^icrf ^^ h^m^ •y:«c<5c ^s^r^r*^^ ^A -ed lightly and with an ^viident design of not lemaiijing for any leiigth of time in one jJace ; the roof presented an otld assemblage of beoons, plaster, lath^, cobwebs aud blackness ; w'hile the walls, which had lost their native freshness for so long a period as to «*eate a doubt whether tliey had ever pos- sessed any, bore tokens of a taste in one of the occupiei's for the fine arts, for they w^e covered with drawings, in 51 rude style, certainly, but as the artist had written beneath each specimen of his ability a description of the subject be had intended to portray, the .'spectator was not left to sj)eculate upon the in- tention oi the design. Here was the portrait of an old man in a long curly ^^'ip — a frortt view of the face, if we except the nosCj whidj was in profile and rather exuberant ; there was a view of Newgate; a man hanging himself ^ a portrait of his Satanic Majesty ; the dying speech and confession of Tom Shepperd, the very celebrated and highly renowned housebreaker, who was hung for feloniously and burglariously entering and breaking into a mansion or dwellmg house, &c., and who died" game, kicking off his shoes at the last moment, swearing he would not die "like a horse, in his shoes." On some parts of tlie wall were outlines of animals, on others couplets and distiches, some of a moral .-md others of a highly immoral tendency ; which did we' thmk would interest or entertain our virtuous reader we would transcribe/ but as we have strong doubts upon the subject we decline the task, and- ^, leave the matter in abeyance for at least the present ; upon the dilapidated -^ table Mr. \\oulds (for that was the name the ancestors of the man who ac- £: compamed Jlrs. Shcpjierd into the miserable ai)artmeut had bequeathed to him) placed his lantern, and then proceeded to draw from his capacious pockets several articles of food, which, as he laid each upon the table, he ac- companied by an ejaculation of "There! there '"'—r.nd, finishing with a flask of wme, he terminated his monosyllables with, "And there ! Now, Mrs. Shep- c: JACK SHEFPEED. - perd," he continued, "set down and pick a bit, it'll do you good. Here, have you anything we can make a bit of fire with ?" Mrs. Shepperd pointed out, some chips in a corner, and gathering up a quantity he threw them into the firegrate, and with some paper, which had been wrapped round some portion of the provisions, he made a fire, which threw alight round thp room, and made it look at least a little v/arraer if it did not add to its appearance of comfort. " Come, come," he cried, " cheer up; here, take a drop of wine ; it is of the right sort and will do you good — you have need of something to comfort you ; for, God help you, poor lass ! you have had your share of troubles in this wicked world."' "You ere very kind, Sir; very, very good; you were always so, and the Lord will reward you for it, as the feelings of your own heart must do now Sir; 1 would cheer up — I would strive to be less wretched,if it was but for the sake of the poor child which is left me in my grief and misery, but I cannot. Sir; I have a weight upon m.y brain and a choking in my throat, which is ray companion night and day ; ic haunts me, hangs on me, and is dragging me to the grave swiftly and surely ; I know it, I feel it, for ever — for ever." " Nay, not so, Jane ; you must look forward for better times," said AVoulds, feelingly ; '' the longest lane has its turning, and there is better times m store for you ; you will yet live to see your son grow up and give you a comfortable home for your old age." " I wish I could think so," replied Mrs. Shepperd, shaking her head mournfully ; " I wish I could think so ; but his fate is marked out — he's a doomed child." " A what r" cried Woulds, in astonishment. " A doomed child. Sir," reiterated the widow. " A doomed fiddlestick," exclaimed Woulds, rather angrily; "What makes you think such nonsense, eh ?" " I wish I could think that it was nonsense, Sir. Look here," said the wretched widow, as she unfolded from the child the v/ooUen shawl which encircled it, and displayed the strong-marked features of an infant, which would have been a remarkab y fine one, if the misery of the mother had not contrbuted a sickliness to it which was not natural to its formation. " My God !" exclaimed Woulds, " how like his unfortunate father." " Ah, Sir," said Mrs. Shepperd, " but it is not that to which I allude : here, do you see this thin blue line, wliich passes round his throat and becomes thicker as it reaches the left ear — it is that which foretels his destiny. Be- sides, Sir. it is not my own fancy, but was prophesied by the great conjuror. Mynheer Von Gewesen, who is the close friend of the Mint Master. He saw my boy the other night and said, for I shall never forget the words while I have breath in rny body, ' Poor child ! thy life will be a sorry one — a hempen off- spring, a hempen death ; thy breath was given thee in the dungeon, it v/ill leave thee at its door ; thou art doomed !' The words have rung through my brain ceaselessly from that hour ; they are written in fire upon my heart ; I have tried to think the man is but a mortal and cannot predict the will of Almighty God — I have tried to think that the mark is but the emblem of the agony I endured while I lay in prison, of the horrid dreams — the awful waking thoughts I suffered in that dreadful place ; but no, I cannot drive it out — it will throng upon me. I thought of that in the hour of my extremity, when I brought this wretched child into the wurld — at the very hour when his father quitted it, in the last and direst ignominy — I thought nothing could surpass the misery of that time, but what I bear now is greater — is far greater," and she buried her head upon her child which laid upon her bosom. " Poor 80ul ! poor eoul !" ejaculated Woulds, and drew the back of his 4 THK LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF hand across his eyes. " But this is childishness," he continued ; " what effect can the mere saying of an old juggler have upon the destiny of the boy if he is properly brought up— none, none ; give him a good sound religious education, and the Lord will not forsake him in his hour of temptation : you bestow too much credence on what he has said, Jane ; 'tis but their trick of trade ; think no more on't." " I would not. Sir, but I cannot help it ; besides, I have known hini tell such terrible truths when he was in Newgate for high treason. He told the untried felons which of them would be hanged, and in no one instance did he fail. He told poor Tom what his fate would be, and was he not terribly correct ?" " Yet still, Jane, he may be wrong in your case ; let us hope he will. Did he tell you anything more respecting little Jack ?" " Yes, Sir; he said that he would ere his age had increased many hours, preserve from death one who would cleave to him through his future career." What he means I cannot tell, but I feel he sjioke the truth. Pray God I may not live to see the day which brings him to the I cannot speak the word — I cannot believe it can be true — I have prayed he might die — I have seen him get weaklier every hour, and I almost believe it will come to pass as I have prayed; and yet. Sir, I have all a mother's affection for her child, and God knows that is devotedness !" " Your troubles have made you superstitious and^elancholy, Mrs. Shep- perd," said Woulds. " What likelihood is thereof ababby saving a life; it is too absurd to think upon, and you may estimate this Van Gex — whatever his name is — prediction at the same rate. No, it is ridiculous. However, Mrs. Shepperd, make your mind easy about him : when he is old enough to leave your care, I will take him and acta parent's part byhim. I willgivehim aChris- tian education, and the knowledge of my own business ; he shall be taught that" honesty is the best policy," and so long as he sticks to the ])roverb so long will I stay by him — but no longer ; I will not befriend or even quietly look un roguery : while he is a honest lad he will find me a warm friend ; when he turns from that path we part for ever : you understand that, Mrs. Shepperd ?" " I do. Sir ; I would not wish you to act otherwise. God knows you are a friend to me in my hour of need and will be one to my boy in his. If he acts the serpent's part as a return for your goodness, it will i)e but a just punish- ment to cast him off for ever ; but yet. Sir, childhood has its fancies, and many things it desires from which it is right to debar it ; but with the thoughtless- ness of the age, it seeks the accomplishment of its object without always con- sidering the virtue of the means it employs ; and the bad advice of a companion will often plunge youth into crime if the/r*'^ error remains unpardoned ; and, Oh ! Sir, if my boy should commit a fault of this nature, not through his own wickedness of heart, but through the instigation of others and the desire to satisfy some foolish wish, you will not for his first offence thrust him forth to I)erish in the cold world, to meet perhaps from one fall to another the dis- graceful end which befel his father; for, should you, there will be none when he leaves you to take him by the hand ; no parent to guide him and show him his folly, for I shall be in my grave ere long, and he will be alone in this wide world without one friend but you in it." " You meet troubles half way, Mrs. Shepperd," said Woulds ; "I have told you I will show him the right path : if he quits that, it will be from his wickedness of heart and no other reason. I am not the man that would from a trivial error which might spring from the thoughtlessness of boyhood, judge sternly and unforgivingly ; I know my own imperfections better ; and as ! hojie to be jiardoned hereafter, it would not become me to visit him with harshness in such case— but I speak of honesty, Mrs. Shepperd, of honesty— JACK SHEPPERD. when Its value is known — and we have it impressed upon ua from infancy — any wilful dereliction from it, is a crime — not a trivial error, and shows a wickedness not a weakness in our nature : had your poor husband but un- derstood and practised this, you might not now have been in this wretched plight — and indeed, would not, for he was the best workman I ever saw handle a plane, and if he had liked could have always commanded enough work to give him a comfortable home ; but it was a wicked — never mind — never mind, he has suffered for it, and let it pass — and while your son is honest my hand shall never be withdrawn from him." "JGod bless you. Sir! God bless you!" fervently ejaculated the widow; " when the time comes it will be a hard trial for me to part with him, but it will be for his good, and after what I have gone through, and may endure until that period, will school me to bear the last trial my heart will know." " Why, Mrs. Shepperd," said Woulds, with some little asperity, " you speak of parting with him as if some dire calamity was about to befal him, inslead of his having the chance of becoming a worthy and perhaps wealthy member of society." " Do not be offended, dear Sir," said the widow, meekly; "I but re- membered that I have no relations in the world — that I am without friends or family — am desolate and alone on this earth ; and that when the hour comes which parts me from my child, the last tie which hinds me to the world will be broken, and then T may lay down my head and die." " Come, come," cried Woulds, soothingly, " I want to see you give up all this lowncss of spirits. I know you must have seen enough to make a long life out of twelve months, but ' what can't be cured must be endured ;' and it is of no use for you to think of such dreary things as dying while you are yet little more than a chdd. I am afraid you do not employ the proper means of keeping yourself in health, for I can see — I would not hurt your feelings for the world, I speak asa sincere friend — I can see the traces of loo free an in- dulgence in liquor marked strongly in your countenance. Do not continue it, if you have any respect for yourself, or any thoughts of not quitting the world in a manner I shudder to think upon." During this speech Mrs. Shep- perd had hung her head down and strained her child convidsively to her breast ; upon its conclusion she upturned her bright dark eyes upon Woulds and exclaimed, with an energy and an eloquence which astonished him, " You are right. Sir, you are right ! I have indulged in liquor, but not till I was an outcast from society, not till I had the last look of my husband in my sight and his last words upon my brain day and night. I wanted to stun it out; I beat my head, I clenched my hands in my eyes to shut it out, but it made it brighter than ever! I was shanned, pointed at, as the hempen widow. Every one shrunk from me and my child. I looked around me in vain lor some kind hand to stretch forth and save me from everlasting perdition, or even save my child, for that was the only thing which made me cling to life — my child— had it not been for the child. Oh ! God, I would not have out- lived my husband one short hour ; but I was a mother — Heaven knows, a wretched one, but siill I was a mother, and for my — for Ms child's sake — I existed — how, I dare scarcely remember. But think. Sir — see why I flew to into.xicating liquor : I was starving — no soul in the wide world who would know me — I had not the means of getting even the common necessaries of life — I had recourse to the only horrid means which nature placed in my power. I must have bread — I sold the last portion of self-respect, which I had kept sacred, for it — with want, desolation, and the bitterest misery enveloping me like an iron shroud, I sold my person to give my child bread : the recollec- tion added madness to my agony, and I drowned it with liquor — with gin. It may be the fire of eternal punishment hereafter— it might be anything— butit 6 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF brought me relief— it brought my early home— the laughing happy days of my youth-my mother— oh God ! it banished the horrid reahtyof my misery to bring me the happy dreams of a lime when sin and sorrow were thmgs un- known to me. This, Sir, is what it has done for me. It is killing me I know- but what have I to live for? Ko friends— no society, no liome s an outcast of the most wretched description, and not one atom of self-respect to cheer a future moment. Whv, then, should I abstain from it? Why should I not seek the only means I have of drosvning the recollection of that which I now endure ? " Tom ! Tom!" ejaculated Woulds " what have you not to answer for !" " Do not think ill of the dead," said Mrs. Shepperd, more calmly, '■ he has paid the forfeit of his errors, and do not load his memory with unkind thoughts." " It's not in my nature, Mrs. Shepperd," replied Woulds ; " but deceased worth has no reward, if we speak well of all who die, whether their actions have been good or evil ; but enough of this; lam sure our talk has been mournful enough : come, eat of these few thin;?s which I have brought }ou ; I will come soon again to see you, and you shall not want till then." " Your kindness is more than I can well bear, Sir; I cannot thank you as I ought— I feel ray heart in my throat as though it would choke me," said Mrs. Shepperd, with emotion; "but my poor husband always spoke of your kindness with much earnestness, and when I parted with him for ever he gave me a small packet to give to you as soon as I could see you." " A packet!" cried Woiildr., v;jth some :istonishment, " what can that be?" " I do not know, but I will fetch it. Sir, for you," replied Mrs Shepperd, " if you will be so good as to hold my child for me while I go up stairs, where I have put it." " Certainly," replied Woulds ; and Mrs. Shepperd laid the sleeping infant in his arms, and taking up the lantern quitted the room. Upon her departure Woulds gazed at the child for a few minutes, and he ran through in his thoughts the career of the child's father and the probable fate of the being before him; he then speculated upon the widow's history. He could not bring himself to believe but that her youth and education had in- tended her for a far different sphere and situation than that in which she was now placed; " and it shall go hard," he said, " if this child does not help to replace her in the station for which she is fitted — if Jack Death will but leave her alone until then. I wonder what my wife will say," he continued, " when I bring the youngster into the house. If it runs counter to her inclina- tion there will be something to settle — but we have none ourselves — and she can't object — and, dam'rae, she shan't ! — so, there, that's settled ! Old Ge — Ge — confound his ugly name ! shall be a false prophet, even if he were old " His speculations and cogitations were here rudely broken in upon by a violent knocking at the street door, which woke up the child and made it cry. He tried to pacify and soothe it, without effect ; the knocking continued, and if possible grew more hurried, while the child's crying became screaming : without scarcely knowing what he was about, between the two fires he found his way to the street door. CHAPTER II. THE MINT. There was a small passage between two walls which led from the door to the street, and when Woulds had succeeded in unfastening the door, in ac- complishing which he found some difficuhy from the child completely oc- cupying his left arm, holding it while it screamed and struggled most voci- ferously. The moment the door was open a man completely mufl[ied in a cloak entered. He breathed hard and rapidly as if he had been running with swift- ness for some length of time; and, from his broken ejaculations, Woulds could gather that he begged for shelter from pursuers who sought bis life. JACK SHRPPERD. 7 He unfastened his cloak and iliseovered a child in his anns. Woulds staved with surprise and exclaimed — " Good God ' you have a child there !" " 1 have" — returned the stranger — " and — ah ! a thought stinkes me — is this your house ?" •' No/' retiuned Woulds. " No matter, it must shelter me for some time ; here take my cloak," and he then threw it round Woulds ; that child of yom-s will save my hfe ; when the people who are follow ing come up, say nothing, know nothing, and, if ever we meet again, who shall I have to thanic""' 'How do you mean?" asked Woulds, as he brought the cloak round his shoulders and over iirs. Shej)perd'3 child. " What is your name ?" asked the stranger impatiently. " Anthony Woulds," was the reply. " Well, when next we meet I will repay yoiu* kindness of to-night ; the hour may arrive when I may l)e of service to you, and you will then discover that a Darwell never gave a [nomise which he left unperformed." Some shouts and the distant tread of mens' feet uow broke ujjon their ears, and the strangei-, who was habited as a gentleman, drew his sword, and rapidlv closing the door Woulds had the satisfaction of hearing it fastened, and of finding himself out- side of it, standing in the entry. He was about to kick at the door and shout for admittance, when the shoiits came so loud upon his ear, that he instinctively drew himself up and stood quiet ; in less than a minute a pistol was discharged and the bullet whistling past him, went through the door ; he unconsciously uttered an exclamation of surprise and fear, and a voice, crying " He is here ! " was followed by the utterer rushing up the passage, and seizing him by the throat. Woidds shouted out lustily as he found his breath leaving him, and struggling With all his might,roared '• I'^ou're stranglingme, you villain, you are — Murder ! — Help ;" and with a powerful lunge he threw off his assailant. The man on hearing his voice cried, " Death and hell, this is not the man ; he has es- caped us." Another of the party, all of whom had now reached the spot, threw the blaz- ing light of a torch full in the face of Woulds, and exclaimed in a rage, " So I perceive, but he mu'^t be here somewhere ; I never lost sight of him as we came up the street, until he entered here, and then I thought my bullet had over- taken him ; but see, here is an evidence that he is here somewhere, for this rascal has the cloak upon him. How did you get that garment r" he fiercely interrogated Woulds, who did not lack spirit, and answered boldly — " What's that to thee ? am I your dog — your slave — that you should nearly twist my windpipe and then expect me to answer whatever you please to ask ? don't believe it I ' Fair and softly goes far.' " " You saucy varlct, if you bandy words with me, I'll pink'youin a second," cried the stranger, and belaid hishand violently upon Woulds' shoulder. The cry of little Jack at this moment broke upon his ear. " Ah !" he shouted, " here is the whelp," and he tore off the mantle from Woulds' shoulders, and made a grasp at the child ; but Woulds thrust him hack witli some force, and dashing his heels with violent rapidity against the street door, roared out, " Mrs. Shepperd ! M^rs. Shepperd ! your child is in danger, open the door or v/e shall both lose our lives — Help— help 1" " Silence, you dog, "cried the man who had threatened to stab him. "Silence, or the next moment shall be your last ; do you hear?" he cried, as Woulds still roared out Help ! help! The first assailant of Woulds now interposed— " Hold your hand, Rolend," he exclaimed, and turning to Woulds, said — " Give up the child and you shall not be harmed, I promise you." " I'll only part with it," cried Woulds, whose blood was roused to boiling, " to her from whom I had it, and that it's mother." 8 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP " Liar," cried Roleml fiercely, " you had it from ; — ." At this juncture Mrs. Shepperd opened tlie door anil staggered out, with her face pale and haggard, while blood was streaming down from her forehead. "Itlere, Jane, take your child," cried Woulds; '• here take little Jack," he continued inii)etHously, as he observed she took no notice of the child, " I've lost the packet," said the widow abstractedly. " Damn the packet," exclaimed Woulds, " take your child," and he held it to her. She looked at it for a moment without the slightest evidence of recogni- tion, and then siuldenly a look of intelligence passed over her features, and she stretched out her arms 'to take the child, but just as she was receiving it, she was rudely thrust back by Rolend, who seized the child, and exclaimed — " Now, Sir Cuthbert, enter that house with your men, I'll take care of the child ; you are sure to find the villain there ; he could not have left the entry without our having seen him." " Follow me," cried Sir Cuthbert to his attendants, and they all entered the house but one man, whom Rolend called back by the name of Dorlish. The man returned bearing a torch in his hand. " Here, Dorlish," said Rolend, " take this brat and twist its neck." The man took the child and set down the torch ; he^ then drew from his pocket a cord, which he proceeded to pass round the child's neck, to the horror and indignation of Woulds, who turned to Mrs. She])perd, and cried — •* Do you see that, Jane? — Mrs. Shepperd— woman, are you mad, distracted — don't yon see them killing your child — Tom Shepperd's child? Hold, you monster — Help — help I" Mrs. Shepperd did not even look round but clasped her hands to her forehead, and AVoulds shouted at the top of his voice for help, and gave the peculiar call which always roused the " Mint birds," as they were termed. Rolend shouted to Woulds to keep silence, and tried to cut him down with his sword, l)ut Woulds eluded the blo\\', and springing upon Dorlish, gave him such a tremendous l)low, that the villain's head rebounded with great violence from the wall, while his eyes flashed fire. Woulds, seizing the child, and dashing past Rolend, gained the mouth of the entry, and shouted — " Help, ho — the Philistines are out ! ho — help — the ban-dogs are abroad— Mint ! mint ! help !" A long loud halloo, accompanied by the sound of a horn, answered the shouts of Woulds ; they were succeeded by others of a similar nature, and lights began to flash through the windows of the houses in the streets ; the noise of doors banging, windows opening, and the voices of the people thronging in disorder, .tilled the air with its motley sound : Rolend, when he foxmd the " Mint was tip," said to Dorlish, who was just si)ringing after Woulds, ere he had even partially recovered from the tremendous blow which he had just received, " come back, Dorlish, leave that old dog, he has roused the Minters and they will tear us to pieces if they catch us here ; let us enter the house and put Sir Cuthbert upon his guard ; these thieves and hang-dogs will destroy us without a moment's hesitation ; bring that woman with you," he concluded, as he pushed open the door and entered ; while Dorlish seizing Mrs. Shepperd, who made no resis- tance, followed. They had scarcely crossed the threshold, when they en- countered Sir Cuthbert and his ])arty, returning in a state of outrageous disap- pointment at not having discovered the object of their search. " He has given us the slip," cried Sir Cuthbert; "there is not a nook or cranny we have left nnsearched, and we cannot find him — he is not here." " Danmalion ! '' muttered Rolend, thvough his clenched teeth ; " but you cannot leave here ; that old rascal has escaped with the child, and roused the Minters ; the whole tribe of thieves and murderers will be down upon us, and murder every one here without the smallest compunction : I know tl e rogues eve to-night — we must barricaile the door." This vras done, and they stood with drawn swords, awaiting the issue of the Miuters' rousing. JACK SHEPPERD. See page 7. When Darnwell had fastened the door, he proceeded up the wretched worm-eaten stairs, following each flight as rapidly as the darkness and their craziness would permit; he reached the cop and paused for a moment; the child he bore in his arms gave a feeble cry, and immediately afterwards he heard a voice proceeding from a room, at the door of which he stood, exclaim " Is that you, iMr. Woulds ?" he did not reply, and the child's cry again rose on the air. i, j ^i, " What is the matter ?" exclaimed the voice; and footsteps approached the door which ^^•as opened, and Mrs. Shepperd stood before him. Holding up the lantern, she gave a faint scream when she saw the stranger; as the light flashed upon his countenance, she started back, and, as if she recognised a face familiar to her in other days, cried involuntardy " Gilbert ! ' Th(J stranger inhis turn started, and hurriedly seized the hand of Mrs. bhep- perd which held the lantern ; he elevated it in such a manner as enabled him to see her features clearly. • ■ i "God of Heaven!" he cried, "can it be ? "—Alice— Alice, is it thus we meet after — " Do not speak of it— do not for mercy's sake recal that time to my me- mory;" interrupted Mrs. Shepperd, "but tell me how came you here with ray child in your arms ? " • • ,> i, v. "Your child!" replied Darwell, "this child is not yours— it is —here he interrupted himself, and continued— "some other time you shall know more, it is not yours, beheve me. Look," he said, as he held the child to the light ; " this babe you see is not yours, and I am hotly pursued by those \yho seeK the life of this frail thing— and mine. I knocked at the door of this house, .and a man witn an infant, yours Alice, I suppose, opened it ; I have told him No. 2. JO THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF he mav save mv lifebv detaining the party who are in search of me; I left him in the entry :" and, " Hark !" he cried, as the sound of voices, some short distance from the house, struck upon his ears; "it is them," he muttered between his teeth " but I will elude ye yet :— Alice, can you not assist me to escape these hloodhoxinds ? Is there no secret outlet by which I can leave the house, and gain- the water-side .'—Quick— quick— j-du must aid me; my life, this child's liffe, depend upon it, and God knows if it will stay there ! — I shudder to pursue the thought. I must escape — I will — thsi'^ must be some way of getting from this den witiiout being detected. — Alice, by the miemory of " Hold, Gilbert — hold!" cried Mrs. Shepperf, with eagerness, and in deep agitation ; " Your presence reminds me too terably of what I M-ould fain fca% get; there is no need of other means to revive times ar^d things which bring me a madness -woi-se than death : but there is no time for \vords now — we may meet again, and I may then be able to tell you a tale of grief and horror, Gilbert, which you coidd not ha^-e beheved the little laughing joyoue Alice, whom j-ou knew in her hours of light and mirth, could hav« passed through, or. CT-eii have seen : — the thoughts sicken me ; I — " She was here interrupted by the shouts of the men in the street, and the voices a})peared to proceed from close beneath the window. " Now, Alice, quick, quick," urged Dai-well, impatiently, " Here, see this ladder," she cried ; " this leads to the top of the house ; proceed straight along the gutter until you come to a stack of chimnies ; pass to the left of them, and you will perceive the roof of an adjoining, house, lower than the one you will be upon ; jump on to it, and in the centre of the roof you will observe a small trap door; at the bottom edge of the left-hand cor- ner is a small knob, which press hard and firmly, and the trap door will fly down. A small ladder is there, and will assist you in getting beneath the roof; 3'ou will then find yourself in a loft, in the centre of which, upon the flooring, is a plank laid along the beams ; keep upon that ; mind, keep upon it, or you will fall through and be dashed to pieces ; follow the plank — it does not reach to the end of the roof but terminates on a beam. When you arrive at the beam, turn to the right. Keep on the beam as you value your life ; one false step will be fatal to you ! You will find, when you are at the end of the beam, an upright wall as if a part of a stack of chimnies; run your hand along the wall about four feet from your footing, and you will place it upon a ring ; pull it with all your strength, and a panel will draw aside ; enter, and you may then pass down the stairs you will meet with into the street. — Away! your pursuers are at the door." "God bless you, Alice!" cried Darwell, and pressed her hand warmly. " We shall meet again ; and perdition light upon me if I forget the signal ser- vice you have rendered me this night." "Farewell," said Mrs. Shepperd: "we shall meet again, Gilbert — ^ve must meet again— there are things I M-ish to , learn, although I dread to ask them. There are things I wish to relate, and then I can lay down and shut my eyes upon the world for ever." " It shall be so ! " exclaimed Darwell; " God be with you ! " and he darted up the ladder on to the roof, and soon reached the chimneys. He turned to the left as she had directed him, and saw the low roof of the adjoining house. He let himself down silently, and proceeded cautiously along a narrow gutter; lie arrived at the trap door— he sought the left-hand corner, and found the knob Mrs. Shepperd had mentioned, which he pressed vigorously, and the trap door Hew open hke lightning. He placed one foot on the ladder, when he heard a voice rise above the hum of the contention which had first broken upon his ears, and shout loudly and clearly — JACK SHEPPERD. U " Help ! ho ! — The Phihstines are out ! Help ! ho ! — The ban-dogs are abroad — Mint ! Mint ! Help." Darwell paused a moment as he heard the cry, and then with a btirst of joy he exclaimed " Ah ! that is the Minters' song ; hurrah ! they will soon he on the trail of the wolves. Now, God speed thee ! Anthony Woulds ; thou hast done me good service, and it shall go hard but I will repay thee. I must make the most of my time — softly, steadily ;" and he proceeded carefully down the ladder. He then discovered himself in total darkness, but he felt his path with his foot and met with the plank as he had been directed ; he passed along it, and he found it terminate so suddenly that he barely saved himself from stepping beyond it ; he then turned to the right and reached the wall, he passed his hand along it, and laid hold of the ring which* he pulled with right good will, a panel darted aside, and showed him an opening, which he passed through ; as he let go the ring the panel flew back to its original position. " That's an admirable contrivance," thought Darwell, as he proceeded on his way. That very thought had an influence upon the circumstances connected with his escape, because he passed the flight of stairs down which he should have gone, and walking along a sort of corridor on a small scale, he found a ladder leading to a roof, but no stairs leading to the street, "This is strange," thought Darwell ; '"' but I suppose Alice forgot in her hurry to tell me of this last — for I hope it is the last place I am to pass through, at least, of this sort. However, there is no time for deliberation, so here goes ;" and Darwell mounted the ladder. The cold air blew in his face as he again reached the top of the house, and for a moment he hesitated which way to turn, but at length he passed rapidly through his mind the side he had turned to come up the ladder at the end of the corridor, ""and passed on, ieaviag Mrs. Shepperd's house behind him. He was rather startled to seethe streets bril- liantly illuminated with torches, and he heard the sound of voices and horns rousing the Minters to action. He looked over the parapet into the street, and shuddered as he saw the mob of wretches running along, some half-dressed, some, whose whole dress was less than half a decent person's, some well attired, and by far the greater proportion in rags. Along they raced, yeUing, screaming, blowing horns which produced a villanous bray, and acting like so many devils and imps upon the night of a witches' feast in the Brocken. Many bore blazing links,others lanterns ; some had bludgeons, and not a few had weapons of a more formidable description ; for they bore cutlasses, rusty swords, half-pikes, car- bines, and pistols ; and, what was more alarming, with every intention of using them for the purpose for which they were invented and made — the de- struction of human life. Darwell saw this assemblage of fearful beings with anxiety and apprehension ; and, notwithstanding the bitterness of his resent- ment against his pursuers, he felt his blood turn cold as he pictured to his imagination what might be their fate. This reflection brought the necessity of his own flight strongly before him, and he pursued his path along the house tops for some distance, searching in vain for an opening by which he might descend ; and as he passed from house to house he became more and more convinced that he had mistaken his road. He recollected the directions Mrs. Shepperd had given him, and the manner in which he had followed them ; and the thought struck him that he should not have passed along that corridor. He had no time to lose : decision, in cases of danger, is half towards surmounting them. He was therefore about to turn back, at all hazards, to the place at which Mrs. Shepperd had directed him to pass down the stairs into the street. When he placed his hand against the tiles, as he thought, to assist him in turning round, he found to] his surprise that it was a small slanting window. His eyes had become by this time familiar to the darkness, and he could discern objects more clearly than when he mounted the first roof. He j2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF tried the window, and found it fastened ; he drew off his glove, and took from his fin'rer a diamond ring. With this he cut through one of the small panes close by the latch, and the pieces fell on to the floor of the attic without making much noise ; he then restored his ring to his finger, put on his glove, and passing his hand through the opening he had made, unlatched the win- dow. He ifstened attentively to hear if any inmate had been disturbed by his approach, but as no sound met his ears but the clamour of the Mint birds in the street, he prepared to descend into the room. It seemed a longer distance to the floor than he could reach with his hands extended, and he speculated upon the manner in which he was to accomplish his entry into the room ; but he was not long in determining upon it. He seated himself upon the slanting roof, and placing the child upon his knees, he drew from about his neck a long shawl, with which it was encircled, as much for the purpose of hiding his face as of warmth ; he made a broad band of it, and passing it carefully once round the child, he drew it over the right -shoulder, passed it under his left-arm, and tied it firmly behind him. Having completed this feat, he pro- ceeded to get through the opening, which, with the child at his breast, he ac- complished in safety. He soon found the room door, which was open, and proceeded slowly and quietly down stairs ; but to his alarm he saw the door of a room, which was at the foot of the stairs he was descending, open, and a female seated at needle-work ; a candle, which threw a strong light around, stood upon the table; and Darwell saw, with much apprehension, that he could not pass without being observed by the female before him ; and he feared coming suddenly upon her, as she might be frightened, set off scream- ing, and bring upon him a set of persons whom he had no desire to meet with. He stood on the stairs in a state of great perplexity, and he saw the girl look around her uneasilj^, as though something had transpired to disturb her tran- quillity. She appeared listening and half-frightened, as young ladies do when they imagine there are " thieves in the house," or when some awful monster of a ghost has done them the favour of a nocturnal visit. She coughed, and moved her chair, then hummed a tune, until at last she burst out into a song — " Oh, 'twas on a May morning, in the spring of the year, The green trees were all bonny, and the blue sky was clear ; The cool waters were sparkling, and I cried — "Good God!" exdaimed the girl, interrupting herself, " what's that !" She had heard Darwell descend two stairs, and half mutter an oath at them for " creaking, crazy, rotten wretches." She listened with intense earnestness, but Darwell stood as still as death, and the maiden went on with her song — " The cool waters were sparkling, and I cried with delight " — " Lord have mercy upon us ! there is somebody there i" and so there was, for the shouts of the Minters seemed to increase, and with it the anxiety of Dar- well ; he descended the remainder of the stairs, and stood before the as- tonished girl, who, luckily for him, was bereft of speech with surprise and fear. " Do not be alarmed, my good girl," cried Darwell, " I do not mean to harm you. Listen, I am pursued to the death ; my life and that of this child de- pend upon my escape. I merely wish to gain the street, and seek the nearest way to St. Mary Overy's, where I have a boat waiting for me." Ihe girl stared a! :iim as if unconscious of what he had said to her ; but when he showed her the child, which in the urgency of his appeal he had done, she somewhat recovered, and Darwell repeated his words. She pointed to the stairs, gave lum directions how to gain the water side, the pass word of the Mmt, and in another minute she was alone. JACK SHEPPERD. U " I knew there was somebody there," said the girl, and sat down again to her work. It may perhaps be as well to oflfer to our readers a few observations upon, the Mint and its privileges. The ground which bore the name of the Mint, at the period of which we write, was, about three hundred years since, the site of the mansion and groimds of the accomplished Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk : and the house which bore the name of Suffolk House, was converted by Henry the Eighth to a mint ; it was afterwards demolished, but it still re- tained the appellation, although all the coining was performed at the Tower subsequently ; and if the reader will take the trouble to turn down by the side of St. George's church. Borough, High-street, Southwark, a very few minutes will take him into the heart of the neighbourhood of which we are speaking. Those persons who have read the " Fortunes of Nigel," will remember Sir Walter Scott's able description of " Alsatia, the Sanctuary of Whitefriars ; " the resort, in the time of James I, of cutthroats, cutpurses, debtors, swin- dlers, housebreakers, and felons of all descriptions. Such a place was the Mint in the borough of Southwark ; a community of vagabonds — a society for self-protection against one common enemy — the law. They were under the domination of a master, who had his officers appointed under him, and ■who enjoyed pecuHar privileges and immunities : they had certain offices to perform, and a system was made and followed with a precision, which, had the motive been good, would have been highly praiseworthy. If any unfor- tunate officer (we mean belonging to the sheriff) showed his face without due precaution, he was treated to a toss in a blanket after having been well pumped upon, which was washing and then drying him ; but there were many other punishments for this class of officers, of Government servants, and even refractory members, which were summary in their infliction, and but too often terrible in their punishment. The Mint-master granted a pass to all who petitioned for one, and showed good grounds for requiring its power ; and wo to him who had passed the precints of the Mint without one . They werd strict and speedy in their punishment of any infringement ; and as of late sheriffs' officers had made incursions in bodies, and succeeded in capturing several who had claimed and were entitled from their uncommon rascaHty to the immunities and pri\-ileges of the place, and as Alsatia and the precints of the Savoy had totally lost their power, the members of the Mint found it ne- cessary to strengthen their sanctuarj' by every means in their power. Scouts were placed at all hours at the principal outlets, and the smaller streets and alleys had iron bars and gates, which could be closed at a moment's notice. There was the fortress in which the Mint-master dwelt, which was almost sur- rounded by a series of deep ditches — at least at the most exposed parts of it j there was the maze too, to which all who had the right of entry to the Island of Bermuda, as the Mint was termed, had a clue, and was so admirably con- trived that none but those who possessed a good knowlege of it could find their way through its intricacies ; in fact nothing was left uncontrived, or un^^ done, which could add to their security, or enable them to maintain their sanctuary to the last. Woulds, who had continued shouting, had the satisfaction of seeing very shortly a quantity of people issue from different houses, and various turnings which he could not see, nor did not even think of trying, come running along with lights and weapons in their hands, shouting, yeUing, and bawling in the most frantic manner, half-dressed ; undressed, and some in the most grotesque costume which could be well conceived; on they came in an uproar of tha most monstrous nature, kicking up such a din as would split any moderate person's ears. " Hollo !" shouted Woulds, as they neared him. 14 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Heyoi !" was fhe response of the foremost ; another minute and Woalds was surrounded by a party of as complete ruffians as could well be met with, ^"'^Now,'my Trojan," said the nearest of the gentry to Woulds, " Now, my kiddy, wots the go, that you are making all this shindy about, and tipping the office to the Minters, eh ? " " Is it the traps r " asked another. "Who?" inquired Woulds. " The pigs ! " replied a lady who was of the party, and appeared a degraded descendant of the lady who was wedded to Socrates. Woulds turned from her with anything but a satisfied expression upon his features, and, as the yells of the people who kept arriving burst upon his ears, he almost felt sorry that he had called this mob of fearful beings into action. "Down with the traps! queer the nabsmen! toko for tho ban-dogs!" were being shouted around the almost stunned carpenter, who felt rather un- pleasantly situated. " Come, my rum'un," continued the first speaker, " wots the row ? have you been cracking a crib, faking a che, pinching, picking, or on the high toby gloque, eh ? " Woulds did not appear to understand a sentence of the speech the last speaker had addressed to him, and who revelled in the name of Skyblue, from having been at one period a milkman. " Cut away, my tyke; don't stand like a dummy; let loose your red rag," continued Skyblue, " or you'll find your box of ivories won't keep it safe in your mazzard !" " I don't know what you mean," retorted Woulds. " Wot ! " roared Skyblue. " He says he aint down to you," said one of the gents of the party. " No, he aint fly to the lingo," suggested the lady we have mentioned just now. " Can't you patter St. Giles's Greek ? " cried Skyblue. " Why, where was you foaled, and where's the trap you were giving leg bail and Mint sauce to, eh r" Why were we all turned out, eh ? " " Ah !" roared the mob, flomishing their weapons, and giving an inci- dental yell — *' If you will bring me to some one I can understand," said Woulds, " I will tell him ; but as I do not know what you are talking about, you can't expect me to answer." " Wliy you're the queerest cull that ever padded the hoof in crab-shells," replied Skyblue. " Not awake to my patter ? why there aint a cove, cull, or bloak in the Island as aint up to every mag I chirrup." " Send for Jonathan Wild!" exclaimed a tall, raw-boned, ragged-looking ragamuffin, with a villanously sinister aspect. He was styled " Monument Bogle," or, as the gentry around him and his personal friends called him, '• Monement Boggle;" we presume from his height and ugliness, two qua- lities which he possessed in the extreme. " Send for Jonathan Wild," continued Mr. Monement Boggle, " he's as down as a hammer, and can patter King's English hke a fiew'un. " Jonathan Wild ! Jonathan Wild !" yelled the mob, and two or three of the party decamped in search of him. '• Oh, that's you, Mr, Monement Boggle," said Skyblue, in rather a nnea- sured and, indeed, a haughty tone, " that's you is it r" " Jonathan Wild is my pall, and an out-and-out trump ; he's fly to every move on the board, but there are other coves as good chaffcutters as him, and no gammon ; I suppose i JACK SHEPPERD. 15 He was here interrupted by a loud hurrah from the mob, part of whom gave a\'.'ay, and a man forced his way through and placed himself opposite Woulds ; the mob immediately pressed round him, but he pushed some of them back, and told the rest to keep clear a bit while he saw " what was o'clock ;" using of course the last expression as a figure for ascertaining the cause of the disturbance, " Now, Sir," he said to Woulds, ''why has the Island of Bermuda been favoured with your commands? "Why have the Minters been called out? were the bailiffs at your heels ? or the Robin Redbreasts at your shoulders ? Woulds gazed upon the man before him, and almost shrunk from the cunning sharp look which he encountered from the small, yet long grey eyes of Jonathan Wild, whose sharp nose, low brow, thin face, and peculiar cold smile of his thin lips, yet wide mouth, made him appear the incarnation of craftiness, depth, and deceit. *' Why do you not answer ; have you lost your tongue, man ?" continued Jonathan ; " are you in debt, been pursued by officers, and come to claim the privileges of the Mint ?" " No," replied Woulds, " I owe no man a sixpence which I cannot pay him twice over ; that was not the reason, " What then ?" roared Jonathan. " Are we to be dragged out of bed and kept here in the cold by you, and be told what was not the 'cause. What was the cause r and, if you value a safe skin, out with it quickly ?" "To save this infant from being murdered," retorted Woulds. " To do what ?" hallooed Skyblue, " There is a party of people in that house who would have killed this child if I had not used the means I have to prevent it," replied \Youlds, *' And so the whole community are to be upset and disturbed because a brat squalls, and somebody wanted to stop its clatter," cried Jonathan. And the mob gave a roar of indignation, with sundry remarks, respecting the justice of Lynch law being applied to Mr, Woulds. " Well, curse me," cried Skyblue, "if that is'nt about as cool a move as ever I clapped my ogles on ; it's to be, ' Out Mint !' because the nubbing chit is being choused out of a kinchin !" " Whose child was it ? and where is it r" questioned Jonathan Wild. " The babby is here," replied Woulds, " and the child is the child of one who you ought' nt to turn your backs on. If you will hear me quietly I will tell you all, for it's a very queer affair." " Who's concerned in't ?" asked Jonathan in rather an undertone. " Why, they appear men of rank by their garb and attendants," answered W^oulds. " Oh !" exclaimed Jonathan thoughtfully. " Let's look at the kid," cried Skyblue, and snatched it out of the arms of Woulds, who was about to seize him, to endeavour to recover the child, when Jonathan laid hold of his hand, and said, "Hold! he will not hurt it— Sky- blue, take care of the kidwy. Now step aside and tell me — back, palls, while I learn the meaning of this shindy ; and then I'll lay it before the Mintmaster, and your worthy selves, in the flashing of a barking iron," He then dragged Woulds to a short distance; while Skyblue tossed the child in the air, and, because the poor weak thing cried, he shook it violently, and told it to " stow its mag or he would be down upon its luck." As he was concluding this ele- gant speech, he felt his coat pulled rather forcibly by the sleeve, and turning round, he saw the form of a female, enveloped in a mantle, while her face was hidden by a mask, and by a large hood which was thrown over her head. Little could be distinguished of her form, nothing of her features, yet no one could have stood in her presence without feeling conscious of the beauty of jg THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF both • and when she spoke, the clear rich tones of her voice, like those of a silver' bell, startled even the rascal Skyblue; for, in answer to her query of whose child it was which he held in his arms, he softened his voice as he re- plied that " it was a bantUng, which a daddy cull had nabbed from scrag- ging." 1 1 1 q '• Give it to me, I implore you ?" cried the iady. " To you, my dossy doxy; what for ?" inquired Skyblue. " I will give you money, all the money I have about me— here, see ;" and she placed a purse i a his right-hand, while he held the child in the left; he looked at the purse, and, shaking it, said " How much is there in it ? " It is all gold," said the lady ; " let me, I entreat you, see the child; and she wrung her hands imploringly. . , o, , , .. tt „ j "Oh, certainly, my dear, you can see the kid;" said Skyblue, "Here, and ne placed the child in her arms, as she eagerly stretched them to receive it. " Let me look at the chink," cried Skyblue ; " upon my soul this is a sHce of iuck ; these shiners look pretty, and this ring, all of the real wedge, and the sparklers— no sham Abram. My dear!