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 Of ILLINOIS 
 
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 Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/blueskinromanceo01vile
 
 LUESKIN: 
 
 %, Romance oi'tht ^asi Century. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 "BLACK BESS; OR, THE KNIGHT OF THE ROAD, 
 
 ETC., ETC. 
 
 WITH ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-SEVEN ORIGINAL ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 LONDON : 
 E. HARRISON, SALISBURY SQUARE, FLEET STREET.
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED BY HARRISON AND JEHRINO, STEAM PRDnTNG WORKS, 
 
 PORTPOOL LANE, GRAY'S INN ROAD.
 
 * 
 
 do 
 
 ?^3 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 Tue prefixion of a preface to a work which has been so long before 
 the public as the present would be a work of supererogation did not the 
 Author feel that he could not allow so favourable an opportunity of thanking 
 his patrons to escape him. 
 
 On his own and the Publisher's behalf, then, the Author begs to 
 express his warmest thanks for the very unusual amount of support which 
 this Romance has received for so long a period. 
 
 1
 
 B LUE8KI 
 
 & Romance. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF 
 
 " BLACK BESS: OR THE KNIGHT OF THE ROAD." 
 
 [jack sheppaud knocks down the avatchman in wych street.] 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IMPRECATES HIS MASTER. — THE FALSE 
 CHARGE. — THE ARREST. 
 
 "Curse )v,_ tail Curse you all, I say! My bitterest 
 curses on you ! I Lave borne so far all that you, in the 
 spite and malice of your disposition, could heap upon me 
 
 (without a word, though my heart was full of bitterness 
 all the time! But I will not bear it any longer! It is 
 ihe last drop that m^kes the eup run over, and you have 
 
 added that drop to-night! Curse you for doing so! 
 Curse you for doing so ! Curse you for all th9 indignities 
 that you have heaped upon me at every opportunity ! " 
 
 It was with a hoarse voice — clenched band? — and fierce 
 gestures that these words were uttered. 
 
 As he finished the speaker stepped out from the shadow 
 of the houses where he had been standing into the centre 
 of the roadway, and shook his fists menacingly at one oi 
 the dwellings opposite. 
 
 The church of St. Clement Danes, in the Strand, chimed 
 
 Nos. 1 and 2. 
 SRATlb witai tnese Humbers, in Illuminated Wrapper, The COLOURS!* FICTUB3 
 Of EDGWORTH BESS BEING- RESCUES FROM THE MOHAWE1 BT 
 WLONEL TFORNL'
 
 the hour of three-quarters past eleven. The pleasant, 
 musical sounds arose distinctly on the night air, for at 
 that hour, a hundred and fifty years ago, London was 
 comparatively silent. 
 
 All the shops in Wych-street — for it was there the 
 person stood who had given utterance to such terrible 
 words — had b»en long since closed, and the tnoroujrbfare 
 was dark and deserted. 
 
 There was, however, just light enough to reveal a 
 shadowy figure, and the house at which he levelled his 
 imprecations. 
 
 It was a common-looking old-fashioned structure, en- 
 tirely built of wood. 
 
 The casements were small, and each story of the house 
 overhung the other. 
 A signboard reached over the shop-door and window. 
 It was black, and had some hungry -looking white 
 letters painted upon it. 
 
 They stood out boldly from the background, and read 
 as follows : — 
 
 " John Roots, Carpenter and Joiner." 
 From one or two of the other houses in the street a 
 faint beam of light issued from some of the upner win- 
 dows, but the house we have specified, as well as those 
 on either side of it, was in profound darkness. There 
 was not the dimmest ray to show that they were in- 
 habited. 
 
 But, hark ! The 6trange figure in the roadway, as 
 he looks up at the dark and silent habitation, speaks 
 again. 
 
 His voice has a solemn and sepulchral tone as he utters 
 that which may be construed into a warning. 
 
 " Beware ! John Roots, beware ! for the day of reckon- 
 ing will surely come ! It is I — Jack Sheppard — your ill- 
 treated apprentice, who speaks — who curses you from the 
 bottom of his heart, yet bids you beware! You have driven 
 me from your house into the streets, penniless — a beggar ! 
 Beware of the result ! My disposition is, as you say, an evil 
 one ! Granted that it is ! But you, as my spiritual as well 
 ns worldly master, should have tried to make me better! 
 How have you done so ? Ha ! ha ! How have you done so ? 
 You have reviled me — degraded me — treated me like a dog ! 
 Was that the way to improve what you are pleased to 
 cail an evil disposition ? No, John Roots, you know it is 
 not — but the way to make bad worse ! You have succeeded, 
 and will succeed, no doubt ; but, if you do, then I say 
 again, Beware ! beware ! for, sooner or later, the hour will 
 arrive when you will have to answer for your treatment 
 r>f me ! And then, when that time comes, tremble and 
 beware ! You have made me an outcast, have driven me 
 into the path of crime, and the consequences of your 
 actions be upon your own head ! " 
 
 He paused, breathless and exhausted from the violence 
 of his emotions. 
 
 He had drawn himself to his full height, and looked 
 around him defiantly, and if any one had been near enough 
 to observe his countenance, they would have seen upon it 
 an expression of deep determination. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was at this period just over twenty 
 years of age. 
 
 He was short, and very slightly made; indeed, he \s 
 best described by the word diminutive. 
 
 But, thin and fragile as he at first sight looked, a second 
 glance would show he was of that wiry sort which is 
 endowed with great bodily strength and uncommon powers 
 of endurance. 
 
 His head was small and bullet-shaped. 
 His features were delicate and regular, but marred by 
 the sharp cunning look which they invariably bore. 
 
 It would seem by his manner that he anticipated what 
 he had said would call forth some notice from the house 
 of Mr. Hoots, but it did not ; all remained just as it was 
 before. 
 
 He ground his teeth with disappointment 
 No doubt he would have felt it to be a solace if he could 
 have returned his master some of the abuse, which, 
 according to his account he had heaped upon him. 
 
 But though there was no one to listen to him, he spon.e ; 
 the angry passions that were tumulting in his breast would 
 not suffer him to continue silent. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! you sleep now — sieep soundly ! What care 
 vou for the poor boy who was delivered into your keeping ? 
 feotbiua ! He may beg, starve, steal, anything ! You 
 
 care not. But you shall care! Yes, as surely :i3 there is 
 a Heaven above me, I will male you care! I r. \,ar it! 
 and I will keep my oath ! " 
 
 A sudden and piercing gust of wind swept d >vt the 
 street at this moment, and Jack was fain to draw his 
 scanty clothing still closer around his person. 
 
 Then the many churches in the old sleeoing ev^y pealed 
 forth the hour of midnight. 
 
 One after another did the clocks commence striking, 
 and it was full five minutes before the last chime died 
 away. 
 
 " So late ! " ejaculated Jack. " I will begone. It is 
 folly to stay here and imprecate a senseless building ! 
 Would that I could see you once again, John Boots, for, 
 if you held open to me your door in peace, I feel that I 
 could forget the past, and enter. Enter and be saved ! " 
 
 These last words were uttered in a sad, half-repentant 
 tone, and there is no question that if a hand had been 
 held out to him, he would have suffered himself to be led 
 in the right direction. 
 
 But it was not so to be. 
 
 Scarcely had the words left hifi lips, than one of the 
 windows of the house in which John Roots dwelt was 
 thrown violently open. 
 
 It swung back against the wall with a loud crash. 
 
 A face was projected from it. 
 
 It looked strangely forbidding in that darksome street. 
 
 " John Roots ! " exclaimed Jack, involuntarily, as he 
 recognised the countenance of his master. 
 
 A harsh, disagreeable, grating voice now spoke. 
 
 " Oh ! it's you, you young scoundrel, is it ? What do 
 you mean, you gallows whelp ? I'll have you put in jail, I 
 will ! Didn't 1 tell you never to come near my house 
 again, you thief? What do you mean by coming and 
 standing in the street at twelve o'clock at night, and 
 cursing me in that style P Take that ! " 
 
 John Roots threw some heavy object from the window 
 at his apprentice. 
 
 Jack saw it coming, and he ducked his head. 
 
 It passed him by a hair's breadth. 
 
 In his rage, and seeing nothing else at hand, Jack's 
 master had seized the looking-glass that was on his table, 
 and hurled it at Sheppard's head. 
 
 It came down with a terrific smash on to the stones, 
 and broke into a thousand pieces. 
 
 They flew about in every direction. 
 
 The angry passions which had a home in Jack's heart, 
 flamed up like a torch. 
 
 He drew himself once more up to his full height. 
 
 The foam of passion was on his lips. 
 
 " John Roots ! " he said, in wild, screaming tones, 
 " listen to me ! You have called me a thief ! Heaven 
 knows I am not one yet, but I know not how soon I may 
 be ! Once more I curse you ! Curse you from the bottom 
 of my heart ! You shall yet live to repent your treatment 
 of me, for I will have my revenge upon you ! " 
 
 " Ha— ha ! " 
 
 "You may laugh, John Roots, you may laugh, and 
 affect to despise what I say ! The day will come when 
 you will wish you had rather thrust your hand into a 
 furnace than treated me as you have ! My father died at 
 Tyburn, I know full well ! But I was a child then, unable 
 even to speak ! How, then, could I help what he did ? 
 Could I control his actions ? Why should the stigma of his 
 guilt be fixed upon my character ? It has done so, John 
 Roots! It has done so! No one knows that better than your- 
 self! When, I wonder, did you let slip an opportunity 
 of taunting me with it ? Even when we were in the presence 
 of those whose good wishes and sympathies I was anxious 
 to obtain ? Never, John Roots, never ! It is that which 
 has always preyed upon my mind, and could I help it 
 doing so? It is that which has soured my temper, 
 filled my breast with angry passions, and made me sullen 
 and morose ! It is your fault, and I curse you for it ? 
 curse you a thousand times ! Well, full well, you know 
 that 1 am innocent of the theft which you, in the malevo- 
 lence of your heart, accused me of.' I would have scorned 
 to have taken anything of yours! I am not guilty, John 
 Roots, but, through your representations, many believe 1 
 am ! For all this, as well as for your conduct j on this 
 night, will I take a terrible and bitter vengeance ' " 
 
 " Begone, villain," shouted Mr. Roots, as suou a» ne 
 had a chance of making himself beard ; for the rapidity
 
 with which Jack Sheppard had poured forth this torrent 
 of passionate invective had precluded all ideas of inter- 
 ruption. " Begoue, villain! begone, I say. Come no 
 more near ray house. Begone at once ! 1 will not be 
 cursed and abused thus in the open street by such as you. 
 I tell you you are a thief! The gallows is imprinted on 
 your face, and to it you will surely come at last ! " 
 
 Jack tried to utter the passionate words that sprang to 
 his lips, but he could only give utterance to an ic°.rticuMe 
 howl of rage. 
 
 " Here, herb ■. stop that, if you please ! stop that ! 
 People can't be woke up out of their blessed sleep by the 
 likes of you. Stop it, or it will be the worse for you ! " 
 
 As these words were spoken in a whrszing, gasping 
 Bort of voice, Jack felt himself clutched tightly round the 
 throat by some one behind him, who had stolen unawares 
 upon the scene. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GIVES THE REAPER SOME IDEA OF THE MANNER IN 
 WHICH JONATHAN WILD CARRIED ON BUSINESS. 
 
 Next door to Newgate ! 
 
 That was where Jonathan Wild lived. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, the great ! 
 
 That extraordinary man, who combined so skilfully and 
 well those two seemingly antagonistic occupations, thief, 
 and thief-taker. 
 
 The house which he inhabited adjoined the prison- 
 wall. 
 
 Gloomy — rambling — dilapidated. 
 
 Those three words contain the essence of a description 
 of its appearance without and within. 
 
 We are really sorry, for the sake of our readers, that 
 this house is no longer in existence. 
 
 We are quite sure if it was, they would, one and all, 
 at the very first opportunity, take a stroll along Newgate- 
 street, and have a good look at it. 
 
 It would have amply repaid them for their trouble. 
 
 Unfortunately, the house was burned down to the 
 ground nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. 
 
 Our readers will, therefore, be deprived of the pleasure 
 of seeing it with any other eyes than those of their imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 Should, however, they feel sufficient interest in the 
 matter to go and look at the spot on which it stood, they 
 will be able to form a tolerable idea of its size, from the 
 fact that three large houses have since been built upon 
 the ground it occupied. 
 
 At precisely twelve o'clock noon, on Monday, the tenth 
 day of August, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven 
 hundred and twenty-one, Jonathan Wild entered one of 
 the rooms in his mansion, and slammed the door behind 
 him. 
 
 This room he facetiously designated as his " office." 
 
 Why we know not, for only a. small portion of his busi- 
 ness was conducted there. 
 
 It was a low-ceilinged, dingy -looking room at the back 
 of the house, and very scantily furnished. 
 
 The floor was bare. 
 
 So were the walls. 
 
 One window only was in the room, and that was so 
 incrusted with dirt, and festooned with the cobwebs of 
 industrious spiders, who had gone on year after year 
 spinning away undisturbed, that but a very small and 
 insufficient quantity of daylight found its way in. 
 
 There was, however, one inquisitive sunbeam who used, 
 with praiseworthy perseverance, to try for about an hour 
 every day to take a peep at the interior of Wild's office, 
 but he always had to give up the attempt in disgust. 
 
 But, although he had been baffled some hundreds of 
 times, he did not relinquish the hope of gratifying his 
 curiosity, but renewed the attack every day — that is, when 
 the envious clouds would let him — until at last it grevy 
 into-quite a settled habit. 
 
 On this particular morning, however, the curious sun- 
 beam fouud the atmosphere in the yard at the back of 
 Wild's house so clear and free from smoke that he re- 
 solved to make one last and desperate effort to accomplish 
 his purpose. 
 
 He succeeded, and actually had the audacity, when Wild 
 entered the office, to look the great thief-taker full in the 
 face. 
 
 Jonathan winked and blinked like an owl. 
 
 But Wild was too full of thought that morning to take 
 much notice of the intrusion of a prying sunbeam into his 
 sanctum. 
 
 He merely gave a zoological sort of snarl. 
 
 Then he seated himself at his desk ; along the front of 
 which was a row of little wooden railings placed about 
 iniif-an-inch apart. 
 
 Just in the middle, three or four of these railings had 
 been knocked out, leaving an opening large enough to 
 allow of a hand being passed through it. 
 
 This desk divided the office into two portions, and was 
 so placed that, as Jonathan sat at it, the window was 
 behind him. 
 
 An advantageous arrangement in two respects. 
 
 Whoever stood in front of this desk had his face to the 
 light, so that Wild could narrowly watch every expression 
 of it, and form an estimate of how far the person who 
 stood before him was speaking the truth. 
 
 But those who were thus scrutinized could not scrutinize 
 Wild in return. Oh ! no. As he sat with his back to the 
 grimy window, his face was in deep shadow. 
 
 Wild settled himself on his stool. 
 
 He took off his hat, and deliberately laid it down on 
 the desk. 
 
 Then, with a very peculiar twitch, he pulled his dirty 
 white wig over his forehead and eyebrows. 
 
 This gave him a very remarkable appearance, and added 
 to his natural ugliness in no small degree. 
 
 It was one of Wild's little eccentricities to endeavour to 
 make himself look as hideous as he possibly could. 
 
 We give him credit for succeeding in his efforts. 
 
 His face could never have been a very handsome one 
 but now it was seamed and scarred by the numerous 
 wounds he had received. 
 
 This done, Wild producad from the side pocket in his 
 coat a short, thick bludgeon. 
 
 At the end at which it was held it was just large enough 
 to be gripped firmly, while it swelled out gradually until 
 at the top it was between three and four inches in ciroum- 
 ference. 
 
 This upper part had been hollowed out, and then filled 
 up again with about two pounds of lead. 
 
 It was a most murderous weapon. 
 
 Jonathan \ooked at it, and as he did so his mouth ex- 
 panded into a grin of extreme satisfaction. 
 
 He laid it across his hat with great care. To have seen 
 him one would have thought it was made of the most 
 fragile materials. 
 
 That bludgeon was Jonathan's pet. He had made ifc 
 with his own hands. 
 
 It w.' s his inseparable companion. 
 
 The smile of complacency with which he regarded it 
 gave ^lace presently to a peculiar cackling noise. 
 
 H ; rubbed his hands slowly over one another, only 
 intf mipting that operation to give his wig another 
 twi x;h. 
 
 ( me of his intimate associates would have known how 
 to xanslate these movements. 
 Vild was pleased ! 
 
 i. nd that was the strange way he had of showing it. 
 
 St. Tie complicated scheme of villainy, hatched from hk 
 fertik brain, had doubtless come to a successful issue. 
 
 Tap -tap. 
 
 Some one knocked very deferentially with his knuckles 
 upon the office door. 
 
 Wild ga 7 e his wig such a twitch that it got completely 
 reversed, a _,d the tail hung down most ludicrously over his 
 forehead. 
 
 " Come in," he growled. 
 
 The door was opened about six inches, and a man put 
 his head into the apartment. 
 
 " Mr. Wild, sir," said a voice in very respectful tones. 
 " If you please, Mr. Wild, sir ! " 
 
 " Ya— ah ! What is it ? " 
 
 * Yes, Mr. Wild. Pinching Tom, if you please, sir ! " 
 
 " What are you grinning at, you villain ? Tell me at 
 once, or— ya — ah ! 
 
 Wild seized his cudgel and shook it menacingly. 
 
 "I, Mr. Wild? I grin in your presence, sir?" said 
 the man, whose fancy had been tickled b? the way 
 Jouathan had twitched his wig. " No, Mr. Wild, sir! 1 
 hopes as I knows myself and you know me too well to 
 think of doing such a thing for a moment, sir ! "
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCR. 
 
 Jonathan scowled at the man for a moment, but as tbe 
 man looked perfectly prove, he added — 
 
 " Begone wretch ! Tell Pinching Tom to come in." 
 f The man, who was one of those belonging to Wild's 
 gang, withdrew his head and closed the door. 
 
 Then he went through some remarkable pantomimic 
 evolutions, caused by the endeavour to laugh heartily, 
 without allowing the sounds of mirth to escape from his 
 lips. 
 
 He distended lis cheeks until one would have thought 
 the skin would have given way, and for so long that he 
 grew first red, then purple, then black in the face. 
 He waved his arms in the air. 
 
 His legs, which were long and thin, cut the most fan- 
 tastic capers imaginable. 
 
 But he was destined to receive a summary punishment 
 for thus indulging in clandestine laughter. 
 
 No sooner did the door shut than Wild took up his 
 cudgel, and, with the stealthiness and silence of a cat, got 
 down off his stool. 
 
 On tiptoe he crept across the floor. 
 With the greatest imaginable caution he slowly turned 
 the handle of tha door, and opened it a little way. 
 
 Then he saw the man in the attitudes we h?.ve de- 
 scribed. 
 He opened the door a little wider, and waited. 
 Waited until he imagined his officer's jocularity had 
 reached its culminating point. 
 Whack!— thud! 
 
 With two just such sounds did Wild's pet come down on 
 the back of the unfortunate officer. 
 
 Of course, no one could stand up after receiving two 
 such sudden and unexpected blows, so the officer fell to the 
 ground at once. 
 
 "Murder!— murder! Oh! Mr. Wild!— Mr. Wild! 
 please, sir ! No, sir ! " he yelled, as he writhed about on 
 the floor. 
 
 Jonathan was quite delighted, and so overcome with 
 his own cleverness, that he actually laughed aloud. 
 
 An essentially brutal disposition was Jonathan Wild's, 
 and nothing afforded him greater pleasure than inflicting 
 pain upon others. 
 
 It had grown with him. 
 
 When a boy he was always playing some diabolical 
 trick, and torturing any living creature that was unfortu- 
 nate enough to get into his clutches. 
 Now he tortured human beings. 
 
 " Ob ! Mr. Wild— Mr. Wild, sir ! Oh ! if you please, 
 you've broken my back ! Oh! murder! murder!" 
 
 " Get up ! " said Wild. " Get up ! I hope it will 
 prove a lesson to you ! Get up at once, I say, or you 
 shall have some more ! " 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, please don't ! Mercy ! I am getting 
 up, Mr. Wild ! I am, indeed ! " 
 
 With many contortions of his body, and groans and 
 lamentations, the officer rose to his feet. 
 He stood in a doubled-up sort of fashion. 
 The blows were doubtless severe, for Wild had dealt 
 them with the whole strength of his arm. 
 
 The officer had much ado to stifle the yells that rose 
 to his lips ; he knew he did not dare give utterance to 
 them, or if he had, that he would have received some 
 further ill usage. 
 
 " Ya-a-ah ! " said Wild, in a voice like a hyena's. 
 " Laugh again, Tonks ! laugh again ! Ha ! ha ! why, it's 
 quite funny ! Tonks, you villain, why don't you laugh ! 
 ha ! ha ! You don't half take a joke ! ha ! ha ! 
 
 Tonks distorted his mouth, but he looked about as 
 unmirthful as any one well could. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! That's right, Tonks ! that's right ! Try it 
 again on the other side of your face, and then tell Pinching 
 Tom I am waiting to see him." 
 
 Glad of the chance to escape, Tonks hobbled off to the 
 hall, where Jonathan's visitor was waiting, while the 
 thief-taker reseated himself at his desk, and prepared 
 to receive him. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PINCHING TOM AND THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. — WILD 
 DOES A CAPITAL MORNING'S WORK. 
 
 Pinching Tom was one of the most enterprising and suc- 
 cessful members of that large community of thieves who 
 looked up to Jonathan Wild as their chief. 
 
 Scarcely had the great thief-taker adjusted himself and 
 composed his face a little, than Pinching Tom entered. 
 
 There was not much respect visible in the way he 
 walked up to the desk, and looked through the little gap 
 in the railings. 
 But he had an eye to business and dispatch. 
 He dived his hand into his pocket, and produced a 
 magnificent diamond necklace, such only as one of very 
 high rank could wear, and worth probably some thousands 
 of pounds. 
 
 " Here's a sparkler, Johnty ! " he said, as he laid the 
 bauble on the desk. " What do you think of that, eh ? " 
 Wild glared at the speaker. 
 
 In common with those base spirits who find or conceive 
 themselves to be in an elevated position, Jonathan bad a 
 very exaggerated idea of the importance of his situation, 
 and of the amount of deference that ought to be paid him. 
 Hence he was deeply offended at the manner in which 
 Pinching Tom had chosen to speak to him. 
 
 But Wild never allowed his anger to interfere with his 
 interests. 
 
 The diamond necklace, he saw at a glance, was a very 
 valuable booty. 
 He dissembled. 
 
 He stretched out his hand and took the necklace. 
 It underwent a close examination. 
 "You needn't be so blessed particular," said Pinching 
 Tom. " There's no paste about that ! " 
 Wild growled. 
 
 " Hold your row, will you ? " he said. " How much do 
 you want for this kickshaw ? " 
 
 He flung it negligently upon the desk as he asked this 
 question, but he took good care it should fall where, if 
 Tom felt ever so inclined to take possession of it again, he 
 would find it beyond the reach of his fingers. 
 
 " Well," said he, in reply, " it's rather hard to estimate. 
 You see that is a kind of heirloom, or what-you-call-it." 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 " It is, indeed, and belongs to Lady Ingestrie." 
 " Lady Ingestrie ! the deuce it does ! " 
 Wild took up the necklace, and it underwent a second 
 examination. 
 
 Pinching Tom grew impatient. 
 
 "Come, come, Mr. Wild," he said, "this here ain't 
 business, by no means. How much will you give me for 
 it ? I needn't tell you that Lord Ingestrie will be here 
 before the day is ou 1 and he will give a good sum to have 
 it back again." 
 " Ya-ah ! " 
 
 We use these letters to express the wild beast iort of 
 noise Wild made when anything was not just agreeable to 
 him. 
 
 " Fifty pounds," said Jonathan. 
 Pinching Tom looked aghast. 
 " Fifty pounds ? " he repeated. 
 " Yes. Here you are." 
 
 Wild produced a bulky pocket-book, and began to 
 rummage over its contents. 
 
 " No, I'm blest if I do ! Why, Johnty, you must be 
 clean off it to offer me fifty pounds for a necklace worth 
 five thousand. It really isn't enough, Mr. Wild." 
 Jonothan reflected, or rather appeared to do so. 
 "Well, Tom," he said, at length, "you are a good 
 hand, and deserve to be encouraged. Now, I'll tell you 
 what I'll do. I'll sacrifice my own profit, and give you a 
 hundred pounds for it." 
 
 " Confound you for a downright rascal ! " said Pinching 
 Tom. You won't let a fellow live, you won't. I leaves 
 you at once. Give me the necklace back again, I'm off! " 
 Jonathan looked at him with one eye. 
 " Are you, indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes, you come it too strong ! I shouldn't mind taking 
 a small sum, because you save all the trouble, but I won't 
 part with a valuable thing like that for nothing. Give it 
 us back." 
 
 Tom made a sudden grab at the diamond necklace, but 
 Jonathan had put it just out of the reach of his fingers. 
 
 " Ya-ah— ya-ah ! Will you take the hundred pounds, 
 Tommy?" 
 
 " No, never ! I " 
 
 " Very good— very good. Hi! hi! Blue! Blue!" 
 shouted Wild, banging the desk all the while with hie 
 cudgel.
 
 BLTTESKIH : A ROMANCE. 
 
 s 
 
 " What are you kicking up that 'ere row for P " asked 
 Torn. 
 
 Wild did not reply, but fixed his eyes upon the door, 
 which, in obedience to his summons, was quickly opened, 
 and Jonathan's lieutenant, Blueskin, came in. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he said, gruffly. " What's the fly ? " 
 
 "C. 7," replied Wild. 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! all right. Come on, Tom." 
 
 With a dexterity upon which Blueskin prided himself 
 excessively, he slipped a pair of handcuffs on to Tom'a 
 wrists. 
 
 " What's tne meaning of this ?" asked Pinching Tom, 
 who was, for a second or so, too much astounded to speak. 
 " What's your game ?" 
 
 Wild smiled primly. 
 
 " Will you take the hundred pounds, Tommy, or will 
 you pay a visit to Little Newgate ? " 
 
 "Little Newgate?" 
 
 " Yes ; you've heard of such a place, I daresay, Tom," 
 said Blueskin. " Little Newgate ! That's the name tor 
 the cellars under Mr. Wild's house, where he puts any 
 cove that don't act up to the square." 
 
 " Will you take the hundred pounds, Tommy P " said 
 Wild, again. " I'm sure you'd better." 
 
 " I can't do it, Mr, Wild, because" ■ 
 
 " Oh ! all right, then. Off with him, Blue, to C. 7." 
 
 Pinching Tom commenced a violent struggle. He was 
 not exactly the sort of man to lose his liberty without 
 making an effort to retain it. 
 
 But it availed him nothing. In Blueskin's grasp he 
 was like a child in the hands of a giant. 
 
 Jonathan gripped his cudgel and got down off his 
 stool. 
 
 " Stash it ! stash it, Tom, or it will be the worse for 
 you." 
 
 "Give me the hundred pounds, then, and let me be 
 off!" 
 
 " Shan't ! Ya-a-ah ! You should have had it while I 
 was in the humour! No — no! Let me see, to-day is 
 Monday. All right. The case is clear against you, and 
 will come on on Friday. Off with him, Blue ! " 
 
 But Tom, who now became fully aware of the perilous 
 situation in which he was, began to struggle as a man 
 only can struggle when he finds his life depending upon it. 
 
 " Take that, then ! " said Jonathan, bringing his pet 
 down with great violence upon Tom's head. " Take that, 
 and be hanged ! " 
 
 But provident nature had bestowed upon Pinching Tom 
 a thicker skull than it falls to the lot of general humanity 
 to have, so the blow only staggered him. 
 
 Still it confused his faculties, and made him incapable 
 of offering much resistance. 
 
 Blueskin caught hold of his arm and led him out into 
 the gloomy passage belonging to Wild's house. 
 
 At the extremity of this hall, and opposite the front 
 door, was a strong iron grating. 
 
 A man stood at it with a key, and when he saw Blue- 
 skin and the prisoner, he flung the grating open and 
 allowed them to pass. 
 
 A flight of Bteps was next descended, and then another 
 very massive door was opened and closed alter them. 
 
 They were in a long dimly-lighted corridor. 
 
 Doors were on both sides of it. 
 
 Each one was strongly made, and had a figure painted 
 upon it. 
 
 Blueskin stopped before one which was numbered 7. 
 
 He unlocked it by means of a key which he took from 
 his pocket. 
 
 " In you go, Tom ! " he said. " Take care ! 
 
 He gave him a sudden push, which caused poor Tom, 
 who certainly had been very badly used, to fall on his face 
 in the cell. 
 
 Blueskin did nor trouble about that little circumstance, 
 but banged the door shut, and fastened it a^ain. 
 
 Wild was waiting tor him in the passage. 
 
 " He's safe ! " said Blueskin, laconically. 
 
 A succession of loud knocks cane at this moment upon 
 the frout door of Wild's house. 
 
 Jonathan retreated to his office. 
 
 He, however, stood just within the threshold. 
 
 He was anxious to know who it was that had come with 
 such a noisy summons for admittance. 
 
 " Open tie door, Blue ! Look sharp ! If it's anyone 
 , >n business I'm at home." 
 
 Jonathan heard Blueskin saunter to the door and open 
 it, just as the knocking was renewed for the second time, 
 and with greater violence than before. 
 
 " Hullo ! " 
 
 That was Blueskin's mode of greeting everybody. 
 
 " Is this Mr. Wild's, the thief-taker's ? " 
 
 " Rather ! Is it business ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " All right, then ! Come in ! Mr. Wild's at home." 
 
 " I will tell his lordship." 
 
 " Eh ? " 
 
 " I say I will tell his lordship." 
 
 " Oh ! his lordship wants to see Mr. Wild P " 
 
 « Yes " 
 
 " Lord who ? " 
 
 " Ingestrie." 
 
 Wild heard the footman's feet descend the steps. 
 
 He poked his head out iuto the hall. 
 
 " Blue, you villain ! Blue ! Mind how you speak te 
 his lordship." 
 
 " You be hanged ! Here he comes." 
 
 Jonathan dashed precipitately into bis office as he heard 
 some one enter. 
 
 He jumped on his stool. 
 
 There lay the diamond necklace about which Lord In- 
 gestrie had doubtless come to make some inquiries. 
 
 Wild only had just time to cover it over with his hat 
 and lay his cudgel across it, when the office-door opened, 
 and Blueskin, with an obsequious bow, ushered Lord In- 
 gestrie into the sanctum of the great thief-taker. 
 
 Jonathan gave his wig one of his most ferocious 
 twitches. 
 
 " Good morning, your lordship," he said, in servile 
 tones ; " What can I have the pleasure of doing for you 
 this morning ? " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Wild, it is a little affair I wish you to 
 manage for me." 
 
 "I am quite at your lordship's service," said Wild, 
 giving bis wig another twitch. " What can I do for you ? " 
 
 " Well, the fact is, Lady Ingestrie, on her way home 
 from the Countess of Wiltshire's rout, was, in some inex- 
 plicable way, robbed of a diamond necklace." 
 
 " Dear me ! " said Wild, with an assumption of great 
 interest and curiosity, " How singular ! " 
 
 " The necklace itself, you must understand," continued 
 his lordship, " is intrinsically worth a very large sum, 
 besides which, it has been in the possession of the family 
 for many generations." 
 
 "Pinching Tom was right," muttered Jonathan. "What 
 an idiot he was not to be civil to me ! " 
 
 " What do you say, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD BAFFLES THE WATCHMAN, AND TAKES 
 REFUGE AT THE " BLACK LION," IN DRURY LANE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard wrenched his head round with a violent 
 effort, and found himself face to face with a watchman. 
 
 " That's right ! " cried Mr. Roots, " That's right ! 
 Hold him tight — the vagabond !— or else he will escape." 
 
 "All right, your honour!" said the watchman, taking 
 a firmer grip, " I'll settle him. You shall be provided 
 with a comfortable night's lodging, and nothing to pay ! 
 Come along, now, will you ?" 
 
 " Let go your hold ! " said Jack, fiercely. " Let go, or 
 you will find it all the worse for you. Loose, I say ! " 
 
 "No, no," exclaimed Jack's master. "Lock him up! 
 I give him in charge for threatening to take my life ! To 
 the watch-house with him ! 1 will appear against him in 
 the morning." 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Roots. It shall be done, sir. You'd 
 best not be obstropolous ! Take my advice, and come 
 along quietly." 
 
 " Never ! " said Jack, struggling fiercely to release him- 
 self, " never, I say ! I tell you you had better let me go ! 
 I don't want to harm you ; but if you will have it, I can't 
 help it. Once more I say, let me go ! " 
 
 " I dessay ! Is there anything else you'd like ? because 
 just say the word while you are about it." 
 
