exploits and
escapes are in everybody's mouth. He has been
lodged in every roundhouse in the metropolis, and has
broken out of them all, and boasts that no prison can
hold him. We shall see. His skill has not been
tried. At present he is under the protection of
Jonathan Wild."
“Does that villain still maintain his power ?” asked
the stranger sternly.
“He does,” replied Kneebone, “and, what is more
surprising, it seems to increase. Jonathan completely
I


6
JACK SHEPPARD
baffles and derides the end of justice. It is useless
to contend with him, even with right on your side.
Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I
was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite
party, and, by Wild's machinations got clapped into
Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with
my
head
upon my shoulders. I charged the thief taker, as was
the fact, with having robbed me, by means of the lad
Sheppard, whom he instigated to the deed, of the very
pocket-book he produced in evidence against me; bat
it was of no avail—I couldn't obtain a heariug Mr.
Wood fared still worse. Bribed by a certain Sır
Rowland Trenchard, Jonathan kidnapped the car-
penter's adopted son, Thames Darrell, and placed him
in the hands of a Dutch skipper, with orders to throw
him overboard when he got out to sea; and though
this was proved as clear as day, the rascal managed
matters so adroitly, and gave such a different com-
plexion to the whole affair, that he came off with
flying colours. One reason perhaps of his success in
this case might be, that having arrested his associate
in the dark transaction, Sir Rowland Trenchard, on a
charge of high treason, he was favoured by Walpole,
who found his account in retaining such an agent.
Be this as it may, Jonathan remained the victor; and
shortly afterwards-at the price of a third of his
estate, it was whispered-he procured Trenchard's
liberation from confinement." At the mention of the
latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the
stranger's brow.
“Do you know anything further of Sir Rowland ?"
he asked.
“Nothing more than this," answered Kneebone-
“that after the failure of his projects, and the down-
fall of his party, he retired to his seat, Ashton Hall,
near Manchester, and has remained there ever since.
entirely secluded from the world.”


JACK SHEPPARD
7
man.
The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection.
“And now, sir," he said, preparing to take his depar-
ture, “will you add to the obligation already conferred,
by informing me where I can meet with Mr. Wood ?”
“With pleasure," replied the woollen-draper. “He
lives at Dollis Hill, a beautiful spot near Willesden,
about four or five miles from town, where he has
taken a farm. If you ride out there and the place
is well worth a visit, for the magnificent view it com-
mands of some of the finest country in the neighbour-
hood of London-you are certain to meet with him.
I saw him yesterday, and he told me he shouldn't stir
from home for a week to come. He called here on his
way back, after he had been to Bedlam to visit poor
Mrs. Sheppard."
“ Jack's mother !” exclaimed the young
“Gracious Heaven !--is she the inmate of a mad-
house ?"
“She is, sir," answered the woollen-draper sadly,
“driven there by her son's misconduct. Alas! that
the punishment of his offences should fall on her head.
Poor soul! she nearly died when she heard he had
robbed his master; and it might have been well if she
had done so, for she never afterwards recovered her
She rambles continually about Jack and her
husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as
can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes
all her misery. I pity her from the bottom of my
heart. But in the midst of all her affliction she has
found a steady friend in Mr. Wood, who looks after
her comforts and visits her constantly. Indeed, I've
beard him say that, but for his wife, he would shelter
her under his own roof. That, sir, is what I call
being a good Samaritan.”
The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away
a tear. Perceiving he was about to take leave, Knee-
bone ventured to ask whom he had had the honour of
reason.


8
JACK SHEPPARD
addressing. Before the question could be answered, a
side-door was opened, and a very handsome woman of
Amazonian proportions presented herself, and marched
familiarly up to Mr Kneebone. She was extremely
showily dressed, and her large hooped petticoat gave
additional effect to her lofty stature. As soon as she
noticed the stranger, she honoured him with an ex-
tremely impudent stare, and scarcely endeavoured to
disguise the admiration with which his good looks
impressed her.
"Don't you perceive, my dear Mrs. Maggot, that
I'm engaged ?" said Kneebone, a little disconcerted.
"Who've you got with you?” demanded the
Amazon boldly.
“The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll,” replied
the woollen-draper with increased embarrassment. “I
don't know his name And he looked at the moment
as if he had lost all desire to know it.
“Well, he's a pretty fellow, at all events," observed
Mrs. Maggot, eyeing him from head to heel with
evident satisfaction—"a devilish pretty fellow !”
“Upon my word, Poll,” said Kneebone, becoming
very red, “you might have a little more delicacy than
to tell him so before
my
face.”
“What!” exclaimed Mrs. Maggot, drawing up her
fine figure to its full height; “because I condescend
to live with you am I never to look at another man-
especially at one so much to my taste as this? Don't
think it!”
“You had better retire, madam,” said the woollen-
draper sharply, "if you can't conduct yourself with
more propriety."
“ Order those who choose to obey you,” rejoined the
lady scornfully. “Though you lorded it over that
fond fool Mrs. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can
promise you. That for you!” And she snapped her
fingers in his face.


JACK SHEPPARD
9
“Zounds!” cried Kneebone furiously. “ Go to
your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you !"
“Make me!" echoed Mrs. Maggot, bursting into a
loud contemptuous laugh. "Try!"
Enraged at the assurance of his mistress, the woollen-
draper endeavoured to carry his threat into execution;
but all his efforts to remove her were unavailing. At
length, after he had given up the point from sheer
exbaustion, the Amazon seized him by the throat and
pushed him backwards with such force that he rolled
over the counter.
“There !” she cried, laughing, “that'll teach you
to lay hands upon me again. You should remember
before you try your strength against mine, that when
I rescued you from the watch, and you induced me to
come and live with you, I beat off four men, any of
wbom was a match for you-ha! ha!”
"My dear Poll !” said Kneebone, picking himself
up, “I entreat you to moderate yourself.”
"Entreat a fiddlestick !” retorted Mrs. Maggot:
“I'm tired of you, and will go back to my old lover
Jack Sheppard. He's worth a dozen of you. Or if
this good-looking young fellow will only say the word,
I'll go with him.”
“You may go, and welcome, madam !” rejoined
Kneebone spitefully. “But I should think, after the
specimen you've just given of your amiable disposition,
no person would be likely to saddle himself with such
an incumbrance.”
What say you, sir ?" said the Amazon, with an en-
gaging leer at the stranger. “You will find me tract-
able enough; and, with me by your side, you need fear
neither constable nor watchman. I've delivered Jack
Sheppard from many an assault. I can wield a quarter-
staff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg
himself at the broadsword. Will
you
take me?”
However tempting Mrs. Maggot's offer may appear,


10
JACK SHEPPARD
6
self ;
the young man thought fit to decline it, and, after a
few words of well-merited compliment on her extra.
ordinary prowess, and renewed thanks to Mr Knee-
bone, he took his departure
Good-bye!” cried Mrs. Maggot, kissing her hand
to him.
“I'll find you out. And now," she added,
glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, “I'll
go to Jack Sheppard."
“ You shall first go to Bridewell, you jade!” re.
joined Kneebone. “Here, Tom,” he added, calling to
a shopboy, “run and fetch a constable.”
“He had better bring half-a-dozen," said the Amazon,
taking up a cloth-yard wand, and quietly seating her.
one won't do."
On leaving Mr. Kneebone's house, the young man
hastened to an hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent
Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his
course towards the west-end of the town. Urging his
steed along Oxford Road -as that great approach to
the metropolis was then termed -he soon passed
Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception
of a few scattered houses, the country was completely
open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and
gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived
at Tyburn Gate, where, before he turned off upon the
Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at
the place of execution. This “fatal retreat for the
unfortunate brave” was marked by a low wooden
railing, within which stood the triple tree. Opposite
the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like
the stand at a race-course, which, on state occasions,
was crowded with spectators. Without the enclosure
were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly
burdens.
Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight.
Influenced, probably, by what he bad heard from Mr.
Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Shep


JACK SHEPPARD
pard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited
him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene,
fell into a gloomy reverie. While he was thus musing,
two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a
little distance, stopped likewise. One of them was
a stout, square-built man, with a singularly swarthy
complexion, and harsh, forbidding features. He was
well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols
in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. The other
individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed
from the stranger's view. Presently, however, a sudden
movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which
were those of a young man of nearly his own age.
The dress of this person was excessively showy, and
consisted of a scarlet riding-habit, lined and faced
with blue, and bedizened with broad gold lace, a
green silk-knit waistcoat, embroidered with silver,
and decorated with a deep fringe, together with a
hat tricked out in the same gaudy style. His figure
was slight, but woll built; and in stature he did not
exceed five feet four. His complexion was pale, and
there was something sinister in the expression of his
large black eyes. His head was small and bullet-
shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek
black hair cut off closely round his temples. A mutual
recognition took place at the same instant between the
stranger and this individual. Both started. The latter
seemed inclined to advance and address the former;
but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his
companion in tones familiar to the stranger's ear, and
striking spurs into his steed, dashed off at full speed
along the Edgeware Road. Impelled by a feeling,
into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger
started after them; but they were better mounted,
and soon distanced him. Remarking that they struck
off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and
soon found himself on Paddington Green. A row of


I3
JACK SHEPPAR.
magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their
broad arms over this pleasant spot. From a man, who
was standing beneath the shade of one of those noble
trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had
ridden along the Harrow Road. With a faint view
of overtaking them, the pursuer urged his steed to
a quicker pace. Arrived at Westbourne Green, then
nothing more than a common covered with gorse
and
furze-bushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages
and an alehouse—he perceived through the hedges the
objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill
that rises from Kensal Green.
By the time he had reached the summit of this hill,
he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the
chase having in some measure subsided, he began to
reproach himself for his folly in having wandered -as
he conceived—so far out of his course. Before retracing
his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over
the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath
him, which is now hidden from the traveller's view
by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can
consequently only be commanded from the interior of
that attractive place of burial--and which, before it
was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned
out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. After
feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was
about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer
that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a
lane a little farther on, to the right. Following this
direction he opened a gate, and struck into one of
the most beautiful green lanes imaginable, which, after
various windings, conducted him into a more frequented
road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought.
Glancing at the finger-post over the cage, which has
been described as situated at the outskirts of the village,
and seeing no direction to Dollis Hill, he made fresh
inquiries as to where it lay, from an elderly man who


JACK SHEPPARD
13
was standing with another countryman near the little
prison.
“Whose house do you want, master ?” said the man,
touching his hat.
“Mr. Wood's," was the reply.
“There is Dollis Hill," said the man, pointing to
a well-wooded eminence about a mile distant; "and
there," he added, indicating the roof of a house just
visible above a grove of trees, “is Mr. Wood's. If
you ride past the church and mount the hill, you'll
come to Neasdon, and then you'll not have above half
a mile to go."
The young man thanked his informant, and was
about to follow his instructions, when the other called
after him
“I say, master, did you ever hear tell of Mr. Wood's
famous 'prentice ?”
“What apprentice?" asked the stranger, in surprise.
"Why, Jack Sheppard, the notorious housebreaker
-him as has robbed half Lunnun, to be sure. You
must know, sir, when he was a lad, the day after he
broke into his master's house in Wych Street, he picked
a gentleman's pocket in our church during sarvice-time
that he did, the heathen. The gentleman catched
him i' th' fact, and we shut him up for safety i' that
pris'n. But ," said the fellow, with a laugh, " he soon
contrived to make his way out on it, though. Ever
since he's become so famous, the folks about here ha'
christened it Jack Sheppard's Cage. His mother used
to live i' this village, just down yonder; but when her
son took to bad ways, she went distracted—and now
she's i' Bedlam, I've heerd.”
"I tell'e what, John Dump," said the other fellow,
who had hitherto preserved silence, “I don't know
whether you talkin' o' Jack Sheppard has put him
into my head or not; but I once had him pointed
out to me, and if that were him as I seed then,
66
1


14
JACK SHEPPARD
he's just now ridden past us, and put up at the Six
Belle."
“The deuce he has,” cried Dump. “If you were
sure o' that we might seize him, and got the reward
for his apprehension.'
“That 'ud be no such easy matter," replied the
countryman. “Jack's a desperate fellow, and is always
well armed; besides, he has a comrade with him. But
I'll tell’e what we might dom
The young man heard no more. Taking the direc-
tion pointed out, he rode off. As he passed the Six
Bells, he noticed the steeds of the two horsemen at
the door; and glancing into the house, perceived the
younger of the tw
in the passage. The latter no
sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an
adjoining room. After debating with himself whether
he should further seek an interview, which, though
now in his power, was so sedulously shunned by the
other party, he decided in the negative; and contented
himself with writing upon a slip of paper the hasty
words—"You are known by the villagers—be upon
your guard,”-he gave it to the ostler, with instructions
to deliver it instantly to the owner of the horse he
pointed out, and pursued his course.
Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with
its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a
hill-side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of
the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster
of well-built houses which constitute the village of
Neasdon. From this spot a road, more resembling
the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare,
led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. It was
a serene and charming evening, and twilight was
gently stealing over the face of the country. Bordered
by fine timber, the road occasionally offered glimpses
of a lovely valley, until a wider opening gave a full
view of a delightful and varied prospect. On the left


JACK SHEPPARD
15
On a
lay the heights of Hampstead, studded with villas,
while farther off a hazy cloud marked the position of
the metropolis. The stranger concluded he could not
be far from his destination, and a turn in the road
showed him the house.
Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely
overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. Wood's dwelling-
a plain, substantial, commodious farmhouse.
bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his
mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy
carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and
benevolence. The progress of time was marked in
Mr. Wood by increased corpulence and decreased
powers of vision - by deeper wrinkles and higher
shoulders, by scantier breath, and a fuller habit. Still
he looked hale and hearty, and the country life he led
had imparted a ruddier glow to his cheek. Around
him were all the evidences of plenty. A world of
haystacks, beanstacks, and straw-ricks flanked the
granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded
with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle
were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the
stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and
stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a
number of farming men were passing and repassing
about their various occupations. At the back of the
house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden,
full of apple-trees and other fruit-trees in blossom, and
lively with the delicious verdure of early spring.
Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. Wood turned
to look at him. It was now getting dusk, and he
could only imperfectly distinguish the features and
figure of the stranger.
“I need not ask whether this is Mr. Wood,” said
the latter, “since I find him at his own gate.”
“You are right, sir," said the worthy carpenter,
rising. “I am Owen Wood, at your service."


16
JACK SHEPPARD
“You do not remember me, I dare say?" observed
the stranger.
“I can't say I do,” replied Wood. “Your voice seems
familiar to me—and—but I'm getting a little deaf-
and my eyes don't serve me quite so well as they used
to do, especially by this light.”
“Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting;
"you'll recollect me by-and-by, I've no doubt. I bring
you tidings of an old friend."
“Then you are heartily welcome, sir, whoever you
are. Pray walk in. Here, Jem, take the gentleman's
horse to the stable see him dressed and fed directly.
Now, sir, will you please to follow me?”
Mr. Wood then led the way up a rather high, and,
according to modern notions, incommodious flight of
steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour,
the windows of which were darkened by pots of
flowers and creepers.
There was
no light in the
room; but notwithstanding this, the young man did
not fail to detect the buxom figure of Mrs. Wood,
now more buxom and more gorgeously arrayed than
ever—as well as a young and beautiful female, in
whom he was at no loss to recognise the carpenter's
daughter.
Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year.
Her features were still slightly marked by the disorder
alluded to in the description of her as a child-but
that was the only drawback to her beauty. Their
expression was so amiable, that it would have re
deemed a countenance a thousand times plainer thar.
hers. Her figure was perfect, tall, graceful, rounded
—and then she had deep liquid blue eyes, that rivalled
the stars in lustre. On the stranger's appearance,
she was seated near the window, busily occupied with
her needle.
“My wife and daughter, sir," said the carpenter,
introducing them to his guest.


JACK SAEPPARD
17
Mrs Wood, whose admiration for masculine beauty
was by no means abated, glanced at the well-propor-
tioned figure of the young man, and made him a very
civil salutation. Winifred's reception was kind, but
more distant, and after the slight ceremonial she re-
sumed her occupation
“This gentleman brings us tidings of an old friend,
my dear,” said the carpenter
“Ay, indeed! And who may that be " inquired
his wife,
“One whom you may perhaps have forgotton,"
replied the stranger, “but who can never forget the
kindness he experienced at your hands, or at those of
your excellent husband.”
At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour
fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which
she was engaged fell from her hand.
“I have a token to deliver to you," continued the
stranger, addressing her.
“To me?” gasped Winifred.
" This locket," he said, taking a little ornament
attached to black riband from his breast, and giving
it to her ;
“ do you remember it?”
“I do—I do!” cried Winifred.
“ What's all this?” exclaimed Wood, in amaze-
ment.
“Do you not know me, father?” said the young
man, advancing towards him, and warmly grasping
his hand. “ Have nine years so changed me, that
there is no trace left of your adopted son ?”
“God bless me!” ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing
can-can it be?”
“Surely," screamed Mrs. Wood, joining the group,
“it isn't Thames Darrell come to life again ?”
“It is—it is,” cried Winifred, rushing towards him,
and Ainging her arms round his neck." it is my
dear
dear brother."
his eyes,
22


18
JACK SHEPPARD
.“ Well, this is what I never expected to see," said
the carpenter, wiping his eyes; “I hope I'm not
dreaming. Thames, my dear boy, as soon as Winny
has done with you, let me embrace you."
"My turn comes before yours, sir," interposed his
better half. “Come to my arms, Thames. Oh dear!
Oh dear !."
To repeat the questions and congratulations which
now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the
carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son
to his breast with such warmth as to almost squeeze
the breath from his body, capered around the room,
threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed
various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of
his superfluous satisfaction-to describe the scarcely
less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more
subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred,
would be a needless task, as it must occur to every
one's imagination. Supper was quickly served ; the
oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar;
the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one
of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were
too full.
Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his
own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which
may be briefly told. Carried out to sea by Van
Galgebrok and thrown overboard, while struggling
with the waves he had been picked up by a French
fishing-boat and carried to Ostend. After encountering
various hardships and privations for a long time, during
which he had no means of communicating with England,
he at length found his way to Paris, where he was
taker notice of by Cardinal Dubois, who employed him
as one of his secretaries, and subsequently advanced
him to the service of Philip of Orleans, from whom he
received a commission. On the death of his royal
patron he resolyed to return to his own country; and,


JACK SHEPPARD
19
after various delays, which had postponed it to the
present time, he had succeeded in accomplishing his
object.
Winifred listened to his narration with the pro-
foundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful
eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings
had been interested. The discourse then turned to
Darrell's old playmate, Jack Sheppard; and Mr. Wood,
in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy
condition to which it had reduced his mother.
"For my part, it's only what I expected of him,"
observed Mrs. Wood," and I'm sorry and surprised he
hasn't swung for his crimes before this.
The gallows
has groaned for him for years. As to his mother, I've
no pity for her. She deserves what has befallen her."
“Dear mother, don't say so," returned Winifred.
“One of the consequences of criminal conduct is the
shame and disgrace which—worse than any punishment
the evil-doer can suffer—is brought by it upon the
innocent relatives ; and, if Jack had considered this,
perhaps he would not have acted as he has done,
and have entailed so much misery on his unhappy
parent."
“ I always detested Mrs. Sheppard,” cried the car-
penter's wife bitterly; "and, I repeat, Bedlam's too
good for her."
"My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more
charitable-
“Charitable !” repeated his wife, “that's your con-
Marry, come up. I've been a great deal
too charitable. Here's Winny always urging you to
go and visit Mrs. Sheppard in the asylum, and take
her this, and send her that;—and I've never prevented
you, though such mistaken liberality's enough to pro-
voke a saint. And then, forsooth, she must needs
prevent your hanging Jack Sheppard after the robbery
in Wych Street, when you might have done so. Per-
"
stant cry.


20
JACK SHEPPARD
2
1)
haps you'll call that charity : I call it defeating the
ends of justice. See what a horrible rascal you've let
loose upon the world."
“I'm sure, mother," rejoined Winifred, "if any one
was likely to feel resentment, I was ; for no one could
be more frightened. But I was sorry for poor Jack-
as I am still—and hoped he would mend
“Mend!" echoed Mrs. Wood contemptuously; "he'll
never mend till he comes to Tyburn
“At least, I will hope so," returned Winifred
“But, as I was saying, I was most dreadfully frightened
on the night of the robbery. Though so young at
the time, I remember every circumstance distioctly.
I was sitting up, lamenting your departure, dear
Thames, when, hearing an odd noise, I went to the
landing, and, by the light of a dark lantern, saw
Jack Sheppard stealing upstairs, followed by two
men with crape on their faces. I'm ashamed to say
that I was too much terrified to scream out-but
ran aud hid myself.”
“Hold your tongue,” cried Mrs. Wood. “I declare
you throw me into an ague. Do you think I forget
it? Didn't they help themselves to all the plate and
the money-to several of my best dresses, and, amongst
others, to my favourite kincob gown; and l've never
been able to get another like it. Marry, come up. I'd
hang 'em all, if I could. Were such a thing to happen
again, I'd never let Mr. Wood rest till he brought the
villains to justice."
"I hope such a thing never will happen again, my
dear," observed Wood mildly: "but, when it does, it
will be time to consider what course we ought to
pursue,"
“Let them attempt it, if they dare,” cried Mrs.
Wood, who had worked herself into a passion; "and,
I'll warrant 'em, the boldest robber among 'em sball
repunt it, if he comes across me.”


JACK SHEPPARD
21
“No doubt, my dear." acquiesced the carpenter :
“no doubt."
Thames, who had been more than once on the point
of mentioning his accidental rencounter with Jack
Sheppard, not being altogether without apprehension,
from the fact of his being in the neighbourhood-now
judged it more prudent to say nothing on the subject,
from a fear of increasing Mrs. Wood's displeasure ;
and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the
conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. Mr.
Wood could give him no further information respecting
Sir Rowland Trenchard than what he had obtained
from Kneebone; but begged him to defer the further
consideration of the line of conduct he meant to pursue
until the morrow, when he hoped to have a plan to lay
before him, of which he would approve.
The night was now advancing, and the party began
to think of separating. As Mrs. Wood, who had re-
covered her good humour, quitted the room, she be-
stowed a hearty embrace on Thames, and she told him,
laughingly, that she would “defer all she had to propose
to him until to-morrow.
To-morrow! She never beheld it.
After an affectionate parting with Winifred, Thames
was conducted by the carpenter to his sleeping apart-
ment—a comfortable, cozy chamber; such a one, in
short, as can only be met with in the country, with its
dimity-curtained bed, its sheets fragrant of lavender,
its clean white furniture, and an atmosphere breathing
of freshness. Left to himself, he took a survey of the
room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the
chimney-piece a portrait of himself. It was a copy
of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by
Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollec-
tions.
When about to retire to rest, the rencounter with
Jack Sheppard again recurred to him, and he half


22
JACK SHEPPARD
blamed himself for not acquainting Mr. Wood with
the circumstances, and putting him upon his guard
against the possibility of an attack. On weighing
the matter over, he grow so uneasy that he resolved
to descend, and inform him of his misgivings. But,
when he got to the door with this intention, he became
ashamed of his fears; and feeling convinced that Jack
- bad as he might be-was not capable of such atro-
cious conduct as to plunder his benefactor twice, he
contented himself with looking to the priming of his
pistols, and placing them near him, to be ready in
case of need, he threw himself on the bed, and speedily
fell asleep.
II
The Burglary at Dollis Hill.
THAMES DARRELL's fears were not, however, ground-
less. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking
outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose.
On receiving the warning note from the ostler, Jack
Sheppard and his companion left Willesden, and tak-
ing, as a blind, the direction of Harrow, returned at
nightfall by a by-lane to Neasdon, and put up at a little
public-house, called the Spotted Dog.
Here they
remained till midnight, when, calling for their reckon-
ing and their steeds, they left the house.
It was a night well fitted to their enterprise-calm,
still, and profoundly dark. As they passed beneath
the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the
gloom was impenetrable. The robbers proceeded singly,
and kept on the grass skirting the road, so that no noise
was made by their horses' feet. As they neared the
house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted, and
addressed his companion in a low voice :


JACK SHEPPARD
23
“I don't half like this job, Blueskin,” he said ;
"it
always went against the grain. But, since I've seen
the friend and companion of my childhood, Thames
Darrell, I've no heart for it. Shall we turn back ?"
“And disappoint Mr. Wild, captain ?” remonstrated
the other, in a deferential tone. “ You know this
is a pet project. It might be dangerous to thwart
him."
“Pish !” cried Jack; “I don't value his anger a
straw. All our fraternity are afraid of him; but I
laugh at his threats. He daren't quarrel with me:
and if he does, let him look to himself. I've my own
reasons for disliking this job.”
“Well, you know I always act under your orders,
captain,” returned Blueskin ; “and if you give the
word to retreat, I shall obey, of course; but I know
what Edgeworth Bess will say, when we go home empty-
handed.'
Why, what will she say?” inquired Sheppard.
“That we were afraid," replied the other ; “but never
mind her."
“Ay; but I do mind her,” cried Jack, upon whom
his comrade's observation had produced the desired
effect. "We'll do it.”
“That's right, captain," rejoined Blueskin. “You
pledged yourself to Mr. Wild-
"I did,” interrupted Jack; "and I never yet broke
an engagement. Though a thief, Jack Sheppard is a
man of his word.”
"To be sure he is," acquiesced Blueskin. “I should
like to meet the man who would dare to gainsay it.”
“One word before we begin, Blueskin,” said Jack
authoritatively; "in case the family should be alarmed
-mind, no violence. There's one person in the house
whom I wouldn't frighten for the world.”
“Wood's daughter, I suppose ?” observed the other.
“You've hit it,” answered Sheppard.


JACK SHEPPARD
25
boots, and crept stealthily upstairs, treading upon the
points of their toes so cautiously, that not a board
creaked beneath their weight. Pausing at each door
on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and
listened intently. Having ascertained by the breathing
which room Thames occupied, he speedily contrived to
fasten him in. He then tried the door of Mr. Wood's
bed-chamber-it was locked, with the key left in it.
This occasioned a little delay; but Jack, whose skill as
a workman in the particular line he had chosen was
unequalled, and who laughed at difficulties, speedily
cut out a panel by means of a centre-bit and knife,
took the key from the other side, and unlocked the
door. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking
the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room ;
and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and ap-
proached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. The
loud noise proceeding from the couch proved that their
slumbers were deep and real, and unconscious of the
danger in whicb she stood, Mrs. Wood turned over to
obtain a more comfortable position. During this move
ment, Jack grasped the barrel of his pistol, held his
breath, and motioned to Blueskin, who bared a long
knife, to beep still. The momentary alarm over, he
threw a piece of wash-leather over a bureau, so as to
deaden the sound, and instantly broke it open with a
small crowbar. While he was filling his pockets with
golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the
plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it
open, began filling a canvas bag with its contents-
silver coffee-pots, chocolate dishes, waiters, trays,
tankards, goblets, and candlesticks. It might be
supposed that these articles, when thrust together into
the bag, would have jingled, but these skilful practi-
tioners managed matters so well that no noise was
made. After rifling the room of everything portable,
including some of Mrs. Wood's ornaments and wearing


26
JACK SHEPPARD
apparel, they prepared to depart. Jack then intimated
his intention of visiting Winifred's chamber, in which
several articles of value were known to be kept; but
as, notwithstanding his reckless character, he still
retained a feeling of respect for the object of his
boyish affections, he would not suffer Blueskin to
accompany him, so he commanded him to keep watch
over the sleepers--strictly enjoining him, however, to
do them no injury. Again having recourse to the
centre-bit--for Winifred's door was locked-Jack had
nearly cut out a panel, when a sudden outcry was
raised in the carpenter's chamber. The next moment,
à struggle was heard, and Blueskin appeared at the
door followed by Mrs. Wood.
Jack instantly extinguished the light, and called to
his comrade to come after him. But Blueskin found
it impossible to make off--at least with the spoil-
Mrs. Wood having laid hold of the canvas bag.
“Give back the things !" cried the lady. "Help!
-help, Mr. Wood.”
“Leave go!" thundered Blueskin ;“leave go—you'd
better!”—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with
one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife.
“No, I won't leave go!” screamed Mrs. Wood.
“Fire !-murder-thieves !—I've got one of them!”
“Come along," cried Jack.
"I can't," answered Blueskin. "This she-devil has
got hold of the sack. Leave go, I tell you !” and he
forced open the knife with his teeth.
“Help!-murder !-thieves !” screamed Mrs. Wood;
"Owen-Owen !—Thames, help!”
"Coming !" cried Mr. Wood, leaping from the bed.
“Where are you?”
“Here," replied Mrs. Wood. "Help-I'll hold him!"
"Leave her," cried Jack, darting downstairs, amid a
furious ringing of bells-"the house is alarmed-follow
+ 14 !"


JACK SHEPPARD
27
“Curses light on you !” cried Blueskin savagely;
"since you won't be advised, take your
fate."
And seizing her by the hair, he pulled back her head,
and drew the knife with all his force across her throat.
There was a dreadful stifled groan, and she fell heavily
upon the landing The screams of the unfortunate
woman had aroused Thames from his slumbers. Snatch-
ing up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror
found it fastened. He heard the struggle on the land-
ing, the fall of the heavy body, the groan--and excited
almost to frenzy by his fears, he succeeded in forcing
open the door. By this time, several of the terrified
domestics appeared with lights. A terrible spectacle
was presented to the young man's gaze: the door
deluged with blood-the mangled and lifeless body of
Mrs. Wood-Winifred fainted in the arms of a female
attendant—and Wood standing beside them almost in
a state of distraction. Thus, in a few minutes, had
this happy family been plunged into the depths of
misery. At this juncture, a cry was raised by a servant
from below, that the robbers were flying through the
garden. Darting to a window looking in that direc-
tion, Thames threw it up, and discharged both his
pistols, but without effect. In another minute, the
tramp of horses' feet told that the perpetrators of the
outrage had effected their escape.
III
Jack Sheppard's Quarrel with Jonathan Wild
SCARCELY an hour after the horrible occurrence just
related, as Jonathan Wild was seated in the audience-
chamber of his residence at the Old Bailey, occupied,
like Peachum (for whose portrait he sat), with his


JACK SHEPPARD
66
27
account-books and registers, he was interrupted by
the sudden entrance of Quilt Arnold, who annouaced
Jack Sheppard and Blueskin.
“Ah!” cried Wild, laying down his pen
and looking
up with a smile of satisfaction. “I was just thinking
of you, Jack. What news? Have you done the trick
at Dollis Hill ?—brought off the swag-eh?”
"No," answered Jack, flinging himself sullenly into
a chair; “ I've not.”
Why, how's this?” exclaimed Jonathan. “ Jack
Sheppard failed! I'd not believe it, if any one but
himself told me so.”
“I've not failed,” returned Jack angrily; "but we've
done too much.”
"I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. “Speak
plainly."
"Let this speak for me," said Sheppard, tossing a
heavy bag of money towards him. “You can generally
understand that language. There's more than I under-
took to bring. It has been purchased by blood !"
“What! have you cut old Wood's throat?” asked
Wild with great unconcern, as he took up the bag.
“If I had, you'd not have seen me here,” replied
Jack sullenly. “The blood that has been spilt is that
of his wife.”
“It was her own fault,” observed Blueskin moodily.
“She wouldn't let me go. I did it in self-defence.”
"I care not why you did it,” said Jack sternly.
“We work together no more.'
• Come, come, captain,” remonstrated Blueskin. "I
thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this
time. You know as well as I do that it was an accident."
“Accident or not,” rejoined Sheppard, “you're no
longer pal of mine."
“And so this is my reward for having made you
the tip-top cracksman you are," muttered Blueskin;
"to be warned off at a moment's notice, because I


JACK SHEPPARD
29
silenced a noisy woman. It's too hard. Think better
of it.”
“My mind's made up,” rejoined Jack coldly—"we
part to-night."
“I'll not go," answered the other. “I love you like
a son, and will follow you like a dog. You'd not know
what to do without me, and shan't drive me off.”
“Well!” remarked Jonathan, who had paid little
attention to the latter part of the conversation, “this
is an awkward business certainly; but we must do the
best we can in it. You must keep out of the way
till
it's blown over. I can accommodate you below.”
“I don't require it,” returned Sheppard. “I'm tired
of the life I'm leading. I shall quit it and go abroad.”
“I'll go with you,” said Blueskin.
“Before either of you go you will ask my permis-
sion,” said Jonathan coolly.
“How?” exclaimed Sheppard. “Do you mean to
say you will interfere-
“I mean to say this,” interrupted Wild, with con-
temptuous calmness, "that I'll neither allow you to
leave England nor the profession you've engaged in.
I wouldn't allow you to be honest even if you could be
80—which I doubt. You are my slave—and such yo
shall continue."
“Slave !" echoed Jack.
“ Dare to disobey,” continued Jonathan, “neglect
my orders, and I will hang you." Sheppard started to
his feet.
"Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with diffi-
culty. “It is time you should know whom you have
to deal with. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke
you have laid upon me.
I will neither stir hand nor
foot for you more. Attempt to molest me and I split.
You are more in my power than I am in yours. Jare
Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild any day."
“That he is," added Blueskin approvingly.