— Damnation, where's the moll!" But the female had vanished with the child, and Skyblue looked in vain for Ker. CHAPTER HI. QUEER CHARACTERS AND aUEERER OCCURRENCES. " Well !" exclaimed Jonathan Wild, " you must tell to the Mintmaster, who I can hear is approaching, what you have just told me ; he must decide in the affair; you are sure that he who entered the house first was a gentleman ?" " As far as his dress is concerned," replied Woulds, " he appeared to be one ; but I don't think there was anything very gentlemanly in his blocking me out of the house, and exposing my life to a set of hot-headed rapscallions, who, not having the fear of God before their eyes, would have violated the sixth com- mandment, and sent me and the baby" "To kingdom come before your time," interrupted Jonathan Wild. "Are you positive that the man did not change the young'uns ? By-the-by that's a good thought. Skyblue — Ay, Skyblue, where's the babby ? Here, give it me." Skyblue replied with great coolness, " I aint got it !" "Not got it," echoed Wild, with some asperity; "not got it! where is it?" " How should I know ? I aint Won Gewesen," answered Skyblue, saucily ; " Its mizzled." " But you had it," retorted Wild; " and if you don't tell me what you did with it right slap at once, I'U make your domino box rattle to a tune as will give you the toothache for a month to come ! " Skyblue knew very well that Jonathan Wild was long in the arm, and strong in the wrist and knuckles; he also knew that when he made a promise of that nature he redeemed it fully. Skyblue did not want for strength or courage, nor a sort of prudence — Jonathan Wild had better science than himself; he was longer in the reach, taller, more nimble; he also possessed more power and influence in the community at this present standing, than Skyblue could ever hope to attain. In short, the cogitator was thoroughly convinced that Jonathan Wild could thrash him soundly, and so represent it to his co-mates that he would become the subject of jeers and jokes to every ragged ruffian the Mint owned as an inhabitant. Skyblue's re- flection occupied him a much less time than we have taken to describe it, and he replied with a little more civility — JACK SHEPPljlRD. Escape of Darirr-JI. " Yo.i are rather too fast. Master Jonathan. I know I had the kinchin, hut ha' feked a kinchin's wipe from a whackmp cly " Whirh wav did she go?" roared Jonathan Wild. ^. KchTlYstms downed to lose its h^.t^isn^^^^^^^^ at the same time repeated the question of Wild to bkyblue, W hicn way a ^'" S>s what «ives me the go-by ;" replied Skyblue -\« f -jft it best upofhe ks ctnTs a hammer ; but here comes the --ter and h.s mates. If the Dutchman is with him, he'll put you fly to the who e ^^"J^ • A roar of a stunning' nature— a compound of yells, screeches, nurrans. blotmrof Lrnt;vh,sriin,, clattering of bit. of iron on tm l-ts-an7une^^^^^ the approach of the Mint-master and h,s oftcers ; ^^^^^l^^' "f; fr.;^^ X. it was^^ The costume was of that diversified and ^^^f «:>[ "^J^^ ^^^^J^.J^^^o; description. No person who possessed the most ^-^"^"te ^j'^^f^^ f ,"/,^^dr^ decency of habiliments was necessary to rise beyond the 7'"^^;' ^J'";'^^ the cleLsing of streets, or chimneys, would have '^^^^^^^^iV^iZ/Sa ch m apparel of nine-tenths of the procession which ^'^^^^^^f;" ^^^ '^^^^'"Xh had his nocturnal perambulation to investigate the reason of the up. oar, wmcQ taksn place without any apparent cause for it. No. 3. 18 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF First and foremost came a party of about ten of the raggedest rascals that ever stepped, to clear the way ; they looked as though it was ever their occupa- tion, for they were a oiass of filth and dirt in skin and flesh, and bundles of rotten rags in dress; they were in high spirits, that is to say, they were half mad with excessive drink. They roared, hallooed, screamed, shouted, and jumped about, in a way sufficient to " fright the isle from its propriety ;" they bore thick cudgels in their hands, which they flourished in the most ex- travagant manner, occasionally bestowing friendly taps upon some unfortunate wight who did not clear out of their path with the rapidity they thought due to their honour and dignity : friendly taps they might have been, but an unpre- judiced observer would have been tempted to deem them vastly Mratriendly, if he had witnessed the leap the recipients gave as they received them, heard the sound, and seen the expression of agony with which the affected part was rubbed. On came the raggamuffins, closely followed by the officers pertaining ^« the state and dignity of the Mint master. These gentlemen v.-ere adminis- trators of the Mint-master's awards, the executors of his punishments, the Jack Ketchs — for in their occupation they even proceeded to that extremity — of the Mint. After them, and sun-ounded by a body of personal friends, came the Mintmaster. It would require something very graphic to describe him with truth and precision. In the absence of such a power, the best effort shall be made to place him before the reader. In height, he was about five feet eight inches; when a younger man he might have been ta'.ler, but a rotundity of stomach, of unhealthy appearance, rather took from his height His legs were thin and wasted ; they were encased in stockings which fitted them tightly, smd disappeared beneath a kind ot frock or long tunic, which he wore upon his body ; his feet boasted of divelling in a capacious pair of boots, of the Spanish fashion of the seventeenth century ; they fitted his feet and ancles pretty closely, but were wide and large as they reached the spot where the calves had been wont to dwell, giving to his nether hmbs a skinnyness which contrasted strongly and ludicrously with his large stomach. Round his waist he wore a belt, from which depended a huge sword, upon his head an article partaking of hat, cap, and souuti ing of a crown. It possessed a feather, which drooped much from old age and decrepitude, and was placed on the side of his head, with an affected attempt ot style, but was what might be termed a miserable failure. His face presented tiie appearance of having once been handsome — but it was but a reminiscence, and that a de- generated one. His eyes, which once had been full and fine, were now half- closed, and possessed that unsteady twinkle wnich habitual drunkenness pro- duces. His nose, which had been a well-formed aquiline, was now a bright red, and approaching the shape of a pestle ; while his mouth had the half-open, sottish appearance of eternal swilhng and guzzling — for those are the only words which can give the idea of the animal look his thick red lips presented. His face told that he was originally better situated, and that he had once pos- sessed capabihties which would have fitted him for a high station in society. There was a peculiar expression which even marks of constant intoxica tion could not eradicate, and impressed upon the beholder a feeling that the being before him told a tale of misguided conduct, and bright opportunities wasted. By his side walked a person, the singularity of whose costume proclaimed him somewhat removed in every v/ay from the beings around him, in point of custom, costume, and language. He wore a tunic which reached to his knees, and was decorated with stars, suns, moons, and hieroglyphics worked in gold, his legs were adorned with full trousers of the Turkish cut, but it would be hazarding too much to name their original colour. They were, at the time we describe, of that neutral tmt, which great age and considerable dirtiness be- stows. A sash, broad and long, for it was folded several times, graced the waist JACK SHEPPERD. 19 of this personage. On his head he wore a close skuU cap, profusely decorated with brass ornaments, which increased much in their size as they reached the nape of his neck. His face was a study; it is almost a pity that Retsch the extraordinary illustrator of Goethe's Faust, did not see him ; he woidd have furnished the features of Mephistophiles to a turn; there would have been no need of adding or diminishing, for the features presented a perfect personihca- tion of the demon. The eyes were apparently dark -not from colour, for they were originally blue-but from expression, and from a restless tvvinkle-a dartincr from corner to corner, and at times an unearthly flashing, whicn pre- vented their real colour being seen. There was a keenness a inalignant and searching character m the glances, which made ii unconitortable for the person subjected to their glare. Hi-s eyebrows were thick and shaggy ; his nose broad, and prominent; thick hps, and the lo.'er part of his face was covered with a thick beard. A long pipe seemed to grow out of his mouth and rest in his le t hand ; it seemed to gro^v, because meet him when and where you would what- ever the time and place, there was the pipe in the same position, while his lips occasionally projected a volume of smoke, but it was only occasionally, and apparently for the purpose of keeping the tobacco lighted; the smoke being usually swallowed, and affording a gratification which those persons who have not attained that perfection can have no reasonable idea of. King James s "Counterblast to Tobacco," had no influence on this queer- looking heing; it appeared to be unto him a sort of spiritual essence, from which he drew all the imaginative portion of his being, and better than three- fourths of his existence. This creature was Meinheer Von Gewesen, the fortune-teller, the cunning man who could foretel destinies, cast nativities, give good fortunes and bitter por- tions, who sold luck to the highest bidder, and was fortunate enough to have a happy coincidence with two or three of his prophecies, m which his words were accomplished, and his fame increased. In the height of his success he flew at higher gams, and missed his mark; he made some strange prophecies respecting the King, and he was shown to Newgate ^or high-treason; he then thought it time to practise on the credulity of the ignorant criminals by whom he was surrounded. He had the faculty strongly of suiting himself to circumstances, and possessed also great observation. This power was necessary to his occupation; and he, therefore, under the appearance of great apathy, exercised it with all the sharpness and perception with which he was gitted. He spoke but little, and that little was uttered with a sort of mysterious inuendo, conveying a species of double-meaning to whatever he said; a species of phable language which would suit any circumstances, and was applicable to all con- tingencies ; to which the hearers ne\-er failed to apply it. Ihe love ot the marvellous is so predominant in ignorant and uninformed niinds, tnat they will even go out of their road considerably to make a marvel of an accident. This was a fact in which Von Gewesen had had considerable experience, and he did not fail to make the most of it. The Mint-master, as they walked to- gether, made a variety of observations, to which he received in answer a nod, or shake of the head, as the conjuror desired to express assent or dissent; sometimes, when the remark was of a more important nature, a grunt, embJe- matical of an affimative, was uttered, and the apathetic silence waa resumed. They now reached the spot where Jonathan Wild was holdmg the colloquy with Skyblue and Woulds ; and as these three persons appeared co be, as in- deed they were, the principals in the mob which the Mint-master and his party came up to, they were the persons to whom the Mint-master, alter coin- manding the officers to obtain silence, addressed himself; and, inq^"""^ ^^e cause of the disturbance, he immediately recognised Jonathan VV ild, and re- quested him to relate the occurrence, which had brought him and his people 50 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF from their "festive board;" which was but a term for riot, drunkenness, and debauchery, of the lowest and vilest description* Jonathan made him a low bow, and snid — " Most High and Mighty Masterof the Island of Bermuda, King of theMint, and Moiiaich of the Clink, governor over the rights and happiness of the free mdependent Winters, here is a man, a stranger to us and to our laws, who has called upon the community for assistance, for the purpose of saving his own life and that of a child, who were about being destroyed by a party of men, ercr.iachers ujion the sanctity of the Mint, for some particular motive ; and upon timely assistance being afforded to this man, they decamped into that house which was lately inhabited by that drunken cobler, Peter (Jrauves, but now in the possession of Mrs. Shepperd, the wife of Tom Shepperd, who re- cently lost his life in an untimely manner, through an ungracious interference of Government. This is all I know of the matter, most worthy master; and this man can without doubt make you further acquainted with whatever else he may know, or you may desire to learn." " Well spoken, Jonathan Wild," returned the Mint-magter, who had his fikin full of hquor; "well sjioken — quite an orator. Cicero could not have f,\ul it better, or more to the purpose ; eh, Gewesen ?" Gewesen nodded affirmatively. " Well," continued the master of the Mint; " they have taken refuge there, have they ? But," added he, turning to Woulds, " how came you here — whose child had you — and why were you attacked ?" " I came to see Mrs. Shepperd :" replied Woulds. " She placed the child in my arms while she went to fetch something which poor Tom requested to be given to me; and while she was gone, a knocking came at the door. I went with the child, which Mrs. Shepperd had asked me to hold, and I was attacked by a party of men, who are now in that house. I called lustily for help, and my life was saved by the arrival of the Minters." " But," returned the Mint-master, "our worthy friend, Jonathan Wild, tells us that the child was in danger. You do not mention that circumstance." " In danger !" echoed Woulds ; " Why a yellow-visaged rascal, by the direction of a greater scoundrel ihan himself, was about to strangle the child with a piece of cord. " For what ?" inquired the Mint master. " That's what I wanted to know," replied Woulds. " There's something strange in all this. We must investigate it fnrther* said the Mint-master; and turning to the conjuror, he added — " What say you, Gewesen ?" " Ja !" uttered the German. '^ Is the party still in that house ?" asked the Mint-master of Woulds. ^ "/i'hey have had no opportunity of leaving it," said Jonathan Wild. " They entered just as we came up to the spot. They have fastened the door and refuse admittance, which has been demanded of them. ■" Have they been summoned in the name of .ue Mint-master?" inquired that worthy personage. " No," responded Jonathan Wild. " Then we will proceed and do it." replied his interrogator. Accordingly, the Mint-master and his train, accompanied bv Jonathan Wild and Woulds, went up to the door ; several of the people Knocked violently, and one of the officers shouted in a loud voice — «r" ?P^" ' °P^" ' *° *^^ ^'^'^^ ^"^ Mighty Masii;t of the Island of Bermuda. \y e demand entry in the name of the King of the Mint and Clink, and fail not to obey this at your peril !" JACK SHEPPERD. 21 " Hurrah !" shouted the multitude. But no answer was returned, and the knocking was repeated with the same demand ; still no answer was made. " What is to be done ?" asked the Mint-master, half in a sohloquy, and partly to Gewesen. *' Pieak town te toor," muttered Gewesen. " Break down the door ;" responded the high and mighty ; " a good resolve." " Break down the door," roared the people ; and he had the satisfaction of hearing a loud hurrah, a- crash, and another shout, which told of the accom- plishment of his command. Pell mell in rushed the Minters, and sought the room which held Rolend, Sir Cuthbert, and his attendants. The discovery that would ensue was not of that importance to Wild that he cared to accompany tbeni into the room; he, therefore, left them, and run up tiie stairs to search for Darwell. He considered, from what he could gather from Woulds, in their short colloquy, that, if any gain was to be obtained, it must come through the possession of a knowlege respecting Darwell, for he justly con- sidered that the circumstances must be of an important and startliiig nature which could produce so deadly a pursuit — a pursuit which appeared in its object to en- volve the death of two human beings. Probably the mfant was the offspring of the man who bore it, and the party who pursued him men of wealth, and interested in their destruction. Jonathan Wild's object therefore would — as it had nothing but interest in view — be to obtain possession of the hiding-place of Darwell, or at least a clue to hia escape ; and then treat with his pursurers respecting his capture. He rapidly concocted his plan ; and as, with him, to resolve was to act he was on the track of Darwell as soon as he conceived it; and he looked hastily through the different rooms as he reached the different floors, without meeting him. He did not expect it — but still he would not throw a chance away. He entered the room at the door of which Mrs. Shepperd had encoun- tered Darwell. He saw a large chest overturned upon the floor — a glance told him it did not conceal the person he was in search of, and he proceeded with the intention of mounting the roof. Just as he reached the door for the accomplishment of his intention, he kicked some small object udth his foot. He picked it up, and it felt like some small packet carefully tied up, but he had not time to look at it ; and thrusting it into his pocket, he mounted the roof ; and as he knew the secret manner of escape, as well as Mrs. Shepperd, (for he had known Peter Grauves well, and the latter had a pleasure in showing his very particular friends how ingenious and clever he was), he concluded that he had escaped by those mean •, especially as he found the trap-door in the centre of the roof, tiirough which Darwell had passed, down ; the latter never thmking to close it after passing down the ladder. Jonathan travelled the path which Darwell had taken, and with great rapidity ; for he knew it well ; he pulled the ring which commanded the panel already spoken of, and ran down the staire which were almost at his leet. It Darwell had not missed them, nothing could have prevented Jonathan Wild overtaking him ; but, as we said before, a mere thought had an influence upon his escape. Jonathan raced down the stairs to the street door — it was fastened inside ; it was, therefore impossible that Darwell could have escaped that way. He retraced his steps, and searched every room in the house, which was empty; and he again reached the spot by which he had just entered. He felt rather puzzled, for he was convinced that Darwell had come that way, but felt at a loss to discover how he had obtained the knowledge of the secret, and by what means he had contrived to elude dis- covery. Whde thus occupied in reflection he heard the slamming of a door, evidently caused by the wind. It sounded but a short distance from him — a light broke in upon him — " Ha," thought he, " this is the road he has taken ;" 2-2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF and in another minute he was on the roof of the house, following the foot- steps of Darnwell. He passed along the several roofs, scrutinizing with a sharp eye every place which presented a means of concealment, or a mode of escape. He was not long ere he was at the window which the fugitive had opened in the way already described. To jump through into the room, and proceed down the stairs, was'but the work of a moment t;) Jonathan Wild; and before the girl, who sat at needle-work when Darwell came down the stairs, had recovered herself from his sudden and unlooked-for visit, Jonathan Wild stood before her. She gave a faint scream, and retreated to the end of the room; but Jona- than, vv^io recognised her, followed her and said, in the quietest and softest tone he could assume — " Don't be frightened, Mabel, lassie, 'tis only Jonathan Wild." " And what do you want here, coming in in this way r" demanded Mabel. " A man v.'ith a child in his arms has just passed through this house, my girl ; which way has he gone, or where is he ?" asked Jonathan. " How should 1 know," retorted the girl. " You'll frighten me out of my senses between you, that you will." " Then he has been here," exclaimed Jonathan, with rapidity. " Tell me where is he ?" " I don't know," replied Mabel ; " I can't tell. I wish you would go away. I am terrified at this place and the people in it." " But he has stolen a child — it is Mrs. Shepperd's child; and I am seeking him, in order to restore it to her. She is half distracted about it," urged Jonathan, who thought, with much shrewdness, that by working upon the girl's feelings he should obtain the desired information. " That Mrs. Shepperd's child ; and he stolen it r" exclaimed Mabel. " Yes !" responded Wild. " Then I will teU you. But he told me he was pursued to the death, and that his life and the child's were in danger," said Mabel. " All lies." replied Jonathan, impatiently. " i don't know," replied the girl; "he did'nt look as if he told lies; and what is all that horrid noise in the street ?" " Why the Minters have got scent of the robbery, and they are after him ; but tell me where he is, or what has become of him. This is all waste of time." Jonathan Wild was growing vastly out of patience. " And, if they catch him, will they murder him ?" asked the girl, shudder- ingly. " Oh ! I wish I had not come here. These last four days have been worse than tour years to me. "Ah ! you'll soun be used to it, my dear, if you stay here a little longer," replied Jonathan, who saw his only chance was to worm his intelligence from Mabel. " Come," he continued, '' he went out at the street door and — " " To St. Mary Overy's, where he has a boat waiting for liiin." said Mabel ; and she told to Jonathan the path she had directed to Darwell, as well as havmg given him the pass-word of the Mint. " Now," cried Jonathan, " if he is to be had, there is not a moment to be lost; and, my pretty Mabel, if you would keep people Irom coming into the house by any other entrance than the street door, put shutters to the windows m the roof of your house. Good night, my dear; don't flurry yourself; I shall 6ee you m the mornmg; and as I came in so will I go out." l?^u!?:"'^^^'" ^f^-'J ^^^l?,l!"*' ^? she locked her room door; placed the tableand .>,„^, ........ Ill , -^ , . ... 'am sure you some chairs against it. "Thank God, you're gone. As to a thief, look more like a thief than the one you're after. I sha'nt go to bed to-night, that 1 am sure of. I wonder who is to come next. If I stop here I shall die of tnght, 1 k!>ow I shall." And with this comfortable reflection, Mabel seated JACK SHEPPERD. 23 herself, and prepared to pass the remainder of the night with anything but comfortable feelings. Jonathan Wild retracted his steps mth great facility, he found it easier to return the road he came than he did to pursue it, which would be a mighty pleasant thing in life to do, when we have travelled a wrong path. He soon gained Mrs. Shepperd's residence, and by the raising of voices, and an univer- sal clamour, he could tell that there was some violent commotion taking place ; and he proceeded to join it in order to apply, as lucratively as chance would permit, the information he had already obtamed. Ere he had descended to the first flight of stairs, he encountered Mrs. Shepperd, who cried out as soon as she saw him — " Jonathan Wild, you have my child — give it to me I entreat of you." " I hav'nt got it ;" paid Jonathan, " cor ever had it, Mrs. Shepperd." " 'Tis false ! you have murdered it, I know it, Mr. Woulds told me — but I will know where it is — tell me, Jonathan Wild, or fear a mother's frenzy ;" cried Mrs. Shepperd, and she seized Jonathan Wild fiercely, by the collar and neckcloth, v/ith both hands. " I have not got it — I never saw it," cried he, strugghng to disengage him- s-elf. " If Woulds says I had it, he is a liar — he knows it — I did not have it. Skyblue took it out of his hands, and said he gave it to some woman. Let me go ! xVIrs. Shepperd. You know that for Tom Shepperd's sake I would'nt harm a hair of your babby's head." " Skyblue!'' echoed Mrs. Shepperd, taking her hands from Wild's neckcloth and pressing them to her temples ; " Skyblue ? who is Skyblue ? Where is he ? what has he done with my child ? He has killed it, and you will not tell me so ; it is dead, lost to me for ever." And she burst into a passionate flood of tears. At this moment the door of the room above them opened, and a child's feeble cry was heard by Mrs. Shepperd and Jonathan Wild. The bound of the antelope, when scared by the hunter's shot, was not more speedy than Mrs. Shepperd darted up the stairs into the room from which the sound proceeded, Jonathan Wild followed, and they discovered a female cowering in a corner of the room to which she had retreated, upon hearing their sudden approach. " That is my child you have there !" exclaimed Mr. Shepperd, and advanced to seize it. " Indeed !" cried the female, who was the same that had obtained the child from Skyblue. " Indeed it is not — it is mine — my husband, who has been pursued by those who seek its death and his destruction, gave it into the charge of a man, who escaped into this house. I know I speak the truth — I fol- lowed, and watched — I saw all that occurred — I saw ray child seized again by a ruffian, and gave him a purse of gold to restore it to me. It is mine; for the love of Heaven do not tear it from me. If you are a mother, if you can imagine the agony of losing the dearest tie your heart acknowledges, do not make me sutFer it, by taking my dear dear babe from me." " It is mine, I have lost my child — it must be mine !'' cried Mrs. Shepperd, in a tone as if her mind was wandering. " You had it from a man in the crowd below," said Jonathan Wild, ad- vancing, •' did you not ?" " Yes," replied the soft low voice of the female, who was weeping, and pressing the child to her breast. " Then," replied Jonathan, "the child is Mrs. Shepperd's." " I knew it — I knew it," replied Mrs. Shepperd, and again attempted to take it. " How — how? — explain — if you have any pity," weepingly, uttered the lady. " Woulds had Mrs. Shepperd's child in his arms," responded Jonathan, '* when the stranger — vour husband, you say — 24 J HE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF •• My husband," replied the lady. •' Well," continued Jonathan, "• when your husband came up to the door ef this house, he kept the child he bore with him in his arms ; the only thing he parted with was his cloak, which he threw over Woulds' shoulders ; he passed through this house, over the roofs, and has escaped with the child to St. Mary Overy's." " Thank Heaven ! Thank Heaven !" energetically exclaimed the lady, " this is your child then, and my beloved is safe — is safe." And she held the child to Mrs. Shepperd, although it was done some- what reluctantly as if she half-doubted the truth of what she heard. Mrs. Shepperd seemed quite lost, as if some overpowering thoughts were passing through her mind and rendered her perfectly unconscious of everything around her. The lady noticed her abstraction, and continued — " This is your child — you ai-e telling me the truth, do not deceive me as you may hope to meet with it in your hour of danger and distress. Is this your child?" she concluded earnestly. Mrs. Shepperd gazed on her face, with a long deep look, as if she would engraft it on her memory that she might — " Call it up whta far away." At length she heaved a deep sigh and exclaimed, " You are the wife of Gilbert Darwell r" " [ am," was the reply. " You are young and beautiful, too young and delicate to be in such scenes, and at such an hour as this," said Mrs. Shepperd sorrowfully; *' but 'tis the fate of those who ally themselves or have aught in connection with the Darwells to meet an untimely end. There is the old prophesy upon their house ; if you know it I need not repeat it, if you know it not 1 will not deaden your future hopes by repeating it ; may ttie Almighty avert it in your case." *'' You know the family ?" said the lady interrogatively. " Know it ?" echoed Mrs. Shepperd; " know it — look at me. Could you dream that the haggard wretch who now confronts you was rich in all the luxuriance of youth, health, happiness, and wealth but a few short years since — so few that they but make days in the life of a human being. Why is it that I am so? I have been connected with the Darwells, the ban of their house is upon me, and upon mine. Look," she cried as she snatched her child from the arms of the lady and bared its neck to the light of the lantern, which was still in the room, and had remained from the time she had brought it when she came to search for the packet wtiich her deceased husband had desired might be given to Anthony Woulds, " Look," she cried ; and with her finger tiaced the blue line already spoken of round its neck. " You see that mark ?" she continued, " that is the doom of an ignominious death. It is the linger of God who has made it the sign of his anger at the wickedness of his parents — aye, of his progenitors ; may you be spared the agony of a constant, an enduring reflection like this ; I could not wish my direst foe such hopeless misery and anguish." Consolation, under such circumstances, comes like a mockery. The stranger, although she could deeply and tenderly sympathise with the despair and wretchedness of Mrs. Shepperd, felt thi^ and would not olfer any; she turned her gaze around the room and found they were alone, Jonathan Wild having decamped as soon as he had explained to the female her mistake re- specting the child in order to find Rolend and Sir Cuthbert, and make a market of his npws. " I must leave here," she exclaimed, " and unobservedly. There are those who must not see me now in this house. Can you aid me to escape ?" " Were it but for the salce of Gilbert Darwell," replied Mrs. Shepperd, raiding her head and fixing her eyes upon the strmger; "I would hazard JACK SHEPPKHD. SkybUio's m.iUimoni.iI oTor tu Jlrs. SlioppeiJ. — pMyc- .'!.'. much to save you, but there is an Interest about you — a feeling which I can- not explain — draws me to you. and makes me— urges me. at all risks, to secure your safe departure from this den of wretchedness, and f will accomplish it or perish in the attempt. Follow me." Mrs. fihepperd led the way down stairs, followed by the stranr^e female .As they passed the room in which Sir Cuthbert and Rolend had taken refucrp, a man came out ; the lady gave utterance to an exclamation of surprise and fear. At the sound he turned his head, and ele- vating a torch which he held in his hantl, looked towards the spot where Mrs. Shejjperd stood; while the female, the instant she observed him look round, cowered behind the widow. The man stopped and said — " (^h, it's you, is it .' What are you afraid of, woman ? Do you think I am going to twist your brat's neck now. Nc, no, you may make your mind happy, it is not your child's death that was sought ; it was higher game we flew at. it it had been known that the old cuimiulgeon at the door had had the squalling brat of a gallows-bird in his claws, nobody would have soiled their fingers with him. or it ; so you nejd not have yelled out in that way. Well, what do you stand and stare at — whv don't vou ])ass on ;" he conckided. Mr. Shepperd felt her gown pulled agitatedly l)y the female behind her, and with some presence of mind, replied — " I will see you depart first." •'Why?' inqired Dorlish ; for it was that particular scoundrel who ad- tkessed Mrs. Shepperd. " Because I fear you;" she retorted. No. 4, 2g THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF ■Z'' Ho! Ho!" laughed he. " Fear me, forsooth— you need not fear me— I have no orders to to°uch vou ; and so, pass on " • When the wolf has been in the fold," replied Mrs. Shepperd, "it is time for the shepherd to look to his flock. You have done me a wrong— I mistrust vou Pass on. This is my house. 1 request you to leave it. "That was well spoken," returned Dorlish, with a sneer; "given with an air of command. But Roland Treyffarth is my master, and when he orders me to quit, then I go. So, pray madam, pass on," he continued, with mock P°.f M?child is all the world to me," said Mrs. Shepperd, with energy, and =till making it a plea for remaining where she was ; if harm or danger comes to it, there is no one but myself to protect or weep for it— it is the only tie I have on earth." . , ^ ,• i • i . -i ^ c " What's come to the woman r" cried Dorhsh, in an elevated tone ot voice. '■ Who do you think, will touch your cursed brat ? March on if you want to go out- if not, go back. I begin to think there is something more than the fear qf -our child's safety which makes you hesitate to pass me, is there not ? " " No " retm-ned Mrs. Shepperd, boldly. " What should there be ? you know not aught of rae; I thraik God 1 know but little of you. There can be nothing connected with me in which you can be in any way concerned., 1 cannot fe^ on a point which is without a cause for it." *' Ah ! I don't know that : but, however, pass on," was his reply, as he fixed his eyes keenly on the widon'. She advanced towards him, the lady still cowering down, and following close behind her. As she reached the man, who kept an eagle's glance upon her, he detected the form of the stranger. " Ha !" he exclaimed, " who is that behind you ?" and sprang forward to seize the ladv, who darted past him like lightning. In an instant Mrs. Shep- perd snatched the torch from his hand, and holding the blazing portion within an inch of his face, cried fiercely— '• Advance one step to follow her, and I dash this burning brand in your face." Dorlish recoiled several steps from her, for the glare in his eyes, and the heat that scorched his features, startled him for a moment ; but it was but for a moment, for ere the words had passed her lips a few seconds he had wrested the torch out of her hand, and sprung down the stairs after the fugi- tive. The stairs were rotten : he missed his footing, slid down some of them, and fell the rest. When he had reached the bottom.which he very^soon did, he found that his ancle had been sprained most dreadfully. He tried to pursue, but he felt sick limped along, and found all his etlbrts vain. He raised a shout ; some persons, accompanied by his master, came up to him. He called Rolend aside, and told him that his sister had been there a moment before, and that this accident had occurred in consequence of his pursuit of her. Rolend muttered an oath, and dispatched two men in search of her ; while accompanied by Dorlish, he returned to Sir Cuthbert, The men sought for the lady — their search was in vain — she had escaped. We must now return to the entry of the Mint-master and his train into the room which contained Sir Culliljert and part of his attendants; Rolend, Dorlish, and a few men, having entered another room, when the door was broken down 1)y the Minters, v/ith the sudden hope that in case of an attack they might be better able to support it, than if all huddled in one spot. " Hurrah !" cried Skyblue, who was foremost in the charge. " Hurrah ! Here they are ! Down with 'em, ' and he flourished an enormous bludgeon. ^' Hold!" cried the Mint-master; " we may come to terms. You appear gen- lemen ; you will like better to shed your gold than your blood, You have JACK SHEPPERD. 27 entered the Mint unlawfully — you must conciliate offendt-d justice with a peace ofFeiing." " Name your demand," i-eplied Sir Cuthbert. " That is a delicate request," retorted the Mint-master; " I must know the circumstances under which the rights of our isle have been violated, aad' award the amount accordingly." " Name your price," impatiently demanded Sir Cuthbert; "or let us pass ree." f " You are hasty. Sir Gentleman ;" replied the Mint-master, with an as- sumption of oflended dignity'; " we will name our demand, and the time of your departure, at whatever time it shall please us so to do, and you must wait perforce imtil then." " Never!" cried the baronet, wavmg his sword; " I will cut my way through sooner." •• " It is a hazardous experiment, which I would advise you not to try," coolly retorted the master. " Your head is made of the usual nnaterials, and you may find that cut through, ere you accomplish your intention." " Will you let us pass, or name your dem-andj" roared Sir Cuthbert. " Both, when it suits me," returned the Mint-master, with provoking ease. " You must first make me acquainted with the circumstances, and you shall then know our charge ; and let me advise you to be speedy in doing the same, or I will not promise that you and the pump may'nt become acquainted, in order to cool the etlects of an oaken towelling." " I defy you and your threats !" returned Sir Cuthbert, with more haste than prudence. " I will pass ! By Heaven, I will cut down the first man who stays my path !" and he advanced to force his passage. " Beat down their cheese toasters !" roared the ISIint- master. " Smash their sconces !" shouted Skyblue. " Dash out their brains!" shrieked the mob, and instantly a clatter of swords and cudgels rose on the air. " Hold !" cried Rolend, entering and forcing his way to Sir Cuthbert. " Hold !" vociferated Jonathan Wild, following, and cleared a path for the Mint-master, The mob instantly obeyed, and the combatants stood eyeing each other with glances similar to those which pass between a dog and cat upon a sudden meeting, when the canine stands prepared to pounce on the feline the moment she endeavours to make good her retreat. " Hold, for your hfe !" whispered Rolend to Sir Cuthbert; " you have no chance of escape but by conciliating these rascals. It would be madness to attempt it otherwise. The man who followed me in, and is now talking to the chief of these rufiians, I knew some time since ; he is a friend of those across the ocean, and he will manage our escape. Jonathan Wild concluded his conference with the Mint-master, who ex- claimed in a loud voice — " There has been some mistake here. Friends," he exclaimed, turning to his motley group of followers, " these gents are a trifle lusliy, and are out on a spree; but, as our sanctuary must not be violated with impunity, they must pay the fees, and they can then dejiart, scot free ; but beware how you are caught here again, gents all. Prudent heels may save a broken head. So much for that : and if all be true that my friend Jonathan has told me, I have a word to say to you in private. Skyblue, clear the room." 'J'he mob were reluctant to depart, but Skyblue was not a man to stand upon ceremony. Those who moved slowly he thrust forward with some celerity; those who moved briskly, were helped on their road by a friendly kick. In a shorter space of time than can be conceived the room was left 28 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF to the ijo^session of yir Cuthi.'ert and Rolend's party, the Mint-master, Mynheer Von (iewesen. Jonathan Wild, and the redoubted Mr. 8kyblue. \ conference then commenced which was rather of a pohtical nature, relating to the Pretender ; which, as it will not entertain the general reader, we forbear to transcribe: upon its conclusion, ^n ("uthbert exclaimed— " We are all friends to the true tauKC !" " I can answer for my party," returned the Mint-master. " Von (iewesen, and myself are too deeply interested in the aflair not to be staunch. Jonathan Wild I can vouch for ; and as for Skyblue, if he does not keep a quiet tongue, he shall be turned oH' in the twinkling of a bed post. " I am not likely to blab," exclaimed Skyblue. gruffly. " No," replied the master, " you'll have your brains beat out if you even think of it."' Now, Sir Cuthbcrt, a small sprinkling of your purse to satisfy the thirsty throats of the dogs without and I will give you a free pass." Sir Cuthbert comjilied, and as they were about to depart, Rolend said, in a low voice, to Sir Cuthbert — " I have reason to believe my sister has been here in this wretched scene and turmoil." " Gracious God !" exclaimed Sir Cuthbert, " im{)ossible." " Dorhsh tells me so," was Rolend's rejily. " What could have brought her "o this horrid place :" asked the baronel, with a sort of shudder. " Can you ask that?'' retorted Rolend, almost scornfully; "it was to follow that scoundrel, and the brat he bore with him. By hell and all its fiends," he swore, gnashing with his teeth, " every incident adds fuel the fire I feel burning my vitals ; let me but once meet with him— I'll tear his heart out- Death and damnation !" he concluded in such a jjaroxysm of rage, that he foamed at the mouth, " Where did you see her ? why did you not detain her, Dorhsh :" inquired Sir Cuthbert, of the man. " I did'nt see her until she had passed me ;" replied Dorlish. " A woman with a child in her arms, managed her escape ; as soon as I caught a glimpse of her, I dashed after her, but my foot slipped down the cursed rotten stairs —I fell to the ground, and I think I've broken my ancle. When I recovered my legs, she had escaped." » Jjy^^*;^o™^n was it ? Who assisted her escape :" inquired the Baronet. " Mrs. Shepperd ;" said Jonathan Wild ; " I saw them together ; it was your,sister," he continued, turning to Rolend, " she gave Master Skyblue a purse of money, for a child—" Skyblue winced. •|Oh! ho!" said the Mint- master. " And she found " continued Jonathan AVild, " that she had got the wrong one, so she gave it back to its right owner "' .'.' bj-^lf '''^'?'^^ l\«^^~^^rs. Shepperd, as you call her ;" inquired Rolend. hind W , '7l 1 V^i'''''' '; ^ ^'^' ^'''' «" tl"^ ^t^"*^; «he kept your sister be- Sirl W t' ^^^'^^^^^^^^ some cock-and-bull stoiy about bemg Sth f .1 ru"^ ''^''l ^'' ^^-^t'-s neck; and when yolir sister flew .r,;c!tot:drh'mS''^^"'" "-^^^^olendhercdy: •' Drag her here," he one o^f th;','nh^f^^™r^ f M ^\'".^-'^^«ter, in a loud voice. '• Mrs. Shepperd is renol 1 o f f,'^'%^^^"'' '^^ ''''^^'^ «f «"« «f the Island^l most lenowned .ons; she 13 therefore entitled to all the rights and privileges of the JACK SHEPPERD. 29 community — she is under our protection — we are sworn to protect each other ; and if you offer to harm one hair of her head, I swear ])y the devil and hia kingdom, that such attempt shall bring upon you certain det^truction. Yet T have no objection to your interrogating her but, that she may not be ill-treated ; do you, Jonathan Wild, bring her here." Jonathan obeyed, and in a few rainutey returned, leadmgm Mrs. Sheppcrd, when she was confronted with the party, she turned her eyes on all until they alighted on Sir Cuthbert, she started and clasped her child close to her bosom, she hung down her head, and stood in silence, waiting the questions about to be put to her. " Woman !" cried Rolend, '• you have aided the escape of one whom I have every motive and inducement to discover ; whither have they fled ? Answer me, as you value your safety." Mrs. Shepperd turned her dark eyes, with an expression of complete scorn upon Rolend, and remained silent. " Tell me," roared Rolend, in a voice almost choked with rage, after waiting with impatience her reply. " Tell me, or I'll strike you dead at my feet." Mrs. Shepperd was still silent : but the Mint-master interposed. " You remember, Sir," he said, "what I have but just told'you respecting Mrs. Shepperd's safety ; be assured we shall fulfil our duty to the extremest point. For you Mrs. Shepperd, pray, answer, did you assist a person to escape ?" *' I did," replied Mrs. Shepperd ; " but he is far, and safe enough by this time." " I thought so ;" muttered Jonathan Wild. '• He!" exclaimed Rolend. "AVho, tell me? I will know. Answer me, or I'll shake it out of you, if the foul fiend himself stood to oppose me !" and he advanced to seize her, but Sir Cuthbert laid his hand upon his arm, and exclaimed — " Stay, Rolend, I have seen the female before, I am sure I have ; but under such different ciacumstances, that I shudder at her present condition. I will speak to her. Alice, for I am sure it is Alice ; and even youwill not tell me what has become of the person we are in search of ? We will offer no violence to you, require it, we will remove you from this sad place to one which is more worthy your former situation. Answer me, I beg of you." Mrs. Shepjierd wept, but made no reply. Rolend gave tokens of impatienc ; and Sir C'uthbert repeated his request. " Will you not tell mer" " It was Darwe!l ;" said Jonathan Wild. " Ha I" cried Rolend, " do you know that.^ Woman, answer me. AVhich way did he go ? Hell and fury ! answer !" " Mrs. Shepperd, does not know;" replied Jonathan Wild, with a cool and fclow tone. He knew the fiery impatient temper he had to deal with. " She does not know — and cannot tell you — but I can." " You ?" roared Rolend," " You ? then tell me at once, and I'll be on his track. Speak ! there is not a moment to spare !" " I never part with anything without receiving an equivalent for it, if I can help it ; answered Jonathan Wild, in the same slow, measured tone, which made Rolend chafe and fume till he could scarce contain himself ; and as I do not fear it's being shaken out of me, why I can make a bargain. What will you give me for my knowledge :" " Here," cried Rolend, " you mercenary scoundrel, take that ;" and he flung him a purse which appeared well filled, " Now, your news.'' " He has gone direct to St. Mary Overy's, to take a boat there for himself and child, to cross the river; but you may easily come up with him, foi a girl, 30 THE LIFE AND ADVENTUKES OF who knows little or nothing of the Island, has directed him a round-about way to the place." " Now," cried Rolend, "I will be on thy trail, Darwell; with all the speed of an Indian, and with less pity. Come, Sir Cuthbert, we lose time. Follow." Rolend dashed out, followed by the Baronet and attendants, Dorlish bring- ing up the rear, limping like a dog with a broken leg. '■'I'll take the liberty of following," said Jonathan Wild; "thereTmaybe something yet to be got." And he departed, wishing a polite farewell to the Mint-master, and his companions. " Jonathan .Wild is a shap fellow," exclaimed the Mmt-master, as the gentlemen he named quitted the room. "Ta!" grunted Mynheer Yon Gewesen, " He will rise in the in the world— mark my words," predicted the King of the Mint, Monarch of the CHnk, and High and Mighty Master of the Island of Bermunda. " Ta !" exclaimed Von Gewesen, in a full clear tone " He will be HANGED ! mark my words. And the friends passed out together leaving, Skyblue alone with the widow Shepperd. CHAPTER IV. A ROUGH -WOOING J A TIMELY INTERRUPTION; AND A PREDICTION. " So, widow, you and I are left by ourselves ;" said Skyblue ; " we'll make ourselves comfortable. You've got a nice bit a' supper here, the grub looks handsome, after all the kick-up ; and I'm as hungry as if I had'nt swal- lowed any pannum for this week past. Come, that ham bone wants polishing. Sit down, widow, sit down, and make your life happy, d'ye hear," he said, as Mrs. Shepperd neither moved or made any replv, but seemed weeping terribly. ^ r. » '1'^?™^''^°™^'°^^^ gal!" cried Skyblue, with an attempt at consolation, " don't nap your bib in that way ; here, take some prog, it '11 put you in spirits. By-the-by, here's some lush, too, take a sup, widow, and wipe your ogles. Here, swig, this 'U make your peepers sparkle, I'll bet a quid to a dump. VVhat ! you won't, eh ?— oh very well. Then I will ; my throat's as dry as a clean bottle. \ our health, and better luck to you, widow Shepperd." And the tellow took a long draught at the llask of wine which Woulds had brought to her that evening. " Ha— aha," he exclair/ied with a prolonged smack of the ipsashe put the bottle down, that's chmce drink; pretty lush; whoever Drought that knew the smack of good liquor ; eh widow ? some cull of yours gave you that eh ? come sit down; here's my chitlings rumbling, and grum- oiiHg tor provender; do you mean to have any, or am I to eat my supper "I do not want any;" replied the widow. " I pray you leave me, I wish to be alone. i j j ^^ hat you want all the grub to yourself do you ? no d n it widow ), ho that s not hospital at hospit— hospit, oh curse that word— but that om the' rub .^'" ""' '"'"^^ ^^"^^^ °^ ^^^'""S a tyke from his bone, as me It was an apt simile, for he looked like a dog at a bone, And Mrs. JACK SHEPPERD, 31 Shepperd who thought he would be more Ukely to quietly leave her when he had gorged himself, said — " I do not wish you to depart with j'our appetite unsatisfied; eat of what there is before you in welcome." " Why, Widow," exclaimed Skyblue with his mouthful — forhe had instanta- neously acted upon Mrs. Shepperd's permission to eat of the provision before him — " why, widow, where did you pick up all those fine words, eh ? I do not wish you to depart with your appetite unsatisfied;" cried he mimicking her. " Well, that's coming tJie genteel, and no gammon ; but I've heard say that you were the kinchin-coe of some tip- top swells. Howsomever, you're now the v.idow of Tom Shepperd, who was twisted high at the Nub- bing Chit, and one of us ; so you ought to patter our lingo. It is'nt every cove as 'ud be fly to your magging; but I had an out-and-out edecation ; so I'm as down to patter of any bloodes, as Jonathan Wild himself, and that's chir- ruping no swipes o' myself, for he has got the gift of the gab. Here, drink, widow — drink my health ; don't say no ? Oh ! very well, more for them as will ; but I must say you are very un-unsocial. D — n those hard words ! they come from my mouth like pitch from the fingers ; takes a good deal of pulling to get it o'X. I s'pose, widow, that living without a cull for such a time has made you forget that one and one make a pair, eh ? and so you fight shy. But I tell you what, widow, I've something to ofier you; I feel in- clined for It, and, damme, why should'nt I do it ? 