 Scarcely had the words left his lips, than by a sudden 
 exertion of strength, which no one would have given him 
 credit for, Jack freed himself from the watchman's grasp. 
 
 "Help! help! An escape!" selled the guardian oi 
 the night. " Help ! help ! "
 
 6 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 He sprung his rattle furiously. 
 
 Then he made a sudden dart at Jack, who clenched his 
 fist, and throwing all his weight into the blow, struck tha 
 watchman in the face. 
 
 No human being could have stood up against a blow 
 given with so much suddenness and force. 
 
 Down went the watchman, bludgeon, lautern, and rattle, 
 making a terrible clatter. 
 
 But the watchmen on the contiguous beats bad been 
 aroused, and were hurrying to the spot. 
 
 Taking, apparently, no notice of the circumstance, Jack 
 again addressed his master. 
 
 " John Roots," he said, " it is you who will have to 
 answer for this night's work, and for what it may produce. 
 I own I have been wrong, but at the same time, you have 
 been wrong also. Had you, to-night, have given me a 
 word of kindness, I should once more have crossed your 
 threshold. I should have returned to my work, and 
 become an honest man ! But you would not have it so ! 
 You have driven me forth ! You have thrown again my 
 father's fate into my teeth ! You have called me a vaga- 
 bond and a thief ! Farewell, John Roots ; but the last 
 word I shall utter shall be, beware ! 1 have sworn to be 
 revenged ! Beware ! beware ! " 
 
 All this was spoken with extraordinary volubility, and 
 when he finished, Jack did not pause a moment longer, 
 but dashed down a narrow court on the opposite side of 
 the way. 
 
 With hurried footsteps and loud cries, the watchmen 
 coming down the street in both directions, reached the 
 spot where their companion lay prostrate on the stcnes. 
 
 Rage and fear were swelling within the bosom of John 
 Roots, and as soon as he could command his passion 
 sufficiently to speak, he cried — 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! After him ! Down Rose-court he 
 tvent ! Lock him up. 1 will appear against him in the 
 morning." 
 
 Upon hearing this, the watchmen, leaving their brother 
 to recover as he best could, dashed forward in a body 
 down Rose-court. 
 
 But when they reached its termination, there was no one 
 to be seen. The place was silent, and all the houses 
 closed. 
 
 There was no outlet to this court, it being, in fact, what 
 is generally called a blind alley. 
 
 The watchmen, by the aid of their lanterns, made a 
 thorough search, which resulted in nothing. 
 
 The mystery of Jack's evanish ineut is easily explained. 
 
 From living on the spot he was, of course, familiar 
 with the locality, and he knew well enough there was no 
 outlet to Rose-court ; and it was upon that knowledge 
 that he built the hope of escape. 
 
 Oa the right hand side of the court, and not half-a- 
 dozen steps from Wych-street, was a side door into one of 
 the bouses. 
 
 It was a large, roomy doorway, and Jack pressed him- 
 self as closely as he could against the door post. 
 
 The watchmen were all intently looking before them, so 
 Jack's hiding-place was uot even seen by them. 
 
 Even if they had seen it — looked into it even — it is 
 questionable whether they would have seen him, so closely 
 did he press his slim figure against the woodwork. 
 
 No sooner had they passed him than Jack slipped out 
 again into Wych-street. 
 
 He did not pause, however ; for he caw that his master 
 had not withdrawn from the window, and that the watch- 
 man he had knocked down was beginning to recover his 
 consciousness. 
 
 He walked silently along the street, taking care to keer. 
 as much in the shadow of the houses as possible. 
 
 When he reached tbp corner of Newcastle-street ne 
 came to a halt. 
 
 He leaned aga : nst the post at the corner. 
 
 A revulsion of feeling took place. 
 
 He spoke, but it was in gentle and tristful accents. 
 
 "What shall I do?" he said. "Where shall I go? 
 What will become of me? I am quite alone in the 
 world ! I am kin to no one — there is no one who loves 
 me." 
 
 He bowed his head upon his arm, and, as the utter 
 loneliness of his position forced itself upon him, he wept 
 aloud. 
 
 But not for long did he continue this childish expression 
 of grief. 
 
 With the back of his hand he dashed the teardrops from 
 his eyes. 
 
 " I will not be a woman, though," he said. " Not a 
 woman ! This must be fate — destiny ! I will go on and 
 see for what I am destined." 
 
 He left the post, and continued his way, until he at 
 length entered Drury-lane. 
 
 Straight before him was a house, from the basement 
 windows of which there issued a bright light. 
 
 All the rest of the street was in darkness. 
 
 Some impulse, which he did not strive to combat or 
 reflect upon, caused him to direct his steps towards this 
 house. 
 
 He knew it well. 
 
 It was a public-house. 
 
 The sign was the " Black Lion." 
 
 A very bad name had the " Black Lion" got. It was 
 famed all over London as being a thieves' house. 
 
 Yet no steps were taken by the authorities to have it 
 closed. 
 
 The theory of the suppression of crime by prevention 
 was not started for many a year afterwards. 
 
 The principle then was to wait until an offence against 
 the law was consummated, and then look after and punish 
 the offender. 
 
 Generally by death. 
 
 Hence the police-officers rather encouraged such houses 
 as the " Black Lion " than otherwise, for knowing this 
 was a place to which fugitives from justice resorted, they 
 were often able, by entering unawares, to make an impor- 
 tant capture. 
 
 The shutters were never put up at the " Black Lion." 
 
 Jack crossed the street with a slow step, and looked in 
 at one of the windows of the public-house. 
 
 That is, he tried to do so, for the dingy-looking blind, 
 which had been drawn down, made such an occupation 
 rather difficult. 
 
 The bright fight, which filled the apartment into which 
 he thus peeped, proceeded etiiefly from the fire, which was 
 a very large one, and piled high up above the hobs. 
 
 Several people, male and female, were seated there. 
 
 They all seemed happj - , and enjoying themselves to the 
 top of their bent. 
 
 A sigh came to Jack's lips. 
 
 The room seemed twice as comfortable as it really was, 
 when compared with the street without, and the forlorn 
 state in which he was seemed to grow more forcibly upon 
 him. 
 
 The temptation to enter was strong — in fact, he only 
 held back from the dread that he, a stranger, might not 
 be very favourably received by the lawless company. 
 
 Jack could hear, with tolerable distinctness, what was 
 going on inside. 
 
 " Now, Joe Blake," he heard a voice say, " just troll us 
 a ditty." 
 
 The proposition was evidently relished by the rest of 
 the company, that is, if the tremendous banging of jugs 
 and mugs upon the table, was any criterion. 
 
 " II — m, ladies and gentlemen," Jack heard a voice 
 say, though he could not see the speaker, " what shall 
 it be ? " 
 
 " Oh ! ' Friends together ! ' " was the unanimous cry. 
 " We can all join in that." 
 
 " Very good, friends all ! — here goes ! " 
 
 There was something so peculiarly droll aKmt the song, 
 thai Jack could not move until he had heard the whole 
 cfit. 
 
 " Now, friends ! " said the voice which had been asked 
 to sing, and which Jack identified as Joe Blake's, " order, 
 I'm ready." 
 
 There was an immediate silence. 
 
 Joe Blake, then, much to Jack'^ surprise, repeated the 
 first two lines of his song in a solemn voice, just as in 
 many churches and chapels the first lines of a hymn are 
 given out to the congregation. 
 
 The two lines were — 
 
 " Friends together we have met, 
 In spite of all our foes." 
 
 "Now!" said Joe Blake, "join in, ladies aud gentle- 
 J men,
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 The whole of the company then sang the words 
 out to a jovial tune, and to the following refrain : — 
 
 Friends together we have met, 
 
 We have met, 
 
 We have met, 
 Friends together we have met, 
 In spite of all our foes. 
 
 Then Joe Blake repeated the two next lines-- 
 " And he that would our mirth obstruct, 
 vVe'll take him bv the nose." 
 
 given 
 
 : Now ! 
 
 And he that would our mirth obstruct, 
 
 O r mirth obstruct, 
 
 Our mirth obstruct, 
 And he that would our mirth obstruct, 
 We'll take him by the nose. 
 
 " Sure he must be some scoundrel dog, 
 That would our mirth obstruct." 
 
 " Now ! " 
 
 Sure he must he some scoundrel dog, 
 Some scoundrel dog, 
 So7ne sco ndrel dog, 
 Sure he must be some scoundrel dog, 
 That would our mirth obstruct. 
 
 " We'll take him to seme large horsepond, 
 And have him soundly ducked." 
 " Now ! " 
 
 We'll take him to some large horsepond, 
 Some large horsepond. 
 Some larj^e horsepond. 
 We'll take him to some large horsepond, 
 And have him soundly ducked. 
 u And when we've had him soundly ducked, 
 And all these steps are taken," 
 "Now!" 
 
 And when we've had him soinilly ducked, 
 Him soundly ducked, 
 Him soundly ducked, 
 And when we've had him soundly ducked, 
 And all these steps are taken, 
 
 " VTe'll send him up the chimney-top, 
 And dry him thore for bacon." 
 " Now ! " 
 
 We'll send him up the chimney-top, 
 
 The chimney-top, 
 
 The chimney-top. 
 We'll send him up the chimney -top, 
 And dry him there for bacon. 
 
 " But if the devil he should come, 
 And think this night to have us." 
 " Now ! " 
 
 But if the devil he should come, 
 He should come, 
 He should come, 
 But if the devil he should come, 
 
 And think this night to have us. 
 
 " We will persuade him if we can, 
 To go away and leave us." 
 " Now ! " 
 
 We will persuade him if we can, 
 
 If we can, 
 
 If we can, 
 We will persuade him if we can, 
 To go away and leave us. 
 
 " But if he'll not lere* banded go, 
 And we should be mistaken." 
 " Now ! " 
 
 But if he'll not lere handed go, 
 
 Lere handed go, 
 
 Lere handed go, 
 But if he'll not lere handed go, 
 And we should be mistaken, 
 
 " We'll send him up the chimney-to h> 
 And bid him take the bacon." 
 
 "Not!" 
 
 "Ye'll send him up the chimney-top. 
 
 The chimney-top, 
 
 The chimney-top, 
 7?3'11 send him up the chimnev-top, 
 And let him take the baoon. 
 
 * An old English word, meaning empty. 
 
 Now devil's gone and bacon too, 
 What need have we to fear ? 
 
 Now! 
 
 Now devil's gone and bacon too, 
 
 And bacon too, 
 
 And bacon too, 
 Now devil's gone and bacon too, 
 What need have we to fear? 
 
 " We'll drown our cares in brandy strong. 
 Good wine and Johnson's cheer.'' 
 "Now!" 
 
 We'll drown our cares in brandy strong, 
 
 In brandy strong, 
 
 In brandy strong, 
 We'll drown our cares in brandy strong, 
 Good wine and Johnson's cheer. 
 
 The applause that succeeded this song was deafening 
 and tremendous. 
 
 There was something very peculiar in this song, given 
 out first two lines together, and then sang. 
 
 Jack Sheppard could not help feeling amused, although 
 his heart was heavy. 
 
 "What fascination holds me here?" thought Jack. 
 " I feel as though I was compelled to enter this place, 
 and somehow I have no fear of the reception I shall meet 
 with. I cannot stay here ; I will go in. 
 
 As he spoke these words, Jack Sheppard left the win 
 dow, and passing through the front door of the " Black 
 Lion," and traversing a sanded passage, entered the large 
 room where the company were assembled. 
 
 He did not know it; but he had put his foot upon vu 
 first round of the ladder of crime. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 JOE BLAKE, ALIAS BLUESKIN, GIVES JACK SHEPJ'4 ?/> t 
 HEARTY WELCOME. 
 
 "Bravo! bravo! Hurrah! Another glass, landlo.-i. 
 Hi! hi! Capital! capital! Well sung ! Again! Bravo! 
 Blake! Here — here! Johnson, one more bowl of 3-011? 
 prime punch ! Let's sing it over again ! Now, Joe, 
 strike up ! First-rate ! The best song out ! Them as 
 can't sing can join in ! Now, then, over again — over 
 again! Go it, Blake! Bring in all the lush, Johnson, 
 my boy, and then we won't be interrupted! Bravo! 
 bravo ! " 
 
 Such were the words, uttered in every imaginable key, 
 which separated themselves Irom the murmur of voices, 
 the banging of jugs and glasses upon the tables, the 
 thousand and one noises which arise from a tumultuous 
 assembly, and reached the ears of Jack Sheppard con- 
 fusedly, as he stood irresolutely two or three steps within 
 the room. 
 
 The bright light which filled the place, and the rude 
 boisterous clamour of its occupants, blinded and deafened 
 him, and he sank, with a feeling of perfect bewilderment, 
 upon a vacant scat which happened to be close to him. 
 
 He acted like one who is vaguely conscious that he is 
 doing something and nothing more. 
 
 His intrusion was scarcely noticed, except by those next 
 to him, and they simply honoured him with a long stare. 
 But Jack soon began to recover himself. 
 Observing near him a stout serving wench, who was 
 assisting in the performance of the waiter's duties, he 
 called for a glass of hot braudy-and-water. 
 
 The steaming spirit was in a few moments placed 
 before him, and he tossed off the largest half 01 it at one 
 gulp. 
 
 Its effect was instantaneous. 
 He became confident and composed. 
 Although, from living so long in the neighbourhood, he 
 was acquainted with the outside of the " Black Lion," 
 yet he had never before beheld its interior, and he looked 
 about him with some curiosity. 
 
 The room in which be was sitting was low pitched, but 
 spacious, and tables were arranged in it in such a manner 
 that a large number of guests might find aeoommodation 
 in the shape of seats. 
 
 But as Jack glanced rapidly around the piac?, Lis eye9 
 soon lighted on an object which filled him with wonder 
 and surprise. 
 It was the countenance of the man who sat at tbo boa--
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 of the largest table, and who he judged, from various 
 circumstances, to be the chairman. 
 
 He was a brawny, Hyjrly man, and certainly not less than 
 six feet in height. 
 
 His hands and arms were immense. 
 It would not have been necessary for tho most casual 
 observer to look twice to see that he was possessed of 
 enormous muscular strength — such, indeed, as falls to the 
 lot of few persons to possess. 
 
 But it was not the man's huge frame that attracted 
 Sheppard's attention, it was his face. 
 
 Strange as it may appear, it was of a half blue, half 
 purple tint. 
 
 Whether real or artificial, Jack could not tell. 
 
 It made his whole aspect hideous and repulsive in tue 
 extreme. 
 
 " How very extraordinary," thought Jack. " Whoever 
 tan he be ? " 
 
 ■At this moment the man with the blue face spoke. 
 
 Jack recognised his voice. 
 
 It was that of the man who had been called Mr. Blake, 
 and who had sung the extraordinary ditty we felt we were 
 compelled to give to our readers in its entirety. 
 
 " Order, pals, order ! " oried Mr. Blake, knocking 
 vigorously upou the table with a small ivory hammer. 
 " Order, order ! " 
 
 " Order, order ! " echoed several other voices, and then 
 something bke silence was obtained. 
 
 " I never sings that song," began Mr. Blake, " without 
 thinking of the chap I learned it of. He was a brave 
 /n'low, that he was. Many a glorious night have we spent 
 .»>gether ; but that is a long while ago, when I was hardly 
 twenty." 
 
 " It's a downright good'un," said some one ip reply, 
 " who was it that learned it you ? " 
 
 " Most of you must have heard of the name. He was a 
 cracksman of the first order, and though his career was a 
 very brief one, he made himself a reputation that won't 
 ?A8ily be forgotten. He suffered at the triple tree nine- 
 teen year3 ago this very day, and that's what puts me 
 more in mind of him, poor fellow ! It will be a long time 
 before we look upon his like again ! " 
 
 Why there is but one man that would come up to that 
 description," said a man who was seated next to Jack on 
 l ,is right hand. 
 
 " You are right there. Such a description would apply 
 to no one but him. He was a rare fellow ! It was through 
 him that I got my face such a colour as it is." 
 
 " Was it, really ? " asked several voices. " I have often 
 wondered what wa3 the cause of it." 
 
 " I'll tell you now," said Mr. Blake, finishing his glass 
 of punch. " It's a thing that always vexes me, and I was 
 uncommon savage when it occurred. But it's no good 
 grieving about shed milk. It can't be altered now." 
 
 "And it was through that you got called Blueskin, 
 Mr. Blake?" 
 
 " It were ! " replied the chairman, emphatically. " Not 
 that I mind that in the least, only what vexed me was that 
 I should always be known if once seen a mile off." 
 
 "Ah! that you would. That's the illconvenientest part 
 cf it," said another voice. 
 
 " However, how I got it was very singular. You must 
 first know my pal and me was out on a little business one 
 night. I won't say where, but there was a strong box we 
 very much wanted to open, but for the life of us we couldn't 
 manage it. ' This is very aggravating,' says I ; ' what 
 shall we do?' 'I don't know,' says he; 'yet stop. I 
 have an idea.' 'What is it?' says I. 'We'll blow the 
 lock open,' says he. ' With gunpowder ? " says I. ' Yes,' 
 says he. ' Where shall you get the powder from ? ' says 
 I. ' Oh ! ' says he, ' I've got some in my pocket ! ' So 
 he took out a little paper parcel, and laid it open on the 
 ground just by the box. /Veil, he takes some of this 
 powder, and rani6 it into the keyhole. It was quite a fresh 
 notion to me, so, like a a fool, I put my face a good deal 
 closer than I had need. ' Let me light it ! ' says I. So I 
 got out a match, and lighted the powder in the keyhole, 
 and then a most awful scorching flame shot up into my 
 face. ' Fire and fury ! ' I cried. ' I'm done for ! I'm 
 blinded ! ' ' We shall both be done for,' says he, ' if you 
 make that noise.' Well, it turned out some of the sparks 
 from the match dropped on to the paper on the floor, and 
 set light to all tho gunpowder. However, my pal went 
 to the box and found it opened, fo? the inside of the lock 
 
 was clean blowed out ! He got the swag, and we got ofl 
 all safe. I was blind for many a day after, but at last I 
 recovered my wision, and at last got well. But the powder 
 got into my skin, and nothing will fetch it out ; so ever 
 since then I have had a blue face, and that's why people 
 calls me Blueskin." 
 
 Mr. Blake's extraordinary account of how he came with 
 a blue face was listened to with the greatest interest, and 
 several comments were passed upon it. 
 
 At last some one said — 
 
 " But I say, Blueskin, you haven't told us now, what 
 was the name of the pal who was with you, and who, 
 you said, was tucked up at Old Tyburn nineteen years 
 ago." 
 
 " No more I did," said Mr. Blake ; " that was a little 
 omission on my part. I always get forgetful and stupid, 
 somehow, when I thinks of my old friend. It was a pity 
 he was cut off in his prime as he were. I shall never 
 forget him, and I know there'll never be his equal I " 
 
 "But his name, Blue? — his name?" cried several 
 voices. 
 
 Joe Blake rose from his chair, as he said— 
 
 " His name, pals, was Tom Sheppard ! " 
 
 "Tom Sheppard?" shouted Jack, springing up so 
 suddenly, that he overturned his seat, and, pushing his 
 way up to Blueskin, who looked at him with the utmost 
 astonishment, "Tom Sheppard? Do you mean to say 
 that you wer« & comrade of my father's ? " 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD, BY BLUESKIN's ADVICE, JOINS JONATHAN 
 WILD'S GANG. 
 
 Blueskin gasped for breath. 
 
 "God bless me!" he said, at length, "he's tue v<>ry 
 image ! " 
 
 No sooner had he uttered these words, than a scene of 
 the greatest possible confusion ensued. 
 
 Jack looked about him in perfect calmness. 
 
 A dozen hands were outstretched towards hira. 
 
 Joe Blake rose to his feet, and, catching Jack in his 
 arms, almost smothered him in his embrace. 
 
 " That ever I should have lived to see this day, ' he 
 said. " I never knew Tom had a son, but I can't doubt 
 your assertion. You are exactly like he was at your age. 
 I never saw such a wonderful resemblance." 
 
 Blueskin took up his hammer, and struck it upon the 
 table until order was restored. 
 
 " Silence, pals," he said. " Silence. You've heard a 
 bit of this, of course. Order, there. I've got some one 
 to introduce as you'll live yet to be proud of. Pals, fill 
 up your glasses, and drink to the health of my old com- 
 rade's son. What's your name ? " he asked in a whisper. 
 
 " Jack." 
 
 " Drink to the health of Jack Sheppard ! " 
 
 Thus suddenly did Jack find himself lionized, and it is 
 scarcely to be wondered at that it made the lad vain, and 
 bliuded him to the fact that, under no circumstances, could 
 it be any honour to be received by such company as was 
 there present. 
 
 His health, however, was drunk by every person in the 
 room with loud applause, for to all of them was the name 
 of the cracksman, Tom Sheppard, familiar. 
 
 Jack stammered out some words in reply, and then sat 
 down next to Blueskin, a seat having been provided for 
 his special use. 
 
 " But what brings you here, Jack, lad ? " asked Blake. 
 " How is it we have never heard of you before ?" 
 
 "I am an apprentice," said Jack, "and have been 
 ouliged, through ill treatment, to leave my master." 
 
 " Ah ! Jack, you were lucky to drop in here. But how 
 came you to do so ? " 
 
 " Some impulse which I could not control, urged me 
 hither. I entered, and took a seat unobserved, and was 
 about to leave again, when I heard mv fa f, ier* name 
 mentioned." 
 
 " It's a rare chance. But strange Chugs do happen 
 sometimes. However, Jack, I repeat it was lucky you 
 came here. If you choose, yju can live the life of a 
 gentleman for the rest of your days. Do you say the 
 word ? " 
 
 " I do," said Jack, " for I'm quite earrless wiw* "<*• 
 comes of mo ! " 
 
 -I
 
 HLUESKIN : A ROMANCE, 
 
 [BLUESKIN INTRODUCES JACK SH'SPPAK.D TO JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 "Now don't say chat, Jack,— don't say th -t! Never j 
 despond, my boy— nev^r despond ! It's the worst thing j 
 in the world." j 
 
 " But how can I help it ? What is to become of me ? i 
 John Eoots has rained me for life ! Who would employ | 
 an apprentice who has not served his time ?" j 
 
 " Well, not many, perhaps," said Blueskin. " But I j 
 do happen to know some one who would be very glad to 
 secure the services of such a sharp chap as you are ! 
 
 Jack was silent, but he nevertheless felt flattered at I 
 Blueskin's description of him. 
 
 "And not only that," said Blueskin, " the fact of you-- j 
 having left your master would be more a recommendation 
 *o him than otherwise." j 
 
 " Indeed ! How is that ? '' 
 
 "And when he knows your name, and who you are! 
 the son of, he will be ten times more anxious to have vou , 
 than before." 
 
 tt! Hjai's very odd," .said Jack, who had not been! 
 
 scaring with the strong liquors on the table before him 
 "That's very odd! Nobody that I have met with jet 
 would ever have a word further to say to me when tney 
 knew my father was a housebreaker and died at iy»I — . 
 Just as if I could help that ! " 
 
 " Just as if you could indeed. But Jack, my la. , «hen 
 you've lived as long as I have, and seen as maca 01 the 
 world, you will find it about as reasonable in mo? 4 - otner 
 things as it is in that." _ . . 
 
 As he finished speaking, Blueskin took up Ins eiiair- 
 man's hammer, and rapped violently upon the table. 
 
 Whether it was to call for order in die disorderly 
 assemblage, or whether it was to give due weight to the 
 I opinion he had uttered, is best known to himself.. 
 
 " But stop," said Jack. " You asked me, if I would 
 like to live like a gentleman for the rest of my days. 
 
 "I did." . 
 
 " And that you knew some one who would taJie me. 1» 
 it so ? " 
 
 No. 2.
 
 4a 
 10 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " It is, Jack— it is. Only say the word, and there y*u 
 are. It was a most fortunate thing for you that you came 
 in here to-nigW ! " 
 
 " I hope it .rill be so, was the reply. " But, tell me. 
 Who is this pe/son who will give mc employment, and the 
 means to ?ive like a gentleman for the rest of my days ? " 
 
 " I'll warrant you'll know tho name weH when I men- 
 tion it," paid Blueskin, with a smile. 
 
 " Who is it P " asked Jack, impatiently. 
 
 "Jonathan Wild!" 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " Yes ! Jonathan Wild ! I told you you would know 
 the name ! " » 
 
 " But," said Jack, " rdiat does he want with me ? ' 
 
 " Ah, now you're asking what perhaps I ought i 
 tell you ; but if you'll gi/3 me your word you'll not split, 
 I'll trust you ! " 
 
 " You have it, then." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild— Jonathan Wild the Great ! as he is 
 generally and justly called — and he is a great man, I can 
 assure you, lives in the house next door to Newgate." 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " Very well. Now I am his lieutenant ! " 
 
 "His what?" 
 
 " Lieutenant— deputy — or whatever you like to call it. 
 I am second in command." 
 
 "To Jonathan Wild?" 
 
 " Yes ! And I am quite sure he would be overjoyed if 
 you would join his band ! It is the best thing you can do. 
 Society has set its face against you, and as you are the 
 weakest you will go to the wall unless you choose to take 
 up arms and defend yourself." 
 
 This speech was rather incomprehensible to Jack. 
 
 " But what am I to do ? " 
 
 " Ob, Jonathan will soon put you up to all that. Do 
 you consent to do as I advise ? " 
 
 " I do ! As well that as anything ! " 
 
 " As well that ? And better too, I should think. All 
 you've got to do is to act on the square, and keep friends 
 with Jonathan, and you're all right. But I must tell you 
 his temper is not the most amiable in the world, and his 
 friendship very difficult to retain." 
 
 "Oh! W 
 
 " However, the fact of the case is simply this : my gaffer, 
 Jonathan Wild, is a kind of inter — what do you call it — 
 cessor ? — Yes ! — he is a kind of intercessor between the 
 robber and the robbed ! " 
 
 " I don't understand." 
 
 " Oh, but you will do before long, and I am not a very 
 neat hand at explaining anything." 
 
 Jack placed his arm upon the table, and let his head 
 sink upon it. 
 
 "Hullo!" said Blueskin. " What's up ! Come Jack, 
 my lad, don't give way to your feelins iu that way ! 
 Have another glass, and let's have a manly heart, and 
 no whining! Cheer up, I say, for I can tell you your 
 fortune's made ! " 
 
 But Jack's heart was heavy. 
 
 Blueskin patted him encouragingly upon the back. 
 
 " You won't deceive me ! Lor' bless you, I can see it's 
 in you. I know well enough what you're going to \>e ! 
 Nature has formed you for it, and the world has deter- 
 mined you shall do nothing else ! Your's will be a dashing 
 career, I tell you! " 
 
 Jack looked up. 
 
 The tears were in his eyes. 
 
 But they were not the indications of a genuine grief. 
 
 The unusuai quantity of spirit which he had imbibed, 
 and to the use of which he was an utter stranger, had 
 affected his brain, and superinduced that species of intoxi- 
 cation called maudlin. 
 
 " There, that's right ! Don't be a girl, Jack ! Then; was 
 nothing of the woman in your father's disposition. Oh ! 
 no — quite he reverse ! I tell you what it is, Jack ! I am 
 sure of it ! Before you are a month older you will be a 
 more notorious and expert cracksman than your father 
 was ! " 
 
 "My father?" 
 
 " Yes, my old pal ; you know ! A short life and a 
 merry one! Plenty of excitement! Plenty of adven- 
 tnre ! Plenty of money ! What more can you require ? " 
 ■' Jack shuddered. 
 
 " My father ! " ho said, " you speak of him ! Would I 
 were not his son, and then I should have been spared all 
 that I have suffered in consequence ! " 
 
 " Oh ! that be hanged," said Blueskin, " y . _ ji glit to 
 be proud ! And you will, too, when you kno.v a little 
 more. Let us drop it, and join the company. They are 
 surprised at our long talk ! Come, rouse up ! Remember 
 you have promised to become a member of Jonathan 
 Wild's band ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 RETURNS TO JONATHAN WILD, LORD INGESTRIE, AND 
 THE DIAMOND NECKLACE. 
 
 " What did you say, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 That was the question to which Lord Ingestrie gave 
 utterance when he heard Jonathan murmur some words 
 whoic meaning he could not catch. 
 
 " Nothing. That is, nothing of any importance ! " 
 
 Jonathan had to twitch his wig to regain his compo- 
 sure. 
 
 " It is really an extraordinary and audacious affair, your 
 lordship — very audacious rcideed ! Last night did you say 
 it occurred ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Or perhaps it would be more correct 
 to say this morning, for, though her ladyship cannot say 
 precisely when she missed the necklace, yet she fancies it 
 must have been after she left the countess's saloons." 
 
 "Perhaps," said Jonathan, with a leer, "it may not 
 have been stolen, but only lost ? String broken — come 
 unfastened, or something of that sort, eh ? Have you 
 offered any reward ? " 
 
 " Not publicly, Mr. Wild, not publicly." 
 
 Jonathan rubbed his hands slowly one over the other, 
 and looked attentively at his visitor. 
 
 " We were at first of your opinion, Mr. Wild," con- 
 tinued his lordship, " and thought— nay, made sure that 
 it had been lost only ; but though every inquiry and 
 instant search was made, no traces of it could be found ! " 
 
 " How unfortunate." 
 
 " The news of the loss soon spread among the servants, 
 and I am sure the reward that was offered would have 
 induced whoever had found it to give it up." 
 
 Jonathan shut one eye. 
 
 He feigned to be quite overcome by his lordship's 
 extreme cleverness. 
 
 "Dear me," he said, " if your were a professional man 
 I should be quite jealous of you ! There is nothing like 
 taking prompt steps iu a matter of that sort." 
 
 " 1 think not," said his lordship, with a little more 
 pomposity in the tones of his voice than there was a 
 minute before. " You see, as I said, not only is the neck- 
 lace intrinsically very valuable, but an heir-loom that 
 has been in the possession of the Ingestrie family fo 
 generations." 
 
 "Ah!" said Wild. "How much did you offer the 
 servants if they found it ? " 
 
 " A hundred guineas ! " 
 
 Jonathan laughed in his usual disagreeable fashion. 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 " I laughed, my lord." 
 
 " Why ? At what ? " 
 
 " The idea of thinking a hundred pounds was a large 
 reward for such an object." 
 
 " It is a large amount." 
 
 •* To a beggar, probably ! " 
 
 " However,'"' said his lordship, rather angrily, " I am 
 quite certain it was stolen — not lost, and that n©ne of the 
 countess's servants had it." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Well, it is just possible you are right." 
 
 Jonathan glanced at his hat lying on the desk, and be- 
 neath which 60 snugly reposed Lady Ingestrie's diamond 
 necklace. 
 
 Little did his lordship dream that the identical thing 
 whicli he was m search of was just under his nose. 
 
 But so it was. 
 
 " I was advised to come to you, Mi. Wild," resumed 
 Lord Ingestrie, " for I had been told you had frequently 
 succeeded in obtaining things which had been stolen." 
 
 4: Or loot," said Jonathan, with a hideous grin, "your 
 lordship's information is quite correct." 
 
 " I thought the less time that was lost tho better it . 
 wor-hl be, so I came here at otice."
 
 BLTTESKIN : A ROMANCE, 
 
 Wild bowed. 
 
 " If your lordship will please say what you require, I 
 will see what can be done. ' 
 
 " I want the necklace back as soon as possible." 
 
 " Exactly ! Now you must understand, your lordship, 
 I never make any charge for what trouble I may have in 
 the matter. Never, by any chance! My only object in his chin in his hand 
 
 It was now Lord Ingestrie's turn to reflect. 
 
 " I will tell you what I will do. I will offer three 
 thousand pounds for the restoration of the jewel, which 
 6um, Mr. Wild, I don't mind telling you, is one I can ill 
 spare. Can you get it back for that ? " 
 
 Jonathan Wild put his elbows on the desk, and rested 
 
 doing it is to assist persons like yourself, for instance, to 
 get back property which would otherwise be lost to them 
 for ever.'' 
 
 " That is very praiseworthy upon your part, Mr. Wild." 
 " Now, with respect to this necklace. I have no doubt 
 I can get it back for j'ou if you are willing to pay a price 
 for it. I have agents of mine to whom all the thieves in 
 London are known, and it could be ascertained in the 
 course of a very few hours whether it was in the possses- 
 sion of any one of them or not." 
 
 " I see j and supposing yon find some one has it, what 
 then ? " 
 
 " The person is at once communicated with, and told 
 that the owner wishes to get back his stolen property. 
 A reply is then sent, naming such and such a sum, 
 which, if given, and no questions asked, the goods will be 
 returned." 
 
 Wild paused, but p,s Lord Ingcstrie said nothing, he 
 went on. 
 
 " You will of course understand, my lord, that neither 
 of the principal parties concerned, come into contact with 
 each other, and having thus explained the matter, what 
 amount does your lordship think of offering to the person 
 who has the necklace, to give it up ? " 
 Jonathan's hand wandered to his hat. 
 Little did Lord Ingestrie imagine that the necklace 
 was beneath it. 
 " What should you think, Mr. Wild ? " 
 " Oh ! you ought to be the best judge of that, since 
 you know exactly what value you put upon it, and I 
 don't." 
 