30
JACK SHEPPARD
Jonathan smiled contemptuously.
“ One motive alone shall induce me to go on with
you,” said Jack.
“What's that?" asked Wild.
"The youth whom you delivered to Van Galgebrok
-Thames Darrell-is returned ”
“Impossible !” cried Jonathan. “He was thrown
overboard, and perished at sea.
“He is alive,” replied Jack; “I have seen him, and
might have conversed with him if I had chosen. Now,
I know you can restore him to his rights if you choose.
Do so, and I am yours as heretofore."
“Humph !” exclaimed Jonathan.
“Your answer !” cried Sheppard. “Yes or No?”
“I will make no terms with you," rejoined Wild
sternly. “You have defied me, and shall feel my
power You have been useful to me, or I would not
have spared you thus long. I swore to hang you two
years ago, but I deferred my purpose."
“Deferred !” echoed Sheppard.
“Hear me out,” said Jonathan. “You came hither
under my protection, and you shall depart freely-nay
more, you shall have an hour's grace. After that time
I shall place my setters on your heels.”
"You cannot prevent my departure," replied Jack
dauntlessly, “and therefore your offer is no favour.
But I tell you, in return, I shall take no pains to hide
myself. If you want me you know where to find me.”
“ An hour,” said Jonathan, looking at his watch ;-
“ remember!”
“If you send for me to the Cross Shovels in the
Mint, where I'm going with Blueskin, I will surrender
myself without resistance,” returned Jack.
“ You will
spare
the officers a labour then,” rejoined
Jonatban.
“Can't I settle this business, captain?" muttered
Bluskin, drawing a pistol,


JACK SHEPPARD
31
“Don't harm him,” said Jack carelessly; "he dares
not do it.” So saying he left the room.
' Blueskin,” said Jonathan, as that worthy was about
to follow, “I advise you to remain with me.”
“No," answered the ruffian moodily. “If you arrest
him you must arrest me also.”
"As you will," said Jonathan, seating himself.
Jack and his comrade went to the Mint, where he
was joined by Edgeworth Bess, with whom he sat down
most unconcernedly to supper.
His revelry, however, was put an end to at the expira-
tion of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance
of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham
Mendez at their head. Jack, to the surprise of all his
companions, at once surrendered himself; but Blueskin
would have made a fierce resistance and attempted a
rescue, if he had not been ordered by his leader to
desist. He then made off. Edgeworth Bess, who
passed for Sheppard's wife, was secured. They were
hurried before a magistrate and charged by Jonathan
Wild with various robberies; but, as Jack Sheppard
stated that he had most important disclosures to make,
as well as charges to bring forward against his accuser,
he was committed with his female companion to the
New Prison in Clerkenwell for further examination.
IV
Jack Sheppard's Escape from the New Prison.
In consequence of Jack Sheppard's desperate character,
it was judged expedient by the keeper of the New
Prison to load him with fetters of unusual weight, and
to place him in a cell which, from its strength and
security, was called the Newgate Ward. The ward in


32
JACK SHEPPARD
which he was confined was about six yards in length,
and three in width, and in height might be about twelve
feet. The windows, which were about nine feet from
the floor, had no glass, but were secured by thick iron
bars, and an oaken beam Along the floor ran an iron
bar, to which Jack's chain was attached, so that he
could move along it from one end of the chamber to
the other. No prisoner except Edgeworth Bess was
placed in the same cell with him. Jack was in excel.
lent spirits; and by his wit, drollery, and agreeable
demeanour, speedily became a great favourite with the
turnkey, who allowed him every indulgence consistent
with his situation. The report of his detention caused
an immense sensation. Numberless charges were pre-
ferred against him; amongst others, information was
lodged of the robbery at Dollis Hill and murder of
Mrs. Wood, and a large reward offered for the appre-
hension of Blueskin ; and as, in addition to this, Jack
had threatened to impeach Wild, his next examination
was looked forward to with the greatest interest.
The day before this examination was appointed to
take place—the third of the prisoner's detention-an
old man, respectably dressed, requested permission to
see him. Jack's friends were allowed to visit him; but,
as he had openly avowed his intention of attempting
an escape, their proceedings were narrowly watched.
The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turn-
key, who remained near him during the interview. He
appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole
motive of his visit curiosity. After a brief conversation,
which Sheppard sustained with his accustomed liveli-
aess, the old man turned to Bess and addressed a few
words of commonplace gallantry to her. While this
was going on, Jack suddenly made a movement which
attracted the turnkey's attention ; and during that
interval the old man slipped some articles wrapped in
& wandkerchief into Bess's hands, who instantly secreted


JACK SHEPPARD
33
them in her bosom. The turnkey looked round the next
moment, but the maneuvre escaped his observation.
After a little further discourse the old man took his
departure. Left alone with Edgeworth Bess, Jack burst
into a loud laugh of exultation.
“Blueskin's a friend indeed,” he said: "His dis-
guise was capital; but I detected it in a moment.
Has he givenr you the tools ?”
"He has," eplied Bess, producing the handkerchief.
“Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents,
which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three
gimlets, and a piercer. "Jonathan Wild shall find it's
not easy to detain me. As sure as he's now living, I'll
pay him a visit in the Old Bailey before morning.
And then I'll pay off old scores. It's almost worth
while being sent to prison to have the pleasure of
escaping. I shall now be able to test my skill.”
And, running on in this way, he carefully concealed
the tools.
Whether the turnkey entertained any suspicions of
the old man, Jack could not tell, but that night he was
more than usually rigorous in his search; and having
carefully examined the prisoners, and finding nothing
to excite his suspicions, he departed tolerably satisfied.
As soon as he was certain he should be disturbed
no more, Jack set to work, and with the aid of the
file in less than an hour had freed himself from his
fetters. With Bess's assistance he then climbed up
to the window, which, as has just been stated, was
secured by iron bars of great thickness, crossed by a
stout beam of oak. The very sight of these impedi-
ments would have appalled a less courageous spirit
than Sheppard's—but nothing could daunt him. To
work then he went, and with wonderful industry
filed off two of the iron bars. Just as he completed
this operation, the file broke. The oaken beam,
pine inches in thickness, was now the sole but most


JACK SHEPPARD
35
without considerable risk, to draw up his female com-
papion Once over the iron spikes, Bess exhibited no
reluctance to be let down on the other side of the wall.
Having seen his mistress safe down, Jack instantly
descended, leaving the best part of his clothes, as a
memorial of bis flight, to the gaoler. And thus he
effected bis escape from the New Prison.
V
The Disguise.
In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence
Jack Sheppard had escaped-for, at this time, the
whole of the now thickly peopled district north of
Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching
out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington--and
about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel,
known as Black Mary's Hole. This spot, which still
retains its name, acquired the appellation from an old
crone who lived there, and who, in addition to a very
equivocal character for honesty, enjoyed the reputation
of being a witch. Without inquiring into the correct-
ness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient
to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack
Sheppard thought he could confide, and as Edgeworth
Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he de-
termined to leave her in the old woman's care till the
following night, while he shifted for himself and ful-
filled his design-for however rash or hazardous a
project might be, if once conceived, Jack always exe-
cuted it—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in
the Old Bailey.
It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-
Monday, the 25th of May 1724, when the remarkable


JACK SHEPPARD
37
over his brows, rode by at full speed. Another horse-
man followed quickly at the heels of the first; but,
just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his steed
missed its footing and fell. Either ignorant of the
accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman
pursued his way without even turning his head.
Conceiving the opportunity too favourable to be
lost, Jack sprang suddenly over the hedge, and before
the man, who was floundering on the ground with one
foot in the stirrup, could extricate himself from his
embarrassing position, secured his pistols, which he
drew from the holsters, and held them to his head.
The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly
recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted
to rise and draw his sword.
Dog !” thundered Sheppard, putting the muzzle
of the pistol so close to the janizary's ear, that the
touch of the cold iron made him start, “don't you
know me?”
“Blood and thunder !” exclaimed Quilt, opening
his eyes with astonishment. It can't be Captain
Sheppard ?"
"It is,” replied Jack, “and you had better have
met the devil on your road than me. Do you remember
what I said when you took me at the Mint four days
ago? I told you my turn would come.
It has come
- and sooner than you expected.'
“So I find, captain,” rejoined Quilt submissively :
“but you're too noble-hearted to take advantage of my
situation. Besides, I acted for others, and not for
myself.”
"I know it," replied Sheppard, "and therefore I
spare your life.”
“I was sure you wouldn't injure me, captain," re-
marked Quilt, in a wheedling tone, while he felt about
for his sword; "you're far too brave to strike a fallen
man."
K
66


38
JACK SHEPPARD
up,
"Ah! traitor !” cried Jack, who had noticed the
movement; “make such another attempt, and it shall
cost you your life.” So saying, he unbuckled the
belt to which the janizary's hanger was attached, and
fastened it to his own girdle. " And now," he con-
tinued sternly, was it your master who has just
ridden by ?”
"No," answered Quilt sullenly.
Who, then?" demanded Jack. "Speak, or I
fire!
“Well, if you will have it, it's Sir Rowland
Trenchard."
“Sir Rowland Trencbard !” echoed Jack, in amaze-
ment.
“What are you doing with him ?"
“It's a long story, captain, and I've no breath to
tell it-unless you choose to release me," rejoined
Quilt.
« Get then,” said Jack, freeing his foot from the
stirrup. "Now-begin."
Quilt, however, seemed unwilling to speak.
I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," con-
tinued Sheppard, again raising the pistol.
“Well, since you force me to betray my master's
secrets," replied Quilt sullenly, "I've ridden express to
Manchester to deliver a message to Sir Rowland.”
“Respecting Thames Darrell ?" observed Jack.
Why, how the devil did you happen to guess
that ?" cried the janizary.
“No matter,” replied Sheppard. "I'm glad to find
I'm right. You informed Sir Rowland that Thames
Darrell was returned ?"
"Exactly 80,” replied Quilt; "and he instantly
decided upon returning to London with me. We've
ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired, or you
wouldn't have mastered me so easily.”
"Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had
sucidenly occurred. “Now, sir, I'll trouble you for
66


JACK SHEPPARD
your coat. I've loſt mine on the spikes of the New
Prison, and must borrow yours.”
“Why, surely you can't be in earnest, captain. You
wouldn't rob Mr. Wild's chief janizary?”
“I'd rob Mr. Wild himself if I met him," retorted
Jack. “Come, off with it, sirrab, or I'll blow out your
brains, in the first place, and strip you afterwards."
* Well, rather than you should commit so great a
crime, captain, here it is," replied Quilt, handing him
the garment in question. Anything else ?"
“Your waistcoat."
“Zounds! captain, I shall get my death of cold. I
was in hopes you'd be content with
my
hat and wig.”
“I shall require them as well,” rejoined Sheppard,
" and
your
boots."
“My boots ! Fire and fury! They won't fit you ;
they are too large. Besides, how am I to ride home
without them !”
“Don't distress yourself,” returned Jack, "you shall
walk. Now," he added, as his commands were re-
luctantly obeyed, " help me on with them."
Quilt knelt down, as if he meant to comply; but,
watching his opportunity, he made a sudden grasp at
Sheppard's leg with the intention of overthrowing him.
But Jack was too nimble for him. Striking out his
foot, ho knocked half a dozen teeth down the janizary's
throat ; and, seconding the kick with a blow on the
head from the butt-end of the pistol, stretched him,
senseless and bleeding, on the ground.
“Like master, like man," observed Jack, as he rolled
the inanimate body to the side of the road.
“ From
Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what could be
expected but treachery?"
With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt
Arnold's clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes
80 as completely to conceal his features, slouched his
hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knces,


40
JACK SHEPPARD
and muffled himself up in the best way he could. OD
searching the coat, he found, amongst other matters, a
mask, a key, and a pocket-book. The latter appeared
to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by,
in the hope that they might turn out of importance in
a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the
thief-taker. He then mounted the jaded hack, which
had long since regained its legs, and was quietly
browsing the grass at the roadside, and, striking spurs
into its side, rode off. He had not proceeded far when
he encountered Sir Rowland, who, having missed his
attendant, had returned to look after him.
“What has delayed you?” demanded the knight
impatiently.
“My horse has had a fall,” replied Jack, assuming
to perfection--for he was a capital mimic—the tones
of Quilt Arnold. “It was some time before I could
get him to move.
I fancied I heard voices,” rejoined Sir Rowland.
“So did I," answered Jack; we had better move
on. This is a noted place for highwaymen.”
“I thought you told me that the rascal who has so
long been the terror of the town—Jack Sheppard-
was in custody.”
“So he is," returned Jack, “but there's no saying
how long he may remain so. Besides, there are greater
rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland.”
Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened
The pair then descended Saffron Hill,
threaded Field Lane, and, entering Holborn, passed
over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy
waters of Fleet Ditch, mounted Snow Hill, and soon
drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild's door. Aware
of Quilt Arnold's mode of proceeding, Jack instantly dis-
mounted, and, instead of knocking, opened the door with
a pass-key. The porter instantly made his appearance,
and Sheppard ordered him to take care of the horses.
his pace.


JACK SHEPPARD
41
“Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt ?”
asked the man, as he hastened to assist Sir Rowland
to dismount.
“Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive,” replied
Jack. “Is the governor within ?"
“Yes; you'll find him in the audience-chamber. He
has got Blueskin with him.”
"Ah, indeed! what's he doing here?" inquired Jack.
“Come to buy off Jack Sheppard, I suppose," replied
the fellow. “But it won't do. Mr. Wild has made
up his mind; and, when that's the case, all the per-
suasion on earth won't turn him. Jack will be tried
to-morrow; and as sure as my name's Obadiah Lemon,
he'll take up his quarters at the King's Head," pointing
to Newgate, "over the way.”.
"Well, we shall see,” replied Jack. "Look to the
horses, Obadiah. This way, Sir Rowland.”
As familiar as Quilt Arnold himself with every part
of Wild's mysterious abode, as well as with the ways
of its inmates, Jack, without a moment's hesitation,
took up a lamp that was burning in the hall, and led
his companion up the great stone stairs. Arrived at
the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a
stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud
voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he
represented—“Sir Rowland Trenchard.”
Jonathan, who was engaged in conversation with
Blueskin, instantly arose, and bowed with cringing
ceremoniousness to the knight. The latter haughtily
returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if ex-
hausted, into a chair.
“You've arrived sooner than I expected, Sir Row-
land,” observed the thief-taker. " Lost no time on
the road-eh? I didn't expect you till to-morrow at
the earliest. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss
this person. You've your answer, Blueskin," he added,
pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to de


42
JACK SHEPPARD
part, towards the door ; "it's useless to urge the matter
further, Jack is registered in the Black Book.”
“One word before I go,” urged Blueskin.
“Not a syllable," replied Wild. “If you talk as
long as an Old Bailey counsel, you'll not alter my
determination."
“Won't my life do as well as his ?” supplicated the
other.
“Humph!"exclaimed Jonathan doubtfully. "And
you would surrender yourself-ch?”
“ I'll surrender myself at once, if you'll engago to
bring him off! and you'll get the reward from old
Wood. It's two hundred pounds. Recollect that.”
“Faithful fellow ! murmured Jack. “I forgive
him his disobedience.”
“Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin.
“No," replied Wild ; "and I've only listened to your
absurd proposal, to see how far
your
insane attachment
to this dad would carry you.”.
"I do love him," cried Blueskin, "and that's the
long and short of it. I've taught bim all he can do,
and there isn't his fellow, and never will be again.
I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like
him. If you bang Jack Sheppard, you'll cut off the
flower o'the perfession. But I'll not believe it of you.
It's all very well to read bim a lesson, and teach him
obedience ;
but you've gone
far enough for that.”
“ Not quite,” rejoined the thief-taker significantly.
“Well,” growled Blueskin, "you've bad my offer.'
“And you my warning," retorted Wild. "Good-
night.”
Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as
the other passed him," wait without."
“Powers o' mercy !” cried Blueskin, starting.
“What's the matter?” demanded Jonathan barshly.
“Nothin'-nothin'," returned Blueskin; "only I
thought-


JACK SHEPPARD
43
“ You saw the hangman, no doubt,” said Jack.
• Take courage, man! it is only Quilt Arnold. Come,
aake yourself ecarce. Don't you see Mr. Wild's busy."
And then he added, in an undertone, “ Conceal your-
elf outside, and be within call.” Blueskin nodded,
ind left the room. Jack affected to close the door, but
left it slightly ajar.
“What did you say to him ?” inquired Jonathan
suspiciously.
“I advised him not to trouble you further about Jack
Sheppard," answered the supposed janizary.
“ He seems infatuated about the lad,” observed
Wild. “I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him
company. And now, Sir Rowland,” he continued,
turning to the knight, “to our own concerns.
long time since we met, eight years and more. I hope
you've enjoyed your health. 'Slife! you are wonder-
fully altered. I should scarcely have known you."
The knight was indeed greatly changed. Though
not much past the middle term of life, he seemed pre-
maturely stricken with old age. His frame was
wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his com-
plexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained
unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white.
His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as
ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire.
“I did not come hither to consult you as to the
state of my health, sir," he observed, displeased by
Jonathan's allusion to the alteration in his appear-
It's a
ance,
“True," replied Wild. “You were no doubt sur-
prised by the unlooked for intelligence I sent you on
your nephew's return?”
“Was it unlooked-for on your part?” demanded the
knight distrustfully.
"On my soul, yes,” rejoined Jonathan. “I should
as soon have expected the bones of Tom Sheppard to


44
JACK SHEPPARD
reunite themselves and walk out of that case, as Thames
Darrell to return. The skipper, Van Galgebrok,
affirmed to me-nay, gave me the additional testimony
of two of his crew —that he was thrown overboard.
But it appears he was picked up by fishermen, and
carried to France, where he has remained ever since,
and where it would have been well for him if he had
remained altogether."
“Have you seen him ?” asked Trenchard.
“I have," replied Wild ; "and nothing but the
evidence of my senses would have made me believe he
was living, after the positive assurance I received to
the contrary.
He is at present with Mr. Wood-
the person whom you may remember adopted him-
at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and it's a singular but
fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned,
that Mrs. Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin,
the fellow who just left the room, on the very night
of his return, as it has thrown the house into such
confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had
no time as yet for hostile movements.”
"And what course do you propose to pursue in
reference to him?" asked Sir Rowland.
“My plan is a very simple one,” rejoined the thief-
taker, smiling bitterly. “I would treat him as you
treated his father, Sir Rowland.”
“Murder him!” cried Trenchard, shuddering.
Ay, murder him, if you like the term,” returned
Wild. “I should call it putting him out of the way.
But, no matter how you phrase it, the end is the
same.
“I cannot consent to it,” replied Sir Rowland firmly.
"Since the sea has spared him, I will spare him. It
is in vain to struggle against the arm of fate. I will
shed no more blood."
“And perish upon the gibbet,” rejoined Jonathan
contemptuously.


JACK SHEPPARD
45
"Flight is still left me," replied Trenchard. “I
can escape to France.”
“And do you think I'll allow you to depart,” cried
Jonathan, in a menacing tone, "and compromise my
safety? No, no. We are linked together in this
matter, and must go through with it. You cannot
shall not retreat."
“Death and hell !” cried Sir Rowland, rising and
drawing his sword; “ do you think you can shackle
my free will, villain ?"
"In this particular instance I do, Sir Rowland,"
replied Jonathan calmly, “because you are wholly in
my power. But be patient; I am your fast friend.
Thames Darrell MUST die. Our mutual safety requires
it. Leave the means to me."
“More blood ! more blood !” cried Trenchard, pass-
ing his hand with agony across his brow. “ Shall I
never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch
the father with his bleeding breast and dripping
bair ?—the mother with her wringing hands and looks
of vengeance and reproach? And must another be
added to their number—their son? Horror! let me
be spared this new crime? And yet the gibbet-my
name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hang-
man! No, I cannot submit to that."
“I should think not," observed Jonathan, who had
some practice in the knight's moods, and knew how to
humour him. “It's a miserable weakness to be afraid
of bloodshed. The general who gives an order for
wholesale carnage never sleeps a wink the less soundly
for the midnight groans of his victims, and we should
deride him as a coward if he did. And life is much
the same, whether taken in battle, on the couch, or by
the roadside. Besides those whom I have slain with
my own hands, I've brought upwards of thirty persons
to the gallows. Most of their relics are in yonder
cases; but I don't remember that any of them have


46
JACK SHEPPARD
disturbed my rest. The mode of destruction makes
no difference.
It's precisely the same thing to me to
bid my janizaries cut Thames Darrell's throat, as to
order Jack Sheppard's execution.” As Jonatban said
this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol
“But to the point,” continued Wild, unconscious of
the peril in which the remark bad placed him-" to
the point. On the terms that procured your
liberation
from Newgate, I will free you from this vew danger."
“Those terms were the third of my estate,” observed
Trenchard bitterly
“What of that?" rejoined Jonathan. “Any price
was better than your head. If Thames Darrell escapes
you will lose both life and property."
True, true," replied the knight, with an agonised
look ; “there's no alternative."
"None whatever," rejoined Wild. "Is it a bargain?"
“Take half of my estate—take all-my life, if you
will-I am weary of it!" cried Trenchard passionately.
“No," replied Jonathan, “I'll not take you at your
word, as regards the latter proposition. We shall both,
I hope, live to enjoy our shares—long after Thames
Darrell is forgotten-ha! ha! A third of your estate
I accept. And as these things should always be treated
as matters of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum
of our arrangement.” And, as he spoke, he took up a
sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few lines upon it.
“Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards
Sir Rowland.
The knight mechanically complied with his request.
Enough !” cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the
memorandum. “And now, in return for your liber-
ality, I'll inform you of a secret with which it in
important you should be acquainted."
“A secret!” exclaimed Trenchard. Concerning
whom?"
"Mrs. Sheppard," replied Jonathan mysteriously.


JACK SHEPPARD.
47
6 My
"Mrs. Sheppard !" echoed Jack, surprised out of
his caution.
“Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his
supposed attendant.
“I beg pardon, sir," replied Jack, with the accent
and manner of the janizary; "I was betrayed into the
exclamation by my surprise that anything in which
Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have
reference to so humble a person as Mrs. Sheppard."
“Be pleased, then, in future, not to let your surprise
find vent in words,” rejoined Jonathan sternly.
servants, like Eastern mutes, must have eyes, and ears
—and hands, if need be--but no tongues. You under-
stand me, sirrah ?”
“Perfectly,” replied Jack. “I'm dumb."
“ Your secret ?" demanded Trenchard impatiently.
“I need not remind you, Sir Rowland,” replied
Wild, “that you had two sisters--Aliva and Constance."
“Both are dead," observed the knight gloomily.
“Not so," answered Wild. “Constance is yet
living."
“ Constance alive! Impossible !” ejaculated Tron-
chard.
"I've proofs to the contrary,” replied Jonathan.
“If this is the case, where is she?”
“In Bedlam," replied the thief-taker with a Satanic
grin.
“Gracious Heaven !” exclaimed the knight, upon
whom a light seemed suddenly to break. You men-
tioned Mrs. Sheppard. What has she to do with
Constance Trenchard ?"
"Mrs. Sheppard is Constance Trenchard,” replied
Jonathan maliciously.
Here Jack Sheppard was unable to repress an ex-
clamation of astonishment.
“ Again," cried Jonathan sternly: “ beware!
“What?” vociferated Trenchard. “My sister the
:


48
JACK SHEPPARD
wife of one condemned felon ! the parent of another !
It cannot be.”
“It is so, nevertheless,” replied Wild. “Stolen by
a gipsy when scarcely five years old, Constance Tren-
chard, after various vicissitudes, was carried to London,
where she lived in great poverty, with the dregs of
society. It is useless to trace out her miserable
career; though I can easily do so if you require it.
To preserve herself, however, from destitution, or
what she considered worse, she wedded a journeyman
carpenter, named Sheppard."
“Alas! that one so highly born should submit to
such a degradation !” groaned the knight.
“I see nothing surprising in it,” rejoined Jonathan.
“In the first place she had no knowledge of her birth;
and, consequently, no false pride to get rid of. In
the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by
temptations of which you can form no idea. Distress
like hers might palliate far greater offences than she
ever committed. With the same inducements we
should all do the same thing. Poor girl! She was
beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care
little for the allurements of women, fancy myself
enamoured of her."
Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was
only withheld from levelling it at the thief-taker's
head, by the hope that he might gather some further
information respecting his mother. And he had good
reason before long to congratulate himself on his for-
bearance.
“What proof have you of the truth of this story?”
inquired Trenchard.
"This," replied Jonathan, taking a paper from *
portfolio, and handing it to the knight, “this written
evidence, signed by Martha Cooper, the gipsy, by
whom the girl was stolen, and who was afterwards
executed for a similar crime. It is attested, you will


JACK SHEPPARD
49
observe, by the Reverend Mr. Purney, the present
ordinary of Newgate.”
“I am acquainted with Mr. Purney's handwriting,"
said Jack, advancing, “and can at once decide whether
this is a forgery or not."
“Look at it, then,” said Wild, giving him the
portfolio.
"It's the ordinary's signature, undoubtedly,” replied
Jack.
And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland
he contrived, unobserved, to drop the precious docu-
ment into his sleeve, and from thence into his
pocket.
“And does any of our bright blood flow in the veins
of a ruffianly housebreaker ?” cried Trenchard, with a
look of bewilderment. “I'll not believe it."
“Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring.
" Thank Heaven! I'm not basely born.
“Now, mark me," said Jonathan, "and you'll find
I don't do things by halves. By your father, Sir
Montacute Trenchard's will, you are aware—and,
therefore, I need not repeat it, except for the special
purpose I have in view—you are aware, I say, that by
this will, in case your sister Aliva died without issue,
or on the death of such issue, the property reverts to
Constance and her issue."
“I hear,” said Sir Rowland moodily.
“And I,” muttered Jack.
“Thames Darrell once destroyed," pursued Jonathan,
“Constance-or rather Mrs. Sheppard—becomes en-
titled to the estates; which eventually-provided he
escapes the gallows—would descend to her son.”
"Ha!” exclaimed Jack, drawing in his breath, and
leaning forward with intense curiosity.
“Well, sir?” gasped Sir Rowland.
“But this need give you no uneasiness,” pursued
Jonathan. “Mrs. Sheppard, as I told you, is in


50
JACK SHEPPARD
Bedlam, an incurable maniac; while her son is in the
New Prison, whence he will only be removed to New-
gate and Tyburn."
* So you think,” muttered Jack between his ground
teeth.
“To make your mind perfectly easy on the score
of Mrs. Sheppard," continued Jonathan; "after we've
disposed of Thames Darrell, I'll visit her in Bedlam;
and, as I understand I form one of her chief terrors,
I'll give her such a fright that I'll engage she shan't
long survive it.”
"Devil !" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol.
But, feeling secure of vengeance, he determined to
abide his time.
"And now, having got rid of the minor obstacles,"
said Jonathan, “I'll submit a plan for the removal of
the main difficulty. Thames Darrell, I've said, is at
Mr. Wood's at Dollis Hill, wholly unsuspicious of any
designs against him, and, in fact, entirely ignorant of
your being acquainted with his return, or even of his
existence. In this state it will be easy to draw him
into a snare. To-morrow nightmor rather to-night,
for we are fast verging on another day-I propose to
lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am
sure will prove infallible; and then, what so easy as
to knock him on the head. To make sure work of it,
I'll superintend the job myself. Before midnight, I'll
answer for it, it shall be done. My janizaries shall
go with me. You hear what I say, Quilt ?” he added,
looking at Jack.
“I do,” replied Sheppard.
“ Abraham Mendez will like the task-for he has
entertained a hatred to the memory of Thames Darrell
ever since he received the wound in the head, when
the two lads attempted to break out of Saint Giles's
Roundhouse. I've despatched him to the New Prison.
But I expect him back every minute.”


JACK SHEPPARD
51
“ The Now Prison !” exclaimed Sheppard. "What
is he gone there for ?"
“ With a message to the turnkey to look after his
prisoner,” replied Wild with a cunning smile. "Jack
Sheppard had a visitor, I understand, yesterday, and
may make an attempt to escape. It's as well to be on
the safe side."
“It is,” replied Jack.
At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound
of footsteps on the stairs. He drew both his pistols,
and prepared for a desperate encounter.
“There is another mystery I would have solved,"
said Trenchard, addressing Vild; "you have told me
much, but not enough.”
“What do you require further ?” asked Jonathan.
“The name and rank of Thames Darrell's father,”
said the knight.
“Another time," replied the thief-taker evasively.
"I will have it now," rejoined Trenchard, “or our
agreement is void."
“You cannot help yourself, Sir Rowland,” replied
Jonathan contemptuously.
“Indeed !” replied the knight, drawing his sword ;
“the secret, villain, or I will force it from you.” Before
Wild could make any reply, the door was thrown
violently open, and Abraham Mendez rushed into the
room with a face of the utmost consternation.
“He hash eshcaped !” cried the Jew.
“Who? Jack ?” exclaimed Jonathan.
“Yesh," replied Abraham. “I vent to de New
Prish'n, and on wishitin' his shell vid de turnkey, vot
should ve find but de shains on the ground, de vinder
broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone."
Damnation !” cried Jonathan, stamping his foot
with uncontrollable rage. “I'd rather have given a
thousand pounds than this had happened. But he
might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over


52
JACK SHEPPARD
the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. Did you search
the yard, fool ?”
“Ve did,” replied Abraham ; "and found his fine
goat and ruffles torn to shtrips on de shpikes near the
creat cate. It vosh plain he vent dat vay.” Jonathan
gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. While he
thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt
Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed.
“ 'Sblood! what's this?” cried Jonathan, in the
utmost surprise. “Quilt Arnold, is that you ?"
“It is, sir,” sputtered the japizary. “I've been
robbed, maltreated, and nearly murdered by Jack
Sheppard."
“By Jack Sheppard !” exclaimed the thief-taker
“Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance
upon him," said Quilt.
“I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined
Wild.
“ You needn't go far to do that,” returned Quilt;
“there he stands."
Ay, here I am,” said Jack, throwing off his hat
and wig, and marching towards the group; amongst
whom there was a general movement of surprise at
his audacity. “Sir Rowland, I salute you as your
nephew.”
Back, villain!” said the knight haughtily.
disown you. The whole story of your relationship is
a fabrication”
“ Time will show," replied Jack with equal haughti-
“But, however it may turn out, I disown you."
"Well, Jack,” said Jonathan, who had looked at him
with surprise, not unmixed with admiration, "you are
a bold and clever fellow, I must allow. Were I not
Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. I'm almost
sorry I've sworn to hang you; but it can't be helped.
I'm a slave to my word. Were I to let you go, you'd
say I feared you. Besides, you've secrets which must
ness.


JACK SHEPPARD
53
66
not be disclosed Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack,
you are my prisoner.”
“And you latter yourself you can detain me?”
laughed Jack
“At least I'll try,” replied Jonathan sarcastically,
“ You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for,
if you get out of this place."
“What ho! Blueskin!” shouted Jack.
“Here I am, captain,” cried a voice from without.
And the door was suddenly thrown open, and the two
janizaries felled to the ground by the strong arm of the
stalwart robber.
“Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr.
Wild,” said Sheppard. Adieu, my worthy uncle.
Fortunately, I've secured the proof of my birth.”
“ Confusion !” thundered Wild. “ Close the doors
below! Loose the dogs! Curses !—they don't hear
me! I'll ring the alarum-bell.” And he raised his
arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when
a ball from Jack's pistol passed through the back of his
hand, shattering the limb. “Aha! my lad !” he cried,
without appearing to regard the pain of the wound,
now I'll show you no quarter.” And with the un-
injured hand, he drew a pistol, which he fired, but
without effect, at Jack.
“Fly, captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't
be able to keep these devils down. Fly! They shall
knock me on the head-curse 'em !-before they shall
touch you."
“Come along !” cried Jack, darting through the door.
"The key's on the outside-quick !-quick!”
Instantly alive to this chance, Blueskin broke away.
Two shots were fired at him by Jonathan; one of which
passed through his hat, and the other through the fleshy
part of his arm; but he made good his retreat. The
door was closed —locked--and the pair were heard
descending the stairs,


54.
JACK SHEPPARD
“Hell's curses !” roared Jonathan. “They'll escape.
Not a moment is to be lost.
So saying, he took hold of a ring in the floor, and
disclosed a flight of steps, down which he hurried,
followed by the janizaries. This means of communica-
tion instantly brought them to the lobby; but Jack
and his companion were already gone. Jonathan threw
open the street door. Upon the pavement near the
court lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a
blow from the butt-end of a pistol. The man, who
was just able to move, pointed towards Giltspur Street.
Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the
fugitives riding off in triumph.
"To-night it is their turn,” said Jonathan, binding up
his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. “To-morrow
it will be mine."
VI
Winifred receives Two Proposals.
THE tragical affair at Dollis Hill, it need scarcely be
said, was a dreadful blow to the family. Mr. Wood
bore up with great fortitude against the shock, attended
the inquest, delivered his evidence with composure, and
gave directions afterwards for the funeral, which took
place on the day but one following-Sunday.
As soon, however, as the last solemn rites were over,
and the remains of the unfortunate woman committed
to their final resting-place in Willesden churchyard,
his firmness completely deserted him, and be sank
beneath the weight of his affliction. It was fortunate
that by this time Winifred had so far recovered as
to be able to afford her father the best and only solace
that, under the circumstances, he could have received
- her personal attentions,


56
JACK SHEPPARD
own,
ceremony was Mr. Kneebone. Conceiving himself
called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased,
to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he
appeared as one of the chief mourners. Overcome by
his affliction, Mr. Wood had retired to his own room,
where he had just summoned Thames, Much to her
annoyance, therefore, Winifred was left alone with
the woollen-draper, who, following up a maxim of his
“that nothing was gained by too much bashful-
ness," determined to profit by the opportunity. He
had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs.
Wood, from pressing his suit long ago. Tbis obstacle
removed, he thought he might now make the attempt.
Happen what might, he could not be in a worse
position.
“We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he
began-"for I must use the privilege of an old friend,
and address you by that familiar name—we bave bad
a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose
memory
I shall for ever revere."
Winifred's eyes filled with tears. This was not
exactly what the woollen-draper desired. So he re-
solved to try another tack.
“What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed,
applying to his spuff-box, “that Thames Darrell, whom
we all supposed dead"-Kneebone in his heart sincerely
wished he had been so_"should turn out to be alive
after all. Strange I shouldn't know him when he
called on me.
“It is strange," replied Winifred artlessly. "I knew
him at once.
“Of course," rejoined Kneebone, a little maliciously;
“but that's easily accounted for. May I be permitted,
as a very old and very dear friend of your lamented
parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore, to ask you one
question ?"
"Undoubtedly," replied Winifred.
22


JACK SHEPPARD
57
si And
you will answer it frankly?”
“Certainly."
“Now for it," thought the woollen-draper. "I
shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies. Well, then,
my dear," he added aloud, “ do you still entertain the
strong attachment you did to Captain Darrell ? "
Winifred's cheeks glowed with blushes, and fixing
her eyes, which flashed with resentment, upon
the
questioner, she said
“I have promised to answer your question, and I
will do so.
I love him as a brother."
Only as a brother ?" persisted Kneebone.
If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have
disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-
draper.
"If you knew how much importance I attach to
your answer,” he continued passionately, “ you would
not refuse me one. Were Captain Darrell to offer you
his hand, would you accept it ? ”
“ Your impertinence deserves very different treat-
ment, sir,” said Winifred ; " but to put an end to this
annoyance, I will tell you, I would not.”
* And why not?” asked Kneebone eagerly.
“I will not submit to be thus interrogated,” said
Winifred angrily.
"lo the name of your lamented parent, whose
memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer
me," urged Kneebone. "Why-why would you not
accept him?"
“Because our positions are different," replied
Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her
feelings.
“ You are a paragon of prudence and discretion,”
rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer
to hers. “Disparity of rank is ever productive of
unhappiness in the married state. When Captain
Darrell's birth is ascertained, I've no doubt he'll turn


58
JACK SHEPPARD
out a nobleman's son. At least, I hope so, for his sake
as well as my own,” he added mentally. "He has
quite the air of one. And now, my angel, that I am
acquainted with your sentiments on this subject, I
shall readily fulfil a promise which I made to your
lamented parent, whose loss I shall ever deplore."
"A promise to my mother?” said Winifred un-
suspiciously
'Yes, my angel, to her--rest her soul! She extorted
it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it."
“Oh! name it.”
“You are a party concerned. Promise me that you
will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory
we must both of us ever revere. Promise me.”
“If in my power-certainly. But, what is it? What
did you promise ?”
"To offer you my heart, my hand, my life,” replied
Kneebone, falling at her feet.
“Sir!"exclaimed Winifred, rising.
“Inequality of rank can be no bar to our union,"
continued Kneebone. “Heaven be praised, I am not
the son of a nobleman.”
In spite of her displeasure, Winifred could not help
smiling at the absurdity of this address. Taking this
for encouragement, her suitor proceeded still more
extravagantly. Seizing her hand, he covered it with
kisses.
“Adorable girl!” he cried in the most impassioned
tone, and with the most impassioned look he could
command. “Adorable girl, I have long loved you to
desperation. Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall
ever deplore, perceived my passion, and encouraged it.
Would she were alive to back my suit !”
“This is beyond all endurance," said Winifred,
striving to withdraw her hand. “Leave me, sir; I
insist.”
“Never !” rejoined Kneebone, with increased ardoar


JACK SHEPPARD
59
never, till I receive from your own lips the answer
which is to make me the happiest or the most miserable
of mankind. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not
the extent of my devotion. No mercenary considera-
tion influences me. Love-admiration for
your
match-
less beauty alone sways me. Let your father, if he
chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. I
care not. Possessed of you, I shall have a treasure
such as kings could not boast.”
“Pray cease this nonsense,” said Winifred, “and
quit the room, or I will call for assistance.”
At this juncture, the door opened, and Thames
entered the room. As the woollen-draper's back was
towards him, he did not perceive him, but continued
his passionate addresses.
"Call as you please, beloved girl," he cried, "I will
not stir till I am answered. You say that you only
love Captain Darrell as a brother-
“Mr. Kneebone !"
“That you would not accept him were he to offer"
“Be silent, sir !”
"He, then," continued the woollen-draper, "is no
longer considered
“How, sir," said Thames, advancing; "what is the
meaning of your reference to my name? Have you
dared to insult this lady?
"Insult her!” replied Kneebone, rising, and endea-
vouring to hide his embarrassment under a look of
defiance. "Far from it, sir. I have made her an
honourable proposal of marriage, in compliance with
the request of her lamented parent, whose memory-
“Dare to utter that falsehood in my hearing again,
scoundrel,” interrupted Thames fiercely, "and I will
put it out of your power to repeat the offence. Leave
the room ! leave the house, sir! and enter it again at
your peril."
"I sball do neither, sir," replied Kneebone, "unless
If so
"


60
JACK SHEPPARD
"
I am requested by this lady to withdraw-in which
case I shall comply with her request. And you have
to thank her presence, hot-headed boy, that I do not
chastise your insolence as it deserves.”
“Go, Mr. Kneebone-pray go !” implored Winifred.
“Thames, I entreat-
“Your wishes are my laws, beloved girl," replied
Kneebone, bowing profoundly. “Captain Darrell,” he
added sternly, "you shall hear from me.”
“When you please, sir," said Thames coldly.
And the woollen-draper departed.
"What is all this, dear Winny?" inquired Thames,
as soon as they were alone.
“Nothing-nothing,” she answered, bursting into
tears. “ Don't ask me about it now."
“Winny," said Thames tenderly, "something which
that self-sufficient fool has said has so far done me a
service in enabling me to speak upon a subject which
I have long had upon my lips, but have not had
courage to utter."
“ Thames !”
* You seem to doubt my love,” he continued—"you
seem to think that change of circumstances may pro
duce some change in my affections. Hear me then,
now, before I take one step to establish my origin, or
secure my rights. Whatever those rights may be, who
ever I am, my heart is
yours. Do you accept it?”
“Dear Thames !
“Forgive this ill-timed avowal of my love. But
Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?”
“It is-it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred,
falling upon his neck.
Lovers' confidences should be respected. We close
the chapter.
answer me.