1 like the looks of you, Mrs. Shepperd ; and 1 remember you stuck^true, back and edge, to poor Tom Shepperd, at the time when those who were" glad once to bemanley and fam snatcher with him, and tip him a grinning mug, turned him the broad of their backs. Vou were staunch to him through sunshine, mud, and mire ; it was doing the right thing — here's your health, my dear." And he took a long pull at the wine, which, acting with a quantity of previous drink he had m- dulged in, before he had mixed with the events narrated, he was getting, what might be called uncommonly drunk. " And now, widow, I am going to make you a ofl^er. What do you think it is ?" •' I cannot tell;" said the widow, with instinctive apprehension that she understood him but too well. '^ Can't you ! now try ?" replied Skyblue, with a drunken and disgusting leer, which was intended to be very tender, aflfectionate, and engaging. Mrs. Shepperd shuddered as she caught the glance he directed to her ; and, shrink- ing back, exclaimed, in a trembling voice, " I do not know— 1 have no idea ; 1 am tired and weary with to-night's occurrences ; I beg of j'ou to leave me ?'' "Leave your" echoed Skyblue. interrogatively; "No — no, widow, you mean love you ; an' that's what I do. We'll be married, I want a doxy that I aint afeard on — one that wont sell me ; and that's you, widow : therefore, you shall be Mrs. Skyblue, eh ? You never thought of having such luck, did you, eh ? — Confess you did'nt. Don't shake so I aint queering you— I mean what I say. Look here! you see this ring, and if it aint a slap up hoop for a doxy's picker and stealer, my alias is'nt Downy Skyblue. There, I'll put it on your finger, and we shall be married." He got up, and Mrs. Shepperd drew back, trembling violently; in her fear and, in the bitterness of her feelings, she strained the child convulsively to her bosom. The action awoke the baby, and it began to cry. •' Hallo !" said Skyblue, as he staggered along, " is he openmg his peepers after his snooze ? I say, widow, I'm told he's very hke Tom Shepperd; is he eh?" " Don't come near me," said Mrs. Shepperd, appealingly ? " Don't come near me ; you frighten the child r" " Oh, that be damned !" hiccupped Skyblue; "the young'un wants some 32 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF grub. Here," heexdaimed, snatching up the flask of wine and the light, and apnro-iched the widow with a very serpentine motion. •' Pray do not toucli him— he wants nothing, he wdl be quiet presently ; replied Mrs. Shepperd, hastily, and still shrinking back. •« Oh, certainly, my beautv,'' cried Skyblue ; *' you shall have your own v.-ay with the kid. because it aint'mine; and you aint Mrs. Skyblue yet, but here is the ring ;-"" and he again produced it. " By Tyburn Topping (Jhii but it is a sparkler ; what's all this writing about, I wonder f^' he exclaimed, examin- ing some engraved letters on the inside ot the ring. " What made 'em cut it so'^small. it dazzles my ogles, and I'm out of practice at reading. Let's see, what's the first letter? That's the largest, at all events. A.— Ah I A. L. I.— that's three of em ; here goes again— let's see, A. L.I. C. I. A. Wliat does iliat spell, widow, A. L. I. C I. A. ?"' ■• Ahcia," rejjlied Mr^. .Shepperd, ])ronouncing the word. "Oh, Alicia!" echoed Skyblue, auil proceeded to decipher the remaining word. •• lieaks and barking-irons, but its a long'un ! R. E. Y. N.— D— nit, how small it is — N- K. L. L. ; ^.hat's eight on 'em ; and there's, one, two, three — why there's ^-iv more to come. Where did I leave ofl"? Oh, L. — Now, F. F. K. Y. K. T. II. Whtt does tliat sound like, when its put all together, widow ? — eh, why don't you answer r What does that sound like r" " What r" asked Mrs. Shepperd, as if rousing suddenly from deep thought. "What!" crifd Skyblue, "are you asleep, or dout you hear? You told me the first name ; now, what is this — R. L. Y. N. \. K. L. L. F. F. E. Y. R. T. H. r — there, thats a winder. " Gracious Heaven !" cried Mrs. Shepperd, '' Alicia Reynnellfleyrth •, can it be possible ?" *• What! Do you know her?" inquired Skyblue. "No;" hastily retorted the widow, "that is, I did — yet not exactly — I heard the name same years ago, and I remember it — that's all." " Oh !" replied Skyblue ; " if you could once get hold of it, to let it roll over your red rag glibly, you could'nt exactly forget it : but that's no matter. Here, widow, put it on your finger, and let's have a kiss, t^ seal the bargain?" " Keep ofl!" cried Mrs. Shepperd, as Skyblue staggered up close to her, to carry his intention into effect. " Keep off— do not approach me ; 1 do not want the ring ; I cannot — will not marry. God knows, I have had misery enough as a wife — I beseech you to leave me in peace ?" " No, no, widow ; you don't know when you're well off!" said Skyblue, still attempting to take hold of her. " Y'ou're luck's about to change; it is'nt every young spicy blade as woidd offer his bunch of fives to a hempen widow. But I lellyou I like you, and I mean to have you." " No, no!" cried the widow imploringly. ^ " But I say. Yes, yes. Why, what the devil is the woman afraid of ?" said Skyblue, with a sort of surprise that his person could excite fear in any female breast. " You don't suppose widow, because Jonathan Wild brought Tom Shepperd to the Nubbing Chit, that hewdl get me twisted— do you?" " Jonathan Wild bring my husband to the gallows ?" asked Mrs. Shepperd, with a rapidity and a manner which startled Skyblue. " Y'es I" he replied, " he did— there was nobody else could have done it but him." "Impossible !" exclaimed the widow. " He always appeared to be my hus- band's triend, and has acted hke one to me since his— his death;" faltered she, as she pronounced the last words. JACK SHEPPERD. P«riloii» situation of Ben Stietclier, who is fired at by Dorli.sh.— Page 39. " It aint impossible." answered Skyblue, "because its true; and your bus- band's last words were, that ' Jonathan Wild had brought him to the gallows ; but that Jonathan would swing there himself; for the tree with the cross branch was made that would break the neck of Jonathan Wild !' and, widow, if you think he will play any tricks upon me, or if I thought so, I'd slit his wizen in the twinkhng of a peeper, therefore you need'nt fear that. " But come, this is all lost time," he continued, "let's have a kiss, my love." " Never !" exclaimed the widow ; "leave me, or I'll shriek for help !" " And who'll come ?" asked the ruffian, with a sneer. " Put your brat down, or I'll chuck it out of the window.'" " I'll die first," retorted the widow, firmly. " Put it down!" roared Skyblue, "or I'll dash its brains out !" and ha made a snatch at the child. Mrs. Shepperd clung to it with a tenacity which despair only could create, but the villain proved too strong for her ; seizing one of her wrists, he forced it behind her, and clutching the screaming child with the other hand, he tore it from her grasp. No. 5. 34 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF "My child! for God's sake have mercy!" shrieked the wretched woman, struo-crlino- with every exertion she could command; but the scoundrel was deafto her entreaties, and waving the child in the air hurled it from him, but his vile intention was defeated, for the child fell upon the miserable bed, with- out sustaining any injury. But Mrs. Shepperd, who had only witnessed the act of his throwing the infant, gave a scream so terrific, so shrill, such an ex- pression of agony, that it made Skyblue pause for a moment, although he kept fast hold of her. " Will you be mine ?" he cried. She made no reply, but shrieked and struggled. " You shall be mine!" he roared fiercely, " although, Jonathan Wild him- self swore you shoujd'nt !" " Then, I'm damned if she shall !" cried a voice behind him. And in an instant Skyblue was felled to the ground by a blow which rendered him insen- sible. It was Jonathan Wild, who had returned from an unsuccessful pursuit of the party he had followed : he had heard the greater part of the con versa- tion, havino- entered the house and reached the door of the apartment un- observed, at the time Skyblue was endeavouring to decipher the name o n the ring. The subject had interested him, and he waited to learn more; he, therefore, heard Skyblue's threat of cutting his throat, and his ultimate defi- ance of him. He then advanced, and with the butt end of a large pist ol, a brace of which he invariably carried about with him, struck Skyblue with such force that he fell to the ground — as we have described — completely stunned. The widow rushed to the bed, and took her child in her arms, and had the satisfaction of finding that it was more frightened than hurt; while Jonathan W^ild picked up the ring, which had escaped by a miracle from falling down the numerous broken places in the boards. " Alicia Reynnellfteyrth," he muttered ; '• this may be of some use to me. Mrs. Shepperd!" he cried, addressing the widow; "1 heard you say you knew the name which this ring bears — to whom does it belong ?" " I will tell you, Jonathan Wild ;'' replied the poor creature, while the tears were falling down her cheeks. " I will tell you, for you have done me a good service. That ring belongs to the sister of one of the party here to-night." " To which ?" he inquired hastily. " To him named Rolend," she replied. " Is his name Rolend ReynnelWeyrth :" asked Jonathan, eagerly. " It is," said Mrs. Shepperd, " Then he gave me a false name," muttered Jonathan Wild ; " but I will be even with him. And the female that was here to-night," said he, again addressing Mrs. Shepperd, " she was his sister, and the Alicia Reynnellfteyrth to whom the ring belongs ?" " The same," was the reply, " That will do," returned Jonathan, and turned in order to depart. Mrs. Shepperd, however, stayed him, " Do not," she exclaimed, "leave that monster here. Oh, Jonathan, how shall I ever repay you for your kindness of to-night !" " Pshaw!" said Jonathan Wild, contemptuously. " Nay!" cried the widow, "you have saved me from a crime— God knows ! I could not have prevented myself— my temptation was great— in another moment I would have jilunged a knife into that wretch's body " Why did not you .'" said Jonathan ; " it would have saved all my trouble." ' ^ our timely interposition saved me from so horrible an aUernative," ex- claimed the widow with a shudder; "and tell me, Jonathan WUd, for you overheard Skyblue s words, was it not a base lie he coined when he said you had brought jny hvisband to his untimely end ?" JACK SHEPPERO. 35 ''No!" said Jonathan, with emphasis. "No!" echoed the widow, as if stunned; "No — -and you brought him to the gallows ?" " I did," retorted Jonathan ; " and I'll tell you why I did it. It did not please him to enter into some plans of mine ; so, my gentleman, not content with refusing to become one in them, must cross them — utterly prevent their accomplishment ; and then tells me some damned stuft" about previous obliga- tions. He betrayed me ; but I foiled him, and I swore I would make a gallows bird of him, and I did." " You did, Jonathan Wild ?" retorted the widow, bitterly : " you did! — But retribution will follow. Leave me, or I shall curse you, where you stand ; and I would not do that — for what you have this night done for me, I would not." " Don't let that idea stand in your way," sneered Wild; "for if Skybluehad not mentioned his intention of slitting my windpipe, and finished by saying he'd have his will in spite of me, he might have done what he liked ; I would never have given myself the trouble of interposing — why the devil should I?" " Cold-blooded, selfish wretch !" exclaimed the widow. " Ah !" jeered Jonathan Wild, " do you think so ? But listen, Mrs. Shep- perd," cried he, suddenly assuming a stern countenance, " I will tell you more than Skyblue did. 1 swore to bring to the gallows your husband — him and his ; mark me, Mrs. Shepperd, his ; that child in your hands, if he lives long enough, I'll tie up at the gallows tree. I've said it, and that promise I will keep through everything.'^ "Monster!" shrieked Mrs. Shepperd, "you cannot mean such horrid villany." " You'll see," replied Jonathan, coolly, "if I don't drop off before." " I pray to the Almighty I may be taken from this life, of — to me, utter wretchedness — ere such an hour arrives, if ever such an one should, and I have a horrid fear of it. (iewesen has predicted it, and you, remorseless wretch, have sworn to accomplish it." " I have, and I will keep my oath," replied Jonathan Wild, with a taunting laugh. " Jonathan Wild !" almost shrieked Mrs. Shepperd, and fixed her black eyes, which seemed to flash fire, ui)on him with a gaze which he could scarce withstand ; and with one hand pointed towards liim, she looked like a prophet- ess of old uttering some fearful prediction; "Jonathan Wild, listen to me. — Mark every word — I feel an inspiration on my spirit, which tells me that I speak of thmgs to pass with a truth that every future occurrence will carry out. Hear me ! my boy, this child I bear in my arms, will cross you in your dearest schemes — will thwart you in that which you will set your heart strongest upon ; and if you will bring him to an ignominious death, your's will follow but shortly after.'' " I'll bring him to the gallows," cried Jonathan Wild, " in spite of the devil himself !" " Then YOU wu.u be hangeij!! Mark me, Jonathan AVild ; Gewesen has said so, and I feel the spirit of j)iophecy upon me, which tells me the gal- lows that bears my child will hanc; you ! I've said it !" "Ho! ho! ho!" laughed Jonathan Wild. "Hear me, hempen widow; hempen mother that is to be ; Jonathan Wild will hang Jack Shep- perd ! !" and he passed out of the apartment. The widow's eyes followed him with a withering glance, and when his form was hid from her sight, she stag- gered and fell insensible on the wretched bed. 36 THE LTFE AND ADVENTURES OF CHAPTER V. THE HURRICANE. \iithonv Woulds had experienced much alarm and excitement from the events of "the ni^ht, and when the door of Mrs. Shepperd's house was broken down, he hesitated whether he should enter the house ; l)ut as he concluded from the position of aftairs that it was more that jn'obable thnt an angry atiray would ensue, he thought it advisable to depart homewards. He had some distance to go— to cross the Thames— the hour was late, and a storm seemed brewmg in the air ; therefore, all things considered, he deemed it prudent to make the best of his way to his domecile. He accordingly trudged along. In coming hither he had crossed the river in a waterman's boat, and the waterman had consented to wait for him at the public-house, near St. Saviour's church. To this house, therefore, Woulds directed bis steps. He cast his eyes uneasily at the sky, and could distinguish huge masses of clouds gathering up and hurrying along with great speed; the v.ind rushed along every now and then, with a howfin a fitful gust, and then died away; anon it eame tearing along, and then a-^ain subsided ; it was bitter cold, and occasionally a drop of rain alighted upon the face of Woulds. " It will be a deuce of a night," thought he, " and I must get home before it comes on the worst/* and he quickened his pace. After walking some time through turnings and windings, he reached the house where he was to meet the waterman ; he entered, and encountered the land- lord, who exclaimed — " You are just in time, friend; we were just going to close the doors." " Then I am fortunate," said Woulds, " in getting here before you did shut up. I have a waterman waiting here for me, of the name of Ben Stretcher.''^ " He's here. Sir," replied the landlord. " Walk this way — he's in the par- lour," and the host led the way into the room ; Woulds followed him, and saw his boatman seated before a glass of grog, holding a colloquy with to or three persons, who appeared to marvel much at what they heard. Ben Stretcher had been a Man-of-war's man, and he had been relating a few adventures he bad met with. He was winding one up as Woidds entered — " I was a topman," he said, " at that time, d'ye see, and was sent up with a lot more to shake out the reefs. Well, as we were laying out on the yard, some one passed over my body to get to the yard-arm. " Steady, bo !" I cried, for I had'nt got my feeton the foot rope. " Steady, bo !" I cried agin, but I was too late — I'd got a cant for'ard — and over I went, a reg'lar sommerset. As I fell I caught hold of a clue line which was hanging loose — snap it went — and away I went ; but I war'nt down yet — the clue line gave me a lurch, and I went up agin the topsail-yard (I'd fell from the to-ga'unt yard), and I made a clutch at the lift, but missed it, and went bump agin the main-yard-arm, and smack into the sea right upon the back of a large shirk, which had been following us for some days, looking out for grub, or a dead body ; or, for the matter o' that, them cre'turs ar'nt partiklar, a living one would do as well — may be better, cos I think they've rayther a tooth for fresh meat. Well, when I found myself sitting across the cretur's back, like a cook's mate minister athawrt a hand spik ; I shoved my thumbs into its eyes and held on him hke " Grim Death.'' " Ship, ahoy !" I roared, as soon as I'd got a Uttle wind. " Man overboard !" cried the watch on deck. " Well, the cretur; when I'd got my thumbs stuck in his glims, gives a dive about five fathoms deep, and scuds along like the Fly-away frigate going large before the wind. Afore I knew where I was, the shirk had carried me a quarter of a knot a-head of the ship. I did'nt like my JACK SHEPPERD. 37 berth much, and I turned my head to see what they were about on board, and I saw 'em lower the jolly-boat from the davits abaft, and four hands, with a middy in the stern sheets, giving chase a'ter me. Well, sirs, the shirk went along like the devil a'ter a purser ; and kept a-head o' the boat in such a way as made me think I was to have a long voyage with him. I did'nt know 'xactly what to be up to, but I found that by kicking him to leeward I brought his muzzle more to the wind ; so I tried to get him right in the wind's eye, and then, you see, I know'd he could'nt make so much head-away. We were just beginning to feel the breeze that we expected, and the sea began to tumble a bit. Well, I kicked away at his ribs with my larboard leg, and round went his head as though he obeyed the tiller : sartainly he had good steerage-way on him. Well, a'ter kicking a little more, he turned slap round, and made right for the boat as was pulling a'ter me. When I see'd that, you may be sure I was mortal glad ; I gave him a twinge in the peepers, and my eyes what a whistle he gave! Away he went]and never stopped till he run right athwart hawse of the jolly-boat. I was off his back and into the boat in no time. The shirk gave a dive and we saw no more of him; we gave three cheers and pulled on board, and for a long time, in fact, all the time I belonged to the crew of that vessel, they called me the ' Shirk rider.' " '' Very remarkable," said an old gentleman. " Brmg me a glass of good brandy, landlord," exclaimed Woulds; "I want something to wash that down, and keep the cold out !" " Strange thing !" said the old gentleman; "very strange! but you meet with very odd occurrences at sea, you seafaring men !" " Ah, we do. Sir," said Ben Stretcher. " And tell very odd things !" remarked Woulds. " They are all true," rephed Ben, with some little feehng of asperity, as though Woulds' remark had implied a doubt of his veracity. " Your brandy, Sir ," said the landlord, entering, with a small measure of the spirit and a glass in his hand, " Thank you," replied Woulds, and drank it off, " Very good liquor, land- lord ; here's your money. Now, boatman." " Ay ! ay ! Sir !" replied Ben, '' If you are going to cross the water to-night, I would advise you to look sharp," said the landlord, '' for its coming on to blow very hard." " It will be a dirty night, I know," said Ben ; " but you've nothing o' the \vind here : I've seen it blow so hard, that it would take your eyebx-ows off as clean as a razor !" " Lor I" said the old gentleman. " Oh !" cried Woulds, " well, that will do ! after that we will start. Come along,',Stretcher ; that's a good and proper name of yours, boatman,'' " Glad you like it. Sir," exclaimed Ben, rather pleased, for he did not see the allusion. "This way, if you please. Sir; our boat is at St. Mary Overy's," con- tinued Ben, leading the way, " I don't like the looks of the weather ; it will come on to blow hard enough to slit the devil's tail into ribbands. W'e must look sharp, for the tide's running down, and got the wind with it ; there'll be a rare fall at the bridge to-night." " As quick as you like," said Woulds, who began to grow rather nervous, and wish himself safe and snug in his house in Drury-lane, They both quick- ened their pace, and just as they turned down by the water-side to the stairs a man came up hastily, and mquired — " Is this the way to St. Mary Overy's ? tell me quickly for the love of heaven !" « " This is St. Mary Overy's stairs, if you want them," answered Ben* " I do," leplied the stranger. " Are you a waterman ?'* 38 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Yes," said Ben. -it- " Then ferry me across the river with all the swiftness in your power, and I will reward you so handsomely that it shall be such a fare as you never had be- fore," said the stranger, with earnestness. " I have got to take this gentleman over," replied Ben, " and a light boat and strong arms are wanted in a wind like this ; but I don't suppose that your weight will make much difference, though I sha'nt be able to pull you over so quick as you seem to want me." " Boat, your honour !" exclaimed a waterman, who had overhead the pro- mise of a handsome reward ; " My boat is ready to cast off, and I'll have you across the water in no time, Sir." " Away with you, then," said the stranger, " swiftness is my object." *' Is your name Darwell ?" asked Woulds. " Ha !" exclaimed the stranger ; " who asks that question ?" " Anthony Woulds !" replied the worthy owner of the cognomen. " Woulds ?" returned Darwell, for it was him. " You are right, that is my name ; you have done me good service, I shall not forget it ; and you can add to the obligation by informing me what has occurred since I left you," " I can tell you little, save that there was a rare dust about to be kicked up, for I set the Minters on the rogues' heels who were after you," returned Woulds. " The villains ! they tried to murder the child in my arms, but they were mistaken ; they did not succeed in their object; and I think the fellow who tried to strangle the infant won't forget the tap I gave bim for some time to come." " That violence was intended for this infant," said Darwell. pointing to the child which he still held in his arms. " They have their turn now, but mine is to come ; and when it does, let them beware. — What more," he continued, addressing Woulds, " have I yet to learn ?" " I have nothing more to say, but the sooner you are away the better for your safety," replied Woulds. " Many thanks, Anthony Woulds," returned Darwell, grasping his hand with a warm pressure ; " we sball meet again. Farewell ! Now, waterman." The waterman ran on, and Darwell followed him. " Come, Ben Stretcher," cried Woulds, " let's see wliat short work we can make of it." " Ay, ay. Sir," said Ben, in reply, "that young fresh- water tar has taken the fare out of my teeth; he's strong and nimble, but I'll see if Ben Stretcher can't put his fare at Whitefriars' stairs as soon as he." Ben trotted along to the stairs, and Woulds trotted after him. Down the steps run Ben, jumped into a wherry, which was made fast to others, tossing and riding up and down in the troubled waters. He handed Woulds in, and cast off. He put his scull against one of the wherry's, and pushed off : the boat shot out, but the tide was running so rapidly that the boat's head was towards London Bridge ere Ben could get his seat. " Ah, I thought so !" he cried, and pulled lustily. " Do you see anything of the other fare r" he asked of Woulds. " Yes," said Woulds, "they are just before us, and they are tossing up and down.— Bah !" he exclaimed, as the wind brought the spray of a splash made by the scull of Stretcher with force into his face, and almost deprived him of his breath. " Did I splash you ?" asked Ben, who was putting out his strength, for the wind was blowing harder every minute. " Ah ! these things will happen at such times as— Hallo 1" he interrupted himself, "• why there is a party taking a boat at Ht, Mary Overy's. What do they want, I wonder ; they are kicking JACK SHEPPERD. 39 up a nice row ; what a devil of a hurry they seem in. How they tumble in. Oars too !" he ejaculated, as he saw two men prepare to row. Woulds turned himself round and saw — for his boat was not far yet from the stairs, and the party bore torches, which threw a red glare upon them — the very men who had set upon him — Sir Cuthbert and Rolend's party. He guessed what they were after, and roared to Ben to pull away. '• AVhy, they're pointing to our boat," said Ben. " Ah ! that's a lucky thought; if they mistake my boat for his, he will escape. Ben, pull away with all your might and main to Arundel stairs. I'll pay you well." " All right. Sir," replied Ben ; " they are pulling after us." " That's right!" cried Woulds ; "keep a-head of them; and if we reach Arundel stairs first I'll give you a sovereign." " Then, here goes i" cried Ben, giving way in capital style. Woulds looked anxiously round and found they were certainly pulling after his boat ; and, what pleased him more, another five minutes showed him the distance between them was increased. His gratification lasted but a short time, for he found the wind and tide were so tremendously strong that all the endeavours of Ben Stretcher could only keep them across the river following the track which Darwell's boat had taken. Ben was made of good stout stuff, and he could work hard and keep to it ; he had been taught that accomplish- ment on board a man-of-war- He pulled with all his might and strength, and soon overtook the boat containing Darwell. " Darwell !" shouted Woulds, "your enemies are after you !" " Thanks," cried Darwell ; " I saw them embark. Pull, man ! pull I" "Ah! young Freshwater!" exclaimed Ben to the other watej-man, "put out your strength, if you have any." " I shall wish you good bye if 1 do," retorted the young man. " Try it, my boy — try it !" jeered Ben. The young man did try it, and succeeded too, for he was stronger, and had a better boat than Ben Stretcher under him. Ben muttered several sorts of sayings, and kept hard to his work. This emulation was the best thing which could have occurred to secure Darwell's escape ; for the pride of the watermen was roused, and was a greater inducement for them to use every effort and ex- ertion than any sum, however large, could have been. Woulds turned his head to look for the pursuing party and found they were gaining on him fast. The wind was roaring furiously, the water was raging, and yet above the tur- moil he heard the shouts of Rolend calling upon him to stop ; but it was an invitation which he respectfully declined, and urged Ben to make as much way as he could. Presently he was startled by the report of a pistol, and more so to see Ben fall on his back kicking his heels in the air. He concluded instantly that poor Stretcher had been shot, and he grew grievously alarmed for him- self; not that he feared the violence of Sir Cuthbert's party, but he was in horror at being with a dead man in a boat, of the management of which he was entirely unacquainted, and on such a night too. He held on his seat firmly, and he found the boat had lost her head way, and was drifting rapidly with the tide. He turned his head anxiously, and found Rolend's boat close upon him. " Here they come !" he exclaimed aloud. " Then I'm d— d if I don't be one on them," said Ben, recovering his seat. " Are you shot ?'* asked Woulds anxiously. " I don't know," replied Ben," but my head is singing like a bo'sen piping all hands. Ah ! come along !" he exclaimed, as the boat of the pursuers came up with them : " I saw the gentleman that popped at me, and if I don't 40 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF give him one for luck my name's not Ben Stretcher. Damn it !" he con- chided, " here's one of the gculls overboard ; that's a devil of a go." The boat, which contained Sir Cuihbert and Rolend, now ran close along- side of Stretcher," and the man n-ho was pulling the oar nearest them shipped it. and seized firmly hold of Stretcher's wherry, to hold the two together ; at the eame time one of the party rose up, and so did Ben Stretcher, with a scull in his hand, with which he dealt the man who had risen, and who was the one who had fired at him, such a tremendous blow that he staggered back and fell overboard. The tide bore liJm away never to restore him alive. " Dorlish is knocked overboard !" shouted Rolend; "but even that shall not prevent my inflicting summary vengeance on you, Darwell ! you s-caun- drel !" and he made towards \Voulds with a drawn sword. " My name is Anthony Woulds '." shouted Woulds, with all the swiftness his tongue would let him, for Rolend's motions were very speedy, and he might have a hole made through his ribs before he could explain that he was not the man they searched after. " Anthony Wonlds, not Darwell ! you have attacked me once before to-night; what do you want with me?" "Why, its the old rascal," exclaimed Rolend, "that thwarted us once before to-night. We want nothing of you, you old fool : but, tell us, doe.i that boat before us contain him ?' ■ " Who ?" asked Woulds. affecting ignorance. " Why, Darwell !" roared Rolend. " How should I knovi'," replied Anthony ; " I don't know who Darwell is nor is it my business to stand at the ferry and note every one that takes a boat." " Liar !" shouted Rolend passionately, you do know him ; you aided him to escape already to-night : and if you do not tell me whether that is him, and if he has that brat with him, I'll pitch your body into the Thames." " It must be him," cried Sir Cuthbert," no one else would have taken a boat on such a night. Let's after him, we lose time here.'' " You may thank the urgency of our pursuit," exclaimed Rolend to Woulds," or you would have been food for fishes by this time." " And you'd swung on the gallows tree," roared Woulds in a passion ; but the boats were separated, and his words were borne away on the wind beyond the hearing: of the person fnr whom it was intended. They were now in a pretty predicament ; the storm was raging furiously, and Stretcher had but one scull to work the boat with. He soon found it utterly impossible to make any progress, although he changed the scull from side to side; and his efforts, on makmg the unpleasant discovery, were now made to keep the boat steady. 1 he wmd kept still increasing, and Stretcher thought he would make a last ettort to get the boat across. As he pulled hard on the larboard side of the boat, he found that its head did not turn so easily as he expected, at the same time he heard a rushing of water at the stern. "Hallo!" he cried to Woulds, "are you holding a thwart at the stern?" ■' * "I'm holding nothing but the sides of the boat," answered Anthony, in a tone with which alarm and despondency were strongly commingled. ^'^"'ear," halloed Stretcher; "there's something at the sternpost acting as a rudder. W hy, look, we are getting across. Lock over the side, and see it you can see anything, Woulds did as directed, and the movement he made caused the boat to 1 Ik '/I , ^T^ instaet something bobbed up from the water, and Woulds bobbed back; but Stretcher, who saw the occurrence, immediately roared " Its the scull ! Its the scull ! Lay hold of it ?" r- JACK SHEPPERD; MysterioTis rencontre of Woulds and Rolend,— Page 44. Woulds made a grasp at it and caught it. but nearly upset the boat, and much nearer broke the scull, by endeavouring to pull it into the boat with the blade flat in the water. Stretcher, however, directed him what to do, and gave a groan of satisfaction when he once more found himself with a pair ot sculls in his hands. He now pulled hard again, to make up for lost distance. in a little time voices, in angry contention, smote on their ears. A vivid Hash of lightning showed them that they were quite close to the two boats contain- ing Sir Cuthbert, Rolend, and their people, and Darwell with his child. Mr Cuthbert and Darwell were struggling, and at the instant the flash ol lightning occurred, Woulds saw Rolend also join in the struggle, and attempt to get the child from Darwell. Stretcher, who also saw the action, shouted— " D'ye see that. Sir ? two to one; ay. five to one. D— n me if 1 11 stand thfit without backing the weakest. Here goes for a rescue ; hurrah tor the man with the babby !" and Stretcher pulled with all his mig.it to the boats, which were drifting m his direction ; but his greatest efltorts could onlv keep his boat from actually losing j/round. It however, had the effect required; lor the l)oats bearing the contending parties now rapidly approached them, and >'o. G. « • ■ THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Woulds distinctly saw Rolend obtain the child from Danvell's possession, and hold it for a moment hig-h in the air, and the next instant hurl it into the water ; they also saw Darwell throw Rolend violently down immediately he had accom- plished his monstrous act. In a state ot dreadful excitement Woulds cried out — " Good God! he has thrown the child intp the water — it will be drowned! Pull, man I Pull 1 Try and save it! Fop the Lqr4's ^akfi, pqll h3r4 •" Hp shouted, his tone increasing in loudness with his agitation. "Steady, Sir! sit still; sit still!" roared Ben, ''or we shjill all be pvep! Here comes the babby. There's top much run ip the tide for it to sink — here it is — there, that white bundle — dip for it — lay hold — mind, you'll miss it — bear a hand — never mind a wet sleeve — ah, that's it !" he concjpdetl, as Woulds drew the child intp the boat and put it, a soaking mass, upon ^^^ knee. }le leant his ear dpwn to the infant t6 ascertain if any sopn4 came from it, or whether the water had rendered it insensible ; but he iFound tl^at it w;is enveloped in a woollen mantle, which had prevented its being affected by the water, and a low half-smothered cry assured him that the child was still alive and uninjured. He felt a load off his che.st as he discovered this fact, and turned with a less anxious £?aze than lie had recently given upop the coming boats, when he was startled by a loud and sudden cry from Ben Stretcher. " Hold hard. Sir! hold hard, and stoop down: here comes \\\q wipd in its fury ; we must go — here's the bridge, and t knpw there's a> ten-foot fall. Nothing can save us. Make your peace \vith 3fOur Maker, for (i we strike the bridge we must go to the bottom." " Loi'd of Heaven preserve us !" ejacplatpd Woulds with fervepcy. " Amen !'' returned Ben Stretcher. " f'll put the the boat's stem, and back water to the bridge, and the moment you are close to the starling, stand by to jum]); directly the stern strikes, out with you, its your only chance." " I will— I will," murmured Woulds, his teeth chattering with great violence. "And you," he inquired, as well as his teeth would let him, "how will you get out :" " Oh," returned Ben, " I shall shoot the fall ; I go with my boat — its all I possess in the world. I've no wife or children, and if I lose ray boat, I'll lose my bread; and so, why not my hfe?" There was no time for more ; the gale had now burst with all its force and fury ; it howled and roared with a violence which defies all description ; the water dashed and danced about showing its teeth, making the river look like a niass of white fringe ; crash succeeded crash ; vessels broke from their anchors, and were scattered about, striking each other, scuttling, and then sinking; houses were unroofed; tiles and chimney-pots ilew about in all directions; trees were uprooted; and all objects opposed to the storm were blown dou-ri as' though they were of no stronger substance than paper. Along it came; that;, terrible burst ! Woulds saw a sheet of foam encircle the apjn-oaching boats, and almost at the same moment found himself in the heat of the storm, which' roared and whirled round him with deafening and frightful clamour. He \tas bewildered, he cowered down, the spray dashed over him, and amid the din he heard the voice of Stretcher halloo— "Now, stand by— turn to your right— jump— jump for your life !" He did as directed, he felt the boat strike a'rainst the pier ; he jumped in an agony of fear and hope ; it was pitch-dark, he did not know where he was jumping to— but he jumped, and alighted on the slimy, stoney-end of the stariing, which was a large pomted jirojection from each pier of the bridge. A huge wave struck It just as he landed, and the spray covered him, hitting him with such violence that it threw hun upon his back ; he however recovered his feet, but discovered that the water was thrown by the wind in such huge quantities thai JACK SHEPPERD. -MT 43 if he were not actually drowned, he would at least be drenched so terribly with cold water that his life would pass away before assistance could be ren- dered him. What to do, he could not for a few minutes think; the water still dashing up furiously, burying him every time it came in foam. If he could by any means, he thought, get to the other side of the bridge, he should at least be protected from the lury of the wind and water. He resolved to try it. He remembered that there was a massive sheathing, forming a portion of the starling which passed under the arch to the other side, and that it formed a ledge of about a foot or foot-and-half wide. He remembered this because in his younger days he had been engaged in the repair of the bridge ; but he also remembered that it was covered with a green slimy ooze, which rendered it in calm, clear daylight a most dangerous passage to pursue, but on a night as black as ink, during a tremendous storm, it was the dcznier resort a man would make for his hfe. Woulds found that if he staid where he was he must perish, and there was a chanc* — a frail, most frail one, still, it was a chance — of saving his hfe, and he determined to attempt it. He had endeavoured to shelter him- self in one of the abutments of the enormous piers with which the old wooden l)ridge was provided, and now he crouched in while he buttoned the child in his coat, which, thanks to the fashion, was sulhciently capacious for the pur- pose. Having succeeded in this, he gently slid himself out, and prepared to turn under the arches ; but this he found a matter of difficuUy to accomplish. The wind rushed through with such tremendous force that he nearly lost his life by falling into the boiling torrent which tore along beneath his feet. He recovered himself, and hesitated ere he again attempted it. He speculated in what manner he was to accomi)lish his task. If he endeavoured to walk along it with his back to the arch, a slip of the ninety-ninth degree would precipitate him into the water ; if he tried to crawl along on his hands and knees, there was every prospect of his shoulder striking, or of his, in such case, toppling over. The only means which appeared feasible to him, offering the greatest chance of securitj', seemed to be by seating himself on the ledge, and mov- ing himself along by raising his body and jerking himself sideways. Movmg his hands for that purpose, down he sat, and began his journey, committing himself to Providence. He had seventy feet to pass oyer. Seventy feet is soon passed in walking ; in lact, in any mode of locomotion ; but, to Woulds, in his frightful situation, they appeared miles. He moved on, arid reached the centre of the arch. He iiaused to recruit his strength and his nerves ; his hands were covered with slime, and it rendered his hold less secure; at his feet was the inclined plane of water, the fall — as it was termed — whirling along with immense rapidity, making him feel giddy by itsj very speed ; the wind, too, as it Hew through the arch, the draught adding to its violence, seemed almost sufHcient to tear him from his seat and precipitate him into the Hood. These thoughts crowded upon him and rushed with velocity through his brain. He grew horribly nervous ; he fancied he was slipping from his seat into the torrents ; he felt himself going, and that he could not save himself ; death stared him hard in the face ; he must drown. " He must drown !" seemed to be dinned in his ears, and he shrieked aloud in an agony of fear and apprehen- sion. He felt giddy, sick, his head seemed turning over, dragging h:^ body to the deep, and he clung wi!;h the Ijitterness of maddening despair to the slimy edge on which he was seated. But the fit of terror passed over, and he with more coUectedness than he had as yet felt proceeded on his journey, 'llie extremity of his danger had prepared him for the worst, and it now lent him a courage to go on at all hazard; even if he perished in the attempt, it was better to die in an eifort to save himself than to sit passively and be washed into a, 44 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF watery grave. On he went, moving slowly but surely, making his journe " Small by degrees and beautifully less." "Perseverance overcoraeth all things;" and Woulds arrived safely at the opposite side of the bridge. Here he found himself in comparative security ; he was sheltered from the fury of the wmd, which swept past him on either gide ; and the water was twelve feet below him, boiling, roaring, foaming, eddying, and whirling with maddening fury. He was drenched to the skin, had not a dry thread about him, the night was wretchedly cold, and he felt, as he stood shivering in a recess of the pier, as miserable and desolote as it was possible for mortal to feel. He thanked heaven for his escape thus far, and shuddered as he reflected on what must have been the fate of his companions on this eventful night. He heard the boats, as he reached the starling, when he jumped from Ben Stretcher's wherry, carried past him like lightning; he had heard a shriek ring in the the air above the roar of the storm, and mourn- fully guessed its melancholy import ; and as he offered up a prayer for thtm, he reflected that he himself had not yet escaped. He was at a loss, amid all the clamour of the elements, how to make his situation known ; and, even if he did, how was he to be succoured ? Old London Bridge, the parent of the one recently pulled down, was covered with houses, in which resided merchants and traders of all classes. Among the residents at different periods were Hans Holbein — the celebrated painter, John Bunyan, and the wealthy Earl of Halifax. The bridge appeared to be a continuation of Gracechurch-street, leading into High- street, South- wark ; and besides being a place of considerable traffic — for at that time it was the only bridge across the Tliames belonging to London — the houses upon it were thickly populated, and Woulds had some faint idea that by some means he might be rescued from his perilous situation, if he could only make some one in the house above him aware of his position. He fancied that in the turbulent waters he saw the reflection of a light, perhaps from some window overlooking the spot where he stood. He thought he would venture out from his httle recess, and try what shouting would effect. He was just leaving it to fulfil his intention when he saw a man upon the starling, scarce three yards from where he stood. He rubbed his eyes and felt his heart throb violently, as he asked himself whether it was a ghost. The figure turned round, facing him, evidently without seeing him; and turning his face u])wards, Woulds saw by a light which came from above that the man was Rolend. He turned hastily, almost tremblingly, back into the recess ; but the suddenness of his movement induced the child to cry, Rolend started as if electrified, and gazed fearfully at the spot from whence the sound proceeded. He pressed his hands to his head, and tihuddered as if he had heard a voice from the grave. Again the child cried, and Rolend peered into the darkness, as though he would pene- trate its most hidden recesses, and with a kind of frenzied desperation advanced to the spot which concealed Woulds. At that moment there was another tremendous burst of wind, and again the din became stunning and frightful. A crash of a terrific nature ensued above, and a mass of bricks, mortar, tiling, and rubbish came clattering down, appearing to burv Rolend completely be- neath the ruins. Woulds groaned aloud with fright,' and hugging the child closa to him, waited with fear and trembling until the noise had subsided, and the roar of the wind and water was alone to be heard ; then he ventured to leave his stronghold, and shouted for help, strongly and lustily. He received no answer. He increased the loundness of his shout, getting' more excited as he called, until his ciy for help l)ecame a shnek. He thought of the dead body ot Rolend close to lus leet, and lie in that horrid dismal place alone with him; JACK SHEPPERD* 4!i he screamed for help, and to his joy he heard a voice, in reply, above hira ; and a rope was lowered down. He grasped it; he made a noose, and fastened it beneath his arms in a minute, and hallooed for the persons above to haul away. They did, and he was drawn up through a small window into a room, where there were several people assembled. He held up the child, gave a feeble hysterical laugh, and fell insensible on the floor. When Woulds had recovered, it was the next morning a clear bright sunny morning after the terrific storm of the night preceding. The owners of the house he was in had acted the part of the Good Samaritan towards him, and bestowed every attention and care his exhaustion and miserable plight de- manded. He had been put into a warm bed between blankets, hot bottles to his feet, and e/ery remedy necessary to restore him had been used. His first inquiry, upon being restored to consciousness, was respecting the child. A good matronly- sort of a woman told him that it was alive, and very well con- sidering the awful scene it must have gone through, Woulds gave a sigh of relief, and about two o'clock prepared to quit the bed, nearly restored, with the exception of his nerves, to his usual state of health : but ere he left the bed, he most fervently returned thanks to the Almighty for preserving him through so terrible a series of occurrences as he had that night passed through, without sufl'ering more harm than an exhausted body and shattered nerves. He dressed himself and entered the parlour, where he found the mastsr of the house and his wife seated, a warm breakfast was presented to him, and they gave him a sad account of the serious effects of the last night's hiuricane. He asked for the child, and it was brought to him. He looked upon its face for the first time, and was struck with the beauty of its countenance. He felt an attach- ment to it spring up almost while he looked on the small and exquisitely-mo- delled features ; and taking it in his arms, he imprinted a kiss upon it, and then proposed to take his departure. He thanked his entertainers — indeed, his preservers — lor their kindness and hospitality, and informed them of his name and address. Mutual promises of future kindness were exchanged, and "Woulds quitted the house. As he passed along into Gracechurch-street, and down Lombard-street, he was then indeed aware of the fury of the storm, and shuddered as he reflected on the way in which he had been subjected to its violence. The streets presented a mass of bricks, tiles, broken chimney-pots, sign-boards scattered here and there, some houses partially unroofed, others partially so. The wreck and scene altogether was one of wretchedness and de- vastation. Woulds picked his way through, every now and then starting as he heard the crash of a falling wall, and was almost in expectation of some stack of chimneys which were rendered dangerous, overhanging in a frightful manner from some heavy substances having fallen against thera. He hurried along in great tribulation, every now and then casting his eyes anxiously up- ward in expectation of a windfall. There were a great many people moving backwards and forwards, some to see the sight, others to repair the ravages, and not a few to " pick up whot God might send them." Woulds reached St. Dunstan's churck ; here the narrow way was almost blocked up by rubbish and wayfarers. The worthy man suddenly found himself in company of a ras- cally, most forbidding set of individuals ; and they began to inquire, although he had scarcely moved, where the he was driving to ? and one gentle- man of the party, with his head bound up,, and a pair of tremendous black eyes, roared out — " Hollo ! old scout ! why you're the kiddy as chaffered the kinchin coe in the darky, and mizzled without coming down with the rowdy — the Mint-master wants you !'' " Does he ?" replied Woulds, who felt in a disagreeable predicament, and $5 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF scarcely knew what to say ; for he recognised the rascal that had snatched Mrs Shepherd's child from his arms the previous night. " Yes," returned Skyblue ; " so, come back with me," " I shan't," returned Woulds. " You wont — we shall see. Hollo ! why you'v* got the kid. Hand it over —will you ?" cried Skyblue, as his eyes alighted upon the infant, which Woulds held firmly, yet tenderlj', in his arms. " No, I shall not !" replied Woulds : " the child is nothing to you. What right have you with it ?" " Come, that's pitching it strong," said Skyblue; affecting a scornful tone. " What right have I to it — eh ! why its mine ! There, palls, this cove nabbed my kinchin from my old 'ooman — the kidnaj)ping bloak ! give it over !" '* I'll see you d — d first !" roared Woulds. " You lying rascal, it is not yours." "Aintit?" responded Skyblue ; "hand it over!" and he made a grapple at him, which Woulds resisted by thrusting him violently back." " Give the man his kidwy ; give up the voung 'im ; let the daddy cull have his kinchin ;" cried several voices in the crowd ; and Woulds found himself being hustled and being pushed from one side to the other. He shouted " Watch, watch!" with all his might, and luckily for him they were just on the spot. They came up and dispersed the mob : fortunately the head- constable was a friend of Woulds, and he also knew Skyblue. There was a mutual recognition between the three, the effect of which was a shaking of hands between the con- stable and Woulds, and the sudden and hasty decamping of Skyblue. Woulds did not now let the grass grow under his feet, and once again he was beneath his own roof. " Thank God !" he fervently exclaimed, giving a long breath, as though a ton weight had been removed from his chest, " I am at home once more ; and for you, my little helpless innocent, if you are an orphan, you shall be my son — at all events, my adopted child — till circumstances may arise which may re- store thee to thy parents. And in humble thanksgiving and recollection of the awful events of the last dreadful night, I will call the Escape Darwell.'' END OF THE FIRST ERA. CHAPTER VI. SECOND ERA.