 " But they will not expect the full value, surely ? " 
 " Something very like it they would, if they knew your 
 lordship set store by it." 
 
 " But they needn't know that." 
 " Certainly not ! " 
 
 " And then, another thing, they would not be able to 
 dispose of it to anyone ! It is too well known ! " 
 
 " In its present state it is; but, dear me, there :ire 
 men in London who will buy any kind of jewels, and ,isk 
 no questions." 
 
 "But how do they contrive to dispose of the stclen 
 goods ? " 
 
 " That, I imagine, is a secret best known to themselves. 
 I should think very likely the jewels were picked out, the 
 settings melted, and then remanufaetured, or perhaps sent 
 direct on to the continent." 
 
 " You seem to know all about it, Mr. Wild ? " 
 " I do, your lordship. In my position as head police- 
 officer it is necessary that I should know all about it." 
 " To be sure it is. But come, what is it to be ? " 
 " That," said Jonathan, pushing his wig back on to the 
 crown of his head. "That, as I said before, it would be 
 best for you to name ; but still, if your lordship wishes 
 me to make a suggestion — 
 " 1 do, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " That is sufficient. Then I humbly beg to suggest 
 that you offer four thousand guineas for the necklace ! " 
 
 " Four thousand guineas ! Nonsense. You must be 
 dreaming ! " 
 
 " Your lorr'coip forgets that you asked me to suggest an 
 amount."'/ 
 
 " I know '. -~J. But I consider that beyond the 
 bounds of alv i - eason." 
 
 " I am sorry that your *ordshit is of such an opinion. 
 It's quite erroneous, I can assure you — quite erroneous!" 
 
 Now, my lord, you have asked me a question to which 
 it is impossible for me to give a reply. 1 will, as I told 
 you in the first place, send out my agents to make inquiries 
 for it. Should they be snecessful, they will offer the three 
 thousand pounds ; but whether the person who holds the 
 necklace will give it up for that amount is more than I 
 can tell." 
 " I comprehend." 
 " I am glad you do." 
 
 " But I do not like the idea of encouraging robberies in 
 this way, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Of course you don't. No more would anyone else. 
 But this is it. The person who stole the necklace may be 
 found, captured, convicted, executed ; but that is all the 
 satisfaction you would have, my lord. You would never 
 see your diamond necklace again, unless under some form 
 when you would not recognize it." 
 
 "I suppose such is the case ; but surely, Mr. Wild, there 
 is room for amendment in the law, and next session I shall 
 assuredly bring the matter forward, and see if I cannot be 
 the means of having an alteration." 
 
 " Do so, my lord— do so. You will obtain the thanks of 
 the whole country at large." 
 
 A most infernal hypocrite was Jonathan Wild, for while 
 he uttered this speech, so inimical as it was to his own 
 interests, no one would have dreamed, to look at his face, 
 that he was doing other than enthusiastically enunciating 
 those opinions which he had nearest to his heart. 
 
 But he did not trust himself to speak further upon the 
 subject. 
 
 " However, your lordship, I am too much occupied just 
 now, and I dare say you are too to go any further into that 
 subject. Let us see that we clearly understand each other 
 about this diamond necklace ! " 
 " Very good." 
 
 " Your lordship offers three thousand pounds if it is 
 given up intact ? 
 " I do ! " 
 
 " And give your word to take no ulterior steps in the 
 matter ? " 
 
 " I suppose I must say yes to that too, though it goes 
 sadly against the grain." 
 
 " Then, your lordship," said Wild, getting down off his 
 stool, and holding open the door, " if you will call here 
 at this time to-morrow, I will give you a report of my 
 success. Good morning, your lordship, good morning ! 
 " Good morning, Mr. Wild ! " 
 
 Jonathan shook his head in quite a melancholy waa 
 
 " But, Mr". Wild, consider. You must surely have uiui' 
 some mistake. That is its lull value." 
 
 Jonathan appeared to reflect for a moment. 
 
 " Look here, your lordship, its no advantage to me, I 
 sacredly assure you, to advise you to give so much. In 
 tact, if your lordship had no* pressed me as you did, I 
 should not have named a sum at all. However, you are 
 not boun.d to follow my advice. Offer for its return vhat- 
 j g ver vou think proper, and I will try what can be dot e." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PLACES THE READER IN POSSESSION OF SOME FACTS 
 RELATIVE TO JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 With the greatest of care, Jonathan Wild closed the door 
 of his office after Cis noble visitor. 
 
 There was a contortion of his visage which might, 
 by a stretch of the imagination, be construed into a 
 grin. 
 
 He mounted his stool. 
 
 He lifted his hat. 
 
 There, on his desk, scattering faint scintillations of 
 light from its numerous facets, was the diamond neck- 
 lace. 
 
 Very rich, very chaste, very beautiful — but, above al', 
 very valuable it looked. 
 
 The contortion on Jonathan's face expanded. 
 
 The cackling noise in his throat, which we have before 
 j described, began to make itself heard. 
 
 The great thief-taker was undoubtedly delighted be- 
 yond measure. 
 
 He picked up the necklace by the clasp at one end of it, 
 and raised his arm so that it hung down in a straight 
 line. 
 
 Jonathan gazed at it with great admiration. 
 
 Like many, he bad a fancy for glittering ornaments, and <
 
 { , 
 
 ft 
 
 BTiUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 be took care thai there should be no lack of such things 
 about bis own apparel. 
 
 Few people at that time thought it, but tbey were all 
 genuino. 
 
 And co the contemplation simply of the diamond neck- 
 lace gave bim pleasure. 
 
 But, much as be admired and liked it, he preferred tbe 
 three tbousand guineas whicb Lord Iugestrie bad offered 
 for its restoration. 
 
 In the position Jonathan now beld tbe necklace, and as 
 
 can't be a stop put to such shameful, bare faced robberies! 
 I'll see what can and what can't be done! " 
 
 " I very much regret sucb a thing sbould have happened 
 your lordship, very sorry. But surely you do not blame 
 me in tbe matter ? " 
 
 " Oh no ! — oh no ! " replied Lord Ingestrie, in p *one ot 
 voice that belied bis words. " Only it seemed natural for 
 me to run in here ! " 
 
 " You were quite right in doing so, quite right ! Rely 
 upon it, everything shall be done that lies in my power to 
 
 be communicated to it a slight rotatory motion, it sparkled < get it back again for you, and if possible, to punish tbe 
 and looked most gorgeous. offender " 
 
 Then, having gazed his fill, be placed his other hand 
 underneath it, and lowered it slowly into his palm, where 
 it lay in a glittering, conglomerate heap. 
 
 He took hold of the clasp again, and amused himself by 
 gently raising and lowering it in his hand. 
 
 It was a childish action, but it pleased the great mind 
 of the great Jonathan Wild. 
 
 But his agreeable occupation was interupted. 
 A hasty step sounded in the passage without. 
 A hand was placed upon the handle of the door. 
 Before be bad time to do more than let tbe necklace 
 fall wholly into his left hand and close bis fingers over it, 
 which only in a very insufficient manner concealed it, the 
 door was opened, and Lord Ingestrie, looking heated and 
 excited, rushed in. 
 
 With a presence of mind really admirable, Jonathan, 
 without the least perceptible indication of embarrassment, 
 carried his left band to his coat pocket. 
 He dropped in the necklace, and was safe. 
 Turning towards Lord Ingestrie for an explanation of 
 his unlooked-for and hasty intrusion, he noticed that there 
 was an angry expression in his lordship's eyes. 
 
 " You are surprised to see me back, Mr. Wild, I have 
 no doubt?'' 
 
 Wild bowed in assent to tbe proposition. 
 " It is disgraceful — abominable, Mr. Wild — disgrace- 
 ful in the extreme! " 
 " My lord ? " 
 
 " That such things should happen in broad day in a 
 crowded street ! I say again it is abominable, Mr. Wild, 
 and is the result o* that system to which I have consented 
 to become a party." 
 
 " 1 do not understand— you have not informed me what 
 has taken place," said Wild, with some misgiving ; 
 " pray, my lord, be more explicit." 
 
 " Explicit ! what do you mean, Mr. Wild ? " 
 ". Your lordship forgets that you have not yet told me 
 what has happened that has so much disconcerted you " 
 
 " True ! " replied Lord Ingestrie. " I had forgot ! 
 Excuse me, 1 beg." 
 
 " No apologies, my lord— no apologies ! Pray tell me 
 what is the matter p " 
 
 "This! You are perhaps aware I came here in my 
 carriage ! " 
 
 " I was not aware of it, though, of course, I did not 
 suspect that you had come on foot." 
 
 " My man, while waiting for me it seems, walked the 
 horses up and down the street." 
 " Just so, your lordship." 
 
 " Well, when I left your door I saw the carriage a little 
 beyond the corner of Giltspur-street, and as I felt dis- 
 inclined to wait on your doorstep until he drew up, I 
 made him a sign that I would walk to the spot where the 
 carriage then was." 
 " Yes-yes ! " 
 
 " It was an unfortunate proceeding for me; for, before 
 I bad gone a dozen yards, a young chap ran up against 
 me. I guessed at his object, and endeavoured to capture 
 him, but he eluded my grasp, and was off round the 
 corner of the Old Bailey like a shot." 
 " Good gracious ! " 
 
 " And when I carried my hand to my pocket, I Icund 
 my gold repeater, chains, and seals clean gone." 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " I wish, with all my heart, it was. But my watch has 
 gone — stolen from mc \u tbe presence of fifty people, and 
 the thief escaped." 
 
 " It is a most unparalleled occurrence." 
 " Ought such a state of things to continue for a single 
 moment ?" asked his lordship, in a great rage. " Answer 
 me that ? But I'll rouse the country. I'll try if there 
 
 " Oh ! I have no doubt of that, Mr. Wild," said his 
 lordship, somewhat mollified. 
 
 " Can you give me a description of the thief ? " 
 
 " Well, hardly. He was young and thin, and that's all 
 I can say about him ! " 
 
 " You must allow, my lord, that that description is 
 rather vague! " 
 
 " I am conscious that it is — fully conocious." 
 
 " But, with respect to the watch and its appendages, I 
 suppose you can be a little more precise ? " 
 
 Oh — yes," said Lord Ingestrie, who thereupon en- 
 tered into a minute description of his watch and seals. 
 
 Jonathan took it down in some hieroglyphics which be 
 was pleased to dignify by tbe name of writing. 
 
 " You trust to me, my lord," he said. " When you call 
 here to-morrow for intelligence respecting the necklace, 
 I will try if I cannot give you some of a satisfactory 
 nature respecting vour watch and seals." 
 
 " Thanks, Mr. Wild ; and now I will go. This has 
 been a most unfortunate affair for me altogether." 
 
 " It has," said Jonathan, pulling his wig forward 
 vigorously, " and no one I atn sure deplores it more than 
 myself. Tbe only consolation I have in the matter is, 
 that I am in a position to do your lordship a service. If 
 1 could afford it, you should be put to no expense what- 
 ever." 
 
 " No, no, I don't wish that. It would not be fair. Good 
 morning, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Good morning, your lordship. I hope you will have 
 better luck this time." 
 
 " I will try, at all events," said Lord Ingestrie. 
 
 Wild listened for the closing of the first door. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! " he said, as soon as he heard tbe expected 
 sound, "ha, na ! Lost his watch ! He, he!" 
 
 Jonathan put on his bat, and took up his pet. 
 
 " Not a bad morniug's work, so far," he said. " What 
 a fool Pinching Tom must be, to be sure ! If be had just 
 been civil, as he ought, he would have had his share of 
 the swag ! " 
 
 He looked round his office. 
 
 " I've a good mind to pay a visit to C. 7," he said. " I've 
 a good mind, and 1 will too ! " 
 
 Having come to this determination, Jonathan hastily 
 left his office and passed out into the ball. 
 
 The man at the grating flung it open, and allowed Wild 
 to pass through. 
 
 We have already described tbe route to tbe cells or 
 dungeons beneath Wild's house. 
 
 Jonathan was soon at the door of C. 7. 
 
 He did not enter, though, nor did he even open the 
 door. 
 
 Just about on a level with his face was a little square 
 piece of wood, sliding in a groove, and this he pushed 
 aside. 
 
 It disclosed a circular aperture, crossed by three iron 
 bars. 
 
 Jonathan knocked at tbe cell door with his bludgeon, 
 making a terrible clatter. 
 
 " Hi, Tom ! Pinching Tom ! " he said. " Where are 
 you ? Fve come to see you, villain ! " 
 
 A suppressed howl came to his ears. 
 
 " Oh ! you are sulky, Tom, my friend, are you ? You'll 
 soon get over that ! You'll know how to speak another 
 time, and be civil to me ; that is, if you have the eha:ace ! 
 You're a clever chap, though, Tom, and I shouldn't like 
 to part with you just yet. Now, then, are you going to 
 speak or not, eh ? ' 
 
 " What do yoa want f " °rowled a voice. 
 Speak respectfully, you villainous-looking wretch ! 
 want to l:e ticked up on 
 
 Speak civilly, without you 
 Mnudav ! Do you hear f "
 
 ■BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 19 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " If you had ;poke as you ought when you came in, I 
 should have givcu ia som hing worth having for the 
 necklace, but I o. .cred you fifty pounds to make you >now 
 yourself better. Do you hear .hat, Tom ? " 
 
 " I does, Mr. Wild, I does." 
 
 Pinching Tom's voice was becoming more submissive in 
 its tone. 
 
 Perhaps he had come to the conclusion that it wouiU be 
 preferable to sacrifice some of his insolent bearing to 
 losing his life on the scaffold, for he knew well enough 
 Wild had the power to send him there. 
 
 " I hopes, Mr. Wild, as how you'll forgive me this 
 time," he said, " and I will bring you something worth 
 your while to have. I'm sure that necklace is more than 
 any one else has ever brought ! " 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is, Tom, perhaps it is ! I've got a 
 tender heart, Tom, and I couldn't go and sit down leaving 
 you here. You promise to do differently in future ? " 
 
 " I does, Mr. Wild ; 1 does indeed, if you'll only let 
 
 me out ! 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GIVES THE READER A DEEPER INSIGHT INTO JONATHAN S 
 MODE OF LIFE. 
 
 Jonathan Wild unlocked the cell door, and flung it open 
 upon its hinges. 
 
 Pinching Tom came forth. 
 
 Straws were entangled in his hair, and clinging to 
 various portions of his apparel. 
 
 Ou tbe whole, he looked much the worse for his brief 
 sojourn in C. 7. 
 
 He stood before the great thief- taker in an attitude 
 humble enough to satisfy him, and waited for him to 
 «peak. 
 
 " This is an act more clement, I can assure you, than I 
 generally perform." 
 
 " I knows it, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " But I like you, Tom ! You are a clever fellow ! 
 That's why I give you a chance for Your life." 
 
 " Thanks, Mr. Wild ! " 
 
 " Oh ! stuff. Be off with you ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " But mind you, if you don't act up to the square, so 
 sure as I'm a living man 1 will have you convicted and 
 executed ; so mind that ! " 
 
 There was something very horrible in the vindictive way 
 in which Wild pronounced these words. 
 
 Pinching Tom shuddered. 
 
 " You may trust me, Mr. Wild, I am sure." 
 
 " Very well, come along, and say no more about it." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild fastened the door of No. 7, and pre- 
 ceded Pinching Tom along the passage, who was glad 
 enough when he emerged into Newgate-street — never 
 had it seemed to wear so bright an appearance as it did 
 then. 
 
 But at present it is not Pinching Tom with whom we 
 have to do, but Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Having thus released his prisoner, he ascended the 
 broad flight of stairs in the hall, and entered a front room 
 on the first floor. 
 
 This was his private apartment, where he repaired to 
 solace himself with a glass, and cogitate upon the affairs 
 ol tbe day, and concoct new villainies for the morrow. 
 
 When he opened the door there arose from the hearth a 
 dog wLo, with lowered ears and tail, slunk across the 
 room towards him. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild's dog. 
 
 He, with a sagacity that was almost human, had learned 
 that submission was what his master liked to see, and he 
 exhibited it accordingly. 
 
 But by no means was he a coward ; he was cunning and 
 ferocious as the thief-taker himself. 
 
 Had any one seen him they would have set him down 
 as an ugly customer. 
 
 When ib the streets — for he sometimes accompanied 
 Jonathan in his excursions — he was looked at with sus- 
 picion by the passengers, and Cuildren ran terrified away, 
 while other dogs, by various artifices, endeavoured to 
 elude his observation 
 
 In his way he was as much feared as his owner. 
 
 We do not know how it was that Jonathan Wild came 
 
 to keep a dog, unless we account for it on the principle 
 that all human natures, no matter how brutal, have a 
 certain amount of affection which they find it is necessary 
 to have some object to transfer to. 
 
 But one would think there was scarcely enough of this 
 feeling in Jonathan Wild's disposition to make it requisite 
 that he should have something to carry it off. 
 
 But, be that as it may, there was the dog, and one fact 
 is worth a thousand theories. 
 
 Very short in the nose, very thick in the neck, very 
 broad in the chest, very slim in the body was Jonathan 
 Wild's dog. 
 
 He looked up in his master's face, and seeing there 
 a rather more complacent expression than usual, ventured 
 to prick up his ears, and in a feeble kind of way to wag 
 his apology for a tail. 
 
 But he did not presume upon any further demonstration 
 of affection. 
 
 He crept back to his position on the hearth. 
 
 Jonathan's face certainly did look calm and composed — 
 wonderfully so. 
 
 He was illuding himself with the notion that he had, 
 by releasing Pinching Tom, done a generous and noble 
 action. 
 
 But it was poblcy alone that induced him to do what he 
 had done. < 
 
 Well enough he knew the value of him, and that it 
 would be long before he found any one who could replace 
 him. 
 
 Still he thought the little piece of discipline he had 
 administered would be beneficial. 
 
 Whether it really was or no time alone can tell us. 
 
 Jonathan drew a chair to the table and sat down. 
 
 He removed his hanger from his waist, and stood it up 
 against the mantel -piece. 
 
 Upon the table were a bottle, glass jug, a clay pipe, 
 and several other articles. 
 
 He took up the bottle, and poured some fluid from it 
 into the glass, which from its colour and odour was 
 surely brandy. 
 
 Then he filled his pipe, lighted it, and leaned back ia 
 his chair. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was at ease! 
 
 He smoked with great deliberation, fixing his eyes first 
 on the rude pictures, which certainly hid the nakedness of 
 the walls, if they did no more, and then upoi the 
 emoke-begrimed ceiling. 
 
 And this was what Jonathan conceived enjoyment 
 to be. 
 
 Some people have most eccentric ideas upon the subject. 
 
 But much as may be said against Jonathan's mode 
 of enjoying himself, surely it was not so bad as thoso 
 who flocked by thousands to see a poor woman risk her 
 life in Aston-park the other day by walking on a frail 
 rope stretched many feet above the ground. 
 
 They were gratified, doubtless, at the consummation 
 of the tragedy — they were at any rate, if their behaviour 
 afterwards be taken as a criterion. 
 
 In our opinion they were just a trifle worse than 
 Jonathan Wild ! 
 
 And that is saying a great deal ! 
 
 Wild grew still more and more composed. 
 
 Things had gone well with him that day. 
 
 And now we think that as he is in such a happy frame 
 of mind, we cannot do better than take the opportunity, 
 as such a good one may never occur again, of giving 
 the reader a yet clearer insight into Wild's household 
 arrangements, and very questionable transactions. 
 
 It will save much future trouble, and assist greatly to 
 make the reader fully comprehend what follows. 
 
 These details too, will be interesting in an historical 
 point of view, since the writer has taken the trouble to 
 peruse the Old Bailey records, from whence he has de- 
 rived the fullest and most authentic information relative 
 to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 In the course of the ensuing narrative, the whole of the 
 facts he has gathered will be embodied, so 'hat it may 
 be relied upon as an authentic account of his entire 
 career. 
 
 The same remarks will apply also to the other two 
 prominent characters — Jack Sheppard and Joseph Blake, 
 alias Blueskin. 
 
 These three individuals are universally aUosv^i to V0
 
 n 
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOIIAKCIB. 
 
 the most extraordinary characters which the criminal 
 records of any country can exhibit. 
 
 The maia thread or outline of this romance may there- 
 fore be relied upon as actual fact, the subsidiary portions 
 being composed of simply such incidents as may call forth 
 the deepest degree of interest. 
 
 It has been hinted a few pages back that Jonathan 
 Wild had at his command a gang of desperadoes. 
 
 Such was the fact. 
 
 The principal members of this band were Blueskin, who 
 was second in command to Wild himself, and Quilt 
 Arnold. 
 
 Ostensibly a chief of the police, Jonathan was enabled 
 to keep these men without suspicion or remark, since 
 they were all attired in a precisely similar manner to the 
 ordinary police force, and their duties were supposed to 
 be similar also. 
 
 But such was very far from being the case. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had also established himself upon a 
 firmer basis by ingratiating himself with the ruling 
 powers by the discovery of Jacobite plots, and the de- 
 livery of the offenders to justice. 
 
 Such things just then were very common, for the 
 change of dynasty had not endured for a period of time 
 sufficiently long for the people to get used to it, and 
 for the prejudices in favour of the occupation of the 
 throne by the Stuarts, who had held it for so many 
 generations, to become extinct. 
 
 Many people, therefore, who felt those very ticklish 
 things called honour and conscience were concerned in 
 the matter, endeavoured to fan the breath of rebellion 
 id the land, and to some great extent succeeded. 
 
 The three first Georges had a mortal terror of the 
 Jacobites, as all the adherents to the deposed king 
 James were called, and they used every means they 
 could devise for their extermination. 
 
 When therefore Jonathan showed himself instrumental 
 in bringing many of these people to the scaffold, he 
 was looked upon with an eye of favour by the Court 
 party, and there is no doubt that this was the reason 
 why many of his mal-practices were allowed to pass 
 unnoticed. 
 
 But as he found himself so eminently successful, 
 larger schemes of aggrandizement began to dawn upon 
 Wild's mind. 
 
 He conceived and carried out the very original plan of 
 organizing all the thieves of the metropolis into one body, 
 who should all look to him as their leader. 
 
 The mode of operations was very simple. 
 
 Whatever booty tbey might be successful in obtaining 
 was to be brought at once to Jonathan Wild, who gave 
 them for it a certain sum of money, of cours *> very much 
 less than the real value of the articles, and yet more than 
 they could obtain of the ordinary receivers of stolen goods 
 in the metropolis. 
 
 He exercised over these men a tremendous power, 
 since he was able, at any time, to get up a case against 
 them, and have them convicted and executed. 
 
 Hence, it was clearly the best policy to keep friends 
 with Jonathan Wild, for, so long as they did so, they were 
 exempt from the penalty which the iaw demanded for 
 their crimes. 
 
 But that was only one portion of Wild's business. 
 He not only trafficked with the thieves, but also, as in 
 the case of Lord Ingestrie, with the persons from whom 
 things had been stolen. 
 
 And incredible as such a scene as that described as 
 taking place between Wild and Lord Ingestrie may be, 
 yet it is no more than a bare statement of tacts. 
 
 Of course there were many people who were robbed 
 of highly-prized articles, who were glad to obtain Wild's 
 assistance to get back their property for a consideration. 
 
 His statement with respect to the manner in which the 
 stolen goods eama into his possession wn.s straightforward 
 in the extremt. 
 
 His officers, he saia, were mostly able, by making in- 
 quiries at places where thieves wer^ known to congregate, 
 to ascertain who had the article, and for what sum they 
 would be willing to give it up, and no quest'ons asked. 
 
 To this, for the reasons given, people were generally 
 glad enough to agree. 
 
 Then, wiili an art that was reallv consummate. Wild 
 
 always refused to make any charge for hi* '■so-jble in 
 getting back the stolen goods. 
 
 He pretended that it was a part of his duty, though, at 
 the same time, he contrived to hint that he should not be 
 offended if some gratuity were offered to him for his ser- 
 vices, the amount of such gratuity to be proportionate to 
 the worth they attached to what he had done. 
 
 In this way he avoided liability to the laws, for it was 
 not until years afterwards, when his transactions came to 
 light, that such a thing amounted to compounding a 
 felony. 
 
 But, as the reader can already see, such was not Wild's 
 precise method of carrying on his business. 
 
 All stolen goods were, in the first instance, brought 
 direct to him, and, upon their handing them over to him, 
 he gave a certain amount, running the risk whether there 
 should happen to be any inquiries made about them. 
 
 Hence it often happened — as in the case of the diamond 
 necklace — that Wild had the goods actually in his pos- 
 session when people came to make inquiries about them, 
 and employ him to get them back. 
 
 But Wild was always politic enough to allow a day or 
 two, and sometimes a week to elapse, before the goods 
 were restored. 
 
 By doing this he not only warded off suspicion, but 
 apparently enhanced the value of his services. 
 
 But there was another contingency to provide against. 
 
 Of course a large proportion of the stolen goods be pur- 
 chased were never asked about at all, so a means had to 
 be devised for their safe and profitable disposal. 
 
 To do this Wild again exhibited his invention. A Dutch 
 trading vessel was purchased by him, and provided with a 
 crew. 
 
 This ship — or rather lugger — conveyed ostensibly ordi- 
 nary merchandise, but it also served to transport the 
 stolen property to Holland, where there was no danger 
 nor difficulty of disposing of it at a large profit-. 
 
 From this it must be evident that Jonathan amassed a 
 large sum of money, though what became of it no one 
 knows. 
 
 He certainly never spent it all himself. 
 
 The presumption is he had some place or places for 
 secreting it, and where it was never found. 
 
 There was also another source of income which Wild 
 had, and upon which we have not touched. 
 
 Provided, as he was known to be, with powers from the 
 Secretary of State, which no one could form a correct 
 estimate of, he did not scruple to seize upon many innocent 
 people and immure them in the cells beneath his house, 
 where, if they did not choose to submit to the extortion of 
 a large ransom, they were denounced as Jacobites and 
 traitors. 
 
 That a denunciation of such crimes at that period by no 
 less an accuser than Jonathan Wild was equivalent to con- 
 demnation and execution is a well-known fact, so it is not 
 to be wondered at, that people of the two evils chose 
 the less, and submitted to be mulcted in a large amount. 
 
 But we have yet further to go. 
 
 Utterly indifferent upon the subject of Jacobinism or 
 loyalty — though it is mentioned by many that he had a 
 decided leaning towards the former -Jonathan did not 
 scruple to act in the same manner with those who were 
 really guilty of the crimes of which they were accused, 
 and thus they had an opportunity, by giving Wild a large 
 sum of money, of evading the consequences of their 
 actions. 
 
 Then there is every reason to suppose that Wild, by 
 lendi: g himself to some rather underhand measures pro- 
 posed by the government, contrived to extort large sums 
 from them also, as well as immunity for his offences. 
 
 Thus, no matter how things stood, money was sure to 
 come into Jonathan Wild's hanils somehow. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 BLUESKIN INTRODUCES JACK SHEI'PARD To JONATHAN 
 WILD. 
 
 "Jack — Jack ! Lift up your head. Wake up ! wake up ! 
 There's business to do, and if you are going to do it, you 
 must not be sleeping here. Awake ! Awake, I say ! 
 It was Blueskin who aoolta
 
 BUJESKTM : A ROMANCE. 
 
 II 
 
 The boisterous company, which had assembled at the 
 " Black Lion," had gradually dispersed. 
 
 To cnem, as to wild predatory animals, the advent of 
 the aay was the signal for them to seek some place of 
 concealment until darkness again descended upon i*~ a , 
 earth . 
 
 So on6 ~y one, as the faint light of the approaching 
 day straggled into the kitchen of the old inn, its noisy 
 occupants slunk away. 
 
 Some went into Drury-lane, who lost no time in diving 
 into the numerous courts that there abound, and others 
 into odd nooks and corners of the inn itself. 
 
 These were the favoured few to whom the landlord, Joe 
 Johnson, extended his protecting arm. 
 
 And so, ere the rising sun had shed his first beams upon 
 the roof-tops, Joe Blake and his old comrade's son were 
 the only persons left in the apartment. 
 
 Jack was sleeping heavily — so heavily that Blake could 
 not awaken him. 
 
 His arms had fallen upon the table and his head on to 
 his arms, and there he lay like one dead. 
 
 Hi; breathing was heavy. 
 
 He w is sleeping off the effects of the deep potations 
 in which he had indulged, and to which he was so un- 
 accustomed. 
 
 Upon Blueskin they appeared to have taken no effect. 
 
 He shook Jack roughly, and lifted up his head. 
 
 But even that failed to arouse him in the least. 
 
 He let his head fall again on to his arms. 
 
 " Its no good trying to wake him up, I see," he said. 
 " If I did he would be as stupid as an owl. He must 
 sleep on, not here, though. Johnson, Johnson, my boy ! 
 come here ! " 
 
 In obedience to bis call the landlord appeared upon the 
 threshold. 
 
 " fin's is a particular friend of mine," he said, " and 
 you must find some place where he can have an hour or 
 two's sleep." 
 
 " Oh ! all right ! I can soon do that, if you will bring 
 ' him upstairs." 
 
 " That's no trouble," said Blueskin. " Here you go ! " 
 
 So saying, he raised Jack in his arms, and followed the 
 landlord out of the kitchen, along the passage, and up two 
 flight;; of stairs. 
 
 Hero the landlord pushed open a door, and Blake fol- 
 lowed him into a double-bedded room. 
 
 In Blueskin's powerful arms Jack was no more than 
 a child would be in the hands of most persons, so he 
 walked across the room without an effort, and laid him on 
 the bed. 
 
 " And what are you going to do, Blake ? " asked the 
 landlord, when Jack was thus satisfactorily disposed of. 
 
 " 1 must be off to my old quarters. Jonathan may 
 want me, and I never like to be out of the way when he 
 does." 
 
 " I s'pose not," said Johnson, descending the stairs. 
 " Ah ! he'a a wonderful man, is Mr. Wild — a wonderful 
 man ! Any one could see that with half an eye ! " 
 
 " And," said Joe, " if you could look at him with both 
 your eyes wide open, you would think him a wonderful 
 man indeed." 
 
 " I daresay, I daresay." 
 
 " But, JohnsoD, my boy, the lad upstairs is the son of 
 my eld comrade ! Look after him carefully. When he 
 awakes, let him have just what he likes. I will be 
 answerable for it." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 " Do not, however, let him leave the place on any 
 account. It will be some hours, I rather think, before be 
 opens his e\ es again ! Tell him to expect me every 
 minute ! " 
 
 ' Then you are coming back to-day ? " 
 
 ,: Oh ! most certainly, you may expect to see me soon 
 after noon." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Blake ; you may depend upon things 
 being just as you desire. Good-bye ! " 
 
 The landlord watched Blueskin cross Drury-lane, and 
 turn aowu White Horse-yard on the opposite side of the 
 way. 
 
 ' Ah ! " £ 9 daid to himself, " strange fellow, mat ! he 
 seems all c^er. a . - 1 candid, hut I can't make him out a 
 bit — r.ot a bit ! lie's a oe: f ect mystery to me. Here 
 so-neumes he speaks like a 'lackguard, sometimes like a 
 bora gentleman ! It's very strange. Perhaps I shall know 
 
 who he is some day. I'll warrant, now, his name is do 
 more Blake than it is Blueskin ! I'd give no small trifle 
 to hear his history, that I would ! Perhaps I shall know 
 it some day. Those that live longest stand the best chance 
 of seeing and hearing most." 
 
 With this trite observation, the landlord of the " Black 
 Lion " turned away from the street door to attend to his 
 household di ties. 
 
 It war aln ost twelve o'clock when Jack awoke from his 
 lethargi i slu ober. 
 
 He lo Ifler] about him for a few moments bewildered and 
 surprised. 
 
 He could not make out how he came to be where he 
 was.. 
 
 There is scarcely anything more cenfusing to the per- 
 ceptions than to wake up suddenly in a strange place which 
 we have never before seen. 
 
 Jack just took one glance around him, and then closed 
 his eyes again. 
 
 A measured and heavy footstep on the stairs attracted 
 his attention. 
 
 He raised himself up a little on his elbow, and listened. 
 
 But the effort was a painful one. 
 
 His head ached horribly. 
 
 Nearer and nearer, however came the lumbering 
 footsteps. 
 
 The door opened. 
 
 A face and form, of which he seemed to have some dim 
 recollection, stood upon the threshold. 
 
 It was Joe Johnson, the landlord. 
 
 " So you've woke up at last, have you ? " he said, 
 roughly, but yet kindly. " Blest if I didn't think you had 
 gone to sleep for good ! " 
 
 " Who are you F" said Jack ; " and what place is this ? 
 I seem to know your face, and yet I cannot recollect who 
 you are." 
 