JACK SHEPPARD
61
VII
Jack Sheppard warns Thames Darrell.
On the following night-namely, Monday—the family
assembled together, for the first time since the fatal
event, in the chamber to which Thames had been
introduced on his arrival at Dollis Hill. As this had
been Mrs. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her
image was so intimately associated with it, neither
the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage
to enter it before.
Determined, however, to conquer the feeling as
soon as possible, Wood had given orders to have the
evening meal served there; but, notwithstanding all
his good resolutions, upon his first entrance he had
much ado to maintain his self-command. His wife's
portrait had been removed from the walls, and the
place it had occupied was only to be known by the
cord by which it had been suspended. The very
blank, however, affected him more deeply than if it
had been left. Then a handkerchief was thrown over
the cage, to prevent the bird from singing ; it was her
favourite canary. The flowers upon the mantelshelf
were withered and drooping-she had gathered them.
All these circumstances—slight in themselves, but
powerful in their effect_touched the heart of the
widowed carpenter, and added to his depression.
Supper was over. It had been discussed in silence.
The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table
as near the window as possible--for it was getting
dusk-put on his spectacles and opened that sacred
volume from which the best consolation in affliction
is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may
now be fairly termed — to their own conversation.


62
JACK SHEPPARD
Having already expressed our determination not to
betray any confidences of this sort, which, however
interesting to the parties concerned, could not pos-
sibly be so to others, we shall omit also the “love
passages," and proceeding to such topics as may have
general interest, take up the discourse at the point
when Thames Darrell expressed his determination of
starting for Manchester as soon as Jack Sheppard's
examination had taken place.
“I am surprised we have received no summons for
attendance to-day,” he remarked ; “perhaps the other
robber
may
be secured.”
“Or Jack have escaped,” remarked Winny.
“I don't think that's likely. But, this sad affair
disposed of, I will not rest till I have avenged my
murdered parent."
“The avenger of blood himself shall slay the mur-
derer,'” said Wood, who was culling for himself certain
texts from the Scriptures.
"It is the voice of inspiration," said Thames; "and
I receive it as a solemn command. The villain has
enjoyed his security too long."
« Bloody and deceitful men shall not live half their
days,'” said Wood, reading aloud another passage.
“And yet, he has been spared thus long; perhaps
with a wise purpose,” rejoined Thames. “But, though
the storm has spared him, I will not."
“ No doubt,'” said Wood, who had again turned
over the leaves of the sacred volume-". no doubt this
man is a murderer, whom, though he escaped the seas,
yet vengeance suffereth not to live.”
“No feelings of consanguinity shall stay my ven-
geance,” said Thames sternly. “I will have no satis-
faction but his life.”
“Thou shalt take no satisfaction for the life of a
murderer which is guilty of death, but he shall surely
be put to death,'' said Wood, referring to another text.


JACK SHEPPARD
63
"Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames,"
interposed Winifred.
«. And thine eye shall not pity,'” said her father in a
tone of rebuke; "obut life shall be for life, eye for eye,
tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot.
As these words were delivered by the carpenter with
stern emphasis, a female servant entered the room and
stated that a gentleman was at the door who wished to
speak with Captain Darrell on business of urgent im-
portance.
« With me?” said Thames. “Who is it?"
“He didn't give his name, sir," replied the maid;
but he's a young gentleman.
“Don't go near him, dear Thames,” said Winifred ;
"he may have some ill intention.”
“Pshaw!” cried Thames. “ What! refuse to see
a person who desires to speak with me. Say I will
come to him.”
“Law! miss," observed the maid, "there's nothing
mischievous in the person's appearance, I'm sure.
He's as nice and civil-spoken a gentleman as need
be; by the same token,” she added in an undertone,
“that he gave me a span new crown piece."
T'he thief cometh in the night, and the troop of
robbers spoileth without,'” said Wood, who had a text
for every emergency.
"Lor' ha'
mussy,
sir--how
you do talk," said the
woman; “this is no robber, I'm sure. I should have
known at a glance if it was. He's more like a lord
than
As she spoke steps were heard approaching; the
door was thrown open, and a young man marched
boldly into the room.
The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired
in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad
belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his
shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he


64
JACK SHEPPARD
carried a laced hat in his hand. Advancing to the
middle of the chainber, he halted, drew himself up,
and fixed his dark expressive eyes on Thames Darrell.
His appearance excited the greatest astonishment and
consternation amid the group. Winifred screamed.
Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword,
while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself
that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a
tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of
surprise-
Jack Sheppard !"
" Jack Sheppard !" echoed the maid. “Is this Jack
Sheppard ? Oh, la! I'm undone! We shall all have
our throats cut! Oh! oh!”
And she rushed screaming into the passage, where
she fell down in a fit.
The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, mean-
while, remained perfectly motionless; his figure erect,
and with somewhat of dignity in his demeanour. He
kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as if
awaiting to be addressed.
"Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as
soon as his surprise would allow him utte rance.
you have contrived to break out of your confinement,
villain, this is the last place where you ought to show
yourself."
“And therefore the first I would visit,” replied Jack
boldly. "But pardon my intrusion. I was resolved
And fearing you might not come to me, I
forced my way hither, even with certainty of discom-
posing your friends.”
“Well, villain !” replied Thames, “I know not
the motive of your visit. But if you have come to
surrender yourself to justice, it is well. You cannot
depart hence.”
"Cannot ?" echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his
features. “But let that pass. My motive in coming
is If
to see you.


JACK SHEPPARD
65
.
hither is to serve you, and save your life. If you
choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at
liberty to do so. I shall make no defence. That I
am not ignorant of the reward offered for my capture
this will show," he added, taking a large placard
headed “Murder” from his pocket, and throwing it
on the floor. “My demeanour ought to convince you
that I came with no hostile intention. And, to show
you I have no intention of flying, I will myself close
and lock the door. There is the key. Are you now
satisfied ?"
"No," interposed Wood furiously; “I shall never
be satisfied till I see you hanged on the highest gibbet
at Tyburn."
A time may come when you will be gratified, Mr.
Wood,' replied Jack calmly.
May come it will come ! it shall come !" cried
the carpenter, shaking his hand menacingly at him.
"I have some difficulty in preventing myself from
becoming your executioner. Oh! that I should have
nursed such a viper!”
"Hear me, sir," said Jack.
"No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood.
“I am no murderer," replied Sheppard. “I had no
thought of injuring your wife, and would have died
ratber than commit so foul a crime."
“Think not to delude me, audacious wretch,” cried
the carpenter.
“Even if you are not a principal, you
are an accessory.
If
you
had not brought your com-
panion here, it would not have happened. But you
sball swing, rascal-you shall swing."
"My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence,"
replied Jack humbly. “But the past is irremediable,
and I did not come bither to exculpate myself. I
came to save your life," he added, turning to Thames.
“I was not aware it was in danger," rejoined
Darrell.


66
JACK SHEPPARD
" Read
“Then you ought to be thankful to me for the
warning. You are in danger.”
From some of
your associates."
“From your uncle, from my uncle--Sir Rowland
Trenchard.”
“What means this idle boasting, villain ?” said
Thames. “ Your uncle—Sir Rowland ?”
“It is no idle boasting,” replied the other. " You
are cousin to the housebreaker, Jack Sheppard."
“If it were so, he would have great reason to be
proud of the relationship, truly," observed Wood,
shrugging his shoulders.
“It is easy to make an assertion like this," said
Thames contemptuously.
“And equally easy to prove it,” replied Jack, giving
him the paper he had abstracted from Wild.
that.”
Thames hastily cast his eyes over it, and transferred
it, with a look of incredulity, to Wood.
“Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than
all the rest,” cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes.
Thames, this is no forgery.'
You believe it, father ?”.
“From the bottom of my heart. I always thought
Mrs. Sheppard superior to her station."
“So did I," said Winifred. “Let me look at the
paper.”
"Poor soul !-poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing
the tears from his vision. Well, I'm glad she's spared
this. Oh! Jack, Jack, you've much to answer for!”.
“I have, indeed," replied Sheppard, in a tone of
contrition.
“If this document is correct," continued Wood," and
I am persuaded it is so, you are as unfortunate as
wicked. See what your misconduct has deprived you
of-see what you might have been. This is retribution.”
“I feel it,” replied Jack, in a tone of agony; "and


JACK SHEPPARD
67
I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my
own.”
“She has suffered enough for you,” said Wood.
“She has, she has,” said Jack, in a broken voice.
“Weep on, reprobate,” cried the carpenter, a little
softencd 66 Those tears will do you good.”
“Do not distress him, dear father,” said Winifred ;
"he suffers deeply, Ob, Jack! repent, while it is yet
time, of your evil conduct. I will pray for you.”
“I cannot repent-I cannot pray,” replicd Jack,
recovering his bardened demeanour. "I should never
have been what I am but for you.”
"How so?" inquired Winifred.
“I loved you," replied Jack. “Don't start-it is
uver now I loved
you,
I
say, as a boy, hopelessly, and
It made me desperate. And now I find, when it is too
late, that I might have deserved you—that I am as well
born as Thames Darrell. But I mustn't think of these
things, or I shall grow mad. I have said your life
is in danger, Thames. Do not slight my warning. Sir
Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to Eng-
land. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's after
my escape from the New Prison. He had just arrived
from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by
that treacherous thief-taker. I overheard them planning
your assassination.
It is to take place to-night.”
“Oh, Heavens !” screamed Winifred, while her father
lifted up his hands in silent horror.
“And when I further tell you," continued Jack,
" that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next
heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute
Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is
sufficiently disinterested.”
“Could I credit your wild story, I might do so,"
returned Thames, with a look of perplexity.
“ Here are Jonathan Wild's written instructions to
Quilt Arnold,” rejoined Sheppard, producing the pocket-
66


68
JACK SHEPPARD
book he had found in the janizary's clothes. “This
letter will vouch for me that a communication has
taken place between your enemies."
Thames glanced at the despatch, and, after a moment's
reflection inquired, “In what way is the attempt upon
my life to be made ?”
“That I couldn't ascertain,” replied Jack; " but I
advise you to be upon your guard. For aught I know,
they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment."
“Here!” ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm.
“Oh Lord! I hope not.”
“This I do know," continued Jack-"Jonathan Wild
superintends the attack.”
"Jonathan Wild!" repeated the carpenter, trembling.
“ Then it's all over with us. Oh, dear !--how sorry I am
I ever left Wych Street. We may be all murdered in
this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser."
“ There's some one in the garden at this moment,"
cried Jack; “I saw a face at the window.”
• Where-where?” cried Thames.
“Don't stir," replied Jack. “I will at once convince
you of the truth of my assertions, and ascertain whether
the enemy is really at hand.”
So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw
open the sash, and called out in the voice of Thames
Darrell-
“Who's there?”
He was answered by a shot from a pistok The ball
passed over his head, and lodged in the ceiling:
“I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if
nothing bad happened. “It is Jonathan. Your uncle
our uncle is with him. I saw them both."
· May I trust you ?” cried Thames eagerly.
“You may," replied Jack. “I'll fight for you to the
last gasp.”
“Follow me, then,” cried Thames, drawing his sword,
and springing through the window,


JACK SHEPPARD
69
"To the world's end," answered Jack, darting after
him.
“Thames! Thames !” cried Winifred, rushing to the
window. “He will be murdered !-Help!”
My child ! my love !" cried Wood, dragging her
forcibly back.
Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of
swords was heard below. After some time, the scuffle
grew more and more distant, until nothing could be
heard. Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-
servants, and having armed them with such weapons
as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where
the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell
extended on the ground, and weltering in his blood.
Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants they could not
discover a single trace. As the body was borne to the
house in the arms of the farming-men, Mr. Wood fancied
he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild.
VIII
Old Bedlam.
WHEN Thames Darrell and Jack Sheppard sprang
through the window, they were instantly assailed by
Wild, Trenchard, and their attendants. Jack attacked
Jonathan with such fury, that he drove him into a
shrubbery, and might perhaps have come off the victor,
if his foot had not slipped as he made a desperate lunge.
In this state it would have been all over with him, as,
being stunned with the fall, it was some moments before
he could recover himself, if another party had not un-
expectedly come to his rescue. This was Blueskin, who
burst through the trees, and, sword in hand, assaulted
tha thief-taker, As soon as Jack gained his legs, he
L


70
JACK SHEPPARD
perceived Blueskin lying, as he thought, dead, in the
plantation, with a severe cut across his temples, and
while he was stooping to assist him, he heard groans
at a little distance. Hastening in the direction of the
sound, he discovered Thames Darrell stretched upon
the ground.
“Are you hurt, Thames?” asked Jack anxiously
“Not dangerously, I hope," returned Thames ; - but
fly-save yourself.'
“Where are the assassins ?" cried Sheppard.
“Gone,” replied the wounded man. "They imagine
their work is done. But I may yet live to thwart
them.”
“I will carry you to the house, or fetch Mr. Wood,"
urged Jack.
No, no," rejoined Thames; "fly-or I will not
answer for your safety. If you desire to please me
you will go.'
“And leave you thus ?" rejoined Jack. “I cannot
do it.”
“Go, I insist,” cried Thames, or take the conse-
quences upon yourself. I cannot protect you."
Thus urged, Jack reluctantly departed. Hastening
to the spot where he had tied his horse to a tree, he
vaulted into the saddle, and rode off across the fields---
for he was fearful of encountering the hostile party-
till he reached the Edgeware Road. Arrived at Pad-
dington, he struck across Marylebone Fields--for as yet
the New Road was undreamt of-and never moderated
his speed until he reached the city. His destination
was the New Mint. At this place of refuge, situated
in the heart of Wapping, near the river-side, he arrived
in less than an hour, in a complete state of exhaustion.
In consequence of the infamous abuse of its liberties,
an Act for the entire suppression of the Old Mint was
passed in the ninth year of the reign of George the
First, not many months before the date of the present
6


JACK SHEPPARD
71
epoch of this history; and as, after the destruction of
Whitefriars, which took place in the reign of Charles
the Second, owing to the protection afforded by its
inmates to the Levellers and Fifth-monarchy-men, when
the inhabitants of Alsatia crossed the water, and settled
themselves in the borough of Southwark—so now,
driven out of their fastnesses, they again migrated, and
recrossing the Thames, settled in Wapping, in a miser-
able quarter between Artichoke Lane and Nightingale
Lane, which they termed the New Mint. Ousted from
his old retreat, the Cross Shovels, Baptist Kettleby
opened another tavern, conducted upon the same plan
as the former, which he denominated the Seven Cities
of Refuge. His subjects, however, were no longer en-
tirely under his control; and though he managed to
enforce some little attention to his commands, it was
evident his authority was waning fast. Aware that
they would not be allowed to remain long unmolested,
the New Minters conducted themselves so outrageously,
and with such extraordinary insolence, that measures
were at this time being taken for their effectual sup-
pression.
To the Seven Cities of Refuge Jack proceeded.
Having disposed of his steed and swallowed a glass
of brandy, without taking any other refreshment, he
threw himself on a couch, where he sank at once into
a heavy slumber. When he awoke it was late in the
day, and he was surprised to find Blueskin seated by
his bedside, watching over him with a drawn sword on
his knee, a pistol in each hand, and a blood-stained
cloth bound across his brow.
“Don't disturb yourself," said his follower, motioning
him to keep still ; “it's all right.”
“What time is it?” inquired Jack.
“ Past noon,” replied Blueskin. “I didn't awake
you, because you seemed tired."
"How did you escape?" asked Sheppard, who, as


72
JACK SHEPPARD
he shook off his slumber, began to recall the events of
the previous night.
“Oh, easily enough," rejoined the other. “I sup-
pose
I must have been senseless for some time; for on
coming to myself, I found this gash in my head, and
the ground covered with blood. However, no one had
discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my
horse. I thought if you were living, and not captured,
I should find you here—and I was right I kept
watch over you, for fear of a surprise on the part of
Jonathan. But what's to be done?"
“The first thing I do," replied Jack, “will be to
visit my poor mother in Bedlam.”
“You'd better take care of your mother's son in-
stead," rejoined Blueskin. "It's running a great risk."
"Risk, or no risk, I shall go," replied Jack.
"Jonathan has threatened to do her some mischief.
I am resolved to see her without delay, and ascertain
if it's possible to remove her.”
“It's a hopeless job,” grumbled Blueskin, "and
harm will come of it. What are you to do with a
mad mother at a time when you need all your wits to
take care of yourself?"
“Don't concern yourself further about me,” re-
turned Jack. “Once for all, I shall go."
“ Won't you
take me?"
“No; you must await my return here."
" Then I must wait a long time," grumbled Blueskin.
"You'll never return."
“We shall see,” replied Jack. “But, if I should
not return, take this purse to Edgeworth Bess. You'll
find her at Black Mary's Hole.”
And, having partaken of a hasty breakfast, he set
out. Taking his way along East Smithfield, mounting
little Tower Hill, and threading the Minories and
Houndsditch, he arrived, without accident or molesta-
ţion, at Moorfields.


.
JACK SHEPPARD
73
Old Bethlehem, or Bedlam_every trace of which
has been swept away, and the hospital for lunatics
removed to Saint George's Fields—was a vast and
magnificent structure. Erected in Moorfields in 1675,
upon the model of the Tuileries, it is said Louis the
Fourteenth was so incensed at the insult offered to his
palace, that he had a counterpart of St. James's built
for offices of the meanest description. The size and
grandeur of the edifice, indeed, drew down the ridicule
of several of the wits of the age : by one of whom-
the facetious Tom Brown-it was said, “Bedlam is a
pleasant place, and abounds with amusements : the
first of which is the building, so stately a fabric for
persons wholly insensible of the beauty and use of it;
the outside being a perfect mockery of the inside,
and admitting of two amusing queries—Whether the
persons that ordered the building of it, or those that
inhabited it, were the maddest? and, whether the
name and thing be not as disagreeable as harp and
harrow?” By another—the no less facetious Ned
Ward-it was termed, "A costly college for a crack-
brained society, raised in a mad age, when the chief of
the city were in a great danger of losing their senses,
and so contrived it the more noble for their own re-
ception; or they would never have flung away so
much money to so foolish a purpose.” The cost of the
building exceeded seventeen thousand pounds. How-
ever the taste of the architecture may be questioned,
which was the formal French style of the period, the
general effect was imposing. Including the wings, it
presented a frontage of five hundred and forty feet.
Each wing had a small cupola ; and in the centre of
the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded
ball and vane. The asylum was approached by a
broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged
on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by
tufted trees. A wide terrace then led to large iron


JACK SHEPPARD
75
help glancing at the wretched inmates.
Here was a
poor half-naked creature with a straw crown on his
head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on
the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his
throne. There was a mad musician, seemingly rapt
in admiration of the notes he was extracting from a
child's violin. Here was a terrific figure gnashing his
teeth, and howling like a wild beast-there a lover,
with hands clasped together, and eyes turned passion-
ately upward. In this cell was a huntsman, who had
fractured his skull while hunting, and was perpetually
hallooing after the hounds—in that, the most melan-
choly of all, the grinning, gibbering lunatic, the reali-
sation of "moody madness, laughing wild.”
Hastening from this heartrending spectacle, Jack
soon reached the grating that divided the men's com-
partment from that appropriated to the women. In-
quiring for Mrs. Sheppard, a matron offered to conduct
him to her cell.
“ You will find her quiet enough to-day, sir,”
observed the woman, as they walked along; “but she
has been very outrageous latterly.
Her nurse says
she may live some time; but she seems to me to be
sinking fast.”
“Heaven help her !” sighed Jack. “I hope not.”
“Her release would be a mercy,” pursued the
matron. “Oh! sir, if you'd seen her as I've seen her,
you'd not wish her a continuance of misery."
As Jack made no reply, the woman proceeded.
They say her son's taken at last, and is to be
hanged. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to
him his poor mother's here. See what crime does, sir.
Those who act wickedly bring misery on all connected
with them. And so gentle as the poor creature is,
when she's not in her wild fits-it would melt a heart
of stone to see her. She will cry for days and nights
together. If Jack Sheppard could behold his mother
66


76
JACK SHEPPARD
in this state, he'd have a lesson he'd never forget-
ay, and a severer one than even the hangman could
read him. Hardened as he may be, that would touch
him. But he has never been near her- never.”
Rambling in this way, the matron at length came
to a halt, and taking out a key, pointed to a door, and
said, “This is Mrs. Sheppard's ward, sir.'
"Leave us together, my good woman," said Jack,
putting a guinea into her hand.
“As long as you please, sir,” answered the matroa,
dropping a curtsey. "There, sir,” she added, unlocking
the door, "you can go in. Don't be frightened of her.
She's not mischievous—and besides, she's chained, and
can't reach you.”
So saying she retired, and Jack entered the cell.
Prepared as he was for a dreadful shock, and with
his nerves strung to endure it, Jack absolutely recoiled
before the appalling object that met his gaze. Cowering
in a corner upon a heap of straw sat his unfortunate
mother, the complete wreck of what she had been.
Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only
admitted through a small grated window-like flames,
and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed
to penetrate his very soul. A piece of old blanket
was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no
other clothing except a petticoat. Her arms and feet
were uncovered, and of almost skeleton thinness. Her
features were meagre and ghastly white, and had the
fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. Her head had
been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of
rag, in which a few straws were stuck. Her thin
fingers were armed with nails as long as the talons of
a bird. A chain, riveted to an iron belt encircling
her waist, bound her to the wall. The cell in which
she was confined was about six feet long and four
wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic
designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences, and names,


JACK SHEPPARD
77
--the wor's of its former occupants and of its present
inmate.
When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to
herself in the muttering, unconnected way peculiar
to her distracted condition ; but after her eye had
rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her
features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. This
smile was more harrowing even than her former rigid
look
“You are an angel," she cried, with a look beaming
with delight.
“Rather a devil,” groaned her son, " to have done
this."
“You are an angel, I say,” continued the poor
maniac ; "and my Jack would have been like you, if
he had lived. But he died when he was a child—long
ago-long ago-long ago."
“ Would he had done so !” cried Jack.
Old Van told me if he grew up he would be
hanged. He showed me a black mark under his ear,
where the noose would be tied. And so I'll tell you
what I did
And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood
in his veins.
“What did you do?” he asked, in a broken voice.
"I strangled him-ha! ha! ha!-strangled him
while he was at my breast—ha! ha!” And then,
with a sudden and fearful change of look, she added,
“That's what has driven me mad. I killed my child
to save him from the gallows-oh! oh!
One man
hanged in a family is enough. If I'd not gone mad,
they would have hanged me."
" Poor soul !” ejaculated her son.
“I'll tell you a dream I had last night," continued
the unfortunate being. “I was at Tyburn. There
was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it,
thousands of people, and all with white faces like


78
JACK SHEPPARD
66
corpses. In the midst of them there was a cart with
a man in it—and that man was Jack-my son Jack-
they were going to hang him. And opposite to him,
with a book in his hand—but it couldn't be a prayer-
book--sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and
band. I knew him in spite of his dress. And when
they came to the gallows, Jack leaped out of the cart,
and the hangman tied up Jonathan instead-ha! ha!
How the mob shouted and huzzaed--and I shouted
too-ha! ha! ha!”
“ Mother!” cried Jack, unable to endure this
agonising scene longer. Don't you
know
me,
mother?”
“Ah!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard. " What's that?-
Jack's voice !"
“It is,” replied her son.
“The ceiling is breaking! the floor is opening! he
is coming to me!” cried the unhappy woman.
“ He stands before you,” rejoined her son.
“Where?” she cried. “I can't see him—where
is he?”
Here," answered Jack.
his ghost, then ?"
“No--no," answered Jack.
unhappy son.
“Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are
really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping
towards him on all fours. Jack did not advance to
meet her. He could not move, but stood like one
stupefied, with his hands clasped together, and eyes
almost starting out of their sockets, fixed upon his
unfortunate parent.
“Come to me!” cried the poor maniac, who had
crawled as far as the chain would permit her—“come
to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards
him. Jack fell on his knees beside her.
"Who are you?” inquired Mrs. Sheppard, passing
Are you
"I am
your most


JACK SHEPPARD
79
arms.
her hands over his face, and gazing at him with a look
that made him shudder.
“Your son,” replied Jack, “your miserable, repentant
son."
“It is false,"cried Mrs. Sheppard. “You are not.
Jack was not half your age when he died. They buried
him in Willesden churchyard after the robbery."
“O God!” cried Jack, “she does not know me.
Mother-dear mother," he added, clasping her in his
“Look at me again.”
Off,” she exclaimed, breaking from his embrace
with a scream.
“ Don't touch me. I'll be quiet.
I'll not speak of Jack or Jonathan. I won't dig their
graves with my nails. Don't strip me quite. Leave
me my blanket! I'm very cold at night. Or, if you
must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my
head. It throbs cruelly."
66 Horror ! ” cried Jack.
“Don't scourge me," she cried, trying to hide herself
in the farthest corner of the cell. " The lash cuts to
the bone. I can't bear it. Spare me, and I'll be quiet
-quiet-quiet!”
“Mother !” said Jack, advancing towards her.
“Off !” she cried, with a prolonged and piercing
shriek. And she buried herself beneath the straw,
which she tossed above her head with the wildest
gestures.
“I shall kill her if I stay longer," muttered her
son, completely terrified. While he was considering
what would be best to do, the poor maniac, over whose
bewildered brain another change had come, raised her
head from under the straw, and, peeping round the
room, asked, in a low voice, “if they were gone."
“Who?" inquired Jack.
“ The nurses,” she answered.
“Do they treat you ill ?” asked her son.
“Hush !” she said, putting her lean fingers to her


80
JACK SHEPPARD
"I must go.”
lips. “ Hush !--come hither, and I'll tell you.” Jack
approached her. “Sit beside me,” continued Mrs.
Sheppard. “And now I'll tell you what they do.
Stop! we must shut the door, or they'll catch us.
See !” she added, tearing the rag from her head—“I
had beautiful black hair once. But they cut it all off.”
“ I shall go mad myself if I listen to her longer,"
said Jack, attempting to rise.
“Don't stir, or they'll chain you to the wall,” said
his mother, detaining him. “ Now, tell me why they
brought you here ?"
“I came to see you, dear mother!” answered Jack.
" Mother! she echoed" mother! why do you
call me by that e?”
“Because you are my wother”
“What !” she exclaimed, staring eagerly in his face.
“ Are you my son ? Are you Jack?"
“I am,' replied Jack “Heaven be praised, she
knows me at last
“O Jack !” cried his mother, falling upon his neck,
and covering him with kisses.
“Mother--dear mother!” said Jack, bursting into
tears
“ You will never lcave me,” sabbed the poor woman,
straining hun to her breast.
"Never-never!"
The words were scarcely pronounced, wben the door
was violently thrown open, and two men appeared at
it. They were Jonatbad Wild and Quilt Arnold.
“Ah!"exclaimed Jack, starting to bjs feet.
Just in time," said the thief-taker. You are my
prisoner, Jack."
"You shall take my life fret,' rejoined Sbeppard.
Add, as be was about to put bimself into a postuie
of defence, bis mother clasped him in her arms.
“They shall not harm you, my love !" sbe exclaimed.
The movement was fatal to her son. Taking advan.


82
JACK SHEPPARD
whence it afterwards attained amongst a certain class
of students, whose examinations were conducted with
some strictness at the Old Bailey, and their highest
degrees taken at Hyde Park Corner, the appellation
of Whittington's College; or, more briefly, the Whit.
It may here be mentioned that this gate, destined to
bequeath its name--a name which has since acquired
a terrible significance—to every successive structure
erected upon its site, was granted, in 1400, by charter,
by Henry the Sixth, to the citizens of London, in return
for their loyal services, and thenceforth became the
common gaol to that city and the county of Middle-
sex. Nothing material occurred to Newgate, until the
memorable year 1666, when it was utterly destroyed by
the Great Fire. It is with the building raised after
this direful calamity that our history has to deal.
Though by no means so extensive or commodious
as the modern prison, Old Newgate was a large and
strongly built pile. The body of the edifice stood on
the south side of Newgate Street, and projected at the
western extremity far into the area opposite Saint Sepul-
chre's Church. One small wing lay at the north of
the gate, where Giltspur Street Compter now stands;
and the Press Yard, which was detached from the main
building, was situated at the back of Phoenix Court.
The south, or principal front, looking down the Old
Bailey, and not upon it, as is the case of the present
structure, with its massive walls of roughened freestone
-in some places darkened by the smoke, in others
blanched by exposure to the weather—its heavy pro-
jecting cornice, its unglazed doubly grated windows,
its gloomy porch, decorated with fetters, and defended
by an enormous iron door, had a stern and striking
effect. Over the lodge, upon a dial, was inscribed the
appropriate motto, “ Venio sicut fur." The gate, which
crossed Newgate Street, had a wide arch for carriages,
and a postern, on the north side, for foot passengers,


JACK SHEPPARD
83
Its architecture was richly ornamental, and resembled
the style of a triumphal entrance to a capital, rather
than a dungeon, having battlements and hexagonal
towers, and being adorned on the western side with a
triple range of pilasters of the Tuscan order amid the
intercolumniations of which were niches embellished
with statues. The chief of these was a figure of Liberty,
with a cat at her feet, in allusion to the supposed origin
of the fortunes of its former founder, Sir Richard
Whittington. On the right of the postern, against
the wall, was affixed a small grating, sustaining the
debtors' box; and any pleasure which the passer-by
might derive from contemplating the splendid structure
above described was damped at beholding the pale faces
and squalid figures of the captives across the bars of
its strongly grated windows. Some years after the
date of this history, an immense ventilator was placed
at the top of the gate, with a view of purifying the
prison, which, owing to its insufficient space and con-
stantly crowded state, was never free from that dreadful
and contagious disorder, now happily unknown, the
gaol fever. So frightful, indeed, were the ravages of
this malady, to which debtors and felons were alike
exposed, that its miserable victims were frequently
carried out by cart-loads, and thrown into a pit in
the burial-ground of Christchurch, without ceremony.
Old Newgate was divided into three separate prisons
-the Master's Side, the Common Side, and the Press
Yard. The first of these, situated at the south of the
building, with the exception of one ward over the gate-
way, was allotted to the better class of debtors, whose
funds enabled them to defray their chamber-rent, fees,
and garnish. The second, comprising the bulk of the
gaol, and by many degrees worse in point of accommo-
dation, having several dismal and noisome wards
underground, was common both to debtors and male
factors--an association little favourable to the morals


84
JACK SHEPPARD
or comforts of the former, who, if they were brought
there with any notions of honesty, seldom left with un-
tainted principles. The last-in all respects the best
and airiest of the three, standing, as has been belyre
observed, in Phoenix Court, at the rear of the main
fabric—was reserved for State offenders, and such
persons as chose to submit to the extortionate de.
mands of the keeper : from twenty to five hundred
pounds premium, according to the rank and means of
the applicant, in addition to a high weekly rent, being
required for accommodation in this quarter. Some
excuse for this rapacity may perhaps be found in the
fact, that five thousand pounds was paid for the pur-
chase of the Press Yard by Mr. Pitt, the then governor
of Newgate. This gentleman, tried for high trcason,
in 1716, on suspicion of aiding Mr. Forster, the rebel
general's escape, but acquitted, rcaped a golden har-
vest during the occupation of his premises by the
Preston rebels, when a larger sum was obtained for a
single chamber than (in the words of a sufferer on the
occasion)“ would have paid thc rcnt of the best house
in St. James's Square or Piccadilly for several years."
Nor was this all. Other and more serious imposi-
tions, inasmuch as they affected a poorer class of
persons, were practised by the underlings of the gaol.
On his first entrance, a prisoner, if unable or unwilling
to comply with the exactions of the turnkeys, was thrust
into the Condemned Hold, with the worst description
of criminals, and terrified by threats into submission.
By the old regulations, the free use of strong liquors
not being interdicted, a tap-house was kept in the
Lodge, and also in a cellar on the Common side-under
the superintendence of Mrs. Spurling, formerly, it may
be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at
Queenhithe--whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior
quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high
prices throughout the prison, which in noise and de.


86
JACK SHEPPARD
silks, stuffs, camlets, and velvet, without giving place
to each other, according to their dignity; here rolled so
many pipes of canary, whose bung-holes lying open,
were so damaged that the merchant may go hoop for
his money.” A less picturesque, but more truthful,
and, therefore, more melancholy, description of the sam
scene, is furnished by the shrewd and satirical Ned Ward,
who informs us, in the "Delectable History of Whitting-
ton's College," that “when the prisoners are disposed
to recreate themselves with walking, they go up into
a spacious room, called the Stone Hall; where, when
you see them taking a turn together, it would puzzle
one to know which is the gentleman, which the mechanic,
and which the beggar, for they are all suited in the same
garb of squalid poverty, making a spectacle of more pity
than executions; only to be out at the elbows is in fashion
here, and a great indecorum not to be threadbare.”
In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a
chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and
handcuffs of all weights and sizes. Four prisoners,
termed “The Partners," had charge of this hold. Their
duty was to see who came in, or went out; to lock up
and open the different wards; to fetter such prisoners
as were ordered to be placed in irons; to distribute the
allowances of provision; and to maintain some show of
decorum; for which latter purpose they were allowed
to carry whips and truncheons. When any violent
outrage was committed—and such matters were of
daily, sometimes hourly, occurrence—a bell, the
rope
of
which descended into the hall, brought the whole of the
turnkeys to their assistance. A narrow passage at the
north of the Stone Hall led to the Bluebeard's Room
of this enchanted castle, a place shunned even by the
reckless crew who were compelled to pass it. It was a
sort of cooking-room, with an immense fireplace flanked
by a couple of caldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's
Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for


JACK SHEPPARD
87
treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch,
and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or
on London Bridge. Above this revolting spot was the
female debtors' ward; below it a gloomy cell, called
Tangier; and, lower still, the Stone Hold, a most
terrible and noisome dungeon, situated under ground,
and un visited by a single ray of daylight. Built and
paved with stone, without beds, or any other sort of
protection from the cold, this dreadful hole, accounted
the most dark and dismal in the prison, was made the
receptacle of such miserable wretches as could not pay
the customary fees. Adjoining it was the Lower Ward
-“Though, in what degree of latitude it was situated,"
observes Ned Ward, “I cannot positively demonstrate,
unless it lay ninety degrees beyond the North Pole;
for instead of being dark there but half a year, it is dark
all the
year round.” It was only a shade better than the
Stone Hold. Here were imprisoned the fines; and, “per-
haps,” adds the before-cited authority, "if he behaved
himself, an outlawed person might creep in among them.”
Ascending the gate once more on the way back, we find
over the Stone Hall another large room called Debtors'
Hall, facing Newgate Street, “ with very good air and
light.” A little too much of the former, perhaps; as,
the windows being unglazed, the prisoners were subjected
to severe annoyance from the weather and easterly winds.
Of the women felons' rooms nothing has yet been
said. There were two. One called Waterman's Hall,
a horrible place adjoining the postern under the gate,
whence, through a small barred aperture, they solicited
alms from the passengers: the other, a large chamber,
denominated My Lady's Hold, was situated in the
highest part of the gaol, at the northern extremity.
Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate
inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken
floor The condition of the rooms was indescribably
filthy and disgusting; nor were the habits of the


88
JACK SHEPPARD
occupants much more cleanly. In other respects they
were equally indecorous and offensive. “ It is with
no small concern,” writes an anonymous historian of
Newgate, that I am obliged to observe that the
women in every ward of this prison are exceedingly
worse than the worst of the men, not only in respect
to their mode of living, but more especially as to their
conversation, which, to their great shame, is as profane
and wicked as hell itself can possibly be."
There were two Condemned Holds, one for each sex.
That for the men lay near the Lodge, with which it was
connected by a dark passage. It was a large room,
about twenty feet long and fifteen broad, and had an
arched stone roof. In fact, it had been anciently the
right-hand postern under the gate leading towards the
city. The floor was planked with oak, and covered
with iron staples, hooks, and ring-bolts, with heavy
chains attached to them. There was only one small
grated window in this hold, which admitted but little
light. Over the gateway towards Snow Hill were two
strong wards, called the Castle and the Red Room.
They will claim particular attention hereafter.
Many other wards, especially on the Master Debtors'
side, have been necessarily omitted in the foregoing
hasty enumeration. But there were two places of
punishment which merit some notice from their
peculiarity. The first of these, the Press Room, a
dark, close chamber, near Waterman's Hall, obtained
its name from an immense wooden machine kept in it,
with which such prisoners as refused to plead to their
indictments were pressed to death—a species of in-
quisitorial torture not discontinued until so lately as
the early part of the reign of George the Third, when
it was abolished by an express statute. Into the second,
denominated the Bilbowes, also a dismal place, refrac-
tory prisoners were thrust, and placed in a kind of
stocks, whence the name.