-1716. Jack shepperd — an apprentice. Fourteen years passed away since the perilous events occurred narrated in the precedmg chapters. Fourteen years ! How long a period to look forward to— how rapidly did it pass away. We count the past by circumstances, the future by hopes. In our youth, what bright anticipations do we form of the time to come— how fondly do we look forward for the hour that shall bring us the reahzationof our fairy dreams ; of our schemes of happiness— of our an- ticipations of joy and sweet content. Who does not know the bitterness of disappointment which each day produces ; each one dashing some fond, favou- nte object to the earth. Still do we cling to those which remain with the JACK SHEPPERD. * tenacity of alarmed expectation ; still do we have to relinquish them, until the last has faded from our grasp, and we exclaim with the poet — " Where now are all my flatt'riag dreams of joy !',' Fourteen years ! In that period what is there not contained ? Revolutions which may convulse the globe, the high and mighty prostrated, and the lowly elevated — the rulers of the land gathered to their ancestors ; our own change from infancy to boyhood ; from that to manhood ; twice the term of youthful slavery; and but too generally the amount of experience which makes us cry, sadly, " Is this life ?" Mr. Woulds sat at dinner with his wife, or rather, we should say, after dinner; the dinner appurtenances had been removed; some fruit was placed upon the table, and Woulds was discussing some Indian weed over a glass of good grog. He sat near an ojien window, and his wife sat opposite to him. .She had placed herself in a comfortable position to watch the various folks pass and repass her house. She was a woman who acknowledged to thirty — may have been rising forty-two or forty-three ; had certainly reached thirty- eight; but, to do her charms justice, when she acknowledged to thirty, you might almost let the acknowledgment pass unquestioned. Mrs. Woulds' beauty was of that " unwearing " out quality, she would grow to the other side of fifty-five, and although you felt a moral certainty that she must have attained thirty, you would giw her the benefit of the floating twenty-five years. She might be any one of them, and might not. fler person was rather incUned to corpulency; her features were well and regularly formed, showing at least that she had been a pretty smiling girl, and one inclined to flirting and pleasure. She was very fair, and her blue eye, which could express mildness and amiability to a tender extreme, could also flash with one so angry and fierce that one felt inclined to ask what remove she was in point of relationship from a tigress. At the time we speak of she was seated by the window, as we have said, and dressed as though she expected some person whose good opinion, if unobtained, she desired to gain, and if attained, to keep. She was in rather a queer temper — a compound of smiles and frowns — of graciousness and ill- humour— a desire to appear unruflFled at a time when something was vexing her temper. There was a tapping of the feet ; occasionally an angry toss of the head, exhibiting as much contempt and disdain as such an action could express; she was was very fidgetty; she would cross her arms and lean un- easily back in her chair, then jump up, smooth her apron, and smile as a foot- step broke upon her ear ; it passed away, and the seat, the pout, the frown, and the position were resumed. Anon she looked at herself in a large glass, which was on the opposite side of the room, and the scrutiny seemed to con- vey some satisfaction, for she turned from the inspection with less seventy of manner than the previous moment had shown. She was dressed with the ut- most care .- her head was adorned with a small cap, from which pinners ae- scended ; in the side of her hair (perhaps wig— we beg her pardon) was placed a rose, to give a delicate tint to the check it was overlooking; her gov/n was of the fashion of the period— tight body and sleeves, deeply edged with lace ; the pattern — an extensive leaf; there was a stomacher, ornamented profusely, and from her side depended a watch, about the circumference of a modern Dutch alarum clock; her round neck boasted a necklace of black beads tipped with ffold; her fingers were adorned with many rings, and set oif a small white land to much advantage : her wrists were adorned with a bracelet of peculiar make, much worn by the higher class of females of that day; and when a turn in her tiilk gown gave an opportunity, a foot decorated with a silk clocked stocking and a high- heeled neat shoe, was presented to the view. She looked 48 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF out of window, and occasionally met the hard gaze of some lady passing, who looked on with a species of wonder in her eyes. " Impudent baggage !' cncd Mrs. Woulds, with an angry air; " What's she starmg at?" Then, as soma smart fellow would walk bv, and perhaps repass, looking impudently and ad- miringly, at the pretty face with the little round black love-spots placed with iudicious care on the face, she would toss her head, but without mmghng any ■feehng of annoyance at the gaze she met. Mrs. Woulds foresaw a storm brew- ing : he was not anxious to stir it up, and set it in action. Her motions, he could perctive, were like the impatient frettings of a high -blooded fiery horse, who stands pawing, and even curvetting, without letting his rider know whe- ther he will go steadily on for the journey, or whether he will run away with him. Mr. Woulds smoked his pipe, and sijipcd liis grog. He looked at the lire-grate, at the cieling. at the iloor, and at iiis wife. Between each glance at the different objects, he thought he'd sjieak, and he thought he wouldn't; and then again he altered his mind, and thought he would. *' vfiW you take a little grog, my dear r" he asked. " Shall I mix you some ? " " No, I sha'nt;" was the reply. " Why not, my love r" inquired Woulds, rather gently, as if he expected a box on the ears for the question." " Do you suppose I am such a beast as you are ?" rejdied the lady : " to sit swi\ling spirits in the middle of a hdt summer's day : No^ no; I may be bad, but not so bad as that, I thank my stars." Mr. Woulds was about to observe shat he had known her to do it con- atantl)', but then he checked himself; perhaps she was not in the mood to be told these unpleasant truths; so he altered his remark and said — " Well, my love, is there nothing else you woidd like? will you take some fruit?" " No," said the lady. " If you fs.ncy anything. Jack shall go and fetch it you;" assured Woulds, who tried to allay and soothe the irritation ; endeavouring by his conversation to draw off the ill-humour before it exploded ; as a magnetic kite is supposed to draw the electric fluid from the thunder-cloud, and conduct it harmlessly to the earth. " No, I tell you; don't bother me ; I don't fancy anything; and, if I did. Jack shouldn't go and fetch it. " He," said the lady hastily : *' I tell you, Tony, that boy grows more impudent every day ; a young saucy dog ; does not even show me becoming respect, as I told him the other day, when I gave him a sound box on the ears, which made them tingle I'll warrant me ; and when I did it, what dy'e think the young varlet said ?" " I don't know," replied Woulds, wh» thought he knew what he should have said had he been served so. " Why, that I was not his mother, and that he was not my dog, to cuff and kick whenever it pleased me; and he would'nt stand it, if he did he'd be d— d. There ! what do you think of that ?" Woulds shook his head, without venturing a reply : but he thought he ad- mired the boy's spirit, although he did exactly approve the mode in which he exhibited it ; but then, he knew his wife's temper, and could make allowances for Jack's conduct en that occasion. At length he said— " And what did you do then r" " What did I do ? why I'd hare flogged him as long as I could have stood over him, but " 'Scape " interceded for him, and saved him the sound cuffing I mtended to have giren him. 'Scape's a good boy, and a civil one. Why did you give him the horrid, ugly name of 'Scape— that ought to hav3 been JICK SHEPPEEO Jack Shcpperd's adventure at the Blue Lion.-Page 55 c T 1 «i,.nnprf1 Ah that boy will follow his iither to the gallows- the name of Jack S^^epf nl. Ah, tjf ^ " (, j ^ -^ ^ irit of prophecy tree-its born m him ! ' ^oncl^f e^JJ^^^j;; o, ' .^i^^jlf^, ^ acknowledge ; " Don't say so my love ^^^^ than a desire to behave badly; he is a ge- but that is more his constitution than a^^^^^ ,vords will do everything nerous-hearted, 8?°^-"'' u is ifut lie oTher da^ that he was idle, and I scolded -harsh ones, nothing ^ ^^^^ j\'^^^ an/ I told him, unless he worked him for It severely; he had '^^g"^^^ , ' t down the plane, and stared me hard. 1 would tl"-f .^. 17^^\\;'^/S7,e^him a sound cuff, when he fixed coolly in the face; I lifted my hand to gi expression that I could his large brown ^f ,"^--^,^,\;:f^Jng'upl it : it seemed as if his father not hit him if my hfe had bfe';,^^'""; iJ ^{^^ eyes, as he used to do when I poor Tom Shepperd, was lo«.^^"f ^^A^t j put my hand down and said Lve had to blow him up for ^^^ .^. lj;';^„^'^''^e in ?hat way ?' He returned no No. 7. 50 JACK SHEPPERD, I felt that It would be of no use to ask him what he would have done, for I know quite enough of his temper to inform me that I should have got no an- swer ; and so I said ' Jack, you have forgotten that you are my adopted son ; that I have taken you under circumstances which would haVe induced most persons to have turned from you. I do not tell you what I hdve done in order to make you think you are uhder heavy obhgations to me, biit to' ask you if you think I am to be harsh to yoii, or to beg rfnd entreat of you to be a steady, active, good lad, for any good which I may receive ; or is it that your mother, who has tthdergbne enough to have destroyed most woitien_, may receive some small portion of i"uture happiness, to repay in some slight degree the bitterness of her early years. What is my motive, think you?* The lad wotked his harids convulsively together, and said, ' You have been very kind to iriy mother, and very good to me. Sir. I know 1 ara wilful, but indeed 1 cannot help it. If I strive to do good, I feel a kind of devil in me, which stirs me up to mis- chief — which makes me dislike work ; but I will try to be better, Sii, for your goodness to my poor mother. I don't forget, J^ir, that you were the only kind true friend she had wheli my father was hanged;' and he burst into tears dnd turnfed away to his work. 1 was about to speak, when Escape put up his fin- ger, and came up to prevent me. He asl^ed me some cOramon-place question, and then whispered 'Do not speak to him now, Sir; 1 know Jack's temper well, and if you say another word, you'll undo all the good you have just now done.' I thought it odd to be taught the way to treat a temper by a boy of fourteen ; but then I recollected how fohd Jack and Escape are of each other, and so I thought he knew best. Well, for a fortnight no boy could do better, I doubt if so well, as him ; he can already turn out articles which I Lave put him upon as well as I could when I was a journeyman, and handles a plane as if he was bohi to it, in fact just like his father, and in all my expe- rience I never saw one to equal him. Escape cannot compare with him — but then they put me in mind of the fable of the * Hare and the Tortoise.' Escape goes on steadily, and gets his work done when it is wanted : now Jack grows lazy, and leaves it to the last minute ; before he begins he knows how quick lie can work, and thinks he may go to sleep as the Hare did, while Escape goes on, slow and sure, as the Tortoise did — although, to do Escape justice, he is faster than a tortoise," " I should think so," interrupted Mrs. Woulds, " or he wouldn't be good for much if he wasn't." " Well, when Jack wakes up from his idleness, as the Hare did from his sleep, he is surprised to find that Escape has done his work, as the Hare did when he discovered the Tortoise had won the race. Now," said Mr. Woulds, who thought he had been very happy in the simile he had been drawing be- tween the conduct of his two apprentices and the fable' " Now, there is two packing-cases to be made by six — it is now four — I would hold a wager that Escape has finished his and Jack has not begun his." " Well, go and see," said his wife, " you know I expect Mr. Dowlas here every minute, and I don't want any talk about carpentering while he is with us, and he don't like it I know." " I don't like that Dowlas," said Woulds, with an expression which left no doubt that he meant what he said." He takes too much upon himself; and besides I think— nay, 1 am sure— he talks treason. Now I love my King, and and am a loyal subject, and he knows it. What the devil does he talk about Jacobinism before me for r" Mr. Woulds concluded testily; but that was not exactly the reason which made him dislike the expected visitor — it was because he paid too much attention to our worthy carpenter's wife; and, what made jnalters worse, she seemed to like it— if she did not return it. " You're a fool," retorted the lady, bestowing one of her fierce glances JACK SHEPPHRD. 51 upon Woulds. " Mr. Dowlas is a gentleman ; he talks about the person whom he believes to be his lawful King, Hasn't he as much right to talk of his King as you have of yours, I should like to know ?" "No," returned Woulds; " it 's against the law— it 's treason." " Fiddlestick-end ! " cried the lady, waxing wroth. " Don't tell me ! against the law, forsooth ! You thought of the law, I dare saj', when you intrigued with that Gallows Jack's trull, Mrs. Shepperd, and took a cottage, and fur- nished it for her, at Hackney. I found you oat. How do I know but that cub. Jack Shepperd, as you call him, isn't your son ? and for the matter of that Escape, too ; it's all very fine to tell me about finding him in a storm, and all that. If I could be certain of it, I 'd lead you such a life, I would. Treason, indeed — you talk of treason ! What do you call your conduct ? — isn't It treason ? I may be bad, but I am not so bad as you, I thank my stars." This was a Jacobite termination to Mrs. Would' s speeches when she intended proceeding in a violent strain, and, as her husband was aware of it, and had no desire to bring the storm about his ears, he turned deprecatingly to her and said — " My love, you are mistaken— upon my honour and soul, as a man, you are. I know, I placed Mrs. Shepperd in a cottage, and so forth, but, so help me heaven ! it was but an act of charity, in consideration of what the poor thing had suffered ; and as to Escape, I have told you nought but truth re- specting him, as I hope to be saved !" And Mr. Woulds, concluding, put down his pipe and advanced affectionately to the lady; but this was a bad plan, for ladies, when they are dressed for any particular occasion, do not like to be fondled, for it rumples and disarranges their attire ; therefore, upon the approach of her spouse, she desired him to " Keep off" !" and looked at him as though, if it had been possible, she would have reduced him to a non- entity. " Keep off!" cried the dame; " I want none of your stuff" and carneying. Go to Mrs. Shepperd," she concluded, with a disdainful toss of the head and a glance at the glass, which plainly said, " If you do, God help your taste !" " My Molly love, you wrong me !" exclaimed Woulds, appealingly. " You are too charming to make me go anywhere else ; and to-day you look better than I have seen you for some time." " Do I ? " exclaimed the lady, a little softened, but still speaking harshly. " Yes, my dear," returned Woulds. " Come," he added, " give me a kiss, and I will be ou'into the workshop, and see how the lads are getting on." Mrs. Woulds wished for his absence, and therefore she said — " Well, take one — but don't be violent." Mr Woulds took half a dozen, and Mrs. Woulds, pushing him away, said — " What a bear you are ! Look how you have put my cap out of place, and crushed the rose. How horrid awkward you are!" " Never mind, my love," cried Woulds, " there's the glass, you can put yourjelf to rights in a minute;'' so saying, he quitted the room, and proceeded down stairs, and through a long passage across a yard to an outbuilding, which was his workshop. AVhen he reached it, he paused at the door, and peeped in, as it was ajar, to see what was going on. Upon the bench stood a lad, with his back to Woulds, gazing at a transverse beam with an expression of satisfaction and pleasure. Upon the bench, and underneath the beam, he bad placed a pair of small steps in order that he might reach it to execute some object which he had in view. Woulds could not discern what he was up to, and looked and peejjcd, but to little purpose. While standing there," the servant-girl crossed the yard, and the boy, hearing the footstep, turned hastily round, and presented u face of very pecuhar character to the spectator, ilis face was 52 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF an oval but rather a flattened one, being wider in proportion at the temples for the 'length from the forehead to the chin; the eyes were. a full large brown eye, of a most intelhgent nature, quick and searching in their gaze, seeming as quickly as tSey presented an object to the bram to decipher its meaning, intention,' and whole purpose ; the eye-brows were long, and more square than arched, giving a character of shrewdness and decision to the features ; his nose was an inverted curve — not a pug, but partaking of that form— it was rather wide at the tip, but not disagreeably so; his mouth was large and sensual, the lips were thick, and the markings were all indicative of pleasure in low indulgence ; his cheek bones were high, and rather prominent ; and his hair, which would have been jet black if there had been enough of it —being cropped quite close all over,— gave a character to the head wiiich as- sorted wonderfully well with the features ; his height was about five feet two inches ; and his person slight, slim, and well-formed. He wore the costume of the period, which made it the mode for boys to wear the same fashioned habiliments as the men ; he was without his coat, had on a long waistcoat, reaching nearly to the top of his thigh, breeches buckled at the knee, and shoes which, coming very high on the instep, were decorated with a pair of large buckles. In his right hand he bore a mallat, in his left a chisel, and under his left arm a gouge. As the sound of the footstep passed away, he turned to the contemplation of the beam, and commenced singing one of those low flash songs which were the favorite chaunts of highwaymen and thieves of all descriptions. Between each verse he held a colloquy with himself re- specting the merits of his performance, which was the carving of his name upon the beam already mentioned. " There '." he exclaimed, " I think that is very well done. Jack Shepperd — it sounds very well — and looks very well. That S is not quite so good as might be, but it will do. Jack Shepperd ! I am glad I put Jack, for John Shepperd does not sound half so well. It would look well in a book — ' Jack Shepperd's Extraordinary Life and Adventures, and the Daring Exploits of that Famous' — famous — hang it ! how the word Highwayman comes to my tongue's tip. I should think it must be a fine bold life; — I should like to try it. Mr. Woulds groaned. " To have a fuie high-blooded horse under you — to gallop in the broad moonlight up to a coach or a man, and clap a pistol to their head, and cry * Stand — deliver ! ' Oh, it must be beautiful ! — Over Hounslow-lieath, on a fine winter's night, A traveller rode in a bit of a fright ; And he looked at the moon, so pale and cold, And thought of graves, and thought of his gold — And of terrible Claude Du Val ! He looked to the left, and he looked to the right, And he gazed strait on in the bright moonlight ; He trembled with fear, and he drew in his breath, For he thought of thieves, of pistols, and death — And of terrible Claude Du Veil ! But why did he shudder, and why did he shake. And startle as though he had trod on a snake ? Like a ghost from a grave, and a youth by his bride, A horseman was riding quite close by his side — Was it terrible Claude Du Val ? JACK SHEPIERD. 53 " Good even !" the stranger right merrily cried, ' Good even ! ' the traveller faintly replied ; '* I'm glad we have met," said the stranger with glee, •' For 1 very much fear highway robbery — And that terrible Claude Du Val ! My money is placed where he never can find ; Let me wliisper a word — my doublet lin'd With gold pieces of every size and degree," Cried the stranger, and laughed : " Hast thou any with thee — Kept hidden from Claude Du Val ?" The traveller smiled, and the plan he confest Was a capital good one, but he liked his own best. ' I've a verra large soom in goold an' in noots,' He said, with Scotch accent, ' all safe in my boots — I think I shall trick Claude du Val ! " Thanks ! " cried the stranger, with a loud laugh ; then said, As a pistol he ciapt to the poor Scotsman's head, " May I beg that large sooui, in goold an' in nootes, Which is hidden so snug and safe in your hoots — I am terrible Claude Du Val ! " " Oh, beautiful— beautiful ! " cried Jack Shepperd, laughing until the water came into his eyes. " That was a famous trick. Ho ! ho ! ho ! I should like to be a High Pad, as Skyblue calls 'em." " Should you?" roared Woulds, bursting into the room. " You lazy, idle rascal, is this what I am keeping you for, to spoil the beams of my workshop, and to sing low, profane songs ? What do you mean by it ? Where is the packing-case which I told you to make ? — Not even cut out ? W^hat should prevent me soundly thrashing you ? " " You 'd better not," retorted Jack, doggedly, as he jumped down upon the floor, "Why not?" answered Woulds; and turning round to find something which might assist him in the infliction of the punishment, he saw a packing- case completed upon the bench. " What ! " he exclaimed, iri rather an al- tered tone, " Have you done your work. Jack ? " " No," replied Jack, " Escape did that : it is the one you set him about when you gave me mine to do." " And where 's yours ?" asked Woulds, his choler rising again. " Not begun," said Jack, with unflinching coolness. " Why not ? Tell me, tkis instant. Why not ?" cried Woulds, his brows contractmg rapidly, and his lips compressing. " Because you did not want it, you said, till seven o'clock, and it is not four yet; I can easily knock it otFin that time,'' answered Jack. " Jack, Jack ! " returned Mr. Woulds, " that is a feeling which will ruin you if you persist in it ; you place too much dependence in your own speed, and it will fail you at a time when you most need it. That was your father's great fault ; he was my best workman and my laziest. He knew in what time he could produce an article and the interim was spent idly, in drinking, and bad company. What was the consequence ? — he brought himself to the gallows, his wife to misery and wretchedness, and left a bad name for his oflfspring to fight against. Instead of wasting your time, you should be endea- vouring to earn yourself a good name, that your mother may be in some way repaid' for the anguish and obloquy which your father brought upon her." 54 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Say no more say, Sir, said Jack ;" I'll try and do my best to please you for tlie kindness you have always shown my mother, and I'll get this packing-case done at once, as it would have been, if I had taken Escape's advice." " I wish. Jack, you would imitate him a little more," said Mr. Woulds, softened by the last speech Jack had made; " he is a good lad, and does freely and willingly what he is told." . ■, . . , x «' Ah," said Jack, with a little exultation, "but he might imitate me when I do work; I am a better carpenter than him, he's slow." " Yes, but he's sure ;" repeated Woulds, with emphasis ; "and a sure work- man, although he may be an inferior one, is of more value to a master than a clever workman in whom he cannot place the slightest dependence. Now, with Escape, I do not mind acknowledging that you can work better ; but if I tell him to do anything, 1 may make sure that he will do it, and to the best of his abilities too. But with you. Jack, such is not the case, I am sorry to say ; although, if I give you anything to make, I know that when made it will be well done. But I do not know ivhen it may be done, and that is often of almost as much consequence as its being wsU done." " I'll try and do better. Sir," replied Jack. " That's well said !" exclaimed Woulds ; " and see if you cannot act up to it." " I'll get this case made by seven o'clock," cried Jack, and sprung lightly with one hand up on to the bench, and from there, to the steps. " Where are you going ? What are you doing ?" said Woulds, as he wit- nessed the rapid movement of Jack. " Here's some half-inch stuff up here that I want. Sir," replied Jack, and leant over diagonally to get it. " You cannot reach it," cried Woulds. Jack persisted, and gave a little spring to assist himself ; away went the steps, down came the plank clattering, and Jack clung to the beam. Mr. Woulds sprang on one side to avoid the falling timber, and at the same moment Escape Darwell entered. " Hallo, Jack !" he cried, "what's the matted ;" and jumped on the bench to assist him. " Why there you are hanging, with your name carved over your head, as it you were your own portrait ; and the painter had written the name in full length on the top of the frame, to tell udio was the person beneath." Mr. Woulds cast his eyes up as Escape helped Jack dov/n, and saw the odd coincidence which the lad had noticed, of Jack clinging with his hands to that portion of the beam in which he had with such pains recently carved his name. Woulds felt a cold shudder creep through his veins, and muttered — " God bless him ! I suppose it will take place. Well, what is to be — will be !'' " Have you hurt yourself, Ja?k ?" asked Escape, with an air of interest. " No," returned Jack, "but I have shaken my shoulders a bit; a little hard work will soon take the stiffness off. " I am glad to hear you say so," said Woulds : "and I hope you v/ill keep to your work when you have begun it. Y''ou have done yours. Escape, I see. You are a good lad, and mind what is said to you." " And so does Jack;" returned Escape, endeavouring to prevent Jack no- ticing the alluded comparison. " You told him — told us both — to get them done by seven o'clock, and so they will be, you will see." " I hope I shall," answered Y/oulds. " You shall," said Jack, beginning to make shavings in style. " Very well," rejilied Woulds ; " when you have dor.e yours. Jack, I want to send you to Lady lleynnellffeyrth's with them ; so bring them to me in the parlour." Thus concluding, he walked away. JACK SHEPPERD. 55 " Do you think, Jack, that j'ou can get this done," asked Escape, " by the time father wants it r" •' Done !" echoed Jack, " to be sure. "Why ?" " Because I would help you," replied the other, " and then we can soon get it out of hand." " You're a good fellow, Escape," cried Jack, warmly ; " and, when I'm in a scrape, always try and help me out of it. I hope the time will come when 1 can serve you. I'll stand by you staunch and true to the back-bone." " I'm sure you would," answered Escape, " for you've a generous heart. Let them say what they will of you — I like you;" and he held out his hand. Jack took it and squeezed it warmly. "Escape," said Jack, with large tears standing in his eyes, "you can do whfjt you like with me : there is nobody speaks so kindly to mc as you, and when I do something which displeases everybody, they rate and scold, while you have always an excuse, and a kind word for me. I have had some sad thoughts lately. Escape, and should have done wrong but for your afl'ectionate conduct towards me. There is now something which I know I ought to tell to master, but I expect he will tiy out in a rage when he hears it ; and when he does that, I have a strange feeling, Darwell — I cannot help it — I feel a hot pressure on my forehead, and I clutch my fingers, as if I could spring upon him for talking so roundly to me. And when I try hard to keep that down, I can't tell him anything. I feel inclined always to say, " I'll see you d d first !" " Jack — Jack !" inteitupted Escape. •' I can't help it— its no use — I'll try and break myself of it if I can ; but he must not snub me so," continued Jack, determinedly, " if he does I know what I should do, and that would be something I may be very sorry for after- wards." " But what is this you ought to tell father ?" asked Escape, trying to turn the ch:annel of the conversation ; " will you tell me. Jack ?" " Yes," replied Jack, " I go sometimes to the Blue Lion, inWych-street" — " What, that haunt of thieves and rogues," said Escape, reproachfully. " Ah, Jack ! its a horrid place.'' " Well, never mind ; don't speak of it now, Escape," exclaimed Jack. " I won't go there no more. But I was sitting there the other niglit, with a fellow named Skyblue ; and a man cams in and sat doivn by his side, and talked first to him as an old friend, and then to me, and made himself very friendly and agreeable. In the course of conversation, he asked me if I was short of money; and I said I had not too much. He laughed, and told me if I would do a little thing for him, he u'ould give me a guinea — perhaps two. I asked him what it was ; and he said only a simple question to satisfy. And he took out of his pocket a small packet, dirty, as if he had carried it about with him ;-i long time; and he opened it, and took out a master-key. He put it into my hand, and asked me if it would fit any of master's locks. I replied that I did not know. He then said, ' If you will try, and bring me word, I'll give you a couple of guineas, and do many more things for you.' I took it, and brought it home with me to try, " Well?" asked Escape, almost breathlessly, " And I find it does fit every one about the place,'' returned Jack. " You have not told the strange man this ?" asked Escape, with alarm de- picted upon his features. " No," replied Jack, " and here it is ;" he added, and holding up the key — " I am so glad — so very glad — you have not told him !" ejaculated Escape. " I am sure it was for some bad purpose that he wanted the information." •' Of course," retorted Jack ;" I can guess pretty well what it was for, I can -g THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF see as far as most people, and bethought I was a boy, and a fool, but he will find himself mistaken." "AVho was it?" asked Darwell. , t i.- , t .. ii « I don't know for certain," replied Jack, "but I thmk I can pretty well guess." " Who ?" impatiently demanded Escape. r^ 3 ■^ r " Why, I heard Skyblue," continued Jack, " say ' Good niorht, Jonathan ; and there' was a queer, cunning, foxish look about him, like nobody else, and so I've thought since it must be Jonathan Wild." " What, the celebrfited Thieftaker ?" asked Darwell. " Yes," answered Jack. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, have nothing to do with him, Jack!" cried Escape • " he is known to bring all who have connection with him, friends or foes, to the gallows. " He won't send me there," laughed Jack. " Won't he ? " replied Escape; " that's the very thing he said he'd " and then he checked himself, and looked confused, as if he'd said too much. " What did he say ? " asked Jack Shepperd, as he turned his full hazel eye upon Darwell with a searching gaze he could scarce withstand. "Oil, nothing; I was mistaken — it was " poor Escape stammered, and looked dreadfully embarrassed. " Tfli me, Escape ; I do not fear to hear it. I know he knew my father— I have heard master say so. What did he say of me ?" asked Jack earnestly. " Don't ask me," replied Escape ; " I wish my tongue had been out ere I had made that slip." " Nonsense," returned Jack. " To tell me this, is not like a friend, Escape ; to half-tell me a thing, and then, when you know it must excite my greatest curiosity, to keep it from me. I hate suspense." " Well, then. Jack, I'll tell you. I know you are not at all superstitious, and not easily frightened," said Escape. " One day I overheard father and mother talking about you, and I heard father say Jonathan Wild brought your father to the gallows, and he had sworn to your mother that he would bring you there too." " And hang me ?" said Jack. " And hang you," repeated Darwell. "Will he?" replied Jack; "that's an affair which time will show. He hung my father," he continued musingly, •' but," grinding his teeth, " let him beware of me. Escape," he cried, " will you tell master I have some- thing to say to him. I'll give him the key at once, and tell him all." " That's right. Jack; that's worthy of you ! " cried Escape with, pleasure. " You'll still be a pride and pleasure to us all I" and he departed on his errand. Jack Shepperd, the boy of fifteen, but the man in refle^ction, shook his head as Escape left him, and said " Never, never ! it isn't in ms. I know what will be my path, and I feel it, but I cannot check it ; I see it, but cannot avoid it; it is my fate — for it draws me on without giving me power to stop myself. Jonathan Wild hung ray father, and has sworn to hang me. Very well! Something tells me he will succeed: but let him lookout — I'll be a thorn in his side which shall sting him to death, or my name is not Jack Shepperd !" So saying he set himself hard to work at the p^ickmg-case. JACK SHEPPERD. Visit of Mr. Dowlas* and his friends to Mrs. Woulds.— See page 02. CHAPTER YII. ESCAPE DARWELL — BARBARA WOULDS. Anthonv Woulds had kept his word of bringing up the infant he had rescued from death on the night of that memorable hurricane. It was with some reluctance and much suspicion that Mrs. Woulds received it at hrst ; but after a httle while, having no child herself at that time, she became fond of it, and gradually yielded to the belief that Woulds had told her the truth. As Escape grew up to his fourth and fifth year, he was universally ad- mired as a most beautiful boy, and Mrs. Woulds began to feel flattered in his being mistaken for a son of hers, and almost to feel a mother's attection tor him. She had a daughter, two years old; and, as time proceeded, they be- came playmates together, and Jack Shepperd was added, much to Mrs. Woulds' displeasure, who always thought with distrust of the feeling ot cha- rity which had induced the worthy carpenter to take the child from Mrs. Shepperd, and on that account she took a dishke to Jack from the hrst ino- ment he entered the house ; and as she was a woman who would have her own way in spite of everything, who was testy and flighty, and gave utterance to every petulant feehng she might be influenced by, it may be well supposed that the modicum of affection which Jack received was rather small from her. The servants also, who generally take the tone of their employers conduct to ^0. 8. ^8 JACK SHEPPERD. depenrlents, did not fail to see which of the two boys was the favourite, and to treat Jack accordingly ; the little daughter too had shown all through her life such a d3cid3 J preference to Escape, that Jack, with the exception of Escape himself, was quite at a discouat with the inmates of the carpenter's house. Woulds had shown no preference but what good conduct on the one part, and bad on the other, had compelled him to exhibit; but being of a hasty disposition, he sometimes fletv in a passion, and it was well for poor Jack if he did not get some hard blows. When he did receive thera they oaly hardened him, and kept him in the path from which Woulds was en- deavouriag to turn him. Thus Jack, who had some hereditary evils in his composition, hafl them fastened aad strengthened by neglect and slights; and had h? been differently treated at first there might perhaps have been no cir- cumstances to have called this history into being. Darwell, on the conti-ary of Jack, was a pretty child, and as he grew up gave proofs of a noble, generous, and amiable temper. At the time we now introduce him, he was not quit«5 fifteen years of age — 'but tall for it; he had fine deep blue eyes, and very long dark eyelashes ; a straight nose, rather prominent but well formed; his lipi were beautifully modelled, and when they parted they disclosed a set of regular teeth of pearly whiteness; his face was a complete oval, and his com- plexion clear and fair, while his cheeks bore the rosy hue of good health im- pressed upon them ; his hair was long, a deerp brown, and fell in ringlets upon his shoulders ; his head was well placed upon his neck, and his neck upon his shoulders; altogether he presented the appearance of a very handsome well-made youth, giving bright promise of a noble manhood. As he proceeded on his way to inform Mr. Woulds of Jack vShepperd's request, mentioned in the last chapter, he encountered Barbara Woulds : she stopped him and questioned him whither he was deporting in such a hurry ; and having informed her that he was taking a message from Jack Shepperd to her father, the little maiden inquired why Jack could not have done himself that kind office ; to which Escape having repUed that there was a " motive for it," the young lady acquiesced, and accompanied Darwell to the parlour to which the reader has been already introduced. " Father," cried Darwell, entering — he had called Wovilds " father" when a child, he still continued it — " can 1 speak a word to you ?" " Assuredly, my boy !'' replied Woulds ; " out with it." " I would speak it alone," answered Escape, in a tone as if he disliked to give utterance to such a wish. "Why! what can it be?" questioned Mrs. Woulds, who was the very person Escape did not wish to know anything respecting his mission, " Why don't you answer. Escape, my dear ?" " To is nothing of any consequence," replied Escape, trying to assume an indifferent air. " Well, ray boy," said Woulds, rising, " I'll step out Vith you, and learn t ; I arn sure it is nothing bad if it is to come from you." i " If it is nothing bad," cried Mrs. Woulds, her temper and curiosity be- ginning to make a fair start of it, *' you can have no objection, that I can possible see, to say what you have to say t before me; therefore. Escape, I: insist upon your telhng before me what you've got to communicate with that long mysterious expression of countenance. Come, boy, out with it, as your father elegantly says ?" " I'd rather not," said Escape. " Tell me directly ?" tartly exclaimed Mrs. Woulds. " Tell me, Sir— Mr. AVoulds, I request— I insist upon your not quitting the room until I hear what lisc ape has to disclose;" JACK SHEPPERD. " It if! only a message from Jack Shepperd to father," exclaimed Escape, in despair, for he knew Mr. Vv^oulds would not come out of the room alter the exordium from his wife to remain. -A message from Jack Shepperd to your father!" echoed Mrs. Would s, with a scornful lau«h. " and what may this fine messapfe be from that young cub— some more of his wickedness I'll be bound. What is it, Escape ? " I cannot tell !" replied Escape firmly. • , , . • " Oh stuff' don't tell me !" cried Mrs. Woulds, who mistook his meaning. "I know better— he tells you everything, and I am sure you know." Escape remained silent. , ,, -.tt n • • f^ " Will )'ou tell me, sirrah?" demanded Mrs. Woulds, growing passionate by his silence. " No !" answered Escape decidedly. _ „. , . . " You are a saucy, impudent young scoundrel," cried Mrs Woulds in a fury "And yon," she scornfully exclaimed, turnmg to Woulds, stand quietly by and see me insulted by a-a dog, who ought to treat me with every submission and respect. I say, you, stand quietly by and see my feelings outraged, without turning him out of the room and cuffing him, as he ought to be, soundly-soundly !" cried she, beating her long fan upon her hands, suiting the action to the words. "Mother!" said Barbara deprecatingly. o«. ,!,„ ca,T,» " Don't you interfere, Madam!" retorted her mother sharply ; at the same time giving her a smart slap upon the cheek with her band «f ^ ]^ra re ti ed and hid her face in her apron, while Escape felt as if a red-hot ball was lun- ning from his chest to his throat and back again. "As for you. Sir," she continued, turnmg to Escape, "you may thank your stars Ihat I am dressed or I wo'.ld cutF you mysef lor your imper- tinence. You are getting a little too much^^of master ^J_ackjs_^sauce,^a^^^ he may be sure me he shall ing )u are setting a little too mucn oi iiicthLci o^^r. = .<.<..^^, .-^^ -^ 3 that if he repeats any of his offensive language and conduct to be tumbled out of 'the house neck and crop-so take warn- My dear, you are too hasty !" interposed Woulds ^ "Am 1 1" cried Mrs. Woulds, turning upon hira like a wda cat-her eyes sparklin- with fury. " Am I ! Mr. Woulds ? Beware, I warn you. Sir, to be- Se My temper is not very bad, not like yours-it may be bad, bu not so bad as yours, I thank my stars. But beware. Sir ; once roused, you 11 find it not so easy a matter to quiet me again." '^^^.^^::^.^o^^^r continued the lady her P-sion kindUng at every sentence, " because I endured, out of the goodness of my temper, ^^yX:ut';;f the goodness of my temper!" repeated M^ W^j darting a malignant glance at her unfortunate spouse who s too a in rnule despair " I s;7fl^eredvou to bring brats into the house be bngmg to the loid Sw'who tLt they shall bcarcf me insolently in my f^ they eatinff my bread : don't believe it, Mr. Woulds. I'll not put up ^^.^h it let the^onsecfuences be what they may ; and, if it continues, I'll lead you the life of ''^^t^l:^^, prayhavedone!" said Woulds, in . soothing tone; " Escape did'nt mean to offend you, did you, my boy ? Escape's head was bent to the ground, he shook it, but " ei f rio sound « And I dare say Jack has only Bomething to ask me a!,ou the Packinj case that he is making. Come, come, you;ll have Mr. Dowlass here, and he will be very much surprised at the flustration you are im althouirh «' Dont tiilk to me, you old briitc i" exclaimed Mrs. Woulds, taitly, alinougu •0 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF the last observation had some effect upon her; "you did it on purpose to make me ill because you knew I expected him." Rat— tat-tat-tat-ta — Rat-tat-tat — Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-te-rara ! came at the street-door with thundering volubihty. All in the room started, " And there he is " said Woulds, departing for the workshop, followed by Escape, who in his turn was followed by Barbara. Mrs. Woulds ruihed to the glass, and the servant maid to the street-door. When Woulds entered the workshop he found Jack working desperately, the packing-case was half completed, and he was sending the shavings flying in large quantities ; the perspiration was standing in large drops on his fore- head, and so intent was he upon his occupation that Woulds had remained standing near him full five minutes ere Jack was aware of his presence. " Well done, Jack !" said Mr. Woulds, " if you always work hke that you'll make a fortune very soon." " I am afraid. Sir," replied Jack, " that it will be but a poor fortune that I shall make at handling the saw and plane." " Why not?" asked Mr. Woulds. " I can see enough here of your work within this half-hour to assure me that you have speed and capabihties to fit you for any — aye, the best situation which the trade owns, and it will be your own fault, as I have often told you, if you depart from the path you ought to pursue. You know best whether you have strength of mind to resist the temptations of gay society, and follow a course of industry and honesty, and prove your own friend, and one to those who have a just right to expect good conduct from you in return for what they have shown to you in a time when you most needed their aid. This advice is what I have given you over and over again. I know very well that you may take a horse to the water, but you cannot make him drink ; therefore I shall say but little more about it. I have done my duty as a master — and I think as a friend — by you hitherto ; I shall continue to do so as long as I can conscientiously ; and when you lose me. Jack, you will have only your own conduct to condemn as the cause. But enough of this : you have sent for me — so Escape tells me — in order to com- municate something to me. Pray what is it. Jack ?" Jack had listened quietly to the reoiarks of Woulds, although it was mth a dull and almost sullen visage. He hated lectures, as he termed them, and his brow partly cleared up as he had the question respecting the subject he had to communicate put to him, " Did you ever have a master-key ?" he asked. " Yes," replied Woulds. " Did you ever lose it ?" inquired Jack, looking hard at his master. •' I did," answered Woulds ; " that is to sav, 1 believe it was stolen from me ; and God forgive me if I speak wrongly, I do think it was your father who took it." "Was this it?" asked Jack, holding up the master-key already Woulds looked at it, while a light broke over his countenance as if he had suddenly met with and recognised an old friend from whom he had been se- parated many years. He seized hold of it, and exclaimed— " It IS my key, which I have missed for so many years. Tell me. Jack, how IS It possible you could have gained posses/,ion of it ?" " Do you know a man of the name of Skyblue ?" asked Jack. "I do, the rascal!" replied Mr. Woulds, " and with some cause to do so. 1 met him the first night I saw Escape, and ended mv acquaintance with the villain the ensumg morning, after he had tried hard to rob me of Darwell, then » little child, sleeping in my arms ?" "Do you know Jonathan Wild ?" asked Jack earnestly. JACK SHEPPERD 6l '* Yes," replied Woulds ; " I met him on the same night I encountered Skjrblue. I hardly know which is the greater rascal — Jonathan is the sharpest. But whjr are you asking me all these questions ?" he demanded, somewhat struck by the earnest manner in which Jack questioned him. " He is a fair man, sharp nose, eager eyes, and a cunning, sneering look about his face," continued Jack, disregarding the question. " The very man ; you describe him to the life, Jack," returned Woulds, who was growing interested in the singularity of Jack's questions ; " but I hope," he continued, with a little alarm depicted on his features, " that it was not him from whom you obtained this key ?" " I can't exactly say that it was Jonathan "Wild," replied Jack, " but that is the sort of man as I describe who gave it me, and Skyblue called him his friend, and by the name of Jonathan." " It must have been him," groaned Woulds ; " but how could he have got it, after a lapse of so many years ? How did he give it you ? — with what pur- pose ? — and where ?" he questioned rapidly. Jack related to him the circumstances, with which the reader is already ac- quamted ; and Woulds, when he came to reflect, remembered Mrs. Shepperd^ on the night of the terrible storm, mentioning to him a packet which Tom Shepperd, the father of Jack, had requested might be given to him, and which Mrs. Shepperd had stated she had lost. " That must have been the packet, then," said he, as Jack mentioned the well-worn packet from which Jonathan had drawn the key ; " and that vaga- bond, Jonathan Wild, must have stolen it on that identical night, and now wants to rob my bouse through your assistance, Jack : but I warn you to be- ware of him — for I do not believe you would dream of plundering a house which has been a home to you for so many years — beware of Jonathan Wild. It is said, and I am certain it is truth, that his friends and coadjutors he in- variably brings to the gallows, when he has made them to serve his purpose. Beware ot him. Jack ; he brought your father to the gallows — he has sworn to bring you to it 1 You have need of every caution to prevent the accom- plishment of his oath, for I know enough of the scoundrel to be assured that when he makes up his mind to obtain an object, the circumstances must in- deed be extraordinary which will prevent him accomplishing it. He has be- gan the/r5^ step with you, beware of the second. I am sorry the proofs are so slight of his guilt, or, as sure as I am headborough of this district, I would have him before the magistrates before I am a day older." " He'll hang me. will he !" cried Jack, with almost a disdainful toss of the head : " we will see about that ; let him beware I do not get him tied up. Now, master, if you will but let me do as I wish, I've a plan which shall fit him for the hangman's noose so sure that if I miss I'll take his place as sure as my name's Jack Shepperd," "No, no," returned Woulds, "that will not do, Jack; we must have nothing of that sort. I am plain and straightforward in my line of action. I know what you mean to do, but I cannot suffer anything of that sort to be done with my sanction." " But something must be done," cried Jack. " What am I to say to him when I see him V' *' What need is there for you to see him at all ? The public-house where you first met him is not a place for you, and will do you an injury which nothing will or can repair. Be advised by me ; seek a pleasure in that which when enjoyed will bring no blush to your cheek or regret to your bosom ; and eschew all company which you cannot meet at all times, in all places, and ac- knowledge witli pride and pleasure whenever you may do so. Believe me, it will be well for your welfare here, and better for your soul hereafter. With 62 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF regard to this affair, I will consult with a friend of mine,*and you shall know in the morning what course I shall wish you to pursue. And now, Jack, go on with your case, and when you have finished it bring it into the parlour to me. You have behaved like a Efood lad so far as acquainting me with your posses- sion of the key, and I will reward you for it." So saying he turned round and quitted the workshop. " Ah ! " muttered Jack, as he was left by himself, and proceeded rapidly with his work, " it 's always the way — they will never let me do as I v/ish, and everybody has got a cursed Ion;? sennon for me. Never mind ; but I will have my revenge out of Jonathan Wild, or I'll tie the noose for myself in the rope which he 's to hang me with." ■•'. .U\<.