 " Me ? Oh ! I'm the landlord here. The " Black Lion", 
 you know. This is one of my bed-rooms. Joe Johnson 
 is my name. Mr. Blake put you there, and told me to 
 look after you. Understand ? He will be here directly-"' 
 
 " Blake — Blake ! " repeated Jack, confusedly. " I>!a=i. . 
 Who's Blake ? " 
 
 " Oh, I can see there will be no good done with you in 
 the way of talking just yet a bit. Take my advice. Lie 
 still for half-an-hour. Don't go to sleep, though. You 
 will find yourself better then. When you fiud your ideas 
 a getting out of a tangle, jump up and pour this jug of 
 cold water over your head. You will be as right as a 
 trivet then. Good bye to you. Don't forget, Mr. Blake 
 will be here soon." 
 
 The landlord left the room. 
 
 Johnson's words exactly expressed the state of Jack's 
 mind. 
 
 It was in a tangle. 
 
 By slow degrees, however, as he lay upon the bed with 
 his eyes closed, all that had occurred on" the previous 
 night arranged itself chronologically in his thoughts. 
 
 He recollected the quarrel he had had with his master. 
 How he had been taunted with being the son of a man 
 who was hanged. How he had been called a thief. How 
 he had rushed from his master's house into the streets 
 with fierce, vindictive words upon his lips. How he Lad 
 returned at {'-it still hour of the night when first we saw 
 him, and heaped curses unon his master's head. Then 
 came the struggle with the watchmen. His escape. His 
 entry into the "Black Lion." The man with the blue face. 
 The mention of his father's name. What had been said ; 
 and after that all was blank. 
 
 But it was no dfficult matter to fill up the hiatus of bis 
 thoughts. 
 
 By the time he had done this he felt wonderfully 
 better. 
 ' His head ached, but his brain was no longer perplexed. 
 
 He sprang from the bed, and seeing a huge pitcher of 
 water, he followed the landlord's advice, and plunged his 
 head completely iuto it. 
 
 The water, when it touched his inflamed skin, seemed 
 icy cold. 
 
 It bubbled pleasantly about his ears and neck. 
 
 Tie pain ceased as if by nngic. 
 
 It was such a relief, and so delightful to have his head 
 under water, that he could not draw it oiu u-itil his failing 
 breath compelled him. 
 
 Then he felt wonderfully better.
 
 « 
 
 SttJESKIN: A HOMAMt. 
 
 Of a surety the landlord's treatment was efficacious, and 
 e ducked in his head again and again, until at length he 
 t-lt himself completely revived. 
 
 He proceeded then to arrange his apparel. 
 
 When he had finished he looked indeed very little the 
 xorse for his night's debauch. His eyes were bloodshot, 
 and the lids full and overhanging, but that was ail. 
 
 He stood, too, pretty firmly upon his legs. 
 
 " Let me see," he said, " the landlord toll me, x think, 
 I was to wn.it here until Blake, or Blueskin, as they call 
 him, came. What does he want me for? Oh, I recol- 
 lect— to joiu Jonathan Wild's band ! I will do it, for 
 something 6eems to tell me that the celebrated thief- 
 taker and myself will be great friends. Perhaps, then, I 
 may have my revenge upon John Roots ! Oh, that would 
 be sweet, indeed ! " 
 
 The very tl -ught of the distant prospect, even of con- 
 summating his revenge upon his master, appeared to 
 endow him with a fresh accession of strength. 
 
 John Roots had raised up a more terrible enemy than 
 he imagined. 
 
 Jack Sheppard stepped towards the door. 
 
 But just as he was about to fling it open and descend 
 the stairs, he again heard the approach of some one. 
 
 He drew back at once. 
 
 That subtility of intellect which pervaded all his actions 
 prompted him instinctively to draw back rather than open 
 the door, though he knew very well he had nothing to 
 dread. 
 
 It was Blueskin. 
 
 " Bravo ! " he said, on his entrance, on seeing how well 
 Jack looked. " Bravo ! Come along down stairs, and 
 then to Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I am ready," replied Jack. " I'll follow." 
 
 The pair quickly descended the stairs. 
 
 " In here first,' said Blake, catching Jack by the sleeve, 
 and dragging him through a little door on the right. "In 
 iiere first." 
 
 > t was the bar. 
 
 •' Now Johnson, a couple of glasses of your best 
 fe&tdy, and then we're off! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Blake; with pleasure sir." 
 
 It was at first against Jack's inclination to imbibe any 
 more spirits, but he was prevailed upon by his companion 
 to do so. 
 
 " Just this one toothful," he said. " It is just what 
 vou require to set you right. You mark my words if you 
 don't feel another man after it." 
 
 The toothful, as Blueskin called it, was a good-sized 
 wine-glass full. 
 
 Nevertheless, Jack drank it off. 
 
 He became at once conscious of its effects. 
 
 The dull feeling which had oppressed him both bodily 
 and mentally, passed away as if by magic. 
 
 Its effect was to produce a buoyancy of spirit, and a 
 degree of recklessness which he had never before ex- 
 hibited. 
 
 "Hurrah!" he said. "I'm all right now, and ready 
 lor anything." 
 
 "That's the ticket, then. We ought to lose no time, 
 'or I left Mr. Wild in his little room upstairs, where he 
 always sits for an hour or two in the afternoon. That's 
 when he's best tempered." 
 
 " Who care3 whether he's good-tempered or bad, eh ? 
 I don't Blueskin, I don't." 
 
 Blake slapped him on the back just between the 
 abould-ers. 
 
 " Capital." ha said, 
 your father. Capital, 
 civil, but bold." 
 
 " Oh, come along, I am ready to see him. 
 Johnson, old boy. 
 
 'She landlord of the " Black Lion " looked quite aguast 
 t . the sudden change. 
 
 The fact was it wa n not altogether owing to the brandy 
 having got into Jack's head that this sudden alteration 
 look place, nor was it artificial and foreign to his nature. 
 On the contrary, he had been noted for his recklessness, 
 audacity, and good humour. 
 
 Th-o events which we have at some length uescribed, 
 ■ >i course had for a Lime the natural result of diminishing 
 c«ic- viniberance of his spirits, but with the elasticity cf 
 yuuth be had overcome all that. 
 
 " Capital ! That was just like 
 Bet when you see Mr. Wild be 
 
 Good bve, 
 
 "Now, Jack," he said, as they shaped their way »c 
 wards Newgate-street ; " just listen to me ! " 
 
 He was encouraged by his strange and newly-formea 
 friend, whom he followecl eagerly to the street-door. 
 
 " Cut along." 
 
 " If you only manage matters careful t y you will get on 
 in the world. I have taken a great fancy to you, and i 
 will look after you. Now, as you know, I am going to 
 introduce you to Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " The great ? " 
 
 " Yes ; Jonathan Wild, the great ! He is a great man, 
 but, like all other great men, he has a weakness. It is 
 harmless enough, and I won't say not natural enorgh, 
 but it is a weakness notwithstanding." 
 
 "Oh! it is?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And what is yours ?" 
 
 "Mine?" 
 
 " Yes, yours." 
 
 " I haven't one." 
 
 " How can that be ? " 
 
 " Oh ! easily enough." 
 
 " 1 don't see it." 
 
 " You don't ? " 
 
 " Most certainly not." 
 
 " What did you tell me just now ? " 
 
 " What about ? " 
 
 "Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " And what about him ? " 
 
 " You said that every great man had his weakness." 
 
 " I know I did, and it's quite true." 
 
 " Then what's your weakness ? You don't mean to 
 say you are not a great man ? " 
 
 " Oh ! stop your jokes. Listen to what I am going 
 to tell you ; you'll find it very important to you indeed." 
 
 " Oh ! bother ; listen to me. If every great man has a 
 weakness, is every one who has got a weakness a great 
 man ? " 
 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 " Because, if that's the case — and your's aint good 
 logic if it isn't — 1 am a great man. I've got a weakness 
 — a strong weakness, too ! I love all the pretty girls I 
 see." 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Jack, or I'm off, mind that. 'Wo- 
 man's the devil,' as the old proverb says, and you'll find 
 it out one of these days if you don't watch it." 
 
 "Nevermind; I shall love them just the same bless 
 their hearts. But what do you want to tell me ? " 
 
 " Ah ! now you're getting a little bit reasonable. 
 Really, sirce you had that nip of brandy, you don't seem 
 like the same." 
 
 " Oh ! I feel all right, and as happy as a king. The 
 only drawback is, 1 haven't had an opportunity of serving 
 old Roots out." 
 
 "An opportunity will be sure to occur sooner or later, 
 Jack, so don't let that trouble you. Now, here we are, 
 at the corner of the Old Bailey, so if you want to hear 
 how you are to behave to Mr. Wild, and have any regard 
 for your neck, you'll listen patiently to what I've got to 
 say." 
 
 " I am listening," said Jack. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 RELATES THE MANNER IN WHICH JACK SHEPPARD COM. 
 MITTED HIS FIRST ROBBERY. — THE ALARM. 
 
 He looked up at the large, black, gloomy-looking prison 
 as he spoke. 
 
 Old Newgate ! 
 
 Not the present uniform-looking structure, but the 
 building which preceded it. 
 
 Little did Jack think, as he gazed upon the shining 
 walls, how intimately that structure and himself were 
 to be connected, and tho fate for which he was pre- 
 doomed. 
 
 But, in fact, he had no opportunity for thoncht, for his 
 companion spoke to him earnestly. 
 
 " There is nothing," said he, " which Mr. Wild ruinka 
 so much of as being treated with respectful submission : 
 mind that ! He does not like one who is afraid to n-.cve 
 or speak, nor yet one that would cheek him iD his own 
 house." 
 
 " 1 understand." 
 
 " He is a man who possesses an unliiuited extent a£
 
 BtTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 fl 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD RESCUING THE SHROUDMAKER. ] 
 
 power; therefore it is to the advantage of everyone to 
 keep on the right side of him ! He allows me to 
 make freer with him than anyone else, but even I am 
 careful." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " Look, here i. his house. This is his door. Now, 
 Jack, don't forger to bear in mind what I have told 
 you. If he is pleased with you, he will engage you at 
 once." 
 
 " Don't be afraid." 
 
 " I tell you for your own good," said Blueskin, producing 
 a key from his pocket, \ i';!-. which he opened thes^eet- 
 door of Wild's basse. " Come in." 
 
 Jack stepped xeo the hall with a confident air. 
 
 But, although Blueskin could thus at j-leasare enter 
 Wild's house, yet it was none the less guarded. Taking 
 pattern by the prisons, to which Wild's house altogether 
 dc e a strong resemblance, he had a man stationed at 
 Z~r:b. cfeor of any importance, whose duty it was to see that 
 
 none passed the portal except those who had a right to 'Vj 
 so. 
 
 This office was taken in turns by Wild's men, and the 
 man at the post was termed " on the lock." 
 
 Tonks was " on the lock" on this occasion. 
 
 Poor Tonks, who had received such summary and 
 condign punishment for daring to laugh at \is august 
 master ! 
 
 He got up v, hen he saw Blueskin enter. 
 
 He put his hand to his back with a rueful and piteous 
 air r s 10 hobbled forward, making m^'j a strange grimace 
 the while. 
 
 Apparently Jack srw in it the elements of something 
 mirthful, for he laugh "d unrestrainedly. 
 
 Tonks scowled at him. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! you may laugh, my young spark ! Some 
 time or other you'll know what it is to laugh on the 
 wrong- side of your face. Curse you ! On — o— ch ! 
 Murder! The devil I" S 
 
 No. 3. 
 GRATIS with this Number, The COLOURED PICTURE of BLTTESXIN AND 
 JACK SHEPPARD ESCAPE FROM JONATHAN WILD.
 
 18 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 A sudden accession of pain in the region of Tonks's 
 back made him utter these sudden cries and twist himself 
 into sundry curious shapes. 
 
 " This way," said Blueskin. " You'd better mind what 
 you're at, or vou'll find yourself in the same stato as he 
 is." 
 
 "What's the matter?' 
 H Ob ! be offended Mr. Wild this morning." 
 " Well ! " 
 
 " So Jonathan gave him two smacks with his bludgeon 
 —pet he calls it." 
 Jack whistled. 
 
 " Oh.! that's Mr. Wild, is it ? Now, what did he do to 
 offend him ?" 
 
 "Laughed!" 
 
 " Eh ? What ? Oh ! gammon. You don't mean to say 
 he had that for laughing ? " 
 
 " I do though ; but silence ! This is Mr. Wild's room. 
 Don't say another word." 
 
 Blueskin tapped with his knuckles upon the panel of 
 the door. 
 
 Jack was not quite at ease. 
 t He drew . an unfavourable conclusion with regard to 
 Jonathan's character, from the fact that he had mal- 
 treated one of his men for such an offence. 
 
 Fain would he, if he had the power, have drawn back. 
 
 Bat a harsh, inarticulate growl, which might be trans- 
 lated iato " Come in ! " arose from the other side of the 
 door. 
 
 Blueskin opened it at once and beckoned Jack. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was in pretty much the same position as 
 he was when we saw him last — that is to say, seated at 
 the table smoking his pipe, and occasionally solacing him- 
 self with a draught somewhat stronger than water, which 
 stood on the table before him. 
 
 He had taken off his hat and wig. 
 
 His hideous physiognomy, with its numeroa.. scars and | 
 patches, was therefore displayed to the greatest perfec- : 
 tion. 
 
 He glanced at the new comer with some surprise. 
 
 Blueskin walked up to the table. 
 
 Jack Sheppard crossed the room, and, taking off his 
 hat, made Jonathan a bow, in -which respect, dread, and 
 insolence were curiously mingled. 
 
 Wild's dog rose from the hearth, and looked up into j 
 Jack's face with a dubious glance. 
 
 Jonathan acknowledged Jack's bow by removing his 
 iong clay pipe from his mouth. I 
 
 Blueskin, with an amount of familiarity which no 
 one else dare assume, filled a glass from Jonathan's 
 bottle. 
 
 He held it half-way to his lips. 
 
 " Mr. Wild," he said, " I have to-day a great and unes- j 
 pected pleasure, one that I " — 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 Wild wa6 getting impatient. 
 
 " 1 have the pleasure, Mr. Wild, of introducing to your ! 
 favourable notice the only son of my esteemed comrade, 
 Tom Sheppard." 
 
 Jack made another bow. 
 
 Blueskin took a sip from the glass, 
 
 "Tom Sheppard, the crcaksmau 't ' 
 looking at Jack with growing interest. 
 the cracksman ? " 
 
 " The very same, Mr. Wild," said Bluerkiu, " he's been 
 driven from his master, and wants you to take him into 
 your service." 
 
 Jack made a third bow to confirm the truth of what 
 Blueskin had advanced, but he did not speak. 
 
 Wild was conciliated. 
 
 He filled a glass and pushed it towards Jack. 
 
 " Very glad to see you," he said, in as amiable tones 
 as he could assume. " Act square, and then all's right, 
 ain't it, Blue ? " 
 
 " It is, Mr. Wild. And as for my friend Jack here, I 
 can answer for him. He'll turn out a great man, Mr. 
 Wild, I am sure of it." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! What's he going to do ? Father's business, 
 - ti.?" 
 
 " Exactly, Mr. Wild. I'll put him up to it." 
 
 "Ah, do ! Does he know the conditions." 
 
 " ifot yet, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Ohr' 
 
 " I thought it best not to say anytfcing abou'1 it till I 
 
 ejaculated Wild, 
 " Tom Sheppard, 
 
 had brought him before you, and found whether you were 
 inclined to take him into your service." 
 
 " Right," said Jonathan, approvingly. " Then I'll 
 tell him myself, eh ? " 
 
 " If you don't mind the trouble, Mr. Wild, if would, 
 perhaps, be quite as well." 
 
 Artful Blue. 
 
 Those were the speeches Wild delighted to hear. 
 
 And he knew it. 
 
 " Sit down, then," said Jonathan, graciously. " Fill up 
 your glasses, and then we'll talk business." 
 I " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jack drew up a chair to the table, and sat down in it 
 with a careless air, as though he felt quite at home. 
 
 The glasses were filled to the brim, and Wild relighted 
 his pipe. 
 
 He turned towards Jack. 
 
 " Ah ! well," he said, " you've heard what my lieutenant 
 has said about .you ! What's your name ?" 
 
 " Jack, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Well, Jack, and you're quite willing to assist me, 
 eh ?" 
 
 " I am," said Jack, " and I hope you'll prove a better 
 master than my last was." 
 
 " That will depend entirely upon youi self. Who was 
 your master ? " 
 
 " John Roots." 
 
 " The carpenter of Wych-street ?" 
 
 " That's him." 
 
 " I know him," said Wild, " and so ,'ou were his 
 apprentice ?" 
 
 " I was, but 1 was forced to run away, a^.d then I met 
 my father's old friend, who told me he would bring me to 
 you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Oh ! A-hem ! Have you seen much of the world, 
 Jaek?" 
 
 " There are many who have seen more." 
 
 " Of course. But has your experience showed you that 
 the world is divided into two portions ?" 
 
 " Rather !" said Jack. " Rich and poor." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 " Is that wrong, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 Jonathan looked at him contemptuously. 
 
 " You're a babby ! " he said, " a green sucking babby ! " 
 
 This was touching Jack upon a vulnerable spot. 
 
 He jumped up off his chair. 
 
 It was his ambition — his vanity — to be thought a man. 
 
 Such is generally the case with young men of a boyrh 
 aspect, as Jack was. 
 
 " Ya — ah!" said Jonathan, whose eholer began to rise. 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Sit dowu, Jack," said Blueskin. " It's all right. 
 Don't be a fool. You made a little mistake, that's all. 
 You didn't understand Mr. Wild. Sit down again, and he 
 will explain." 
 
 Thus persuaded, Jack resumed his seat. 
 
 " I thought you hadn't cut your wisdom teeth yet ! " 
 continued Jonathan, " but you are a lad of spirit, I can 
 see." 
 
 " You make no mistake there, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Hold your row, Blue, and let me talk to Jack here. 
 Well, as I said, the world is divided into two unequal 
 portions — those who rob, and those who are robbed." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " It is quite evident you must be one or the other, but 
 it appears to me you have not had the privilege of making 
 your choice." 
 
 "That's just it, Mr. Wild," said Jack, with the least 
 tinge of sadness in his words. " They won't believe I am 
 honest." 
 
 " Of course not ; so the best thing you can do is to 
 make them right. You will never be forgiven if yon 
 don't." 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 " Now," pursued Wild, who was certainly either in r 
 most temperate mood that afternoon, or else, with that 
 keen, eye of his, had seen the value such an adherent as 
 Jack would be to him, "you have only this to do— act 
 square." 
 " In what, Mr. Wild r " 
 
 " Business, of course If you get anything bring it t% 
 me, and I will buy it jf you at a fair price, but if yoi? 
 attempt to set up in business on your own accouRt, bj 
 taking your goods elsewhere, look out for your neck*
 
 JI.UESKIX : A. ROMAWCfc. 
 
 19 
 
 that's all. But, while you keep in wiih me, I'll promise 
 you to get you out of all trouble. Dp ou understand ? " 
 
 " I think I do, Mr. Wild," sai 1 lack, bluntly. " You 
 must get all you can, bring me th ~" : *, I'll pay you frr 
 it, ana you shan't have anything to ."ear for the " 
 
 Jack maclo an expressive gesture with his hand and his 
 neck. 
 
 "That's it, Jack," interrupted Blueskin. "That's it. 
 It don't take you lcig to see through a ladder. Ah ! 
 you'll turn out a great man one of these days ! Fill up 
 your glass, if you please, Mr. Wild, and drink to the health 
 of Jack Sheppard ! " 
 
 " Ya — ah ! Shan't ! Hold your row ! Mind yc'J v -own 
 business ! " 
 
 Then, turning to Jack, he said — 
 
 " You understand ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " Be off, then, and be hanged to you both ! * 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 JACK GETS AN INKLING OF A NICE LITTLE PLOT, WHICH 
 HE DETERMINES TO FRUSTRATE. 
 
 Upon receipt of this gentle intimation that the interview 
 was over, our friends withdrew. 
 
 They paused at the street door. 
 
 " What am 1 to do next ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Anything you like until twelve to-night, and then I 
 will meet you at the ' Black Lion.' I intend to crack a 
 crib to-night, and for you to go with me, just to get your 
 hand in, you know." 
 
 " What time is it now ? " 
 
 " Five minutes to six." 
 
 " I have, then, six hours to do what I please ? " 
 
 " Just so. Six hours and five minutes. Take care of 
 yourself, and mind you are there at the time." 
 
 " Trust me for that. But ain't Wild a rum bloke ? " 
 
 " He is," said Blueskin, with a smile. " But I wouldn't 
 advise you to let him hear you say it." 
 
 " No, no. Open the door. I'll be off." 
 
 " Away with you. Recollect the ' Black Lion ' at 
 twelve ! 
 
 The door of Jonathan Wild's house was banged after 
 Lira. 
 
 Jack ran down the steps into Newgate-street. 
 
 There he paused. 
 
 " What am I to do now ? " he asked. " Walk about, I 
 suppose. I wonder what they call this ? Is it destiny, I 
 wonder ? Only just think what extraordinary things have 
 happened since I left old Roots yesterday ! Ah ! well, 
 as Jonathan said, I was born to prey upon society, so 
 what's the good of trying to contend against fate, eh? " 
 
 All notions of right and wrong were not yet extinct in 
 Jack's breast, and so he called sophistry to aid him to 
 persevere in the course he had marked out. 
 
 Although the hour was an early one, yet it was growing 
 quite dark. 
 
 Indeed, that evening it was dusk at least an hour before 
 its usual time, for the sky was completely covered with 
 thick black clouds. 
 
 It seemed to promise to be a favourable night for the 
 business in which Jack was to be engaged. 
 
 He was rather at a loss, however, to know how to pass 
 the time until the hour of his appointment. 
 
 He sauntered slowly down Snow-hill, and so on into 
 Holborn, t^^n a. "">ry different thoroughfare to what it is 
 now. 
 
 When night came it was very badly illuminated indeed, 
 since all the light there was proceeded from flickering oil 
 lamps, suspended for the most part on ropes, which 
 stretched from one side of the street to the other. 
 
 When Jack reached Middle-row he turned into a small 
 public -house. He thought to wait there would be prefer- 
 able to idling about the streets. 
 
 But one person was in the taproom when he entered- 
 
 His age might have been guessed at forty. 
 
 His attire was rich, but very plain. 
 
 The sword, too, which he had unbuckled from his side, 
 and laid upon the table before him, was beaatifully 
 fashioned, and such a3 was worn only by gentlemen of 
 distinction. 
 Jack noted this before he took his seat. 
 He called then for refreshment, and, as he sat Te, f 
 m»re leisurely examined the appearance of this gentle- { 
 
 man, who, when Jack entered, had just glanced upnt him 
 and no more. 
 
 An indefinable curiosity to know who h? was took pos"- 
 session of Jack Sheppard, who was naturaJy of an inqui- 
 sitive disposition. 
 
 Yet why he felt an interest in this stranger he could 
 not tell, unless it was that his mind just then required 
 some occupation. 
 
 " 1 should like to know who he is," he thougnt, " and 
 what brings him here, and I will, too. I'll find it out. 
 It will just be something to do until twelve o'clock. 
 There is something going on, I know, or the likes of him 
 would not be in a place of this sort. I'll keep my eye 
 upon him." 
 
 And so he did. 
 
 Not to all appearance, though, for ho feigned to be 
 gazing listlessly at the wall before him. 
 
 But Jack's sight was keen. 
 
 Not the slightest movement of the stranger was un- 
 noted by him. 
 
 He saw, too, that his face was far from being a pleasing 
 one. 
 
 There was a restless movement about the eyes that 
 betokened suspicion and distrust, perhaps even treachery. 
 
 His form was rather inclined to corpulency. His face 
 was full, and his cheeks puffy. 
 
 In accordance with the fashion of the time, he wore 
 upon his head a peruke. 
 
 Near his hand was a bottle of wine, to which he paid 
 frequent attention. 
 
 Presently he rose, and walked with a hurried step up 
 and down the room. 
 
 At length he paused before the window, and looked 
 out. 
 
 Jack felt more and more convinced that something was 
 going on, and though certainly it was no business of his, 
 yet he determined to find out all about it. 
 
 The stranger stood at the window for about twenty 
 seconds. 
 
 Then, with a gesture of impatience, he turned away, 
 and sat down again. 
 
 He played nervously with the trappings of his sword, 
 and his lips moved rapidly. 
 
 But what he said Jack could not tell. 
 
 Then, from some under portion of his apparel, he pro- 
 duced a watch, so thickly studded with diamonds that it 
 actually seemed to emit little rays of light. 
 
 This gave, Jack's thoughts a new turn. 
 
 " I should" just like to know," he thought, " what old 
 Jonathan would give for a thing of that sort ? I've half a 
 mind to take it and try, and I will, too ! " 
 
 That was rather a difficult thing to determine upon, 
 for, after just glancing at the dial, the stranger hastily put 
 it back in an inner pocket, and drew his waistcoat over 
 it, which then were made almost as long as the coats 
 themselves. 
 
 With an indifference, which was most assuredly affected, 
 the stranger leaned his back against the waill, and closed 
 his eyes. 
 
 But his hands still played restlessly with the sword 
 hilt. 
 
 "Now, I would bet anyone a guinea," said Jack, men- 
 tally, ' "' that he has got an appointment here with some 
 one, and either he is here too early, or his friend is behind 
 his time." 
 
 Scarcely had Jack made this reflection than he heard 
 a hasty footstep in the passage without. 
 
 The next moment the door opened, and a man hurried 
 into the room. 
 
 It was plain enough to be seen that his rank in life 
 was much lower than the stranger's, for, though he had 
 the air of a confidant, yet his demeanour was respectful 
 in the extreme. 
 
 He removed his hat, nor did he venture to sit down 
 until the other waved his hand for him to do so. 
 
 Jack strained his hearing to the utmost; bnt what the 
 newcomer had to say was uttered inselowa tone that 
 nothing more than a humming, murmuring sound made 
 its way to where Jack was. 
 
 Then he observed that anxious and suspicious glances 
 were cast upon him. 
 
 He was a bar to their conversation. 
 
 But Jack did not mind that. 
 
 Suddenly, however, the BtranjjcT banged the bottom a*
 
 20 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 the bottle, from which he had been drinking, on to the 
 table. 
 
 A girl appeared in answer to the summons. 
 
 "Where is your master?" asked the stranger, in an 
 imperious voice. 
 
 This waa the first time Jack had heard him speak, and 
 ho paid particular attention to the intonation. 
 
 There was something so peculiar about it that he felt 
 sure, let him hear it under what circumstances he might, 
 he should be sure to recognize it. 
 
 " He is in the bar, sir," said the girl timidly, for the 
 way in which he had spoken had awed her. 
 
 " Tell him to come hither, then ; 1 want him ! " 
 
 " How uncommon polite he is in his manner of speak- 
 ing, to be sure," muttered Jack. 
 
 The landlord of the public-house entered hastily, wiping 
 his hands upon his aprou. 
 
 " You sent for me, sir, I believe," he said. " What is 
 it you require?" 
 
 "A private room, if there is such a thing to he had in 
 the house. I will pay you for it." 
 
 " Of course, sir— of course ! I am sorry, sir, but the 
 only private room we have " 
 
 " Is engaged, I suppose," said the stranger, rising. 
 
 " No, sir — oh ! no, sir, I was not going to say engaged, 
 but it is upstairs, sir, if you please, if that will be no 
 objection ! 
 
 " None in the least — none in the least. All the better." 
 
 *' Very good, sir, would you please to step this way. 
 It's the room just over this one, sir, and we use it to sit 
 in ourselves." 
 
 The landlord, who was inclined to be rather morigerous, 
 preceded his guests out of the tap-room. 
 
 Jack listened to their receding footsteps along the 
 passage, and then heard them ascend the stairs. 
 
 " Confound them all. What do they mean by baulking 
 me in that fashion. But I'll be even with them, I'll bet. 
 I don't know how it is, but I feel uncommonly desirous of 
 knowing what it is they have got to say to each other. 
 Some rascality, evidently, or they would not be so afrai'd 
 of being overheard." 
 
 Jack emptied his glass and looked up at the grimy 
 ceiling. 
 
 " The room just over this, is it ? How in the world, 
 now am I to hear what they say ? I must make haste if 
 I am to do it, or they will be done. 1 can't hear where I 
 am, that's quite clear, and as for going up-stairs, why that 
 might be awkward ; besides I don't know where they are. 
 Ha! there's some one coming down. I'll listen." 
 
 Jack jumped up and ran to the door. 
 
 " Oh ! it's the landlord, I suppose, coming down again. 
 Why the stairs must be just on the other side of tbe 
 passage, surely." 
 
 In another moment Jack heard the landlord reach the 
 Boor. 
 
 Then a door closed. 
 
 " I'll do it," said Jack. " I'll do it, and risk the 
 consequences. They had bfetter not interfere with me, 
 that's all." 
 
 He projected his head a little way into the passage. 
 
 An oil-lamp, which burnt in that dim fashion incidental 
 to all oil-lamps, so far from lighting up the place, only 
 confused it with the numerous shadows which it cast. 
 
 Jack looked both up and down the passage. 
 
 No one was visible. 
 
 His hearing had not deluded him. There, on the oppo- 
 site side to where he stood, and a few feet lower down, was 
 the staircase. 
 
 " There's nobody abou*-. said Jack, " no one at all : so 
 here goes." 
 
 He crossed the passage and sprang up the staircase like 
 a ghcs* 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD ENDANGERS HIS LIFE THROUGH WED- 
 OLING WITH MATTERS THAT DON'T CONCERN HIM. 
 
 It was most certainly very daring of Jack to run up the 
 •tairs in that manner, but he did not pause to reflect 
 that he was going the right way to get his head into 
 trouble. 
 
 Up he went. 
 
 The stairs were dark and steep, but without once stum- 
 >ling he gained the top. 
 
 He was rather perplexed then what to do. 
 
 He could positively see nothing, for the staircase had no 
 windows. 
 
 There was only one thing to be done. 
 
 Placing his hand against tha wall, and feeling his way 
 along it, Jack crept forward. 
 
 When he had proceeded in this manner about half, 
 a-dozen steps a fresh and apparently insuperable difficulty 
 arose. 
 
 He could hear some one coming upstairs. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 Advance he dared uot, since he had no idea what was 
 before him. 
 
 There appear d to be no hiding place. 
 
 Jack was nonplussed. 
 
 Before he could recover from his bewilderment suffi- 
 ciently to think a little, whoever it was that was coming 
 had got almost to the top of the stairs. 
 
 Then Jack saw the reflection of a light. 
 
 Then the jingling of glasses. 
 
 " Oh ! hang it all, what shall I do ? " he said. " Its 
 the landlord, I know, bringing them something to drink, 
 and a candle ! It's all up with this job, for he'll see me, 
 of course. It's aggravating not to be able to do what you 
 make up your mind to, but it can't be helped. Eh ! yes it 
 can ! dear me ! stop now ! " 
 
 These incoherent sentencej meant that as he put his 
 hand against the wall he felt a door. 
 
 His first impulse was to turn the handle, but he im- 
 mediately saw how impolitic such a proceeding would be, 
 so he paused. 
 
 Likely enough it was the door of the very room in 
 which the two visitors were, and if so, the act of opening it 
 would be to insure immediate discovery. 
 
 But there was no time to be lost. 
 
 He listened at the door. 
 
 Not the faintest murmur reached his ears. 
 
 " They cannot be in here, surely," he said, " or else I 
 should hear voices. There is nothing else to be done. 
 I'll chance it ! " 
 
 Jack turned the knob, and found the door open to his 
 hand. 
 
 All was darkness within. 
 
 " Here goes," he muttered. " I must chance it now ! " 
 
 So saying, he slipped inside the room, and closed the 
 door silently. 
 
 He heawl the landlord in the passage. 
 
 To his surprise, too, he could hear quite plainly the 
 murmuring of voices. 
 
 Still he did not venture to stir. He waited until his 
 eyes had become familiar with the darkness. 
 
 The landlord passed the door of the room in which he 
 had so opportunely taken refuge. 
 
 But he heard him open another, very close indeed 
 to it. 
 
 At the same moment he heard a voice, which he identi- 
 fied as the first stranger's, say — 
 
 " Now, landlord, quick ! You have been a long time 
 gone ; I don't like to be left in the dark." 
 
 Jack was not a little astonished at the plainness where- 
 with he heard what was said. He could scarcely be- 
 lieve that he was not in the same room with the 
 speakers. 
 
 And then he noticed, as he turned his face in the di- 
 rection whence the sounds came, that a few rays of light 
 found their way in, and to some slight extent assisted him 
 to define sevoral objects. 
 
 "It's a partition," said Jack, to himself. "Bravo! 
 Fate is in favour of me, clearly. I shall, without the 
 least trouble in the world, hear every word they say with- 
 out any one being a bit the wiser ; that is," he added, 
 " if no one oomes in here bothering." 
 