90
JACK SHEPPARD
X
How Jack Sheppard got out of the Condemned Hold.
MONDAY, the 31st of August 1724-a day long after-
wards remembered by the officers of Newgate—was
distinguished by an unusual influx of visitors to the
Lodge. On that morning the dead warrant had arrived
from Windsor, ordering Sheppard for execution (since
his capture by Jonathan Wild in Bedlam, as related in
a former chapter, Jack had been tried, convicted, and
sentenced to death), together with three other male-
factors, on the following Friday. Up to this moment,
hopes had been entertained of a respite, strong repre-
sentations in his favour having been made in the
highest quarter ; but now that his fate seemed sealed,
the curiosity of the sight-seeing public to behold him
was redoubled. The prison gates were besieged like
the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned
Hold, where he was confined, and to which visitors
were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a head,
had quite the appearance of a show-room. As the day
wore on, the crowds diminished-many who would not
submit to the turnkey's demands were sent away
ungratified—and at five o'clock only two strangers,
Mr. Shotbolt, the head turnkey of Clerkenwell Prison,
and Mr. Griffin, who held the same office in Westminster
Gatehouse, were left in the Lodge. Jack, who had
formerly been in the custody of both these gentlemen,
gave them a very cordial welcome ; apologised for tho
sorry room he was compelled to receive them in; and
when they took leave, insisted on treating them to a
double bowl of punch, which they were now discussing
with the upper gaoler, Mr. Ireton, and his two satellites,
Austin and Langley. At a little distance from the


JACK SHEPPARD
91
By his
party sat a tall, sinister-looking personage, with harsh,
inflexible features, a gaunt but muscular frame, and
large bony hands. He was sipping a glass of cold gin
and water, and smoking a short black pipe. His name
was Marvel, and his avocation, which was as repulsive
as his looks, was that of public executioner.
side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as
much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay.
She had a nut-brown skin, a swarthy upper lip, a merry
black eye, a prominent bust, and a tun-like circumfer-
ence of waist. A widow for the fourth time, Mrs.
Spurling (for she it was), either by her attractions of
purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony
eart of Mr. Marvel, who, as he had helped to deprive
her of her former husbands, thought himself in duty
bound to offer to supply their place. But the lady
was not so easily won; and though she did not abso-
lutely reject him, gave him very slight hopes. Mr.
Marvel, therefore, remained on his probation. Behind
Mrs. Spurling stood her negro attendant, Caliban;
a hideous, misshapen, malicious monster, with broad
hunched shoulders, a flat nose, and ears like those of a
wild beast, a head too large for his body, and a body
too long for his legs. This horrible piece of deformity,
who acted as drawer and cellarman, and was a constant
butt to the small wits of the gaol, was nicknamed the
Black Dog of Newgate.
In the general survey of the prison, taken in the
preceding chapter, but little was said of the Lodge.
It may be well, therefore, before proceeding further,
to describe it more minutely. It was approached from
the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a
ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the
inner side by huge bolts and a lock, with wards of a
prodigious size. A little within stood a second door,
or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal
strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes.
;


ga
JACK SHEPPARD
As no apprehension was entertained of an escape
by this outlet — nothing of the kind having been
attempted by the boldest felon ever incarcerated in
Newgate-both doors were generally left open dur-
ing the daytime. At six o'clock, the wicket was shut;
and at nine, the gaol was altogether locked up Not
far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen,
or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling,
formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron
bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. In this
screen, which masked the entrance of a dark passage
communicating with the Condemned Hold, about five
feet from the ground, was a batch, protected by long
spikes set six inches apart, and each of the thickness
of an elephant's tusk. The spikes almost touched the
upper part of the hatch ; scarcely space enough for the
passage of a hand being left between their points and
the beam. Here, as has already been observed, con-
demned malefactors were allowed to converse with such
of their guests as had not interest or money enough to
procure admission to them in the hold. Beyond the
hatch, an angle, formed by a projection in the wall of
some three or four feet, served to hide a door conduct-
ing to the interior of the prison. At the farther end
of the Lodge, the floor was raised to the height of a
couple of steps; whence the whole place, with the ex-
ception of the remotest corner of the angle before men-
tioned, could be commanded at a single glance. On
this elevation a table was now placed, around which
sat the turnkeys and their guests, regaling themselves
on the fragrant beverage provided by the prisoner 4
brief description will suffice for them. They were all
stout ill-favoured men, attired in the regular gaol-livery
of scratch wig and snuff-coloured suit, and had all a
strong family likeness to each other. The only dif-
ference between the officers of Newgate and their
brethren was, that they had enormous bunches of keys


JACK SHEPPARD
93
than ever.
66
at their girdles, while the latter had left their keys
at home.
Well, I've seen many a gallant fellow in my time,
Mr. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster
Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of
punch ; " but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard.”
"Nor I," returned Ireton, following his example;
“and I've had some experience, too. Ever since he
came here, three months ago, he has been the life and
soul of the place; and now the dead warrant has
arrived, instead of being cast down, as most men
would be, and as all others are,
he's
gayer
Well, I shall be sorry to lose him, Mr. Griffin. We've
made a pretty penny by him-sixty guineas this blessed
day."
“No more !” cried Griffin incredulously; I should
have thought you must have made double that sum at
least."
“Not a farthing more, I assure you,” rejoined Ireton
pettishly; " we're all on the square here. I took the
money myself, and ought to know.”
"Oh! certainly," answered Griffin; "certainly."
“I offered Jack five guineas as his share,” continued
Ireton;
“ but he wouldn't take it himself, and gave it
to the poor debtors and felons, who are now drinking
it out in the cellar on the Common Side."
“ Jack's a noble fellow,” exclaimed the head-gaoler
of Clerkenwell Prison, raising his glass ; "and, though
he played me a scurvy trick, I'll drink to his speedy
deliverance.”
“At Tyburn, eh, Mr. Shotbolt?" rejoined the exe-
cutioner. “I'll pledge you in that toast with all my
heart."
“Well, for my part,” observed Mrs. Spurling, “I
hope he may never see Tyburn. And, if I'd my own
way with the secretary of state, he never should. It's
a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow. There


94
JACK SHEPPARD
haven't been so many ladies in the Lodge since the
days of Claude Du Val, the gentleman highwayman;
and they all declare it'll break their hearts if he's
scragged.”
"Bah!” ejaculated Marvel gruffly.
“ You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, sir,"
cried Mrs. Spurling indignantly; "but I can tell you
we have.
And, what's more, I tell you, if Captain
Sheppard is hanged, you need never hope to call me
Mrs. Marvel.”
" Zounds!” cried the executioner in astonishment.
“Do you know what you are talking about, Mrs.
Spurling? Why, if Captain Sheppard should get off,
it 'ud be fifty guineas out of my way. There's the
grand lace coat he wore at his trial, which I intend for
my wedding-dress.”
“Don't mention such a thing, sir," interrupted the
tapstress. “I couldn't bear to see you in it. Your
speaking of the trial brings the whole scene to my
mind. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut
on that occasion. What a buzz of admiration ran
round the court as he appeared! And how handsome
and composed he looked! Everybody wondered that
such a stripling could commit such desperate robberies.
His firmness never deserted him till his old master,
Mr. Wood, was examined. Then he did give way a
bit. And when Mr. Wood's daughter-to whom, I've
heard tell, he was attached some years ago
brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he
trembled, and could scarcely stand. Poor young lady!
She trembled, too, and was unable to give her evidence.
When sentence was passed there wasn't a dry eye in
the court."
Yes, there was one," observed Ireton.
'I guess whose you mean,” rejoined Shotbolt.
“Mr. Wild's.”
Right," answered Ireton. “It's strange the anti-
was
66


96
JACK SHEPPARD
2
ind placing him in the hands of a Dutch skipper,
named Van Galgebrok, with instructions to throw him
overboard, which was done, though he afterwards
escaped. But this accusation, for want of sufficient
evidence, met with the same fate as the first, and
Jonathan came off victorious. It was thought, however,
if the skipper could have been found, thit the result
of the case would have been materially different. This
was rather too much to expect, for we all know. if
Mr. Wild wishes to keep a man out of the way, he'll
speedily find the means to do so."
“Ay, ay,” cried the gaolers, laughing.
“ I could have given awkward evidence in that case,
if I'd been so inclincd," said Mrs. Spurling, "ay, and
found Van Galgebrok too. But
never betray an old
customer.
“Mr. Wild is a great man," said the hangman,
replenishing his pipe, "and we owe him much, and
ought to support him. Were anything to happen to
him, Newgate wouldn't be what it 13, nor Tyburn
either.”
"Mr. Wild has given you some employment, Mr.
Marvel,” remarked Shotbolt.
A little, sir,” replied the executioner, with a grim
smile. "Out of the twelve hundred subjects I've
tucked
up,
I may safely place half to his account. If
ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not
ungrateful. ` And though I say it that shouldn't say it,
no man can tie a better knot. Mr. Wild, gentleman,
and the nubbin'-cheat.”
“Fill your glasses, gentlemen," observed Ireton,
' and I'll tell you a droll thing Jack said this morning.
Amongst others who came to see him was a Mr.
Kneebone, a woollen-draper in Wych Street, with whose
pockets, it appears, Jack, when a lad, made a little too
free. As this gentleman was going away, he said to
Jack in a jesting manner, that he should be glad to


JACK SHEPPARD
97
see him to-night at supper.' Upon which the other
answered, that he accepted his invitation with pleasure,
and would make a point of waiting upon him.' Ha !
ha! ha!”
“ Did he say so?” cried Shotbolt. “ Then I advise
you to look sharply after him, Mr. Ireton; for may I
be hanged myself if I don't believe he'll be as good as
his word.”
At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in
silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge.
66 Ah! who have we here?" exclaimed Griffin.
“Only Jack's two wives—Edgeworth Bess and Poll
Maggot,” replied Austin, laughing.
They can't go into the Condemned Hold,” said
Ireton consequentially; "it's against Mr. Wild's orders.
They must see the prisoner at the hatch."
* Very well, sir," replied Austin, rising and walking
towards them. “Well, my pretty dears," he added-
come to see your husband, eh? You must make the
most of your time. You won't have him long. You've
heard the news, I suppose ?”
That the dead warrant's arrived,” returned Edge-
worth Bess, bursting into a flood of tears ; " oh! yes,
we've heard it.”
“ How does Jack bear it?" inquired Mrs. Maggot.
“Like a hero," answered Austin.
“I knew he would,” replied the Amazon.
“Come,
Bess, no whimpering. Don't unman him. Are we to
see him here?”
“Yes, my love."
“Well, then, lose no time in bringing him to us,"
said Mrs. Maggot. “There's a guinea to drink our
health,” she added, slipping a piece of money into his
hand.
“Here, Caliban,” shouted the under-turnkey, un-
lock Captain Sheppard's padlock, and tell him his wives
gre in the Lodge, waiting to see him.”


98
JACK SHEPPARL
“Iss, Massa Austin," replied the black. And taking
the keys, he departed on the errand. As soon as he
was gone, the two women divested themselves of their
hoods and cloaks, and threw them, as if inadvertently,
into the farthest part of the angle in the wall. Their
beautifully proportioned figures and rather over-dis-
played shoulders attracted the notice of Austin, who
inquired of the chief turnkey “whether he should stand
by them during the interview."
“Oh! never mind them,” said Mrs. Spurling, who
had been hastily compounding another bowl of punch.
“Sit down, and enjoy yourself. I'll keep a look out
that nothing happens."
By this time Caliban had returned, and Jack appeared
at the hatch. He was wrapped in a loose dressing-
gown of light material, and stood near the corner where
the women's dresses had just been thrown down, quite
out of sight of all the party, except Mrs. Spurling, who
sat on the right of the table.
“Have you got Jonathan out of the way?” he asked,
in an eager whisper.
“Yes, yes," replied Edgeworth Bess. " Patience
Kate has lured him to Enfield, on a false scent after
Blueskin. You need fear no interruption from him, or
any of his myrmidons."
“ That's well !” cried Jack. “Now stand before me,
Poll; I've got the watch-spring saw in my sleeve. Pre-
tend to weep, both of you, as loudly as you can. This
spike is more than half cut through. I was at work
at it yesterday and the day before. Keep up the
clamour for five minutes, and I'll finish it." Thus
urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud
lamentation.
“What the devil are you howling about?” cried
Langley. “Do you think we are to be disturbed in
this way? Make less noise, hussies, or I'll turn you
out of the Lodge."


JACK SHEPPARD
99
" For shame, Mr Langley,” rejoined Mrs. Spurling.
"I blush for you, sir! To call yourself a man, and
interfere with the natural course of affection ! Have
yca no feeling for the situation of those poor disconsolate
creatures, about to be bereaved of all they hold dear?
Is it nothing to part with a husband to the gallows?
I've lost four in the same way, and know what it is.”
Here she began to blubber loudly for sympathy.
“Comfort yourself, my charmer," said Mr. Marvel,
in a tone intended to be consolatory. “ I'll be their
sabstitate.'
“ You l” cried the tapstress, with a look of horror.
“Never!”
“Confusion !” muttered Jack, suddenly pausing in
his task; “the saw has broken, just as I am through
the spike."
"Can't we break it off?” asked Mrs. Maggot.
“I fear not,” replied Jack despondingly.
“Let's try, at all events," returned the Amazon,
And grasping the thick iron rod, she pushed with
all her force against it, while Jack seconded her efforts
from within. After great exertions on both parts, the
spike yielded to their combined strength, and snapped
suddenly cff.
“Halloa-what's that?” cried Austin, starting up.
“Only my darbies," returned Jack, clinking his
chains.
“Oh! that was all, was it?” said the turnkey,
quietly reseating himself.
“Now give me the woollen cloth to tie round my
fetters,” whispered Sheppard. “Quick.”
“Here it is," replied Edgeworth Bess.
“Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through,”
cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation.
« Keep
a sharp look out, Bess.
“Stop!” interposed Edgeworth Bess ;“Mr. Langley
is getting up, and coming this way. We're lost."


(00
JACK SHEPPARD
“Help me through at all hazards, Poll,” cried Jack,
straining towards the opening.
“The danger's past," whispered Bess. " Mrs.
Spurling has induced him to sit down again. Ah!
she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips.
She comprehends what we're about. We're all safe!”
"Don't lose a moment, then," cried Jack, forcing
himself into the aperture, while the Amazon, assisted
by Bess, pulled him through it.
“There !” cried Mrs. Maggot, as she placed him
without noise upon the ground; "you're safe so far.”
“Come, my disconsolate darlings,” cried Austin;
“it only wants five minutes to six. I expect Mr.
Wild here presently. Cut it as short as you can.”
“Only two minutes more, sir," entreated Edgeworth
Bess, advancing towards him in such a manner as to
screen Jack, who crept into the farthest part of the
angle-"only two minutes, and we've done.”
Well, well, I'm not within a minute," rejoined the
turnkey.
“We shall never be able to get you out unseen,
Jack," whispered Poll Maggot. “You must make a
bold push."
Impossible,” replied Sheppard, in the same tone.
“That would be certain destruction. I can't run in
these heavy fetters. No: I must face it out. Tell
Bess to slip out, and I'll put on her cloak and hood.”
Meanwhile, the party at the table continued drinking
and chatting as merrily as before.
“I can't help thinking of Jack Sheppard's speech to
Mr. Kneebone," observed Shotbolt, as he emptied his
tenth tumbler. “I am sure he's meditating an escape,
and hopes to accomplish it to-night."
“Pooh! pooh !” rejoined Ireton; "it was mere idle
boasting. I examined the Condemned Hold myself
carefully this morning, and didn't find a nail out of its
place. Recollect he's chained to the ground by a great


JACK SHEPPARD
IOI
1
with a yawn.
1
horse-padlock, and is in
never unloosed except when he
comes to that hatch. If he escapes at all, it must be
before our faces."
“It wouldn't surprise me if he did,” remarked
Griffin. "He's audacity enough for anything. He
got put in much the same way from the Gatehouse-
stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was
sitting half asleep in a chair.”
Caught you napping, ch?” rejoined Ircton, with
a laugh. "Well, he won't do that here. I'll forgive
him if he does.”
“And so will I,” said Austin. " We're too wide
awake for that. Ain't wc, partner?” he added, appeal-
ing to Langley, whom punch had made rather dozy.
I should think so," responded the lethargic turnkey,
During this colloquy, Jack had contrived unobserved
to put on the hood and cloak, and being about the
size of the rightful owner, presented a very tolerable
resemblance to her. This donc, Edgeworth Bess, who
watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge.
" Halloa !” exclaimed Austin, who had caught a i
glimpse of her departing figure, “one of the women is
no," hastily interposed Mrs. Spurling;
“they're both here. Don't you see they're putting
on their cloaks ?”
“That's false !" rejoined Marvel, in a low tone ;i "I
perceive what has taken place."
“Oh! goodness !” ejaculated the tapstress, in alarm.
betray him ??
“Say the word, and I'm mum, returned the execu-i..
tioner. “Will you be mine?"
“It's a very unfair advantage to take very," replied
Mrs. Spurling; fhowever, I consent."
"Then I'll lend a helping hand, I shall, lose my
feeş and the laced coat, But it's better to have the
gone !"
6. No
“ You won't be
M


1oz
JACK SHEPPARD
bride without the weddin' dress, than the weddin' dress
without the bride."
At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six.
“Close the wicket, Austin,” vociferated Ireton, in
an authoritative tone.
“Good-bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his
mistresses ; “to-morrow at the same time.”
“We'll be punctual," replied Mrs. Maggot. "Good-
bye, Jack. Keep up your spirits."
“Now for it-life or death !” exclaimed Jack,
assuming the gait of a female, and stepping towards
the door.
As Austin rose to execute his principal's commands,
and usher the women to the gate, Mrs. Spurling and
Marvel rose too. The latter walked carelessly towards
the hatch, and leaving his back against the place
whence the spike had been removed, so as completely
to hide it, continued smoking his pipe as coolly as if
nothing had happened. Just as Jack had gained the
entrance, he heard a man's footstep behind him, and,
aware that the slightest indiscretion would betray him,
he halted, uncertain what to do.
“Stop a minute, my dear,” cried Austin. “ You
forget that you promised me a kiss the last time you
were here."
“Won't one from me do as well ?" interposed Mrs.
Maggot.
“Much better," said Mrs. Spurling, hastening to the
“I want to speak to Edgeworth Bess myself.”
So saying, she planted herself between Jack and the
turnkey. It was a moment of breathless interest to
all engaged in the attempt.
“Come--the kiss," cried Austin, endeavouring to
pass his arm familiarly round the Amazon's waist.
“Hands off,” she exclaimed, “or you'll repent it.”
66 Why, what'll you do,” demanded the turnkey.
“Teach you to keep your distance,” retorted Mrs.
rescue.


JACK SHEPPARD
105
.
[
66
22
"Gone? you black devil !-Gone?” cried Ireton,
“Iss, massa. Caliban sarch ebery hole in de placey
but Shack ,no dere. Only him big hoss-padlock-
noting else.”
“I knew it," rejoined Wild, with concentrated
rage; "and he escaped you all in broad day, before
your faces. You may well say it's impossible. His
Majesty's gaol of Newgate is admirably guarded, I
must say. Ireton, you are in league with him.".
“Sir," said the chief turnkey indignantly.
“You are, sir," thundered Jonathan ; "and, unless
you find him, you shan't hold your place a week.
don't threaten idly, as you know. And you, Austin ;
and you, Langley; I say the same thing to you."
But, Mr. Wild,” implored the turnkeys.
I've said it," rejoined Jonathan peremptorily.
"And you, Marvel, you must have been a party-
“I, sir??'
“ If he's not found, I'll get a new hangman."
"Zounds.!” cried Marvel, “I-
“Hush !" whispered the tapstress, or I retract my
promise."
“Mrs. Spurling,” said Jonathan, who overheard the
whisper, "you owe your situation to me. i If
you
havel
aided Jack Sheppard's escape, you shall owe your
discharge to me also."
“As you please, sir," replied the tapstress coolly.
“ And the next time Captain Darrell wants a witness,
I promise you he shan't look for one in vain."
"Ha! hussy, dare you threaten?” cried Wild; but
checking himself, he turned to Ireton and asked, “ How
long have the women been gone?”
Scarcely five minutes," replied the latter.
“One of you fly to the market,” returned Jonathan;
"another to the river; and a third to the New Mint.
Disperse in every direction. We'll have him yet. A
hundred pounds to the man who takes him."
!
N
}
7.
N


106
JACK SHEPPARD
So saying, he rushed out, followed by Ireton and
Langley.
"A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. “That's
a glorious reward. Do
you
think he'll
рау
it?"
“ I'm sure of it,” replied Austin.
"Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said
the keeper of the New Prison to himself “ If Jack
Sheppard sups with Mr. Kneebone, I'll make one of
the party."
XI
Dollis Hill Revisited.
ABOUT an hour after the occurrences at Newgate, the
door of the small back parlour already described at
Dollis Hill was opened" by Winifred, who, gliding
noiselessly across the room, approached a couch, on
which was extended a sleeping female, and gazing
anxiously at her pale careworn countenance, murmured
“Heaven be praised ! she still slumbers—slumbers
peacefully. The opiate has done its duty. Poor thing!
how beautiful she looks; but how like death."
Death-like, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper-
death-like and deep. Its very calmness was frightful.
Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue
from them; and, but for a slight-very slight palpi-
tation of the bosom, the vital principle might be
supposed to be extinct. This lifeless appearance was
heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features
especially the nose and chin-and by the emaciation
of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her
drapery. Her attenuated arms were crossed upon her
and her black brows and eyelashes contrasted
fearfully with the livid whiteness of her skin. A
few short, dark locks, escaping from beneath her
breast;


JACK SHEPPARD
107
head-dress, showed that her hair had been removed,
and bad only been recently allowed to grow again.
“Poor Mrs. Sheppard !" sighed Winifred, as she
contemplated the beautiful wreck before her—“Poor
Mrs. Sheppard! When I see her thus, and think of
all she has endured, of all she may yet have to endure,
I could almost pray for her release from trouble. I
dare not reflect upon the effect that her son's fate-if
the efforts to save him are ineffectual-may have
upon
her enfeebled frame, and still worse upon her mind.
What a mercy that the blow aimed at her by the ruffian,
Wild, though it brought her to the brink of the grave,
should have restored her to reason! Ah! she stirs."
As she said this, she drew a little aside, while Mrs.
Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes,
which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy
than ever.
“Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across
her brow.
“With your friends, dear Mrs. Sheppard,” replied
Winifred, advancing.
“Ah! you are there, my dear young lady,” said the
widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm
always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible
asylum.”
“ You need never be afraid of that,” returned Winifred
affectionately ; "my father will take care you never
leave him more."
“Oh! how much I owe him!” said the widow, with
fervour, “ for bringing me here, and removing me from
those dreadful sights and sounds, that would have
driven me distracted, even if I had been in my right
mind. And how much I owe you, too, dearest Winifred,
for
your kindness and attention. Without you I should
never have recovered either health or reason.
never be grateful enough. But, though I cannot
reward you, Heaven will,”
I can


JACK SHEPPARD
109
66
me.
"How?” exclaimed the other. Can you not love
him?"
“ Love him!” echoed the widow. “ The feeling is
dead within my breast. My only love is for my poor
lost son.
I can esteem him, regard him ; but love him :
as he ought to be loved—that I cannot do."
"Your esteem is all he will require,” urged Winifred.
“He has it, and will ever have it," replied Mrs.
Sheppard passionately—"he has my boundless gratitude
and devotion. But I am not worthy to be any man's
wife_far less his wife. Winifred, you are deceived in
You know not what a wretched guilty thing I
am. You know not in what dark places my life has,
been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. But
the offences I have committed are venial in comparison
with what I should commit were I to wed your father.
No-no, it must never be."
"You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs.
Sheppard,” rejoined Winifred kindly. “ Your faults
were the faults of circumstances."
“Palliate them as you may,” replied the widow x
gravely," they were faults; and, as such, cannot be
repaired by a greater wrong. If you love me do not
allude to this subject again.
I'm
sorry
I mentioned it at all, since it distresses
you,” returned Winifred ; “but, as I knew my father
intended to propose to you, if poor Jack should be
respited
If he should be respited !” repeated Mrs. Sheppard,
with startling eagerness. “Does your father doubt it?
Speak! tell me !"
Winifred made no answer.
“ Your hesitation convinces me he does,” replied the
widow. Is Thames returned from London ?”.
“Not yet,” replied the other ; "but I expect him,
every minute.
My father's chief fear, I must tell you,!
is from the baneful influence of Jonathan Wild.”.
1
66
M


IIO
JACK SHEPPARD
“That fiend is ever in my path,” exclaimed Mrs.
Sheppard, with a look the wildness of which greatly
alarmed her companion. 6 I cannot scare him theace
“ Hark!” cried Winifred, “ Thames is arrived I
hear the sound of his horse's feet in the yard
Now
you will learn the result."
“ Heaven support me!” cried Mrs. Sheppard faintly.
“ Breathe at this phial,” said Winifred
Shortly afterwards—it seemed an age to the anxious
mother--Mr. Wood entered the room, followed by
Thames. The latter looked very pale, either from the
effect of his wound, which was not yet entirely healed,
or from suppressed emotion-partly perhaps from both
causes—and wore bis left arm in a sling.
“Well !” cried Mrs. Sheppard, raising herself, and
looking at him as if her life depended on the answer.
"He is respited ?"
“ Alas! no," replied Thames sadly.
« The warrant
for his execution is arrived. There is no further hope.”
“My poor son!” groaned the widow, sinking back-
wards.
“Heaven have mercy on his soul !” ejaculated Wood.
“Poor Jack!” cried Winifred, burying her face in
her lover's bosom.
Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any
sound heard except the stifled sobs of the unfortunate
mother. At length, she suddenly started to her feet;
and, before Winifred could prevent her, staggered up
to Thames.
“When is he to suffer ?" she demanded, fixing her
large black eyes, which burnt with an insane gleam,
upon him.
66
“On Friday,” he replied.
Friday !” echoed Mrs. Sheppard ; "and to-day is
Monday. He has three days to live. Only three days.
Three short days.
Horrible!”
“Poor soul ! her senses are going again,” said Mr.


JACK SHEPPARD
III
97
a razor
Wood, terrified by the wildness of her looks. “I was
afraid it would be so."
'Only three days," reiterated the widow, "three
short, short days—and then all is over. Jonathan's
wicked tbreat is fulfilled at last. The gallows is in
view-I see it with all its hideous apparatus !-ough!”
and shuddering violently, she placed her hands before
her, as if to exclude some frightful vision from her sight.
“Do not despair, my sweet soul,” said Wood, in a
soothing tone.
Do not despair !" echoed Mrs. Sheppard, with a
laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like
“ do not despair !
And who or what shall
give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept
till my eyes are dry—suffered till my heart is broken
-prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb—and all of
no avail. He will be hanged—hanged—hanged. Ha !
ha!
What have I left but despair and madness ?
Promise me one thing, Mr. Wood,” she continued, with
a sudden change of tone, and convulsively clutching
the carpenter's arm ; “promise it me.
Anything, my dear,” replied Wood. What is it?"
Bury us together in one grave in Willesden Church-
yard. There is a small yew-tree west of the church.
Beneath that tree let us lie. In one grave, miud. Do
you promise to do this ?”
"Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter.
“Enough,” said the widow gratefully. “I must see
him to-night."
Impossible, dear Mrs. Sheppard,” said Thames.
* To-morrow I will take
you
to him.”
• Tomorrow will be too late,” replied the widow, in
a hollow voice; “I feel it will. I must go to-night,
or I shall never behold him again. I must bless him
before I die. I have strength enough to drag myself
there, and I do not want to return."
' Be pacified, sweet soul,” said Wood, looking


ita
JACK SHEPPARD
my son."
meaningly at Thames ; "you shall go, and I will
accompany you."
“A mother's blessing on you,” replied Mrs. Sheppard
fervently. “And now," she added, with somewhat
more composure, “leave me, dear friends, I entreat,
for a few minutes, to collect my scattered thoughts-
to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to
pray
for
“Shall we do so?” whispered Winifred to her father.
“By all means," returned Wood; "don't delay an
instant.”
And, followed by the young couple, who gazed wist-
fully at the poor sufferer, he hastily quitted the room,
and locked the door after him.
Mrs. Sheppard was no sooner alone than she fell
upon her knees by the side of the couch, and poured
forth her heart in prayer. So absorbed was she by
her passionate supplications, that she was insensible to
anything passing around her, until she felt a touch
upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice
breathe in her ear-
“ Mother!”
She started at the sound as if an apparition had called
her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms.
"Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to
his breast.
“My son! my dear, dear son!” returned Mrs.
Sheppard,' returning his embrace with all a parent's
tenderness.
Jack was completely overcome. His chest heaved
violently, and big tears coursed rapidly down his cheeks.
“I don't deserve it,” he said, at length; " but I
would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this
moment's happiness.”
“And you must have risked much to obtain it, my
love. I have scarcely recovered from the shock of hear-
ing of your condemnation when I behold you free!”


JACK SHEPPARD
113
SO.
“Not two hours since," rejoined Jack, "I was
chained down in the Condemned Hold in Newgate.
With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since
hy Thames Darrell, which I contrived to .conccal upon
my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with
the aid of some other friends, worked my way out.
Having heard from Thames that you were better, and
that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give
you the first intelligence of my escape.”
“Bless you for it. But
you
will stay here?”
"I dare not. I must provide for my safety."
*** Mr. Wood will protect you," urged Mrs. Sheppard.
“He has not the power-perhaps not the will to do
And if he would, I would not subject him to the
annoyance. The moment my escape is known, a large
reward will be placed on my head. My dress, my
person, will be minutely described. Jonathan Wild
and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited
by the reward, will be upon my track. Nay, for aught
I know, some of them may even now have got scent
"You terrify me,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. "Oh! if
this is the case, do not stay an instant, Fly! fly! ”
"As soon as I can do so with safety, I will return,
or send to you,” said Jack.
“Do not endanger yourself on my account,” re.
joined his mother. “I am quite easy now; receive
my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again,
rest assured
my
last
prayer
shall be for
you."
"Do not talk thus, dear mother," returned Jack,
gazing anxiously at her pale countenance, “or I shall
not be able to quit you. You must live for me."
“I will try to do so," replied the widow, forcing a
smile. “One last embrace. I need not counsel you
to avoid those fatal courses which have placed you in
such fearful jeopardy.”
"You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the
of me.”


114
JACK SHEPPARD
son.
deepest compunction. “And, oh! forgive me, though
I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have
caused you."
“Forgive you !” echoed his mother, with a look
radiant with delight. "I have nothing to forgive.
Ah!” she screamed, with a sudden change of manner;
and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open,
and at which a dark figure was standing, “there is
Jonathan Wild!"
“Betrayed !” exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same
direction. " The door! the door! - death!” he
added, as he tried the handle, “it is locked, and I am
unarmed. Madman that I am to be so !”
“Help!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard.
"Be silent,” said Jonathan, striding deliberately
into the room ;
“these cries will avail you nothing.
Whoever answers them must assist we to capture your
Be silent, I say, if you value his safety."
Awed by Jonathan's manner, Mrs. Sheppard re-
pressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both
mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy
figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight,
seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared
almost to block up the window.
In addition to his customary arms, Jonathan carried
a bludgeon with a large heavy knob, suspended from his
wrist by a loop; a favourite weapon, which he always
took with him on dangerous expeditions, and which,
if
any information had been requisite, would have told
Sheppard that the present was one of them.
“Well, Jack,” he said, after a pause,
are you dis-
posed to go back quietly with me?"
“You'll ascertain that when you attempt to touch
me,” rejoined Sheppard resolutely.
"My janizaries are within call," returned Wild
"I'm armed; you are not.”
“It matters not. You shall not take me alive.”


116
JACK SHEPPARD
"Attend to me, Mrs. Sheppard,” said Jonathan,
looking calmly on at this distressing scene.
" Attend
to me, and do not heed him. I swear to you, solemnly
swear to you, I will save your son's life--nay, more,
will befriend him, will place him out of the reach of
his enemies, if you consent to become my wife.”
“Execrable villain !” exclaimed Jack.
“ You hear that,” cried Mrs. Sheppard ; "he swears
to save you."
"Well,” replied her son; “and you 'spurn the
proposal ?”
"No; she accepts it," rejoined Jonathan triumph-
antly. “Come along, Mrs. Sheppard I've a carriage
within call shall convey you swiftly to town. Come !
Come!”
Hear me, mother,” cried Jack, “and I will explain
to you why the villain makes this strange and revolt-
ing proposal. He well knows that but two lives -
those of Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland Trenchard-
stand between you and the vast possessions of the
family. Those lives removed-and Sir Rowland is
completely in his power—the estates would be yours-
HIS !—if he were your husband. Now do you see his
motive ?"
“I see nothing but your danger," replied his mother
tenderly.
“Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild ;-
"and I shan't take the trouble to contradict you—the
estates would be
your's
hereafter.”
“ Liar !” cried Jack.
you affect ignorance that
I am a condemned felon, and can inherit nothing? But
do not imagine that under any circumstances I would
accept your terms. My mother shall never degrade
herself by a connection with you."
“Degrade herself,” rejoined Jonathan brutally. “Do
you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn't
suit my purposes to do so ?”
6 Do


JACK SHEPPARD
117
“He says right," replied Mrs Sheppard distractedly.
“I am only fit for such as him. Take me! take me!"
“ Before an bour you shall be mine," said Jonathan,
advancing towards her.
“ Back!” cried Jack fiercely; “lay a finger on her,
and I will feil you to the ground Mother! do you know
what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend ?”
* I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you,"
rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp. Jonathan
caught ber in bis arms.
Come away!" hc cricd, with the roar of a demon.
This laugh and his looks alarmed her.
“It is the fiend !” she exclaimed, recoiling. “Save
me!-save mo!”
“ Damnation !" vociferated Jonathan savagely.
“We've no time for any Bedlam scenes now. Come
along, you mad jade. I'll teach you submission in time."
With this he endeavoured to force her off; but, before
he could accomplish his purpose, he was arrested, and
his throat seized by Jack. In the struggle Mrs. Shep-
pard bruke from him and filled the room with her
shricks.
“I'll now pay the debt I owe you," cried Jack,
tightening his gripe till the thief-taker blackened in
'the face.
“Dog !” cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful
effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with a heavy
bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, "you are
not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. Neither you nor
your mother shall escape me. But I must summon my
janizaries.” So saying, he raised a whistle to his lips,
and blew a loud call; and, as this was unanswered,
another still louder. “ Confusion !” he cried, “some-
thing has happened. But I won't be cheated of my
prize."
· Help! help!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard, fleeing from
him to the farthest corner of the room.