\': U'.ft ■ CHAPTER VIII. MR. DOWLASS AND TWO FRIENDS. Mrs. Woulds' heart, as we have said, or meant to have said, beat as loud as the knocks upon the door, when their heavy strokes fell upon her ear ; she looked in a glass with a hasty glance, ran her hands over her head-dress, smoothed her apron, looked at her right-side, at her left-side, and turned round to her back, to see that every part and portion of her dress was in prime and proper order: she then seated herself in her chair, and, composing her- self to a certain quiescence and position, awaited the ushering in of the desired guest by the servant maid. An unsteady rattling and scufflmg, as if of many pair of feet, sounded upon Mrs. Woulds' ear. It could not be Mr. Dowlass, or Mr. Dowlass could not be alone ; and if not Mr. Dowlass, who could it be ? Her speculations were set at rest by the entry of Mr. Dowlass, followed by two very equivocal-looking gentlemen. She rose with an air of studied grace, yet with a look of disappointment. She had expected Mr. Dowlsss to come alone ; and although she met the strangers with politeness, yet it was more than counterbalanced by the coolness with which she received the advances ■which they made to her immediately upon introduction. She gave Mr. Dow- lass a glance, who, if he had been gifted with the smallest possible amount of perception, could not have mistaken its meaning, and who, to do him justice, was not very dull in the possession of that faculty; he therefore "instan- taneously perceived that the company of his friends was anything but de- sirable, and i,hat it was likely to affect the gracious light in which he himself was to be considered. He felt rather disagreeably situated, for he coidd think of no means of sendmg the two persons away. They were almost strangers to him, having only met them that very morning at the Mintmaster's^si- dence, where he had been to transact some business connected with the T're- tender, both himself and the Mintmaster being staunch followers and sup- porters of that unfortunate Prince. They had been drinking punch together all the morning, and upon the mo\'ement*made to depart by Mr. Dowlass— or Captain Eliason Dowlass, as a commission which he had obtained from the Pretender styled him— he was very generally requested to remain, and net leave good liquor and good society ; but Mr. Dowlass hiccupped that when "a lady was in the case ^\\ other things must give place," therefore he was sure that they would excuse him. The gentlemen laughed and swore they were men of gallantry themselves ; they admired it in others ; that they not JACK SHEPPERD. 6., only admired his resolution, but applauded it; and to show the high sens they entertained of his conduct, they would accompany him to see this charmer, whose beauty was so potent as to draw a man — and a captain — from good fellowship. It was in vain that the gentleman protested he would be quite satisfied with the sense of approbation which they evinced, without their exercising so great a stretch of complaisance as to accompany him on his visit; it was in vain that he tried to persuade them not to encounter the fatigue of so long a walk, or forego the pleasure they must derive from a carouse with the Mintmaster. The two strangers were not to be convinced or persuaded. If Captain Dowlass vvent to visit the lady, they could do no less than go with him ; if he thought better of it and remained, they would still find the great- est pleasure in his society, and have a merry night of it — four jolly dogs, as they were. Thus, then, in spite of all he could say or do, the strangers would not leave him, and he could only trust in Providence for some mode of getting quit of them. He had reached, as described, the room which contained the lady, without Providence having as yet taken his case into considei-ation. Mrs. Woulds turned her eyes upon the two persons who accompanied Mr. Dowlass with distrust and suspicion. They had been introduced to her under the respective names of Jones and Brown; and Mr. Woulds honoured them with a close inspection. Mr. Jones was not a very tall man, but appeared to be a very ugly one. He wore a wig which had originally been made for a person whose cr.-,nium must have been about four sizes larger than his own, the effect of which capacious head-cover was that the point of it reached the nape of the nose, while the two sides rounded off over each eye, just leaving them visible — or at least one visible ; for one of them was decorated with a black patch, and left all the business of looking about to the open one; which, from its restless, roving movement?, performed the office of two to admira- tion. Upon the wig, which a want of good manners still kept it in its situation, was a large three-cornered hat, which was occasionally drawn over the visible eye ^vith a knowmg- air ; a cravat round the neck of such capacious dimensions and so loosely tied round that the chin and lower part of the face to the nose was frequently hid from the view, deeply sunk in its recesses ; a large fuH-skirted coat hung like a sack upon his body : and a pair of thin legs were habited in knee-breeches and worsted stockings, bemg teiminated at the feet by a pair of shoes and buckles. There was an air of easy assurance and cool impudence about hiiu which generated a dislike to him immediately upon hia introduction : his friend was, if possible, more repulsive than himself. Mr. Brown ought to have been styled ilr. Blue, for his face appeared to have received the contents of a gunpowder flask, which had exploded and coloured his features a bright blue. Mr. Jones was ugly, it has been said, but Mr. Brown was hideously so : he had a very broad nose, so widely spread over his face that it was impossible that nature in her wildest freak could have pro- duced so monstrous a nasal organ, it was not a natural production, but an artificial one, probably produced by a blow with a mallet : his mouth was on an extensive scale, putting one in remembrance of the entrance to a large cavern. The lips were in proportion, and the few teeth remaining were of a variety by no means agreeable, varying in length, in shape, and colour; the nearest approach to white they possessed was exhibited in one of the front teeth, and that one was of a deep amber ; and it is as well to remark that it was necessary to keep to windward of him, his breath being of that pecuhar odour and flavour which excited, when coming over the nostrils, a honor and disgust which produced sickness and faintness. His dress was similar to his friend Jones's. His wig, hat, and cravat, being of the same proportions, and having the same effect, His manners were inlinitely low, and his vulgar as- 64 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF surance, if possible, greater. Messrs. Jones and Brown, threw themselves upon chairs, with their dirty shoes resting upon the vacant seats ; and Mr. Jones did Mrs. Woulds the honour of bestowing, with one of his eyes, as impudent and long a stare as ever female, be her character what it might, was ever subjected to. The reader must know, from former occurrences, that the lady was not gifted with a remarkably patient, mild temper ; and as her sur- vey of the two strangers had been anything but satisfactory to her feeUnga, the lacivious gaze which Mr. Jones did her the favour to bestow, had the effect of rousing up the devil within her ; and returning his stare with a glance, which, if he had been made of easily perishable materials, would have withered him up to a non-entity like lightning, she turned to Mr. Dowlass, and giving him a pinch which made him as sick as death, and exclaim in a low tone of excessive agony, " My dear madam !" she inquired why she had been favoured with the company of his two friends. As she had seized hold of a very small piece of flesh, and still vigorously kept up the compres- sion of her nails, the countenance of Mr. Dowlass went through a variety of contortions and grins, exciting an appearance of immense enjoyment in Messrs. Jones and Brown, who witnessed the little famiUarity which Mrs. Woulds took with Captain Dowlass' arm. " My dear madam," he answered, endeavouring to rescue his arm from the digits of the carpenter's wife. " My dear madam, I will tell you, if you will oblige me by first removing your fingers ; I have the rheumatism in my arms, and your little playfulness rather affects it — indeed pains me," he said, as Mrs. Woulds gave him a parting twinge which went to his heart. •' Well, Sir, and what are they?" inquired Mrs. Woulds, with evident ill- t emper, and in a voice which she took but little pains to make an undertone. " Friends to King James, they are from across the water, and have come to negotiate some important business," replied the Captain. "Friends to the King?" echoed Mrs. Woulds, with surprise, "and such shabby, vulgar-looking persons ? Impossible ! " " It is true, my dear creature, I assure you," returned Dowlass, endeavour- ing to conciliate the cross-humoured dame. " They are travelling in disguise," he continued ; " and not being much ac- customed to the manners of this country, they preserve their incognito, and affect the conduct of the peasantry of their own." " Then," rephed Mrs. Woulds, " they are probably people of title in their own country." " Most probably," answered Dowlass, with an affectionate leer. " Very high people ?" asked the lady. " Very," returned the gentleman, who saw with much satisfaction the lady's countenance clearing up, and a gracious smile play over her features. " Gentlemen," she cried, turning to Messrs. Jones and Brown, " you are welcome. I feel proud of the honour you do me by visiting my humble abode." " Pray don't mention it. Ma'am," said Jones. " Don't say a word about it," observed Brown. " If you will do me the favour to excuse me, I will order some refresh- ment," said Mrs. Woulds, dropping a curtsey. " You are very good, Ma'am," said Mr. Jones. " You're a regular trump. Ma'am." ejaculated Mr. Brown, and received a dig in the ribs from Mr. Jones for his observation. The lady stared, Dowlass looked confused, Mr. Brown spiteful, and Mr. Jones remarked " that his friend had picked up some strange terms since he had been in England (for he had overheard the colloquy between Mrs. Woulds and Dowlass), and he JACK SHEPPERD. 11 Til f:-yliiy| ' C irse uie'it' I'll made use of some of them unrler the idea that they were pleasin/]ass upon the table, and fell back to his old place by the side of Barbara, who felt a great inclination to embrace him, but her maidenly modesty quite prevented her from doing so. "Godbless thee. Escape!" said Mr. Woulds, while the water rushed to his eyes, and prevented him sayins more. Mrs. AVoulds grew furious, and waged war m style. Jack Shepperd, who had been listening almost with glee to the controversy, suddenly heard his name whispered by Mr. Brown to Mr. Jones, coupled with a question, which Jack understood directly. \^hether he was not the cracksman's kinchin that was to help them frisk the crib?" Jack looked hard at both instantly, and started as he recognised Messrs. Jmies and Brown, as previous acquaintances very much disguised ; and he shuffled up close to his master, and said, " Sir, I want to say a word to you." " Not a syllable," shouted Woulds, in a voice of thunder. " Take that case home instantly, to where i^. is directed, or I'll lay a stick about your shoulders-^^ in such a way that you shall dance without music !" and so saying, he pushed Jack from htm. , . , •. • i r " Escape," cried Jack, "come here, I must speak with you, it is only for a moment. " No," said Escape, " you have done wrong, I cannot speak to you— at all events, now." Jack muttered an oath between his teeth, and turned round as a last resource, to his mistress ; and he then saw the one eye of Mr Jones was watching him like a lynx, and he returned the gaze steadily and coolly. He turned from him to Mrs. Woulds, and saying— " If you please, madam, may I speak two or three words to you . " What can you possibly want to say, now?" said Mrs. Woulds, tartily. " Don't you know that it is very rude to whisper in company ? but you were always an unlicked cub, there's no teaching you good manners ; however my friends, will excuse the way in which your master has brought you up, and as he has not the good-nature to hear you, why, for this once, 1 do not muid listening to whatever you have got to say, if it is not too long . Jack, overjoyed at hearing a permission to disclose his secret, '^^nie has ily towards her, and Mr. Brown, acting on a suggestion which was telegraphed from the one eye of Mr. Jones, put out his foot, and Jack and Packing-case, fell plump into the lap of the astonished lady; who, kindly ^\^^J^^ In- tended to receive his communication, had no expectation of receiving hm and his box, in her arms, after that fashion. She was nearly overthrown l,y the shock, and she heard something tear; visions of disa.. ringed ^-^^^^-^l crossed her imagination, and stretching out ^ev left-h^^^^^ jnd found Jack's ear, which she ^^''J^^Zf'JZJ^^ o celhim out =rS;i :Z;:^:on^ face; ^d tben, springing uj^^heorc^hun^u of the room-nearly pushing him down stairs, and thicw his FcKin^__ -^ ier him. When Escape sa nished; and springing afl larting and chafing under „ ,, ■ ; .-oci- " Are you hurt. Jack ?" he inquired, with inteiest ^^ .'Oh,Ln'taskme," said Jack, spurning ^Inmfomhm. ^^ / 3- ^-^^ smarting and chafing under the cufhng he had just leceneu. ., . ° 1 . i„_i -,'> v,,^ ;r.r,,i;rpfl with interest. . , hanged if ever I try to do a good action again. ,^ o h^Apmner his wife is." " D n her !" mut ered . I Jack. ■ - p ' ■> .. .[ ■ ,, ^ix^ nhpr'' mutiereu .J iiLts.. a bad temper his wife is." D— « he • m ^^^^^ ^^^^ ^.^ ^^^^.^^^ "And therefore," continued Escape, )ou buuu by drinking that toast. But what did you want to say; tell me. Jack, sorry for my coolness." ^ tell master '° it&capTwa; retnrmnR to .he supper-room, he me. Barbara, who had jus. left it with the intention ot meelmg hm j^,,^,^^ j^^^_ „^ sp;;»rm, i™ ;t ir^ra^-he .j^.^j^^ ^ '».'.- >. . aa 70 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF not think you would have done, for he did not deserve it ; you are too good- natured to him. I am afraid you will have cause to repent it some day. Why is it that you like him so much?" inquired Barbara. " I think of whose child he was — of the situation he has been placed in from infancy — and I, feeling my own state, which is similar to his, sympathize with him," returned Escape. " Besides, when you know Jack's temper properly, you will think better of him. He is wayward and wilful, I confess, but he possesses a kind, generous heart, and would serve to the death any one who had done him a kindness." " But he has a bad temper," suggested Barbara. " Why, look you, Barbara," replied Escape, earnestly, " when he was first brought to this house he was looked on as an interloper, to use the mildest term, by your mother ; and, you know, although she is your mother, the truth mnst be told, that where she takes a dislike, or conceives she is not treated with a respect which she imagines is due to her, she has no considera- tion, and inflicts her wrath without discrimination. Not possessed of sen- sitiveness or delicacy of feeling herself, she does not allow for it in others, and wounds in the tendcrest part without a reflection or care for the anguish it may cause. Poor Jack has been the victim of this want of consideration. If ever he exhibited any wildness or tetciyness of conduct, he was immediately reminded of his parentage, of his dependent situation, and usually thrashed because he dared to be other than perfection. You would have found Jack a different lad if he had been differently treated ; if he had been led by kind- ness into good behaviour, instead of an attempt being made to beat him into it,'; there v.'ould have been no cause to complain of him. Jack had a proud, high spirit, which will not brook being forced into anything if he considers it tsamples on his feelings. This pride has never been acknowledged and allowed for, and therefore he has sought a path which, although a wrong one, is the only one in which he can show his independence of feeling; his pride is stronger than his reason, and as this has never been understood he has been charged with having a bad temper, because he resisted being put upon." " But you never showed so mulish and sullen a temper as Jack does some- times," said Barbara, looking at him affectionately in the face. " If I have not, why is it ? because I have been treated better than him by everyone. Every one, more or less, at all times have shown me kindness. Who ever speaks a kind word to Jack ? Who has ever attempted to enter into his feelings, to sympathize with him, and endeavour to eradicate the notion which the cold, indifferent, and harsh conduct of those around him have im- planted in his breast, that he must be bad in his nature, or they would not act 60 unkindly always towards him, and lead him to believe that he has no good- ness or virtue in him, and that he must go wrong in spite of himself? None ; there is much less to wonder at in Jack's conduct than you all imagine, and there are others who little think that, whatever Jack's sins may be, hereafter, that a great share of the blame is attributa])le to themselves." " Father has always been kind to him," said Barbara. " True, but the kindness has always been accompanied by lectures. If Jack did anything to please him he was not content with praising him, but im- mediately knocked down all the good effects his praise had raised by a long lecture of what he might be if he only would be so good alwai/s ;" thus adding to Jack's belief that it was something extraordinary for him to do anything which could excite praise. Jack has always been treated as the black sheep of the flock— for why ? Why should I be treated better than him ? Why should Jack be kept at a distance, and I made as much of as though I was your mother's own child?" " Oh ! but you are so diifcrent to Jack," said Barbara, in an earnest tone. JACK SHEPPE-D,' 71 without knowing how love had ousted justice. Escape was not so blind, he detected the truth ; and while he felt that his heart acknowledged the un- conscious and innocent confession, his principle would not permit it to pass unquestioned,. and he replied — " Yes, dear Barbara, I know it ; perhaps Jack and I should not be so attached to each other if we were more alike, but remember the cause of the difference in our actions is the difference of our education, and, perhaps, you will acknowledge Jack's generosity of conduct in comparison with mine, when you learn that he has staid with your father till now only because he remembers how very kind he has been to his mother ; and he felt that it he consulted his own inclination and left he would have given them both pain, and rather than do that he has put up with all the slights, blows, hard words, and unkind allusions, at which I have seen him shed a passion of bitter tears. For myself I cannot endure it ; I cannot bear to be reminded of a dependant situation, of which I am the unfortunate victim, not springing from any conduct of my own ; and to be reminded of it, too, in such a way as I have been to-night, my spirit will not let me and, Barbara, by to-morrow's dawn, and I quit this house, perhaps, for ever." Barbara, who had listened quietly, yet interestedly, at Escape's defence of Jack's character felt her heart beat quick as he came to the conclusion of his speech, and when he finished she seemed quite lost in surprise and painful astonishment. " Leave here for ever. Escape," she faintly said ; " impossible, you cannot mean it ; you will break my heart if you do. Ah, no, you do not mean it." " Indeed, Barbara, I am determined," answered Escape. " It is not the first time your mother has said these harsh things — it will not be the last, if I remain. I cannot bear them. A sword passing through my bosom, or a bolt passing through my brain, could not create a fiercer pang than her stinging allusions ; and for you, dear Barbara, you think too kindly, and you do your judgment an injustice. I will not wrong your tender disposition so much as to suppose you will not feel at first some sadness at my absence, but when time shall elapse the feeling will moderate, and all I ask — all I expect — and believe me, Barbara, all you will feel — will be but a kind remembrance of one who has the strongest reason to bear with him the deepest gratitude, the very dearest recollection of you, who always had a kind word and a smile for him when with you, and thoughts he was unworthy of when he was away." " Escape, Dear Escape !" said 15arbara, the tears full in her e3'es, "you must not leave us. Father will not part with you ; and mother, who, I know, did not mean what she said — will not let you go — and I — I — shall lose the kindest friend — the only one I you must stay, indeed. Escape, you must ! Alother has forgotten what she said — she did not mean to hurt your feelings — she would grieve to lose you, I know; and, more than all— Jack Shepperd," and she faintly smiled, " will lose his best friend — aye, indeed, his best friend — • and for poor Barbara, who will there be, to be the kind friend jiou have been ?'' "Jack Shepperd," said Escape, taking her hand. " Who?" asked Barbara, as if she doubted her hearing. " Jack Shepperd !" reiterated Escape. " Jack Shepperd !" echoed Barbara, almost scornfullj', and turning her head away. " Aye !" replied Escape, "Jack Shepperd is much attached to you ; indeed I am sure he loves you. It is true, he never said so, but I have seen his eyes follow you with an expression of admiration the most intense ; and JacJi's eyes can express his feelings in a language far more powerful than his tongue ; and when he has spoken of you his voice has changed its tone, and his man- 72 ' THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF nere their rough carelessness ; and all those little boxes and articles which you have received as presents from me, and occasionally as joint presents from us both, were mostly made by Jack entirely, and all were finished off by him, for I have not talent. He would not suffer me to mention it, nor, that many an hour after midnight he has sat working at those things, with all the care and cheerfulness, as though his future happiness depended upon the beauty of their construction." " He may have them all back again." thoucht Barbara, but the words, although they rose to her lips, she could not utter ; her heart was full ; and she could not" help acknowledging to herself, the expression would be an un- generous one ; but her interest in the gifts, when she discovered that they were not wholly and solely the make and gift of Escape, was destroyed for evar. " Will you not speak to mer" asked Escape, as a dead silence was pre- served for a few minutes. ** You will not leave without acquainting father of your intention ?" said Barbara, making an effort to speak steadily. " Certainly not, Barbara ;" he replied, " I could not be so ungrateful, after all he has done for me, to leave him in such a manner." " Then he will not suffer you to go, I am sure," cried Barbara, her coun- tenance brightening. " You are mistaken," said Escape, with a smile. " I know him better, and when I state to him how i feel myself situated, he will not prevent me, I am convinced ; but had we not better return to the supper- room? our absence may be noticed, and any remark, pertaining to you, before those blackguards, for they are such I am assured on authority — pains and annoys me." •' You do not love me, Escape !" said Barbara, while the tears thronged to her eyeUds, and she dropped her head in bitterness of spirit." " Barbara !" ejaculated Escape. He would have said more, but his lip quivered, his heart was full, and taking her hand, he led the way to the Bupper-room in silence. As they opened the room-door, a burst of merri- ment broke upon their ears, forming a harsh contrast to the feelings they both endured. Mr. Brown had just concluded a bacctianalian song, which had created rather boisterous mirth, in which Mr. Brown himself begged leave to join as heartily, and perhaps more loudly than all the rest. Escape, who, now he. was acquainted with the proper names of Messrs. Jones and Brown, did not fail to watch them very closely, and, vulgar as he had previously deemed them, especially the latter, he now fancied he could more plainly detect the poor assumption of disguise which they had taken, and wondered he had not discovered their real characters earlier, was not quite so circumspect in his scrutiny as he intended to be, lor he found that he had attracted the attention of Mr. Jones, who had fixed his visible eye upon him with such adecided stare that when he became aware that it was not the chance glance on a casual ob- ject, he felt quite confused, and turned his head away. " Mrs. Woulds hinted at some strange occurrence connected with that boy's birth, did she not?" inquired Mr, Jones of Woulds. "Yes," returned Woulds, "and there was a strange circumstance con- nected with my receiving him ; of his birth I know nothing.'' " You had him an infant?" questioned Mr. Jones. " Quite so," replied Woulds, " He's about sixteen, I should imagine," suggested Jones. " Not so old," answered Woulds ; " but he must be near his fifteenth year." "Is there anything secret connected with his coming into your possession," said Jones, " which should prevent my asking you how you obtained him ?" " No," said Woulds ; " 1 have no objection to tell you, if you have the patience to listen ; it is rather a long story." JACK SPIEPPERD. Captain Dowlass attempts to shoot Jonathan Wild.— See page 7K. "Oh, let's have no long stories; all d d stuff," hiccupped Mr. Brown, whose face was changing rapidly from blue to a deep purple hue, and who was filling his fourteenth tumbler of gin-and- water. " Will you oblige me by speaking of what concerns you," said Mr. Jones, honouring him with a look which would have penetrated an iron slab had there been a possibility of a glance doing so. " Oh, its nothing to me," said Brown, " I thought of the lady. You may S reach sermons if you please, that is, providing the lady likes to hear them. I on' t care \vliat you do — I'm agreeable to anything. Ya-hip !" Mrs. Woulds would have felt highly scandalised by the language of Mr. Brown, if he had not, luckily, have created a saving clause for himself by considering " the lady " in his observations, and therefore his remarks were suffered to pass unnoticed by all excepting Mr. Jones, who " be^rged leave to remind him that there was something else for him to do yet besides swilling, guzzling, and making himself beastily intoxicated, and forgetting what was due to decorum and decency." Mr. Brown tossed up his head with an affected air of carelessness, and Ho. 10. y4 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF entered into a conversation with Captain Dowlass and Mrs. Woulds ; while "iVoiilds related the heads of the early part of this history, with which the reader is already acquainted, and was listened to with much interest by Mr. Jones. Upon the conclusion he inquired, with an assumed indifFerence of tone, if he knew Jonathan Wild ? "Why," replied Woulds, " I should think there were few who did not know so infamous a scoundrel." Brown laughed immoderately at this, and Dowlass joined him heartily although he wlis unacquainted with the real motive which induced Mr. Brown to cachinnate so vociferously. " What do you mean ?" asked Mr. Jones fiercely. " Do you know you are speaking of an officer of Government — one of his Majesty's ablest officers.'' " Oh, yes," retorted Woulds drily; " ' set a thief to catch a thief — you know the proverb." " D — n the prorerb !" roared Mr. Jones; •' Mr. Wild is a friend of mine, and I will not hear him abused in his absence." " In his absence !" interrupted Escape. " Yes '." he cried, turning sharply round, and, fixing a steadfast gaze upon Escape, regarded him for a minute without speaking, as if he would read him through ; but Escape's mettle was up, and he returned the gaze fully and ferrlessly. Mr. Jones did not appear exactly satisfied with his observations, but turned his head slowly away, and continued — " In his absence. If you have anything to say against him, wait till he is present, and in his own proper character; he can then answer for himself, and that may not be long first." "No," said Mr. Brown, with a stifled grin upon his uncommonly ugly face, and, echoing his friend's words, cried, " that may not be long first." " Well," observed Mr. Dowlass, " if Jonathan Wild honours either of you gentlemen with his friendship, if you are not above receiving honest advice, you will cut his acquaintance, and that as speedily as you can find it conve- nient to do so." " May I ask why r" inquired Mr. Jones. " AVithout doubt you may, and I will tell you," responded Mr. Dowlass. " If you know much of Mr. Jonathan AVild, you will know that since he has turned thieftaker he has strung up above a dozen of his friends and coadjutors. I know something of the gentleman." "Do you?" said Jones. " Yes," replied Dowlass. " I have to thank him for a good many traps which he has laid for our party, and myself among them ; but, thanks to sharp wits, we have baffled him in every one, and shall yet : we shall trick him yet ! " " You think you will ?" said Jones. " I do," answered Dowlass : " and allow me to express surprise that you, professing to be of our party, should be friends with a declared enemy to us." " Oh ! " replied Jones, " but he does not know my sentiments on that point ! " " It is well he does not," remarked the Captain ; " for, notwithstanding his expressed friendship for you, he will do his best to measure your neck with a rope — I believe he makes a boast of it. Now, there is one fellow, who is a kind of jackall to him, named Joseph Blake, but called familiarly Skyblue. They are always together — Wild and this Skyblue ; the latter hunts out the game, and the other catches it. He has been of the greatest assistance to Jonathan, and yet I am assured that Jonathan Wild, before the close of next Old Bailey Sessions, will cause this same fellow to be twisted ; indeed, he has said a? much." " Will he r" remarked Mr. Brown, with some anxiety in his countenance JACK SHEPPERr; 75 •' but this Mr. Skyllue may let out a few things which would take Jonathan along with him to the nubhing chit." " No fear of that," laughed Dowlass ; " he has so much the ear of the Court, that they would pay no heed to what the poor devil might let out or say; they would not believe him." " Ha ! ha ! ha !" chattered and grinned Mr. Jones, with evident satis- faction. " A knife might reach him upon th« first hint of his treachery," suggested Mr. Brown. " I doubt that, too," said Dowlass ; " Jonathan does not work with sleepy eyes." " You, at least, give him credit for sharpness," said Jones ; " but you have given us advice — now I should advise you to bev,-are of him, for you say he is your declared enemy, and therefore you are in much the greater danger." " I think not," said Dowlass : " I know his subtlety, and am prepared at every turn for him ; while you, who ai-e his friends, will have him pounce upon you when you least expect it." During this colloquy Escape had managed to get round to Mr. Woulds' chair and communicate Jack Shepperd's information to him. Mr. Woulds started rather hastily when he understood whom he had been entertaining, but did not quit his place, for he hesitated rather how to act. His co^^itations were broken in upon by Mr. Jones, who exclaimed, after obliging Mr. Dow- lass with a peculiar laugh for his observation — " You have told me something respecting that boy — now I will tell you something. Suppose I were to say that the vindictive pursuer you told me of, and whom you imagined was destroyed by a shower of bricks, were alive ! " " Impossible !" argued Woulds ; " the falling mass was so enormous that he must have been buried under it, and dashed into the river. On such an awful night, with such a terrific wind boiling up the torrents and eddies, it must have been more than a miracle which preserved his Ufe. " But you escaped ?" suggested Jones. " True," replied Woulds ; " but although exposed to excessive danger, I was not placed in a peril such as he must have been the victim of." " Nevertheless, he did escape," said Jones coolly. "Escaped!" echoed Woulds ; " how do you know that ? where is he ?" " You shall learn all in good time," said Jones. " Let me ask. What is your intention should you meet with him ?'' " I'll bring the rascal to justice," cried Woulds. " Hang him ?" " Undoubtedly, if I could bring the murder of that boy's father home to him, and I almost despair of ever being able to accomplish such a desirable object." " Why r" asked Jones. " Every one who could assist me in such an undertaking perished in the storm,'" returned Woulds. " There you are mistaken again," cried Jones. " But this is not the time to talk ; to-morrow I shall be able to tell you much which may surprise you, and which may add some grist to my mill." And he rose with apparently an in- tention of departing : Mr. Woulds rose also, and said — " I beg your pardon, you cannot go yet; I have something to say to you which may surprise you ; and if you communicate all you know respecting this boy's enemy, I may forego my determination." " Wliat do you mean ?" inquired Mr. Jones, with an insulting laugh. *« Why this," returned Woulds, with an emphatic tone of voice, and draw- 76 - THE LIIfE AND ADVENTURES OF ing a constable's stafF from his pocket, " that I arrest you for felonious and treasonable practices !" and he laid his hand upon Jones's shoulder ; but the latter shook him off, and said with a taunting laugh, " Your own liquor has obscured your brain, my good carpenter — you don't know me — I have a little of the same sort of business in hand myself. Here, Joe, time 's up, out with your bracelets !" and he drew a brace of pistols from his own pockets. " Now," he continued, "Captain Eliason Dowlass, I arrest you, in the King's name, for high treason and conspiracy against the welfare of the State." " What's this ?" cried Dowlass, starting to his feet, and springing back out of the reach of Jones, who had advanced to seize him, " What do you mean ? who are you ?" " Mr. Woulds can perhaps tell you, he knows such surprising things," said Jones, with a sneer. " I can !" roared W^oulds, in a mighty passion : " you are the infamous scoundrel, Jonathan Wild ; and the rascal with you is the villanous Skyblue, the most immeasurable rascal that ever deserved to swing on a gallows 1" " Who ?" thundered Dowlass. *' Jonathan Wild !" shouted the gentleman himself. " This to your heart then !" cried Dowlass, drawing a pistol from his coat- pocket, levelling and firing it at him ; but he missed him, and the bullet shattered a small picture of Tom Shepperd, which Woulds had hung in the room." " Not this time !" exclaimed Wild, with a screeching laugh, as he sprung upon Dowlass with tremendous force, closely followed by Skyblue. To throw the gallant Captain to the ground and encircle his wrists with handcuffs was but the work of a moment to these experienced thieftakers, and Mrs. Woulds had to endure the unpleasant circumstance of seeing her favourite treated like a felon. She screamed lustily, and turning to Woulds cried — " You will not suffer this, 'Tony ? You must not — shall not. The house shall not be violated by two rascally cutthroats seizing a true gentleman as though he was a thief and murderer. Mr. Woulds, I say, I command you to make these men quit the place." " We are going now, Ma'am," replied Jonathan Wild, laughing and making her a low bow ; " and believe me. Madam, we should not have caused you all this trouble and disturbance if we had not possessed a great desire to witness your wondrous charms, of which your lover, Captain Dowlass, gave us so glowing a description, and which I am surprised to find almost equal all he said." "You're a low, vulgar wretch!" screamed Mrs. Woulds passionately; " and you are a mean-bpirited, miserable monster, to stand by and see me in- sulted in this way, Mr. "Woulds ! But, Sir, if you do not instantly make these men depart, and leave Captain Dowlass untouched, it shall be worse for you than ever you can dream of." " Mr. Wild," said W^oulds, " liberate your prisoner and begone." " W'hen the Secretary of State gives me the order certainly, but not until then," said Wild. " Yes, you will,'' retorted Woulds, drawing from his pocket the master- key which Jack Shep])erd had restored to him ; and holding it up, " you see this r" he continued; " now I have been made acquainted with every circum- stance conrecied with your share in this traneaction, and unless you release your prisoner you must abide by the consequences of your refusal, for I will use my knowledge of your conduct to the utmost of my power." " I can tell you everything respecting the parentage, situation, and of the existing enemies of Escape Darwell ;" which I will give you in exchange for what you may know about that key," said Jonathan Wild, who had been JACK SHEPPERD. rather confounded at the sight of it ; " and for Captain Dowlass, you must not interfere with my capture of him." " Mrs. Woulds !" appealed the Captain. "Mr. Wouldsi" screamed the lady, " remember what I have said — not another hour's peace shall you have if the Captain is not set free." " Release him, Jonathan Wild," said Woulds. "You are determined on that point?" said Jonathan, with a scowling visage. " I am," replied Woulds. "Then beware," he replied. " Skyblue, take ott' the ruffles. Now, Mr. Woulds, listen. There is one who, while he has a spark of life in him, when he knows that boy exists, will not rest until he has destroyed him — that boy shall be in his possession to-morrow night. And here is a bundle of letters from your good lady to that virtuous gentleman there, whom you have taken such a fancy to : and, in conclusion, I will have my revenge of you — and that is a promise I never break. And so, good night. Come, Skyblue." So saying, he walked out of the room, followed by his rascally companion. Mr. Woulds took the packet of letters with a painful foreboding, and taking them to the light, he saw the superscription of the first one was in the hand* Nvriting of his wife. He felt faint and sick as he tottered to a chair, and said — " However unequal I may have thought your temper, Molly, cross, and pettish as you are at times, I did not think you would have done this wrong to me, and used me thus frightfully ill, after all the kindness I have shown unto you." " They are not mine, 'Tony love," said Mrs. Woulds, in an insinuating voice; they must be from some lady acquaintance of Mr. Dowlass ; I am sure they are not mine :" and turning to Dowlass, she continued, in an undertone, " You fool, your thoughtlessness and carelessness have ruined me." " The rascal must have picked my pocket of them," whispered Dowlass. " You had no business to have them about you," muttered the lady in a harsh whisper. " Pray, my love," she said aloud to Woulds, who was pre- paring to open one of the letters, " Don't read Mr. Dowlass' private corres- pondence — it is so rude; and I tell you I swear they are not mine." " Molly," replied Woulds, " you cannot deceive me in that respect. I know your handwriting too well. Lord ! Lord ! why did beauty catch my eye and set to sleep my judgment ; I should have remembered that beauty without discretion is like a worthless stone set in gold.'' CHAFPER X. jack's first theft. Jack Shepperd, on quitting his master's house with the packing-case, pro- ceeded to the residence of Sir Rolend Reynnellfeyrth. On reaching it he rang the bell with a violence which made it resound with a clatter throughout the building. The door was opened by a stout porter with alacrity, who, on per- ceiving Jack only at the door, opened his eyes and asked — " Was that you who rang the bell ?" " Yes," said Jack, with an impudent nod. 7s THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " And what do you mean, you impertinent young rascal, by pulling the bell as if the house was on fire r" asked the man angrily, " Ho I ho !" laughed Jack saucily, " I know you fat, lazy coves before to- day ; if I hadn't have given a rattler at the tinkler you'd have kept me here all night," '• Why, you impudent, audacious blackguard, how dare you talk to me in that style ?" cried the man in a passion ; " I'll kick you into the kennel, you young dog, I will." " Not by this hght," said Jack; " you're too fat — your legs would be no use to you for that purpose. But I don't want to stand here chaff-cutting with you — I want to see Lady Reynnellfeyrth. Send up my compliments to her, old cauliflower sconce, and say Mr. Shepperd wishes to see her." " Well ! of all the saucy-tongued varlets 1 ever met with," cried the porter, in a perfect extacy of amazement, " you beat them all." "Except yourself, my lamb," said Jack readily; "and you would out- sauce the sauciest cull that ever rattled a red rag at a fishfag, and give 'em sixteen,'' " If you don't march oft' at once," said the porter, who coiUd kardly help smiling at Jack's impudence, " I'll just get the watch to show you the way to his shop without asking you the way home." " That's a move neither you or the watch are fly to yet," said Jack ; " but J tell you her ladyship expects me. She expects me : tell her I have brought the packing-case from Mr. Woulds, of Witch- street, Drury-lane, which she ordered by eight o'clock to-night." " Oh," said the porter, " come in. There, sit down there, young gallows- bird. You have nothing to learn — I should like to know where you went to school." " To no place that ever held you," answered Jack, " or else I should never have had a morsel of gumption," " Ughl" grunted the man, and ejaculated, as he proceeded to convey the message, something respecting " the sauciest, most niipudent, insolent, cool, impertinent scoundrel that ever he clapped his eyes on'" Jack overheard him, and called after him " Hoy !" " Well 1" said the man, stoppmg, " Do you really mean that ?" asked Jack. " Do I ? do I not?" responded the man. " Then if you will just look into a glass, you will see one who will beat me hollow," said Jack with a roguish leer. The man turned away with an impatient air and went up stairs. "While he was gone Jack indulged himself in singing snatches of flash ballads in no very piano voice. *' Cries the Pinch, as he gove a chuckling grin, ' This is the mauley for frisking a pin ! ' Says the Cracksman, ' My cull, its all very fine. But what can compare to this jemmy of mine — For cracking a crib ? Che Vo!' Now what a devil of a while the kiddy's gone; a blue moon is nothing to it! " ' A mauley or jemmy may do very well,' Cries the High Toby Gloque ; ' but, pals, let me tell You there's nothing to me like pops that ne'er fails To blaze when they're wanted— Dead men tell no tales— JJout lo«ine their blunt, Che Vo ! JACK SHEPPERD, These over-ftd servants I shall go up myself if he don't make good haste. Ihese over-ftd servants are Uke to o-well-grubbed horses— they'll only do their own work in their own time. ' But I kaow of something that 's better than all, 'Tis the tree that ne'er drops you when from it you fall ; At Tyburn it grows, and the leaves and the fruit Which it bears, cries Jack Ketch, is a rope and a brute- Dangling dead as a nail, Che Vo '." " You must not make that infernal noise, you young rogue," cried the norter appearing. " Lady Reynnellffeyrth is very lU She wants to see you, and min^d^how you beliave yoiuself when you enter ber presence." "Come at last, old sW-and-fat," said Jack, with the same saucy de- meanoTr apparently reckless of all consequences whicli his mipertmence miVht bring upon him. "Mind howl behave myself," he echoed ;" If I Toft knoTlZri shan't come to you to learn what you cannot teach me- £ause you don't know anything about it. However, which is the room, "^Thf man seemed to have his speech taken away by Jack's perfect nm- cJkL Sd eiSating " Well, I never !" he led the way to an extensive drarn-roomhan£om!ly furnish with oaken tables, carved chairs, and fur3e and ornaments o^ costly description be okemng an Sdrdwealth3' family. Jack was ushered in, and when he found himse die presence of a tall, stalely, but stern-looking man he felt an awe m tS™^ed 4e recl^^^ draw ng-room, handsomeiy xurm^^^^^ u. ^^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^^ S;TdVeaUh/?amny Jack was ushered in, a^d whence found himself in Sesrceof a tdl,^talely, but stern-looking man he felt an awe which mletelv checked the reckless gaiety and impudent humour he was in. You come from the carpenter with a packing-case," said the stern gentle- "^^^Can"'you'see I have," rose to Jack's hps, but he swallowed it and said- " Yes, Sir." " Can you pack ?" he asked, " S' proVeef at' once, and fill the case you have brought with you with those things bv that couch yonder," said the gentleman, ■ ^ c ^ Jack turned o do what he was requested, and started as he perceived for l.pantv She was still young, and still eminently lovely; Ijut, insteaa oi ner Sv excUinrthe wa m admiration loveliness should create, the illness and SSlSy'wU enveloped her made the F^cnmnan^ eelmg a^^^^^^^^^^^^ ^iust spoken with, fixed a glance of the strictest scrutiny on Jack as he placed this Sir Rolend walked to the other end ot the room, and Jack ^^a. «^ H^^^^^^^^^ by Lady Reynnellffeyrth ha.t.ly. throwing a inin.aturc »j «/^^^^^^,f '£^ ^^j • It flew open and disclosed a face exactly, to Jack's idea, like E.cape L»ar«ei!. 80 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF In another second the miniature was up his sleeve, and from thence to his pocket, ere Sir Rolend had returned to that end of the apartment. This was the Jirst theft Jack Shepperd ever committed. He soon finished packing up the case, and then he took his leave. He turned round to bow to the lady, and his heart almost smote him when he looked on her pale face and thought that perhaps her heart had a deep interest in that miniature which he had pur- loined ; he hardly knew why, unless because it was so much like a fellow- apprentice. However, it was now too late to retract; and if he had desired ever so strongly to return it unperceived he could not, for the box was packed, the lid fastened and locked, and the key in the hands of Sir Rolend Reynnell- ffeyrth. He therefore came away with the miniature in his possession. CHAPTER XI. BARBARA WOULDS. A small room in the upper part of the house of Mrs. Woulds was devoted to the two lads as a play-room, in which all their little property was placed ; their clothes, their tools, their toys, specimens of workmanship, and various articles of amusement in which their different tastes were displayed. Jack Shepperd had exhibited his in neatly executed models of Newgate, St. Giles' Roundhouse, Tyburn gallov,-s, and small houses, boxes, Sec, discovering much mechanical ingenuity; while Escape displayed his predelictions in mili- tary instruments, in books, and things which showed a taste of a much higher order than that displayed by Jack Shepperd. Many of the things were strewn here and there, Avhere satiated appetite had induced them to be thrown aside with tired indifference. A small round table was in the centre of tfie room, and seated at it busily employed was the carpenter's daughter, Barbara Woulds. She was eneaxred in drawing a face with a black lead pencil, upon a sheet of paper ; sne appeared deeply interested in the success of her occupation, for ever and anon she would raise her head to take a survey of her work, and ejaculating " No! that's not like," proceed with some bread to erase those portions which did not give the likeness of the person for whose features she was drawing upon her memory. She was a fair girl, further advanced to womanhood than her age warranted one to expect : she was not thirteen, but looked sixteen, and yet scarcely that. It was not her appearance that impressed the beholder with the idea that she was sixteen, it was her manner, her voice, her quiet, staid conduct, and the language she gave utterance to. She had full blue eyes, which were ex- quisitely beautiful, and might have been termed " laughing," had not pre- mature reflection softened the influence of thoughtless childhood, and stamped them with a softness which took from their mirth while it added to their rich- ness. Her cheeks were round and delicately tinged with the pink which, like the bloom on a peach, is descriptionless. Her complexion was as sweetly fair as her lips were transparently red, and her teeth might have lent a whiteness to alabaster. She was small and prettily made, and as she sat at her work, in- tent upon her drawing, she formed one of the loveliest, sights with which nature blesses the visions of the never-is-but-alvvays-to-be-blessed mortals. She was quite unconscious that she was the subject of any one's gaze, and went through all her little movements of " Pshaws !" and exclamations of dis- appointment, without having the remotest idea that mortal eye looked upon her. But mortal eye there was, for Escape Darwell, who had followed Jona- JACK SHEPPERD. Escape and Barbara surprised by Jatk Sliepperd. than Wild and Skyblue to tlie'-door'and seen them saft-ly out, had returned to the supper-room, and missed Barl)ara. There were still high words going, on ; charges, criminations, and recriminations, between Mrs. "Woulds and her hus- band, in which Mr. Dowlass; occasionally put in a speech, so as to dovetail any little bit which a discrepancy of statement might produce, made by the e.xer- cise of Mrs. Woulds' imagination, which she was drawing largely upon, to persuade Mr. Woulds that black was really and undoubtedly white ; which fact might easily be proved by showing that black is the absence of all colour ; and so is white. They are both therefore the same, erffo black is white. It is not meant to be said that Mrs. Woulds actually used that argument, but she did the principle; but as Mr. Woulds was rather obstinately averse to being con- vinced against his reason, a war of words was waged high and stormily. Escape was glad to quit it, which he did unnoticed, each of the three persons- being too deeply interested in their own affairs to notice his departure. He departed to his own little room, there to cogitate on the hnc of conduct which he intended pursuing. He found the door ajar, and opening it gently, he witnessed what the reader has already been made acquainted with. It ^was just eight, ^0. U. S2 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF in a June evening, the sun was setting and cast a warm mellow light into the room ; he was taken by surprise, and gazed on the picture which the whole scene presented to him, with an admiration which in a degree soothed the agitation his spirits had undergone in the last few hours. He stood motionlessly, scarcely breathing, for fear of disturbing her ; yet felt an almost irresistible curiosity to see what she was drawing ; in fact it was irresistible, for, after staying in his place some time, he advanced, cautiously and stealthily, to the back of the chair on which she was seated, and looking over her shoulder, to his sur- prise, he saw instantly a resemblance of himself, and likewise saw that she was bestowing extraordinary care upon it. He leaned over still further to obtain a better view, and nearly at the same moment Barbara raised her head, to have " You are friends ?'' she uttered, hastily. a more distant one, and observe the eflfect her labour had produced. The back of her head struck the breast of Escape. She turned quickly round, and started up with a loud scream. Escape caught hold of her in his arms and said — " Don't be alarmed, Barbara, it is only me — Escape." "Oh, Escape 1" she cried trembling, "how you have frightened me! I had no idea any one was near me :" and then, as if recollecting something, she darted to the table, and hastily rolled up the drawing she had been engaged upon. " Let me look at it," asked Escape. " Oh, no, not for the world !" she rephed, with a face like crimson. "Why not?" he inquired. *' Oh, no; don't ask me," she rejoined. " But I have seen it, Barbara," said Escape, appeaUngly ; " and saw that it was a very good, but very flattering likeness of myself. You can have no objection to let me see it now, I am sure." " Yes, I have," returned the maiden, bashfully. " It is not worthy of you. I do not like to show it you." " Nay, do not deny me, dear Barbara,'' said Escape, fervently. Barbara did not utter a word but placed it in his hand, and turned her head away. Escape looked at it with an air of much pleasure, and taking Barbara's hand, he said, in a low, soft voice — " Barbara, if I were to ask this of you, as a remembrance of one of whom I shall ever think with emotions of kindness and esteem, would you refuse me ?" " You will not stay, then," said Barbara, faintly, " I cannot," Jreturned Escape, earnestly. " Has my father given his consent for your departure ?" she inquired, with an instinctive dread that he had. " I have not yet asked him,'' returned Escape. "' Then there is still some hope that you will not go ?" cried Barbara, brightening up. " Do not anticipate it, my dear Barbara," ejaculated Escape. " I am al- most sure he will not stay me, I wish not; although I leave you behind ^me, perhaps never more to meet again." " Oh, do not say so,'' said Barbara, energetically ; " do not say we may not meet again — it is almost unkind. I should break my heart if I thought so. Indeed, dear Escape, I should !" " Nay, you must not think so," returned he; "we shall meet again; per- haps sooner, and under happier circumstances than we might expect. I hope so, sincerely, Barbara !" he added. " You will give me the picture, will you not ?" "I mil give you this instead. Escape," she answered, drawing a cornelian heart from her bosom, attached to a black ribbond. " I will give you this as a memorial, instead of the picture which I drew, to keep for myself to look JACK SHEPPEED. S* upon while you are away. I should much wish to have it ; but if you desira the picture more than this heart, you can take it..' "No no," replied Escape, "you can keep the picture, Barbara, if you wisli it. Give me the heart, and when I part with it my life must be extinct. Barbara looked in his face, her heart was full, and yielding to the ^mpulse she sunk upon his breast and wept. He folded his arms around her and kissed her forehead, xvithout having himself the power of articulation. A mi- nute of perfect silence could not have elapsed, when a pecuhar augh proceed- ing from, the direction of the door, and a voice singing the followmg words, startled them from their position. " Oh, Moll, I must leave you, they've lagged me for life, Come give me a buss," cries Tom Frisk, to his wife ; " We may meet again, if we don't, think on me. ' Can I ever forget thee, dear Tom ?' sobbed she, Napping her bib, Alas '. "Ah, ah, master Escape! that's pretty play; there's «»^y t^^« f^^" P^^^^^^^^^ that," cried Jack, with a laugh, but not a mirthful one. "^ou f^o"ld have kept the door fasl, and then you would not have been mterrupted, my tmtle '^°" Don't be a fool. Jack I" exclaimed Escape, his brow reddening with ^""Tt's like I «/« the fool; but never mind, my turn will come next," said Jack, and sung — ' Poor Tom Frisk, he had scarce crossed the blue main, Ere his Moll had a cull, so spicy again ; The first found her fickle, the second all true, The second I choose, and the first may be^^you.