 " That will do, that will do," Jack heard the stranger 
 say impatiently. " You can leave us now- and mind that 
 we are not disturbed." 
 
 " Yes, sir, I'll take care of that, sir ! it you should 
 want anything you will find a hand-bell on the tray." 
 
 Jack heard the door close, and the landlord, after tra- 
 versing the passage, descend the stairs. 
 
 Feeling then a little more secure, h* adventured with 
 most cautious footsteps to draw yet nearer to the screec 
 or partition that divided the two rooms the one from the 
 other. 
 
 To do this the utmost caution was necessu-r.
 
 BT.UESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 *1 
 
 Should he by any accident come in contact with any 
 one of the many articles of furniture there might be in 
 the room, a sound would be produced. 
 
 The result of that sound would be his discovery. 
 
 Therefore Jack, with a tread as silent as a cat's, mn^.e 
 his way slowly forward. 
 
 The mode in which he did so was strange. 
 
 He crouched down and held out his arms as far as pos- 
 sible in advance of him. 
 
 Then, little by little, he crawled across the room. 
 
 A carpet was laid upon the floor, and this was wonder- 
 fully in his favour. 
 
 But the apartment w is of no very great extent, so 
 that, although his rate of progressiou was slow, yet it 
 took but a few seconds for him to reach the partition. 
 
 We have said that there were several crovices in this 
 partition, and that through them a few straggling beams 
 of light found their way. 
 
 They stretched in long pencils across the floor. 
 
 Seeing this, Jack thought there was, if he drew nearer, 
 a chance of his not only being an auditor of the inter- 
 view between the two guests, but a spectator also. 
 
 In this anticipation he was disappointed. 
 
 The chinks were not wide enough for him to see 
 through. 
 
 He must, therefore, be content with hearing what was 
 going to take place. 
 
 In order to do this most conveniently he seated him- 
 self on the floor, as close to the screen as he dared, with- 
 out risking discovery. 
 
 It would seem in the short space of time which ensued 
 after the landlord closed the door, and while Jack acted 
 and reflected as we have recorded, that the occupants of 
 the private room did no more than pour out and drink 
 some portion of the wine which had been brought them. 
 Certainly no word was uttered by either of them. 
 
 As secrecy appeared so important a desideratum in 
 their conference, it is probable enough they were silent 
 for this brief period in order to make sure that the land- 
 lord actually passed down the passage and descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 Jack waited now very anxiously for them to sper>k. 
 
 He was not long kept, in suspense. 
 
 A chair was moved uneasily upon the floor. 
 
 Then the first stranger spoke. Jack knew it was him 
 for there was something so uncommon in his intonation 
 that, once heard, it would ever afterwards be recognized. 
 
 " And so, Steggs, you are quite sure you are right — 
 made no mistake — eh ? " 
 
 " None at all, your lordship. I have been camful in the 
 extreme." 
 
 " That is well ! " H 
 
 " I am glad," said the man who had been called by the 
 rather peculiar name of Steggs, " I am glad that your 
 lordship thinks that what I have done is well." 
 
 The tones were fawning and servile in the extreme. 
 
 No great amount of penetration was required to see in 
 what position he stood with he whom he had called " your 
 lordship." 
 
 " Well now, as there is no time to lose, Steggs, and as 
 we are entirely free from the fear of being overheard, 
 state as simply as you can, what you have discovered and 
 jone, so that an ultimate plan of operations may be 
 resolved upon." 
 
 " I will, your lordship. In obedience to your commands, 
 I set out this morning to make inquiries relative to the 
 truth of the statement that had been made to your lord- 
 ship, that your brother's daughter, whom all thought 
 dead, was alive." 
 
 " 1 es — yes. I know all that. Go on — go on." 
 
 " I am going on, your lordship ; only I understood that 
 I was to mention the whole of the particulars ; but that is 
 a little error on my part which I must intreat your lord- 
 ship to forget." 
 
 " Never mind — never mind. Proceed." 
 
 " I went to Prince's-street, Little Turnstile, as you 
 directed. It is a most horrible place, my lord. Faugh ! 
 it makes me quite sick to think about it." 
 
 There was a jingling of glasses for a moment as though 
 Mr. Steggs was so overcome that he was compelled to 
 have recourse to the wine. 
 
 " It was to No. 16 I went. It is a miserable, ruinous 
 tenement, but a large one ; and in the occupation of many 
 parsons." 
 
 " Yes- — yes." 
 
 " I will pass over the difficulties I had in ascertaining, 
 without asking the direct question, what portion of the 
 house Mrs. Roblet occupied, but briefly say it was a large 
 room on the top floor." 
 
 " So far, then, the statement was corroborated." 
 
 " Yes, my lord, and even much further. You were told 
 Mrs. Roblet gained a livelihood by making shrouds, and 
 such I found actually the case." 
 
 " Yes. And did you find that — that " — 
 
 " She employed girls to assist her in their manufac- 
 ture P I did, my lord. Sometimes, when trade was good, 
 she had as many as twelve or fourteen ; but now sha 
 employs only one." 
 
 " Ah ! and that one ? " 
 
 " Is a girl who lives somewhere in the purlieus of 
 Drury-lane. She is miserably poor, for work performed 
 by women is rarely well remunerated ; but in spite of her 
 poverty she is clean and neatly dressed, while an air of 
 good breeding pervades her every action, and is quite suf- 
 ficient to show even the most casual observer that there is 
 noble blood in her veins." 
 
 " Indeed — is it so ? " 
 
 " It is, my lord ; and that she is the daughter of your 
 lordship's brother there cannot, I think, be the shadow of 
 a doubt." 
 
 Asudden movement, as though his lordship had started 
 to his feet, made itself heard, and then a hurried striding 
 up and down the room. 
 
 " Confound your caution, Steggs," muttered Jack, 
 " why couldn't you have just said whose daughter she 
 was, eh ? " 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 JACK RESOLVES UPON THE FRUSTRATION OF HIS LORD- 
 SHIP'S DELECTABLE PLOT. 
 
 Jack ShepparT) was completely carried away by the in- 
 tense feeling of interest which the fragmentary conver- 
 sation created in his breast, and he was quite wild to 
 think the man Steggs had been so near letting out the 
 name of this girl's father, and then after all had not done 
 so. 
 
 His lordship paced up and down the room for full 
 five minutes, and then he flung himself into a chair. 
 
 Mr. Steggs was silent. 
 
 He was waiting to be spoken to. 
 
 Jack could hear his own heart go thump, thump, 
 thump, against his breast with most alarming violence. 
 
 He felt afraid it would be heard. 
 
 But that dread was soon overcome, for he heard again 
 his lordship address Mr. Steggs. 
 
 He was evidently greatly agitated. 
 
 " What is to be done, Steggs ? " he said, " what is to 
 done ? Do not be afraid to speak. You know that you 
 and I have no secrets from each other. You tell me that 
 you can entertain no reasonable doubt about what Wil- 
 liams stated on his death-bed being true, namely that 
 the — the little child had been spared by him instead of 
 — well — well — you know." 
 
 " There can be no doubt of its truth, my lord. Every- 
 thing, so far from invalidating his confession, tends only 
 to confirm it. He told you he had disobeyed your orders. 
 That the child, instead of quitting this world, had been 
 placed by him in a family in Charles-street, Drury-lane. 
 That be had watched over her all his life, and that at 
 present she was occupied by an old woman named Roblet 
 as a shroud maker." 
 
 "And you have found all these details correct, you 
 say ? " 
 
 " Every one of them." 
 
 " As you have said, then, there is no room for doubt, 
 what is to be done Steggs, what is to be done ? " 
 
 Again his lordship jumped up from his chair, and 
 paced up and down the room. 
 
 " Something, your lordship, must be done, for, of 
 course, you don't wish all the estates to pass out of your 
 hands into this girl's, as they assuredly would by tha 
 conditions of your brother's will. It was her disappear- 
 ance, mysterious as it was, which shortened his days, and 
 you know the clause which he inserted to be acted upon 
 in the event of her ever being found- What do you 
 think, my lord ? " 
 
 " Think, Steggs ? I asked you i» think. Waal is M
 
 22 
 
 BLUESKIV: A KOMAXe?. 
 
 thut must be done ? that something must be I know full 
 well." 
 
 " K I should advise, my lord, I should say pet rid of 
 her. Put it out of hex power to ever appear and prove 
 her identity." 
 
 "> T o, no, Steggs, I have been bad enough — am bad 
 enough— but I could not deliberately plan the murder of 
 a young and beautiful girl; you said that she was beau- 
 tiful, Steggs, did you not ? " 
 
 " I did, mv lord." 
 
 " I could not do it, Steggs, I could not do it." 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 " Murdei-her ! " 
 
 "Tben," mattered J-ck, between his teeth, "you are 
 not quite BO bad as 1 took you for. and I am glad ot it." 
 
 " Surely your lordship never contemplated such a thing. 
 It would bo hazardous in the extreme. Fools only think 
 of disposing of a person by murder ! A thousand things 
 arise to cause detection. The disappearance of the victim, 
 the insuperable difficulties there are in the way of getting 
 rid of a body when the life has been removed ; all these, 
 my lord, combine to make murder out of the question." 
 
 " I am glad of that, very glad. But how is she to be 
 got rid of r" 
 
 " The modes are numerous. It remains for you to 
 choose whichever you may consider the safest and the 
 best." 
 
 " Speak out, then," said his lordship, resuming his 
 seat. "You are craftier than I am. Speak out: Tell 
 me the one which, in your politic brain, you think most 
 likely to succeed." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. 
 
 The interest with which Jack continued to listen to this 
 conference is indescribable. 
 
 Already be could see that a scheme of deep villany was 
 afloat, of which all that he had heard was but the induc- 
 tion, and his impatience to know what it was the man 
 Steggs would propoce was painful in the extreme. 
 
 lie was at no lo^s to gather from the conversation he 
 bad heard a succinct account of the whole affair. 
 
 The elder brother ot the man who was addressed by 
 Steggs as my lord, had evidently possessed some valuable 
 estates. 
 
 His sole heiress was his daughter, and to her was every- 
 thing bequeathed. 
 
 But his younger brother coveted the estates. 
 
 A child was all that prevented him from having them. 
 
 This child he had caused to be abducted by a man 
 named Williams, to whom he had given instructions to 
 destroy its life. 
 
 But on his deathbed this man confessed the truth, and 
 pointed out where the eirl could be found, as he imagined, 
 to the man Steggs, who had made the younger brother 
 acquainted with his dying statement, and had sided with 
 him to keep the property from its lawful wner. 
 
 This was simply the state of the case. 
 
 But already had Jack determined to frustrate this plan, 
 let it bo what it might. 
 
 Hence his anxiety and impatience to know what Steggs 
 would utter next. 
 
 At last he spoke. 
 
 His voice was low and cold. 
 
 " My lord," lie said, " we will start witt r»v disputable 
 proposition, and that is, that it lies in the power of two 
 persons, acting in concert, to take away with impunity 
 the life a third party." 
 
 "Is this so?*' 
 
 " Assuredly. Well is justice represented blind, since 
 her decrees are as fallible as they well could be." 
 
 " But what is it that is to be done ?" asrain asked his 
 lordship. " Time pass?. What would you do ? ' 
 
 " Make her a felon 1 " 
 
 " A felon P" 
 
 " Yes, a felon." 
 
 " But how can such a thing be done ? " 
 
 " There is no difficulty in finding the means. It can be 
 done, and, my lord, you will be safe." 
 
 " Indeed ! How so ? " 
 
 " Can it be possible your lordshir is unacquainted with 
 die circumstance that by the laws of England a felon — a 
 convicted felon — can never succeed to an inheritance ?" 
 
 "True! I was aware, but bad forgotten it. I see 
 now, Steggs. You would get her convicted— transported 
 _a:.l bronbta d.j mare ia tile mftltar." 
 
 plan 
 
 Rood, 
 
 I trouble there would be to get up 
 would entail conviction, think, in i 
 
 " Precisely so, your lordship. Do you approve of my 
 plan of action P 
 
 " It is a devilish one." 
 
 " Your lordihip flatters me." 
 
 "God forbid! No, no, Steggs ycui- 
 unouestionablv, but it ha3 one fault. J 
 
 "'One fault?" 
 
 ,c Yes ; it is too intricate." 
 
 Steggs wa3 silent. 
 And not only that, too tedious. Setting aside the 
 and sustain a case that 
 the meantime, what a 
 I many chances there might be of : d being discovered. 
 No, no, Steggs, that will not do." 
 
 " I am sorry )Ou think so, your lords-hip. But what is 
 I it you yourself advise ? " 
 
 " Some plan involving promptitude of action — some- 
 thing that can be put into execution and completed in 
 ! half-an-hour." 
 
 " Boldness and rapidity are good qualities in a scheme, 
 but the risk i3 always so much increased." 
 
 " 1 think the risk could scarcely be greater than the 
 one you have proposed. In that there are so many cir- 
 cumstances, and all so dependent upon one another, that, 
 like some long chain by which a prisoner ia descending 
 from a fearful heigh', should one link be imperfect, de- 
 struction would bo inevitable. " 
 
 " You are rigb' the: ray lord, but I think it possible 
 to make every link pcnect. Still, what is it you pro- 
 pose P" 
 
 " Thi3," said his lordship. "You say you know the 
 place where she i3 employed ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " It is close by here, is it not ?" 
 
 " Scarce ten minutes' walk." 
 
 " It wants now just that much of nine. Look here, 
 Steggs. At such an hour as this, it is probable she will 
 be making her way homewards." 
 
 " Quite so, your lordship." 
 
 " Then take me there at once." 
 
 " What would you do ? " 
 
 " Let us both set upon her and bear her off to a place 
 of security. Her ultimate fate will depend upon h i 
 self." 
 
 "Then," said Steggs, "if such is your determination 
 and it is to be carried out to-night, we must leave hen 
 this moment." 
 
 " So much the better. Come, then, lead me to hei 
 work-place. We will wait there for her to come out. W<. 
 can manage between us to stifle her cries, and put hci 
 into a hackney-coach ! " 
 
 " It can be doue," said Steggs. " The Bpot, too, is 
 most favourable, for after dark it is most lonely. As of 
 course you are aware, it is close to Lincoln's Inn-fields, 
 and, to reach her home, she will have to pass down Gate 
 street and Duke-street." 
 
 " Precisely go." 
 
 " That, then, will be the place. It b a thousand 
 chances if any one is in sight or hearing." 
 
 The door was flung open, and the worthy couple 
 descended the stairs, in order to set out on their nefarious 
 errand. 
 
 "Thank roodness ! " said Jack, scrambling to his feet, 
 " I can pu* a stop to that." 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAED MAKES A FRIEND WHO CLINGS TO HIM 
 THROUGH LIEE. 
 
 It was very easy for Jack Sheppard to come to such a 
 determination, but we think he was so much carried away 
 by what he heard, that he did not perceive all the 
 ■ obstacles be would have to overcome. 
 
 His sympathies, as almost every one else's would have 
 been, were strongly enlisted in favcur of the poor shroud- 
 maker, who had such unscrupulous enemies as his 'ord- 
 ship and his man Stegg3. 
 
 But it was very certain no amount of personal peril 
 would deter Jack from making a desperate attempt to 
 rescue the young girl from their hands. 
 
 With this resolve, he hastened to the head of the etairs, 
 and waited. 
 
 Waited until ho thought they had had time eno ^L 14
 
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 3* 
 
 BLVESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 /i Jed him with, had Jack gained a complete victory over 
 two well-armed men, who were each, so far as all appear- 
 ance went, more than r. match for a stripling such as 
 Sheppard was. 
 
 But the contest had disturbed the residents. 
 
 Many windows were now thrown open, while scores of 
 eager tongues inquired what was the matter. 
 
 But for the most part, seeing that it was only a street 
 brawl, and such as often happened two or threo times in a 
 night, they withdrew their heads and slammed the windows 
 after them. 
 
 A rattle was sprung, and the tramp of approaching 
 footsteps sounded clearly on the night air. 
 
 But, not heeding them, Jack turned towards the young 
 girl whom he had so signally befriended. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPAKD COMMIT A BURGLARY AT 
 "THE GRANGE." 
 
 " Fear nothing now ! " he said, for he found she was 
 trembling violently. " The danger has .passed away. 
 It was greater, perhaps, than you have any conception of. 
 All is well now, but, so that you may be secured from 
 another attack, I will accompany you to where you live. 
 First, however, stav where you are a moment, so that 1 
 may see how far your assailants are injured." 
 
 The young girl, after making a great effort, spoke. 
 Her voice trembled very much, but that only had 
 the effect of imparting to its musical accents a new 
 charm. 
 
 "I am much obliged to you, sir," she said, "much 
 obliged. 1 had no idea I bad an enemy in the world. 
 Surely I must have been mistaken for some one else." 
 " Not a bit of it," said Jack. 
 
 " But I will not give you any further trouble, sir, or 
 trespass further on your kindness. Do not, I pray, let me 
 trespass upon you any longer. I feel that already I owe 
 you an obligation which I can never repay." 
 
 " Oh, stuff about repaying ; but if you really do feel 
 grateful for what I have done, stand where you are a 
 moment, while 1 look at your two foes." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack hastened towards the individual 
 whom he I. new only by the name of "your lordship," 
 and the rascal Steggs. 
 
 He rightly enough concluded that the young girl wotti j. 
 not resist the request he had made in such terms. 
 She remained quite still. 
 The springing of rattles increased. 
 In the distance a lantern could be seen flashin." through 
 the gloom. 
 Jack stooped over his prostrate foes. 
 They both lay as immovable as though life were quite 
 extinct. 
 
 " I will astonish Blue and Johnty," muttered Jack. 
 " Blest if I don't. It will only be right to see what his 
 lordship has in his pockets, and I am determined to have 
 that capital-looking watch of his." 
 
 With great dexterity Jack unbuttoned the huge waist- 
 coat which " his lordship" had put on over his ordinary 
 apparel. 
 
 With equal featness he transferred the gold watch 
 and its long thick chain and seals to his own pockets. 
 
 But with the exception of a purse containing a few 
 sovereigns and some silver, that was all in the shape of 
 valuables which his lordship had about him. 
 This disappointed Jack. 
 
 He was in hopes and expectation of finding something 
 about his person that would give a clue to his identity. 
 But nothing of the kind could he find. 
 His lordship had been crafty enough to remove every- 
 thing that might tend to show who he was. 
 
 So Jack, to his chagrin, was compelled to go without 
 knowing who the young girl's uncle was. 
 
 The discovery of his name would he knew he all im- 
 portant. 
 
 But when he had thoroughly searched all his pockets, 
 and was assured that what ho sought was not to be found, 
 Jack consoled himself with the reflection, that in a 
 few hours, an account of the assault would be made 
 public. 
 
 As for Steggs ; he disdained to trouble any further with 
 him. 
 
 There was but little likelihood of his finding anything 
 in his pockets worth the trouble of taking. 
 
 He hastened, therefore, to the spot where he had left 
 the young girl he had rescued. 
 
 But at the same moment that he reached her side a 
 watchman reached it also. 
 
 He was flourishing his lanter . and rattle in a maniacal 
 fashion. 
 
 He had come from the dire ,tion of Queen-street. 
 Other watchmen were hu. rying to the scene from Hol- 
 born way. 
 
 With great rapidity Jack reasoned in this wise. 
 If he chose to go down Queen-street there would be 
 no one to oppose him, provided the watchman vho had just 
 come from there was put out of the way. 
 
 It was, too, just the route he wished to take. 
 To the great astonishment of the watchman Jack 
 dodged behind the girl, and hit him a tremendous blow on 
 the ear. 
 
 So effective was it, that, without uttering a sound, the 
 watchman measured his full length upon the stones. 
 
 " That will complicate matters, I rather think," said 
 Jack. 
 
 Then, taking the young girl by the hand, he added, 
 hurriedly — 
 
 " Now, my dear, if ever you ran before, run now, for 
 your life depends upon your getting away from here at 
 once ! Come along ! " 
 
 So saying he set off at great speed. 
 The young girl, however, who to the full comprehended 
 what he had 6aid to her, kept up with him admirably. 
 
 Bound the corner, along Queen-street, past Great Wild- 
 street, and into Drury-lane, they sped like the wind. 
 
 Just opposite the top of Long-acre they paused for 
 breath. 
 They listened. 
 
 But no sounds from pursuing footsteps came to their 
 ears. 
 
 " I think we have done them," said Jack, triumphantly, 
 for altogether he felt not a little proud of his night's 
 work ; " so now miss, if you will tell me where you live 
 I will see you safely indoors." 
 His companion tried to speak. 
 But she could not. 
 
 She burst into a passionate flood of tears. 
 She sobbed, too, as though her heart would break. 
 Jack was alarmed. 
 
 Every ono of those manifestations of distress went 
 through hi heart like a. sword. 
 
 " Comf., come, miss," he said, " don't cry in that way. 
 There's nothing to be afraid of now, I can assure you. 
 Cheer up, cheer up, do, and tell me where I am to take 
 you." 
 
 Making a violent effort, the young girl checked her 
 tears, and spoke to him. 
 " Nowhere," she said. 
 That was all. 
 
 Then she wept again, with even greater bitterness thaa 
 before. 
 
 " Nowhere ?" repeated Jack, in tones of great surprise, 
 " nowhere ? How is that ? I thought you lived in 
 Charles-street." 
 The girl wept more and more. 
 " Such is the case," she said. " At least I did live 
 
 there hut," she added, interrupting herself suddenly, 
 
 " how came you to know where I lived P I never saw you 
 in my life before." 
 
 " I know that, but never mind just at present how I 
 gained that information. Is, it possible you live there no 
 longer ? " . 
 
 " Alas ! yes. My mother, who was the only relative I 
 had in the world, is dead. She died the day before yes- 
 terday, and was buried to-day. We— we owed the people 
 money for — rent, you understand, and as — as I couldn't 
 
 pay it " 
 
 Her t?a*» end sobs would suffer her to say no more. 
 " They tr.rned you out into the street, eh ?" said Jack. 
 " Just like people— just like 'ere ' T ~ys served just the 
 same — exactly." 
 
 "You were. 1 "" said the young girl, feeling a fresh 
 interest in her companion ; " how sfrange ! " 
 " Rather, but what were you going to do when you were 
 
 "I cannot tell you, for i do not know. I had jurt
 
 BLOESKIV: A ROMANCE. 
 
 25 
 
 BLUESK1N ATTACKED BY THE MASTIFF AT <C THE GRANGE."] 
 
 come from Mrs. Roblet's, and she cannot pay me the 
 money for the work I have done." 
 
 "That's awkward ; but it appears to me I am in a posi- 
 tion to do you iurther service still. I have no home of 
 my own, but I have a friend, who for my sake will, I am 
 sure, be glad to take charge of you." 
 
 "Oh! indeed— indeed ! " said the young girl, "I can- 
 not consent to place myself under any further obligations 
 to you. You have already done too much." 
 
 " Too much ? How can that be ? " 
 
 " More than I can repay ! " 
 
 " Oh ! nonsense. I told you before never to mind about 
 repayment. 1 would not accept anything more from you 
 thau a kind word, if you possessed all the wealth in the 
 world. 
 
 " 1 am glad of that," said the sLroudmaker, earnestly, 
 " not only because I like to hear you say so, but because 
 I am iu a position to repay you." 
 
 , " Very well, then. Now come with me. Believe me, 
 ti is most important for your owu interests to do so. I 
 
 have something to tell you that will fill you with amaze- 
 ment ! " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " The motive which prompted those two men to make 
 the attack they did upon you." 
 
 " Can you give it ? " 
 
 " Most certainly." 
 
 " And is it true that I am really the person that was 
 marked out for it ? Are you sure there was no mistake ?" 
 
 " I am. Quite sure." 
 
 " I should scarcely think it cou/'d be me ! I know no 
 one, and cannot conceive a reason for it. I feel •oufident 
 they have made a mistake in the person." 
 
 "Well, if you are a young girl living in Charles-street?" 
 
 " Yes — yes !" 
 
 "A shroudmakcr, aud working for Mrs. Roblet, of 16, 
 Princes-street, Lincoln's Inn-fields." 
 
 "lam— I do!" 
 
 " Then there is no mistake at all about it. It would ' 
 take too loner to tell vou what J know while standing iu 
 
 No. 4. 
 GRATIS with this Number, The COLOURED PICTURE of JONATHAN WILD 
 KILLS COLONEL THORNE, AOT CAPTURES EDGWORTH BESS.
 
 BLTJESKXH: A SOMANCB. 
 
 V 
 
 the street ; besides, it would be unsafe to do so, for hark ! 
 I can quite plainly hear people in pursuit ! " 
 
 The sounds filled the poor girl with terror, and already 
 looking up to Jack as being ablo to defend her from all 
 harm, she clung tightly to him for protection. 
 
 " Save me — ob ! save me ! " she said- " What will 
 become of us; I am terrified to death." 
 
 " There is no occasion to be alarmed," said Jack, coolly. 
 " Just you do as I want you, and then we shall be right 
 enough. Will you trust to me ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes — oh ! yes. You have saved me once." 
 
 " I have, and will a thousand times, if it be necessary. 
 But come, this is the way." 
 
 Again taking the hand of the shroudmaker in his, Jack 
 ran with ber down Drury-lane as far as the "Black 
 Lion." 
 
 He paused for a moment on tbe threshold of the inn, 
 and looked behind him. 
 
 His pursuers were neither in sight nor hearing. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " he said, " we have done them. I told you 
 we should, my dear. They have evidently either turned 
 np the wrong part of Drury-laue, or else down Long-acre. 
 Come in here along with me. You will be welcome, and 
 what is more, quite safe." 
 
 " I will trust myself into your bands," said the girl, 
 Bolemnly, " and God forgive me if I act wrong." 
 
 " And," said Jack, " may God forget me if I do not shield 
 you from all harm ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. * 
 
 APPEARS TO POINT TO THE FACT THAT BLUESKIN IS NOT 
 EXACTLY WHAT HE SEEMS — A MYSTERY. 
 
 Uproarious shouts and other signs of boisterous merri- 
 ment issued as usual from the old public-house, and when 
 a louder chorus of bacchantic laughter rose, the girl Jack 
 had taken under his guardianship again clung half-terrified 
 to his arm. 
 
 She was, in fact, in a high state of nervous excitation, 
 which such events and startling incidents as had happened 
 to her within the last half-hour could scarcely fail to pro- 
 duce in a delicate and sensitive organization. 
 
 But, again assuring ber that she was in a place of perfect 
 safety, and had nothing whatever to fear, Jack drew her 
 along the passage, and into the bar. 
 
 " Johnson ! Johnson ! " he cried, in a loud voice, upon 
 finding the place was empty, " Johnson, my boy ! This 
 way, I want you." 
 
 With wonder very visibly portrayed upon bis counte- 
 nance, the landlord appeared in answer to the summons. 
 
 The girl had sunk half-fainting on a seat. 
 
 " Fetch the missus," cried Sheppard, " and ask her to 
 look after this poor thing. I ask it of you in the name 
 of Joseph Blake ! " 
 
 " What's that you are asking in my name ? " said a 
 voice at this juncture, and which Jack immediately recog- 
 nised as that of Blueskin. " What is it, eh ? " 
 
 As ho asked this question, Joe Blake, who bad heard 
 Jack utter his name while he stood in the passage, pushed 
 open the half-door that led into the bar, a nd entered. 
 
 He gave vent to a whistle as soon as he saw the girl. 
 
 " Hullo, Jack. This won't do, you know. Up to your 
 tricks already. Well, I shouldn't have thought it. Who 
 is she ? What does she want ? " 
 
 But Jack replied in a serious voice — 
 
 " Don't ask me any questions just now, but render me 
 the favour I desire. It is simply that Johnson's wife 
 should attend to this poor young thing, who ia half faint- 
 ing with fright. I will tell you all mat iiias happened as 
 soon as I get a chance." 
 
 " Oh ! all right. Here is Mrs. Johnson herself, and she 
 will see to her, I know. Won't you, now ? " 
 
 " To be sure I will, seeing it's a friend of yours, Mr. 
 Blake. Here, my dear," she added, addressing the girl, 
 "rouse yourself; you vail soon be bcUer." 
 
 " Treat ber with the greatest care, iVirs. Johnsoc," said 
 Jack. " I am going now. You will have your reward 
 for succouriug her one day ; for she is a real lady." 
 
 A smile appeared on the face of the landlady as Jack 
 made this assertion, which was by no mean:! borne out by 
 tbe girl's attire. 
 
 as she luoiit-d upon the pale, suffering, and beautiful face, 
 and at once set about recovering her. 
 
 Blueskin bad accompanied Jack from the bar, and 
 the pair made their way into tbe kitchen, when they sat 
 down. 
 The place was tolerably full of people. 
 To all of them Blueskin appeared to be well known and 
 a favourite, for a universal shout of welcome came from 
 the lips of all present. 
 
 But as soon as they could, both avoided tbe notice of the 
 company. 
 
 " It wants half an hour of the time when I propose we 
 shall start," said Blueskin, looking up at the dingy face of 
 a Dutch clock which hung opposite to the fire-place. 
 " You are before your time." 
 
 " I am, but I thought I migbt as well come on here, 
 and better. But now tell me the meaning of your bring- 
 ing that girl here ? What happened after you left 
 me?" 
 
 In reply to this question Jack went into a very elabo- 
 rate statement of how he bad entered the public-house in 
 Middle-row, Holborn, and what bad ensued thereupon. 
 
 To the whole of the extraordinary narrative did Blue- 
 ■kin listen with the most wrapt attention. Not a word 
 escaped him, and he fairly puzzled Jack with the number 
 of seemingly aimless questions which he asked him. 
 
 On the whole, Jack was enabled to give pretty satisfac- 
 tory replies. 
 
 Most particularly did Blueskin ask if be — Jack — was 
 sure there was nothing about the individual who had been 
 named as his lordship that would afford a clue to his 
 identification. 
 
 Jack replied in tbe negative, but produced the watch 
 which be bad taken. 
 
 Blueskin was much surprised at its magnificence. 
 " Why this is worth a little fortune," he said ; " now 
 I think we shall be able to find out what we want to 
 know." 
 
 " How so ? " said Jack, looking also at the watch ; " I 
 can see nothing on the seals." 
 " That's nothing to do with it." 
 " How, then, will you find out ? " 
 
 " By taking the watch in the morning to Jonathan. He 
 will come down pretty handsomely for it, I dare say." 
 
 " But I don't see how that will tell us. Surely Jona- 
 than cannot tell the owner of every watch that is brought 
 to him ? " 
 
 " Well, not exactly ; but it will be done in this way. 
 You may, I think, rest pretty well assured that bis lord- 
 ship won't be willing to lose his watch without making an 
 effort to regain it, and the chances are that he will apply 
 to Wild." 
 
 " I see now, of course." 
 
 " Jonathan having the watch in his possession, will be 
 able to treat for its restoration in bis usual fashion ; and 
 so you see when 'bis lordship' comes to Little Newgate, j 
 we shall be able to learn who be is." 
 " So we shall." 
 
 " I am determined to use every effort to find out who 
 this girl actually is, and if possible restore ber to her 
 proper position. I have already something more than a 
 suspicion of her name and title." 
 
 It was now Jack's turn to be interested. 
 " The deuce you have ! Tell me, tell me at once ! " 
 "No." 
 "No?" 
 
 " Ask me for no reasons," said Blueskin, rising, and 
 apparently in some agitation. " I cannot give them. 
 Besides, it is time we started." 
 
 So saying, he left the kitchen, leaving Jack to follow 
 his example, which the reader may rest assured be was by 
 no means slow in doing. 
 
 The sudden alteration in the behaviour of his friend was 
 mysterious in the extreme. 
 
 " There's something more I have got to find out," said 
 Jack to himself, " and I'll do it, too ! " 
 
 " Now, Jack," he heard Blueskin, " are you coming ? " 
 '' in a minute," was tbe reply, and Sheppard ran 
 hastily to the bar. 
 
 Ho was in hopes of seeing either Mrs. Johnso" or his 
 protege there, but in this he was disappointed. 
 
 Nor was there even tbe landlord himself of whom be 
 
 It was tasteful and neat, but very, very poor. 
 
 But Jack made Lis exit as soon as be had spoken : and could make an inquiry 
 as Mrs. Johnson )iad a kind heart, she felt much affected [ Fain would be before starting upon his expedition w ; .U»
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 27 
 
 Blueskin, the dangers of which, of course, he could not 
 estimate ; fain would he, we say, have seen again for a 
 hrief moment the young girl he l>ad rescued, and received 
 an assurance that all was well. £> 
 But he could not gratify this desire. 
 Blueskin was at the door of the inn waiting for him, 
 and Jack feared to anger his new friend by delaying to 
 come at his command. 
 