118
JACK SHEPPARD
But it was of no avail. Jonathan again seized her,
when the door was thrown open, and Thames Darrell,
followed by Mr. Wood and several serving-men, all well
armed, rushed into the room. A glance sufficed to
show the young man how matters stood. He flew to
the window, and would have passed his sword through
the thief-taker's body, if the latter had not quickly
interposed the person of Mrs. Sheppard, so that if the
blow had been stricken she must have received it.
“Quilt !—Mendez !—Where are you?” vociferated
Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.
“You call in vain,” rejoined Thames. “Your assis.
tants are in my power. Yield, villain !"
“Never !” replied Jonathan.
Put down your burden, monster !” shouted Wood,
pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.
“ Take her,” cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now
inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in
the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leaped through
the window, and by the time the latter could consign
her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared.
“Pursue him," cried Thames to the attendants, “and
see that he does not escape.
The order was promptly obeyed.
"Jack," continued Thames, addressing Sheppard,
who had only just recovered from the blow and re-
gained his feet. “I don't ask how you came here, nor
do I blame your rashness in doing so. Fortunately,
ever since Wild's late murderous attack the household
has all been well armed. A post-chaise seen in the
road first alarmed us. On searching the grounds we
found two suspicious-looking fellows in the garden,
and had scarcely secured them when your mother's
cries summoned us hither just in time to preserve
her.”
“Your arrival was most providential,” said Jack.
“ You must not remain here another instant," replied


I 20
JACK SHEPPARD
He then threw open the door of the vehicle, in which
he found his janizaries with their arms pinioned, and,
leaping into it, ordered the man to drive off. The
postillion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses,
could gallop along the beautıful road leading to Neasdon
and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their
appearance.
Arrived at the latter place, Jonathan, who, mean.
while, had contrived to liberate his attendants from
their bonds, drew up at the Sıx Bells, and hiring a
couple of horses, despatched his attendants in search
of Jack Sheppard, while he proceeded to town. Dis-
missing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked
to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the
escape. It was just upon the stroke of nine as he
entered the Lodge, and Mr. Austin was dismissing a host
of inquirers who had been attracted thither by the news
--for it had already been extensively noised abroad.
Some of these persons were examining the spot where
the spike had been cut off; others the spike itself, now
considered a remarkable object, and all were marvelling
how Jack could have possibly squeezed himself through
such a narrow aperture, until it was explained to them
by Mr. Austin that the renowned housebreaker was of
slender bodily conformation, and therefore able to achieve
a feat which he, Mr. Austin, or any man of similar
dimensions, would have found wholly impossible.
Affixed to the wall, in a conspicuous situation, was
a large placard, which, after minutely describing Shep-
pard's appearance and attire, concluded thus :
" Whoever will discover or apprehend the above JOHN
SHEPPARD, so that he be brought to justice, shall receive
ONE HUNDRED GUINEAS REWARD, to be paid by MR. Pitt,
the keeper of Newgate.”
This placard attracted universal attention. While
Jonathan was conversing with Austin, from whom he


JACK SHEPPARD
121
took care to conceal the fact of his having seen Sheppard
since bis escape, Ireton entered the Lodge.
“Altogether unsuccessful, sir," said the chief turnkey,
with a look of disappointment, not unmixed with appre-
hension, as he approached Wild. “I've been to all the
flash houses in town, and can hear nothing of him or
his wives. First, I went to Country Tom's, the Goat,
in Long Lane Tom swore he hadn't set eyes on him
since the trial I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's,
the Ship, in Trig Lane--there I got the same answer.
Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. Then to the
Golden Ball, in the same street. Then to Martin's
brandy-shop, in Fleet Street. Then to Dan Ware's,
in Hanging-sword Court. Then to the Dean's Head
in Saint Martin's-le-Grand. And, lastly, to the Seven
Cities O' Refuge, in the New Mint. And nowhere
could I obtain the slightest information."
Humph!” exclaimed Wild.
been more successful, sir ?" ventured
Ireton.
Jonathan shook his head.
"Mr. Shotbolt thinks he has a scheme that can't
fail,” interposed Austin ; “but he wishes to know
whether you'll be as good as your word, in respect to
the great reward you offered for Jack's capture."
“Have I ever broken my word in such matters, that
he dares to put the question ?” rejoined Jonathan
sternly. “Tell Mr. Shotbolt that if he, or any other,
takes Jack Sheppard before tomorrow morning, I'll
double it. Do
you
hear ļ.”
“I do, sir," replied Austin respectfully.
“Two hundred pounds, if he's lodged in Newgate
before to-morrow morning," continued Wild. "Make
it known among your friends.” And he strode out of
the place.
"Two hundred pounds !” exclaimed Ireton, “ besides
the governor's offer—that's three hundred. I must go
Have you


I 22
JACK SHEPPARD
but me.
to work again. Keep a sharp look out, Austin, and
see that we lose no one else.
should be sorry if
Shotbolt got the reward.”
“ Devilish hard ! I'm not allowed a chance," grumbled
Austin, as he was left alone. · However, some one must
look after the gaol; and they're all gone
It's
fortunate we've no more Jack Sheppards, or I should
stand but a poor chance. Well, I don't think they'll
any of 'em nab him, that's one comfort.”
On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own
habitation. Telling the porter that he would attend
to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack
Sheppard. There was something in Jonathan's manner,
as he issued this command, that struck the man as
singular, and he afterwards recalled it. He, however,
made no remark at the time, but instantly prepared to
set out.
As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went upstairs to
the audience-chamber, and, sitting down, appeared for
some time buried in reflection. The dark and desperate
thoughts that were passing through his mind, at this
time, will presently be shown. After awhile, he raised
his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed
at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.
Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be
telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvan-
tages of some scheme he had in contemplation. That
he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might
be, was evident, from his saying aloud-
“I will do it. So good an opportunity may never
occur again.”
Upon this he arose, and paced the room hastily
backwards and forwards, as if further arranging his
plans. He then unlocked a cabinet, opened a secret
drawer, and, after ransacking its contents, discovered
a paper he was in search of, and a glove. Laying these
carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place.


124
JACK SHEPPARD
On his return to the room, Jonathan purposely left
the door of the Well Hole ajar. Unlocking a cupboard,
he then took out some cold meat and other viands,
with a flask of wine, and a bottle of brandy, and began
to eat and drink voraciously.
He had very nearly cleared the board, when a knock
was heard below, and descending at the summons, he
found his two janizaries. They had both been un-
successful. As Jonathan scarcely expected a more
satisfactory result, he made no comment; but, order-
ing Quilt to continue his search, and not to return
until he had found the fugitive, called Abraham
Mendez into the house, and shut the door.
“I want you for the job I spoke of a short time ago,
Nab,” he said. “I mean to bave no one but yourself
in it. Come upstairs, and take a glass of brandy."
Abraham grinned, and silently followed his master,
who, as soon as they reached the audience-chamber,
poured out a bumper of spirits and presented it to
him. The Jew swallowed it at a draught.
“By my shoul!” he exclaimed, smacking his lips,
“dat ish goot-very goot."
“You shall finish the bottle when the job's done;"..
replied Jonathan.
“Vat ish it, Misther Vild ?" inquired Mendez.
“Shir Rowland Trenchard's affair---eh?". " It is
“That's it," rejoined Jonathan. “I expect bim here:
every minute. Wben you've admitted him, steal into
the room, hide yourself, and don't move till I utter those
words, “You've a long journey before you.' 11. That's
your signal."
“And a famoush goot signal it isb," laughed:
Abraham. “He hash a long journey before him---
ah ! ah !"
“ Peace!” cried Jonathan. 6. There's his knock.'
Go and let him in. And mind you don't arouse hisi
suspicions.
17


JACK SHEPPARD
125
"Never fear--never fear," rejoined Abraham, as he
took up
the link, and left the room.
Jonathan cast a hasty glance around, to see that all
was properly arranged for his purpose; placed a chair
with its back to the door; disposed the lights on the
table so as to throw the entrance of the room more
into shadow; and then flung himself into a seat, to
await Sir Rowland's arrival. He had not to wait long.
* Enveloped in a large cloak, Sir Rowland stalked
into the room, and took the seat assigned him; while
the Jew, who received a private signal from Jonathan,
*. set down the link near the entrance of the Well Hole,
and having made fast the door, crept behind one of
the cases.
Fancying they were alone, Sir Rowland threw aside
his cloak, and produced a heavy bag of money, which
he flung upon the table; and, when Wild had feasted
his" greedy eyes sufficiently upon its golden contents,
he handed him a pocket-book filled with notes.
“You have bebaved like a man of honour, Şir
Rowland,” said Wild, after he had twice told over the
money. “Right to a farthing.
“Give me an acquittance," said Trenchard.
“ It's scarcely necessary," replied Wild ; "however, if
you require it, certainly. There it is. Received from
Sir Rowland Trenchard, fifteen thousand pounds.
Jonathan Wild : August 31st, 1724.' Will that do ?”
“It will,” replied Trenchard. " This is our last
transaction together.”
“I hope not,” replied Wild.
i w It is the last," continued the knight sternly; "and
I trust we may never meet again. I have paid you
this large sum—not because you are entitled to it, for
you have failed in what you undertook to do, but
because I desire to be troubled with you no further.
I have now settled 'my affairs, and made every pre-
paration for my departure to France, where I shall


JACK SHEPPARD
127
66
"Willingly," replied Wild. “Thinking it likely you
might desire to have this information, I prepared ac-
cordingly. First, look at this glove. It belonged to
his father, and was worn by him on the night he
was murdered. You will observe that a coronet is
embroidered on it."
“ Ha !” exclaimed Trenchard, starting, “is he so
highly born ?"
"This letter will inform you,” replied Wild, placing
a document in his hand.
" What is this?” cried Sir Rowland. I know the
hand-ha! my friend ! and I have murdered him !
And my sister was thus nobly, thus illustriously wedded.
O God! O God !”
And he appeared convulsed with agony.
“Oh! if I had known this,” he exclaimed, “what
guilt, what remorse might have been spared me.
“Repentance comes too late when the deed's done,"
returned Wild bitterly.
" It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done
my nephew,” cried Trenchard. “I will set about it
instantly. He shall have the estates. I will return to
Manchester at once.
“ You had better take some refreshment before you
start," rejoined Wild. " You've a long journey before
you.
As the signal was given, the Jew, who had been some
time in expectation of it, darted swiftly and silently
behind Sir Rowland, and flung a cloth over his head;
while Jonathan, rushing upon him in front, struck him
several quick and violent blows in the face with the
bludgeon. The white cloth was instantly dyed with
crimson ; but, regardless of this, Jonathan continued
his murderous assault.
The struggles of the wounded man were desperate-
so desperate, that in his agony he overset the table,
and, in the confusion, tore off the cloth, and disclosed


130
JACK SHEPPARD
all my precautions I should be thus entrapped. It's
all your fault, you shaking coward ! and, but that I
feel sure you'll swing for your carelessness, I'd throw
you into the well too."
XIII
The Supper at Mr. Kneebone's.
PERSUADED that Jack Sheppard would keep his ap-
pointment with Mr. Kneebone, and feeling certain of
capturing him if he did so, Shotbolt, on quitting New-
gate, hurried to the New Prison to prepare for the
enterprise. After debating with himself for some time
whether he should employ an assistant, or make the
attempt alone, his love of gain overcame his fears, and
he decided upon the latter plan. Accordingly, having
armed himseĪf with various weapons, including a stout
oaken staff, then ordinarily borne by the watch, and
put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready
in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the
expedition.
Before proceeding to Wych Street, he called at the
Lodge to see how matters were going on, and found
Mrs. Spurling and Austin at their evening meal, with
Caliban in attendance.
• Well, Mr. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, “ I've good
news for you. Mr. Wild has doubled his offer, and
the governor has likewise proclaimed a reward of one
hundred guineas for Jack's apprehension.”
“You don't say so !” exclaimed Shotbolt.
"Read that,” rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard.
“I ought to tell you that Mr. Wild's reward is condi-
Monal upon Jack's being taken before to-morrow morn-
ing. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it.”


JACK SHEPPARD
131
* Get
“You think so, eh?” chuckled Shotbolt, who was
eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating him-
self
upon
his caution; "you think so-ha! ha! Well,
don't go to bed, that's all.”
“What for?” demanded the turnkey.
“Because the prisoner's arrival might disturb you-
ha! ha!”
“I'll lay you twenty guineas you don't take him
to-night,” rejoined Austin.
“ Done!” cried Shotbolt. “Mrs. Spurling, you're
a witness to the bet. Twenty guineas, mind. I shan't
let you off a farthing. Egad! I shall make a good
thing of it."
“Never count your chickens till they're hatched,"
observed Mrs. Spurling dryly.
• My chickens are hatched; or, at least, nearly so,"
replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment.
ready your heaviest irons, Austin. I'll send you word
when I catch him.”
“You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey.
“So I will,” rejoined Shotbolt; “so I will. If I
don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in
his stead. Good-bye for the present—ha! ha!”.
And, laughing loudly at his own facetiousness, he
quitted the Lodge.
“I'll lay my life he's gone on a fox-and-goose chase
to Mr. Kneebone's,” remarked Austin, rising to fasten
the door.
"I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. Spurling, as if
struck by a sudden idea. And, while the turnkey
was busy with the keys, she whispered to the black,
“Follow him, Caliban. Take care he don't see you,
and bring me word where he goes, and what he does."
'Iss, missis,” grinned the black.
“Be so good as to let Caliban out, Mr. Austin,” con-
tinued the tapstress ; "he's only going on an errand.”
Austin readily complied with her request. As he


JACK SHEPPARD
:33
gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with
cberry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap,
surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head. “My name
is Kaeebone," added the portly personage, stepping
forward “What do you want with me?"
"A word in private," replied the other.
“Stand aside, Tom," commanded Kneebone. “Now,
sir." he added, glancing suspiciously at the applicant,
your
business ?"
• My business is to acquaint you that Jack Sheppard
has escaped, Mr. Kneebone,” returned Shotbolt.
“The deuce he has! Why, it's only a few hours
since I beheld him chained down with half a hundred-
weight of iron, in the strongest ward at Newgate. It's
almost incredible. Are you sure you're not misin-
formed, sır ?"
"I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the
gaoler.
“Then, of course, you must know. Well, it's
scarcely credible. When I gave him an invitation to
supper, I little thought he'd accept it. But, egad! I
believe he will."
“I'm convinced of it,” replied Shotbolt; "and it
was on that very account I came here."
And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-
draper.
Well, sir,” said Kneebone, when the other con-
cluded, "I shall certainly not oppose his capture, but,
at the same time, I'll lend you no assistance. If he
keeps his word, I'll keep mine. You must wait till
supper's over."
“As you please, sir-provided you don't let him off.”
“That I'll engage not to do. I've another reason for
supposing he'll pay me a visit. I refused to sign a
petition in his behalf to the Recorder ; not from any
ill-will to him, but because it was prepared by a person
whom I particularly dislike-Captain Darrell.”
N


134
JACK SHEPPARD
way,
“A very sufficient reason,” answered the gaoler.
“Tom," continued Kneebone, calling to the shop-
boy, “don't go home. I may want you.
Light the
lantern. And, if you hear any odd noise in the
parlour, don't mind it.”
“Not in the least, sir,” replied Tom, in a drowsy
tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was
too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed
them.
“Now, step this Mr. What's your name ?”
“Shotbolt, sir," replied the gaoler.
“Very well, Mr. Slipshod ; follow me.”
And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle
of which stood a table, covered with a large white
cloth.
"Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, sir,"
observed Shotbolt.
“Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper.
He ought to do, seeing that he served his apprentice-
ship in it to Mr. Wood, by whom it was formerly
occupied. His name is carved upon a beam upstairs."
“ Indeed !” said Shotbolt. “ Where can I hide
myself ?” he added, glancing round the room in search
of a closet.
“ Under the table. The cloth nearly touches the
floor. Give me your staff. It'll be in your way.”
Suppose he brings Blueskin, or some other ruffian
with him,” hesitated the gaoler.
“Suppose he does. In that case I'll help you. We
shall be equally matched. You're not afraid, Mr.
Shoplatch?"
“Not in the least,” replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath
the table ; “there's my staff. Am I quite hidden ?”
“Not quite ;-keep your feet in. Mind you don't
stir till supper's over. I'll stamp twice when we've
done.”
"I forgot to mention there's a trifling reward for his


JACK SHEPPARD
135
capture," cried Shotbolt, popping his head from under
the cloth. “If we take him, I don't mind giving you
a share-say a fourth-provided you lend a helping
hand.”
“Curse your reward !” exclaimed Kneebone angrily.
" Do you take me for a thief-catcher, like Jonathan
Wild, that you dare to affront me by such a proposal ?”
“No offence, sir," replied the gaoler humbly. “I
didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but
I thought it right to make you the offer."
“ Be silent, and conceal yourself. I'm about to ring
for supper."
The woollen-draper's application to the bell was
answered by a very pretty young woman, with dark
Jewish features, roguish black eyes, sleek glossy hair,
a trim waist, and a remarkably neat figure; the very
model, in short, of a bachelor's housekeeper.
“Rachel," said Mr. Kneebone, addressing his comely
attendant, “put a few more plates on the table, and
bring up whatever there is in the larder.
I expect
company."
Company !” echoed Rachel; " at this time of
night?”
Company, child,” repeated Kneebone. "I shall
want a bottle or two of sack, and a flask of usque-
baugh.”
"Anything else, sir ?”
“No-stay! you'd better not bring up any silver
forks or spoons.
“Why, surely you don't think your guests would
steal them?” observed Rachel archly.
“ They shan't have the opportunity,” replied Knee-
bone.
And by way of checking his housekeeper's famili-
arity, he pointed significantly to the table.
“Who's there?” cried Rachel. " I'll see." And
before she could be prevented, she lifted up the cloth.


136
JACK SHEPPARD
and disclosed Shotbolt. “O Gemini !” she exclaimed.
" A man!”
“At your service, my dear,” replied the gaoler.
“Now your curiosity's satisfied, child," continued
Kneebone,“ perhaps you'll attend to
my
orders.”
Not a little perplexed by the mysterious object she
had seen, Rachel left the room, and shortly afterwards
returned with the materials of a tolerably good supper
—to wit, a couple of cold fowls, a tongue, the best part
of a sirloin of beef, a jar of pickles, and two small
dishes of pastry. To these she added the wines and
spirits directed, and, when all was arranged, looked
inquisitively at her master.
“I expect a very extraordinary person to supper,
Rachel,” he remarked.
“The gentleman under the table,” she answered.
“He does seem a very extraordinary person."
“No; another, still more extraordinary."
“ Indeed !-who is it?”
“Jack Sheppard."
“What! the famous housebreaker! I thought he
was in Newgate.”
“ He's let out for a few hours,” laughed Kneebone;
“but he's going back again after supper.”
• Oh, dear! how I should like to see him. I'm
told he's so handsome.”
" I'm
sorry I can't indulge you,” replied her master,
a little piqued. “I shall want nothing more. You
had better go to bed.”
“It's no use going to bed,” answered Rachel. "I
shan't sleep a wink while Jack Sheppard's in the
house.”
Keep in your own room, at all events," rejoined
Kneebone.
Very well,” said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty
head, very well. I'll have a peep at him, if I die
for it," she muttered, as she went out
92


JACK SHEPPARD
139
Behind them stalked Blueskin, enveloped in a rough
greatcoat, called-appropriately enough in this instance
-a wrap-rascal.
Folding his arms, he placed his back against the
door, and burst into a loud laugh. The ladies were,
as usual, very gaily dressed ; and as usual, also, had
resorted to art to heighten their attractions :
From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces,
And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces.
Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée-a sort
of undress, or sack, then much in vogue—which suited
her to admiration, and upon her head had what was
called a fly-cap, with richly laced lappets. Mrs. Maggot
was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with
silver, a hunting-cap, and a flaxen peruke, and, instead
of a whip, carried a stout cudgel.
For a moment, Kneebone had hesitated about giving
the signal to Shotbolt, but, thinking a more favourable
opportunity might occur, he determined not to hazard
matters by undue precipitation.
Placing chairs, therefore, he invited the ladies to be
seated, and, paying a similar attention to Jack, began
to help to the various dishes, and otherwise fulfil the
duties of a host. While this was going on, Blueskin,
seeing no notice whatever taken of him, coughed loudly
and repeatedly. But finding his hints totally disre-
garded, he, at length, swaggered up to the table, and
thrust in a chair. ·
“Excuse me,” he said, plunging his fork into a fowl,
and transferring it to his plate. “This tongue looks
remarkably nice," he added, slicing off an immense
wedge; excuse me -ho! ho!”
“You make yourself at home, I perceive," observed
Kneebone, with a look of ineffable disgust.
“I generally do,” replied Blueskin, pouring out a
bumper of sack. “Your health, Kneebone.”'


140
JACK SHEPPARD
“ Allow me to offer you a glass of usquebaugh, my
dear," said Kneebone, turning from him, and regard.
ing Edgeworth Bess with a stare so impertinent, that
even that not over-delicate young lady summoned up
a blush.
“With pleasure, sir," replied Edgeworth Bess.
“Dear me !” she added, as she pledged the amorous
woollen-draper, “what a beautiful ring that is ?"
“Do you think so ?" replied Kneebone, taking it off
and placing it on her finger, which he took the oppor-
tunity of kissing at the same time; wear it for my
sake."
Oh, dear!” simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavour-
ing to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her
plate.
“ You don't eat," continued Kneebone, addressing
Jack, who had remained for some time thoughtful and
preoccupied, with his head upon his hand.
“ The captain has seldom much appetite," replied
Blueskin, who, having disposed of the fowl, was com-
mencing a vigorous attack upon the sirloin. "I eat
for both.”
“So it seems,” observed the woollen-draper ; "and
for
every one else too."
“I say, Kneebone,” rejoined Blueskin, as he washed
down an immense mouthful with another bumper, “ do
you recollect how nearly Mr. Wild and I were nabbing
you in this very room, some nine years ago ?”
“I do," replied Kneebone ; "and now," he added
aside, “ the case is altered. I'm nearly nabbing you."
“A good deal has occurred since then, eh, captain ?”
said Blueskin, nudging Jack.
“Much that I would willingly forget. Nothing that
I desire to remember," replied Sheppard sternly.
that night—in this room in your presence, Blueskin
-in yours, Mr. Kneebone, Mrs. Wood struck me a
blow which made me a robber,"
.
. On
92


14%
JACK SHEPPARD
you make me other than a condemned felon? Can
you
make me not Jack Sheppard ?"
"No," replied Blueskin; "and I wouldn't if I
could.”
“Curse you !" cried Jack furiously; “curse you !
curse you !”
“Swear away, captain," rejoined Blueskin coolly.
“It'll ease your mind.”
“Do you mock me?” cried Jack, levelling a pistol
at him.
“Not I,” replied Blueskin. “Take my life, if
you're so disposed. You're welcome to it. And let's
see if either of these women, who prate of their love
for you, will do as much.”
“This is folly," cried Jack, controlling himself by a
powerful effort.
“The worst of folly," replied Blueskin, returning to
the table, and taking up a glass; “ and to put an end
to it, I shall drink the health of Jack Sheppard, the
housebreaker, and success to him in all his enterprises.
And now, let's see who'll refuse the pledge."
“I will," replied Sheppard, dashing the glass from
his hand. “Sit down, fool!”
“ Jack," said Kneebone, who had been considerably
interested by the foregoing scene, "are these regrets
for your past life sincere ?"
“Suppose them so," rejoined Jack, “what then?”
"Nothing -- nothing," stammered Kneebone, his
prudence getting the better of his sympathy. "I'm
glad to hear it, that's all,” he added, taking out his
snuff-box, his never-failing resource in such emergencies.
“It won't do to betray the officer,” he muttered.
“Oh, lud! what an exquisite box!” cried Edge-
worth Bess. “Is it gold ?”
“Pure gold,” replied Kneebone. “It was given
me by poor dear Mrs. Wood, whose less I shall over
deplore."


JACK SHEPPARD
143
"Pray, let me have a pinch ?” said Edgeworth Bess,
with a captivating glance. “I'm so excessively food
of snuff."
The woollen-draper replied by gallantly handing her
the box, which was instantly spatched from her by
Blueskin, who, after helping himself to as much of its
contents as he could conveniently squeeze between his
thumb and finger, put it very coolly into his pocket.
The action did not pass unnoticed by Sheppard.
“Restore it,” he cried in an authoritative voice.
“O’ons! captain,” cried Blueskin, as he grumblingly
obeyed the command ; "if you've left off business your-
self, you needn't interfere with other people.”
“I should like a little of that plum-tart," said Mrs.
Maggot; “but I don't see a spoon.”
"I'll ring for one,” replied Kneebone, rising accord-
ingly; “but I fear my servants are gone to bed.”
Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished
his glass, commenced chanting a snatch of a ballad :-
“ Once on a time, as I've heard tell,
In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell ;
A carpenter he was by trade,
and money, 1 believe, he made.
With his foodle doo !
This carpenter he had a wife,
The plague and torment of his life;
Who, though she did her husband scold,
Loved well a woollen-draper bold.
With her foodle doo !”
“I've a toast to propose,” cried Sheppard, filling a
bumper. “You won't refuse it, Mr. Kneebone ?”
“He'd better not,” muttered Blueskin.
“What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he
returned to the table, and took up a glass.
The speedy union of Thames Darrell with Winifred
Wood,” replied Jack.
Kneebone's cheeks glowed with rage, and he set
19


144
JACK SHEPPARD
down the wine untasted, while Blueskin resumed his
song.
“ Now Owen Wood had one fair child,
Unlike her mother, meek and mild ;
Her love the draper strove to gain,
But she repaid him with disdain.
With his foodle doo 1"
-
- Do
6
“ Peace !” cried Jack.
But Blueskin was not to be silenced. He continued
his ditty, in spite of the angry glances of his leader.
“ In vain he fondly urged his suit,
And, all in vain, the question put;
She answered,- Mr. William Kneebone,
Of me, sir, you shall never be bone.'
With your foodle doo/
•Thames Darrell has my heart alone,
A noble youth e'en you must own :
And if from him my love could stir,
Jack Sheppard I should much prefer.'
With his foodle doo ?”
you
refuse
my
toast ?” cried Jack impatiently.
I do,” replied Kneebone.
“ Drink this, then,” roared Blueskin. And pouring
the contents of a small powder-flask into a bumper of
brandy, he tendered him the mixture.
At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel
“What did you ring for, sir ?” she asked, eyeing the
group
with astonishment.
“ Your master wants a few table-spoons, child," said
Mrs. Maggot.
“ Leave the room,” interposed Kneebone angrily.
“No, I shan't,” replied Rachel saucily. “I came
to see Jack Sheppard, and I won't
go
till
you point him
out to me. You told me he was going back to Newgate
after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity.”
“Oh! he told you that, did he?” said Blueskin,
marching up to her, and chucking her under the chin.


JACK SHEPPARD
145
>>
$
“I'll show you Captain Sheppard, my dear. There he
stands. I'm his lieutenant-Lieutenant Blueskin.
We're two good-looking fellows, ain't we?”
“Very good-looking," replied Rachel. “ But where's
the strange gentleman I saw under the table ?"
“ Under the table !” echoed Blueskin, winking at
Jack “When did you see him, my love ?”
“A short time ago," replied the housekeeper un-
suspiciously.
“The plot's out !” cried Jack.
And, without another word, he seized the table with
both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes,
bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. The crash
was tremendous. The lights rolled over, and were
extinguished. And, if Rachel had not carried a
candle, the room would have been plunged in total
darkness.
Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and
levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to
surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the
gaoler's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing
himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. In the
struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to
either party.
The conflict was of short duration ; for Shotbolt
was no match for his athletic antagonist. He was
speedily disarmed; and the rope and gag being found
upon him, were exultingly turned against him by
his conqueror, who, after pinioning his arms tightly
behind his back, forced open his mouth with the iron,
and effectually prevented the utterance of any further
outcries.
While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked
up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life,
not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which
the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her
fears, received in very good part. In the interim, Jack


146
JACK SHEPPARD
trusted you.
advanced to the woollen-draper, and regarding him.
sternly, thus addressed him :-
“You have violated the laws of hospitality, Mr.
Kneebone. I came hither as your guest. You have
betrayed me."
“What faith is to be kept with a felon?” replied
the woollen-draper disdainfully
“He who breaks faith with his benefactor may well
justify himself thus," answered Jack. “I have not
Others who bave done, have fouod you
false."
"I don't understand you,” replied Kneebone, ia some
confusion.
“You soon shall," rejoined Sheppard
" Where are
the packets committed to your charge by Sir Rowlaad
Trenchard ?”
“The packets !" exclaimed Kneebone, in alarm.
“It is useless to deny it,” replied Jack.
watched to-night by Blueskin. You net Sic Rowland
at the house of a Romish priest, Father Spencer Two
packets were committed to your charge, which you
undertook to deliver one to another priest, Sir
Rowland's chaplain, at Manchester—the other to Mr.
Wood. Produce them ! "
“Never !" replied Kneebone.
Then, by Heaven, you are a dead man!” replied
Jack, cocking a pistol, and pointing it deliberately at
his head. “I give you one minute for reflection.
After that time, nothing shall save you."
There was a brief, breathless pause. Even Blueskin
looked on with anxiety.
“It is past,” said Jack, placing his finger on the
trigger.
“Hold !” cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets;
“they are nothing to me."
“But they are everything to me," cried Jack, stooping
to pick them up. “These packets will establish Thames
6. You were


JACK SHEPPARD
147
6 Now,
Darrell's birth, win him his inheritance, and procure
him the hand of Winifred Wood.”
“Don't be too sure of that,” rejoined Kneebone,
snatching up the staff, and aiming a blow at his head,
which was fortunately warded off by Mrs. Maggot, who
promptly interposed her cudgel.
“Defend yourself !” cried Jack, drawing his sword.
“Leave his punishment to me, Jack," said Mrs.
Maggot. “I've the Bridewell account to settle."
“ Be it so," replied Jack, putting up his blade.
“I've a good deal to do. Show him no quarter, Poll.
He deserves none."
“And shall find none,” replied the Amazon.
Mr. Kneebone,” she added, drawing up her magnificent
figure to its full height, and making the heavy cudgel
whistle through the air, “look to yourself."
“Stand off, Poll,” rejoined the woollen-draper; “I
don't want to hurt you. It shall never be said that I
raised my arm willingly against a woman.
“I'll forgive you all the harm you do me,” rejoined
the Amazon. “What! you still hesitate? Will that
rouse you, coward ?”
And she gave him a smart rap on the head.
“Coward !” cried Kneebone. “Neither man nor
woman shall apply that term to me. If you forget
your sex, jade, I must forget mine.”
With this he attacked her vigorously in his turn.
It was a curious sight to see how this extraordinary
woman, who, it has been said, was not less remarkable
for the extreme delicacy of her features, and the fault-
less symmetry of her figure, than for her wonderful
strength and agility, conducted herself in the present
encounter; with what dexterity she parried every blow
aimed against her by her adversary, whose head and
face, already marked by various ruddy streams, showed
how successfully her own hits had been made—how
she drew him hither and thither, now leading him on,


148
JACK SHEPPARD
now driving him suddenly back; harassing and ex
hausting him in every possible way, and making it
apparent that she could at any moment put an end to
the fight, and only delayed the finishing stroke to make
bis punishment the more severe
Jack, meanwhile, with Blueskin's assistance, had set
the table once more upon its legs, and placing writing
materials, which he took from a shelf, upon it, made
Shotbolt, who was still gagged, but whose arms were
for the moment unbound, sit down before them.
“ Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the
gaoler's hand and a pistol to his ear.
Shotbolt nodded in token of acquiescence, and
emitted an odd guttural sound.
“Write as follows," continued Jack. "I have such
ceeded in capturing Jack Sheppard. The reward is
mine. Get all ready for his reception. In a few
minutes after the delivery of this note he will be in
Newgate.' Sign it,” he added, as, after some further
threats, the letter was indited according to his dicta-
tion, “and direct it to Mr. Austin. That's well.' And
now, to find a messenger.”
“Mr. Kneebone's man is in the shop,” said Rachel ;
“ he'll take it.”
“Can I trust him ?” mused Jack. “Yes; he'll
suspect nothing. Give him this letter, child, and bid
him take it to the Lodge at Newgate, without loss
of time. Blueskin will go with you, for fear of a
mistake."
“You might trust me,” said Rachel, in an offended
tone; 66 but never mind.”
And she left the room with Blueskin, who very
politely offered her his arm. Meanwhile, the combat
between Kneebone and Mrs. Maggot had been brought
to a termination. When the woollen-draper was nearly
worn out, the Amazon watched her opportunity, and
hitting him on the arm, disabled it


JACK SHEPPARD
149
“ That's for Mrs. Wood,” she cried, as the staff fell
from his grasp
“I'm at your mercy, Poll,” rejoined Kneebone
abjectly.
“That's for Winifred," vociferated the Amazon,
bringing the cudgel heavily upon his shoulder.
“Damnation !" cried Kneebone.
“That's for myself,” rejoined Mrs. Maggot, dealing
him a blow, which stretched him senseless on the floor.
“Bravo, Poll!” cried Jack, who, having again
pinioned Shotbolt, was now tracing a few hasty lines
on a sheet of paper. “You've given him a broken
head, I perceive."
“He'll scarcely need a plaster,” replied Mrs. Maggot,
laughing Here, Bess, give me the cord, and I'll tie
him to this chest of drawers. I don't think he'll come
to himself too soon. But it's best to be on the safe
side.”
Decidedly so," replied Edgeworth Bess ; "and I'll
take this opportunity, while Jack's back is turned-for
he's grown so strangely particular—of easing him of
his snuff-box. Perhaps,” she added, in a whisper, as
she appropriated the before-named article," he has a
pocket-book."
“Hush !” replied Mrs. Maggot; “Jack will hear
you. We'll come back for that by-and-by, and the
dressing-gown."
At this moment, Rachel and Blueskin returned.
Their momentary absence seemed to have worked
wonders; for now the most perfect understanding
appeared to subsist between them.''
“Have you sent off the note ?” inquired Jack.
“We have, captain," replied Blueskin.
“I say we,
because Miss achel and have struck up a match.
Shall I bring off anything?” he added, looking eagerly
around.
"No," replied Jack peremptorily


150
JACK SHEPPARD
Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a
handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as
completely to conceal his features, clapped his hat
upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. He
next seized the unlucky gaoler, and forced him along,
while Blueskin expedited bis movements by administer-
ing a few kicks behind. When they got to the door,
Jack opened it, and mimicking the voice of the gaoler,
shouted
“Now, my lads, all's ready!"
Here we are,” cried the chairmen, hurryiog out of
the court with their swingiag vehicle, “where is he?'
“Here," replied Sheppard, dragging out Shotbolt by
the collar, while Blueskin pusbed him bebiad, and Mrs.
Maggot held up a lantern, which she found in the shop.
“In with him!”
“Ay-ay, yer hon'r,” cried the foremost chairman,
lending a helping hand. “Get in wid ye, ye villın!
And despite his resistance, Shotbolt was thrust into the
chair, which was instantly fastened upon him.
There, he's as safe as Jack Sheppard in the Con-
demned Hould," laughed the man.
“Off with you to Newgate !” cried Jack; 66 and don't
let him out till you get inside the Lodge. There's a
letter for the head turnkey, Mr. Ireton. D'ye hear?”
“Yes, yer hon's,” replied the chairman, taking the
note.
“What are you waiting for?" asked Jack impatiently.
“ The gen'l’man as hired us,” replied the chairman.
“Oh! he'll be after you directly. He's settling an
account in the house. Lose no time. The letter will
explain all.”
The chair was then rapidly put in motion, and speedily
disappeared.
“What's to be done next?” cried Blueskin, returning
to Rachel, who was standing with Edgeworth Bess near
the door.
A


JACK SHEPPARD
151
“I shall go back and finish my supper," said Mrs.
Maggot.
"And so sball I,” replied Edgeworth Bess.
“Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses.
“Here we part—perhaps for ever. I've already told
you I'm about to take a long journey, and it's more
than probable I shall never return.”
"Don't say so," cried Mrs. Maggot. “I should be
perfectly miserable if I tbought you in earnest."
"The very idea is dreadful," whimpered Edgeworth
Bess.
“Farewell !" cried Jack, embracing them. “Take
this key to Baptist Kettleby. On seeing it, he'll deliver
you a box, which it will unlock, and in which you'll
find a matter of fifty guineas and a few trinkets. Divide
the money between you, and wear the ornaments for
my sake. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't
meddle with anything in that house.”
“Not for worlds !” exclaimed both ladies together.
"Farewell !" cried Jack, breaking from them, and
rushing down the street.
“What shall we do, Poll ?” hesitated Edgeworth Bess.
“Go in, to be sure, simpleton,” replied Mrs. Maggot,
“and bring off all we can.
I know where everything
valuable is kept. Since Jack has left us, what does it
matter whether he's pleased or not?”
At this moment, a whistle was heard.
“Coming!” cried Blueskin, who was still lingering
with Rachel. “The captain's in such a desperate hurry
that there's no time for love-making.
Adieu ! my
charmer. You'll find those young ladies extremely
agreeable acquaintances. Adieu !”
And, snatching a hasty kiss, he darted after Jack.
The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was
transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. Arrived there,
the porters thundered at the massive door of the Lodge,
which was instantly opened-Shotbolt's note having


152
JACK SHEPPARD
66
been received just before. All the turnkeys were
assembled.
Ireton and Langley had returned from a second
unsuccessful search; Marvel had come thither to bid
good-night to Mrs. Spurling; Austin had never quitted
his post. The tapstress was full of curiosity, but she
appeared more easy than the others. Behind her stood
Caliban, chuckling to himself, and grinning from ear
to ear.
“Well, who'd have thought of Shotbolt beating us
all in this way!” said Ireton. “ I'm sorry for old
Newgate that another gaol should have it It's ipfer-
naily provoking.”
“Infernally provoking," echoed Langley.
Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me,"
growled Austin.
“ I've lost my wager.
* Twenty pounds,” rejoined Mrs. Spurling.
I
witnessed the bet."
“Here he is,” cried Ireton, as the knocking was heard
without. “Get ready the irons, Caliban."
"Wait a bit, massa,” replied the grinning negro-
"lilly bit-see all right fust."
By this time the chair had been brought into the
Lodge.
“You've
got
him ?." demanded Ireton.
Safe inside," replied the chairman, wiping the heat
from his brow; “ we've run all the way.”
" Where's Mr. Shotbolt?" asked Austin.
“The gen'l'man'll be here directly. He was detained.
T'other gen’lman said the letter 'ud explain all.”
“ Detained," echoed Marvel. " That's odd. But
let us see the prisoner.”
The chair was then opened.
“Shotbolt ! by — cried Austin, as the captive was
dragged forth. " I've won after all.” Exclamations of
wonder burst from all. Mrs. Spurling bit her lips to con-
ceal ber mirth. Caliban absolutely crowed with delight.