^ ^^ ^^^^ ^^^^^ Ho 1 ho !' " " If you do not desire a good thrashing you will not f^^Jti^ue your black- guardism," cried Escape, in a passion, disengagmg himself from Barbaia and ^'^: w'h"C'tsire a thrashing or no," exclaimed Jack, with an a^^^^^^^ ance and even excitement, for the threat was made before a female in whose eyes he wished to appear at least no coward, " you could not give it me ^^ " Don't provoke me, or you'll find to your cost hat I both can and will, retorted Escape, his eyes sparkling angrily and still dfa^ving nearei ^^ " Foh !" cried Jack, sneeringly, and snapping his fingers in h s face , a j though you are longer and bigger, perhaps stronger than me I am not a^ra^^^^^ of your licking me. Besides, I don't want to f yf^y'^iopbo it it f Baibara wi only give me one or two kisses-share and share ahke, although one Moll ^^He d"d not"^sh his sentence for he received such a blo.v between tlie eyes that he was floored like a shot, and his head rebounded with violence aga nst the floor. Barbara screamed and clasped her hands ; Jack ^o^^ed up like lightning, and darted at Escape Uke a tiger, but he ^as knocked down a se cond time, and a third time. In a paroxysm of rage and ^^1^"^ fury as ^^^^^^ the last time, he drew a large clasp-knife from his pocket, and rushed witli it open at Escape ; Barbara screamed and flew up to them "y>n.?-; . "Jack! Jack! for Heaven's sake do not murder him; you will not. Jack ""jrckTS'lSeized Escape by the throat with one hand, had the knife , g6 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF elevated to stab his opponent, but when Barbara's voice, in such agony of tone ■broke upon his ears, he turned hastily round and looked at her, with his full dark eyes, bright almost to unearthliness, and the next moment he threw the knife from him and walked to the window without speaking a word. " Leave us, Barbara," whispered Escape, after a minute had elapsed. " Oh, no,'' returned sbe, trembling, " 1 dare not, something frightful will happen." ,.-,-,. " Do not fear it ; our quarrel is over," rephed Escape. ♦• I cannot believe it," uttered Barbara, still holding Escape's hands, which, in the excitement of the moment she had seized, when Jack threw the knifa from him and walked av>'ay. " You shall see," was his answer. " Jack," he cried, " I was too hasty ; will you give me your hand '. With all my heart," replied Jack, coming from the window and shaking the proffered hand. "I don't bear malice, I was wrong too ; I forgot my conspany, and said what I hope Barbara will look over." '• You are friends :" said Barbara, doubtingly. " We are indeed," answered Escape, pressing her hands. " I can be anything you wish me, Barbara," observed Jack, with strong feeling. Barbara turned away her head, and without speaking, slowly left the room. " yhe don't care for me," cried Jack, unconsciously speaking aloud. " She don't care for me, and who does ?" he continued, walking up to the window again. " I do," said Escape, following him and laying his hand upon his shoulder. " Yes," retorted Jack, " and so it seemed when you downed me in that friendly way just now." " Don't talk about it, Jack," answered Escape ; " we were both in the wrong, let's have no old grievances." " I'm not one to rip up old sores," said Jack ; " so let by-gones be by- gones." " I do care for you. Jack, and you know it," said Escape, warmly ; " and I'll prove it by what I will tell you." He then related his intention of leaving, the substance of his conversation with Barbara, of the sketch which he still lield in his hand, and which he showed to Jack. " Well," cried Jack, "that's a strange go; I have something to show you, that is as like this as possible. It is very strange. Did you ever .see Lady Eeynnellffeyrth. " No," rephed Escape. " Who is she ?" " Do you not know her ?" asked Jack. " No ; why do you ask me ?" replied Escape. *' Look here," and Jack showed him the miniature. " Why, where did you get this r" asked Escape, examining the miniature, and comparing it with the sketch made by Barbara. " What an extraordinary resemblance !" " Yes," said Jack- "if you had known Lady Rennellffeyrth, I should have thought she'd had it done for your picture; but as you say you don't, why she could'nt. Perhaps its your father." Escape started, and then said, " Do you know. Jack, I have a strange feel- ing that such is the case. I don't know why, but 1 seem as if I was looking on my father's portrait. Did yoa get this at Lady Rennellffeyrth' s ? did she give it to you ?" Jack felt the colour rush into his face with such violence that it made his eyes water. He hesitated; and Escape, who had been gazing earnestly upon JACK SHEPPERD. 5 the Dicture not hearing him reply, turned his eyes upon him. He noticed iacks confusion directly; m an ins\ant he felt that ^^-{h^^g -/^Sfa^hir^^. sDired He knew quite enough of Jack's temper not to be aware that his na- SSimpuLncewLld prevent anything like shame at a common fault, and Se^efoT k was with a^nsciousn^ss that he should be pamed on hearmg an answer containing the truth that he reiterated his question. " Did she give it to you ?" ^^ " No," said Jack, hesitatingly, I took it. «' Trinlr it '" Cried Escape, "stole it r" _ . . r " Well, stole iUf it must be so," answered Jack, assuming somewhat cf ^^"Xk "crieTEscape, almost solemnly; « I have been your friend through .ood and evd Tyou hav; had few to act Hndiy by you and that has perhaps Se you careless, indifferent, and indiscreet, particularly the last, ^or you have found companions who will prove your greatest enemies. For all )0ur fouTts wiSi\v3 I have become acquainted I have found an excuse, the cause nTrnnsTof them sprin-rin'r from other's want of consideration for you ; but I did not^mLfne aS"riwasaware your temper would lead you into actions at whTch others ^Sd hesitate ere they committed them-I did not imagine you would have stolen anything. Jack, we have been fnends, but must remam so ""'J'wiU vou cut me, too >" said Jack, as if Escape was the last tie which held Mm to morally,' and, losing him, cared not for aught in the world beside. " I cannot have a thief for a friend," said Escape, hrmly. " What '" shouted Jack, his blood rising. r • ■ fV,. "Nav Jack," returned Escape, calmly, "it is of no use d'sgu^s^ng t^« word; [he miniature was not yours, you took it without asking f- i > withou The 'sanction or knowledge of the owner, m fact, you stole it. I here u but one wav of makmg reparation for what you have done, and to recover your llhce in my confid^ence, and that is to restore it at once to the persons from "'m cSt'tha,' it is too late," said Jack in a husky voice. " t?s never too late to make atonement for a fault," sa>d Escape, earnestly « How came you to take it > What could possibly have induced you to do so > " Whv Mistress Would's blow on the ear," cried Jack, with a gush of feeling" pu^ me into the devil's humour ; and then a dark, ill-lookmg fellow a b oSer of Lady Reynnellffeyrth's, looked and stared at me as if I was about L steal everything I was putting in the box; and 1/elt a strange eehng within me a veSg, burning desire, in spite of all his sharpness-and he had such rvesSpe-oeudeill his glances, to get something from him, if it was onlvtoouf-withim; but there was a still stronger reason, and perhaps j^tj wUl nTbelieve me but it is true, as I live. I thought it so hke you that I d;fermLeSk";'itin case we ever parted, '"^W^^^^^^^lXtZ something which would be a resemblance of you. But I'll take it l>ack agam. IlUo anything with it that you advise me to do, rather than lose your fnend- ^^^'^jS^^^;i^;r?:nSi^-S.^^;-s;if the cause. Give me the mi^^'ture I wUl Uke it back," said Escape ; " they will not touch me, they rnayTou, at all events it will be the best plan. Give it me, I will go at once '''"'/will go with you," said Jack; "if they touch you, they shaU both. You shall not get into any hobble on my account.' immediatelv ' « Come along, then." cried Escape, quitting the room, ^^^ ^^^'^'^ >™"? v 'Jhdr followed. As they descended the stairs they met Barbara : she saw by their ha Sg on they were going to.leavc the house. She grew alarmea^ 8 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " You are friends ?" she uttered hastily. *• Yes," they both cried in a breath. " Escape, you are coming back ?" she exclaimed, looking earnestly at him. " In about half-an-hour, I hope," he replied, returning a meaning glance. " I am satisfied," she replied, and bent down her head. They passed out together, leaving her standing gazing after them. In another moment they were gone, and going to her own room she flung herself upon her bed and wept. CHAPTER XII. IS A VERY SHORT ONE. " Molly, I am loath to think ill of you," said Mr. Woulds to his wife, in the little supper-room, which has already been introduced to the reader. " I cannot suppose there is evil enough in your nature to have wronged me to the extent these papers would leave me to believe. I have endeavoured to make you a happy home. I have behaved as kmdly as husband can to wife, and if your weakness has been great enough to induce you to deceive me, I can only say that your want of kindness — of feeling, amounts almost to a crime. These letters, it is true, may have been written by some one else ; women's writing may be alike. God help me ! I am no judge ; it has not been my fate to be placed in circumstances to make me one ; and as Captain Dowlass has passed me his word and honour that I am mistaken, and I have never as yet had cause to doubt his word, I must believe it springs from the malice of Jonathan Wild." " Indeed it does !" sobbed Mrs. Woulds, who felt some strong twitches of conscience, and inwardly resolved for the future that she would do better. " I am glad you exonerate me," said Captain Dowlass. " I do," said Mrs. Woulds, " and heartily beg your pardon for my mistaken surmises. Your hand. Sir," " Enough, my dear Sir," cried Dowlass, shaking hands with him, " You will come soon and see us r" observed Mr. Woulds. " I will," returned Mr. Dowlass. " And bring no such high friends again," laughed Mrs. Woulds. " Not exactly," retorted Dowlass. " I must look out sharp for that gen- tleman, that Mr. Jonathan Wild ; and if you have any desire to retain that boy. Escape Darwell, as you call him, you will not let him out of your sight. Jonathan, when he is thwarted lets not his revenge slumber. Good night. I shall be with you soon, again." " Good night," said Mrs. Woulds, in a soft voice. " Good night," said Woulds with heartiness, and Captain Dowlass quitted the house. " I'll speak to Escape at once, and put him on his guard," said Woulds; and shouted in a loud voice, " Eecape ! Escape ! but he received no answer, and he called again and again, lustily. At length, Barbara made her appear- ance ; her eyes red and swollen with weeping. [[ Where is Escape ;" inquired Mr, Woulds, JACK SHEPPERD. sf " He went out a short time since with Jack Shepperd," she repUed in a faint voice. " Went out ? " cried Woulds with astonishment. " Where ?" he de- manded. " I do not know," she answered, "but he said he should return in half-an- hour. " Oh," rephed Mr. Wouhls ; " if he will be home by that time it is not of such consequence, but tell him when he returns I wish to see him particularly before I go to bed." "Very well, father," said Barbara. Mr. Woulds and his wife retired to slumber — Barbara to weep. CHAPTER Xni. LADY REYNNELLFFEYRTH AND SIR ROLEND, When Jack had left the room in which he had committed his first robbery. Sir Rolend turned to his sister and said — " Am I to understand that you grant my request ?" " Yes," replied the lady, in a feeble voice; "but also understaud that it is to be appropriated to the cause for which it is demanded, not for the payment of your liabihties." Rolend chafed, and exclaimed angrily, " You had better state the intended application of it in your cheque." Lady Reynnellffeyrth was silent. Sir Rolend remained also so for a few mi- nutes ; he then broke it by saying — " You intend to leave for Staflfordshire in the morning ?" *' To night, I purpose reaching St. Albans, or at least Barnet, this even- ing," answered Lady Reynnellffeyrth. " Before you leave there is one question I expect you will answer me," he said, with an air of determination. Your health is very weak a sudden change of any nature, aflFecting your feelings, might deprive you of life. There is much you have to disclose — there is also property to be bestowed. It is ne- cessary, therefore, that you should make a will ; and as we are about to part, probably for some time, it is as well that you make it now, at once. " It is made," replied Lady Reynnellffeyrth. " Made?" echoed Sir Rolend, in a loud voice, starting as he spoke, " when and in whose favour ?" " You will know all when it pleases the Almighty to take me," responded his sister. " I cannot wait until then ; I must, and will be satisfied now, and of the name of that scoundrel who so vilely stained our family name." " It is false," cried the lady, the blood mounting to her cheek ; " he brought no stain upon our family name ; he was my husband, my true and lawful husband." " He was not ; it is but a rank falsehood to screen his shame and your own guilt — a base born churl ; but I avenged my injured honour," cried Sir Rolend fiercely. " As I hope for mercy, I was wedded to him !" she exclaimed with a start- ling energy, " and base-born churl he was not, for he was • " She checked herself. 8S LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Who !" thundered her brother. ♦' A Irue-horn gentleman,'' she conchided. " It is false," he cried, raging, " I will not believe it; tell me his name." " I cannot," she returned, - " You shall, I swear," he roared, almost foaming at the mouth, and half unsheathing his sword, " Ah," exclaimed the lady, " you had better complete your cruel work ; you slew my husband and child ; you are killing me with your unkind ness as fast as harsh words and cold locks can destroy ; it will be a mercy to put an end at once to all my griefs." " Will you tell me his name," he asked, sternly and unrelentingly. " Never, I have sworn to keep it secret until a certain time arrives ;" re- plied his sister firmly, "• And that time '' suggested her brother, ^" Remains as much a secret as the first," was the reply. Lady Reynnell- fFeyrth made, falling back exhausted on the couch ; Sir Rolend was about to make a furious speech when a knock sounded at the door, and his man Col- lyues entered. " Well," cried Sir Roland, turning hastily round, as a tiger might be sup- posed to do when disturbed at his prey. " A person desires to speak with you, Sir,'' said the man. " I can't see him," returned Sir Rolend sharply, " If you please, he says, his message is of much importance, and he must see you. He says, you will be glad to see him, and will repent it, if you do not," said CoUynes. " Who comes he from ?" interrogated his master. " I don't know, but he looks with a mysterious air, as if the intelligence he conveys was of the utmost consequence," answered his man, •* Take him into my study, I will be with him immediately," said Sir Rolend. the man bowed and left the room. " Alicia," said he, when Colleynes had disappeared," you know my de- termination. I will know, ere you quit this house, the name of your seducer, and the aim and purport of your will. To this I have firmly made up my mind — nothing shall thwart me. You hear me ?" " I do," replied his sister; " I do, and you shall be made acquainted with both these things " " It is well you consent," cried he, with a smile on his harsh features : "Tell me at once — I am impatient to hear." "You interrupt me," observed his sister; " you shall know all at the proper time, but not till then though you placed me at the extremest torture." Rage and fury quite took her brother's breath from him. When he could so far command himself as to speak, he ground his teeth as he uttered — " We shall see — we shall see. Beware, Alicia ; do not rouse the demon within me, or, by Hell ! I shall forget all ties of consanguinity, and force your hateful secret from you in a manner which would make you tremble only to hear." " You have forgotten all ties of relationship. When, within these last fourteen years, have you behaved like a brother ? Fourteen years of harsh words, of bitter unkindness and misery have I endured. Have I not borne your taunts, scoffing, contempt, and mockery ? Have I not, during that long dreary period of grief and wretchedness, borne your cold, cutting neglect and its opi)osite — your ragmg fury ? Have I for fourteen years had one smile, kind word, thought or deed from you ? No ! And yet you talk to me of for- ge tting the ties of consanguinity ! Had I been the veriest wretch, hardened with crimes of the vilest nature, you could not have treated me with more JACK SHEPPEFD. 89 Jonathan Wild presents to Sir Roleiid the arrest of the Secretary of State.— See Page, 92. unmitigated, unceasing severity, forgetting all ties of relationship ! A\ hen did you ever remember them ? Did our father ■ " " Peace !" cried Sir Rolend, with his brows contracted until they touched his eyelids. " However I may have acted towards you, your conduct forced me to it ; nor will I cease until I am satisfied ; therefore I shall expect on my return you will disclose everything to me," Without waiting a reply be quitted the room to meet the stranger in his study, who had been inquiring for him. As the door closed behind hira Lady ReynnellfFeyrth rose from the couch with a speed which, judgmg from her apparent weakness she would seem incapable of. She took a small silver bell from the table and rang it violently. Her maid answered the summons immediately. " Are the horses put to the carriage ?" she demanded hastily. " They are, my lady," replied the maid. " Then, Mabel, put this box instantly into the carriage, and fetch my cloak and hood. I depart this moment," said her mistress hurriedly. ^^ " Shall I acquaint Sir Rolend with your departure, my lady ?" inquirec Mabel. .No. 12. 90 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Not for worlds, Mabel ; not for worlds ! Quick — quick ! Away with you !" said Lady ReynnellfTej'rth rapidly. Mabel seemed to have speed communicated to her by the hurried accent of her mistress, and she disappeared with the box, and appeared again with the cloak, and herself attired for travelling. " Do you come with me, Mabel, now ?" inquired Alicia. " At any time — to anywhere, I will follow you, my dear lady, while I have breath in my body," " You are very good, Mabel," said the lady. " It is you that are good, my lady; you have been to me the kindest, best- hearted, dearest friend — if your ladyship will not be offended at my using the word, for you have indeed been a friend to me — that I have ever had, and may the lAlmighty jobless and protect you for it !" energetically breathed Mabel. " You are the kindest creature I have about me," said Alicia Reynnellifeyrth. " Attend me at once to the carriage; I am ready." Mabel wiped the tears from her eyes which her enthusiastic feelings had brought there, and supporting her lady they quitted the room. The carriage was drawn up to the hall door, her ladyship entered it, and the postilions obeying the orders they received, drove off with the greatest rapidity. CHAPTER XIV. THE EVIL KNIGHT AND VILLANOUS THIEFTAKER. When Sir Rolend entered his study, he found a man seated in an attitude of easy indifference, which was leisurely changed as he encountered the eye of Sir Rolend to a standing one; but it was done so coolly and carelessly that the knight felt the blood mount to his forehead, and he haughtily demanded his mission. " When you know it, and know me, you will change your tone," said the stranger, with easy effrontery. " Perhaps," returned the knight disdainfully ; " but until I do, you will ex- cuse me if I keep it." " With all my heart : I did not come here to discourse upon your manner of talking to strangers, but to inform you of some few things which may create powerful amazement even in your iron breast," said the stranger. " Will you proceed at once to it, my time is precious," coldly uttered Sir Rolend. " And mine more so," returned the stranger, with a sneering laugh ; "but yet I shall proceed at an easy pace. Look in my face. Sir Rolend. Do you remember me r" " No," returned the knight, with emphasis, after a sharp scrutiny, which terminated with a feehng of disgust at the character of the features he had perused. " The last time we met was at a Mrs. Shepperd's house, situated in the Mint, in the Borough of Southwark, on the night of the great storm, 1702." Sir Rolend started and looked again at the stranger, but still did not re- cognise him. " You were out on a human chase that night, after a man whom you imagined to be the seducer of your sister ; you missed him at the spot you JAClt SHEPPERD. 91 expected to find him : he waa prepared for your arrival, and fled with the child. You followed hard upon his track, he sought refuge in the house of Mrs. Shepperd. A man was standing at the door with her infant; the fugi- tive passed him, went up the stairs, and over the roofs of several houses, de- scended one, and escaped to St. Mary Overy's. You came up and attacked the man in the entry ; you found your mistake, and he raised the Minters . In your turn you were compelled to take refuge in the house ; but having satisfied them, through the agency of a person you met there, and at the same time learning from him the route the person you were pursuing had taken, you left the mint, proceeded to St. Mary Overy's, there you and your party took a boat, overtook the person whom you encountered in the entry of Mrs. Shepperd's house, and ultimately the fugitive himself. The child you threw overboard, but ere it had left your hand one minnte it teas picked iq) hy thQ man you had just quitted " " Ha !" exclaimed Rolend, with a sudden start. " The vengeance," continued the stranger, " you were about to inflict upon your foe, was prevented by the whirlwind sending you all struggling into the water, which was roaring and dashing with a fury unequalled. You though^ two only escaped— there were three ! whose lives were spared on that night from the boats containing the conflicting parties, and the man and child both also escaped ! I know who made the third person from your boats that escaped, and can tell you whether the child is still alive. What think you of me, now ? Will you speak in a haughty tone to me still, think you ? Whaft is my information worth r" , , , , , Sir Rolend Reynnellflieyrth, who had listened with breathless eage.rness to the man's story, felt himself eaten with curiosity, and yet possessing a strong feeling of pride which prevented his showing it." _ " Suppose what you say were true," he began, with an assumed air of coldness. . " Suppose!" reiterated the 0ther with surprise, "I knoio it to be "Well," returned the knight, "but fourteen years have elapsed since that occurrence ; what if no further inducement existed to destroy either the man or child ?" , t i 1 1 " But it does exist," retorted the stranger; " and now that I have told, you of the child's existence it is stronger than ever." " Then the child is alive ? ' said Rolend, with anxiety he could not con.cea]„ " It is," replied the other coolly. "Where?" asked the knight. " That's another question, to be answered after we have come toternnj,'» observed the stranger, with a peculiar grin, " How know you that a motive exists to keep that boy out of the waj -?" inquired Rolend. " Because your early enormous extravagancies and dissolute conduct so angered your father, that he limited your income to a fourth of its oi ig/inal amount. He altered his will in favour of Lady Reynnellffyrth, leavin g you the title, with barely a suflicient sum to support the character of a gen' Je man. You had been accustomed to extravagance; the limitation of your i ncome; therefore, threw you into difficulties, for the curtailment of your incf )me had not taught you prudence. Your sister, possessed of great wealth or . her mo- ther's side, became, by the bequest of your father, enormously ri ch. Her mind had been worked upon to espouse the cause of the Stuarts, aj id, with a woman's devotion, she supported it heart and soul. It then became ; a vehicle for Sir Rolend ReynnellflPeyrth to practise on her creduUty, on the pretence of appropriating the money to the service of King James. He drew large sums 93 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF from his sister, which truth compels me to aver his Majesty or hit agentf never saw or heard of " Sir Rolend started, and muttering an oath, clapped his hand upon the hilt of his sword. "Peace, Sir Knight," continued the stranger; " I have still more to tell you. After the fearful occurrences of the night of the hurricane, you arranged certain plans by which you still hoped to inherit your father's property. You worked successfully upon the minds of your sister and your old friend. Sir Cuthbert Greveson, who loved her devotedly from his boyhood, and they were •w«dded ; Sir Cuthbert promising, in the event of such an occurrence, to settle so large a sum upon his wife, that she would easily be persuaded to make over her father's gift of all his personal property, estates, &c., to you; but a slight counteracting circumstance arose. The marriage was never consummated. Tour hasty temper led you too soon to quarrel with Sir Cuthbert Greveson, and he refused to keep his former intention of inducing your sister by every persuasive power he was master of to acceede to your desires. Your quarrel \T as violent aud unappeasable. Some little acts of yours with regard to certain rconies received from your friend on the same pretence as you had used to .obtain them from Lady Reynnellffeyth, came to his ears and widened the breach. Sir Cuthbert was a man of honour, who scorned anything approach- ing meanness or baseness. His love for your sister had induced him to lend Hvmself to your terms with regard to the property ; but he repudiated every .dishonourable means which you would have used to facilitate the accomplish- ment of your designs. "When he discovered your character he hesitated not to give his opinion of you : recriminations ensued, and from being the greatest friends, you became the bitterest enemies. A short time after this, Sir Cuth- berth died, to all appearance by a sudden stroke of paralysis ; but I know — '' " Death and Hell !" shouted the knight, interrupting him, in a paroxysm of rage which had been gradually increasing during the recital. "Who and what are you, that know all my actions as if you were the master of my person and thoughts ?" " JONATHAN WILD !" replied the personage, with a gratified grin, as he observed the start Sir Rolend gave on hearing his name. " Jonathan Wild !" he echoed, and then drawing his sword, he cried, fiercely gnashing his teeth, " Mr. Wild, you are too public a man to be en- trusted with my secrets. What prevents me making myself secure ? — ' a sharp £teel makes short work 1' " " Yes," retorted Jonathan Wild, " but a bullet makes shorter ;" and he dr ew a horse-pistol from one of his coat-pockets, and from the other a parch- -me nt. " You see I know who I have to deal with, and came provided. This :is an arrest from the Secretary of State for you, as a disaftected and dangerous per. JO n. My men are without, and before you could count fifty, if it so pleased rae, you would be on your way to Newgate. But this is not my purpose. I havd &n insult to avenge, and it can be accomplished through the same means \which will gratify yours. The boj' — your sister's son — still lives, and is lik ?\y to do so, for he is a healthy, fine-constitutioned lad." " It ca nnot aft'ect me," cried Sir Rolend, impatiently ; " the boy is a bastard, and canm »t inherit." " You a re mistaken," replied Jonathan; "do not hug that idea to your breast ; hi» ' father and mother were married twice — once in a Protestant .church, anc ^- once in a Catholic chapel. The marriage is valid and legal in every point t 'f view. The boy can not only inherit by law, but a will is als» i tirade in his 1 avour both by his father and mother." " How knc w you this ?" demanded the knight. " That is m )t to the purpose," jeered Jonathan Wild, " It is sufficient for JACK SHEPPERD; 93 you that I know it ; and I imagine I have told you sufficient— at least to show that I am no impostor— and that you are in my power. Time is precious, therefore let us come to terms. I require fifteen hundred pounds for placmg you in possession of everything concerning your sister's husband; name, rank, and the means they employed to deceive you all in the first instance; and I will also engage to place the boy in your power, to do with him as you please ; either to silence him at once, or send him away to a place from v/hence he will never return to trouble you," " Your demand is exorbitant," said Sir Roland, glancing at a written paper containing the terms, which Jonathan Wild placed in his hands. " Not when it places above one hundred times that amount in your posses- sion, without any questions being asked," returned Jonathan, with a sneer on " Supposintr I consent, and wish the child to be sent to this place you speak of, where I shall hear no more of him, by what means will you convey him there?" asked the knight, without regarding the exprebsion with which the other conveyed his speech. , • • i, " I am the owner of a sloop," returned Jonathan, " which I send principally to Ostend, and occasionally to Holland, Flanders, Bruges, to dispose of pro- perty which comes by accident into my possession, and which persons do not set sufficient store by to give a redeeming value upon. It is commanded by a man entirely in my power and interest. He is an old thief, a returned con- vict named Roger Johnson, and will not hesitate to commit any act which I may require. If you agree to my terms, I will give him my^ directions, and will engage you never again hear of the boy. Escape DarwcU." "Ha!" cried the knight, starting, "he bears the fictitious name of his father?" " Hs does," returned Jonathan, "and " He was here interrupted by the entrance of CoUynes, who said that a lad desired to see Sir Rolend. i • i " What lad? who is he? what does he want ?" demanded the knight, an- grily. " I can't be interrupted— I'll see nobody, now." The man bowed, and said, as he turned away, " he says he comes from Mr. Wood, of Witch- street, and wanted to see Lady Reynnellfeyrth ; but, as her ladyship was not at home, I came to you. Sir." " Hold, come back!" cried Sir Rolend and Jonathan in a breath. " My sister quitted the house, did,you say ?" asked Sir Rolend. " What sort of a boy?" inquired Jonathan, at the same moment eagerly. The man hesitated for a moment which to answer first. " Speak !" cried both together again. ^^ " Her ladvship quitted the house immediately you entered the study. Sir, replied the man, answering his master's question first, and then turning to ■Jonathan, replied to him, " he is a tall, well-made, good-looking, gentlemanly boy, about fourteen." " That cannot be correct, Collynes," said the knight, who was chafing at the idea of his sister's departure, but was too proud to show it ; " the lad who was here a short time since from Mr. Wood— that is the carpenter's name, I beheve, you said— was rather cunning than good-looking, and rather vulgar than gentlemanly." " Ha !" cried Jonathan Wild, slapping his thigh vehemently, " I know— I see it all. Egad, this is strange, and as fortunate as strange. The lad you had here is called Jack Shepperd. My life on it you have lost something, and this lad has come to restore it ; and his name is — " and he approached bu: Rolend and whispered " Escape Darwell." 94 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP The knight started as if shot by an arrow, and cried " Can it be possible ? Are you sure ? How do you know ?" " I left him scarce an hour since. Here," he exclaimed, turning to Col- lynes, " desire the lad to walk in. Say nothing to him respecting whom he will see. Now, quick, away with you!" The man eyed him with surprise, and hesitated whether he should obey him, but Sir Rolend waved his hand, and he departed on his errand. " By-the-bye, I may as well get all ready. 1 will but speak a few words to my men who are without, Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez, and I will re- turn to you as soon as the boy is here," said Jonathan, preparing to quit the apartment " Hold !" cried Sii- Rolend. " On the possibility of my consenting to thig agreement, what is your intention regarding the arrest you have against me ?' " Oh, never fear ; I will arrange that satisfactorily," answered Jonathan, •' at least to myself," he added, quitting the room. Sir Rolend had not been left five minutes when Collynes returned, ushering in Escape Darwell. When their eyes met they both started. " God of Heaven !'' ejaculated the knight, " how like my sister." Escape looked hard at Sir Rolend, and a cold shudder crept over him with- out his being al)le to comprehend the cause. The knight recovered himself, and turning to Escape witli as indifferent an air as he could assume, asked — ■ *' What is your mission?" " I wish to see Lady ReynneUfeyrth," replied Escape. " You cannot," returned the knight, " she is not here; but I am her bro- ther, and therefore whatever you have to communicate you can make me ac- quainted with." " I beg your pardon," said Escape deferentially, " but what I have to com- municate is for Lady Reynnellfeyrth's ear alone." " She has no secrets from me," said Sir Rolend haughtily; " what have you to say r" *' I must decline mentioning it to any but her lad3'ship,'' returned Escape. " She has left London," retorted the knight. Escape clasped his hands when he heard this with an expression of mor- tified disappointment. Sir Rolend noticed it, and became anxious to learn the cause; he therefore again questioned him, but received a respectful re- fusal to confide the communication to hira.« His hasty temper could not brook this, and he was about to speak harshly and sharply, when Jonathan Wild en- tered the room, followed by the two men he had spoken of — Quilt Arnold and Abraham the Jew, who was so celebrated for negociating for Jonathan Wild with persons who had lost their property by robbery. When Escape saw Jonathan enter he recoiled several feet, as if some deadly thing had blasted his sight. The keen eyes of Jonathan saw the movement, and his sagacity detected the feeUng which dictated it. He walked up to the boy, and cried in a jeering tone — " Ho, ho ! this is a disagreeable surprise, young shavings, is it ? You did not expect, after what occurred at that little supper at the old stupid car- penter's, to meet me again this evening, eh, young chisel and mallet ?" " It is a disagreeable surprise to meet you or any one akin to you any- where," replied Escape boldly. " You crow well," replied Jonathan; " we shall see how you will manage when you get before the magistrates." " V/ho ? I ? Before magistrates ? What do you mean ?" asked Escape breathlessly. " You will know soon enough, young gentleman. Quilt," he added, " dy Jonathan Wild.— See Page, 107. " Maybe, Roundhouse," halloed Jack through the keyhole, overhearing thft remark; "but the gallows is not cut out for him." "Perhaps not," rephed the keeper, "but it soon will be; for they ar* going to build a. new one." A silence of ten minutes ensued, and it was broken by Jack, who, addrcs«ing Escape, said — " Why so down in the mouth, Escape, eh ? When all's quiet we'll be off from here ; so look up a bit. You've better stuff about you than to be afraid about being here." " It is not fear. Jack," replied Escape, "but — I am loath to say it— it i« fiharae — shame to think I should be brought here on such a charge as — as — " " Theft, you'd say," said Jack, supplying the word. " I know why you hang back from saying the word, it is for fear of hurting my feelings. Don't be afraid of that. Escape ; I know that if I had not committed the theft you would not have been here ; and it was to do me a service that you have got your- self into this scrape ; and I will get you out of it, or my name is not Jack Shepperd. But don't suppose. Escape, that you are brought here merely for their belief that you are concerned in the robbery. No ; I overheard Jonathan Wild tell Quilt Arnold to go to Roger Johnson, and bid him get his sloop under weigh, for he had a kinchin to send by him immediately, and he would send directions what to do with hiiu* I knew dijrectly that it wa? you they 108 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF meant ; and when I saw the ill-looking, ugly-mugged brother of the lady's, I was sure that he was concerned in your intended removal, and its something I'm sure connected with your being the Lady Reynnellfeyrth's son." " Why should they wish to remove me ?" said Escape surprisedly. "Why?" reiterated Jack ; " I can guess very well. There's some property, and you stand in the way; therefoi-e you must get out of Wdd's clutches. He's to have a round sum for it or he wouldn't mix up in it, and he'll look as sharp as a needle after you ; but I'm a little up to trap, and I'll see if we can't tip Jonathan Wild the double. If he once nabs you, it's all up with you. He'll put you on board his sloop, and Roger Johnson, who is the out-and- outest ruffian that ever deserved scragging, will shove you over the side, and swear you slipped in by accident." " But what are we to do ?" asked Escape earnestly. " Did not the man say Jonathan Wild would be here to-night.'' " To be sure he did," replied Jack, " and that's the reason we must not stop hfcre." " But how are we to get out ?" inquired Escape. " Wait a moment; I'll show you a pretty trick ;" answered Jack. "You see Sir Oliver is taking a stroll to enjoy the evening air ; he willlook in at the window presently, and then I shall see what to do.'' " But what will you do ?" interrogated Escajie. " Why I'll have that lock off," replied Jnck. " In the next room is a win- dow that overlooks an outhouse ; the window is barred, but the bars are so old I'll have one out of its socket in no time ; it is but a short way to drop, and once clear of the roundhouse, we can make a fair start for Woulds'. Once safe with him, you need not fear much. Ah ! here comes Sir Ohver ; now for work. Here, Escape, stand by me. When I get the door open, you bolt to the room door we etitex and lock it, while I up with the mndow, and out with the bar.,' " But how will you get the lock off?" asked Escape. " Why you've nothing but questions to offer," returned Jack. " I've got the tools in ray pocket which I took with me to Lady Reynnell- ffeyrth to pack her trunk with. Here's the screwdriver ; now to have the box off. Hist, Escape !" he whispered, as he knelt down and peeped through the keyhole; "there's Abraham asleep in the other room ; we must be careful. Look ye. Escape : when you have locked and bolted the door, if Abraham moves, spring on him and hold him down while I workaway at the bar. Hushjl'* Jack used his screwdriver skilfully and noiselessly. In a few minutes the box of the lock was off, and the door opened. Escape immediately followed the directions Jack had given him, and locked the door of the room they had by the means just narrated entered. As he had not accomplished this feat with the silence with which Jack had executed his, the result was that Abra- ham heard it, opened his eyes, rubbed them and exclaimed " Oh ! Hollo ! " but ere he could utter another word Jack Shepperd had untied his own neck- erchief and passed it swftly and tightly round the ^ew's mouth, effectually gagging him ; Escape, also, at the same time sprung upon him, drew the ends of the handkerchief from Jack's hand, passed them tightly round his wrist, and between the two the Jew was flung upon the ground. Jack hastily disengaged himself, and proceeding to the window he drew from his pocket a hammer and screwdriver, and commenced breaking away the lead and stone which confined one of the bars, while Escape exerted his strength to the ut- most to keep the Jew on the ground; but the Jew's strength was too much for Escape, and he succeeded in raising himself from the floor, bringing Escape up with him; he turned round and round rapidly, but Escape stiU held on to * The moon. JiXiK SHEPPERD. 107 | the neckerchief, and his arms, which he had pinioned with both his, holding the gag between them. Jack cast his head round, and observed the struggle. He saw at a glance that in another minute or two the Jew would disengage himself and probably by outcry prevent their escape. He therefore redoubled his efforts, muttering to himself " If I had but a file ; if I had but a file." The Jew and Escape still struggled desperately ; they were at all corners of the room, wrestling backwards and forwards. At length Escape found his strength leaving him, and the Jew, beginning to get his arms loose, he exclaimed hurriedly — " Jack, Jack ! you must come and help me. I have no more strength. I must let go." "No, no!" returned Jack ; "no such thing. Put out your left-leg, pull hard at his head with a jerk, and you'll have him down again, as clean as a whistle." Escape did as Jack advised him and succeeded, but he had not strength to keej) his advantage. Abraham had been but a few minutes on the ground ere he raised himself, pulling up Escape again ; who, from the nature of the posi- tion in which he held the Jew, fell under him. In another minute he had freed his arms from Escape, and seized him by the throat ; he pressed him violently round it, and Escape felt all the horrors of suftbcation. With con- vulsive energy he shouted to Jack to help him, or he should be strangled ; and ere the words had crossed his lips a second, Jack had broken the bar of the window down ; and, swinging it round, he struck the Jew a tremendous blow with it, felling him instantly insensible to the ground." " Now," cried Jack, with rapidity, "follow me, Escape; not a moment is to be lost." He lowered himself out of a window, dropping on the roof of a little out- house. Escape followed, and they ran along the roof and from thence dropped on the ground, ran along Kendrick Yard, and turned into Broad-street When they reached the corner of Drury-lane, they paused to take breath. "Ho, ho, ho!" laughed Jack Shepperd ; "we've tipped 'em the double neatly this time. You've heard me say. Escape, the prison is not built that will hold me ; and this is my first essay, and first proof of it. We're clear of this scrape at least," " Not quite," said a gruflf voice. Jack looked up and found himself and Escape struggling in the arms of Skyblue and Jonathan Wild. CHAPTER XVII. gAYS THA.T JACK SHEPPERD WENT FARTHER THAN HE INTENDED, BUT DOES NOT SAY WHETHER HE GOT SAFE HOME AT LAST. " Ha!" cried Jonathan Wild, "where away so fast. Don't you like your lodgings in St. Giles' ?" , , , , " No," cried Jack, nothing daunted, although he was rather startled at meeting Jonathan unexpectedly ; " but that is'nt the reason that we are going to our domus; it's because Shackles did'nt like our company, ^and sent us home telling us to be sure and come back again in the morning." " He did ?" cried Jonathan, for a moment taken off his guard. "Yes," replied Jack, with unblushing effrontery; "its growing late, we 108 THE LirE AND ADVENTURES OP sliall have Old Woulds giving us a leaf oufof the Testament, if we don*t tip our rags a gallop. Good night, Jonathan," and Jack proceeded to walk on. " Not so fast, if you please," said Wild, catching hold of Jack's collar, and giving a peculiar whistle. Jack was surprised to see Quilt Arnold come up. "Oh," he cried, "this is a plant. Take off your mauley's, Jonathan ; T won't be caged by you : hands off," and he twisted, struggled, and twirled with such eel-like evolutions, that Wild found it the most difficult thing in the world to keep anything like a hold of him. He was compelled to use sooth- ing language to endeavour to pacify him. " Don't be a fool. Jack," he cried; "hsten to me. I don't want to send you back. Hold still ; d'ye hear what I say ; if you'll be quiet, you shall go where you like.'' Upon this Jack grew somewhat quieter, but still held himself in readiness to get away, if Jonathan did not keep his word. " And Escape shall go too, or it is no bargain," he exclaimed. " He has gone," said Jonathan, " but he won't get far, with his hands tied, before Quilt catches him." " Oh, I beg your pardon," answered Jack. " I don't do my work by halves, I had his bracelets off before we left St. Giles'." " You did, eh ?" cried Jonathan, affecting astonishment; " then I dare say the young rascal is far enough off by this time. Well, let him go. I want to introduce you to some friends of mine ; I can't come this moment myself, but Skyblue will take you, and I will meet you there." •' Where?" asked Jack, doubtfully. "This is'nt a move to queer me, Jona- than?" " No; upon my honour," said Jonathan, smiling. " Your honour," laughed Jack; "that's a good 'un; say something else ; your honour is like a miser's charity^quite out of sight." " Never mind my honour," said Wild. "There are some first-rate bloods in the company that I will introduce you too, some choice spirits, who can swallow good liquor, and chant staves with any lads in the kingdom. — You're fond of chaunts, Jack ; you'll learn some of the most tip-top ones there that were ever written. You may stay as long as you like, come away when you like, and go again when you like." " That sounds well," said Jack; "if I go. Escape is to be all right; you are not to let him be touched. It was I who faked the miniature, and he took it back. He is an out-and-out pal, though he thinks another way to me ; but he has been very kind to me when others would'nt speak to me, and I'll stick to him, back-and-edge, Damme !" " I'll not touch him, never fear," answered Jonathan, who knew Quilt Arnold had Escape in his possession, " He's safe enough by this time. There, off with you, I shall see yuu by-and-bye;" and V/ild hurried off in the direc- tion in which Quilt Arnold had borne Escape. It may be as well to mention that izpon the sudden encountering of Wild and Skyblue, the latter had seized Escape; who, when he saw Quilt Arnold approach, broke from the grasp of Skyblue, and ran with all the speed he was master of down Drury-lane ; but Qudt was too nhuble for him, and soon overtook him ; keeping him firmly in his possession until the arrrival of Wild. Jack Shepperd and Skyl)Uie proceeded down Holborn, up Snow-hill, along Chcapside, through Lombard-street, over London-bridge, and so on to the Mmt. After turning through places of the lowest and filthiest description, they stopped in front ot a lo\i/ public-house. Ahhough rather late, the lights in th« house were burning brightly, and sounds of boisterous mirth and drunken JACK SHEPPERD. 