 He was fearful, too, that he would consider ho was 
 hanging back from his word, and that was a thing Jack 
 could not bear to have ascribed to him for anything. 
 
 Therefore, he sacrificed his inclination and went to the 
 front door. 
 
 It must be understood that, although the street door of 
 the " Black Lion " was always left open, yet there was 
 a half-glazed inner door, the panes in which were pro- 
 tected by a net-work of wire, which swung shut after 
 everyone who came either in or out. 
 
 Just as he pulled open this door, Blueskin again called 
 to him. 
 
 He was standing on the step, and near him was the 
 landlord. 
 
 _ " What a time you have been," he said, " I thought you 
 did not mean coming." 
 
 " I didn't choose to come before," replied Jack, sul- 
 lenly ; " and what business had you to think any such 
 thing ? If I had not given my word no power on earth 
 should make me go with you, but as I have promised 
 I will perform." 
 
 " Bravo, Jack ! " said Blueskin, who was pleased at this 
 manifestation of independency. "Say no more. I was in 
 si hurry, that was all." 
 This apology was sufficient for Jack. 
 " Come along," continued Blueskin j and then, turning 
 towards the landlord, he added — 
 
 " Bear in mind what I have said, Johnson. Treat her 
 with every respect. I have my own particular motives 
 for it." 
 
 " You shall be obeyed, captain," replied Johnson, "rest 
 assured of it. Good night to you ! You will find every- 
 thing for you at Greggs'." 
 
 " All right, Johnson ! Good night. I shall be back by 
 four." 
 " Very good, I shall expect you." 
 " And now, Jack," said Blueskin, "just step out." 
 " Have we far to go ? " 
 Only to Greggs'." 
 " Where's that ? " 
 
 " In Long-acre. We shall get a horse and cart there, 
 and then drive to Kilburn." 
 
 " But tell me what it is 3 r ou know or suspect about the 
 girl," said Jack. " You cannot imagine my anxiety to 
 learn something further. What was the reason you acted 
 as you did when we were in the tap-room ? " 
 Blueskin made no reply. 
 Jack repeated his question. 
 " I have said do not ask me for any reasons." 
 " I know you did, but surely there can be no harm in 
 your telling me what you know?" 
 
 " I say again I cannot do it," said Blueskin, almost 
 fiercely. " If it is as I have good reason to suspect, she is 
 to some extent mixed up with my own fate — my own life, 
 and that I never relate to a soul." 
 " Your life ? " repeated Jack, perfectly amazed. 
 " Yes, mine ! " 
 
 Jack Sheppard felt the curiosity he felt already, in- 
 creased a thousand times. 
 
 " For heaven's sake," ho said, " now you have said so 
 much say more, for 1 am sure I could not bear the sus- 
 pense. Tell me — tell me at once." 
 
 But Blueskin relapsed into a moody sileace, nor could 
 : Jack by any means extort another word from him. 
 i He was aroused, however, from the conflict of his 
 thoughts by Blake coming suddenly to a halt. 
 It was at the corner of King-street, Long-acre. 
 Jack looked up and saw it was a livery stables. 
 Blueskin simply made a sign for Jack to follow him, 
 and then passed under a gateway into a spacious yard, on 
 every side surrounded by numerous buildings. 
 
 Then Jack h°urd Bluesk'u blow a whistle, which had a 
 peculiar sound. fc 
 
 It *?aa instantly responded to by a rattling of wkeelg 
 •ver tb.9 st«u«« vmh whieb. Was vara was pavss. 
 
 But Jack's thoughts were too much occupied to take 
 more than a cursory notice of what was goiDg on; he kept 
 asking himself— Who was the young girl he had saved, 
 and it what way was she connected with Blueskin ? 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 FOLLOWS JONATHAN WTLD UPON ONE OF HIS NIGHT 
 EXCURSIONS, AND RELATES THE DARING DEEDS WHICH 
 HE COMMITTED. 
 
 " A likely young fellow that !" muttered Jonathan Wild, 
 after he had so cavalierly dismissed Jack Sheppard and 
 Blueskin from his presence. "A very likely young fel- 
 low, indeed ! I shall be able to make something of him 
 in time, I daresay, so I shall begin with giving him plenty 
 of encouragement ! That's the way to do it ! " 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, Jonathan took a few 
 whiffs at his pipe, and then pouring out a tumbler full of 
 brandy, he drank considerably more than half of it at a 
 draught. 
 
 The spirit was strong, and it forced the moisture into 
 Wild's eyes, and for a second or two fairly took away his 
 breath. 
 
 " That's better! " ho gasped. " I ought to take some- 
 thing extra before I do what 1 intend to do to-night. 
 It would not do to trust it into any other hands than my 
 own. Just let me see that I have got the particulars all 
 right ! " 
 
 Hereupon, Jonathan picked up that day's newspaper, 
 and, in a low voice, read with great deliberation the fol- 
 lowing extraordinary paragraph, as though he wished to 
 impress every word of it upon his mind. 
 The paragraph ran thus — 
 
 Unparalleled Occurrence. — We are indebted to a corre- 
 spondent for the following particulars of an event we believe 
 to bo without a parallel. It appears that Friday last, tho 7th 
 instant, was fixed for the celebration of the nuptials of H— n— y 
 J— ff— s Esq., of E— n-hall, Tottenham, and J— e M— k— 1, only- 
 daughter of G — e M— k— 1, Esq., of the L— e, Theobald's-park. 
 The union was brought about by love only, and a long and 
 happy life was looked to as being the fortunate lot of tho 
 youthful pair. But, alas ! as if to prove the folly of trusting to 
 the stability of earthly things, an event occurred which has 
 thrown the whole country-side into the deepest gloom. That 
 event was death ! While the bridegroom was in the act of 
 putting the ring on the finger of the bride, in accordance with 
 the terms of the marriage ceremony, he felt the hand of the 
 bride become deattdy cold, and ere'he could scarce note this 
 circumstance, she fell back upon the marble flooring of the 
 church. The utmost consternation of course prevailed, and 
 every means tried to restore the bride to life, but in vain. The 
 vital spark had fled for ever. The effects of this scene upon the 
 bridegroom and the other relatives of the bride can be better 
 imagined than described. But the strangest part of the affair 
 remains yet to be told. It has transpired that for the three 
 nights immediately preceding the wedding, the bride-apparent 
 dreamed that while the ceremony was being performed she fell 
 down dead. That she should dream of the wedding for three 
 nights running was in itself not very remarkable, but that she 
 should dream the samo dream, and that of so strange a kind, 
 was exceedingly so. On the second occasion, while relating 
 her vision, she declared herself firmly of belief that it was 
 prophetic, and that it would happen just as she had dreamed. 
 The third occasion, which was on the night preceding the day 
 of the wedding, she expressed herself still more confirmed in 
 this belief, and requested as a favour, which she asked as a 
 person about to die, that they would inter her in her nuptial 
 garments, not removing a single article from her person. 
 Every endeavour was made to dissipate this gloomy fore- 
 boding, but without result, and her agitation at the refusal of 
 her request rose to such a height that the worst consequences 
 were dreaded, and at last, to calm her, they made the promise 
 which she required. We havo stated already the catastrophe. 
 It turned out that her dream was fulfilled to the very letter. 
 Of course nothing else is talked of for miles around. Tho 
 funeral of the unhappy bride is fixed to take place to-day 
 (Monday) , and it is expected that a large number of people will 
 assemble to witness the obsequies. We understand from the 
 best authority that at the urgent desire of the bridegroom, 
 who is almost crazed under his sudden bereavement, the 
 bride will have her express wishes fulfilled ; that is to say, will 
 be placed in the coffin in her wedding-dress. A tiara of 
 diamonds, which is estimated at being worth two thousand five 
 hundred pounds, and which had been presented to her by her 
 father, will be buried with her, she having obtained a solemn 
 promise that not one article which she wore should be removed. 
 Altogether the affair is quite unprecedented, and caused tho j 
 greatest possible excitement. We shall publish ir ""ur next j 
 impression a full account of the funeral. 
 
 Such was the paragraph which Jonatha' , Wild se ears* i 
 
 * Im Riiabsd rwtag it, ks kl titt Ptfff fc£ M &* •■•*■ j
 
 r -a 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 1 
 
 He smoked on abstractedly for a few moments, being 
 deeply immersed in his reflections. 
 
 Presently his cogitations took consistent and form. 
 
 He uttered three words. 
 
 " Two thousand poundo I " 
 
 Those were the words. 
 
 It was then pretty evident about what Jonathan wns 
 considering. 
 
 He had more than half made up his mind to go to 
 Tottenham. 
 
 The reader can guess his object. 
 
 1 1 was to rob the dead ! 
 
 The diamond tiara Jonathan considered it would be a 
 world of pities to allow to remain upon the brow of a dead 
 person, to whom it could not by any possibility be of ser- 
 vice. He calculated the difficulties there might be to 
 overcome. 
 
 But, as none of them appeared to be insurmountable, 
 he determined to make the attempt. 
 
 To despoil the dead ! 
 
 It was what nine hundred ami ninety-nine people out of 
 a thousand would have shrunk from doing. 
 
 They would have been overcome by the horror of the 
 idea. 
 
 But Jonathan was unquestionably one in a thousand. 
 
 Upon his imbrutalized perceptions the corpse of a 
 human being made no more impression than would any 
 other mass of inert matter. Like Lady Macbeth, he would 
 have said — 
 
 The sleeping and the dead are but ae; pictures. 
 
 He rose to his feet, and put on his hat and wig. 
 
 " Yes," he muttered, buckling on his banger, " I will 
 do it. The diamond tiara shall be mine. What will there 
 be to fear? Nothing, absolutely nothing. While alive, 
 what chance could a delicate girl have with me P None. 
 Then how much less when dead ! That's the way to look 
 at it. I'll have one more nip of brandy, and then start." 
 
 It was in this way Jonathan endeavoured to buoy up 
 his heart ; but, in spite of his philosophy, his hand 
 trembled fearfully as he poured the spirituous liquor from 
 the bottle into the glass. 
 
 " It won't do for me to start while 1 am nervous like 
 this. I shall sit down again, and drink a little more. I 
 can see 1 have not had enough." 
 
 And yet he had drank enough to reduce any ordinarj 
 man to a state of utter helplessness. 
 
 "Let me see," he said. "There is Lord Ingestrie's 
 reward for the necklace; I must manage somehow to 
 make that up to four thousand pounds. Then this tiara 
 added to it will make six thousand pounds ! A glorious 
 sum, and worth something to obtain. No matter how 
 disagreeable, 1 will have it ! " 
 
 Avarice was the mainspring of Jonathan's existence. 
 
 As he contemplated the amount of his prospective gains 
 his nervousness disappeared. 
 
 But it required some little resolution to screw up his 
 courage to undertake the job. 
 
 Again he rose. 
 
 This time he walked straight to the door of his apart- 
 ment, and, passing through it, descended the stairs, and 
 reached the hall. 
 
 A faint groan came to his ears. 
 
 It was poor Tonks uttered it. 
 
 He was still "on the lock," as they called it. 
 
 Jonathan strode forward. 
 
 " Now then ! " he said, " -what the deuce are you 
 groaning in that way for ? Hold your row, will you ? " 
 
 Tonks, at the sound of the thief-taker's voice, stifled 
 the groan that was upon his lips, and made a hideous 
 face instead, for he saw that Jonathan had the cudgel in 
 his grasp. 
 
 " I say hold your row ! " cried Wild. " Why don't you 
 J reply ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Where's Quilt Arnold ? " 
 
 " In the garrison, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "The garrison " was that portion of Jonathan's house 
 which was specially reserved for the accommodation of 
 his band. 
 
 " Go to him, then, and tell him to bring my horse round 
 
 I to the front door; I am going out." 
 <; I will, Mr. Wild," eaid Tonks, Retting up with h 
 ii ,■■ \j\ up '0 ; Mine dowg the ball 
 
 " And look here ! tell him to saddle a horse for himself 
 at the same time ; I shall want him to go with me." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 Tonks disappeared. 
 
 Glad was he to do so with a whole skin. 
 
 Jonathan Wild stuck one end of his bludgeon into his 
 pocket, and put his hands in also. 
 
 With his head be it a little forward he walked slowly up 
 and down the hall. 
 
 He was arranging the order of his proceedings. 
 
 In an incredibly short time, considering what had to be 
 done, Quilt Arnold— who, like Blueskin, being high iD 
 Jonathan's confidence, was provided with a key, which 
 enabled him tc open the front door at pleasure — Quilt 
 Arnold, we say, in a very few minutes after the reception 
 of the order entered, and told the great thief-taker'that 
 the horses were waiting tit the door. 
 
 Quilt Arnold, who, as is well known, was one of the 
 most daring members of Jonathan Wild's gang, was of 
 medium height, and very strongly built. In his counte- 
 nance there was nothing prepossessing, unless, perhaps, 
 his eyes, which were jet black, small, and piercing. In- 
 deed, it was few who could keep their countenances un- 
 moved when Quilt fixed his keen glance upon them. 
 
 To those who were immediately under him he was over- 
 bearing and tyrannical to a degree. 
 
 To Jonathan most morigerous. 
 
 But this is by no means a rarity. 
 
 He spoke in a cringing tone of voice. 
 
 " The horses are all ready, if you plea.;'', Mr. Wild," he 
 said, " and waiting at the door." 
 
 " Very well, Quilt," growled Jonathan, throwing off his 
 abstraction and advancing to the door. "Follow me. 
 Keep a few yards in the rear, and take notice if you hear 
 any one on the road besides ourselves. I am going out of 
 town a little way." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, I am quite ready, sir, if you please." 
 
 As he spoke, he shut the door after him, and hurried 
 down the steps into the street. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 WILD HAS A HORRIBLE ADVENTURE IN THE VAULTS OP 
 TOTTENHAM CHURCH. 
 
 The night was cold and dark. 
 
 Dense, sad coloured clouds obscured the sky. 
 
 The wind came in short and fitful gusts, and whistled 
 dismally a i it swept round the narrow corners. 
 
 Occasionally, too, a heavy send of rain would reach the 
 earth. 
 
 Newgate-street was deserted. 
 
 At that time few people ventured forth after dark, in 
 consequence of the risk they ran of being set upon by 
 thieves. 
 
 But on this night certainly no one would leave the 
 shelter of a roof, unless compelled by some pressing ne- 
 cessity to do so. 
 
 Quilt Arnold felt anything but pleased at the prospect 
 of a long ride into the open country. 
 
 But it was more than his head was worth to demur, so 
 he wisely held his peace. 
 
 Jonathan Wild mounted his steed. 
 
 It was a tall, sinewy creature, not by an means handsome, 
 but of that kind usually chosen for cavalry service — fleet, 
 powerful, and enduring. 
 
 Quilt Arnold mounted also. 
 
 With great precision, then, Jonathan shaped his course 
 for his destination. 
 
 No one was much better acquainted with the topography 
 of London and its environs than he was. 
 
 As they approached the open country the cold rapidly 
 increased, and the wind was enough to cut one to the 
 bone. 
 
 Still Jonathan, unheeding, pushed on, whil" Quilt, 
 shivering in every limb, kept, as he had been bid, a few 
 paces behind him. 
 
 At length, to the inexpressible joy ot the latter, the 
 village of Tottenham was reached. 
 
 It was by no means late, at least between ten and eleven 
 o'clock, and yet every one in the village appeared ~o have > 
 retired for the night. 
 
 With the exception of one phce, t 
 
 Tliat was the village inn. 
 
 M:,- jytj}c|owsp| tbw streamed a bright light, I
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Jonathan drew up at the door and called to Quilt Ar- 
 nold to approach him. 
 
 " I am going in here for a few moments," he said. 
 " Walk the horses up and down and keep a sharp look-out 
 upon every persoD that passes you. I will send you out 
 something to drink." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan entered the inn. 
 
 He correctly calculated that in the kitchen of the inn 
 he would find the principal people in the village assem- 
 hled, and as it was only natur.nl to suppose the Bridal of 
 Death, as it might be termed, would be the subject of the 
 conversation. 
 
 Jonathan wanted some particulars respecting the fu- 
 neral. 
 
 He entered the kitchen then, and, as he expected, found 
 it full of people, all busily engaged in talking. 
 
 He sat down upon a seat near the door without exciting 
 more than casual notice. 
 
 As he passed the bar he had called for a glass of 
 brandy-and-waler for himselt and another lor his man. 
 
 Then, having been supplied, he prepared to listen to 
 what was going forward. 
 
 A little weazen-faced man, with a disagreeable squeaking 
 voice, was speaking. 
 
 " You can say what you like," he cried, evidently in 
 reply to some observation that bad just been made. " You 
 can say what you like; but still, for all that, I shall stick 
 to my own opinion !" 
 
 " And what is that ?" 
 
 " What is it ? Why that before many days are over 
 some of the Loudon thieves will be down here, and off the 
 diamond head-dress will go ! " 
 
 This proposition was received with murmurs of disbelief. 
 
 " Ah, well ! time will show who's right and who's 
 wrong. There hasn't been time for it to get known amoug 
 them yet; but when they do hear of it, you'll see." 
 
 " But it would be saGrilege to break into a church ; be- 
 sides, it would require some one with very strong nerves 
 to descend into the vault at night, and in the dark, for it 
 would not do for them to show a light." 
 
 " Yes, I know that fast enough ; but such a thing as 
 that would be a powerful temptation, and there are men 
 in London who would dare and do anything lur money." 
 
 " I don't say there ain't, but this I do say, and that is 
 if one of these London gentry as you've been speaking 
 about was to come down with the intention of taking the 
 diamond head-dress, they would find it a harder job than 
 tbev anticipated." 
 
 Wild began to prick up his ears. 
 
 Some information would now doubtless be given that 
 would be of the most material assistance to him. 
 
 " Fools ! " he muttered ; " but it is as well there are so 
 many in the world, or how is a clever fellow to get a 
 living?," 
 
 " Yes," said the thin man, with the squeaking voice, " I 
 knew there would be considerable difficulty in the way." 
 
 " There would — more than they would be able to get 
 over." 
 
 "Pho! pho!" 
 
 " First, then, there's the church-door. It's only last 
 Whitsuntide that friend Robins here put a new lock on 
 it." 
 
 "That's right enough," said a person whom Jonathan 
 supposed to be Robins ; " and a good lock it is, too. I 
 made it myself, after a design of my own, and I give any 
 one leave to try and pick it. ' 
 
 Wild smiled grimly. 
 
 " Very well, but supposing they do pick the door." — 
 
 "No, no," interrupted Mr. Robins, vehemently, "they 
 can't pick it, I tell you." 
 
 " But, just for the sake of argument, we : ll say they do 
 pick it." 
 
 " But what's the good of supposing what c*n't come 
 to pass ? An argument must have something to stand 
 on." 
 
 " Well, well," replied the other, " we'll suppose they do 
 get inside the church. They might get through the 
 window, you know." 
 
 " Oh ! very good," said Robins, " I don't say nothing 
 about the windows ; 1 say they can't pick the lock, so 
 what would be the good of supposing it ?" 
 
 " Hear, hear ! of course ! " murmured the company. 
 
 " I say we'll pappose they get inside tbf cbofCiU- Why, 
 
 their difficulties have only just began. You all know 
 where the vault is — just in front of the altar ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 " Well, the stone that covers it, you know very well, is 
 a flat, slab of marble, and weighs 1 don't know how many 
 hundredweight." 
 
 " Five or six," said a voice. 
 
 " Then wasn't it mortared dowu this very afternoon, 
 and now 1 should like to know how tbey are to get it up 
 eh ? without any one in the village being aware of it ? " 
 
 " My friend," said the weazened-face man again. " In 
 the course of my life I've been to a great, many places and 
 seen a great many things, and ] can tell you that I have 
 known thieves do more wonderful and seemingly impos- 
 sible things than that would be." 
 
 " They must have an uncommon pluck to try such a 
 thing on, and no mistake," said another voice. "It isn't 
 a diamond wreath that would tempt me to do such a thing, 
 bad as I want money." 
 
 " Now then, are you going to stop sottinghere all night, 
 I should like to know P said a woman, whose appearance 
 may bo briefly summed up in the words, " fat, fair, and 
 forty." "Ain't you ashamed of yourself, Mr. U., to sit 
 here settiug such an example; keeping meu away from 
 their ^ives ; but it's just like you, you wretch. Look at 
 tin 1 clock ; it's nearly half-past eleven ! " 
 
 The rapidity and shrillness with which these words 
 were uttered produced an electrical effect upon the com- 
 pany. 
 
 Even Jonathan was so disconcerted that he took a huge 
 gulp of his brandy and water. 
 
 " But my dear, ' begau au apologetic voice, "you for- 
 get." 
 
 " What do you mean; Mr. D. ? " said the landlady, with 
 additional irateuess ; " how can I forget? Can you look 
 the clock in the face without feeling downright ashamed 
 of yourself ? " 
 
 Mr. D. made no reply, from which it may be inferred 
 that he would feel ashamed of himself, nor would it need 
 a conjurer to divine he was a subject to gynarchy. 
 
 But the guests seemed perfectly to understand what was 
 meant. 
 
 One and all finished what ever there was before them, 
 and the knocking out of pipes was something terrific 
 
 They were nil in a hurry to depart. 
 
 A strict woman was Mrs. Dyer, the landlady, and lord 
 too, of the " Tiger's Head." Every night was the front 
 door closed, and the company turned out punctually at 
 eleven o'clock, but on this occasion she allowed them an 
 extra half hour. 
 
 But, despite her acerbity, a capital business was di >ne 
 at the " Tiger's Head." Mrs. Dyer was a special favour- 
 ite with every one of the customers, for she was one of 
 those monstrosities of feminine nature known as a " fine 
 woman." 
 
 But in this caso the word " fine " has always been a 
 meaning very different to what Dr. Johnson set down for 
 it in his dictionary. 
 
 He defines it " pure ; thin ; not coarse." 
 
 Now, neither of these detinitions can apply to a fine 
 woman, with the exception of the last ; but, in this case, 
 the negative must bo removed. 
 
 Then you have it exactly. 
 
 However, Jonathan Wild, seeing this state of things, 
 deemed it expedient not to attract attention towards him- 
 self by remaining until the room was clear, so was nearly 
 the first to leave it. 
 
 Quilt Arnold was walking the horses up and down, ac- 
 cording to orders. 
 
 Jonathan mounted immediately, and set off at a gallop. 
 
 It would bo necessary for him to defer the commence- 
 ment of his attack until the whole of the inhabitants were 
 deep in their fii'st sleep. 
 
 His brief sojourn at the "Tiger's Head" had in its results 
 surpassed his utmost expectations. 
 
 He had acquired there the very information necessary 
 to the successful execution of his plan. 
 
 Quilt Arnold was far from pleased. 
 
 But the night was by no means so inclement as it had 
 been. The wind had considerably abated — the sky had 
 become clear of clouds, and so the uncomfortable dashes 
 of rain came no longer. 
 
 During this ride Jonathan arranged ju bj inind 
 
 L .-;irt p] ..., . j ,.
 
 BLUESKIN: A E0MA3TC2. 
 
 What that was will be quickly seen. 
 
 (Having allowed, as he considered, a sufficient time to 
 elapse, he turned his horse's head in the direction of Tot- 
 tenham Church. 
 
 All these movements were quite incomprehensible to 
 Quilt. 
 
 " What in the world is he after ?" he muttered, as he 
 once more placed himself in the rear of the thief-taker. 
 i 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 j A SCENE OF HORROR— JONATHAN WILD BELIEVES HIS 
 LAST HOUR HAS COME. 
 
 j About two hundred yards from old Tottenham Church 
 
 Jonathan Wild pulled up and dismounted. 
 : It was before a gate leading into a meadow that he had 
 | stopped. 
 
 " Undo this gate, Quilt," he cried, " and turn the horses 
 I into it. Then follow me on foot." 
 
 I As it happened, the gate was not locked, but merely 
 j fastened with a spring latch. Arnold had no difficulty in 
 ; doing as he had been bid, and he ran along the lane after 
 Wild, who had almost got out of sight. 
 
 At the small wooden gate leading into the churchyard, 
 ! Wild paused and looked carefully all about him, as well as 
 : listened with all his ears. 
 But all was still. 
 
 He made a rapid gesture to his follower to be silent 
 and follow him. 
 
 Dreading lest, in the perfect stillness which prevailed, 
 that if he trod upon the gravelled path the sound of his 
 footsteps might be heard, he walked upon the turf. 
 Twenty steps brought him to the door of the church. 
 Before it was a fantastic-looking porch completely over- 
 grown with parasitical plants. 
 
 Once under this place Jonathan felt himself pretty 
 secure from observation. 
 
 He lighted a dark lantern which he took from his 
 pocket. 
 
 He, however, only partially withdrew the slide before 
 the lens. 
 
 His object was to ma»>.e an examination of the lock. 
 From what the maker of it had said, Wild fully expected 
 to find some very complicated piece of mechanism. 
 
 But to his astonishment the keyhole of the lock was 
 Large enough for him to put his little finger in. 
 A grin of derision came to his lips. 
 The locksmith was but a novice of the art now brought 
 to such perfection. He had fallen into the prevalent error 
 that to be impregnable a lock should be large. 
 
 But now they are made upon quite an opposite principle. 
 From a pocket in his vest Jonathan produced a queer- 
 I looking little instrument. 
 
 Bidding Quilt hold the light, he inserted it into the 
 ; keyhole. 
 
 He worked it about for some time unsuccessfully. The 
 lock resisted him. 
 
 But Jonathan persevered, and the result was that at 
 I last the bolt of the lock shot back with a snap. 
 I In spite of themselves both started. 
 
 In the silent church it sounded almost as loud as the 
 j report of a pistol. 
 
 The door creaked open. 
 
 After waiting to assure himself that no alarm had been 
 j given so far, Wild entered. 
 
 He took the lantern into his own hands again. 
 
 " Close the door, Quilt," he whispered, " and stay at it 
 
 on guard. I am going to the other end of the church. 
 
 If you hear anyone coming, give me the alarm at once." 
 
 Having made this arrangement, which was certainly an 
 
 J admirable one, Jonathan, allowing the faintest possible 
 
 gleam of light to fall upon the ground before him, ad- 
 
 I vanced with the greatest confidence as to his destination 
 
 along the nave of the church, 
 i It had been mentioned in the conversation that the 
 ' vault wherein reposed the young bride so inopportunely 
 stricken down by the hand of death was immediately 
 opposite the altar. 
 
 On reaching this spot Wild looked about him for the 
 indications of one of the slabs having been recently re- 
 j moved. 
 
 This he was not long in discovering. 
 He stooped down and pressed with his thumb sail upon 
 1 Iko earnest between two e* the sUjbssi i 
 
 It was quite soft. 
 
 But now a great difficulty arose. The slab was large 
 and consequently heavy, while he was unpossessed of any 
 tools that would properly assist him to elevate it. 
 
 However, slight as the prospect of lifting the stone from 
 its setting seemed, Jonathan put the lamp down on the 
 floor, and with a large clasp-knife commenced picking out 
 the mortar. 
 
 In a very short time he had completed this part of his 
 task. The whole of the cement was removed. 
 
 His coat pocket now provided him with an implement 
 which he never went anywhere without taking with him. 
 
 This was a small crowbar. 
 
 With the same air of quiet deliberation as he had all 
 along exhibited, Wild inserted its point into the space 
 where the mortar had been, and began to prize the stone. 
 
 He worked gently and steadily. 
 
 Gradually the heavy piece of stone was raised, and it 
 was soon high enough for him to insert the thin end of his 
 bludgeon as a kind of wedge. 
 
 After this the work became easier. 
 
 But, nevertheless, he would have been glad enough of 
 Quilt Arnold's assistance, only he considered it to be essen- 
 tial to his safety to have Quilt there on the watch for the 
 approach of any one. 
 
 That individual felt the greatest interest in what Wild 
 was about. His visit to the "Tiger's Head," and afterwards 
 apparently aimless ride into the country and back to Tot- 
 tenham, roused Quilt's curiosity to such an extent that it 
 became almost unbearable. 
 
 He strained his eyes, and endeavoured to pierce the 
 thick obscurity in the old church. 
 
 He could just see a shadow occasionally, which he iden- 
 tified as his master's body. 
 
 The sound of prizing the stone, however, came to his 
 ears with perfect distinctness. 
 
 " What is he after ?" he muttered. " I'd give a trifle 
 to know ; but, of course, it's more than my head's worth 
 to move from here and try to find out. Hang it all, who 
 is he afraid will come I wonder to the church at this time 
 of night ? Hallo ! what's up now ?" 
 
 A fall, and then a bitter execration. 
 
 Those were the two sounds that Quilt heard in quick 
 succession, and which interrupted the chain of his medita- 
 tions. 
 
 Both are easily explained. 
 
 The bludgeon which Jonathan had so cunningly put 
 underneath the stone had slipped from its position, and 
 the slab fell back again into its setting. 
 
 All Wild's labour was lost. 
 
 No wonder he vented the curse he did. It was certainly 
 aggravating in the extreme. 
 
 But, undeterred by this mishap, he recommenced his 
 work with fresh vigour. 
 
 He called Quilt to his aid. 
 
 Never before was Jonathan so willingly obeyed. 
 
 Their joint exertions of course effected a great deal, and 
 at last both, by pushing with all their might, succeeded in 
 getting the slab on to the flooring of the church. 
 
 But they did not remove it altogether ; an aperture just 
 large enough for the thief-taker's body to pass through 
 was left, but that was all. 
 
 Jonathan Wild took the lantern in his hand and pre- 
 pared to descend. 
 
 " Now, Quilt," he said, " back again to tho door." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I am going down here, you understand. What to do 
 doesn't in any way concern you, so don't trouble your 
 head about it ; but just keep inside the door, and the mo- 
 ment you hear a sound indicative of the approach of any 
 one give me the alarm instantly." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I shall trust to you, recollect. If anything occurs, the 
 best thing you can do to make me aware of it will be to 
 blow your whistle." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "Not loudly, you understand A long, low note, I 
 shall hear that." 
 
 Quilt resumed his station at the door. 
 
 Jonathan Wild slowly lowered himself into the vault. 
 
 He felt steps under his feet. 
 
 They were covered with eomc soft substance, into which 
 his boots eaak deeply. A Canute's thought told kiin trSai 
 ttWMi 
 
 ?^a iio;^ityg -?r=?- •»_ *■"■' :.-■■' .' 
 
 ■ -- ; . - ggi.-van j !i ■ '
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 31 
 
 Sawdust. 
 
 That was it. The stairs were thickly covered with it. 
 
 Tbert Jonathan got fairly beneath the flooring of the 
 church. 
 
 To say that a clammy sensation of fear did not seize 
 hirn would be untrue. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was human, and susceptible of human 
 influences. 
 
 The silence awed him. 
 
 The dampness chilled his blood. He coulo. feel it cold 
 even about his heart. 
 
 The intense darkness seemed like some mass of black 
 velvety material, which was pressing upon him in every 
 direction. 
 
 But, mastering these sensations with a tremendous 
 effort, and summoning up all his fortitude and courage, 
 Wild drew back the slide of the lantern lens to its fullest 
 extent, and allowed the whole of the light to pass freely 
 through the lens. 
 
 It revealed with great distinctness the dark, black 
 walls, which presented a vivid contrast to the white saw- 
 dust, with which the steps were plentifully covered. 
 
 Slowly, step by step, Wild descended the rude steps 
 leading into the vaults. 
 
 At their termination was a strong iron door. 
 
 Upon perceiving this unexpected obstacle, Wild felt 
 half inclined to turn back, making that serve for an 
 excuse. 
 
 The fact is, he was terrified, and was becoming more so 
 every minute. 
 
 But still in his terror one thought was uppermost in 
 his mind. 
 
 And tha' .vas, should he so far be the slave of his own 
 apprehensions as to leave his object unachieved, he would, 
 when he reflected upon the circumstance by the light 
 of day, be mortified beyond measure at his own pusil- 
 lanimity. 
 
 And so he would not turn back. 
 
 And yet he felt an equal disinclination to proceed 
 further. 
 
 He could not avoid feeling conscious that a strange, 
 heavy sensation was pressing upon his brain. 
 
 He put out his hand to steady himself. 
 
 By an accident it was against the door of the vault that 
 he leant instead of the wall. 
 
 Slowly, and with a dismal sound, it gave way before the 
 pressure. 
 
 Finding that the door was unsecured seemed to have 
 a re-invigorating effect upon Wild, and he shook off to a 
 very great extent the " thick coming fancies " which op- 
 pressed him. 
 
 He made a step forward into the vault. 
 
 As he did so he fancied he heard a sound coming appa- 
 rently from a great distance. 
 
 It was like a muffled groan or shriek. 
 
 " Pho, pho !" said Wild, and he waived his bludgeon 
 about him in a defiant manner as he spoke. " Pho, pho ! 
 1 will be fooled by my fancy no longer, or else I shall end 
 by going mad." 
 
 He rapidly flashed the light of the lantern about him, 
 and thus obtained a transient glimpse of every part of the 
 place he was in. 
 