JACK SHEPPARD
153
“Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal.
". This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt
to apprehend me. It is signed JACK SHEPPARD.”
“And so Jack Sheppard has sent back Shotbolt in
this pickle," said Langley.
“So it appears," replied Marvel. “Untie his arms,
and take off that handkerchief. The poor fellow's half
smothered.”
“I guess what share you've had in this," whispered
Austin to Mrs. Spurling
“Never mind," replied the tapstress. “You've won
your wager."
Half-an-hour after this occurrence, when it had been
sufficiently laughed at and discussed; when the wager
had been settled, and the chairmen dismissed with the
remaining three guineas, which Shotbolt was compelled
to pay; Ireton arose, and signified his intention of
stepping across the street to inform Mr. Wild of the
circumstance.
“As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to
bed," he observed, “I'll take the pass-key, and let
myself in. Mr. Wild is sure to be up. He never retires
to rest till daybreak-if at all. Come with me, Langley,
and bring the lantern.”
XIV
How Jack Sheppard was again Captured.
JACK SHEPPARD, after whistling to Blueskin, hurried
down a short thoroughfare leading from Wych Street
to the back of Saint Clement's Church, where he found
Thames Darrell, who advanced to meet him.
“I was just going," said Thames.
“When I parted
from you at Mr. Kneebone's door, you begged me to


154
JACK SHEPPARD
await your return here, assuring me you would not
detain me five minutes. Instead of which, more than
half-an-hour has elapsed.”
“ You won't complain of the delay, when I tell you
what I've done," answered Jack " I've obtained two
packets containing letters from Sir Rowland Trenchard,
which I've no doubt will establish your title to the
estates. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable
to you as I desire."
* Jack,” replied Thames, greatly moved, “I wish I
could devise any means of brightening your own dark
prospects.”
"That's impossible," replied Jack. "I am utterly
lost.”
Not utterly," rejoined the other.
“Utterly," reiterated Jack gloomily-"as regards all
I hold dear. Listen to me, Thames. I'm about to
leave this country for ever. Having ascertained that
a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak
to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her,
and have already had the few effects I possess conveyed
on board. Blueskin goes with me. The faithful fellow
will never leave me.
“Never, while I've breath in my body, captain,"
rejoined Blueskin, who had joined them. England
or France, London or Paris, it's all one to me, so I've
you to command me."
“Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader. " I'll
call you when you're wanted."
And Blueskin withdrew.
“I cannot but approve the course you are about to
take, Jack," said Thames, "though on some accounts
I regret it. In after years you can return to your own
country-to your friends."
"Never," replied Sheppard bitterly. “My friends
need not fear my return. They shall hear of me no
more. Under another name—not my own hateful one


JACK SHEPPARD
155
· And now,
- I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign
service, and wio myself a reputation, or perish honour-
ably. But I will never-never return."
“I will not attempt to combat your resolution, Jack,
returned Thames, after a pause.
“ But I dread the
effect your departure may have upon your poor mother.
Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it.”
“I wish you hadn't mentioned her,” said Jack, in a
broken voice, while his whole frame shook with emotion.
“What I do is for the best, and I can only hope she
may have strength to bear the separation. You must
say farewell to her, for I cannot. I don't ask you to
supply my place--for that is perhaps impossible. But
be like a son to her.”
“Do not doubt me,” replied Thames, warmly pressing
his hand.
I've one further request,” faltered Jack,
“though I scarcely know how to make it. It is to set
me right with Winifred. Do not let her think worse
of me than I deserve or even so ill. Tell her, that
more than once, when about to commit some desperate
offence, I have been restrained by her gentle image.
If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also
saved me many a crime. Will
you
tell her that?”
"I will," replied Thames earnestly.
Enough,” said Jack, recovering his composure.
“And now to your own concerns.
Blueskin, who has
been on the watch all night, has dogged Sir Rowland
Trenchard to Jonathan Wild's house; and, from the
mysterious manner in which he was admitted by the
thief-taker's confidential servant, Abraham Mendez,
and not by the regular porter, there is little doubt but
they are alone, and probably making some arrange-
ments prior to our uncle's departure from England.”
"Is he leaving England 7” demanded Thames in
astonishment.
“He sails to-morrow morning, in the very veszel by


156
JACK SHEPPARD
which I start," replied Jack. "Now if, as I suspect
--from the documents just placed in your possession--
Sir Rowland meditates doing you justice after his de
parture, it is possible his intentions may be frustrated
by the machinations of Wild, whose interest is obviously
to prevent such an occurrence, unless we can surprise
them together, and, by proving to Sir Rowland that we
possess the power of compelling a restitution of your
rights, force the other treacherous villain into compli-
ance. Jonathan, in all probability, knows nothing of
these packets; and their production may serve to in-
timidate him. Will you venture ?”
“It is a hazardous experiment," said Thames, after
a moment's reflection; "but I will make it. You
must not, however, accompany me, Jack. The risk I
run is nothing to yours.”
“I care for no risk, provided I can serve you,” re-
joined Sheppard. “Besides, you'll not be able to get
in without me. It won't do to knock at the door, and
Jonathan Wild's house is not quite so easy of entrance
as Mr. Wood's."
“I understand," replied Thames; “be it as you
will."
“ Then we'll lose no more time," returned Jack.
“Come along, Blueskin.”
Starting at a rapid pace in the direction of the Old
Bailey, and crossing Fleet Bridge, "for oyster tubs
renowned,” the trio skirted the right bank of the
muddy stream until they reached Fleet Lane, up which
they hurried.
Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane,
they arrived at the mouth of a dark narrow alley, into
which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity,
found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a
large gloomy habitation. A door in this house opened
upon the yard. Jack tried it, and found it locked.
“If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master


JACK SHEPPARD
157
this obstacle," he muttered. “We shall be obliged to
force it.”
“Try the cellar, captain," said Blueskin, stamping
upon a large board in the ground. “ Here's the door.
This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy
plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his
infernal dwelling. I've seen him often do it.”
While making these remarks, Blueskin contrived, by
means of a chisel which he chanced to have about
him, to lift up the board, and introducing his fingers
beneath it, with Jack's assistance speedily opened it
altogether, disclosing a dark hole, into which he leapt.
“Follow me, Thames,” cried Jack, dropping into
the chasm.
They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of
which was a door. It was fastened inside. But,
taking the chisel from Blueskin, Jack quickly forceð
back the bolt.
As they entered the room beyond, a fierce grow.
was heard.
“Let me go first," said Blueskin; "the dogs know
Soho! boys."
And, walking up to the animals, which were chained
to the wall, they instantly recognised him, and suffered
the others to pass without barking.
Groping their way through one or two dark and
mouldy-smelling vaults, the party ascended a flight of
steps, which brought them to the hall.
As Jack conjectured, no one was there; and, though
a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon
proceeding without it. They then swiftly mounted
upon the stairs, and stopped before the audience-
chamber. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack
listened, but could detect no sound. He next cautiously
tried the door, but found it fastened inside.
“I fear we're too late,” he whispered to Thames.
“ But we'll soon see. Give me the chisel, Blueskin.”
me.


158
JACK SHEPPARD
And dexterously applying the implement, he forced
open the lock.
guard."
They then entered the room, wbich was perfectly
dark.
“This is strange,” said Jack, under his breath.
“Sir Rowland must be gone. And yet. I don't know.
The key's in the lock, on the inner side. Be on your
"I am so," replied Thames, who had followed him
closely.
“Shall I fetch the light, captain ?" whispered Blue-
skin.
“Yes," replied Jack. “I don't know bow it is,” he
added, in a low voice, to Thames, as they were left
alone, " but I've a strange foreboding of ill. My heart
fails me.
I almost wish we hadn't come.”
As he said this, he moved forward a few paces,
when, finding his feet glued to the ground by some
adhesive substance, he stooped to feel what it was, but
instantly withdrew his hand, with an exclamation of
horror.
“God in heaven !” he cried, “the floor is covered
with blood. Some foul murder has been committed !
The light !—the light !”
Astounded at his cries, Thames sprang towards him.
At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp,
and revealed a horrible spectacle—the floor deluged
with blood-various articles of furniture upset-papers
scattered about—the murdered man's cloak, trampled
upon and smeared with gore-bis hat crushed and
similarly stained-his sword—the ensanguined cloth-
with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous
deed. Farther on, there were impressions of bloody
footsteps along the floor.
“Sir Rowland is murdered !” cried Jack, as soon as
he could find a tongue.
“It is plain he has been uestroyed by his perfidious


JACK SHEPPARD
159
accomplice,” rejoined Tbames. "O God! how fear-
fully my father is avenged !"
" True," replied Jack sternly; "but we have our
uncle to avenge
What's this?” he added, stooping
to pick up a piece of paper Iyiag at his feet-it was
Jonathan's memorandum. “This is the explanation
of the bloody deed."
“Here's a pocket-book full of notes, and a heavy bag
of gold," said Blueskia, examining the articles on the
floor.
“The sum which incited the villain to the murder,"
replied Jack
“ But he can't be far off. He must be
gooe to dispose of the body. We shall have him on
his return
"I'll see where these footsteps lead to,” said Blue-
skin, holding the light to the door.
6. Here are some
more papers, captain.”
“Give them to me,” replied Jack. “Ah!” he
exclaimed, “a letter, beginning 'Dearest Aliva'-
that's your mother's name, Thames."
“Let me see it,” cried Thames, snatching it from
him. “It is addressed to my mother,” he added, as
his eye glanced rapidly over it, “and by my father.
At length I shall ascertain my name. Bring the light
this way-quick! I cannot decipher the signature."
Jack was about to comply with the request, when
an unlooked-for interruption occurred. Having traced
the footsteps to the wall, and perceiving no outlet,
Blueskin elevated the lamp, and discovered marks of
bloody fingers on the boards.
“He must have gone this way,” muttered Blueskin.
“I've often heard of a secret door in this room, though
I never saw it. It must be somewhere hereabouts.
Ah!” he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob
in the wall, “there's the spring !”
He touched it, and the door flew open. The next
moment he was felled to the ground by Jonathan


160
JACK SHEPPARD
Wiid, who sprang into the room, followed by Abraham,
bearing the link.
A single glance served to show the thief-taker how
matters stood. From the slight sounds that had reached
him in his place of confinement, he was aware that
some persons had found their way to the scene of
slaughter, and in a state of the most intense anxiety
awaited the result of their investigation, prepared for
the worst. Hearing the spring touched he dashed
through on the instant, and struck down the person
who presented himself, with his bludgeon On behold-
ing the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and
he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them,
which could only be likened to the cry of some savage
denizen of the plains
On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head.
But his hand was with held by Thames.
“ Don't fire," cried the latter " It is important not
to slay him. He shall expiate his offences on the gibbet.
You are my prisoner, murderer.”
“ Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan derisively. “You
mistake, you are mine. And so is your companion-
the convict Sheppard.”
“Waste not another word with him, Thames,” cried
Jack. “Upon him.”
"Yield, villain, or die!” shouted Thames, drawing
his sword, and springing towards him.
“There's my answer!” rejoined Wild, hurling the
bludgeon at him, with such fatal effect, that, striking
him on the head, it brought him instantly to the ground.
"Ah! traitor !” cried Jack, pulling the trigger of
his pistol.
Anticipating this, Wild avoided the shot by suddenly
ducking his head. He had a narrow escape, however;
for, passing within an inch of him, the bullet buried
itself deeply in the wall. Before he could fire a second
shot, Jack had to defend himself from the thief-taker,


JACK SHEPPARD
161
who, with his drawn hanger furiously assaulted him.
Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the
scabbard, and a desperate conflict began,
“Pick up that blade, Nab,” vociferated Wild, finding
himself hotly pressed, “and stab him. I won't give
him a chance."
"Cowardly villain !” cried Jack, as the Jew, obeying
the orders of his principal, snatched up the
weapon of
the murdered man, and assailed him.
“But I'll yet
disappoint you."
And, springing backwards, he darted suddenly through
the door.
“After him," cried Wild ; "he mustn't escape.
Dead or alive, I'll have him. Bring the link.”
And, followed by Abraham, he rushed out of the
room.
Just as Jack got half way down the stairs, and Wild
and the Jew reached the upper landing, the street-door
was opened by Langley and Ireton, the latter of whom
carried a lantern.
“Stop him !” shouted Jonathan from the stair-head,
"stop him! It's Jack Sheppard !”
“Give way!” cried Jack fiercely. “I'll cut down
him who opposes me.”
The head turnkey, in all probability, would have
obeyed. But, being pushed forward by his subordinate
officer, he was compelled to make a stand.
“You'd better surrender quietly, Jack,” he cried ;
“ you've no chance."
Instead of regarding him, Jack glanced over the iron
banisters, and measured the distance. But the fall was
too great, and he abandoned the attempt.
“We have him!” cried Jonathan, hurrying down
" He can't escape."
As this was said, Jack turned with the swiftness of
thought, and shortening his sword, prepared to plunge
it into the thief-taker's heart. Before he could make
the steps.


162
JACK SHEPPARD
the thrust, however, he was seized behind by Ireton,
who flung himself upon
him.
“Caught!" shouted the head turnkey. “I give
you joy of the capture, Mr. Wild,” he added, as Jonathan
came up and assisted him to secure and disarm the
prisoner. “I was coming to give you intelligence of a
comical trick played by this rascal, when I find him
here—the last place, I own, where I should have ex-
pected to find him.”
“ You've arrived in the very nick of time," rejoined
Jonathan; " and I'll take care your services are not
overlooked.”
“Mr. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most
urgent entreaty, “ before you take me hence, I implore
you—if you would further the ends of justice-search
this house. One of the most barbarous murders ever
committed has just been perpetrated by the monster
Wild. You will find proofs of the bloody deed in his
room. But
go thither at once, I beseech you, before he
has time to remove them."
“ Mr. Ireton is welcome to search every room in my
house if he pleases,” said Jonathan, in a tone of bravado.
“As soon as we've conveyed you to Newgate, I'll
accompany him."
“Mr. Ireton will do no such thing,” replied the head
turnkey.
66 Bless your
soul! d'ye think I'm to be gam-
moned by such nonsense? Not I. I'm not such a
greenhorn as Shotbolt, Jack, whatever you may think.”
“For mercy's sake, go upstairs," implored Sheppard.
“I have not told you half. There's a man dying-
Captain Darrell. Take me with you. Place a pistol
to my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false."
“ And what good would that do?” replied Ireton
sarcastically “ To shoot you would be to lose the
reward. You act your part capitally, but it won't do."
“Won't you go ?” cried Jack passionately. “Mr.
Langley, I appeal to you. Murder, I say, has been


JACK SHEPPARD
163
done! Another murder will be committed, if you
don't prevent it. The blood will rest on your head.
Do
you
hear
me, sir ? Won't you stir?”
“Not a step,” replied Langley gruffly.
“Off with him to Newgate!” cried Jonathan,
“ Ireton, as you captured him, the reward is yours.
But I request that a third may be given to Langley."
“ It shall be, sir," replied Ireton, bowing.
6 Now
come along, Jack.”
“Miscreants !" cried Sheppard, almost driven frantic
by the violence of his emotions; "you're all in league
with him.”
“ Away with him!” cried Jonathan. “I'll see him
fettered myself. Remain at the door, Nab,” he added,
loitering for a moment behind the others, " and let no
one in or out."
Jack, meanwhile, was carried to Newgate. Austin
could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him.
Shotbolt, who had in some degree recovered from the
effects of his previous mortification, was thrown into an
ecstasy of delight, and could not sufficiently exult over
the prisoner. Mrs. Spurling had retired for the night.
Jack appealed to the new auditors, and again detailed
his story, but with no better success than heretofore.
His statement was treated with derision. Having seen
him heavily ironed, and placed in the Condemned Hold,
Jonathan recrossed the street.
He found Abraham on guard as he had left him.
“ Has any one been here?” he asked.
“No von,” replied the Jew.
“That's well,” replied Wild, entering the house, and
fastening the door. “And now to dispose of our dead.
Why, Nab, you shake as if you'd got an ague ?” he
added, turning to the Jew, whose teeth chattered
audibly.
“I haven't quite recovered the fright I got in the
Vell Hole,” replied Abraham.


164
JACK SHEPPARD
On returning to the audience-chamber, Jonathan
found the inanimate body of Thames Darrell lying
where he had left it; but, on examining it, he remarked
that the pockets were turned inside out, and had
evidently been rifled. Startled by this circumstance,
he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door-
which has been mentioned as communicating with a
secret staircase—was open.
He next discovered that Blueskin was gone; and,
pursuing his scrutiny, found that he had carried off all
the bank-notes, gold, and letters—including, what
Jonathan himself was not aware of, the two packets
which he had abstracted from the person of Thames.
Uttering a terrible imprecation, Jonathan snatched
up the link, and hastily descended the stairs, leaving
the Jew behind him. After a careful search below,
he could detect no trace of Blueskin. But, finding
the cellar-door open, concluded he had got out that
way.
Returning to the audience-chamber in a by no means
enviable state of mind, he commanded the Jew to throw
the body of Thames into the Well Hole. “You musht
do dat shob yourself, Mishter Vild,” rejoined Abraham,
shaking his head. “No pripe shall indush me to enter
dat horrid plashe again.
“Fool !" cried Wild, taking up the body, “what are
you afraid of? After all,” he added, pausing, “ he may
be of more use to me alive than dead.” Adhering to
this change of plan, he ordered Abraham to follow
him, and, descending the secret stairs once more,
carried the wounded man into the lower part of the
premises. Unlocking several doors, he came to a dark
vault, that would have rivalled the gloomiest cell in
Newgate, into which he thrust Thames, and fastened
the door.
“Go to the pump, Nab,” he said, when this was
done, “and fill a pail with water. We must wash


JACK SHEPPARD
165
out those stains upstairs, and burn the cloth. Blood,
they say, won't come out. But I never found any
truth in the saying. When I've had an hour's rest,
I'll be after Blueskin."
XV
How Blueskin underwent the Peine Forte et Dure.
As soon as it became known, through the medium of
the public prints on the following day, that Jack
Sheppard had broken out of prison, and had been
again captured during the night, fresh curiosity was
excited, and larger crowds than ever focked to New-
gate, in the hope of obtaining admission to his cell ;
but, by the governor's express commands, Wild having
privately counselled the step, no one was allowed to
see him.
A question next arose whether the prisoner could be
executed under the existing warrant—some inclining
to one opinion, some to another. To settle the point,
the governor started to Windsor, delegating his trust
in the interim to Wild, who took advantage of his
brief rule to adopt the harshest measures towards the
prisoner. He had him removed from the Condemned
Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most
sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust
into the Stone Hold—already described as the most
noisome cell in the whole prison, Here, without a
glimpse of daylight; visited by no one except Austin
at stated intervals, who neither answered a question
nor addressed a word to him ; fed upon the worst diet,
literally mouldy bread and ditch-water ; surrounded by
stone walls; with a flagged floor for his pillow, and
without so much as a blanket to protect him from the


166
JACK SHEPPARD
death-like cold that pierced his frame-Jack's stout
heart was subdued, and he fell into the deepest dejec-
tion, ardently longing for the time when even a violent
death should terminate his suffering.
But it was not so ordered. Mr. Pitt returned with
intelligence that the warrant was delayed, and, on
taking the opinion of two eminent lawyers of the day,
Sir William Thomson and Mr. Serjeant Raby, it was
decided that it must be proved, in a regular and judicial
manner, that Sheppard was the identical person who
had been convicted and had escaped, before a fresh
order could be made for his execution; and that the
matter must, therefore, stand over until the next
sessions, to be held at the Old Bailey in October, when
it could be brought before the court.
The unfortunate prisoner, meanwhile, who was not
informed of the respite, languished in his horrible
dungeon, and, at the expiration of three weeks, became
80 seriously indisposed that it was feared he could not
long survive. He refused his food, and even when
better provisions were offered him rejected them.
As his death was by no means what Jonathan do
sired, he resolved to remove him to a more airy ward,
and afford him such slight comforts as might tend
to his restoration, or at least keep him alive until the
period of execution.
With this view Jack was carried—for he was no
longer able to move without assistance to a ward
called the Castle, situated over the gateway on the
western side, in what was considered the strongest
part of the gaol. The walls were of immense thick-
ness; the small windows double-grated and unglazed ;
the fireplace was without a grate; and a barrack-bed,
divided into two compartments, occupied one corner.
It was about twelve feet high, pine wide, and fourteen
long, and was approached by double doors, each six
inches thick.


168
JACK SHEPPARD
efforts of all the four partners to put him into irons.
It appeared from what he said that he had been
captured when asleep — that his liquor had been
drugged — otherwise, he would never have allowed
himself to be taken alive. Wild, he asserted, had
robbed him of a large sum of money, and until it was
restored he would never plead.
“We'll see that,” replied Jonathan. "Take him to
the Bilbowes. Put him in the stocks, and there let him
sleep off his drunken fit. Whether he pleads or not he
shall swing with his confederate, Jack Sheppard."
At this allusion to his leader a shudder passed through
Blueskin's athletic frame.
“ Where is he?” he cried. “ Let me see him Let
me have a word with him, and you may take all the
money."
Jonathan made no answer, but motioned the partners
to take him away.
As soon as Blueskin was removed, Wild intimated
his intention of visiting the Castle. He was accom:
panied by Ireton and Austin. The massive door was
unlocked, and they entered the cell. What was their
surprise to find it vacant, and the prisoner gone !
Jonathan could scarcely believe his eyes. He looked
fiercely and inquiringly from one to the other of his
companions; but, though both of them were excessively
frightened, neither appeared guilty. Before a word
could be said, however, a slight noise was heard in
the chimney, and Jack, with his irons on, descended
from it. Without betraying the slightest confusion,
or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his
seat.
“ Amazement!” cried Wild. “ How has he un-
fastened his padlock? Austin, it must be owing to
your negligence."
“My negligence, Mr. Wild," said the turnkey, tremb
ling in every joint. “I assure you, sir, when I lafa


JACK SHEPPARD
169
him an hour ago, it was locked. I tried it myself, sir.
I'm as much astonished as you. But I can't account
for it!”
“At all events, you shall answer for it,” thundered
Wild, with a bitter imprecation.
“He's not to blame,” said Jack, rising. “I opened
the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the
floor. If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there
hadn't been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered
my progress, I should have been beyond your reach.”
“ You talk boldly," replied Wild. : Go to the Iron
Hold, Austin, and tell two of the partners to bring
another padlock of the largest size, and the heaviest
handcuffs they can find. We'll try whether he'll get
loose again."
Sheppard said nothing, but a disdainful smile curled
his lips.
Austin departed, and presently afterwards returned
with the two subordinate officers, each of whom wore
a leathern apron round his waist, and carried a large
hammer. As soon as the manacles were slipped over
the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to
the staple, they withdrew.
“Leave me alone with him a moment,” said Jonathan.
And the gaolers also retired.
“ Jack," said Wild, with a glance of malignant
triumph, “I will now tell you what I have done. All
my plans have succeeded. Before a month has elapsed
your mother will be mine. The Trenchard estates will
likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the
youth, Thames, will never again see daylight. Blueskin,
who had evaded me, with the papers and the money,
is a prisoner here, and will perish on the same gallows
as yourself. My vengeance is completely gratified.”
Without waiting for a reply, but darting a malevolent
look at the prisoner, he quitted the cell, the door of
which was instantly double-locked and bolted.


JACK SHEPPARD
171
“Do you think I'd part with the sweetest morsel of
revenge on those terms ! No! But I'll have the
secret out of you by other means.”
So saying, he violently shut and locked the door.
About ten days after this interview, Blueskin, having
been indicted by Wild for several robberies, and tide
bills found against him, was placed at the bar of the
Old Bailey to be arraigned ; when he declared that he
would not plead to the indictment, unless the sum of
five hundred pounds, taken from him by Jonathan Wild,
was first restored to him. This sum, claimed by Wild
under the statute, 4th and 5th of William and Mary,
intituled " An Act for encouraging the apprehending
of Highwaymen," was granted to him by the court.
As Blueskin still continued obstinate, the judgment
appointed to be executed upon such prisoners as stood
mute was then read. It was as follows, and, when
uttered, produced a strong effect upon all who heard
it, except the prisoner, who, in no respect, altered his
sullen and dogged demeanour.
“Prisoner at the bar," thus ran the sentence, “you
shall be taken to the prison from whence you came,
and put into a mean room, stopped from the light;
and shall there be laid on the bare ground, without any
litter, straw, or other covering, and without any garment.
You shall lie upon your back; your head shall be
covered ; and your feet shall be bare.
arms shall be drawn to one side of the room, and the
other arm to the other side; and your legs shall be
served in a like manner. Then, there shall be laid upon
your body as much iron or stone as you can bear, and
And the first day you shall have three morsels
of barley bread, without any drink; and the second
day you shall be allowed to drink as much as you can,
at three times, of the water that is next to the prison-
door, except running-water, without any bread. And
this shall be your diet till you die”
One of your
more.
30


JACK SHEPPARD
173
In this state, he contrived to get the poor black's hand
into his mouth, and nearly bit off one of his fingers
before the sufferer could be rescued.
Meanwhile, the executioner had attached strong
cords to his ankles and wrists, and fastened them
tightly to the iron rings. This done, he unloosed the
pulley, and the ponderous machine, which resembled a
trough, slowly descended upon the prisoner's breast.
Marvel then took two iron weights, each of a hundred
pounds, and placed them in the press.
As this seemed insufficient, after a lapse of five
minutes, he added another hundredweight. The
prisoner breathed with difficulty. Still, his robust
frame enabled him to hold out. After he had endured
this torture for an hour, at a sign from Wild another
hundredweight was added. In a few minutes, ar
appalling change was perceptible. The veins in his
throat and forehead swelled and blackened ; his eyes
protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a
thick damp gathered on his brow; and blood gushed
from his mouth, nostrils, and ears.
“Water !” he gasped.
The executioner shook his head.
“Do you submit ?” interrogated Wild. Blueskin
answered by dashing his head violently against the
flagged floor.
His efforts at self-destruction were,
however, prevented.
“ Try fifty pounds more,” said Jonathan.
"Stop," groaned Blueskin.
“Will you plead ?” demanded Wild harshly.
“I will," answered the prisoner.
“Release him," said Jonathan. “We have cured
his obstinacy, you perceive," he added to Marvel.
“I will live," cried Blueskin, with a look of the
deadliest hatred at Wild,“ to be revenged on you."
And, as the weights were removed, he fainted.


174
JACK SHEPPARD
XVI
How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was Painted.
EARLY in the morning of Thursday, the 15th of October
1724, the door of the Castle w.13 opened by Austin,
who, with a look of unusual importance, announced to
the prisoner that lour gentlemen were shortly coming
up with the governor to see him—“ four such geotle.
men," he added. 10 a tone meant to impress bis auditor
with a due sense of the bcnouc intended him, “ as you
don't meet every day."
“Is Mr Wood among them?" asked Jack eagerly.
“ Mr. Wood !-00,” replied the turnkey. “Do you
think I'd take the trouble to announce him? These
are persons of consequence, I tell you."
“Who are they ?” inquired Sheppard.
“Why, first,” rejoined Austin, “there's Sir James
Thornbill, historical painter to his majesty, and the
greatest artist of the day. Those grand designs in the
dome of Saint Paul's are his work. So is the roof of
the state room at Hampton Court Palace, occupied by
Queen Anne and the Prince of Denmark. So is the
Chapel of All Souls at Oxford, and the great hall at
Blenheim, and I don't know how many halls and
chapels besides. He's now engaged on the Hall at
Greenwich Hospital.”
“I've heard of him," replied Jack impatiently.
“ Who are the others ?”
“ Let me see.
There's a friend of Sir James-a
young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and
caricatures—his name, I believe, is Hogarth. Then
shere's Mr. Gay, the poet, who wrote • The Captives,
which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much
admired by the Princess of Wales. And, lastly, there's


JACK SHEPPARD
175
66
Mr. Figg, the noted prize-fighter, from the New Amphi-
theatre in Marylebone Fields."
Figg's an old friend of mine,” rejoined Jack; “he
was my instructor in the small sword and backsword
exercise. I'm glad he's come to see me.”
“You don't inquire what brings Sir James Thornhill
bere?” said Austin.
“Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack carelessly.
“No such thing," rejoined the gaoler; “ he's coming
on business.”
" On what business, in the name of wonder ?" asked
Sheppard
“ To paint your portrait," answered the gaoler.
My portrait !” echoed Jack.
“By desire of bis majesty," said the gaoler conse-
quentially. “ He has beard of your wonderful escapes,
and wishes to see what you're like. There's a feather
in your cap.
No housebreaker was ever so highly
honoured before."
“And have my escapes really made so much noise
as to reach the ear of royalty ?” mused Jack. “I have
done nothing—nothing to what I could do—to what I
will do."
“You've done quite enough,” rejoined Austin; "more
than you'll ever do again.”
" And then to be taken thus, in these disgraceful
bonds,” continued Jack, “to be held up as a sight for
ever.”
“Why, how else would you be taken ?” exclaimed
the gaoler, with a coarse laugh. “It's very well Mr.
Wild allowed you to have your fine clothes again, or
you might have been taken in a still more disgraceful
garb. For my part, I think those shackles extremely
becoming. But here they are.”
Voices being heard at the door, Austin flew to open it,
and admitted Mr. Pitt, the governor, a tall, pompous per-
sonage, who, in his turn, ushered in four other individuals.


176
JACK SHEPPARD
+
The first of these, whom he addressed as Mr. Gay,
was a stout, good-looking, good-humoured man, about
thirty-six, with a dark complexion, an oval face, fine
black eyes, full of fire and sensibility, and twinkling
with roguish humour-an expression fully borne out
by the mouth, which had a very shrewd and sarcastic
curl.
The poet's appearance altogether was highly pre-
possessing With a strong tendency to satire, but
without a particle of malice or ill-nature in its display,
Gay, by his strokes of pleasantry, whether in his
writings or conversation, never lost a friend. On the
contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered
amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits
of the time-Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the
better brothers.". His demeanour was polished ; his
manners singularly affable and gentle ; and he was
remarkable for the generosity of his temper.
In worldly matters Gay was not fortunate. Possessed
at one time of a share in the South Sea Stock, he con-
ceived himself worth twenty thousand pounds. But,
on the bursting of that bubble, his hopes vanished with
it. Neither did his interest—which was by no means
inconsiderable--nor his general popularity, procure him
the preferment he desired. A constant attendant at
...court, he had the mortification to see every one pro-
moted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck-
“ Places; I found, were daily given away,
· And yet no friendly gazette mentioned Gay."
The prodigious success of the “Beggars? Opera," which
was produced about four years after the date of this
history, rewarded him for all his previous disappoint-
ments, though it did not fully justify the well-known
epigram, alluding to himself and the manager, and
“make Gay rich, and Rich gay.” At the time of ,,
his present introduction, his play of "The Captives


JACK SHEPPARD
177
had just been produced at Drury Lane, and he was
meditating his “Fables,” which 'were published two
years afterwards.
Behind the poet came Sir James Thornbill. The
eminent painter had handsome expressive features, an
aquiline nose, and a good deal of dignity in his manner.
His age was not far from fifty. He was accompanied
by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who
carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvas
upon it, opened the paint-box, took out the brushes
and palette, and, in short, paid him the most' assiduous
attention.
... This young man, whose features, though rather plain
t; and coarse, bore the strongest impress of genius, and
se who had a dark-grey, penetrating eye, so quick in its
glances that it seemed to survey twenty objects at
once, and yet only to fąsten upon one, bore the honouréđ'
name of William Hogarth. Why he paid so much
attention to Sir James Thornhill may be explained
anon.
The rear of the party was brought up by a large,
powerfully built man, with a bluff, honest, but rugged
countenance, slashed with many a cut and scar, and
stamped with that surly, sturdy, bulldog-like look
which an Englishman always delights to contemplate,
because he conceives it to be characteristic of his
countrymen.
This formidable person, who was no other than the
renowned Figg, the “ Atlas of the sword,” as he iş
termed by Captain Godfrey, had removed his hat and
“skull-covering," and was wiping the heat from his
bepatched and close-shaven pate. His shirt also was
unbuttoned, and disclosed a neck like that of an ox,
and a chest which might have served as a model for
a Hercules. He had a flattisḥ, perhaps it should be
called a flattened, nose, and a brown leathern-looking
hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently under-
.


180
JACK SHEPPARD
“I am ono-and-twenty," observed Jack.
"One-and-twenty, ah !” repeated Gay. “Well, I'm
not far from the mark.”
“He is certainly extremely youthful-looking, and
very slightly made," said Thornhill, who had been
attentively studying Sheppard's countenance.
" But I
agree with Hogarth, that he is precisely the person to
do what he has done. Like a thorough-bred racer, he
would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of
heavier mould. Can I be accommodated with a seat,
Mr. Pitt?"
“Certainly, Sir James, certainly," replied the
governor.
“Get a chair, Austin
While this order was obeyed, Figg, who had been
standing near the door, made his way to the prisoner, and
offered him his huge hand, which Jack warmly grasped.
Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough but
friendly voice, and with a cut-and-thrust abrupt manner
peculiar to himself, “how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to
see you here. Wouldn't take my advice.
how it would be. One mistress enough to ruin a man
-two, the devil. Laughed at me, then. Laugh on
the
wrong side of your mouth, now.
“You're not come to insult me, Mr. Figg ?” said
Jack peevishly.
“Insult you, not I,” returned Figg. “ Heard of
your escapes. Everybody talking of you. Wished to
see you. Old pupil. Capital swordsman. Shortly to
be executed. Come to take leave. Trifle useful !” he
added, slipping a few gold pieces into Jack's hand.
“You are very kind,” said Jack, returning the
money; "but I don't require assistance."
"Too proud, eh?” rejoined the prize-fighter.
“ Won't be under an obligation.”
“There you're wrong, Mr. Figg,” replied Jack,
smiling; “for, before I'm taken to Tyburn, I mean to
borrow a shirt for the occasion from you."
Told you


JACK SHEPPARD
181
“Have it, and welcome," rejoined Figg. “Always
plenty to spare. Never bought a shirt in my life, Mr.
Gay," he added, turning to the poet. “Sold a good
many, though."
“How do you manage that, Mr. Figg?” asked Gay.
« Thus,” replied the prize-fighter.
“ Proclaim a
public fight. Challenge accepted. Fifty pupils. Day
before, send round to each to borrow a shirt. Fifty
sent home. All superfine holland. Wear one on the
stage on the following day. Cut to pieces-slashed
---blooded Each of my scholars thinks it is his own
shirt. Offer to return it to each in private. All
make the same answer—'d-n you, keep it.'"
“An ingenious device,” laughed Gay.
Sir James Thornhill's preparations being completed,
Mr. Pitt desired to know if he wanted anything further,
and being answered in the negative, he excused himself,
on the plea that his attendance was required in the
court at the Old Bailey, which was then sitting, and
withdrew.
“Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack ?” said
Sir James. “Gentlemen, a little farther off, if you
please."
Sheppard immediately complied with the painter's
request; while Gay and Figg drew back on one side,
and Hogarth on the other. The latter took from his
pocket a small note-book and pencil.
"I'll make à sketch, too,” he said.
Sheppard's face is well worth preserving.”
After narrowly examining the countenance of the
sitter, and motioning him with his pencil into a
particular attitude, Sir James Thornhill commenced
operations; and while he rapidly transferred his linea-
ments to the canvas, engaged him in conversation, in
the course of which he artfully contrived to draw him
into a recital of his adventures.
The ruse succeeded almost beyond his expectations.
" Jack


182
JACK SHEPPARD
We never
He never
During the narration Jack's features lighted up,
and
an expression, which would have been in vain looked
for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the
skilful artist. All the party were_greatly interested
by Sheppard's history-especially Figg, who laughed
loud and long at the escape from the Condemned Hold.
When Jack came to speak of Jonathan Wild, his
countenance fell.
“We must change the subject,” remarked Thornhill,
pausing in his task ; “this will never do."
Quite right, Sir James,” said Austin.
suffer him to mention Mr. Wild's name.
appears to so little advantage as when speaking of
him.”
“I don't wonder at it,” rejoined Gay.
Here Hogarth received a private signal from Thorn-
hill to attract Sheppard's attention.
“And so you've given up all hope of escaping, eh,
Jack?” remarked Hogarth.
“That's scarcely a fair question, Mr. Hogarth, before
the gaoler,” replied Jack; “but I tell you frankly, and
Mr. Austin may repeat it if he pleases to his master,
Jonathan Wild—I have not."
“Well said, Jack,” cried Figg. “Never give in."
Well,” observed Hogarth, “if, fettered as you are,
you contrive to break out of this dungeon, you'll do
what no man ever did before.”
A peculiar smile illuminated Jack's features.
“ There it is !” cried Sir James eagerly.
" There's
the exact expression I want. For the love of Heaven,
Jack, don't move! Don't alter a muscle, if you can
help it."
And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the
fleeting expression on the canvas.
“I have it, too!” exclaimed Hogarth, busily plying
his pencil. “Gad ! it's a devilish fine face when lit
up."