109 revelry burst on their ears. Skyblue entered, followed by Jack ; they passed through a narrow bar, behind which a young woman, showily dressed, was serving out gin and various spirits. Skyblue had a little badinage with this damsel, and then proceeded to enter a parlour. When the door opened Jack's breath was almost taken away with admiration of the sight which pre- sented itself. At the head of a long table in the centre of the room was seated no less a personage than the Mintmaster; v/ho, as well as being the high and mighty monarch of the Mint, was lord and master of the house in which this scene is laid. JBefore him was a huge bowl of punch, which he was dispensing to his friends around. The table was lined on either side by men and women, all dressed in a peculiar style ; but their habiliments were mostly in good or- der. There were one or two side-tables, also, which were occupied by persons drinking and smoking. Skyblue walked up, followed closely by Jack, to the Mintmaster, who cordially recognised him, and whispered in his ear. He then introduced Jack to him; the Mintmaster held out his hand and shook Jack's warmly. He said he knew his father well, and he hoped he would prove as good a man as his father. Jack laughed, and said " He hoped he should." Jack was then seated close by the Mintmaster, and next to a young girl, who was neatl)', yet loosely dressed — rather too- much so to be modest. Jack looked at her hard, and the girl returned his gaze with a most wicked laugh and slight wink of the eyelid. Jack laughed, and returned the wink, and stared harder than ever. At length he thumped his hand upon the table, and said, " How devilish queer !" " What is ?" said the girl, growing a little serious ; " my face ?" •' No, my dear," replied Jack Shepperd rather fondly ; " it is the prettiest I ever saw except one, and yours is so much like that, that — hang me, now I come to look on you again, I hardly know which is the prettiest. You have the same coloured hair, and the same shaped nose and lips ; your eyes are the same colour, too, and very much alike ; only yours are more merry, more laughing than Barbara's— more to my taste ; but you are both very much alike." " Who is Barbara ?" asked the girl. ♦* She is my master's daughter; a sweet— but don't let's talk of her now," said Jack, a shade suddenly passing over his brow. "Here, Skyblue," he cried, " let's have something to drink." " I was just going to give you some," returned Skyblue. " Here's some of the right sort of stufF, and here's a yard of clay and some weed for you, to blow a cloud. There, make your life happy." " That's your sort,'' cried Jack, taking hold of the liquor and the pipe. " Xow, my love," he said, turning to the girl, " you will drink with me." " That I will, my young spicy cull," said the girl. " Call me Jack," said our hero. " And what am I to call you, my doxy, eh r" " I an'tlyour doxy yet," said the girl with a laugh ; " but my name used to be Elizabeth. No matter— I am called Edgeworth Bess now; I am known by that name here— everywhere I go, so you must call me that, love." "No," said Jack; "it's too long. I shall call you Bess— I shall like to " " Silence for Mr. King's song !" was roared by the Mintmaster, as he rapped hard upon the table with a small hammer, which he held in his hand as a kind of insignia of office. "King!" said Jack; "who's her" "Don't you know Tom King, the highpad >" asked the girl with as- tonishment. " I've heard of him," answered Jack; "which is him ?" " Edgeworth Bess pointed with her linger to a tallish, gentlemanly-looking THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF young man, who was smartly dressed. His face was pale ; but as hig song proceeded it lighted up with an enthusiasm which gave an expression to the face that told he was in a sphere for which nature never intended him. He cleared his throat and commenced in a musical voice TOM KING'S SONG. There's a moonlight sky above me, The air blows fresh aad sweet, There's a gallant steed beneath me, There's green turf at his feet. I have pistols, primed and loaded, All ready in my hand ; There's a coach, with steeds much goaded, Comes past — I cry out " Stand ! ^ " Deliver!" There's a joy which few can measure In scenes so bold and free ; Yet there's one which, Oh 1 I treasure As dearer far to me. 'Tis to »ee thy blue eyes smiling. With a sweetness their's alone, And to hear thy voice beguiling Sad thoughts with if» soft tone— My dearest 1 " Bravo !" cried Jack, adding his applause to that which came from all parts of the room, as Tom King concluded, and sank back in his seat. " Bravo ! That's very sofc and pretty, but hardly spicy enough ; is it, Bess ?" " Don't you think so, dear ?" said Bess, meeting a question by a question. With the quickness of a woman's perception she felt the compliment paid to the sex in the song which they had just heard. " No,'' replied Jack ; " I like . your out-and-out flash chaunts. Nothing like Skyblue for me." " What about me ?" said Skyblue across the table, catching his name as the word fell from Jack's lips. " I want some more lush, "said Jack, who was waxing rather intoxicated. His request was complied with, and he handed his replenished tumbler to Bess. As she took it she leaned over to Jack, and whispered, with a laughing wink, "And nothing like Skyblue forme." "No," cried Jack, chuckUng; "you'd rather have me, wouldn't you, Bess ?" " Would I not !" replied Bess, giving him a kiss. " Bless you, my darling," said Jack, excessively gratified by her con- descension, and growing very affectionate towards her. Speeches were made, songs sung — many of v/hich, being very low flash ones, pleased Jack mightily — jokes were bandied about, and, as the night pro- fressed, the spirits of the revellers reached a glee of very great height. Leaving ack in a state of uproarious mirth and enjoyment, we must return to other scenes. JACK SHEPPERD. HI. CHAPTER XVIII. THE MOTHER. L From one of the neatest little cottages i uaginable, near Hackney, came a female who in her dress exceeded the neatness of the Uttle building she had just quitted. Upon her arm was a small basket ; and, with a calm quietness of demeanour, she walked on in the direction of London. It was about six in the evening when she started — a clear, calm, June evening ; and she walked on in the cool air with a placidity and calm enjoyment perfectly enviable. She was attired as a widow. Her face was pale, but very beautiful. There were traces as though grief had been there; but its ravages had been superseded by after-comforts, producing a better state of mind. It was Mrs, Shepperd. The generosity of Mr. Woulds had placed her in the cottage she had quitted ; and he likewise had allowed her an income, which though small, was amply suffi- cient for her wants. With her son beneath the roof of her kind benefactor and herself provided for, she regained her peace of mind sufficiently to render her calm and resigned, and as years drew on the memory of her grief and wretchedness was softened, and her health, which her former life had so miserably impaired, was strengthened and improved in a manner calculated to considerably lengthen her existence. Of Jack's temper and conduct she knew but little, ; for out of consideration to her feehngs Woulds had kept from her the truth and as she only occasionally saw him, and always found him affec- tionate to her, and she saw, likewise, from specimens of his abilities that he was a very good workman, she had no uneasiness on his account, and there- fore it might be said she was now as happy as circumstances could make her— and as she was likely to be. As she walked on and looked at the green trees, the fields, and the flowers — as she listened to the warbhng of the birds and felt the gentle breeze fan her cheeks, she breathed a prayer of thankfulness to Providence that her mind had so changed from what it had been that she could look around her and dwell with unalloyed delight upon the beauty of the scene around her. AVhile still gazing, she heard herself addressed by name, and turning round she saw the smiling face of a good-humoured neighbour, a miller, who in a light spring-cart was jogging along in the same direction as herself. " Good evening to you, widow," cried the miller: "whither bound this fine evening ?" " Good evening," returned Mrs. Shepperd, " I am going toLondon to the house of my kind friend, Mr, Woulds, in Witch-street, to see my son." " Indeed !" said the miller. " Well, Mrs. Shepperd, I am going to Broad- street, St. Giles', and if you are not afraid to trust yourself with a married man, and the father of a family, you can get up and ride with me as far as the top of Drury-lane, and then your walk will be short," Mrs. Shepperd thanked him, and accejjted his offer. The way was enlivened by a little agreeable conversation, and in a shorter time than she expected the miller set Mrs. Shepperd down at the appointed place. She had scarcely said " Farewell" to the kind miller, and proceeded on her way, when she en- countered Jonathan Wild walking swiftly along. She shuddered as he passed her, but he did not recognise her, and she kept on; but her calmness of mind was in an instant destroyed. The whole occurrences in which he had been so villanous a party came with terrific force upon her mind, and, with a fore- boding for which she could not account, she accelerated her pace, and, with a heart which, upon her leaving her peaceful home, had been calm »nd placid 112 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF and was now heavy with a presentiment of evil, she knocked at the door of Mr. Woulds' house. Her excitement made her knock loudly and hurriedly. She heard a quick footstep along the hall, the door was speedily opened, and Barbara, holdinf? her hand out, appeared, exclaiming, with eagerness, " Dear Escape !" Upon perceiving Mrs. Shepperd her countenance changed to one of great disappointment, and she checked her exclamation, changing it to one of welcome to the widow, who, however, noticed the altered expression, and inquired if she had not expected some friend instead of herself? Barbara replied in the affirmative. "It was Escape," she said, "who had gone out with Jack, about half-an- hour previous." " Is not Jack at home ?" inquired Mrs. Shepperd, in her turn ex- hibiting an air of disappointment. "jWiil he be long ?" she continued, anxiously. "No," replied Barbara, answering both questions with one negative ; " but we expect them home every minute." "Then, if you pleat.e, I will wait," said Mrs. Shepperd. " Most certainly," said Barbara ; " pray come in." " I wish to speak to your father," remarked the widow. " I have brought you this small bouquet, my love, and a little present for your mother, if she will please to accept it. Barbara thanked her, and showing Mrs. Shepperd into the parlour de- parted up stairs to deliver her message. Mrs, Shepperd waited some time, and fancied she heard voices quarreling up stairs ; {;resently she heard the room door open, and Mrs. Woulds' voice, in a tone of passion, exclaim — " How dare she come here — to my very house too; and insult me to — by bringing her presents to me — to me, to. Let the hussey throw her rubbish where she throws her love, and she'll fling her gift at your wooden head. There has been quite enough to put up with in her blackguard and low-lived son, who is only fit for the gallows, and will come it to soon, mark my words." Mrs. Shepperd heard these words with the greatest alarm and a beating heart : she feared, with agony, they had reference to her and her son ; she lis- taned, therefore, intently to hear more, but the door was slammed violently, and the sound, beyond a hum, was shut out from her hearing. She waited with sickening anxiety until a loud knocking at the door, preceded by the sound of coach- wheels stopping before the door, greeted her ears, and again the hght loot came swiftly down the stairs. Mrs. Shepperd was in hope that it was her son returned but when the door was opened, she heard the rough voice of a man asking for Mr. Woulds ; Barbara's voice inquiring the purport of his visit, and the reply that he had " come from Master Escape Darwell." Twenty questions were asked by Barbara respecting him, in a breath ; and the man replied to all by saying he " would only tell Mr. Woulds." Barbara raced up stairs and returned swiftly again, followed by Mr. Woulds ; she heard the man speak of a charge of robbery, preferred by Jonathan Wild against two boys at St. Giles' Roundhouse. She had some horrid idea that Jack was implicated in the transaction. Whatever else might have been said was unheard. She had a thronging of sounds in her ears ; her mouth was parched, and when Mr. Woulds entered the room, she burst into a passionate flood of tears, and flung herself at his feet, exclaiming "Where is my son?" Mr. Woulds raised her, bade her not to be alarmed, and soothed her as well as he could ; told her part of the coachman's story; softening all the parts respecting Jack's impertinence, which the man had not failed to give at full; and told her to come with him to St. Giles's, where he was 'going ac once. He got his hat and went out, she following close. As ihey went along he told her he wat JACK SHKrPEUn. E9c»pe imploring Quill Arnold to set him at liberty. sorry he had kept her waiting, but some circumstances had unfortunately oc- curred which had put his wife out of temper, and when that was the case she liad no respect for persons. By the time he had finished his apology they stood at the door of St. Giles' Roundhouse. Woulds knocked loudly, and for some time received no answer ; but as his blows grew louder and more frequent, as a longer time elapsed, he had at length the satisfaction of hearing some one come to the door, but his expecta- ions of seeing it opened were not realised, for a small wicket was drawn aside and the gruff voice of Mr. Shackles, demanding the meanmg of their knock- ing was heard. Woulds, who had his constable's staff with him, said that he had come to confer with the sitting constable upon some matters of impor- tance; to this, Shackles replied that he had not yet arrived. " He will be here presently," said Woulds, " I know ; I will therefore come in and wait. My name is Woulds ; I am one of the headboroughs ot fet. Clement's Danes." . , , , «' Oh," cried Mr. Shackles, "you can come m;" and he opened the door to admit them. They entered; and when they got inside, Mr. Woulds tiirned to Shackles, and said, "You have two boys here, named, John bhepperd and Escape Darwell. I wish to know at whose suit, and upon what charge they are brought here?" No. 15. 114 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Mr. Shackles hesitated ; he did not like to say the boys had not been there, and he did not like to say they had, and had escaped. He therefore steered a middle course, and said, "those were questions he could not answer; the constable, when he came, would satisfy him upon that point, he had no doubt." He showed them into an apartment to wait, and, as he closed the door after them, he locked it. This was a proceeding which did not quite agree with Woulds' ideas of courtesy ; and, therefore, he entered a protest against it by battering at the door, and calling to Shackles to release them ; but he might have talked to a sione wall with about as much efficacy, for his thumping and entreaties met with no acknowledgement from the Watch-house keeper ; and he wa&, perforce, compelled to wait until it was his will and pleasure to re- lease them. They had been seated about an hour when the sound of voices in an adjoining apartment, from which they were separated by only a thin parti- tion, attracted their attention, " Well," said one of the voices, "he's began young, and he's crack'd his quod in a pretty slap-up style, for a young'un." " Yes," replied a second voice; "and it must ha' been a nasty tap that Aby got on his pimple; it's cut very deep, and drawn lots of claret." " Did'nt you say," said the first voice, " that Jonathan and Skyblue had nabbed 'em as they were cutting home ?" " Yes," returned the other, " Young Shepperd has gone to the Mint, to the Mintmaster's crib, along with Skyblue; while Jonathan, along with Quilt, have put the other kid in Roger Johnson's keeping. There's some lay — some artful kick — about that, that I'm not up too ; but Jonathan has some queer move on the board, or he would'nt be at all this trouble." The conversation was here interrupted by the entrance of Shackles, who said a few words to the men whose conversation he had disturbed, and then unlocked the door of the room containmg Woulds and Mrs. Shepperd ; saying — " The night constable has sent word that he is ill and can't come. He has sent a substitute, and so if you want to see him you must either go to his house or wait till the morning, and send to him to call upon you." "You're an impertinent rascal," cried Woulds, passionately; "and I'll make you remember treating a headborough in this scandalous way; if there's law to be had. There, stand out of ray way. Come along, Mrs. Shepperd. We have no time to lose." Shackles muttered something about Mr. Wild, but Woulds heeded him not, and made the best of his way out of the Roundhouse, closely followed by Mrs. Shepperd ; when they reached the outside, Woulds said — " I will proceed at once to Wild's house and make him deliver up Escape. There is dark work going on I fear; Jonathan has threatened, and I find in- tends to perform his threat ; but I'll stick about his skirts until I am satisfied; and he'll find that if he does have his revenge of me, I will not be long in having mine ; and that in such a manner as will perhaps make him regret that he ever had anything to do with me or mine. Will you accomi;any me, Jane?" " No, Sir — no ;" replied the widow, whose tears were chasing each other rapidly down her cheeks. I must away to the Mint to find ray boy, and draw him, if I can, from the wicked wretches who have him in their clutches. Oh, Heaven ! I had foolishly thought my bitterest trials were past — how am I mistaken!" " Come, come,'' cried Woulds; "you must not give way; it is not the way to surmount troubles to meet them with tears. You thought, years since, there was no prospect of being again even slightly happy, and yet you have been — to judge by your own words — comparatively so for some years." JACK SHEPPERD. 115 " Ah, Sir," returned the widow ; " you were always ready in my grief, with kind words to soothe me, and I should be glad to believe there was nothing dreadful to be feared from Jack having been led away for a time. It is true too, as you say, I have indeed been comparatively happy for years, but I have heard enough this night to break it up for ever. Well, — well ; the Lord will teach me how to bear it. Good night. Sir. May God bless you for your gcodness to me and mine !" " God bless you, widow !" replied Woulds. " Everything will yet turn out well for you. You are determined upon going to the Mint ?" "Oh, yes," said the widow, quickly. "I know the haunt well. I shall know at once where to find him. I will get him away, if possible. Do not think about coming with me : there is the other lad to see after ; and, beside, were you to come with me, it might create a suspicion, and prevent my gaining my object." "Be it as you will," returned Woulds. "The Lord preseiTe thee, thou woman of many trials 1 Good night ; let me see you as soon as possible, for I shall be anxious to know everything concerning Jack." The widow bowed her head ; they shook hands, and hurried m different directions. Mrs. Shepperd keeping in the direction of the Mint, while Woulds went towards his own residence to obtain assistance, and then proceed to Wild's house, opposite Newgate, with the endeavour to rescue Escape, or, at least, learn what had become of him. As Mrs, Shepperd entered the Mmt and proceeded along paths, known to her years since under circumstances of such bitterness, the recollection of what she had suffered in these wretched haunts forced itself upon her mind, searing her brain with an agony like living fire. The presentiment, too, of coming evil was upon her, weighing down her spirit as though the weight of the world was there. She passed on giving the word to the scouts, and proceeded at once to the Pig-and-Tinder-Box, as the Mintmaster's house was signed, being the flash term for Elephant-and-Castle. She addressed no one; but knowing the house well, passed through the bar into the parlour, in which Jack was left in much glee, on the high road to intoxication. If there had been pre- viously any doubt upon her mind as to Jack's having launched into depravity so suddenly, it was speedily removed by the sight which met her distracted ^aze. There was her son seated, or rather half-lying, partly on his chair and partly upon the neck of Edgeworth Btss, who, with one arm round his waist, was taking little innocent freedoms with his face, with the hand at liberty ; patting his cheeks, chucking him under the chin, &c. The quantity of liquor which he drank, the lights, smoking, and number of persons congregated to- gether, in a comparatively small room, had the effect of putting Jack in a state of excessive sudation. His neckcloth was removed, his waistcoat unbuttoned, and his shirt open at the neck. He was making ineffectual attempts to talk and smoke at one and the same time, but he found it a matter of no easy ac- complishment; for when he opened his mouth to speak, the pipe would come out, and it took some little generalship to restore it to its proper situation. His words were uttered with an articulation by no means distinct ; and, as he rambled from one subject to another, intermixing them without making posi- tive sense of any, it may reasonably be concluded that no one but himself could exactly tell what he meant. His mother had glided into the room un- noticed and unknown. In comformity with the custom of the house, she had called for a glass of mixed liquor, which she did not intend to drink, and seated herself in a vacant chair near the top of the room, where she could see her son's motions and remain unnoticed herself. She felt herself in an awkward predicament, for she scarcely knew in what manner to draw Jack from his present associates. In the state he was in, she knew it required the greatest 116 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF care and caution to accomplish ; aad she hoped so to restrain her natural feeUngs thai she might witness the scene of debauchery, and her son's mis- conduct, without making any outbreak which would defeat her project. Amidst the confusion which reigned around, she heard Jack speaking. She knew the voice well ; could have told its tones amid a thousand; and even now, when it was rendered thick, and almost unintelligible, by the influence of spirits upon it, she still, amid the buzz of surrounding sounds, imme- diately recognised it. " I say, Bess," she heard him say, "—I am loath to say it — but I — I feel as —drunk as any young blood — as any lad of my wax can do." " You only think so, dear," rejoined Bess. " My fancy lad can take a good deal more yet, and then tell what o'clock it is." " Gammon," replied Jack. " That's only cominfir soft-soap over me. I tell you, Bess, I'm drunk, and I know it. Lord ! if old Woulds could see me now, how he would clasp his mauleys and lift up his ogles ;" and he indulged in an inward laugh, for he had no power to create a sounding cochinnation. Mrs. Shepperd groaned as she heard him, and the sound fell upon the ear of Mr. Skyblue, near whom she was seated ; he turned his head round and looked hard at Mrs. Shepperd. She recognised his villanous coun- tenance in an instant, and averted her head. She remained in this position a fev/ minutes, and again turned her head to look at Jack, but found the eyes of Skyblue rivetted upon her with an earnest and inquiring gaze. The second time he caught a glimpse of her face, and satisfied himself as to her identity. He left his chair and approached her, exclaiming — " What, Widow Shepperd ! — are my peepers queering me, or is it you I see among us again ? Welcome to Bermuda ! He seized her hand roughly, and shook it with a warmth, as though he was actuated by a gratified feeling at seeing her once more among the community of wretches. She shrunk from him with a sensation of horror and disgust, and said, timidly — " I have only come to take my son home with me. I have not seen him for some time, and I want to — to talk with him — to take him away from here." " Ah, but you can't do that," replied Skyblue, with a coarse laugh. '"You may stay here as long as you like, but you can't take him away." " Indeed !" cried Mrs. Shepperd, appealingly. " I beg of you to let me have him — to assist me in getting him away." " Can't do nothing of the sort," rejoined Skyblue. " Skyblue, you knew my poor husband well," urgently uttered Mrs. Shep- perd. " You also knew the misery I suffered ; you have seen it all. Do not add so deeply to what I have already endured, by plunging my child into scenes and crimes which brought his father to an early and ignominious death. You once possessed a kindly feeling towards me. Let me see that you really did possess it, by assisting me to rescue my boy from this dreadful place. Think of a mother's feelings, and lend me your aid to draw him away, and you shall have my prayers." " Ho, ho, ho !" laughed Skyblue. " I know nothing of a mother's feeling; and as to prayers, why you can keep them for Jack or for Jonathan Wild. I think, by-thebye, he has most need of them; for he'll have a good load to drag him down belovv^. Here, Jack," he cried, addressing Jack Shepperd, " Here's your mother come to take you home, and you'll go like a good boy, as you are." As this speech was hallowed in rather a forte tone across the table, every eye was turned upon the unfortunate widow ; while a taunting laugh ran round the room. " My mother ?" hiccupped Jack. " That be d d. No, no ; that's a JACK SHEPPERD. Hi lay that won't gull me. You won't catch ray mother in such a crib as this. My mother here— ha, ha, ha !" " Don't be too fast, my kinchin coe," said Skyblue; " turn your ogles this way. Now, widow, trot up. Mow, Most Honourable Master of the Mint, let me introduce an old friend to your notice ; Mrs. Shepperd, Barnaby Bottleby— Barnaby Bottleby, Mrs. Shepperd ; Jack, your mother — your mother. Jack. Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Shepperd ; Mrs. Shepperd, Ladies and gentlemen." He concluded with mock gravity, and another laugh at the widow's expense went round the table. " Welcome, Mrs. Shepperd, to the community" cned the Mintmaster, " which always receives an old member with open arms." " Welcome ! welcome !" shouted the assemblage. Mrs. Shepperd felt ready to faint, but the hopes of getting Jack away sup- ported her ; and acknowledging the Mintmaster's salute by abend of the head, with the idea of conciliating him, for she knew that she was not in a company who would brook being treated with contumely. She passed round the back of his chair, and came up to Jack, who was half sobered by her sudden ap- pearance ; there was a cloud on his brow which betokened anything but plea- sure at meeting with her ; and as she came up to him he said — " It is you, then, mother ?" •' It is, my dear son," replied hie mother. " I came to town to-night, and learned much to distress me. I have been to St. Giles', and from thence I have come here." ,., ,. i • • i " I wish you had'nt, then," returned her son moodily ; this is no place " Nor for you. Jack," rejoined Mrs. Shepperd. " Pray, my dear child, come home with me. I have much to say to you. I have not seen you a long time. I did not expect to see you here. I— I" and she burst into tears. Jack did liot reply, but , with the end of his pipe drew figures and marks upon the table with some spilled Uquor. '♦ You ain't going, dovey," said Edgeworth Bess coaxingly. You're more of a man than to run after your mammy's tail, I know." " Come, Jack," said his mother. " You're wrong, Bess," said Skyblue across the table ; " he ain't out of leading-strings; his mammy will give him the rod when she gets him home." " Come, Skyblue," cried Jack fiercely, " none of your chaff- cutting for me— it won't suit. You'll find I am out of my leading-strings in no- time, if you don't stow it." , „, , , . , • i i. " You can crow," returned Skyblue, with a sneering laugh. " Ay!" said Jack quickly, " and 1 am a cock that will fight too." " That's well said, my lad of spirit," exclaimed Bess, with an approving slap on Jack's shoulder. ., j , . " Come with me, dear Jack," said his mother. Do not heed what is said ; do not be turqed from doing right by the idle words of weak minds." '• You're not going, my dear; are you?" said Besa to Jack, lavishing a caress upon him. , o, , , i. • "Silence, silence for a song," roared Skyblue, having prevailed upon a gentleman present to favour the company with one. He had done this with a motive which succeeded to his heart's content j for during the trolling of a very long, very low flash chaunt, with a rolling burden which the company did due honour to, Skyblue had passed tumbler after tumbler of strong spirit- and-water to Edgeworth Bess, who had supplied Jack with it, without the pos- sibility of Mrs. Shepperd's preventing it, in such quantities, that by the time the song had concluded Jack was ready to fall under the table. His mother now took hold of his hand, and implored himtoquitthe-place; whileBesstookthe 118 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Other hand, and persuaded him to stop. Jack was too far gone to articulate a word, and his head dropped on his chest, showing him to be in a state of in- sensibility from excessive drink. His mother, who would not acknowledge to herself that this was the case, and still had a hope that she could get him him away, said — " Will you not come with me, Jack ?" " No !" thundered a voice in her ear ; she turned round quite startled — it was Skyblue ; he laid hold of her arm firmly, and continued, " he'll be taken care of here, and when he wants to come and see you, he can; you see you can't take him with you, and, as Jack said, this is no place for you, why you had better go — which means you must go;" so saying, without being moved by the agonised entreaties, screams, and iraplorings, he dragged her from the room, gave her into charge of two scouts, and bade them turn her out of the Mint, and on no account to admit her again ; this was complied with, and the morning came and found Mrs. Shepperd wandering about the boun- daries of the Mint, without succeeding in getting any admission within its precincts, or even any intelligence respecting Jack ; all that day did she wait wearily and distressedlj', hoping to meet with some one who could tell her something about him, or convey a message from her to him — but in vain ; and as the night drew on, fagged and wearied in body, and sad at heart, she wended her way to her solitary home — to that home where she had at least enjoyed a contented, peaceful state of mind, but where she felt now she should be happy no longer. CHAPTER XIX. JONATHAN WILD FULFILS HIS AGREEMENT WITH SIR ROLEND REYNNELLFFEYRTH. When Jonathan Wild came up with Quilt Arnold, who had Escape prisoner, he exclaimed hurriedly, " We have no time to lose j you gave my directions to Roger Johnson?" " Yes," replied Arnold ; " the wind and tide serves, and he is ready to start at a moment's notice j he only waits for your commands to weigh anchor and away." " That's well," returned Jonathan ; " you took my message to the knight ?" " I did, and I saw him," returned Quilt. " His reply ?" asked Jonathan. " He would be at the place at the time appointed," returned his servant. " So far all is well," said Wild, with some satisfaction in his countenance; " you must now get a rattler, and drive to Roger Johnson's Ken at Wapping, and wait my coming; I must be at home if my suspicions are well founded; you say this boy gave some directions to the coachman, who took you to St. Giles'." " Yes," replied Quilt, " he did ; I guessed that it was a message to old Woulds." * " I have no doubt you are right," said Wild thoughtfully ; and if so, when he finds that the boys are not at St. Giles's, he will, on the spur of the mo- ment, judging from what fell from me to-night at his house, do me the honour JACK SHEPPERD. 119 of a vibit ; I must, therefore, be prepared to meet him as innocently and as openly as I can ; you have gagged this boy, I see— that is right— it keeps him quiet.' ' " I was obliged," said Quilt ; " he kicked up such a rumpus that he would have had all Long Acre about our ears if I had not." " Ha!'' cried Jonathan Wild suddenly, " keep back — keep back;" and he pushed Quilt Arnold with Escape io the deep entry of a house, and followed himself, standing in the shade as two persons rapidly approached ; the moon was full, shining brightly and clearly, and played full on the faces of the two persons as they passed hurriedly along ; Escape gave a desperate struggle to get towards them, but Quilt Arnold and Jonathan Wild held him as firzwly as though he'd been screwed in a vice until the strangers had passed ; it was Mr. Woulds and Mrs. Shepperd; the former little thought that he had passed so close to the boy he was in search of, or it is probable he would not have passed along so swiftly ; as soon as they were out of hearing. Wild came from his hiding-place, followed by Quilt and Escape, who, with his arms bound and his mouth gagged, stood in the grasp of the powerful officer utterly help- less, while scalding tears poured down his cheeks as he found himself thus at the mercy of his relentless foes. Wild walked with them as far as the Strand, and saw them into a coach, gave his parting directions to Quilt, and then turned his steps to his own dwelling, which stood in the Old Bailey, opposite Newgate ; as he knocked, he gave also a pecuhar signal, and the door was instantly opened, and as instantaneously closed; he passed on to his sitting- room, and seated himself at a table covered with papers; he rang the bell, and a man of a singularly-forbidding aspect entered. " Now," said Wild, " what has been done?" The man handed him a paper; he took it, and read it over; after musing a little while, he continued — " This is not much ; you must tell the man from Mrs. Masham that the reward is not large enough for her jewels — that she must offer a third more, or she will not get them, and that she'd better look sharp, or they'll be made away with. By the bye," he muttered, " I do not see why I shonld not send them by Johnson to Ostend — no, I'll not either — they may lead to more dealings with the good lady, and her influence may be useful to me at some future period — they paid the thirty pounds for the lace, that's well." He went on in this strain with a long list, and then read one containing goods, received from thieves ; some he noted down as good, while others he marked down as not approximating to it; one fellow's name he put a cross to, to hang offhand; he'd been long enough at thieving, he said, and did not produce so much as he ought, therefore the sooner he was out of the way the better: thus he went on until he had got quite through his hst ; he dismissed the man, and then commenced writing, and continued for some time ; at length he looked at his Match, and found it was nearly three in the morning; he rang the bell, and inquired for Abraham Mendez, but was told he had not returned. " rhat's strange," he muttered ; " the boys got away before twelve— he ought to have been home two hours ago — what has kept him — he has never been on a wild-goose chase after the lads— no matter, I can do without him." A loud linocking was heard at the hall-door, and, telling the man if the person knocking was Woulds, of Witch-street, to admit him, he seated himself, and prepared to meet the worthy carpenter, whom he suspected to be the claimant for admittance ; he was not mistaken, for Mr. Woulds was ushered in, accompanied by four friends, who were constables and worthy fellow-tradesmen, and who had left their beds to assist their friend, which was a jjraii-eworthy action, and much less uncommon in that day than in the present. 1-20 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " Mr. Wild," said Woulds, approaching the table at which Wild was seated, *' you are, no doubt, surprised to see me here at this late hour." " I am surprised at nothing," returned Wild coolly. " But I mean," said Woulds, rather nettled, " that you did not expect to see me." " There you are again mistaken," replied Wild; " I did, and gave orders to my man to admit you." " Then you probably know the reason of my appearance ?" exclaimed Woulds, his choler rising. " I do," returned Jonathan ; "your two apprentices have been accused of stealing a miniature, and they have been locked up in the Roundhouse at St. Giles's upon the accusation ; and you have come to me, I suppose, to liberate them." " They saved you that trouble," exclaimed Woulds, with a bitter laugh ; " they broke prison, but were recaptured by you. Jack Shepperd has been taken by Skyblue to the Mint, and you have borne away Escape Darwell. Now, I insist that you instantly deliver up the boy, or, in the King's name, and with the assistance of these gentlemen, officers of the peace, I arrest 3'ou, Jonathan Wild, for feloniously '' •' Hold, Sir !" interrupted Wild; "you are rather mrre passionate than wise. I have not the boy in my possession ; you have been misinformed in that particular ; and as to arresting me, I am, at present, on Government ser- vice, and have several warrants of the Secretary of State's to serve of the utmost import ; therefore, your power, which is extremely limited, is of httle use in this case. If you want to arrest me you must get a ivarrant. There is a little piece of advice for you ; and also bear in mind, I shall keep the promise I made you this evening. Allow me to bid you farewell. Jakehurst, show these gentlemen out." " Lord 1 lord!" cried Woulds; "he said to night, at my house, that he would have Escape destroyed, and be revenged on me. You hear he says he will keep his promise — the vile, cold-blooded wretch. Hear me, Jonathan Wild. I will bring you to the gallows, as I have life in me this night, unless you restore the boy. Will you do so ?" But Jonathan, who, when he had finished his speech, had commenced writing, returned-no answer, but continued writing. " Sow, gentlemen, if you please,'' said Jakehurst, with an awkward bow. " Jonathan, mark my words," said Woulds, shaking his fist at him as he quitted the rooip, followed by his four friends; " I'll have my revenge on you before I die." Jonathan lifted up his head as Woulds uttered his denunciation, fixed his cold grey eye upon the carpenter, with an expression which seemed to coagulate every drop of blood in his veins, and smiled. The coach which bore " Escape and Quilt Arnold rolled slowly and heavily along, and, at length, arrived at the door of a gloomy house, close to the water-side, at Wapping. Dismissing the coach. Quilt Arnold gave three loud knocks at the door, which was opened without any one being perceived. It opened into a dark passage, which Quilt entered, dragging Escape after him. The door was then fastened, and Quilt bound a handkerchief over his pri- soner's eyes, and led him along, telling him when to step down or when up. After traversing several turnings up and down, they ultimately stopped, and the bandage was removed from Escape's eyes. Escape found himself in a small room, whose limits were considerably lessened by bales and tubs, ready to be shipped for a sea voyage. Quilt unbond Escape's arms, and removed the gag from his mouth ; and when the poor fellow was reUeved from its op- pression, he breathed hard though freely, as if he had been just recovered from the horrors of sufFocatiou. JACK SHEPPERD. Jack Shepperd committing a robbery in Hackuey Churcli. " There," said Quilt Arnold, as he removed the handkerchief, " you may hollo and shout as much as you please here ; there is none to hear you, or pay attention if there was," " What are they going to do with me ?" asked Escape earnestly. " I don't know," said Quilt ; " you must ask Mr. Wild. But, if I guess rightly, I'd advise you to say your prayers, for I don't think they mean to see how old you'll grow." " If you will let me go, you will be richly rewarded ; Lady ReynnellfFeyrth vnW pay you very handsomely," said Escape, with emotion. "I am her son, you know it; yov was there when I saw her for the first time. Let me go to her ; it is hard to be cut off so young in life, from a parent I have but found for a few minutes, and from one also who has loved me from childhood. There will be broken hearts if I die. Let me be free I implore you," passionately urged the boy, falhng on his knees and clasping his hands in a supplicating attitude. " It is more than my neck is worth," said Quilt, somewhat moved ; " besides Lady Reynnellffeyrth is dead ; she died soon after we left. I went there after I left you at the Roundhouse." " Dead ?" almost, screamed Escape. " Yes," replied Quilt, " as dead as a doornail." No. 16. 122 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF Escape uttered not another word, but burying his face in his hands, bowed it almost to the ground in an agony of intense emotion. He had not been long in this situation when he heard his name pronounced in a voice diflferent to that of Quilt Arnold's. He raised his eyes and found Sir Rolend Reyn- nellfFeyrth standing over him. His face was pale as ashes, while his eyes were red and bloodshot ; his voice was harsh and husky, as if some great ex- citement had been burning in his chest. " Rise, boy," he said, " and listen to what I have to say to you." Immediately Escape saw who it was that addressed him he sprung to his feet and stood proudly erect. Folding his arms he waited in silence to hear what the knight had to disclose. Sir Rolend looked upon him with a stern, keen glance, as though he would discover the quality of the spirit he had to deal with, and found something more firm and unbending than he had ex- pected. His shrewdness taught him how to address such a character. He knew it was useless to endeavour to gain his object by a round-about method, and therefore assumed an apparent frankness as he addressed him. " Lady ReynnellfFeyrth," he said, •' this night acknowledged you for her son, and you believe that you are so ; but you are mistaken — such is not the case. You were found upon the same night on which Lady Reynnellffeyrth lost a son, but it does not therefore follow that you should be the son which she lost. But, supposing you were, what are your views in that. You cannot inherit, for the son of Lady Reynnellffeyrth was not born in wedlock, and she has died intestate. Agam, if she had not done so, how could you prove that you are her son ? What chain of evidence have you to substantiate such claim ? None ! The man who has reared you can only say that he picked you up in the Thames on the night of the great storm ; and who is there to prove that my sister lost her child there, or near the place ? None ! There- fore, were you at liberty this moment, your claims would be useless — value- less. Now, look at the situation you are placed in. You are charged with committing a robbery. It will be useless for you to tell the judge that you came to return what your companion had stolen ; he would not believe you ; he would tell you that it was with the intention of committing some fresh theft. You have also broken out of prison, which in itself is a punishable offence. You see, therefore, what an unfortunate position you stand in. From all this you may be removed ; return to your master, and live free and un- molested as long as your own honesty will keep you so ; if you will sign a paper which I have drawn up — the purport of which is, that you are not the son of Lady Reynnellffeyrth, and have no claim or title to any property which may be bequeathed or inherited by such son. Do this, and you are free- refuse, and your fate be upon your own head." " My mother is dead, I am told," said Escape, with a quivering hp, scarcely able to command his voice. A shade passed over the brow of the knight as he said — " Lady Reynnellffeyrth — if you mean her — died this night ; you will there- fore perceive your claim is rendered less attainable. Do you consent to my proposition?" " No," replied Escape firmly, " never ! I fully believe myself to be the son of Lady Reynnellffeyrth. I have an inward feeHng that tells me so, which no power on earth can set aside. I believe, also, that I am her true and lawful son, born in wedlock ; and whoever says otherwise utters a base lie, and foully calumniates the virtue of my mother and your sister. Be the consequences to myself what theji^ may, I will never acknowledge other than this my behef." " Then you will not sign this paper ?" said Sir Rolend harshly. " Never, while I have breath in my body 1" replied Escape with earnest- ness. '* There is no inducement could make me iso foully wrong my JACK SHEPPERD. I2a mother's memory, or compromise my o^vn honour, by so false an as- sertion." " Headstrong fool !" exclaimed the knight, grinding his teeth, your doom is fixed ; you cannot save yourself now, sign or acknowledge to what you may. 