 The vault was spacious. 
 
 But there was no one in it save himself and dead. 
 
 The atmosphere, however, appeared to have a sickly, 
 clammy feel, and which as he suspired it seemed to com- 
 municate itself to his whole frame. 
 
 Then Wild found that by speaking he lessened the 
 gloomy horror of the place. 
 
 His voice, he thought, never sounded so pleasantly 
 br.fore. 
 
 " I wonder now," he said, as he opened the door of the 
 lantern, and so allowed the light to diffuse itself equally 
 ! all round, " I wonder, now, whereabouts the coffin is that 
 contains the tiara of diamonds ? It ^ T .ill be well earned 
 "•V?r. I get it.'' 
 
 This was true. 
 
 That he should be in doubt and perplexed to know which 
 wan the coffin he wanted was natural enough, for all round 
 th 3 vault were niches, in which, upon shelves, tha coffins 
 vvr-rc ranged one above the other. 
 
 w'dd did not see room for above three mere, without 
 Sense fresh place was provided for them. 
 i v But oa locking more attentively he perceived {&at acme 
 
 of the coffins, which were all uniformly painted black and 
 cased with lead, bore every appearance of extreme age. 
 
 Then the thought struck him that most likely they had 
 been placed there in, so to speak, chronological order. 
 
 If this should be, much trouble would be saved. 
 
 And sure enough such proved to be the case. 
 
 In brief, he found at last one niche in which the coffins 
 were quite new, or rather appeared to be, for Jonathan 
 could detect no difference between fhem. 
 
 The two top shelves were unoccupied. 
 
 If, then, his theory was correct, the topmost one must 
 be the one he sought. 
 
 He turned round to seek some object upon which to 
 stand, for he found he was not high enough to reach 
 this one. 
 
 As he did so, he heard, with the utmost plainness, a 
 dull, rustling, bumping noise. 
 
 He turned round with the rapidity of lightning. 
 
 His eyes fixed themselves upon the coffin, which he 
 made up his mind contained the object of his desires. 
 
 Was he dreammg ? 
 
 Did his eyesight play him false ? 
 
 No; he felt neither of these was the case, and yet he 
 saw that which would be by everyone deemed an im- 
 possibility. 
 
 The coffin moved. 
 
 Not once, but twice, thrice, while the thumping, strug- 
 gling sound increased. 
 
 Wild tried to move. 
 
 But it was as though he was possessed by some fright- 
 ful incubus, which held all his corporal faculties enthralled. 
 
 He could not move. 
 
 He could not speak. 
 
 His jaw fell in the effort, but he could not raise it, while 
 his eyes seem starting from his head. 
 
 His attitude and his countenance were expressive of tho 
 most intense, unutterable horror. 
 
 And then arose a shriek so wild, so unearthly, so brain- 
 piercing in its tones, that it was sufficient to drive anyono 
 who heard it into madness. 
 
 And to enhance the frightful nature of the scene, ere 
 yet the awful scream was fully articulated, the coffin 
 turned over on its side, and fell with a terrific crash on 
 the floor at the thief-taker's feet. 
 
 He felt his senses were leaving him. 
 
 The lantern dropped from his nerveless fingers. 
 
 At the same moment he felt himself clutched with vice- 
 like power by the arm. 
 
 That seemed to break the spell, and his pent-up feelings 
 gave vent in one heart-bursting groan. 
 
 Jonathan Wild sunk down on the floor of the vault in a 
 swoon ! 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 RETURNS TO BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD, AND RE- 
 LATES HOW THEY EFFECTED AN ENTRANCE INTO "THE 
 GRANGE." 
 
 "Now, Jack! Up with you! It will be better to ride 
 than to walk, I can tell you. Jump up ! " 
 
 Such were the words addressed by Blueskin to Jack 
 Sheppard, when, in answer to the signal given by the 
 former, a horse and cart appeared in the yard belonging 
 to the livery stables in Long-acre. 
 
 Jack obeyed. 
 
 Blueskin was by his side in a moment, and then, taking 
 hold of the reins, he touched the horse with the whip and 
 drove out into the street. 
 
 The horse was one that possessed every essential requi- 
 site for such a job as he was now upon, and without any 
 coercion he drew the light vehicle along at a rapid pace._ 
 
 The Oxford-road was the point to which Blueskin 
 shaped his course. 
 
 As yet Jack knew nothing of their destination, and so 
 he took this opportunity to inquire. 
 
 " Kiiburn," said Blake. 
 
 " And what sort of a place is it ? " 
 
 " A very pretty old-fashioned building, known simply as 
 ' The Grange.' Keep your eyes open, and then you will 
 be able to manage a little job of the kind yourself." 
 
 " But Blueskin, my friend, do as a favour tell me all yc& 
 know about the young girl at the ' Black Lion.' Ii you 
 had any idea how anxious and interested I am abest U03 
 you would do so at once,"
 
 3i 
 
 BLBESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 As before, however, Lis companion made no reply to Lis 
 question. 
 
 This behaviour puzzled .Tack exceeding!}', who began, 
 like the landlord, to entertain an opinion that Joe Blake 
 as Le called himself, was something morethan he professed 
 to be. 
 
 And in tbat conjecture tLey were perfectly right. 
 
 In the progress, however, of this narrative the mastery 
 in which he msLrouded himself will be dispelled, and the 
 reader put into possession of one of the most extraordinary 
 life romances tbat could be imagined. 
 
 It will not fail to be suspected that there was in some 
 way a connexion between the shroudmaker and Jonathan's 
 lieutenant, and we may as well state here that such was 
 actually the case. 
 
 But of the nature of tLe connexion we can at present 
 say nothing. 
 
 Jack's.disposition was one that might truly be called an 
 impressionable oue, and the peculiar circumstances atten- 
 dant upon tLe rescue of the girl had not failed to exert a 
 deep and lasting influence. 
 
 llis mind was occupied with and about Ler exclu- 
 sive] v. 
 
 It tormented him to a degree that Lis comrade sLould 
 actually Lave some knowledge respecting wLo and wLat 
 she was, and yet refuse to impart it to him. 
 
 The cart sped oi its way. 
 
 A few minutes after tLey Lad passed tLe church of St. 
 Giles's-in-the-Fields, tLey heard the hour- of midnight 
 pealed forth. 
 
 Another turn to the left and they were in the Oxford- 
 road. 
 
 This was completely deserted ; neither horse nor man 
 appeared in view. 
 
 As, however, at the period of our story this place was 
 open country, the wind swept along it with great keen- 
 ness. 
 
 It was rather strange that on that night Jonathan Wild 
 and Quilt Arnold — Blueskin and Jack Sheppard should 
 both be out on that particular nigLt and bound on perilous 
 expeditions. 
 
 There was not a word further uttered by either Sheppard 
 or Blueskin until the railings which surround Hyde-park 
 were reached. 
 
 Then the latter spoke. 
 
 " Don't be sulky, Jack," he said. " If it was in my 
 power to communicate to you what I know I would do so 
 freely, but I cannot." 
 
 " Why not ? In what way is it a secret ?" 
 
 " Thus. I could not answer you without giving you a 
 glimpse of my own life — I mean without enabhng you to 
 form an idea who I really am — and that would be impos- 
 sible." 
 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 " I will, however, promise you to do all I can to serve 
 the girl, but you must not expect to know all my thoughts. 
 The time will come, perLaps — perLaps not." 
 
 lie turned into tLe Uxbridge-road along wbicL tLey 
 went at unabated speed. 
 
 " And now, Jack, listen to me. Dismiss from your 
 mind all tLougLts except tLose immediately connected 
 witL tLe business wo are upon. Less than a quarler-of-an- 
 hour now will take us to ' The Grange.' " 
 
 " It's no good asking me not to think about her," 
 replied Jack. " It would be impossible." 
 
 "Oh! stuff! Lea little bit more like a man, or I shall 
 be ashamed of you." 
 
 TLe remainder of the distance to Kilburn was passed 
 over in silence. 
 
 And now the moon rose above tLe Luge masses of 
 clouds upon the horizon, and shed a subdued light upon 
 tLe scene. 
 
 Picturesquely situated upou a piece of gently rising 
 ground, was a quaint, red-brick building. 
 
 Wben they were within twenty yards of it, Blueskin 
 pulled up, and pointing with his whip, said — 
 
 " Yonder is the place. Wo aust get out here, for if 
 we go further, the grating of the wLeels may be beard. 
 It is a neat-looking place." 
 
 " Who lives in it ? " said Jack. 
 
 " A retired city merchant, named Iladley. He is 
 immensely rich, so wo ought to make a good haul ! It is 
 not, however, for booty in the sLape of plate or money 
 that I go, but for some papers also." 
 
 WLile speaking, Blueskin and SLeppard aligLted from 
 tLe cart, and led the Lorse to the side of the lane, where, 
 as is not infrequently tLe case, grass was growing in 
 abundance. 
 
 TLe horse immediately bent bis head, and began 
 cropping the sweet herbage. 
 
 SLut up in a London stable'as Le was nearly all tLe year \ 
 round, and fed upon notLing but dry food, a meal of grass 
 was quite a luxury. 
 
 " It won't be worth while to tie him in any way," i 
 said Blake. " 1 know him. He will stray only a few , 
 yards from where ho now is. Just get up on to the step . 
 of tLe cart and give mo tLe bag of tools I left upon tLe ( 
 seat." 
 
 " Here you are ! WLy, what a weight they are ! " 
 
 " Yes, rather. Come along now, at once. We are 
 already later tban I intended to be ; however, perLaps it is 
 quite as well." 
 
 " WLy ? " 
 
 " It will Lave given everybody time to get sound off to 
 sleep." 
 
 As Blueskin bad been informed by the person whose 
 duty it was to take an accurate observation of every place 
 that was to be entered, "The Grange" was completely 
 surrounded by a high brick wall. 
 
 He had come provided with the means of surmounting 
 it. 
 
 Upon reaching oue particular spot, he opened the bag 
 of tools, and took therefrom a bundle, which, when 
 unrolled, proved to be a strong rope ladder. 
 
 Jack looked with great curiosity to see how it was to 
 be made serviceable. 
 
 Then he noticed that to oue end of the ladder was 
 fastened a piece of iron, which curved over and formed 
 two hooks large enough to bold on a wall. 
 
 Blueskin held this part in a particular manner with his 
 right hand, while in his left hand he held the other eu'l of 
 the rope ladder. 
 
 He stood a little way from the wall, and swung his arm 
 backwards and forwards. 
 
 Suddenly, then, after taking a very careful aim, he let 
 go of the iron part, and up in the air it went. 
 
 As it descended, it caught upon the top of the w r all, 
 and Blake, by a sudden jerk, secured it there. 
 
 It made a sharp clinking sound as it struck against the 
 brickwork, but it was so explosive that it was a thousand 
 chances if it attracted notice, had anyone been about and 
 heard it. 
 
 To throw the ladder so that the iron hooks should catch 
 upon the top of the wall, of course required no small 
 amount, of dexterity and skill, but Blake, by long practice, 
 was able to accomplish it with as much precision us a 
 Mexican can throw the lasso over the neck of a wild horse. 
 
 Jack was quite lost in admiration. 
 
 " Wonderful ! " he said. " If I had not seen it done I 
 should never have believed it ! That's what I call down- 
 right clever ! " 
 
 " Oh ! if that surprises you, you snail be astonished 
 presently. That is the easiest part of the whole affair ! 
 Now, then, you go up the ladder first, and I will hold it 
 steady at the bottom for you, as you are not used to it. 
 When you get to the top sit astride the wall, and wait till 
 1 join you.' 
 
 Jack Sheppard was very lithe and nimble, and he 
 climbed up the ladder with the agility of a young squirrel . 
 
 On reaching the top, he, in obedience to Blueskin's 
 instructions, seated himself across it. 
 
 Then Blake himself ascended. 
 
 Beneath them was a summer-house or arbour, which 
 stood at the extremity of a little garden. 
 
 This garden was at the rear of the building, which was 
 the part Blueskin had chosen at which to make his 
 burglarious entry. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE STRUGGLE BETWEEN BLUESKIN AND THE UAStlFg-— 
 THE LISCOVERY AND THE ALARM. 
 
 Our friends — for such we think our hero and Jack are 
 fairly entitled to be called — were certainly, as yet, oniy at 
 the commencement of their work, but still, so far all Lad 
 gone well. No alarm had been given, and they looked 
 forward confidently to bring the matter to a successful 
 issue.
 
 til, Die bKiN : A aOH'ANCS. 
 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD PAYS A VISIT TO HIS PRISONERS. j 
 
 Cautioning Jack to be silent, Blueskin, without further 
 loss of time, drew the rope ladder up, and reversing the 
 hooks at the top, let it down on the other side. 
 
 They found it more than long enough to reach the 
 ground. 
 
 For the same reason that he had before given— namely, 
 to be enabled to steady the ladder for his less experienced 
 companion — Blueskin was the first to descend. 
 
 Just, however, as he reached the ground, and before he 
 could fairly turn round, a monstrous mastiff, which, during 
 the night, was turned loose to guard the premises, utter- 
 ing a suppressed and savage growl, sprang upon him. 
 
 Blueskin was totally unprepared for this attack. The 
 spy who had reconnoitred the place had said nothing to 
 him of the circumstance of a dog being at large during the 
 night. 
 
 It was fortunate for Blueskin that he wore one of those 
 huge neckcloths then in vogue, for the dog flew at his 
 neck, aad would unquestionably have bitten him severely 
 
 had not his teeth imbedded themselves in its voluminous 
 folds. 
 
 The sudden dash with which the dog came against him, 
 hurled him to the ground, but, recovering his presence of 
 mind almost instantaneously, he clutched the brute with 
 no gentle gripe by the throat, and immediately commenced 
 to struggle with him. 
 
 His great aim was to prevent the dog making use or his 
 voice, which would have infallibly aroused the people in 
 the house. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, when he saw the mas) iff make such a 
 sudden attack upon his friend, was for a moment paralyzed 
 'with horror, but quickly arousing himself, he began to 
 descend the ladder. 
 
 This, he found, was more difficult than he could have 
 believed, tor it swayed about in the most perplexing 
 manner, and grazed the skin off Ms knuckles dreadful^. 
 
 In the meantime the fight continued. 
 
 He could hear Blueskin in a whisper calling to bun tr, 
 
 , U «Ut this Number, The COLOURED KCTUBE of JACK SHEPPARD'S 
 
 ESCAPE F?OM NEWGATE,
 
 M 
 
 ill. I ESKIN : A RuMANCE. 
 
 .?ome to his assistance, which ho was sure he would not do 
 if it were n : necessary. 
 
 Fearing -ien, that Blake should think he wa* holding 
 back frorc fear, Jack let go of the ladder, and dropped 
 the remainder of the distance. 
 
 He alighted on the soft mould with but little injury save 
 the shake. 
 
 The dog, upon .seeing approach another of his enemies, 
 made a furious eilort to get free from Blueskin's grasp. 
 But in vain. 
 
 " Quick, Jacbj -.;aick ! " the latter exclaimed, in a hoarse 
 whisper. " Quick, help me, or we are lost ! Knife the 
 brute — knife him, I'll hold him tight the while." 
 
 Acting upon this hint, Jack drew a very formidable 
 clasp knife from his pocket, and crept forward tc stab the 
 dog. 
 
 But despite Blake's assurauce that he would hold the 
 dog tightly, he found it beyond his strength to do so, and 
 they rolled over and over, and round about so fast, that it 
 was hard to distinguish one from the other, and, certainly, 
 to have made a stab with the knife would have been 
 hazardous in the extreme. 
 
 But at last Jack himself grasped the brute with his left 
 hand, and then with great suddenness plunged the knife 
 just under his shoulder into his heart. 
 
 A torrent of blood gushed forth as he withdrew the 
 knife, and the dog, in a moment ceasing his struggles, fell 
 back quite dead. 
 
 The wound was instantaneously fatal. 
 
 Jack wiped his knife, and dragged the dog off the body 
 of his friend. 
 
 It was a large and, doubtless, valuable specimen of his 
 species, and it required all the strength of which Jack was 
 possessed to move him when he was dead. 
 
 Breathless and exhausted, Blueskin rose to his feet. 
 
 Fortunately he had received no hurt from the dog, with 
 the exception of such as had been inflicted by his claws, 
 and these, painful as they were, Blueskin cared not for. 
 
 " That was a very narrow escape. Jack. Why didn't 
 you come to my assistance earlier ? You would have 
 paved me a good deal of strength and one or two 
 scratches." 
 
 " I came as soon as I could. The ladder swung about 
 bo that I could not get down. Look here, how it has 
 served my hands, the skin is all off the back of them. I 
 let go when I was half-way down, but as I lighted on a 
 garden-bed it didn't much matter." 
 
 "We have both been in the wars. Confound the dog. 
 However, let us be thankful it is no worse. Pick up the 
 bag of tools again, it is just at the bottom of the wall, and 
 come on as quickly as you can." 
 
 Jack obeyed ; and in a minute or two after stood with 
 Blake at the door which opened from the kitchen into the 
 yard. 
 
 This the spy, who under the garb of a beggar, had a 
 day or two before visited the place, was fastened merely 
 by two bolts, one near the top and the other near the 
 bottom of the door. There was no lock, but a drop latch 
 only. 
 
 Acting then upon this informatiou, Blake cut two cir- 
 cular holes in the door, through which he could introduce 
 his hand, and then noiselessly drew back the bolts. 
 
 Jack's excitement was intense when Blueskin lifted the 
 latch and opened the door. 
 
 As soon as they were inside, Blake lighted a dark lantern 
 and cautiously looked about him. 
 
 All was well ! 
 
 Beckoning Jack to come in silently, he closed the door ; 
 and again having recourse to the bag of tools, he took 
 therefrom a couple of pairs of slippers. 
 
 These were of wadding, covered with silk, and made 
 large enough to fit over the ordinary boots. 
 
 Of course, when they were on, their footsteps would be 
 inaudible. 
 
 Blueskin handed a mir to Jack, and motioned to him 
 to put them on. 
 
 i S r d ^? e ' *-" next tlj ings be produced were two 
 masks of black crape, which were sewn up into folds. 
 
 When the one which was given to him was on, Jack 
 found that he could see through it with considerable dis- 
 tinctness, but Blueskin's face was perfectly invisible. 
 
 This, then, was an effectual precaution against their faces I 
 being recognized, if they should happen to be discovered. 
 i But Blueskin was so expert that this scarcely ever hap- ] 
 
 ' peued to him, yet, for all that, he never failed to provide 
 against contingencies. 
 
 Having now effected an entrance, and made all their 
 j preparations, it remained, of course, for them to secure 
 their booty as speedily as possible, and decamp. 
 
 Accordingly Blueskin unfastened the door leading from 
 this kitchen into the interior of the dwelling, and passed 
 through it. 
 
 : /They then found themselves on a square landing, from 
 j which ascended two steps leading to the principal or 
 entrance hall of the mansion. 
 
 The silence of the grave prevailed, which even the pre- 
 I seuce of the two burglars did not break, for owing to the 
 | thick wadding slippers they had on tbeir steps were per- 
 j fectly noiseless. 
 
 Jack Sheppard followed his accomplice up the broad 
 staircase in the hall conducting to the rooms above. 
 
 With the greatest certainty as to his course Blueskin 
 ascended the second flight, and paused before a door at the 
 extremity of a narrow passage. 
 
 Using the greatest caution he took hold of the handle 
 and turned it gently round. 
 
 The door yielded. 
 
 But as it turned upon its hinges it made an ominous 
 creaking sound. 
 
 Still it was not sufficient to awaken a sleeper. 
 
 The pair glided into the room. 
 
 The deep breathing of some person in a sound sleep 
 reached his ears. 
 
 Blueskin carefully withdrew about an inch the dark slide 
 which covered the lens of the lantern. 
 
 By the beam of light thus sent forth the whole of ths 
 apartment was bit by bit revealed. 
 
 On every side were tokens that no cost had been spared 
 in the furnishing of it. 
 
 Heavy draperies, thick carpets, massive and gorgeously- 
 carved and gilt articles — all combined to produce an air of 
 perfect luxuriousness. 
 
 Blueskin placed the lamp on the floor, and sinking down 
 crawled on all fours towards the bed. 
 
 Upon reaching it he lifted up the valance and peeped 
 underneath. 
 
 What he sought was there. 
 
 It was a strong box. 
 
 Increasing, if possible, the caution which had charac- 
 terized all his previous movements, Blueskin grasped with 
 bis right hand the iron handle in the end of it, and began 
 with an exertion of strength of which few men would have 
 been capable to drag it towards him. 
 
 As it slipped slowly and steadily, without a jerk, over 
 the thick carpet, it scarcely made a sound. 
 
 To Jack, who stood watching his proceedings, it seemed 
 to take an age to get the chest fairly out from underneath 
 the bed. 
 
 But at last, and without the least noise being made, it 
 was accomplished. 
 
 Blueskin paused a moment for breath. 
 
 He listened at the same time. 
 
 But as all in and about the place seemed to be in a sUite 
 of utter repose, he proceeded to continue his operations. 
 
 His next act was to take a bunch of small-sized skeleton 
 keys from his pocket. 
 
 He looked closely at the keyhole of the box, and then 
 selected a key which he thought would answer his purpose. 
 
 Jack watched him with the greatest anxiety. 
 
 Having chosen a key, Blueskin placed it in the lock. 
 
 It turned slightly. 
 
 Imagining, then, that it was only necessary for him to 
 exert a little force to make the key turn in the wards, he 
 pressed upon the bowl. 
 
 Instead, however, of producing the expected effect, to 
 his utter confusion and dismay a Dright flash of light shot 
 forth, which was immediately followed by a loud and 
 stunning report, which would more than suffice not only 
 to alarm one household, but a whole neighbourhood. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS STRONG BOX 13 THE MEANS OF BRINGING 
 DANGER ABOUT THE EAKS OF THE TWO HC 
 BREAKERS. 
 
 Blueskin, with a cry of pain and rage, sprang to his feet. 
 Jack snatched up the lantern. 
 But the strong bo^. as if deeming the explosion not
 
 BLCESK1X : A FiOMAXCK. 
 
 sufficient, commenced making a noise of a div r -. f 
 character. 
 
 In tone it greatly resembled that intricate pietv o< 
 mechanism, a musical-box, only the sound was about ;. 
 thousand times greater. 
 
 Evidently the box was made in a manner so as to best 
 resist attack, for not only had the presence of a strange 
 key caused a loud report, as if from a pistol, but also set 
 Boine hidden machinery in motion, which created a clang- 
 ing, ringing noise. 
 
 " Thieves ! thieves .' Murder ! murder ! Help ! help ! 
 Thieves ! thieves ! " shouted a voice from behind the cur- 
 tains of the bed. 
 
 It was succeeded by the loud ringing of a bell in some 
 distant part of the building. 
 
 Everybody in the place would be aroused. 
 
 The position of the two housebreakers was most despe- 
 rate. 
 
 For a moment Blueskin stood bewildered by the rapidity 
 of the events which had occurred. 
 
 The clamour grew greater and greater. 
 
 But Blueskin quickly recovered his presence of mind. 
 
 He shut the chamber door, locked it, and shot two bolts 
 into their sockets. 
 
 As he thus accomplished the, as it appeared to Jack, 
 insane feat of making them prisouers, the tramp of hurried 
 footsteps could be heard in the passage. 
 
 Blueskin turned away like lightning, and, rushing to the 
 bed, drew back the heavy curtains. 
 
 " Murder ! murder ! " screamed a man, who was sitting 
 up in bed, pulling a rope, which doubtless communicated 
 with the bell which was still tolling loudly, " Help— help ! 
 Oh ! murder ! help ! " 
 
 With no gentle hand Blueskin clashed the barrel of a 
 pistol into the man's mouth, who, of course, was Mr. 
 Hadley, the retired merchant, and occupier of the Grange." 
 
 ° Cease your cries ! " exclaimed Blake in a deep, stern 
 voice, " and let go the rope, or, so sure as it is a pistol 
 barrel which I have put into your mouth, you are a dead 
 man." 
 
 Mr. Hadley fell flat back in bed. 
 
 He trembled with fear at the close approach of death. 
 
 But short as was the time this took, it was long enough 
 to enable some of the inmates to reach the door. 
 
 They knocked violently when they found it fast. 
 
 But Blueskin had resolved upon a bold course of action. 
 
 It is just possible, considering the dreadful state of 
 fright in which Mr. Hadley then was, that he might, by 
 acting promptly, have made his escape. 
 
 But that, until hi3 purpose was accomplished, was not 
 what Blueskin wished to do. 
 
 " Open ' open ! " cined several voices at the door. 
 " What's the matter ! Open ! open ! " 
 
 Blake seized Mr. Hadley by the arm, and, exerting his 
 utmost strength, pulled him out of bed. 
 
 The merchant, half-dead with fear, plumped down upon 
 his knees as soon as he reached the door. 
 
 Blueskin shook him vigorously. 
 
 Then pressing the muzzle of the pistol against his fore- 
 head with sufficient force to cause considerable pain, he 
 whispered in his ear impressively — 
 
 " Mr. Hadley, if you have any desire to see another day, 
 you will reply as I tell you to reply." 
 
 " Yes, yes, good sir, was the answer, in an agony of 
 trepidation. Take all I've got, good sirs, but spare my 
 life." 
 
 " Ah, novr you talk sensibly. I would rather not shed 
 your blood if I could avoid it ; though I should not for a 
 moment scruple to do so if I saw, or fancied I saw, a ne- 
 cessity. Repeat my words in answer to those without. If 
 you do not, your blood be upon your own head ; for I will 
 assuredly blow you brains out. I should then, before 
 your domestics could euter, have time to effect my purpose 
 and escape." 
 
 While this took place the hammering and shouting at 
 the door increased to a terrific extent. 
 
 " Now," said Blueskin, "speak after me. If your voice 
 trembles in the least— if you fail to repeat my words cor- 
 rectly, or do anything to rouse a suspicion in the minds of 
 those without that aU is not right, that moment shall be 
 your last. Do you understand ? " 
 " Ye — es, good sir. Spare my life." 
 " Obey me, and I will. 
 "Who's there?" wbed thorn without. "What's tie 
 
 !)!:: tier, sir ? Is it thieves or fire ? What was that 6hot ? 
 ai J why was the alarm-bell rung ? Open ! opeu ' " 
 
 They paused for a reply. 
 
 " Repeat these words," whispered Blueskin : " Say, it's 
 all right — there's nothing the matter." 
 
 Mr. Hadley made two or three abortive attempts to 
 speak. 
 
 Then he gasped out rather than uttered — 
 
 " It's all right — there's nothing the matter." 
 
 This unexpected reply produced quite a consternation 
 in the minds of those without — they glared at each other 
 aghast. 
 
 "All right!" they repeated. "Nothing the matter? 
 Why who rang the alarm-bell ? " 
 
 " I did," replied Mr. Hadley, speaking after Blueskin. 
 " 1 woke up dreaming and frightened, but it's t'l right 
 now." 
 
 The servauts, however, appeared far from satisfied and 
 did not move. 
 
 "What are you stopping there for ?" asked the mer- 
 chant, still repeating after Blueskin, " Don't I U II von it's 
 all right, and there's nothing the matter ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ; you do ! " replied a chorus of voices, " but 
 you speak so strangely." 
 
 " What is it to you how I speak ? Be off at once. To 
 bed with you all. The one that dallies to obey my orders 
 will be discharged to-morrow." 
 
 This threat had the desired effect, and the servauts 
 withdrew with, be it said, manifest reluctance. 
 
 There was something so artificial and contrary to his 
 usual manner in the way their master spoke, that they 
 felt sure something was amiss, though what that some- 
 thing was they could not conjecture ; for had ho not, with 
 his own voice, told them that nothing was the matter. 
 
 In face of the threat of discharging anyone who lingered 
 what could they do but retire P 
 
 Nothing. 
 
 It was, however, with uneasy consciences. 
 
 Blueskin waited and listened until he felt sure that 
 everyone had departed. 
 
 Then he spoke to Sheppard, who had, from a variety of 
 antagonistic emotions, stood perfectly still during the 
 enaction of the extraordinary scene we have described. 
 
 " Pick up the lantern, Jack," he said, " and turn on the 
 full light. Quick, now ! there is no time to be lost if we 
 are to accomplish our purpose and get off safely." 
 
 As he spoke he let go his hold of the merchant, who 
 fell to the floor in a state of insensibility. 
 
 It was hardly possible for human nature to be proof 
 against what he bad endured. Indeed, that he should 
 have stood up against it so long as he did is something 
 wonderful. 
 
 As directed, Jack took up the lantern, and, turning back 
 the slide, tolerably illuminated the apartment. 
 
 The clanging noise inside the box had ceased. 
 
 The machinery, which no doubt consisted of some 
 cunning arrangement of springs and wheels, had ruu 
 down. 
 
 If Blueskin had had the ordering of things, be would 
 certainly not have allowed Mr. Hadley to go off in a swoon, 
 but made him unfasten his strong box. 
 
 However, as it was, there was nothing left for him to 
 do but to open it himself. - 
 
 This he now had little fear in doing, for he calculated 
 and with some show of reason, that it had done all in the 
 shape of mischief that it was capable of doing till it wa-s 
 again put ready for action. 
 
 Knowing it to be customary with many people to sleep 
 with the bunch of keys under their pillow, Blueskin went 
 to the bed in the hope of finding Mr. Hadley's, for it of 
 course stood to reason that the proper key would be the 
 easiest to unlock the box with. 
 
 In this hope he was not disappointed. 
 A bunch of keys was there. 
 
 His practised eye enabled him to almost immediately 
 select the proper key from the others in the bunch, and, 
 I on applying it to the bos, he found it turn in the lock with 
 | case. 
 
 | He hastily lifted the lid. 
 
 1 The contents of the box almost dazzled him. 
 i s: Get the bag, Jack," he cried, " and slip these things 
 { into it. Bravo ! it is a splendid booty, and well worth all 
 the trouble it has cost us." . , , 
 
 I So saying be rajJMly turned out of the box a very
 
 36 
 
 BlUESKIN : A BOMANCE. 
 
 valuable service of plate, and, in addition to that, a casket, 
 the contents of which he judged to be jewels. 
 
 Then, without devoting any further attention to them, 
 he proceeded to examine the indorsements upon a number 
 of little packages of papers 
 
 Nearly all of these he contemptuously cast aside, 
 but one or two he placed carefully in his breast -pocket. 
 
 But still he seemed in quest of something more, for, 
 without pausing an instaut, be kept tossing things out 
 until at last the chest was quite empty. 
 
 While he was thus occupied, Jack had carefully stowed 
 into the ba^ which contained their tools the whole of the 
 dinner servic. the casket, and a great many other objects 
 of less value. 
 
 He finished just as Blueskin turned the last thing out, 
 and he stood looking curiously at him. 
 
 It would not by any means be going too far to say that 
 the number and diversity of events of which he had been 
 cognizant during the past few hours had quite a confusing 
 effect upon Sheppard's mind. 
 
 The imminent danger in which they had stood had 
 unnerved him, and it is not at all to be wondered at that it 
 did. 
 
 With the stock of the pistol with which he had 
 threatened to take the merchant's life, Blueskin knocked 
 against the walls of the iron chest in order to discover 
 whether there were any hollows in it. 
 
 But there did not appear to be. No matter where- 
 abouts he struck, a uniform solid sound was produced. 
 
 He was irritated at being unable to find what he 
 sought. 
 
 It was a certain document, with the nature of which the 
 reader will presently be made acquainted. 
 
 He rose up. 
 
 " Have you got all safe, Jack ?" 
 
 " Everything," replied Sheppard, hoisting the bag on 
 to his shoulder. " Here, you had better take the lan- 
 tern." 
 
 " Yes. We have done a pretty good night's work, 
 though what I wanted was not in the bos." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " No. It was a paper of great consequence to Jonathan 
 Wild. But come, if we stay much longer it will be broad 
 daylight by the time we reach London, and that will never 
 do." 
 
 So saying, Blueskin unfastened and opened the door. 
 
 No sooner, however, did he cross the threshold, than a 
 sudden dash was made at him, and a dozen hands clutched 
 at different portions of his body and apparel, while a shout 
 of exultation arose from many throats. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 AVARICE AS USUAL SUCCEEDS IN DULLING JONATHAN 
 WILD'S SUPERSTITIOUS FEARS. 
 
 Before we proceed to relate what Blueskin did upon 
 this occasion, it is absolutely necessary that we should 
 revert to Jonathan Wild, and detail the sequel of the 
 frightful events which occurred in the vaults beneath the 
 old church at Tottenham. 
 
 It will be recollected that Jonathan, hearing a noise 
 behind him, turned suddenly round, and beheld one of the 
 coffins moving slightly, while from its interior a sound, 
 the like of which he had never heard before, proceeded. 
 
 Attenuated already as his mind was by the ghastly 
 objects wherewith he was surrounded, it is no matter of 
 surprise that this spectacle should consummate the en- 
 chainment of his faculties. 
 