JACK SHEPPARD
183
“As like as life, sir," observed Austin, peeping over
Thornbill's shoulder at the portrait.
6 As like as life.”
6: The very face," exclaimed Gay, advancing to look
at it—"with all the escapes written in it.”
“ You flatter me." smiled Sir James. “But, I own,
I think it is like."
“What do you think of my sketch, Jack?” said
Hogarth, handing him the drawing.
" It's like enough, I dare say," rejoined Sheppard.
“But it wants something here."
And he pointed significantly to the hand.
I see,” rejoined Hogarth, rapidly sketching a file,
which he placed in the hands of the picture." Will
that do?” he added, returning it.
" It's better," observed Sheppard meaningly. “But
you've given me what I don't possess.”
"Hum !” said Hogarth, looking fixedly at him. “I
don't see how I can improve it.”
“May I look at it, sir?" said Austin, stepping to-
wards him.
"No," replied Hogarth, hastily effacing the sketch.
“I'm never satisfied with a first attempt.'
Egad, Jack," said Gay, "you should write your
adventures. They would be quite as entertaining as the
histories of Guzman d'Alfarache, Lazarillo de Tormes,
Estevanillo Gonzalez, Meriton Latroon, or any of my
favourite rogues—and far more instructive.”
“You had better write them for me, Mr. Gay,”
rejoined Jack.
“If you'll write them, I'll illustrate them," observed
Hogarth.
"An idea has just occurred to me,” said Gay, " which
Jack's narrative has suggested. I'll write an opera, the
scene of which shall be laid in Newgate, and the prin-
cipal character shall be a highwayman. I'll not forget
your two mistresses, Jack.”
"Nor Jonathan Wild, I hope." interposed Sheppard.


84
JACK SHEPPARD
“Certainly not,” replied Gay. “I'll gibbet the
rascal. But I forget,” he added, glancing at Austin ;
“it's high treason to speak disrespectfully of Mr. Wild
in his own domain."
“I bear nothing," laughed Austin
“I was about to add," continued Gay, “that my
opera shall have no music except the good old ballad
tunes. And we'll see whether it won't put the Italian
opera out of fashion, with Cutzooi, Senesino, and the
divine 'Farinelli at its head”
“You'll do a national service, then," said Hogarth
“The sums lavished upon those people are perfectly
disgraceful, and I shall be enchanted to see them
hooted from the stage. But I've an idea as well as
you, grounded in some measure upon Sheppard's story
I'll take two apprentices, and depict their career One,
by perseverance and industry, shall obtain fortune,
credit, and the highest honours, while the other, by
an opposite course, and dissolute habits, shall eventu-
ally arrive at Tyburn
“Yours will be the nearer the truth, and have a
deeper moral, Mr. Hogarth,” remarked Jack dejectedly.
“But if my career were truly exhibited, it must
be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape
of-
“Jonathan Wild," interposed Gay. “I knew it
By-the-bye, Mr. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night
at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty
daughter?"
"Meno, sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring.
And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper
on which he was sketching. Luckily, Sir James was
so much engrossed by his own task, that both the
remark and gesture escaped him.
“I suppose I was mistaken,” returned Gay. “You've
been quizzing my friend Kent, I perceive, in your
Burlington Gate."


JACK SHEPPARI
185
"A capital caricature that,” remarked Thornhill,
laughing “What does Mr Kent say to it?"
“ He thinks so highly of it, that he says if he had a
daughter he would give her to the artist," answered
Gay, a little maliciously
“Ah!” exclaimed Sir James.
"'Sdeath,” cried Hogarth, aside to the poet.
“You've ruined my hopes"
“ Advanced them, rather," replied Gay, in the same
tone "Miss Thornhill's a charming girl. I think
a wife a needless incumbrance, and mean to die a
bachelor. But, if I were in your place, I know what
I'd do
" What
what would you do?” asked Hogarth
eagerly.
“Run away with her,” replied Gay.
“Pish!” exclaimed Hogarth.
But he afterwards acted upon the suggestion.
“Good-bye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat.
« Rather in the way. Send you the shirt. Here, turn-
key. Couple of guineas to drink Captain Sheppard's
speedy escape. Thank him, not me, man. Give this
fellow the slip if you can, Jack. If not, keep up your
spirits. Die game.
“Never fear,” replied Jack. “If I get free, I'll
have a bout with you at all weapons. If not, I'll take
a cheerful glass with you at the City of Oxford on my
way to Tyburn."
“ Give you the best I have in either case,” replied
Figg. “Good-bye !"
And, with a cordial shake of the hand, he took his
departure.
Sir James Thornhill then rose.
“I won't trouble you further, Jack,” he remarked.
“I've done all I can to the portrait here. I must
finish it at home.”
“Permit me to see it, Sir James ?” requested Jack.


186
JACK SHEPPARD
66
“Ah!” he exclaimed, as the painting was turned
towards him, “what would my poor mother say to it."
“I was sorry to see that about your mother, Jack,"
observed Hogarth.
“What of her ?” exclaimed Jack, starting up.
66 [s
she dead ?"
“No - 20," answered Hogarth. 6 Don't alarm
yourself I saw it this morning in the Daily Journal
-an advertisement, offering a reward-
" A reward 1" echoed Jack “ For what?"
“I had the paper with me. 'Sdeath! what can I
have done with it? Oh! here it is,” cried Hogarth,
picking it from the ground. "I must have dropped it
when I took out my note-book There's the paragraph
* Mrs. Sheppard left Mr Wood's house at Dollis Hill
on Tuesday'—that's two days ago—and hasn't been
heard of since.'
“Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and
eagerly perusing the advertisement.
"Ah!” he ex-
claimed, in a tone of anguish," she has fallen into the
villain's hands."
“What villain ?" cried Hogarth.
“ Jonathan Wild, I'll be sworn,” said Gay.
“Right !-right!” cried Jack, striking his fettered
hands against his breast. “ She is in his power, and I
am here, chained hand and foot, unable to assist her."
“I could make a fine sketch of him now,” whispered
Hogarth to Gay.
“I told you how it was, Sir James,” said Austin,
addressing the knight, who was preparing for his de-
parture; “he attributes every misfortune that befalls
him to Mr. Wild.”
“And with some justice," replied Thornhill dryly.
“ Allow me to assist you, Sir James,” said Hogarth.
“Many thanks, sir," replied Thornbill, with freezing
politeness ; “but I do not require assistance.”
“I tell you what, Jack,” said Gay; "I've several


188
JACK SHEPPARD
succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles.
He next twisted the heavy gyves round and round, and
partly by main strength, partly by a dexterous and
well-applied jerk, snapped asunder the central link by
which they were attached to the padlock Taking off
his stockings, he then drew up the basils as far as he
was able, and tied the fragments of the broken chain
to his legs, to prevent them from clanking, and im-
peding his future exertions,
Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may
be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. To
remove this obstacle it was necessary to make an exten-
sive breach in the wall. With the broken links of the
chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient imple.
ments, he commenced operations just above the chimney-
piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster
He found the wall, as he suspected, solidly constructed
of brick and stone, and with the slight and inadequate
tools which he possessed, it was a work of infinite labour
and skill to get out a single brick. That done, however,
he was well aware the rest would be comparatively easy,
and, as he threw the brick to the ground, he exclaimed
triumphantly-
"The first step is taken—the main difficulty is over-
come.”
Animated by this trifling success, he proceeded with
fresh ardour, and the rapidity of his progress was pro-
claimed by the heap of bricks, stones, and mortar, which
before long covered the floor. At the expiration of an
hour, by dint of unremitting exertion, he had made so
large a breach in the chimney, that he could stand
upright in it. He was now within a foot of the bar,
and introducing himself into the hole, speedily worked
his way to it.
Regardless of the risk he incurred from some heavy
stone dropping on his head or feet regardless also of
the noise made by the falling rubbish, and the imminent


JACK SHEPPARD
189
danger which he consequently ran of being interrupted
by some of the gaolers, should the sound reach their
ears, he continued to pull down large masses of the wall,
which he flung upon the floor of the cell.
Having worked thus for another quarter of an hour
without being sensible of fatigue, though he was half
stifled by the clouds of dust which his exertions raised,
he had made a hole about three feet wide, and six high,
and uncovered the iron bar. Grasping it firmly with
both hands, he quickly wrenched it from the stones in
which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. On
examination it proved to be a flat bar of iron, nearly a
yard in length, and more than an inch square. "A
capital instrument for my purpose,” thought Jack,
shouldering it, “and worth all the trouble I have had
in procuring it."
While he was thus musing, he fancied he heard the
lock tried. A chill ran through his frame, and grasping
the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him,
prepared to strike down the first person who should enter
the cell. After listening attentively for a short time
without drawing breath, he became convinced that his
apprehensions were groundless; and, greatly relieved,
sat down upon the chair to rest himself, and prepare
for further efforts.
Acquainted with every part of the gaol, Jack well
knew that his only chance of effecting an escape must
be by the roof. To reach it would be a most difficult
undertaking. Still it was possible, and the difficulty
was only a fresh incitement.
The mere enumeration of the obstacles that existed
would have deterred any spirit less daring than Shep-
pard's from even hazarding the attempt. Independently
of other risks, and of the chance of breaking his neck
in the descent, he was aware that to reach the leads he
should have to break open six of the strongest doors of
the prison. Armed, however, with the implement he


JACK SHEPPARD
191
XVIII
The Red Room.
TAE ward into which Jack was endeavouring to break
was called the Red Room, from the circumstance of its
walls having once been painted in that colour; all traces
of which had, however, long since disappeared. Like
the Castle, which it resembled in all respects except
that it was destitute even of a barrack-bedstead, the
Red Room was preserved for state prisoners, and had
not been occupied since the year 1716, when the gaol,
as has before been mentioned, was crowded by the
Preston rebels.
Having made a hole in the wall sufficiently large to
pass through, Jack first tossed the bar into the room,
and then crept after it. As soon as he had gained his
feet, he glanced round the bare blank walls of the cell,
and oppressed by the musty, close atmosphere, ex-
claimed, "I'll let a little fresh air into this dungeon.
They say it hasn't been opened for eight years—but I
won't be eight years in getting out of it.”
In stepping across the room, some sharp point in
the floor pierced his foot, and, stooping to examine it,
he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long
rusty nail which projected from the boards. Totally
disregarding the pain, he picked up the nail, and re-
served it for future use. Nor was he long in making
it available.
On examining the door, he found it secured by a
large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with
the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving
ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with
the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back
the bolt.


JACK SHEPPARD
193
XIX
The Chapel.
SITUATED at the upper part of the south-east angle of
the gaol, the chapel of Old Newgate was divided on
the north side into three grated compartments, or pens
as they were termed, allotted to the common debtors
and felons. In the north-west angle there was a small
pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more
commodious enclosure, appropriated to the master
debtors and strangers. Immediately beneath the pulpit
stood a large circular pew, where malefactors under
sentence of death sat to hear the condemned sermon
delivered to them, and where they formed a public
spectacle to the crowds which curiosity generally
attracted on those occasions,
To return.
Jack had got into one of the pens at the north side
of the chapel. The enclosure by which it was sur-
rounded was about twelve feet high; the under part
being composed of oaken planks, the upper of a strong
iron grating, surmounted by sharp iron spikes. In the
middle there was a gate. It was locked. But Jack
speedily burst it open with the iron bar.
Clearing the few impediments in his way, he soon
reached the condemned pew, where it had once been
his fate to sit; and extending himself on the seat,
endeavoured to snatch a moment's repose. It was
denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for
an instant--the whole scene of his former visit to the
place rose behind him. There he sat as before, with
the heavy fetters on his limbs; and beside him sat
three companions, who had since expiated their offences
on the gibbet. The chapel was again crowded with


JACK SHEPPARD
195
Hastening along the passage he came to the sixth
door. For this he was prepared; but he was not pre-
pared for the almost insurmountable obstacles which
it presented. Running his hand hastily over it, he
was startled to find it one complicated mass of bolts
and bars. It seemed as if all the precautions pre-
viously taken were here accumulated. Any one less
courageous than himself would have abandoned the
attempt from a conviction of its utter bopelessness ;
but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour,
it could not deter him.
Once again he passed his hand over the surface, and
carefully noted all the obstacles. There was a lock,
apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and
girded to the door with thick iron hoops. Below it a
prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and,
in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and
further protected by an immense padlock. Besides
this, the door was crossed and recrossed by iron bars,
clenched by broad-headed nails. An iron fillet secured
the socket of the bolt and the box of the lock to the
main post of the doorway.
Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to
work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his
implements—now attempting to pick it with the nail,
now to wrench it off with the bar; but all without
effect. He not only failed in making any impression,
but seemed to increase the difficulties, for after an
hour's toil he had broken the nail and slightly bent
the iron bar.
Completely overcome by fatigue, with strained
muscles and bruised hands, streaming with perspira-
tion, and with lips so parched that he would gladly
have parted with a treasure if he had possessed it for
a draught of water, he sank against the wall, and
while in this state he was seized with a sudden and
strange alarm. He fancied that the turnkeys had dis-


JACK SHEPPARD
197
him He had now reached what was called the Lower
Leads--a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous
to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls
about fourteen feet high. On the north stood the
battlements of one of the towers of the gate. On this
side a flight of wooden steps, protected by a hand-rail,
led to a door opening upon the summit of the prison.
This door was crested with spikes, and guarded on the
right by a bristling semicircle of spikes.
Hastily ascending these steps, Jack found the door,
as he anticipated, locked. He could have easily forced
it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching
the roof which suggested itself to him. Mounting the
door he had last opened, he placed his hands on the
wall above, and quickly drew himself up.
Just as he got on the roof of the prison, Saint
Sepulchre's clock struck eight. It was instantly
answered by the deep note of Saint Paul's; and the
concert was prolonged by other neighbouring churches.
Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his
arduous task.
Though nearly dark, there was still light enough left
to enable him to discern surrounding objects. Through
the gloom he distinctly perceived the dome of Saint
Paul's, hanging like a black cloud in the air; and
nearer to him he remarked the golden ball on the
summit of the College of Physicians, compared by
Garth to a “gilded pill." Other towers and spires-
Saint Martin's on Ludgate Hill, and Christchurch in
Newgate Street, were also distinguishable. As he
gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not
help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate
him below.
To prevent the recurrence of any such escape as that
just described, it was deemed expedient, in more recent
times, to keep a watchman at the top of Newgate.
Not many years ago, two men, employed on this duty,
P


JACK SHEPPARD
199
A few seconds sufficed to clear the passage, through
which it had previously cost him more than two hours
to force his way. The floor was strewn with screws,
nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the
passage lay the heavy iron fillet. He did not disturb
any of this litter, but left it as a mark of his prowess.
He was now at the entrance of the chapel, and
striking the door over which he had previously climbed
a violent blow with the bar, it flew open. To vault over
the pews was the work of a moment; and, having gained
the entry leading to the Red Room, he passed through
the first door, his progress being only impeded by the
pile of broken stones which he himself had raised.
Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master
Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bac-
chanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that
accompanied the song convinced him that no suspicion
was entertained in this quarter. Entering the Red
Room, he crept through the hole in the wall, descended
the chimney, and arrived once more in his old place of
captivity.
How different were his present feelings compared
with those he had experienced on quitting it. Then,
though full of confidence, he half doubted his power
of accomplishing his designs. Now, he had achieved
them, and felt assured of success. The vast heap of
rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by
the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon
the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some diffi-
culty he could find the blanket, which was almost buried
beneath the pile. He next searched for his stockings
and shoes, and when found, put them on.
While be was thus employed, his nerves underwent
a severe shock. A few bricks, dislodged probably by
his last descent, came clattering down the chimney, and
as it was perfectly dark, gave him the notion that some
one was endeavouring to force an entrance into the room.


200
JACK SHEPPARD
But these fears, like those he had recently experi-
enced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to
the roof, congratulating himself that, owing to the
opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all proba-
bility escaped serious injury.
Throwing the blanket over his left arm, and shoulder-
ing the iron bar, he again clambered up the chimney;
regained the Red Room; hurried along the first passage;
crossed the Chapel; threaded the entry to the Lower
Leads; and in less than ten minutes after quitting the
Castle, had reached the northern extremity of the prison.
Previously to his descent he had left the nail and
spike on the wall, and with these be fastened the
blanket to the stone coping. This done, he let himself
carefully down by it, and having only a few feet to
drop, alighted in safety.
Having now fairly got out of Newgate for the second
time, with a heart throbbing with exultation, he hastened
to make good his escape. To his great joy he found a
small garret door in the roof of the opposite house open.
He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was
only a small truckle bed, over which he stumbled ;
opened another door, and gained the stair-head. As
he was about to descend, his chains slightly rattled.
“O lud! what's that?” exclaimed a female voice,
from an adjoining room.
Only the dog,” replied the rough tones of a man.
Securing the chain in the best way he could, Jack
then hurried down two pair of stairs, and had nearly
reached the lobby, when a door suddenly opened, and
two persons appeared, one of whom held a light. Re
treating as quickly as he could, Jack opened the first
door he came to, entered a room, and searching in the
dark for some place of concealment, fortunately dis-
covered a screen, behind which he crept.


JACK SHEPPARD
201
XXI
What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House.
Jack was scarcely concealed when the door opened,
and the two persons of whom we have caught a glimpse
entered the room. What was his astonishment to
recognise, in a few words they uttered, the voices of
Kneebone and Winifred ! The latter was apparently
in great distress, and the former seemed to be using
his best efforts to relieve her anxiety.
“How very fortunate it is,” he observed, “ that I
happened to call upon Mr. Bird, the turner, to give him
an order this evening. It was quite an unexpected
pleasure to meet you and your worthy father.”
“Pray, cease these compliments,” returned Winifred ;
“and if you have any communication to make, do not
delay it. You told me just now that you wished to
speak a few words to me in private, concerning Thames
Darrell, and for that purpose I have left my father
below with Mr. Bird, and have come hither. What
have you to say?"
"Too much," replied Kneebone, shaking his head
sadly; "too much."
“Do not needlessly alarm me, I beseech you,” replied
Winifred. “Whatever your intelligence may be, I will
strive to bear it. But do not awaken my apprehen-
sions, unless
you have good cause for so doing. What
do
you
know of Thames ? Where is he?”
"Don't agitate yourself, dearest girl," rejoined the
woollen-draper, “or I shall never be able to commence
my relation."
“I am calm — perfectly calm," replied Winifred.
"Pray make no further mystery; but tell me all,
without reserve."
>>


202
JACK SHEPPARD
"Since you require it, I must obey," replied Knee-
bone; “but prepare yourself for a terrible shock.”
“For mercy's sake, go on," cried Winifred.
“At all hazards, then, you shall know the truth,”
replied the woollen -draper, in a tone of affected solici.
tude; “but are you really prepired ?”
“Quite-quite," replied Winifred. “This suspense
is worse than torture
“I am almost afraid to utter it,” said Kneebone;
“but Thames Darrell is murdered.”
“Murdered I” ejaculated Winifred.
“Basely and inhumanly murdered, by Jack Sheppard
and Blueskin,” continged Kneebone.
“Oh!-no— no - no,” cried Winifred ; "I cannot
believe it. You must be misinformed, Mr. Kneebone.
Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he
would never lift his hand against his friend of that
I am assured.”
“Generous girl !” cried Jack, from behind the screen.
“I have proofs to the contrary,” replied Kneebone.
“The murder was committed after the robbery of my
house by Sheppard and his accomplices. I did not
choose to mention my knowledge of this fact to your
worthy father ; but you may rely on its correctness."
“You were right not to mention it to him," rejoined
Winifred, " for he is in such a state of distress at the
mysterious disappearance of Mrs. Sheppard, that I fear
any further anxiety might prove fatal to him. And
yet I know not-for the object of his visit here to-
night was to serve Jack, who, if your statement is
correct—which I cannot, however, for a moment believe
- does not deserve his assistance.”
“You may rest assured he does not,” rejoined Knee-
bone emphatically; “ but I am at a loss to understand
in what way your father proposes to assist him.”
“Mr. Bird, the turner, who is an old friend of ours,
has some acquaintance with the turnkeys of Newgate,"


JACK SHEPPARD
203
replied Winifred, “and by his means my father hoped
to convey some implements to Jack, by which he might
effect another escape.”
" I see,” remarked Kneebone.
6. This must be pre-
vented,” he added to himself.
“ Heaven grant you may have been wrongly informed
with respect to Thames !” exclaimed Winifred; “but, I
beseech you, on no account to mention what you have
told me to my poor father. He is not in a state of
mind to bear it."
“Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. “One word
before we part, adorable girl-only one,” he continued,
detaining her. “I would not venture to renew my
suit while Thames lived, because I well knew your
affections were fixed upon him. But now that this bar
is removed, I trust I may, without impropriety, urge it."
“No more of this,” said Winifred angrily.
" Is this
a season to speak on such a subject ?”
“Perhaps not,” rejoined the woollen-draper, “but
the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead
my excuse. My whole life shall be devoted to you,
beloved girl. And when you reflect how much at
heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever
deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no
longer refuse me."
"Sir!" exclaimed Winifred.
“You will make me the happiest of mankind,” cried
the woollen-draper, falling on his knees, and seizing her
hand, which he devoured with kisses.
“Let me go,” cried Winifred. “I disbelieve the
whole story you have told me.”
“By Heaven !" cried Kneebone, with increasing
fervour,
6 it is true—as true as my affection for you."
“I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred scornfully:
" because I attach credit neither to one nor the other:
If Thames is murdered, you are his assassin. Let me
3:
go, sir."


JACK SHEPPARD
205
i He
“No," answered Jack, approaching her, “though if
I had done so, he would have merited his fate. You
do not believe his statement?"
“I do not,” replied Winifred. “I could not believe
you capable of so foul a deed. But oh! by what
wonderful chance have you come hither so seasonably?”
“I have just escaped from Newgate," replied Jack;
"and am more than repaid for the severe toil I have
undergone, in being able to save you. But tell me,”
he added, with much anxiety, "has nothing been
heard of Thames since the night of my former escape?"
“Nothing whatever," answered Winifred.
left Dollis Hill at ten o'clock on that night, and has
not since returned. My father has made every possible
inquiry, and offered large rewards, but has not been
able to discover the slightest trace of him. His sus-
picions at first fell upon you. But he has since
acquitted you of any share in it.”
“O Heaven !” exclaimed Jack.
“He has been indefatigable in his search,” continued
Winifred, "and has even journeyed to Manchester.
But though he visited Sir Rowland Trenchard's seat,
Asheton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of his
uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country.”
“Never to return,” remarked Jack gloomily.
“ Before
to-morrow morning I will ascertain what has become of
Thames, or perish in the attempt. And now tell me
what has happened to my poor mother.”
“Ever since your last capture, and Thames's mys-
terious disappearance, she has been dreadfully ill,”
replied Winifred ; so ill, that each day was expected
to be her last. She has also been afflicted with occa-
sional returns of her terrible malady. On Tuesday
night she was rather better, and I had left her for
a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in the
little parlour of which she is so fond-
« Well?" exclaimed Jack.
P


JACK SHEPPARD
207
me.
"Would you have had him spare my mother's
murderer?” cried Winifred.
“No, no," replied Jack. "And yet-but it is only
part of the chain of ill-luck that seems wound around
Listen to me, Winifred.”
And he bastily related the occurrences in Jonathan
Wild's house.
The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder
filled Winifred with alarm; but when she learnt what
had befallen Thames-how he had been stricken down
by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she
uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have
fallen, if Jack had not caught her in his arms. Jack
had well-digh fallen too. The idea that he held in his
arms the girl whom be had once so passionately loved,
and for whom he soon regained an ardent but hope-
less attachment, almost overcame him, Gazing at
her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one
brotherly kiss upon her lips. It was the first and
the last!
At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried,
and the voice of Mr. Wood was heard without, angrily
demanding admittance.
“What's the matter?” he cried. “I thought I heard
a scream. Why is the door fastened? Open it directly.”
“Are you alone ?” asked Jack, mimicking the voice
of Kneebone.
“What for?" demanded Wood. “Open the door,
I say, or I'll burst it open.”
Carefully depositing Winifred on a sofa, Jack then
extinguished the light, and as he unfastened the door
crept behind it. In rushed Mr. Wood with a candle
in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out and darted
downstairs.
He upset some one--probably Mr. Bird-who was
rushing upstairs, alarmed by Mr. Wood's cries; but
regardless of this he darted along a passage, gained


208
JACK SHEPPARD
the shop, and passed through an open door into the
street. And thus he was once more free, having
effected one of the most wonderful escapes ever
planned or accomplished.
XXII
Fast and Loose.
ABOUT seven o'clock on the same night, Jonathan Wild's
two janizaries, who had been for some time in attend.
ance in the hall of his dwelling at the Old Bailey, were
summoned to the audience-chamber. A long and secret
conference then took place between the thief-taker and
his niyrmidons, after which they were severally dis-
missed.
Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening
the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. Taking the
opposite course from that which he had hitherto pur-
sued when it has been necessary to attend him in his
visits to the lower part of his premises, he struck into
a narrow passage on the right, which he tracked till he
came to a small door, like the approach to a vault.
Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no
means belied its external appearance.
On à pallet in one corner lay a pale, emaciated
female.
Holding the lamp over herrigid but beautiful features,
Jonathan, with some anxiety, placed his hand upon her
breast to ascertain whether the heart still beat. Satisfied
with this scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking
off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it
with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin
arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. Opening her large
black eyes, she fixed them upon him for a moment with


JACK SHEPPARD
209
a mixture of terror and loathing, and then averted her
gaze
“Drink this,” cried Jonathan, handing her the cup.
“You'll feel better after it.”
Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor
creature swallowed it without hesitation.
“Is it poison ?" she asked.
“No," replied Jonathan, with a brutal laugh.
“I'm not going to get rid of you just yet. It's gin
- liquor you used to like. You'll find the benefit of
it by-and-by. You've a good deal to go through
to-night."
“Ah!” exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard, are you come to
renew your terrible proposals ? "
“I'm come to execute my threats,” replied Wild.
“To-night you shall be my wedded wife.”
"I will die first,” replied Mrs. Sheppard.
“ You may die afterwards as soon as you please,"
retorted Jonathan; “but live till then you shall. I've
sent for the priest.”
“Mercy !" cried Mrs. Sheppard, vainly trying to
discover a gleam of compassion in the thief-taker's
inexorable countenance—“Mercy ! mercy!”
“Pshaw !” rejoined Jonathan. " You should be glad
to be made an honest woman.”
“Oh! let me die,” groaned the widow. "I have
not many days—perhaps not many hours to live. But
kill me rather than commit this outrage.”
“That wouldn't answer my purpose," replied Jona-
than savagely. “I didn't carry you off from old Wood
to kill you, but to wed you."
“What motive can you have for so vile a deed ?”
asked Mrs. Sheppard.
"You know my motive well enough," answered Jona-
than. “However, I'll refresh your memory.
I once
might have married you for your beauty--now I marry
vou for your wealth.”


212
JACK SHEPPARD
“Delay the marriage till then. I will never consent
till I see him.”
“You ask impossibilities," replied Jonathan sullenly.
“All is prepared The marriage cannot-shall not be
delayed You must be mine to-night."
“Force shall not make me yours till Jack is free,”
replied the widow resolutely
“An hour bence, I shall return with the priest,"
replied Jonathan, striding towards the door And,
with a glance of malignant exultation, be quitted the
vault, and locked the door
"An hour bence, I shall be beyond your malice,”
said Mrs. Sheppard, sinking backwards upon the pallet.
XXIII
The Last Meeting between Jack Sheppard and
his Mother.
AFTER escaping from the turner's house, Jack Sheppard
skirted Saint Sepulchre's Church, and, hurrying down
Snow Hill, darted into the first turning on the left.
Traversing Angel Court and Green Arbour Court-
celebrated as one of Goldsmith's retreats-he speedily
reached Seacoal Lane, and, pursuing the same course
which he and Thames had formerly taken, arrived at
the yard at the back of Jonathan's habitation.
A door, it may be remembered, opened from Wild's
dwelling into this yard. Before he forced an entrance,
Jack tried it, and, to his great surprise and delight,
found it unfastened.
Entering the house, be found bimself in a narrow
passage leading to the back stairs. He had not taken
many steps when he perceived Quilt Arnold in the
upper gallery, with a lamp in his hand. Hearing a


214
JACK SHEPPARD
his sword, Quilt entered the cell. The next moment
an exclamation was heard in the voice of Thames.
Darting forward at this sound, Jack threw
open
the
door and beheld Quilt kneeling over Thames, whose
hands and feet were bound with cords, and about to
plunge his sword into his breast. A blow from the
iron bar instantly stretched the ruffian on the floor.
Jack then proceeded to liberate the captive from bis
bondage.
“Jack !” exclaimed Thames. "Is it you ?”.
“ It is,” replied Sheppard, as he uatied the cords.
"I might return the question. Were it not for your
voice, I don't think I should know you. You are
greatly altered.”
Captivity had, indeed, produced a striking alteration
in Thames. He looked like the shadow of himself-
thin, feeble, hollow-eyed-his beard unshorn-nothing
could be more miserable,
I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since
we last met," he said ; "though how long ago that is
I scarcely know. Night and day have been alike to me.
“Six weeks have elapsed since that fatal night,"
replied Jack. “During the whole of that time I have
been a close prisoner in Newgate, whence I have only
just escaped.”
“Six weeks !” exclaimed Thames, in a melancholy
tone. “It seems like six long months to me.”
“I do not doubt it,” returned Jack;“ pone but those
who have experienced it can understand the miseries of
imprisonment.
“Do not speak of it,” rejoined Thames, with a look
of horror. “Let us fly from this frightful place.”
“I will conduct you to the outlet," replied Jack;
“but I cannot leave it till I have ascertained whether
my mother also is a prisoner here."
“I can answer that,” replied Thames. She is.
The monster, Wild, when he visited my dungeon last


218
JACK SHEPPARD
act most in accordance with her wishes, could she
dictate them, by compliance. Do not waste time in
vain regrets, but let us remove the body, that we may
full her last injunctions."
After some further arguments, Jack assented to this
proposal.
“Go on first with the light,” he said. “I will bear
the body."
And he raised it in his arms.
Just as they reached the end of the passage, they
heard the voices of Jonathan and the Jew in Thames's
late place of confinement. Wild had evidently dis-
covered the body of Quilt Arnold, and was loudly ex-
pressing his anger and astonishment.
* Extinguish the light,” cried Jack; “turn to the
left. Quick! Quick !”
The order was only just given in time. They had
scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and
the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault.
“Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack; “follow
me."
So saying, he hurried upstairs, opened the back door,
and was quickly in the yard. Having ascertained that
Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly
burden down Seacoal Lane.
“Where are you going?” cried Thames, who, though
wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up
with him.
“I know not-and care not," replied Jack.
At this moment, a coach passed them, and was
instantly hailed by Thames.
“ You had better let me convey her to Dollis Hill,”
he said.
“Be it so," replied Jack.
Luckily it was so dark, and there was no lamp near,
that the man did not notice the condition of the body,
which was placed in the vehicle by the two young men.


JACK SHEPPARD
219
- Take care
“What will you do?" asked Thames.
“Leave me to my fate,” rejoined Jack.
of your charge."
“ Doubt me not,” replied Thames.
“Bury her in Willesden Churchyard, as she requested,
on Sunday,” said Jack. “I will be there at the time.”
So saying, he closed the door. The coachman, having
received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he
drove quickly, set off at full speed. As Jack departed,
a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed
after him.
XXIV
The Pursuit.
AFTER running to some distance down Seacoal Lane,
Jack stopped to give a last look at the vehicle which
was bearing away the remains of his beloved and ill-
fated mother. It was scarcely out of sight when two
persons, whom he instantly recognised as Jonathan and
Abraham Mendez, turned the corner of the street, and
made it evident from their shouts that they likewise
perceived him.
Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down
Turnagain Lane, skirted the eastern bank of Fleet
Ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to ascend
the neighbouring hill. By the time he had reached
Saint Andrew's Church, his pursuers had gained the
bridge, and the attention of such passengers as crowded
the streets were attracted towards him by their voci.
ferations. Amongst others, the watchman whose box
was placed against the churchyard wall, near the
entrance to Shoe Lane, rushed out and sprung his
rattle, which was immediately answered by another


JACK SHEPPARD
221
up
At no loss to comprehend that Jack was the in-
dividual pointed out by these outcries, two of the
nearest of the group made a dash at bim. But Jack
eluded their grasp. A large dog was then set at him
by a stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his
faithful iron bar, he speedily sent him yelping back.
The two ostlers, however, kept close at bis heels; and
Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could
not hold out much longer. Determined, bowever, not
to be taken with life, he held on.
Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, be ran along the
direct road, till the houses disappeared, and he got
into the open country. Here he was preparing to leap
over the hedge into the fields, on the left, when he was
intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts,
rode and struck at him with the butt-ends of their
beavy riding-whips. Warding off the blows as well as
be could with the bar, Jack struck both the horses on
the head, and the animals plunged so violently that
they not only prevented their riders from assailing
him, but also kept off the ostlers; and, in the con-
fusion that ensued, Jack managed to spring over the
fence, and shaped his course across the field in the
direction of Sir John Oldcastle's.
The stoppage had materially lessened the distance
between him and his pursuers, who now amounted to
· more than a hundred persons, many of whom carried
lanterns and links. Ascertaining that it was Sheppard
of whom this concourse was in pursuit, the two horse-
men leapt the hedge, and were presently close upon
him.
Like a hare closely pressed, Jack attempted to
double, but the device only brought him nearer his
foes, who were crossing the field in every direction,
and rending the air with their shouts. The uproar
was tremendous—men yelling-dogs barking—but
above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan,


222
JACK SHEPPARD
urging them on. Jack was so harassed that he felt
half inclined to stand at bay.
While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped,
and he fell head-foremost into a deep trench, which he
had not observed in the dark. This fall saved him,
for the horsemen passed over him. Creeping along
quickly on his hands and knees, he found the en-
trance to a covered drain, into which he crept. He
was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen,
who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride
back
By this time, Jonathan, and the vast mob attending
him, had come up, and the place was rendered almost
as light as day by the links
“He must be somewhere hereabouts,” cried one of
the horsemen, dismounting “We were close upon him,
when he suddenly disappeared "
Jonathan made po answer, but snatching a torch
from a bystander, jumped into the trench, and com-
menced a diligent search. Just as he had arrived at
the mouth of the drain, and Jack felt certain he must
be discovered, a loud shout was raised from the farther
end of the field that the fugitive was caught. All the
assemblage, accompanied by Jonathan, set off in this
direction, when it turned out that the supposed house-
breaker was a harnıless beggar, who had been found
asleep under a hedge.
Jonathan's vexation and disappointment was
pressed in the bitterest imprecations, and he returned
as speedily as he could to the trench. But he had now
lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined
the drain, turned bis attention to another quarter.
Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some
degree subsided. The crowd dispersed in different
directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming
on, put them altogether to flight.
altogether to flight. Jonathan, however,
still lingered. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain,
er-


JACK SHEPPARD
225
events of the previous day rushed to his recollection;
and though he had been unintentionally the cause of
his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely
as if he had been her actual murderer.
“Had I not been the guilty wretch I am,” he cried,
bursting into an agony of tears, “she would never
have died thus."
This strong feeling of remorse having found a natural
vent, in some degree subsided, and he addressed himself
to his present situation. Rousing himself, he went to
the door. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere
was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the
recent showers.
Taking up a couple of large stones which lay near,
Jack tried to beat the round basils of the fetters into
an oval form, so as to enable him to slip his heels through
them. While he was thus employed, a farming man
came into the barn. Jack instantly started to his feet,
and the man, alarmed at his appearance, ran off to a
neighbouring house. Before he could return, Jack had
made good his retreat; and wandering about the lanes
and hedges, kept out of sight as much as possible.
On examining his pockets, he found about twenty
guineas in gold, and some silver. But how to avail
himself of it was the question, for in his present garb,
he was sure to be recognised. When night fell, he
crept into the town of Tottenham.
As he passed along the main thoroughfare, he heard
his own name pronounced, and found that it was a
hawker, crying a penny history of his escapes. A crowd
was collected round the fellow, who was rapidly dis-
posing of his stock.
“Here's the full, true, and particular account of
Jack Sheppard's last astonishing and never-to-be-for-
gotten escape from the Castle of Newgate,” bawled the
hawker; "with a print of him taken from the life,
showing the manner how he was shackled and hand-


226
JACK SHEPPARD
cuffed Only one penny-two copies—twopence
thank you, sir. Here's the-
“Let me have one,” cried a servant-maid, running
across the street, and in her haste forgetting to shut
the door—"here's the money. Master and missis have
been talking all day long about Jack Sheppard, and
I'm dying to read his life.”
“ Here you have it, my dear," returned the hawker.
“Sold again."
“If you don't get back quickly, Lucy," observed a
bystander, “ Jack Sheppard will be in the house before
you."
This sally occasioned a general laugh.
“If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to
hide him,” remarked a buxom dame “ Poor fellow.
I'm glad he has escaped."
“ Jack seems to be a great favourite with the fair
sex," observed a smirking grocer's apprentice.
“Of course," rejoined the bystander who had just
spoken, and who was of a cynical turn—"the greater
the rascal, the better they like him."
“Here a particular account of Jack's many
robberies
and escapes,” roared the hawker—"how he broke into
the house of his master, Mr. Wood, at Dollis Hill-
“Let me have one," said a carpenter, who was pass-
ing by at the moment. “Mr. Wood was an old friend
of mine-and I recollect seeing Jack when he was
bound 'prentice to him.”
“A penny, if you please, sir,” said the hawker.
"Sold again! Here you have the full, true, and
particular account of the barbarous murder committed
by Jack Sheppard and his associate, Joseph Blake,
alias Blueskin, upon the body of Mrs. Wood—”
“That's false !" cried a voice behind him.
The man turned at the exclamation, and so did
several of the bystanders; but they could not make
out who had uttered it.