'Tis witless work to parley with idiots ; I should have known it^; neither would I now, but for her No matter. Where is this Johnson ?" he asked, addressing Quilt Arnold, who had been a silent spectator of this SC6I16 Quilt immediately whistled in a shrill manner, and clapped his hands three times. The door opened, and a man habited in a huge round rough jacket which reached to his thighs, petticoat trousers, and large fishmg boots, made his appearance. He bore in his hand a cap made of bearskin. His coun- tenance exhibited a singular compound of cunning and undisguisable viUany. His black matted hair hung loosely over his low forehead, his eyebrows were also black, and so bushv as almost to cover his eyehds ; his features were coarse and strongly marked, and his face was surrounded by a forest of whisker. On entering he said — " Who wants me ?" " Your name is Johnson ?" said the knight, addressing him. " Well !" was the reply. j e uu " You have your directions respecting this boy, who is accused of robbery, from Jonathan Wild. Put them into operation immediately," said the kraght quickly, as if ashamed of giving utterance to the command. The man gave a grim smile, and summoned two men. At this juncture Jonathan Wild en- tered the room. , , , " Well, Sir Rolend !" he exclaimed, " I have fulfilled my part of the agree- ment so lar : ere the remaining part is concluded, I must request you to fulfil yours. I must trouble you for a checque for half the amount agreed upon, and the remainder to be paid when I put you in possession of the information you require, and which I have promised to give you." " You doubt that I shall keep my word :" said Sir Rolend with a scorntui air. " I am not accustomed to break it when once passed. Here," he added, drawino- a quantity of notes from his pocket-book, " is the fifteen hundred pounds" and now I have fulfilled my agreement, you can also do yours to the letter." Jonathan pocketed the notes with a grin of an exulting cunnmg expression, and turning to Johnson said — " Do your duty, Johnson." , The man addressed bowed his head, beckoned his two men, and advanced to Escape. Ere two minutes had elapsed the unfortunate youth was bound hand and foot, gagged, bUndfolded, and carried out of the room. " You wiU see no more of that boy. Sir Knight," said Jonathan, "and the information respecting his parents shall be in your possession in a few days. It is not convenient to tell you now.'' " I shall probably not be in London," suggested the knight. " Never fear, I shall be near you," returned Jonathan, with one of his pe- cuhar smiles. " Quilt," he continued, speaking to his oflicer, and giving at the same time a signal to him, " see Sir Rolend Reynnellfi'eyrth safe. " ^^^^ night. Sir Knight ; we shall meet again soon," concluded Jonathan Wild, bowing him out of the room. The knight turned his back haughtily upon him, and foUowed QuUt Arnold. When they reached the street a party ot men, armed with pikes, stood at the door. As Sir Rolend came out they sur- rounded him, and at the same time Quilt Arnold tapped him on the shoulaer, and showing liim a parchment, said — [[ I arreat you, Sir Rglena ReynneUffeyrth, in the King's name, on the au- ' 124 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF thority of Mr. Jonathan Wild, and by virtue of a warrant from Mr. Walpole, Secretary of State, for high treason." The knight for a moment seemed thunder-stricken, but recoverinj? himself he endeavoured to draw his sword, but was speedily disarmed, and borne ra- , pidly away to Newgate, uttering the bitterest invectives upon the viUany of Jonathan Wild. Without the power of resistance Escape had been carried away and placed in a small place, pitch dark, having a close, disagreeable smell. The bandage and gag were removed, but he was still kept bound. In a few hours, by the rippling sound near his head, he could tell he was upon the water. In this state he lay un iil by the brightness of ghmmering light which forced its way through a crack above him, he judged it was mid-day. He heard the door open, and a flood of light broke in upon him. A man entered bearing a small pitcher of water and some hard biscuits. He unbound Escape, and to his surprise whispered — " You are to be thrown overboard to-night. I cannot prevent that, but I will throw you a cask over, and keep upon that until you are picked up by some fishing boat. Can you swim ?" " Yes," replied Escape. " So much the better. I can't stop. Take no notice; and keep up your spirits," said the man quietly. " Let me see your face, that I may remember who made an effort to save my life. If I escape, in after years I may be of service to you," whispered Escape, using the same caution the man showed. The stranger turned his face to the light, and Escape looked hard at him. He put his finger t© his lip and closed the door after him. Escape drank his water but did not touch his biscuit. He waited hour after hour expecting each moment for some one to come; he saw the little stream of light from the crack grow fainter and fainter, and he knew the day was fast passing away ; at ength it went altogether, and he concluded it was night. Presently the door was opened; he was seized by two persons, but by whom he could not distinguish. He was conveyed up a ladder, and from thence along a narrow plank into a cabin. He saw it was moonlight. He had no r,!tic for reflection. One of the men laid hold of his head, and the other of his fset. The cabin window was wide open ; he was put through, and then found himself struggling in the water. He could swim well ; and he re- membered the man's promise of throwing a cask over. It was a very calm night ; and he found the sloop was but a short distance from him. He swam after it, and saw something floating ; he reached it ; it was a large cask made air-tight. He threw himself over it, and clasped it firmly ; and there was he alone in the broad moonhght, with but that Irail support, on the wide ocean, calmly resigned, and trusting to an all-wise Providence to rescue himfr om a ' watery grave. CHAPTER XX. JACK SHEPPERD COMMITS A SECOND ROBBERY AND IS DPTRCTED, Mrs. Shepperd reached her home broken in spirit, bankrupt in peace of mind, and weak and e.\hausted in frame. She threw herself upeu She bed in JACK SHEPPERD. 125 an agony of tears, and wept with a bitterness which none can appreciate but those who have undergone trials of equal magnitude. Alone in that home whose soHtude had once brought her calmness and resignation, she now felt desolate and deserted by all the world, the very loneliness adding to the feeling of desolation, which the ill-conduct of her misguided son, who was the only tie which bound her to the world, created. Could her son have seen her in that hour of bitterest anguish — the only fond hope she had for nearly fifteen years clung to so tenaciously utterly wrecked — the influence of his vile asso- ciates would have lost its power, and he, possessing great capabihties and in- telligence of character, might have become an ornament to society and a pride and honour to his mother ; but he was not there to witness the utter prostra- tion of happiness she exhibited and felt not, therefore, the change in his feelings which it might have produced. The week passed away, and Sunday morning came, bright and cloudless, gladdening all nature with its brilliancy; the trees and fields looked greener, the flowers looked fresher, the birds warbled more gaily and sweetly in its bright- ness ; there was a cool air abroad, and the people walking in the sunshine had smiles upon their faces, and their laughter rung in the air, showing there was no grief at the heart, the tone was so joyous, so full of pure glee ; and then came the sound of the church bells, summoning the folks round to their de- votions. It was a pleasant sight to see the villagers, old and young, attired in their best and cleanest garments, walking with staid decorous manner to humble the mselves in pure and honest worship before the Almighty. An observer, who had looked on their appearance — the face of nature— the bright skies and the jocund birds, might have asked "Where is there grief or misery near this spot?" Had he looked into the lone chamber of the widow Shepperd he would have said, "It is here!" hke the deadly insect in the heart of the fruit. Kneeling at the foot, with her body and arms extended on the bed, was the broken-hearted mother. What to her was the sunshine, the green trees, and flowers, the happy villagers ? It brought no joy to her; the very contrast made her affliction appear heavier. Poor heart ! there was more grief in store for her. For years ^^he had been accustomed each Sunday to visit the church, and now, when .she had more than ever need of consolation from divine sources, she, although bowed down by grief and shame, would not keep from offering up her prayers in the holy and sanctified spot she had so long hitherto done. She attired herself in her quilt widow's dre^s, and took her way to the church. She kept her head down as she walked along as though she herself had com- mitted some crime, and bowed only to those whom she had been in the habit of conversing with. They saw their was a weight upon her heart, and with a delicacy which exists more commonly among such simple-minded people, than among their better-informed neighbours, they forebore to intrude upon her desire of preserving strict privacy. She entered the church, and among the congregation assembled none there was more sincere, more truly devout, than the lone widow ; she offered up earnestly, almost passionately, prayers for the return of her erring child to the path of honesty; and when the sermon was preached, the text of which was from the epistle of James, chap. v. " Is any among you afflicted ? let him pray ;" the widow listened to an excellent discourse with a feeling approaching to resignation, the first advances to a relief of spirit she had yet experienced. Her seat was but a short distance from the door. A stranger, who had entered late, had found every seat occupied ; he leant against one of the pews, paying great attention to the sermon. Several times Mrs. Shepperd's eyes were at- tracted towards him, for he stood opposite to her, and was clad in a scarlet riding- coat, wUicU looked quite dazzling, for it was apparently quite new, and 126 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF it caught the light strongly. Suddenly, she saw a man advance and stand behind him ; one rapid glance told her it was Jonathan Wild ; she suppressed a scream, and looked on in agony of expectation of something horrid about to happen. She heard nothing, saw nothing, bnt the wretch who had caused her husband's death, and had sworn to destroy her son. Her fixed gaze attracted Jonathan's attention, for his quick eyes were ever on the alert. A flash of re- cognition passed over his features as he saw her ; he gave a grin as if of devilish exultation, and retired a few steps. She saw him cautiously but impatiently beckon to some one to approach, and point to the person in the scarlet coat. A boy glided past him up to the stranger, who still stood paying the greatest attention to the sermon. She saw the boy deliberately dive his hand lightly into a pocket in the scarlet coat, and bring forth a pocket-book ; he turned his face in her direction ; God of Heaven ! It was her son. Jack Shepperd ! She saw the fiendish eyes of Jonathan Wild glittering and sparkling with savage joy; she fancied she heard him screech a yell of triumph ; the place whirled round with her, every object grew indistinct. She shrieked, and fell insensible upon the ground. The stranger started as he heard the scream, and by the motion, felt Jack's hand in his pocket, as the latter, not satisfied with the pocket-book, was on search for something else ; he turned speedily round and grasped at Jack, but he was like an eel, and slipped from beneath the extended hand of the person he had robbed with the utmost swiftness, and darted out of the church ; but the man, though he had missed his hold of him, had not lost sight of him, and followed, crying, " Stop thief." Jack leaped over the grave-stones, was over the church-yard wall, and into the road with a celerity almost in- conceivable ; but he had a niml)le pursuer to cope with, and he was not down the road a hundred yards ere he heard the leap from the wall and the cry of his pursuer. Jack was a good runner and put his speed to the test ; but a circumstance occurred which was quite unforeseen, and rendered his speed of little avail ; the stranger bad a steed which he had fastened in the gateway of the church-yard, and he had mounted it, and galloped after Jack ; in a very short time, the steed being a swift one, he overtook him. When Jack found him so near, he was in hopes to double and to get away ; but before he could accomplish his manoeuvre, the stranger stooped, seized him by the collar, pulled him up, threw him across the saddle, and, turning his horse's head, galloped back again to the church, meeting a mob of the congregation, who had quitted the sacred edifice upon hearing the cry of " Stop thief ;" the beadle was there, and two constables were also in attendance, and into their custody Jack was consigned. He looked round in hopes of seeing Jonathan Wild, but he was nowhere to be seen, and, trolling the burden of a flash song. Jack suff"ered himself to be taken unresistingly to the cage at Hackney. He heard the door locked, and then the retreating steps of the constables ; he hummed an air until they were quite out of hearing, and then he mused upon his condition. " Well," he muttered, " here I am boxed up again ; let me see — Wednes- day. For my first robbery, my first visit was paid to St. Giles's Roundhouse; and here, for my second robbery, on the Sunday following, I am caged in Hackney. Well, it's one comfort this won't be half so difliicult to get out of as St. Giles's, and by the tim.e Sir Oliver is abroad I will be walking through Hackney. It's strange that thought should always be running in my head that the prison is not yet built that will hold me ; I wonder if Newgate would . — Um ! I shouldn't like to try that much ; I wonder if Escape got clear off; if Jonathan has played a cross there, I'll be revenged upon him ; it was lucky those old bosky traps put these ruffles on me, they'll be of use to me in getting out, 1 wonder if they were really fools enough to think these would hold me j JACK SHEPPERD. 1^1 why, they're big enough for my neck;'' he laughed, shpping his hands through the handcuffs with the greatest ease. During the day he was visited by netrly everybody in the parish who had heard of his picking a gentleman s picket in the church, and come to see what such a hardened smner was like and wondered if he had not got cloven feet ; as evening drew on, thev dropped ofF one by one, at last not a soul was near ; there was a chair and table in the place, and he made good use of them ; he clapped the table agamst the wall and the chair upon the table, and mounted it; he found that he could reach the ceihng with the greatest ease, and he immediately commenced working away with the handcuffs until he had broken away the plaster for a good snace • he then broke the laths, but found himself scarce tall enough to get the tiling off which laid rather higher than the lathing ; he jumped down, and proceeded to wrench off one of the legs of the table-this accomplished, it was propped against the wall again, the chair upon it, and he upon that, working briskly with his new implement; m a short Sme the tiles were broken away, and two rafters partly cleared He made a spring and caught hold of them pulling himself up, and was through the opening and out on the roof of the cage in a minute. The dro from the roof to th? ground was but a trifle to Jack, and he accomphshed t easily and safely. He looked right and left, but sound "^/^^^^^^^^^ .^^^^/^^^^^ He knew he was near his mother's cottage, and he thought he would call on he? ; he had a faint remembrance of seeing her at the Mmt, but the drunken, nes^ had so obliterated occurrences that he d smissed it as a dream. _With re- spect to the present affair he had not seen his mother at church. His name 7oL beheved, had not transpired, and therefore he thought he could meet her with a good grace. He little imagined she was so well acquainted with what had pas^sed, ?r he would have made her residence the last place he should have ?hou5ht of visiting. He was, likemse, mistaken m supposmg that his name had K transpired, for Jonathan Wild whose person was "-k--- ^o ^h^ people, had most industriously circulated, ere he decamped, that the thief was the son of the widow Shepperd. Every way it answered his purpose to rnake it kno^^'n for, as the name of Jack Shepperd got circulated with the account of the™bbery,it would assist in preventing Jack's return to hones labour and pLce h/i^ more in his power, enabUng him to carry ou his threat of revenge and likewise his feelmg of mahce and hatred against Mrs. Shepperd, Ts he wdt knew the effect Jack'l conduct would have upon her peace of mind Jack unconscious of this, departed in the direction of his mother's house, and ganed Unobserved. The?e was a faint light struggling m ^e parlour, and he stole UD to the window and looked in; the wooden shutters had not been closed and he was enabled to see into the room without hindrance ; it was the Sow's bedroom, and Jack saw his mother lying, like the b^" Ptured effi upon the noble's omb. Her face was turned upwards, while her hands met over her breast, as in the attitude of prayer Jack made a compansori between h mself and his mother, in which he found he had by no means the advantage aid dmost sighed as h; thought how far he should be from realjsmg any of the fond hopes she had entertained respecting him « Ah, well he ^hough trying to shake off the feeling, " what is to be, will be ! As he did not msli to frighten his mother, he tapped at the door before he raised the latch, with wl^cr mple SsLiAg the d^oor remained all night ; for m that day humb^ Cottagers had httle to ffar from burglary. He hstened a er he had t^pp d as though he heard some slight movement upon the hed he then caUed "Mother, mother I" raised the latch and instantly ^"^ered the bedroom His mother gave a shght scream as he entered, and to ,calm her tears he "''"lufoTly I, Jack, mother, come to see you. Don't be alarmed !" 128 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OP " Who ? What ? in Heaven's name — Jack ?" cried the widow, half-be- wildered. " Yes, mother," said her son, advancing to the bed. " Yes, it is me, don't be frightened," " How have you escaped from the prison ? Have they set you free ? What, — how is it you are here, after that dreadful occurrence of to-day ?" " What, then, do you know ?" asked Jack, with surprise. " Do I know?" echoed his mother, bitterly. " Would to God I had never known it. Oh, Jack, if you knew how you have this day wrung my heart, you would weep tears of blood. Your misconduct the other night did not wound me half so deeply, so terribly as your guilty crime of to-day has done." " Then you were at the Mint the other night ?" said Jack. " Have you so soon forgotten an interview, the memory of which I shall bear with me to the grave?'' asked his mother, looking earnestly at him; and con- tinued " You have known little or nothing of my life during the few years preceding your birth, and for one year after it, or its bitter experience might teach you a better course of conduct. Some scenes of my life were passed in that horrid place, in which it was my grief to see you seated. The last time I was in it, a man, whose fame was great in predictions, in conjuring, who foretold your father's fate, looked upon you, and said, * Poor child ! thy hfe will be a sorry one. A hempen offspring, a hempen death. Thy breath was given thee in the dungeon — it will leave thee at its door. Thou art doomed ! Had those words been impressed upon my heart in an undying fire, they could not be more ineffacibly fixed upon ray memory than they are now. I have never forgotten them ; the,y are ever visible to me, and now they seem brighter than ever, when I see you so fearfully working out the prediction by your conduct. Ah, Jack — Jack ! why have you done this ? What has led you to this disgraceful, wicked path ?" Jack, who had seated himselt upon the foot of the bed, sat working his fin- gers about, hstening to his mother with a do^vncast air. When she had ceased speaking, waiting for his reply, he kept silent for a mmutc or so, and then suddenly asked — " Who told you what I did to-day ?" " My own eyes. Jack ; my own eyes ; and sooner would I have parted with the blessed gift of sight, than have witnessed your guilty act !" " You witnessed it ?" echoed Jack, in astonishment. " How? Where?" " I sat in the church. I had been praying for your restoration to a right path. My eyes were attracted to a man in a scarlet riding-coat ; beyond him I saw enough to blast ray sight, for the form of that cold-blocded, heartless villain, Jonathan Wild, met my gaze. He saw me — knew me ; a malicious exulting grin passed over his features, as he retired beckoning you ; I saw you approach, but did not know you until you had committed the "obbery. You turned your face towards me ; an arrow passing through my b^Jn could not have created greater agony than I felt on recognising you. 'I'hat cne moment destroyed all the effects which thirteen years' quiet had obtained, and has em- bittered every future hour of my existence. I feel my hours are numbered; and now. Jack, believing this may be my deathbed, hear and markmy words —perhaps my last ones ; if ever you had one spark of affection for me — for any one whose good opinion you might desire to gain or retain — forsake your evil ways. You have erred much, but it is not too late to repent. I implore you, for your soul's sake, to hear me, and become — what ,you have every op- portunity of doing — a pride and pleasure to yourself, and to those around you. You know your father's fate. You know what I have endured ; and if you would have me sink at once broken-hearted to the grave, without hope or re- demption, you will give up your wicked companions, and •— .•" JACK SHEPPEKD. Escape Darwell hears news of Jack Shepperd. " Jack !" cried a voice suddenly from the foot of the bed. He started hastily round, and his mother screamed, as Jonathan Wild stood betore them. " What do want here ?" asked Jack, hastily and sullenly. , , ^■ "You," returned Jonathan ; "you have broken prison; it has been dis- covered, and the village is up in search of you. You must away at once, or you will be retaken. Come " ., -nr . i_ ♦ " He shall not go," cried Mrs. Shepperd, earnestly. "^Wretch-monster, you have led him into crime sufficiently. He shall not go.' "You must not stop to listen to this old fool's^ prate," cned Jonathan, ur- gently. " You must come, or you'll be nabbed." . '•• That's my mother," exclaimed Jack; "and no one in my hearing shall speak her name without respect. Don't call her by that name or any other like it again, or I don't stir a peg." . -, ■, n t <,rr, " You may stay here and be caught if you like," cried Jonathan. 1 am off, you had better come. I'll put you where no one will find you until this has all blown over.'' " You will not go," cried his mother, with energy. " I must," answered Jack, " or I shall be nabbed by the traps " Nay," cried Mrs. Shepperd, in an agony of tears, supplicate on mv bended knees for them to paidon No. 17.' I will beg, implore, will tell them I am a 130 THE LIFE ATmD ADVENTURES OF lone wiflow, that you are xny only stay, hope, solace—- they will pardon you, ami we shall yet live happily together." " Come," cried Jonathan Wild, " the opportunity is going. Skyblue is a little distance from here with horses ; we shall be in Loudon in less than an hour," and laying hold of his hand, he led him unresistingly to the door. " Jack," resumed his mother, " hear me, if you do not hate, if you would not inflict madness upon me, if you would not crush mj' heart, uiy spirit, for ever; you will not leave me — do not, for mercy's sake — " " Away, Jack," exclaimed Wild. " Hark — there's Skyblue's signal, the villagers come this way, not a moment is to be lost ; come," and he stood upon the threshold, still drawing Jack along. " You shall not go— or I go with you," cried Mrs. Sheppei'd with frenzy, half rising in the bed. " Mother," exclaimed Jack, making a movement as if to return. "My child — my child!" she energetically uttered, extending her arms to receive him. " Come," cried Jonathan, suddenly dragging Jack out of the room, and closing the door after him. As the door shut them out of her sight, the distracted mother pressed her hands to her beating brain, uttered a long loud scream, and fainted. END OF THE SECOND ERA. CHAPTER XXI. THIRD ERA.— 1726. SHEWS THAT TEN YEARS MAKES MANY CHANGES. Precisely ten years after the events recorded in the last fifteen chapters, a stout portly-looking man stood at his door in Witch-street, it was a fine morning in June, and even in that narrow street there was a faint symptom of a fresh cool breeze wafting along, and the portly man stood as though he would inhale it, and look at the passing people, thus killing two birds with one stone ; he gaz^d right and left, occasionally bowed courteously, or uttered a friendly " good morrow" to those passers who were good customers, or old acquaintances : his house had been freshly painted for the summer season, the month preceding, and still preserved its glittering appearance of newness ; he occasionally came to the curb-stone to gaze upon it ; after feasting his eyes upon it they would then turn upon his own person, and the scrutiny seemed to finish to his entire satisfaction, if we may judge by the satisfied tone of the ' umph' he ejaculated, and the turning over the loose silver and keys in hia pockets, as he stood with his hands in his pockets ; there was a sign board over the door, with a lamb bearing a flag, painted in the first style, and most gorgeously heightened and shaded with gold ; over the lamb was painted, in large bright gold letters, ELIASON DOWLASS, and underneath, WOOLLEN- DRAPER, HOSIER, AND HATTER. As he looked about him, when his survey of his premises hail ceased, his attention was attracted by the appearance of a young man, habited in rather a stylish, but certainly in a most elegant and gentlemanly manner, sauntering up Witch-street, looking with the most curious attention at every house he passed. At length he reached the residence of Mr* Dowlass, JACK SHEPPERD. Kil "Ila," thought Dowlass; "now if he's only gratifyiug his cui-iosity respect'uig the respectability of the several establishments this street confesses, how will his senses be gratified, as he gazes upon mine ; hem ! Fine morning. Sir," he -exclaimed, addressing the stranger. " Yes, very," returned the stranger, looking eai'nestly at the house and at its owner. " Smart and showy, is it not?" said Dowlass, following the stranger's eyes, as they glanced over the premises, and imagining that no other earthly motive but admiration of its appearance could have caused the look. " Yes," replied the stranger, evidently not noticing the remark. " Pray did not a Mr. Woulds formerly inhabit this house ?" " What, old Anthony Wonlds, the carpenter ?" said Dowlass. "The same," answered the stranger. " To be sure he did ; I took this house of him when he retired, and did it up in the way you see," said Dowlass, with an air of importance. " He is alive ?" asked the stranger, as if he feared a reply in the negative. *' Ay, and as well and hearty as he ever was," returned the draper, " he has got a farm the other side of Bayswater, between that and Hanwell ; a rare pretty place, I can assure you, of as choice a view and situation as any this kingdom can boast, and well-stocked too, as I can vouch, from experience, fof I often visit him," ha concluded with a self-sufficient expression. " And his family ?" said the young man, doubtingly. " Ay, Sir, they are alive and well ; that is to say his wife and daughter — he has but one child" — " I know," interrupted the atranger hastily, " and Barbara ! What of her ? how is she ?" " Gently, gently, not to fast, good Sir," said Dowlass, with a smile, " if Mrs. Woulds had heard you, she would not have been so well pleased that you had passed her name over without an inquiry respecting her ; out of re- spect for age I must speak of her first. * Age before honesty.' You know the old adage." " I do," returned the otraager, interrupting him. " Pray, proceed ; my tiroe is precious." " Well, Sir, Mrs. Woulds has prown stouter, but not prettier ; indeed her beauty is rapidly n» the wane. She is growing what the French term passtf — you speak French ? Ah!" he contmued, as the other nodded impatiently, " a great acquisition. I speak it rather fluently too. I spent some time in France — let me se«, it was in the year" — " Mrs. Woulds, if you please. Sir," interrupted the young man, unable to disguise his impatience, and added, with a forced smile, " You forget that you are keeping a lady waiting." Mr. Dowlass extended his eyelids to an unusual width, and exclaimed, in very evident astonishment — " Why, surely, you are not a lady ?" '* You mistake my meaning," laughed the stranger. " I alluded to your want of gallantry in making Mrs. Woulds (who, if I remember rightly, was a particular favourite of yours some years since) wait in your discourse while you spoke of yourself." "Oh! ha! ha! ha! I see your drift," said Dowlass, poking the stranger in the ribs in a jocular manner, " you are impatient to hear all about the family. Ha ! ha ! ha ! I had you there, eh f " " Yes ! yes ! go on ;" urgently uttered the young man. " Let me see, where was I ?" continued Dowlass. " Oh, talking about Mrs. Woulds- Well, Sir, if you knew much of her, you may remember that 1 er temper was not too sweet — ray ther vinegar-y. Well, it ia now as though you 132 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF bad added six parte of the most powerful acid, and ten parts of some acrkno- riioua substance to it ; it is a temper ; such a vile one is rarely seen, and Mr. Woulds, most singular to say, gets actually fat under its influence. I should he a skeleton in a very short time — indeed a corpse — an undoubted corpse — • if I had to live wiih her." " And the daughter ?" suggested the young stranger. "Why, now, we come to the sweets; did you ever see her?" inquired Dowlass, as a kind of preliminary to his description of her ; and drew himself up for a touch of the poetic. Did you ever see her?" he reiterated. " Oh, yes," replied the stranger, quickly, " but it was some years since," he added, checking his rapid assent. " How many, may I ask ?" interrogated Dowlaas. " Ten years," replied the young man. " Then you have a pleasure to come, if you are going to see her," answered Dowlass. " S e is about twenty-three years of age, as well as I can re- member ; but she looks sweet seventeen ; her eyes are as blue as an Italian sky, and as mild ; her nose, I think, excels that of the Grecian Venus, and her lips have the hue of the coral, the transparency of the ruby, and the faultless shape of Cupid's bow; her complexion has the whiteness of the marble called parian, while the colour of her cheek resembles the tint which an exquisite pink satin would, when placed near it, throw upon alabaster ; her hair she does not wear in the present mode ; it has not the powder or the dressing which our fine ladies are so proud of displaying ; it is as nature formed it, she binds it usually with a fillet of blue ribbon, and it descends in clusters round her neck and shoulders, administering delicious death in every turn of the curls ; she is not tall nor large, but she is much removed from diminutiveness; her figure is certainly of the most ravishing proportion; indeed I made four lines upon her, the only attempt at poetry I ever made. Certainly I had never anything so extremely delightful to call my poetical powers into action. Allow me to trouble you with them." " With pleasure," assented the stranger. Dowlass smiled and continued — " I know a maid whose form and face are both so wondrous fair, That, search the globe around and through, you'll not find anywhere One to compare, or place but Heav'n, that's tit to harbour her, I'd give up all I own in life to have the love of Barbara Woulds ! " Very choice, indeed," said the stranger, with a sneer, which the self- esteem of the draper prevented him noticing ; there was a peculiar feeling which the young man possessed, that made him not feel over comfortable, pleased as he might be, to hear of Barbara's improvement ; he was certainly not gratified that her praises should come in such enthusiastic terms, from one whom he had known to have been a rake, and whose morals were, at least some years since, excessively loose — it was therefore with rather a dis- pleased air, that he cut short the colloquy respecting Barbara, by asking "What is the name of the place in which Mr. Woulds farm is situated ? " " it is called West-end Hill Farm ; it is on the Acton road, but lies to the left, half-way between Hanwell and Bayswater, when vou get to Westbourne Green ask any one, they will direct you, for Mr. Woulds is well known about there ; and now. Sir, since you have asked me so many questions, I will take the liberty of putting one to you : who may I have the honour of addressing ?" " Thank you, and good morning," said the stranger, hurrying out of the shop, leaving Mr. Dowlass in a state of amaze. iACK SHEPPERD. 183 On quittlnff Dowlass's shop, the young stranger retraced bte steps to the bottom of Witch-street, and mounted a high spirited horse, which a man was holding by the bridle, he threw the man a silver coin, and inquired his route to Bayswater ; the man gave him the necessary directions and he started off at good speed. He passed through Bayswater, and pulled up at a small roadside inn to refresh himself and horse, which he had ridden since five in the morning ; he called for a frugal dinner, and when he had despatched it he seated himself near the window to look at the surrounding scenery, but although very beautiful, and to a taste like his, in the highest degree pleasing, it failed to keep his attention long in subjection, and he fell into a long deep train of thought ; sinking bacls into his chair he became quite abstracted ; he was at length aroused from it by hearing a man's voice singing in a clear musical tone — " Good even I" the stranger right meiTlly cried — " Good even !" the traveller faintly replied. " I'm glad we have met," said the stranger with glee ; " For I very much fear highway robbery, And that terrible Claude Du Val!" He started from his seat and looked out of the window; he saw two persons upon horseback close by the window ; one of them, considerably younger than the other, dressed very gaily, was the person singing ; as he passed he turned his eyes upon the stranger, who was staring very hard at him ; for a moment the young horseman returned the gaze with a cool insolent look, suddenly the expression of his features changed ; the stranger's voice broke upon his ear exclaiming — " Jack Shepperd !" "Escape Darwell!" he replied, and brought his steed to a standstill, with the intention of alighting, then suddenly his features became a deep scarlet, and uttering a hasty exclamation to his companion, he put spurs to his horse, and galloped off at full speed. Escape Darwell, for it was him who had addressed the rider by the name of Jack Shepperd, hesitated whether he should not follow the rout the horsemen had taken, and endeavour to overtake them ; ten long years had he been absent from England, that very morning only, at the hour of five, had he landed ; he had heard nothing of the adventures and behaviour of his fellow apprentice, durmg his absence, and now he had seen him so gaily attired, he wondered what earthly motive could induce him to fly from his presence " I will follow him and see," exclaimed Darwell, speaking, unconsciously, aloud. " What should he fly from me for ?" " Perhaps he mistook you. Sir, for some gentleman whom he has robbed," said a voice behind him. He turned and looked at the speaker, who was the landlord of the house he was in, with some astonishment. " Robbed !" he reiterated. " Ay, Sir," retvuTied the landlord, " I repeat, robbed ; you are alluding to Jack Shepperd, who went by just this moment, are you not ?" " I am," replied Escape; "but why do you couple his name with robbery?" he inquired. The landlord looked at Escape as if he doubted that he heard aright. " Not couple Jack Shepperd's name with robbery? how can you separate them? he asked, with much sm-prise depicted on his countenance. " Why, you never hear his name," he continued, " but it is in connection either with some extraordinary burglar or some astonishing piece of prison breaking, for which latter he has become very celebrated indeed ; it is his constant boast that the ' prison is not built that will hold him,' and it seems like it, too, for he has been imprisoned several times, caged numberless ones, but he has invariably managed to escape ; 134 ; THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF his skUl and faciUty Hipickins locks and filing chains, or removing any iinpedi- ment in his way in escaping or entering a house is perfectly astounding-^in fact, it is these extraordinary qualities that have made him so famous ; not couple his name vrith robbery, forsooth, ha, ha, ha ! Why, where have you been. Sir, that you did not know Jack Shepperd was the most famous housebreaker upon record ?" " I only landed in this country this morning. I have been absent ten years. I knew Jack Shepperd before I went away, and have not heard anything re- specting him since my departure; your recital of his exploits astonish me !" said Escape, in reply. " So they do every one," answered 'the landlord, " every exploit seems more daring than the preceding, and Jack Shepperd's name is more common in people's mouths than any other topic afloat." " Do you know Mr. Woulds, of West-end Hill ? asked Escape, changing the subject. "What, old Anthony Woulds, formerly of Witch-street, carpenter?" said the landlord, jollily, " to be sure I do, and a fine worthy old trump he is ; I can give you any information you want there too : try me,*' " I am in possession of much respecting him, for I called on an old friend of his this morning, Mr. Dowlasi, a woollen-draper, who gave me nearly all the information I required," repUed Eecape. " What, Dowlass, oh ! ha, ha, ha ! did you see his wife, eh ? oh I ha, ha, ha !" asked the landlord, laughing tdl the tears came in his eyes in exquisite enjoy- ment of his recollection of the lady. " No !" returned Escape. " Then, Sir, you missed a treat, I assure you," rephed the landlord, "perhaps Sir, if you knew anything of Mr. Woulds' tamily some years since, you may perhaps be aware that there was an intimacy between Mr. Dowlass, Captain Dowlass he styled himeelf ia that day, and Mrs. Woulds, an intimacy which was rather too affectionate to be right and proper between a single man and married woman. He used to boast of it, and it did get two or three times to Anthony Woulds' ears, but they got oTer him some how ; he was so very good and kind-hearted himself, that he was incredulous of such evil and rascahty in others, and therefore would not permit himself to beUeve it ; however, Mr. Dowlass, I believe, got tired of Mrs. Woulds, and rather frightened of her temper j by some strange means he became acquainted with a woman of in- famous character named Mary Stubbing*, but nicknamed, from her size and fighting qualities, Moll Wallop. The woman's personal appearance when he first made hex acquaintance was not altogether bad, but her masculine manners, her conversation, and conduct, were frightful 5 he intended only to have an in- trigue with her, for she was really common, but she frightened — nay, she beat him into marrying her, and her conduct, her beastly intemperance ever since, have been disgraceful and disgusting beyond description ; this I consider a judgment upon him for his previous conduct, for he made it his study and practice to seduce other men's wives and then boast of his success ; he has it now returned to him, for his wife indulges in intrigues with any smart fellow that shetakes a fancy too, and will comply with her wishes; she then makes a boast of it, and if he makes any demur, she beats him imtil he professes himself satisfied with her conduct as a woman of spirit. Oh lord! oh lord! she is a fiend incarnate ; but it serves him justly right, if it were only for his behaviour to old Woulds, who was a steady friend to him in his horn* of need, when through his political intrigues his property was confiscated, and his Ufe forfeited to the State 5 Woulds, at personal risk, saved his life, got him pardoned, and set him up in his own place,' where if you saw him to day you beheld him en- joying the fruits of Anthony Woulds' bounty," JACK SHEPPERD. 135 " I did," said Escape. " So Barbara \Vould§ is married ?" he asked iii a low tone, with an endeavour to appear indifferent. " Oh no !" returned the landlord, " she fell in love, I am told, when quite a little girl with an apprentice of her father's, who was kidnapped years ago, whom she cherishes in her memory without a rival; she has had plenty of suitors who would have been glad to have had her without the ' penny' (and that's no trifle) that her father will dower her with ; but no, she will have the lad of her heart or none at all !" "Heaven bless her !" ejaculated Escape fervently. " Hey dey I" exclaimed the landlord, " what makes you cry out thus wai-mly in her favour ?" " Heaven bless any woman that keeps true faith for the honour of the sex, I say, and so will say all true men ; and I honour it especially in her for I knew her when young, and I am proud to find that she thus redeems the promise ot her early years, that she is worthy to be the daughter of honest old Anthony Woulds." ^ , . " Well said. Sir," said the landlord, with an air of great pleasure, " I admire your sentiments." " Let me have my bill, and get my horse ready, for I mean to pay the old gentleman a visit at once," said Escape. " Certainly Sir, and say if you please that his old friend, Tom Buck, desired his heartiest remembrance to him. " I will," replied Escape. He paid his bill, and having received unerring directions to Woulds house, he departed ; as he rode along he dwelt with some satisfaction upon the good in- telligence he had received respecting his first benefactor, and also upon the glad tidings of the tmth of Barbara ; he drew from his breast the cornelian heart which Barbara had presented to him the last evening he had seen her for ten long years, and pre&sed it to his lips with fervency, while the tears gushed into his eyes at the recollection of the affection she had ever shown him. It was about six in the evening when he arrived at West-end farm ; if there is one sight more than another which gladdens the heart of an Enghshman who loves the old country that gave him birth, it is to see a thorough right down good English farm ; to see the large thatched house neat in all its appoint- ments, the well-contrived barns, outhouses, and stables, the hay-ricks well stocked, the farm servants all employed, the cattle in good order, and poultry in swarms, v^ith pigs, and all the concomitants, exhibiting industry and good management combined with wealth ; this did Escape meet with when he reached the re'sidence of Mr. Woulds, and as he rode into the yard, a servant came and took his horse, whUe a neatly dressed maid showed him into the house ; he en- tered a parlour and at one side of an open window was seated Anthony Woulds, enjoying his pipe and glass of grog previous to the supper just about to be served; at the other side of the window sat a lady of a buxom stout appearance, she was gaudily dressed, and immensely rouged ; she was reading a book by the aid of spectacles, which, as soon as she saw a stranger entering were snatched from their resting place with the speed of hghtning and forthwith consigned to a side pocket. Escape looked round the room and felt disappointed to find that there was no other person in the room ; but shaking off the sudden check it produced on his spirits, he advanced and said — " Good even to you, Mr. Woulds ; you will excuse this self-introduction, but I have just come from abroad, and have brought you news from one to whom at least you were dear, if he was not to you." ^' Good even. Sir, pray be seated," said Woulds. rising, and shaking him heartily by the hand, " I'm glad to see you, friend, if you bring tidings from an old friend— or if you do not, I am glad to see all who come in a friendly 136 THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF way to West-end Farm ; but as to my having an old friend who was dear to me abroad, I can't say I recollect any one." " Did no one you were attached to you leave you ten years since ?" abked Escape, trying to conlmand his voice. " None'; but one; and he perished at sea," said Woulds, drawing his cuff hastily across his eyes, to brush away a tear; " but don't speak of poor Escape Darwell, it always makes a woman of me ; and if my poor lass Barby were here, you would have a flood." " Ay," chimed in Mrs. Woulds, " poor Escape, he was a nice lad, a good lad ; heaven rest his soul." " But he is not dead," returned Escape, with quivering lip. " He is — father— mother — have you forgotten me ?" he cried, for he could not preserve his incognito — his heart was too full. " Escape!" cried and screamed Mr. Woulds and his wife in a breath, and both rushed to embrace him. When the burst of feeling had a little subsided, Mr. Woulds, between a laugh and a cry, exclaimed — " I thought I knew your voice; every word you uttered seemed to rap my heart like a drumstick on a drumhead. God bless my soul ! and to rome back to your old father again. That eternal scoundrel, Jonathan Wild, made me believe that you had fallen overboard, and had perished at sea. The liar ! Faugh upon him!" " It was no fault of his that I did not," returned Escape- " However, all their vile intentions were frustrated ; but of this anon. Where is Barbara ? I long to see her." " Poor lass !" said her father, " she thinks you dead ; she has mourned enough for thy sake, Escape. I'll warrant me we must break your arrival to her by degrees, or the sudden shock may kill her." " Pooh! stuff and nonsense!" cried Mrs. Woulds. *' Kill a fiddle stick's- end. Girls' hearts are not so easily broken ; they're much tougher than they're given credit for ; I know it. She's in the flower-garden at the left-hand side of the orchard. At the bottom of the garden you'll find an arbour, you're sure to find her seated there at work. Go and surprise her, she'll be glad to see you instead of dying at the sight of you." Escape needed no second telling, for he was out at the door and along by the orchard in a trice. He passed down the flower garden, in the hopes of gaining the arbour without being seen, but that he found an impossibility, as it was situated in the centre of the end side, and a person seated in it could not fail to see the approach of any one coming down the garden. Barbara was seated busily occupied in working a piece of embroidery ; she heard footsteps approach, and, on raising her head, saw a tall, elegant- looking young man advancing ; she felt her heart beat ; she knew not why ; as he drew nearer, and perceived that she was gazing on him, he lifted his hat, and bowing, placed it so before his face that no feature but his eyes were visible. Barbara rose to receive him, and waited in silence his ad- dressing her; he saluted her by name, and said he had brought her intelli- gence from one far away whom she had thought dead. At the sound of his voice, a flush passed across her brow, and she started as the well-remembered tones met her ear. She looked earnestly at him, and stood trembling with expectancy — there could be but one to whom he alluded. " Escape is not dead !" she uttered, eagerly, yet apprehensively. " No," replied Escape, with an effort to repress his feelings, " he commis- sioned me to see you, and assure you of his unchangeable affection." " Thank heaven!" fervently exclaimed Barbara ; " and you. Sir, I hope,, will accept my best^thanks for your kindness. I have a thousand questions to ask; I hope I shall not tire your patience ?" JACK SHEPPERI). //" / /jM^Ji/ "J'^-iii Murder of Mrs. Woulds by SkybUie. "Barbara'." exclaimed Escape, unable longer to maintain his assumed, character. R^rbara as soon as she heard her name called in the " ^^'^^^^ '"'fT^,^^^^ that voice was none but thinel" old tone. It is! It 13 *;f/P;- , , ^^^^-^^ a burst of tears came to and she Aun. herself into ^- ^ -^^^'^j^^^St ariour. and though there had her relief. Half an ^^o"^;^\* 'P\"u' seemed to have said little or nothing been a conversation all the while they seeme^a ^^ ^^^^ ^ to each other when a f^^rvant came to ^"^^'-i^^^.,, fP^med. In the pleasant meal, and much talkmg -X, "^Lnnerd was introduced, bourse of conversation the n^meoUa^^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^ .i:ats';a?d\TidThecresVa bad stock; his fa.her was a wretch, -:; 5;:>:rti^r5?r: sKpperd - ^^^^- t^srsnid^tK^ ^^. ' afdroinr^^^^^^^^^^ -^-'« ^-^^' '-'' '- ''- Shepperd's." .^^mfnlW pchoed Mrs. Woulds. " No, no, me otherwise." No. 18. 13S THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF " I am sure," cried Barbara, " j'ou wrong both my father and Mrs. Shep- perd. I am well convinced that neither are capable of such wickedness." "All stuff!" Mrs. Would s exclaimed, " don'i tell me; and you coun- tenance them both in it ; going off" to see the reprobate hussey, taking her this, that, and the other, on the pretence "that the poor broken-hearted creature has no one else in the \nde world to assist her but us." I have suffered it to go on for some time without interfering or preventing it, but the patience of an angel may be exhausted, and I tell you that I shall put a stop to it, and that very shortly too; so be prepared for it." " What has become of her ?'' asked Escape. " Why," said Woulds, mournfull)', " when she learned that he had robbed me " " Robbed you r" interrupted Escape, with surprise. " Did Jack ever rob you ?" " Rob him!" said Mrs. Woulds; "to be sure he did; and me of all my jewels and wearing apparel — left me not a rag. All my choice jewels, my su- perb silks and satins, every man-jack of t'lem stolen. But, my old gentleman there, would not prosecute and hang the young, ungrateful thief, because, for- sooth, of the mother's sake ; like an old fool as he is !" " Yes," continued Woulds, not heeding his wife's outbreak ; *'she came to me and upon her bended knees, implored for mercy — I don't know what she said— it made my heart bleed to see how utterly — how entirely Jack's conduct had destroyed her every hope. I did not appear, and Jack escaped ; but it turned her brain, and she is now in Bedlam. Poor creature ! poor creature ! What a life of misery has she undergone!" " I cannot conceive," remarked Escape, "how Jack could have become so entirely depraved." " Oh," replied Woulds, "he got into the clutches of Jonathan Wild, who had sworn his ruin, and he is accomplishing it as fast as he can." " Does that scoundrel still hold the influence he had when I was torn away ?" asked Escape. " Yes,'' replied Woulds, " as great as ever. He has been of some service to Government, and they still grant him the powers they invested him with during the Jacobite struggle ; but I am convinced it is only for a time ; I shall live to see him hanged. I told him so, and you may rest assured it will not be for want of my assistance." " Do you know what has become of Sir Rolend Reynnellflfeyrth ?" inquired Escape. " On the night J'OU disappeared," returned Woulds, "Jonathan Wild ar- rested him on a charge of high treason ; but it is believed that by bribery of Wild by Sir Rolend with an immense sum, he brought him through it safely. He is now at his estates in Staffordshire." " It IS now growing late," said Escape, mthout making comment upon the foregoing speech of Woulds, " and I must defer a recital of my adventures till morning. I told you how I was picked up at sea by a fishing smack, which conveyed me to France; while there I got a situation in a merchant's house as clerk ; by a series of Jortunate occurrences I became private secretary to the minister, and have no reason to complain of pecuniary success. The first opportunity that offered a return I ptiedily seized, and here I am." " And the l^ord knows, a most welcome visitor to all," responded Woulds, with true sincerity. With a few more complimentary speeches, maintained with vigour, they se- parated for tbe night — one of them for ever. JACK SHEPPERD. CHAPTEl XXII. THE MURDER AT WEST-END FAR^J. " What made you kmmas so fast from the cove at the lush ken ?" asl