JACK SHEPPARD
227
Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now
walked on
In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a
Jew dealer in old clothes. The owner was at the door,
unbooking a few articles of wearing apparel which he
had exposed outside for sale. Amongst other things,
be had just brought down an old laced bavaroy, a species
of surtout much worn at the period.
"What do you want for that coat, friend?" asked
Jack, as he came up.
“More than you'll pay for it, friend,” snufled the
Jew
• How do you know that?” rejoined Jack. s Will
you take a guidea for it?"
“Double that sum might tempt me," replied the
Jew ; “it's a nobleman's coat, upon my shoul!”
“Here's the money,” replied Jack, taking the coat.
“Shall I help you on with it, sir ?” replied the Jew,
becoming suddenly respectful.
"No," replied Jack.
“I half suspect this is a highwayman,” thought the
Jew;
“ he's so ready with his cash. I've some other
things inside, sir, which you might wish to buy--some
pistols.”
Jack was about to comply; but not liking the man's
manner, he walked on.
Farther on, there was a small chandler's shop, where
Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter,
attended by a little girl. Seeing provisions in the
window, Jack ventured in and bought a loaf.
Having secured this—for he was almost famished-
he said that he had lost a hamımer, and wished to pur-
chase one.
The old woman told him she had no such
article to dispose of, but recommended him to a neigh-
bouring blacksmith.
Guided by the glare of the forge, which threw a
stream of ruddy light across the road, Jack soon found


228
JACK SHEPPARD
the place of which he was in search. Entering the
workshop, he found the blacksmith occupied in heating
the tire of a cart-wheel.
Suspending his labour on Jack's appearance, the man
demanded his business Making up a similar story
to that which he had told the old woman, he said he
wanted to purchase a hammer and a file
The man
looked hard at him.
“Answer me one question first,” he said; “I half
suspect you're Jack Sheppard.”
“I am,” replied Jack, without hesitation ; for he
felt assured, from the man's manner, that he might
confide in him.
“ You're a bold fellow, Jack,” rejoined the black-
smith. “But you've done well to trust me.
I'll take
off
your
irons—for I guess that's the reason why you
want the hammer and file-on one condition.”
6 What is it?"
“That you give 'em to me."
“Readily."
Taking Jack into a shed behind the workshop,
the smith in a short time freed him from his fetters,
He not only did this, but supplied him with an oint-
ment which allayed the swelling of his limbs, and
crowned all by furnishing him with a jug of excellent
ale.
“I'm afraid, Jack, you'll come to the gallows," ob-
served the smith; " but if you do, I'll go to Tyburn to
see you. But I'll never part with your irons.”
Noticing the draggled condition Jack was in, he then
fetched him a bucket of water, with which Jack cleansed
bimself as well as he could, and thanking the honest
smith, who would take nothing for his trouble, left
the shop.
Having made a tolerably good meal upon the loaf,
overcome by fatigue, Jack turned into a barn in Stoke
Newington, and slept till late in the day, when he


JACK SHEPPARD
229
awakened much refreshed. The swelling in his limbs
had also subsided. It rained heavily all day, so he
did not stir forth.
Towards night, however, he ventured out, and
walked on towards London. When he arrived at
Hoxton, he found the walls covered with placards
offering a reward for his apprehension, and he every-
where appeared to be the general subject of conver-
sation. From a knot of idlers at a public-house, he
learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and
that his setters were scouring the country in every
direction.
Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-
end; and, having some knowledge of a second-hand
tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither and
looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword,
cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. The man
asked twelve guineas, but after a little bargaining, he
came down to ten.
Taking his new purchase under his arm, Jack pro-
ceeded to a small tavern in the same street, where,
having ordered dinner, he went to a bedroom to attire
himself. He had scarcely completed his toilette, when he
was startled by a noise at the door, and heard his
name pronounced in no friendly accents. Fortunately,
the window was not far from the ground; so, opening
it gently, he dropped into a back-yard, and from thence
got into the street.
Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by
a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. Jack
paused for a moment, and found that his own adven-
tures formed the subject of the ballad. Not daring,
however, to listen to it, he ran on.
wn


230
JACK SHEPPARD
XXVI
How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral.
That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up
his quarters at a small tavern called the Wheatsheal,
near the Green
On the next morning-Sunday-the
day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take
place, he set out along the Harrow Road
It was a clear, lovely October morning. The air was
sharp and bracing, and the leaves, which had taken
their autumnal tints, were falling from the trees. Tbo
road, which wound by Westbourne Green, gave him a
full view of the bill of Hampstead, with its church, its
crest of houses, and its villas peeping from out the trees.
Jack's heart was too full to allow him to derive any
pleasure from this scene; so be strolled on without
raising his eyes, till be arrived at Kensal Green Here
he obtained some breakfast, and, mounting the bill,
turned off into the fields on the right. Crossing them.
he ascended an eminence, which, from its singular shape,
seems to bave been the site of a Roman encampment,
and which commands a magnificent prospect.
Leaning upon a gate be looked down into the valley.
It was the very spot from which his poor mother had
gazed after her vaid attempt to rescue him at the Mint,
but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone
present to bim.
He bebeld the grey tower of Willesden
Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed
in all the glowing livery of autumn There was the
cottage she had inhabited for so many years—in those
fields she had rambled-at that church she had prayed.
And he had destroyed all this. But for him she might
have been alive and happy. The recollection was too
painful, and he burst into an agony of tears.


JACK SHEPPARD
231
Aroused by the sound of the church bells, he resolved,
at whatever risk, to attend Divine service. With this
view, he descended the hill, and presently found a foot-
path leading to the church.
But he was destined to have every tide of feeling
awakened-every wound opened. The path he had
selected conducted him to his mother's humble dwelling.
When she occupied it, it was neatness itself; the little
porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim, and
exquisitely kept. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds.
The glass in the windows was broken—the roof un-
thatched—the walls dilapidated. Jack turned away
with an aching heart. It seemed an emblem of the
ruin he had caused.
As he proceeded, other painful reminiscences were
aroused. At every step he seemed to be haunted by
the ghost of the past. There was the stile on which
Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect
of his mocking glance-how it had hardened his heart
against his mother's prayer.
“O God!” he exclaimed, "I am severely punished.”
He had now gained the high road. The villagers
were thronging to church. Rounding the corner of a
garden wall, he came upon his former place of imprison-
ment. Some rustic hand had written upon the door,
" JACK SHEPPARD's CAGE”; and upon the wall was
affixed a large placard describing his person, and offering
a reward for his capture. Muffling up his face, Jack
turned away; but he had not proceeded many steps
when he heard a man reading aloud an account of bis
escapes
from a newspaper.
Hastening to the church, he entered it by the very
door near which his first crime had been committed.
His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears,
and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting
attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when
he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked


232
JACK SHEPPARD
pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm. They
were followed by Mr. Wood, in the deepest mourning.
Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner
of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. The
service began. Jack, who had not been in a place of
worship for many years, was powerfully affected.
Accidentally raising his eyes, he saw that he was
perceived by the family from Dollis Hill, and that he
was an object of the deepest interest to them
As soon as the service was over, Thames contrived
to approach him, and whispered-
“Be cautious—the funeral will take place after
evening service."
Jack would not hazard a glance at Winifred; but,
quitting the church, got into an adjoining meadow,
and watched the party slowly ascending the road
leading to Dollis Hill. At a turn in the road he per-
ceived Winifred looking anxiously towards him, and
when she discovered him, she waved her hand. Re-
turning to the churchyard, he walked round it; and
on the western side, near a small yew-tree, discovered
a new-made grave.
“Whose grave is this ?” he inquired of a man who
was standing near it.
“I can't say," answered the fellow; "but I'll inquire
from the sexton, William Morgan. Here, Peter," he
added, to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of
the grassy tombs, "ask your father to step this way.”
The little urchin set off, and presently returned with
the sexton.
"It's Mrs. Sheppard's grave—the mother of the
famous housebreaker,” said Morgan, in answer to Jack's
inquiry; "and it's well they let her have Christian
burial after all—for they say she destroyed herself for
The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday
and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she
would have been buried at four lane-ends."
her son.


JACK SHEPPARD
235
corpse into the earth, Jack fell on bis knees beside the
coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, re-
proaching himself with the murder of his mother, and
invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. A
murmur ran through the assemblage, by several of
whom Jack was recognised. But such was the violence
of his grief-such the compunction he exhibited—that
all bat one looked on with an eye of compassion. That
person advanced towards him.
** I have killed her," cried Jack.
"You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible
grasp on his shoulder.
"You are my prisoner.”
Jack started to his feet; but before he could defend
himself, his right arm was grasped by the Jew, who
bad silently approached him.
“Hell bounds !” be cried ;
“ release me!”
At the same moment, Quilt Arnold rushed forward
with such haste, that, stumbling over William Morgan.
he precipitated him into the grave.
"Wretch !" cried Jack. “Are you not content with
the crimes you have committed—but you must carry
your villaing to this point? Look at the poor victim
at your feet."
Jonathan made no reply, but ordered his myrmidons
to drag the prisoner along.
Thames, meanwhile, had drawn bis sword, and was
about to rush upon Jonathan; but he was withheld by
Wood
6. Do not shed more blood,” cried the carpenter.
Groans and boots were now raised by the crowd, and
there was an evident disposition to rescue. A small
brick bat was thrown, which struck Jonathan in the
face.
* You shall not pass," cried several of the crowd.
"I knew bis mother, and for her sake I'll pot see
tbis done,” cried John Dump.
“ Slip on the handcuffs," cried the thief-taker.


230
JACK SHEPPARD
I am
>>
“ And now let's see who'll dare to oppose me.
Jonathan Wild. I have arrested him in the king's
name."
A deep indignant groan followed.
“Let me see the earth thrown over her," implored
Jack; "and take me where you please.”
“No," thundered Wild.
“Allow him this small grace,” cried Wood.
"No, I tell you," rejoined Jonathan, shouldering his
way out of the crowd.
“My mother-my poor mother!” exclaimed Jack.
But in spite of his outcries and resistance, he was
dragged along by Jonathan and his janizaries. At the
eastern gate of the churchyard stood the carriage with
the steps lowered. The mob pursued the thief-taker
and his party all the way, and such missiles as could
be collected were hurled at them. They even threatened
to cut the traces, and take off the wheels from the
carriage. The Jew got in first. The prisoner was the
thrust in by Quilt. Before Jonathan followed he turned
to face his assailants.
“ Back!” he cried fiercely. “I am an officer in the
execution of my duty. And he who opposes me in it
shall feel the weight of my hand.”
He then sprang into the coach, the door of which
was closed by Obadiah, who mounted the box.
"To Newgate," cried Jonathan, putting his head
out of the window.
A deep roar followed this order, and several missiles
were launched at the vehicle, which was driven off at a
furious pace.
And, while her son was reconveyed to prison, the body
of the unfortunate Mrs. Sheppard was committed to
the earth.


JACK SHEPPARD
237
XXVII
How Jack Sheppard was brought back to Newgate.
JACK SHEPPARD's escape from Newgate on the night
of the 15th of October was not discovered till the
following morning ; for although the intelligence was
brought by several parties to the Lodge in the course
of the night, Austin, who was the officer in attendance,
paid no attention to them.
After pursuing the fugitive as before related,
Jonathan Wild returned to his own habitation, where
he was occupied during the remainder of the night,
with Quilt Arnold and Obadiah Lemon, in removing
everything which, in case of search, might tend to
criminate him. Satisfied in this respect, he flung
himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom re-
quired the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's
repose before he began the villainies of another day.
He was aroused from his slumber, about six o'clock,
by the return of Abraham Mendez, who, not choosing
to confess that Jack had eluded his vigilance, con-
tented himself with stating that he had kept watch
till daybreak, when he had carefully searched the field,
and finding no trace of him, had thought it better to
return.
This information was received by Jonathan with a
lowering brow. He comforted himself, however, with
the certainty which he felt of capturing his prey on
the Sunday. His breakfast despatched, which he ate
with a wolfish appetite, he walked over to Newgate,
chuckling as he went at the consternation which his
appearance would create amongst the turnkeys.
Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was
Austin, who was only just up, and whose "pilette ap-


JACK SHEPPARD
241
tained profound secrecy as to his hopes of capturing
the fugitive; and when Jack was brought back to
Newgate on the Sunday evening, his arrival was
wholly unexpected. At a little after five, on that day,
four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey,
and drew up before the door of the Lodge. Hearing
the stoppage, Austin rushed out, and could scarcely
believe his eyes when he beheld Jack Sheppard in the
custody of Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez.
Jack's recapture was speedily made known to all
the officers of the gaol, and the Lodge was instantly
crowded. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all
bounds; but poor Mrs. Spurling was in a state of dis-
traction, and began to abuse Jonathan so violently,
that her future husband was obliged to lay forcible
hands
upon
her and drag her away.
By Wild's command the prisoner was taken to the
Condemned Hold, whither he was followed by the
whole posse of officers and by the partners; two of
whom carried large hammers and two the fetters.
There was only one prisoner in the ward. He was
chained to the ground, but started up at their approach.
It was Blueskin. When he beheld Jack, he uttered a
deep groan.
Captain,” he cried, in a voice of the bitterest
anguish, “have these dogs again hunted you down?
If you hadn't been so unlucky, I should have been
with
you
before to-morrow night."
Jack made no answer, nor did he even cast his eyes
upon his follower. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible
look upon him, cried-
“Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. My
lads," he continued, addressing the partners, “when
you've finished this job, give that fellow a fresh set of
darbies. I suspect he has been at work upon those he
has on."
“ The link of the chain next the staple is sawn


JACK SHEPPARD
243
a bound like that of a tiger, Blueskin sprang upon
him. The chain, which had been partially cut through,
snapped near the staple.
Before any assistance could be rendered by the
gaolers, who stood astounded, Blueskin had got Wild
in his clutches. His strength has been described as
prodigious; but now, heightened by the desire for
vengeance, it was irresistible. Jonathan, though a
very powerful man, was like an infant in his gripe.
Catching hold of his chin, he bent back the neck,
while with his left hand he pulled out a clasp-knife,
which he opened with his teeth, and grasping Wild's
head with his arm, notwithstanding his resistance, cut
deeply into his throat.
The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree
protected him, but the gash was desperate. Blueskin
drew the knife across his throat a second time, widen-
ing and deepening the wound; and, wrenching back
the head to get it into a more favourable position,
would infallibly have severed it from the trunk, if the
officers, who by this time had recovered from their
terror, had not thrown themselves upon him, and
withheld him.
“Now's your time,” cried Blueskin, struggling des-
perately with his assailants, and inflicting severe cuts
with his knife. “Fly, captain-fly!”
Aroused to a sense of the possibility of escape, Jack,
who had viewed the deadly assault with savage satis-
faction, burst from his captors and made for the door.
Blueskin fought his way towards it, and exerting all
his strength, cutting right and left as he proceeded,
reached it at the same time.
Jack, in all probability, would have escaped, if
Langley, who was left in the Lodge, had not been
alarmed at the noise, and rushed thither. Seeing
Jack at liberty, he instantly seized him, and a struggle
commenced.


244
JACK SHEPPARD
open
At this moment Blueskin came up, and kept off the
officers with his knife. He used his utmost efforts to
liberate Jack from Langley; but, closely pressed on all
sides, he was not able to render any effectual assistance.
“Fly!” cried Jack; escape, if you can; don't
mind me."
Casting one look of anguish at his leader, Blueskin
then darted down the passage.
The only persons in the Lodge were Mrs. Spurling
and Marvel. Hearing the noise of the scuffle, the
tapstress, fancying it was Jack making an effort to
escape, in spite of the remonstrances of the executioner,
threw the wicket. Blueskin, therefore, had nothing
to stop him. Dashing through the open door, he crossed
the Old Bailey, plunged into a narrow court, on the
opposite side of the way, and was out of sight in a
minute, baffling all pursuit. On their return, the
gaolers raised up Jonathan, who was weltering in his
blood, and who appeared to be dying. Efforts were
made to stanch his wounds, and surgical assistance
sent for.
“Has he escaped ?” asked the thief-taker faintly.
“Blueskin ?" said Ireton.
“No-Sheppard ?" rejoined Wild.
“No, no, sir,” replied Ireton. “ He's here."
“That's right," replied Wild, with a ghastly smile.
Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold-watch over
him night and day, do you mind ?"
“I do, sir.”
"Irons--heavy irons-night and day."
Depend upon it, sir.”
“Go with him to Tyburn--never lose sight of him
till the noose is tied. Where's Marvel ?”
“Here, sir," replied the executioner.
“A hundred guineas if you hang Jack Sheppard.
I have it about me. Take it, if I die."
"Never fear, sir," replied Marvel.


JACK SHEPPARD
245
“Oh! that I could live to see it,” gasped Jonathan.
And, with a hideous expression of pain, he fainted.
“ He's dead !” exclaimed Austin.
“I am content,” said Jack. My mother is avenged.
Take me to the Stone Room. Blueskin, you are a true
friend."
The body of Jonathan was then conveyed to his own
habitation, while Jack was taken to the Middle Stone
Room, and ironed in the manner Wild had directed.
XXVIII
him any
What happened at Dollis Hill.
“At length this tragedy is at an end,” said Mr. Wood,
as, having seen the earth thrown over the remains of
the unfortunate Mrs. Sheppard, he turned to quit the
churchyard. “Let us hope that, like her who loved
much,' her sins are forgiven her.”
Without another word, and accompanied by Thames,
he then took his way to Dollis Hill in a state of the
deepest depression. Thames did not attempt to offer
consolation, for he was almost as much dejected.
The weather harmonised with their feelings. It rained
slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air and
obscured the beautiful prospect.
On his arrival at Dollis Hill, Mr. Wood was so much
exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room,
where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief.
The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse
turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother.
As the night advanced, Mr. Wood again made his
appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and,
at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to
partake of some refreshment. An hour was then


246
JACK SHEPPARD
passed in conversation as to the possibility of render-
ing any assistance to Jack, in deploring his unhappy
destiny, and in the consideration of the course to be
pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild
While they were thus occupied, & maid - servant
entered the room, and stated that a person was without
who had a packet for Captain Darrell, which must be
delivered into his own bands. Notwithstanding the
remonstrances of Wood and Winifred, Thames instantly
followed the domestic, and found a man, with his face
muffled
up, at the door, as she bad described Some.
what alarmed at his appearance, Thames laid his hand
upon his sword
“Fear nothing, sir," said the man, ia a voice which
Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin. “I
am come to render you a service. There are the
packets which my captain hazarded his life to procure
for you, and which he said would establish your right
to the estates of the Trenchard family. There are also
the letters which were scattered about Wild's room
after the murder of Sir Rowland. And there," he
added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and
a pocket-book, “is a sum little short of fifteen thousand
pounds."
“How have you procured these things?” asked
Thames, in the utmost astonishment.
“I carried them off on the fatal night when we got
into Wild's house, and you were struck down,” replied
Blueskin. They have ever since been deposited in a
place of safety. You have nothing more to fear from
Wild.”
“ How so?" asked Thames.
“I have saved the executioner a labour, by cutting
his throat,” replied Blueskin. And
may
I be cursed
if ever I did anything in my whole life which gave me
80 much satisfaction."
Almighty God! is this possible?" exclaimed Thames,
66
66


JACK SHEPPARD
247
You will find it true," replied Blueskin. “ All I
regret is, that I failed in liberating the captain. If he
had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome.”
“What can be done for him ?” cried Thames.
“That's not an easy question to answer,” rejoined
Blueskin. “But I shall watch night and day about
Newgate, in the hope of getting him out. He wouldn't
require my aid, but before I stopped Jonathan's mouth,
he had ordered him to be doubly ironed, and constantly
watched. And though the villain can't see his orders
executed, I've no doubt some one else will."
“Poor Jack,"exclaimed Thames. “I would sacrifice
all my fortune--all my hopes—to liberate him."
“If you're in earnest,” rejoined Blueskin, "give me
that bag of gold. It contains a thousand pounds; and
if all other schemes fail, I'll engage to free him on the
way to Tyburn."
May I trust you ?” hesitated Thames.
Why did I not keep the money when I had it?”
returned Blueskin angrily. “Not a farthing of it shall
be expended except in the captain's service."
“Take it," replied Thames.
“You have saved his life," replied Blueskin. “And
now, mark me. You owe what I have done for you to
him, not to me. Had I not known that you and your
aflianced bride are dearer to him than life, I should
have used this money to secure my own safety. Take
it, and take the estates, in Captain Sheppard's name.
Promise me one thing before I leave you.”
“What is it?" asked Thames.
“If the captain is taken to Tyburn, be near the
place of execution—at the end of the Edgeware Road.”
“I will."
"In case of need, you will lend a helping hand ?"
“Yes-yes."
Swear it!”
“ I do.”


248
JACK SHEPPARD
"Enough!" rejoined Blueskin.
And he departed, just as Wood, who had become
alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance,
with a blunderbuss in his hand.
Hastily acquainting bim with the treasures he had
unexpectedly obtained, Thames returned to the room
to apprise Winifred of his good-fortune. The packets
were hastily broken
open;
and while Wood was absorbed
in the perusal of the despatch addressed to him by Sir
Rowland, Thames sought out, and found the letter
which he had been prevented from finishing on the
fatal night at Jonathan Wild's. As soon as he had
read it, he let it fall from his grasp. Winifred instantly
picked it up.
“You are no longer Thames Darrell,” she said,
casting her eyes rapidly over it, “but the Marquis
de Chatillon!”
My father was of the blood-royal of France," ex-
claimed Thames.
“Heyday! what's this ?” cried Wood, looking up
from beneath his spectacles. “ Who-who is the
Marquis de Chatillon ?"
“ Your adopted son, Thames Darrell,” answered
Winifred.
“And the marchioness is your daughter," added
Thames.
“O Lord !” ejaculated Wood. “My head fairly
turns round. So many distresses So many joys
coming at the same time are too much for me Read
that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Read
it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir
Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lan-
cashire. You've nothing to do but to take possession."
“What a strange history is mine!” said Thames
"Kidnapped, and sent to France by one uncle, it wa.
my lot to fall into the hands of another-my father's
own brother, the Marshal Gaucher de Chatillon ; to


JACK SHEPPARD
251
mony; and, as soon as it was over, the wedded pair
were followed to the carriage, and the loudest bene-
dictions uttered for their happiness. In spite of the
tumultuous joy which agitated him, the bridegroom
could not prevent the intrusion of some saddening
thoughts, as he reflected upon the melancholy scene
which he had so recently witnessed in the same place.
The youthful couple had been seated in the carriage
a few minutes, when they were joined by Mr. Wood,
who had merely absented himself to see that a public
breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all
wbo chose to partake of it, was in readiness. He like-
wise gave directions, that in the after part of the day
a whole bullock should be roasted on the green, and dis-
tributed, together with a barrel of the strongest ale.
In the evening a band of village musicians, accom-
panied by most of the young inhabitants of Willesden,
strolled out to Dollis Hill, where they formed a rustic
concert under the great elm before the door. Here
they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the
hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended
the repast. These festivities, however, were not wit-
nessed by the newly married pair, who had departed
immediately after the ceremony for Manchester.
XXIX
How Jack Sheppard was taken to Westminster Hall.
LOADED with the heaviest fetters, and constantly
watched by two of the gaoler's assistants, who neither
quitted him for a single moment, nor suffered any
visitor to approach him, Jack Sheppard found all
attempts to escape impracticable.
He was confined in the Middle Stone Ward, a


JACK SHEPPARD
255
the crowd out of the Hall. The doors were closed
and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them
open if Jack was not delivered to them.
Things now began to wear so serious an aspect, that
a messenger was secretly despatched to the Savoy for
troops, and in half-an-hour a regiment of the guards
arrived, who, by dint of great exertion, succeeded in
partially dispersing the tumultuous assemblage. An-
other coach was then procured, in which the prisoner
was placed.
Jack's appearance was hailed with the loudest cheers,
but when Jonathan followed and took a place beside
him in the vehicle, determined, he said, never to lose
sight of him, the abhorrence of the multitude was
expressed by execrations, hoots, and yells of the most
terrific kind. So dreadful were these shouts, as to
produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of
Jonathan, who shrank out of sight.
It was well for him that he had taken his place by
Sheppard, as regard for the latter alone prevented the
deadliest missiles being hurled at him. As it was, the
mob went on alternately hooting and huzzaing as the
names of Wild and Sheppard were pronounced, while
some individuals, bolder than the rest, thrust their
faces into the coach-window, and assured Jack that he
should never be taken to Tyburn.
“We'll see that, you yelping hounds !” rejoined
Jonathan, glaring fiercely at them.
In this way Jack was brought back to Newgate, and
again chained down in the Middle Ward. It was late
before Jonathan ventured to his own house, where he
remained up all night, and kept his janizaries and
other assistants well armed.


256
JACK SHEPPARD
XXX
How Jonathan Wild's House was burnt down.
The day appointed for the execution was now close at
hand, and the prisoner, who seemed to have abandoned
all hopes of escape, turned his thoughts entirely from
worldly considerations.
On Sunday he was conveyed to the chapel, through
which he bad passed on the occasion of his great escape,
and once more took his seat in the Condemned Pew.
The Reverend Mr. Purney, the ordinary, who had
latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed
him in a discourse, wbicb, while it tended to keep
alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford
him much consolation. The chapel was crowded to
excess.
But here—even here the demon was suffered to
intrude, and Jack's thoughts were distracted by
Jonathan Wild, who stood at a little distance from
him, and kept his bloodthirsty eyes fixed on him
during the whole of the service.
On that night, an extraordinary event occurred,
which convinced the authorities that every precaution
must be taken in conducting Jack to Tyburn-a fact
of which they had been previously made aware, though
scarcely to the same extent, by the riotous proceedings
near Westminster Hall.
About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before
the Lodge at Newgate. It was quite dark; but as
some of the assemblage carried links, it was soon
ascertained to be headed by the same party who had
mainly incited the former disturbance. Amongst the
ringleaders was Blueskin, whose swarthy features and
athletic figure were easily distinguished. Another was


258
JACK SHEPPARD
direction. The door was locked; but, with the bars of
iron, it was speedily burst open. Several of the assail-
ants carried links, so that the room was in a blaze of
light.
Jonathan, however, was nowhere to be seen. Rushing
towards the entrance of the Well Hole, Blueskin touched
the secret spring. He was not there. Opening the
trap-door, he then descended to the vaults-searched
each cell, and every nook and corner separately. Wild
had escaped.
Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became
ungovernable. At length, at the end of a passage next
to the cell where Mrs. Sheppard had been confined,
Blueskin discovered a trap-door, which he had not
previously noticed. It was instantly burst
open,
when
the horrible stench that issued from it, convinced them
that it must be a receptacle for the murdered victims
of the thief-taker.
Holding a link into the place, which had the
appear-
ance of a deep pit, Blueskin noticed a body richly
dressed. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of
the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland
Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it
upstairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
Returning to the audience-chamber, Blueskin had
the Jew brought before him. The body of Sir Rowland
was then laid on the large table. Opposite to it was
placed the Jew.
Seeing, from the threatening looks of his captors, that
they were about to wreak their vengeance upon him,
the miserable wretch besought mercy in abject terms,
and charged his master with the most atrocious crimes.
His relation of the murder of Sir Rowland petrified even
bis fierce auditors.
One of the cases in Jonathan's museum was now
burst open, and a rope taken from it. In spite of his
shrieks, the miserable Jew was then dragged into the


JACK SHEPPARD
259
Well Hole, and the rope being tied round his neck, he
was launched from the bridge.
The vengeance of the assailants did not stop here.
They broke open the entrance into Jonathan's store-room
-plundered it of everything valuable---ransacked every
closet, drawer, and secret hiding-place, and stripped them
of their contents.
Large hoards of money were discovered, gold and
silver plate, cases of watches, and various precious
articles. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable, was
left. Old implements of house breaking were discovered;
and the thief-taker's most hidden depositories were laid
bare.
The work of plunder over, that of destruction com-
menced. Straw and other combustibles being collected,
were placed in the middle of the audience-chamber.
On these were thrown all the horrible contents of
Jonathan's museum, together with the body of Sir
Rowland Trenchard. The whole was then fired, and
in a few minutes the room was in a blaze. Not content
with this, the assailants set fire to the house in half-a-
dozen other places; and the progress of the flames was
rapid and destructive.
Meanwhile, the object of all this fearful disturbance
had made his escape to Newgate, from the roof of which
he witnessed the destruction of his premises. He saw
the flames burst from the windows, and perhaps in that
maddening spectacle suffered torture equivalent to some
of the crimes he had committed.
While he was thus standing, the flames of his house,
which made the whole street as light as day, and
ruddily illumined the faces of the mob below, betrayed
him to them, and he was speedily driven from his
position by a shower of stones and other missiles.
The mob now directed their attention to Newgate,
and, from their threats, appeared determined to fire it.
Ladders, pavior's rams, sledge-hammers, and other


JACK SHEPPARD
263
“If I do, I care not," rejoined Wild; “I shall have
lived to see you hanged.”
“O Jack, dear, dear Jack !” cried Mrs. Marvel, who
was now quite dissolved in tears ; “I shall never
survive this scene."
"Hold your tongue, hussy!” cried her husband gruffly.
6 Women ought never to show themselves on these occa-
sions, unless they can behave themselves properly.”
Farewell, Jack,” cried twenty voices.
Sheppard looked round, and exchanged kindly
glances with several of those who addressed him.
“My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are
removed,” he observed with a smile, “that I am half
inclined to dance."
“You'll dance upon nothing presently,” rejoined
Jonathan brutally.
"Farewell for ever,” said Jack, extending his hand
to Mrs. Marvel.
“Farewell !” blubbered the executioner's wife,
pressing his hand to her lips. “Here are a pair of
gloves and a nosegay for you. Oh, dear !-oh, dear !
Be careful of him,” she added to her husband, “and
get it over quickly, or never expect to see me again."
“Peace, fool!” cried Marvel angrily. “Do you
think I don't know my own business ?”
Austin and Langley then advanced to the prisoner,
and, twining their arms round his, led him down to
the Lodge, whither he was followed by the sheriffs,
the ordinary, Wild, and the other officials.
Meantime, every preparation had been made outside
for his departure. At the end of two long lines of
foot-guards stood the cart, with a powerful black horse
harnessed to it. At the head of the cart was placed
the coffin. On the right were several mounted
grenadiers; on the left some half-dozen javelin-men.
Soldiers were stationed at different points of the street
to keep off the mob, and others were riding backwards


272
JACK SHEPPARD
more.
anxiously for Thames; but he was nowhere to be seen.
A severe pang shot through Jack's heart, and he would
have given worlds, if he possessed them, to have seen
his friend once
The wish was vain ; and,
endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he
addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer.
While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back
tu Marvel, to tell him that all was ready, and to give
him his last instructions.
“You'll lose no time,” said the thief-taker. “A
hundred pounds if you do it quickly.”
“Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing
away his pipe, which was just finished.
A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a
thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage.
The thousand voices which a few moments before had
been so clamorous were now hushed. Not a breath
was drawn. The troops had kept a large space clear
around the gallows. The galleries adjoining it were
crowded with spectators—80 was the roof of a large
tavern, then the only house stavding at the end of the
Edgeware Road-80 were the trees-the walls of Hyde
Park—a neighbouring barn, a shed-in short, every
available position.
The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree.
The guards, horse and foot, and constables, formed a
wide circle round it to keep off the mob. It was an
awful moment—80 awful, that every other feeling
except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended.
At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his com-
posure—a smile played upon his face before the cap
was drawn over it and the last words he uttered
were, “My poor mother! I shall soon join her!
The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to
move.
The next instant he was launched into eternity!
Scarcely had he been turned off a moment, when a


JACK SHEPPARD
273
man with swarthy features leaped into the cart with an
open clasp-knife in his hand, and, before he could be
prevented, severed the rope and cut down the body. It
was Blueskin. His assistance came too late. A ball
from Wild's pistol passed through his heart, and a
volley of musketry poured from the guards, and lodged
several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader.
Blueskin, however, was not unattended. A thousand
eager assistants pressed behind him. Jack's body was
caught, and passed from hand to hand over a thousand
heads, till it was far from the fatal tree.
The shouts of indignation—the frightful yells now
raised, baffle description. A furious attack was made
on Jonathan, who, though he defended himself like a
lion, was desperately wounded, and would inevitably
have perished if he had not been protected by the
guards, who were obliged to use both swords and fire-
arms upon the mob in his defence.
He was at length rescued from his assailants—rescued
to perish, seven months afterwards, with every igno-
miny, at the very gibbet to which he had brought his
victim.
The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne
along by that tremendous host, which rose and fell like
the waves of the ocean, until it approached the termina-
tion of the Edgeware Road.
At this point a carriage, with servants in sumptuous
liveries, was stationed. At the open door stood a young
man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was
encouraging the mob by words and gestures. At length
the body was brought towards him. Instantly seizing
it, the young man placed it in the carriage, chut the
door, and commanded his servants to drive off. The
order was promptly obeyed, and the horses proceeded
at a furious pace along the Edgeware Road.
Half-an-hour afterwards the body of Jack was care-
fully examined. It had been cut down before life was


274
JACK SHEPPARD
extinct, but a ball from one of the soldiers had pierced
his heart.
Thus died Jack Sheppard.
That night a grave was dug in Willesden Churchyard
next to that in which Mrs. Sheppard had been interred.
Two persons, besides the clergyman and sexton, alone
attended the ceremony. They were a young man and
an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. The
coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners
departed. A simple wooden monument was placed
over the grave, but without any name or date. In
after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription,
which ran thus-

JACK SHEPPARD