 Then, as with bursting eyeballs he gazed upon it, his 
 senses received a still greater shock, for a fearful shriek — 
 such as might, without any stretch of the imagination, be 
 supposed to emanate from some damned soul when hurled 
 headlong downwards to berdition — rent the air, which 
 stagnated around him. 
 
 And then ere it had died away — horror of horrors ! the 
 coffin toppled over, and fell on to the floor of the vault. 
 
 Jonathan felt his senses were leaving him. 
 
 And yet before total annihilation supervened ho was 
 conscious that a bony hand had seized him with an iron 
 grasp. 
 
 After that all was nothingness. 
 
 For the first time in his life, Wild swooned. 
 
 Hqw long he remained in a state of syncope he bad, of 
 
 course, no means of telling, but it was for no very great 
 length of time, since the peculiar dullness of the atmos- 
 phere would naturally have a revivifying effect upon the 
 system. 
 
 When he came back to life his brain was in a whirl. 
 
 ,t was some time before he could call to mind what bad 
 happened. 
 
 The rayless darkness puzzled him. It was long before 
 he could form an idea of where he was. 
 
 A sensation of weight, too, was about his limbs, as 
 though some heavy body was pressing on them. 
 
 But Jonathan's mind and memory were strong and 
 lucid ; so after a time it happened that he recollected all 
 that had taken place up to a certain point. 
 
 What that certain point was the reader already knows. 
 
 For a few moments he was the slave to a fresh acces- 
 sion of superstitious terror. 
 
 But with admirable self-control he subdued it. 
 
 Then he slowly rose to a sitting posture, and drew his 
 legs from under the heavy weight which was above them. 
 
 In this attitude he remained for a few seconds. 
 
 Every second his mind was getting clearer, and what 
 was more, freer from ghostly dread. 
 
 He put out his right hand. 
 
 But he drew it back with an involuntary shudder of 
 loathing and disgust. 
 
 It had touched something cold — icy cold. 
 
 Then in another instant he recollected what, from the 
 peculiar feel, it must have been. 
 
 His lantern. 
 
 Nothing more. 
 
 His dark lantern, which he now remembered he had in 
 his fright let fall. 
 
 It was with anything but repugnance, after having made 
 this discovery, that he again extended his hand in the 
 direction of the cold object. 
 
 But this time he was not so fortunate, for he made 
 several fruitless attempts before he could succeed in touch- 
 ing it. 
 
 At last he found it. 
 
 With trembling eagerness lie opened the little door and 
 felt with his fingers if the wick was uninjured. 
 
 Yes, all was well. 
 
 In another moment he ignited it by means of a phos- 
 phorous match, for Jonathan always took the precaution 
 — a good one under any circumstances — to have about his 
 person the means of readily procuring a light. 
 
 The wick of the lantern flickered and spluttered a great 
 deal before it caught light properly, and to prevent any 
 current of air reaching it Jonathan closed the door in 
 which the bull's eye was fitted. 
 
 Slowly and carefully he got upon his feet. 
 
 By tBe time he had drawn himself up to his full height 
 a broad beam of light issued through the lens. 
 
 Then as he looked downward a frightful spectacle pre- 
 sented itself to his view. 
 
 Truly was it enough to freeze the blood. 
 
 The coffin which had in so inexplicable a manner tum- 
 bled off the shelf reached the floor with so much violence 
 that it was burst open. 
 
 Within it, completely bathed in blood, was the disfigured 
 remnants of a corpse. 
 
 Jonathan's heart heaved at the sight. 
 
 But what is it that causes such a sudden revulsion of 
 feeling on the part of the thief-takers ? 
 
 He no longer shrinks bad. as if horrified, but on the 
 contrary bends downwards with the utmost eagerness. 
 
 If is because he sees sparkling with a rare effulgence in 
 that darksome place the coronet «f diamonds which the 
 fond father had presented to his daughter as a nuptial gift, 
 and which, in accordance with her strange desire, Was 
 buried with her. 
 
 It is that which he stoops to pick up. 
 
 As much as possible, he averts bis eyes from the dead 
 body while he does so. 
 
 Then, to his surprise, he finds it cling tightly, and he 
 has to use some degree of violence to disengage it. 
 
 But at last it comes away in his hand, and he holds it 
 so that the rays of the lantern fall with the greatest lumi- 
 nosity upon it. 
 
 Jonathan has not yet got to the end of the horrors of 
 that place. 
 
 He starts. 
 
 His face turns of a jjhaBtlyj sallow hue,
 
 ZZTJZZZTJ : A DC 
 
 37 
 
 The diamonds are dappled in fresh Wood. 
 
 The setting itself is bruised and battered, and clinging 
 to it io a quantity of dark brown hair. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " said Wild, his voice for the nrst 
 iime breaking the silence of that gloomy place. "Are 
 horrors to cover cease ? I see all now as plainly as though 
 I had been vritness to the whole. Would that I had never 
 been tempted to come upon this errand, for this is a sight 
 which, when I am alone and in darkness, I shall never be 
 able to banish from my imagination. It is horrible in the 
 extreme." 
 
 A lascination which he could not resist drew Wild's 
 eyes to the loathsome 6ight upon the floor of the vault. 
 
 " Yes, yes," he said ; " poor thing ! Buried alive ! I 
 can easily understand how her morbid mind, for such it 
 must have been, clung to the idea that her dream would 
 be fulfilled, and so, at the moment, nature gave way, 
 and she swooned. A swoon which her friends took for 
 death. 
 
 " She must have revived, and found herself in her 
 coffin. Imprisoned — in darkness — alone. I cau fancy 
 bow she shrieked for aid when she realized her situation. 
 How she called upon her husband — father — mother — 
 brother — all without result. I can imagine, too, her 
 trantic and futile efforts to free herself. How, as she 
 writhed about, she struck the walls of the strong, leaden- 
 bound coffin till her bleeding limbs were first bruised then 
 broken. It must have been her head, as she struck it 
 against the top and ends and sides which I heard, and 
 which produced the sound for which I was at a loss to 
 account. How terrible must have been her struggle to 
 actually move so great a weight from its position ! It 
 must have taken a long time, and who can picture the 
 extent of her agony the while ? Then, at last, the coffin 
 must have got so placed that but a slight thing would 
 destroy its equilibrium. That was when I heard hergive 
 her death-shriek, as the coffin fell upon the floor. Well, 
 well, after all, I ought to feel glad that I have arrived at 
 1 solution of the horrible affair. If I had not, it would 
 have haunted me to the last day of my existence — as it 
 will now — as it will now." 
 
 It was half to himself that Wild spoke these words. 
 The reader will perceive they were simply the ideas which 
 passed through his mind. 
 
 That be was correct in his conclusions there was every 
 reason to believe. It can easily be accounted for, if we 
 imagine her of an exceedingly sensitive organization. 
 The idea of the so close prospect of marriage would of 
 itself produce a great amount of mental excitation. Then 
 a dream of so extraordinary a character as that wbicli she 
 was reported to have had, would, in such a subject, have 
 a morbific tendency, and, in the end, cause a suspension of 
 nature complete enough to deceive the best medical man 
 in the universe, .vho did not happen to take precedent cir- 
 cumstances into consideration, and so be on the watch for 
 such an event. 
 
 And so, unquestionably, the poor young thing, who one 
 would have thought could scarcely have been worthy of so 
 terrible a fate, was consigned to the grave alive. 
 
 Even Jonathan Wild, brutal as he was by disposition, 
 grew almost pathetic in his words when the suffering she 
 must have endryred were forced upon him. It was pro- 
 bably the first time he had ever felt the sentiment of pity 
 towards any one in his lift . 
 
 Life now, however, was beyond all doubt extinct. 
 
 Well, indeed, was it so, and that the vital spark did not 
 cling to that once fai'" casket, but now bleeding, mutilated 
 mass of flesh. 
 
 Jonathan Wild slowly let the tiara, which he had under- 
 •one so much horror t-^ e'jfcain, drop from his hand. 
 
 Ho felt to tr.ke i': r.vay, covered with blood and mctted 
 with hair as it ■\ras, vouhl be impossible. 
 
 It fell upon Lev for whom it had been intended. 
 
 Cowed and subdued by what had taken place, Jonathan 
 proceeded to quit the place in which he had suffered more 
 agony of mind than he ever had, or most likely ever would 
 in any other. 
 
 As, however, he moved away, he suddenly remembered 
 an occurrence which had yet to be explained- 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AFTER ALL CARRIES OFF THE BRIDE'S 
 D1AMONP TIARA. 
 
 "I hau forgotten," said Wild, in a strange, hushed voice, 
 as he held aloft the lantern above his head, and glanced 
 in a scared fashion about him, " 1 had forgotten that — ■ 
 — some one — a — caught hold of my arm. Who was it? 
 Who was it, I say ? ' 
 
 All was still. 
 
 The fears which Jonathan had with so much diffisulty 
 kept in check now came throBginjr back with tenfold in- 
 tensity. 
 
 And who could wonder at it. 
 
 Surely he must have been something either much more 
 or much less than a man who would, under such circum- 
 stances, have evinced no signs of trepidation. 
 
 That it was not she who now lay so still in death that 
 had seized upon him with such a convulsive grip was 
 tolerably evident. Who then could it have been ? 
 
 Fain would Wild have received an immediate answer to 
 that question. 
 
 But none came. 
 
 Suddenly, however, he gave a start ; the light of the 
 lamp had fallen upon some dark object that looked like, 
 and, yes, surely, must be a human being lying in another 
 part of the vault. 
 
 A second glance showed Wild that he was not mistaken . 
 
 It was a human body, and, by the attire, a male. 
 
 Who could it be that, at that ghostly hour, had followed 
 Wild down the staircase ? 
 
 Was it the husband ? 
 
 Jonathan thought so. 
 
 He drew nearer, and then he recognized the clothing 
 and ttie individual. 
 
 It was Quilt Arnold. 
 
 His presence there is easily accounted for. 
 
 From the moment that Wild entered the church a fierce 
 and ungovernable curiosity arose in his breast to know 
 what it was the thief-taker wanted in the vaults. 
 
 Dread of the consequences that would ensue if Wild 
 found he had left his post for a long time kept him back, 
 but even this failed presently. 
 
 Let the risk be what it might he determined to satisfy 
 himself. 
 
 Now it by no means followed that because he had come 
 to this determination he should take no measure to conceal 
 this dereliction from duty from his master. On the con- 
 trary, he removed his shoes, and with only his stockings as 
 a covering for his feet crept along the aisle of the church 
 in the direction of the stone 6lab which he had assisted in 
 removing. 
 
 He cautiously peeped into the abyss. 
 
 He could neither see nor hear anything. 
 
 But having come so far he determined not to turn back 
 without doing what he wished, so he lowered himself 
 through the aperture even as Wild his master had done, 
 only Quilt, not being near so bulky, accomplished the feat 
 with so much the greater ease. 
 
 He immediately discovered that the steps were thickly 
 covered with sawdust. 
 
 This was most favourable to him, since it amounted to 
 almost an impossibility for his footsteps to be heard. 
 
 He gained the door opening into the vault. 
 
 He peeped in. 
 
 Wild was standing with his back turned towards him, 
 and holding the lantern close to the floor. 
 
 That was when Jonathan was looking for something 
 upon which to stand. 
 
 Then Quilt heard the stifled cry. 
 
 The drumming noise. 
 
 His eyes turned in the direction whence it came. 
 
 He saw the coffin move, and fall off the shelf. 
 
 He heard the frightful shriek as it descended. His 
 brain was pierced. 
 
 Overcome with the intense horror of the scene, he 
 sprang forward at the moment when the lantern fell from 
 Wild's hand. 
 
 Upon the impulse of the moment, upon thus suddenly 
 finding himself in darkness, he grasped Jonathan's arm 
 in the manner we have related, who, as we are also 
 aware, fell backwards like one suddenly struck down by 
 death.
 
 38 
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE, 
 
 Quilt Arnold let go bis hold, and staggered two or 
 three paces, as he thought, iu the direction of the door. 
 
 But before he could tell whether he had 'aken the 
 right direction, he felt his legs give way beneath him, and 
 he, too, lapsed into utter insensibility. 
 
 No sooner did Wild see his officer, than he compre- 
 hended at once all that it has taken us some time to 
 relate. 
 
 Take it for all in all, it was just one of those things 
 which would elicit his utmost wrath. 
 
 The humanizing effect of the scene of horrors he 
 bad passed through was entirely dissipated. He lost 
 sight of everything but rage at this disobeyal of his 
 orders. 
 
 ' : Curse you!" he said, and he dealt the unfortunate 
 officer a couple of fearful kicks in the ribs. " So that's 
 tbe way you treat me, is it ? Get up with you, or curse 
 you, I'll Ah ! " 
 
 A sudden thought .struck Wild. 
 
 He would punish Quilt Arnold in a manner he would 
 never forget. 
 
 lie would leave him in the vault to come to his senses 
 and tret out as best he might. 
 
 Wild was quite himself again. 
 
 He chuckled gleefully. 
 
 " Yes — yes, Mr. Quilt. We'll see how you like waking 
 up and finding yourself in the dark along with the dead. 
 It will shake your nerves a little for you. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Wild's laugti always had a disagreeable sound, but it 
 was more than usually apparent in that place consecrated 
 to the remains of those who were no more. 
 
 His eye again fell upon the tiara, for the gems sent out 
 numerous scintillations of light. 
 
 He had dropped it conscious of some feeling of remorse. 
 
 But now so complete and sudden a reversal of his 
 feelings had takeu place, that, cursing himself for a fool 
 for having dropped it, he took it up again and, notwith- 
 standing tbe loathsome state it was in, stuffed it into his 
 cont-pocket. 
 
 This done he strode towards the door, and passing 
 through closed it carefully after him. Had there been a 
 fastening to it he would have fastened it also. 
 
 His great object now seemed to be to get out of the 
 church with as much celerity as possible. 
 
 Tbe stone he left just as it was. 
 
 " There is a little surprise in store for some one," he 
 said. " I wonder who it will be." 
 
 He pulled the church door to after him. 
 
 But, however careless he might be about leaving traces 
 to show that the church had been broken into, he was 
 especially careful not to identify himself in any of them. 
 
 For this reason he stood in the porch and looked warily 
 around before he ventured to emerge into the grave- 
 yard . 
 
 He listened too to hear if anyone was stirring. 
 
 But at that hour everybody in the village with the 
 exception of himself was fast asleep. 
 
 Finding all quiet he passed down the smooth gravelled 
 walk and through the little gate into the road, along 
 which he walked hastily until he reached the meadow 
 where by his orders the horses had been placed. 
 
 He led out his own and mounted him, and, turning his 
 head in the direction of London, set forward at a sharp trot. 
 
 All the way he went the thought of what a shock 
 it would give Quilt to come to his senses and find himself 
 alone in a vault amused him vastly. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! I fancy I see him now — poor Quilt! If he 
 gets out of that all right, and don't go mad, or anything 
 of that sort, I rather think he will feel more inclined to 
 obey my orders, and not go prying where he isn't wanted. 
 Ha ! ha ! It's a capital joke. I shall tell Blueskin of it. 
 Ha ! r ha ! " 
 
 Wild was never so facetious before. 
 
 But then think of the good day he had had. 
 
 And what was best of all, he had in addition the 
 liamond tiara in his pocket, for returning which he 
 fully expected to extort a sum very far indeed above its 
 value. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD PAYS A VISIT TO HIS PEISONEES. 
 
 It was hard upon daybreak when Wild drew tip in front 
 of big own housa in Newaate-streei. 
 
 He was evidently expected by some one, for as soon us 
 the horse stopped the door opened. 
 
 Ore of his men was on duty named Levee, and, going 
 out, led his master's horse round to the stable. 
 
 Jonathan went straight up stairs. 
 
 lie was weary. 
 
 Entering a room in which the different objects were 
 just visible, he threw himself upon tbe bed, and was soon 
 in a deep, sound sleep. 
 
 It was, however, distuibed by fantastic images, the 
 result of v.-hr.t ho had gone through during the night. 
 
 About ten o'clock he awoke, and, according to custom, 
 took up his station in his office. 
 
 He did a good bit of business, but as it was simply in 
 the trade, it is not worth while to trouble the reader 
 with it. 
 
 The day was closing in when Mr. Wild left his 
 office. 
 
 It was his custom always to stick to business. 
 
 He had half expected to have a visit from Lord Inges- 
 trie, but the day passed quite away, and he did not make 
 his appearance. 
 
 Then, as we have said, he got off his stool and directed 
 his steps towards the upper portion of his house. 
 
 But when he had mounted a few stairs, he paused sud- 
 denly as a thought crossed his mind. 
 
 He placed his hands behind him, and pursued it. 
 
 Then, having come to a determination upon the sub- 
 ject, he slowly walked down stairs again. 
 
 He turned at the bottom, and made his way toward* 
 the cells. 
 
 The man who was stationed at the grating swung it 
 opeu to allow him to pass through. 
 
 " Has Quilt come back yet ? " asked Jonathan, in a 
 surly voice. 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, if you please sir, he has not." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! Shut up. Where's Blue ? " 
 
 "Aint seen nothink of him since late last night, Mr. 
 Wild." 
 
 Wild strode aloug the subterraneous passage from which 
 the cell doors opened. 
 
 " I suppose that Blue and that younjr Sheppard have 
 gone to Hadley's crib at Kilburn ? What's amiss, I 
 wonder, that they don't come back ? It will be awkward 
 if he steals the paper, and it is found upon him. When 
 once its existence is suspected, farewell to that .scheme. 
 And yet 1 think I can trust to Blue. He's my right hand, 
 and no mistake." 
 
 By the time he had done muttering these sentences the 
 end of the corridor, if so it might be called, was reached. 
 
 The blank wall apparently was before him. 
 
 But only apparently. 
 
 Jonathan stooped dowu and pressed steadily on t In- 
 comer of one of the stones with which the passage wai 
 paved. 
 
 A slight grating noise succeeded, and a secret door iu 
 the stone wall swung open. 
 
 Wild passed quickly through the opening and then closed 
 the door again. 
 
 On the side, however, upon which he now was there was 
 no attempt at concealment. 
 
 The door could be plainly enough seen. 
 
 Wild was now in a corridor very similar, so far as 
 general appearance went, to the other one. 
 
 Before one of the cell doors, of which there were several, 
 he paused. 
 
 It was the last but one from the end of the passage. 
 
 The locks all through Jonathan's house were constructed 
 after one model, which enabled him, by carrying a master- 
 key, to open r.ny door he pleased. 
 
 This key he produced, and fitted into the lock before 
 him. 
 
 It was attached to his neck by a steel chain. 
 
 Having unlocked the door, he next procee'ded to with- 
 draw the bolts, of which there were two, one at the top 
 and one at the bottom. 
 
 Then, lifting up his foot, he kicked the door violently 
 open. 
 
 So soon as this was done, ho beard a great rustling as 
 of straw from tho interior. 
 
 Mingled with it was the clanking of a chain. 
 
 Then he heard a voice. 
 
 " Villain ! away — away ! " it said, in horrible screaming 
 accents, " It is in vain ycu come to threaten. Do roue 
 
 <
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE. 
 
 39 
 
 > ypur worst, i say. While I cau use the faculty 
 of speech, I will defy you 
 
 These words seemed to produce no effect upon Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 Or if they did he toot it very coolly. 
 With great deliberation he seated himself upon tne sill 
 of the door. 
 
 And here we should observe that this dungeon, like 
 the rest, had its floor several feet below the level of the 
 passage. 
 
 So as the great thief -taker s.-;t in this rather peculiar 
 position his legs hung down, but did not reach the dun- 
 geon floor. 
 
 As he thus sat, he was en a level with anyone who 
 might be there. 
 
 Jonathan crossed his legs one over the other with an 
 air of indifference, whilo with his right hand he played 
 with that bloodthirsty weapon he called his pet. 
 He fixed his gaze ^pon the inmate of the cell. 
 It was a man — and by several little tokens evidently 
 one of rank — but in such a frightful state of filth and 
 emaciation, that he was terrible indeed to look upon. 
 
 He was secured to tho wall by means of a heavy chain, 
 which was rivetted round his waist. 
 
 Upon hearing the sound of Jonathan's voice, it would 
 appear as though he had been suddenly inspired with 
 strength, for he had raised himself on his hands and 
 crawled as far towards the door as his chain would permit 
 him. 
 
 Strange, indeed, was it, and indomitable and courageous 
 to an extraordinary degree must he have been thus to 
 breathe defiance to Wild, for what means had he of 
 defending himself. 
 
 None whatever. The sound of his enemy's voice had 
 inspired him with a factitious vigour, but he was never- 
 theless entirely at the mercy of the thief-taker. 
 
 And as Jonathan sat in that strange fashion on the 
 stone step leading down to the dungeon, his face assumed 
 an expression such as might well have become a fiend. 
 Two things were evident. 
 
 He treated his captive's menaces and threats with the 
 utmost derision. 
 
 He looked upon his miserable state with satisfaction. 
 Few kindly feelings found a home in the breast of 
 Jonathan Wild, and most assuredly pity for the sufferings 
 of anyone was not one of them. 
 
 On the contrary, almost without exception, he furnished 
 him with matter for delight. 
 
 With the moat careless and indifferent air Jonathan 
 leaned against the upright of the door. 
 
 The mocking smile which distorted his lips fi^d the 
 wTetched prisoner with infuriation. 
 Foam rose to his lips. 
 His eyes burned with vindictive hatred. 
 " Hence, villain ! " he shrieked in his impotent rage. 
 " Hence, villain ! Destroyer of my peace and happiness, 
 begone ! begone ! Spare yourself the trouble of making 
 another attempt to bend me to your hateful purpose, for 
 1 tell you it will be useless — quite useless. I defy you." 
 " Ha ! ha!" 
 
 " You laugh at my defiance and my thvc ■' \ ' 
 " 1 am in a position to do so." 
 
 " But you will not always be, Jonathan Wild, not always. 
 And when you are not beware." 
 
 "Fool ! ' exclaimed Jonathan, who began to lose his 
 patience and his temper at the same time, " idiot that you 
 are not to comply with my demands ! " 
 
 " I will never do it, Jonathan Wild ; you will never do 
 it, and therefore I defy you to do your worst." 
 " Sir Marniaduke Morel, you are a traitor." 
 " And you, Jonathan Wild, are a villain." 
 " Granted that I am, still it does not negative my 
 accusation. I tell you again, Sir Marmaduke, you are a 
 traitor, and as such your life is forfeit to the sovereign you 
 have outraged." 
 
 As Jonathan made this loyal and dramatic speech, he 
 put his tongue in his cheek, and distorted his visa?*? 'ito 
 a frightful leer. 
 
 " What good is it to me to deny it ? Yet, goou or not, 
 so long as I hrve L.eath enough left in my body to utter 
 a denial I will utter it." 
 0" Yo- are a Jr.cobite." 
 
 •' You lie ! to your teeth I tell it— you lie, Jonathan 
 tfild, you lie ! I am not a Jacobite." 
 
 "Ha! ha! " 
 
 "Laugh on, fiend, and mock me until >ou are weary. 
 Full well do you know this charge has only been trumped up 
 against me in order that you may extort money, and rob 
 my children of their inheritance. But this time your plan 
 Will fail, Jonathan Wild — signally fail ; for never, never 
 7-riil I succumb to you." 
 
 "We shall see presently," said Wild, still affecting 
 usoor.cern, r.s, taking a short pipe from his pocket, he 
 bega:i to smoke vritu great deliberation. " You are ob- 
 stina!^, you have held out long, but you will be obliged 
 to give in at last. If you had been wise, you would have 
 done so at first j if you will take my advice, you will do so 
 now." 
 The prisoucr this time was silent. 
 The reaction was coming. 
 
 Excitement hid up to the present moment set his 
 weakness at defiance, but that excitement consumed 
 itself. 
 
 He sank down upon the damp earth of which the floor 
 of the dungeon was composed. 
 
 " You see," said Jonathan Wild, as he noted this cir- 
 cumstance, " I was in the right. You cannot hold out — 
 you must give way. 1 ' 
 
 Painfully the wasted wretch turned over on his side. 
 He spoke, but it was no longer in the wild, screeching 
 manner which had previously characterized what he said. 
 His voice was hollow, and seemed like a strange half 
 moan, half whisper. 
 
 " Jonathan Willi," he said, " you apprehended me on a 
 warrant charging me with being a Jacobite and a participator 
 in treasonous designs against my sovereign. You made me 
 a prisoner, and conveyed me to this noisome place. No 
 one can know better than yourself how entirely without 
 foundation was the charge against me. I was innocent in 
 word and deed. During all the party strife, which has 
 been for so long prevalent, and which cannot fail to bo 
 fatal to the welfare of the kingdom, 1 have kept carefully 
 aloof from the contending parties ; have preserved a strict 
 neutrality. Whatever my own convictions were, 1 never 
 allowed them to transpire. Possessed of a sufficiency of 
 wealth to enable me to maintain myself and family in 
 comfort, 1 sought no more; but anxious for their own 
 comfort and security, withdrew from the wo d, and se- 
 cluded myself far from the haunts of meu. But you, 
 Jonathan Wild, like some foul and venomous reptile, 
 coveted the little which I had, and in the attempt te obtain 
 it have not scrupled to blast my happiness. As I say, you 
 brought me here unjustly a prisoner, and wrongfully 
 accused me, rnd then wished me to make my little all the 
 price for my life and freedom. But no, Jonathan Wild, 
 rather than exheridate my children from that which is theirs 
 unalienabl y 1 would suffer the torments of the damned, and 
 die a thousand deaths !" 
 
 Jonathan smoked on in silence. Neither by word nor 
 act did he attempt to interrupt this long speech from his 
 victim, who has already said enough to give the reader 
 some ideas of the great wrong which he suffered at his 
 hands. 
 
 Still more exhausted, the prisoner lay upon the flooring 
 of the cell. 
 
 And yet only a week before he was robust and strong, 
 but starvation and the darkness and dampness of his dun- 
 geon had literally brought him to the brink of the grave. 
 He was one of the many victims whom Jonathan Wild, 
 under the pretence of their being rebels, contrived to 
 apprehend and lodge in the vaults beneath his house. 
 
 Most people, when in this predicament, had been only 
 tco glad to sacrifice what they had in order to be released ; 
 for, as wo stated in a former chapter, it had become no- 
 torious that should any one be accused by Wild of Jacobi- 
 nism, it was just tantani-unt to being condemned, for con. 
 viction followed in over c. je. 
 
 It wa^ injudicious oa £'io part of the Government to 
 employ such a nan as T, Ld j but no doubt they f ".ought 
 they were acting for the best. At that time things were 
 very different to the present. The country then was filled 
 with malcontent*, who were perpetually hatching fresh 
 I conspiracies. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Osborn was a baronet, which title haa 
 
 been transmitted to him by ] i ancestors who had had 
 
 ■ it bestowed upon them for services Modeled to their 
 
 j country. , 
 
 j Jonathan Wild had fixed upon iiiin as being a likely *
 
 10 
 
 6t.lt fcSKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 subject for him to commit his extortion upon, and, as we 
 have seen, made him a prisoner. The price he set upon his 
 release was that the whole of the estates belonging to Sir 
 Marmaduke should be transferred to him. 
 _ This, the conversation which we have recorded, suffi- 
 ciently shows he had resolutely refused to do, ami he 
 languished a prisoner in that dark cell. 
 
 Jonathan hoped he should tame him by resorting t< rh'e 
 same means as those which are employed to tam- brute 
 beasts; but up to now he bad failed to accompli jb his 
 end. 
 
 Whether ultimately he did so or not will transpire in 
 the course of the narrative. 
 
 And dunug this time the wife and family of Sir Mai- 
 maduke were plunged into the deepest distress and doubt 
 at his inexplicable disappearance; for there was ni thing 
 by which they could trace him to his present abode. 
 
 Observing that his prisoner still preserved his 'ifeleso 
 attitude upon the floor, Jonathan jumped down from his 
 seat, and made his way towards him. 
 
 At his approach, however, Sir Marmaduke shrunk 
 slowly and slowly back, as he would before some furious 
 animal. 
 
 At last he reached the wall, and could go no further. 
 He leant himself against it, and fixed his eyes upon 
 Wild's lace. 
 
 For the life of him, Jonathan could not withstand that 
 steadfast gaze. 
 
 " Are you going to add personal violence to what you 
 have already done ? " asked the prisoner. " Have 1 not 
 suffered enough at your hands ? " 
 
 " Comply with my demands," replied Wild fiercely. " I 
 will not be set at nought by you any longer." 
 
 " I will never comply. A thousand times over, were 
 such a thing possible, would I sacrifice my life rather 
 than I would my possessions." 
 
 " But 1 do not want your life. It is your estates, and 1 
 will have them, too. Besides, you seem to forget that if 
 you are punished as a traitor your goods pass away from 
 your family just the same, and are confiscated to the 
 Crown." 
 
 "Villain! diabolical villain! " murmured the prisoner, 
 as this conviction was forced upon him. " Surely there 
 will come a day when you will have to answer for all 
 this!" 
 
 "' Ha ! ha ! " laughed Wild. " 1 am perfectly willing to 
 take the responsibility of answering for my actions." 
 
 " Time will show that— time will show that. Again, 
 I say, Jonathan Wild, do your worst. I care not." 
 " 1 shall give you till to-morrow to decide." 
 " It is useless. You can take my answer now." 
 'No." 
 
 " I say, yes." 
 
 "You don't know. Not yet have you known the bitter- 
 ness of starvation, but you shall know it. I say again I 
 I give you till to-morrow to decide. I shall come then, Sir 
 Marmaduke, and I hope by that time you will see the 
 wisdom of doing as I desire. If not, I shall at once bring 
 j you to trial, and then your fate is sealed. You shall die 
 ■ as a traitor an ignominious death, and the name of Osborn 
 shall be execrated in all future generations. What you 
 have inherited shall be swept away from fliem. Thus not 
 only do you destroy yourself, but you destroy them also." 
 
 Well was it for the safety of Jonathan Wild that his 
 captive wa.. so powerless as he was. His words excited 
 nim to frer y, and had he been capable of it he would 
 have made a desperate attempt upon the villain's life 
 But Wild knew that he was safe. 
 He waited for a reply. 
 None came. 
 
 '* You are thinking over what I have said, I hope," 
 added Jonathan, after a pause of some moments. " Surely 
 now you must see that it is best. Look, here is a deed 
 transferring your estates to me. It is a legal instrument 
 drawn out to my instructions." 
 
 As he spoke Jonathan took a folded paper from his 
 pocket 
 
 " Sign this,'' lie said, unfolding it, "and you are a free 
 man instantly. You huve yet strength to do it. Come" 
 Sir Marmaduke held out his hand for the paper. 
 With a smile of exultation Jonathan gave it to him. 
 For a moment the unfortunate gentleman looked with 
 fading vision at the paper. 
 Tears filled his ejes. 
 
 Through the mist he fancied he could see his wife and 
 children driven from their homes, wanderers upon the face 
 of the earth, then name bearing the brand of infamy. 
 
 That would be the result if he still persisted in refusing 
 compliance with Wild's demands. 
 
 On the other, although his possessions would pass away 
 from him, yet he would remain. Disgrace would not affix 
 its stigma to his name. He would be able to exert himself 
 for their maintenance, which lie was certainly better quali- 
 fied to do than they. 
 
 He wavered. 
 
 Jonathan observed it, anu already congratulated himself 
 upon the triumph he had achieved. 
 
 But then the conviction of his own entire innocence 
 arose in Sir Marmaduke's mind, and though he knew that 
 his judge would be prejudiced aginst him, yet he thought 
 surely he would noUbe suffered to perish. 
 
 He determined not to barter away his birthright, but to 
 trust himself to a trial. 
 
 Then, to the contusion of Jonathan, his prisoner 
 crushed up the paper which had been given him, and 
 feebly threw it from him. 
 
 "Never — never," he said. " I am innocent. Once 
 more do your worst." 
 
 With these words, a faint spasm convulsed the frame of 
 the unfortunate knight, and, closing his eyes, he fell back- 
 wards as though bereft of life. 
 
 " Confound him," said Wild, as he stamped his foot. 
 " Confound him. But no mattter — no matter. I can 
 wait. He has hesitated, and now I shall conquer." 
 
 He stooped down and shook Sir Marmaduke roughly, 
 but he was quite unconscious. 
 
 " Curse his contumacy ! I never had so much trouble 
 with any one before. Never mind ; it is worth my while. 
 To-morrow I will visit him again, and doubt not that 
 I shall succeed in bringinghim to sign the paper. I will 
 take it and put it back. How he has crumpled it, to be 
 sure." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild picked up the paper, and carefully 
 smoothing it out, put it back into bis pocket. 
 
 He scrambled then up the high steps into the passage 
 beyond. 
 
 Then casting one more glance at the inanimate form of 
 his prisoner, Jonathan closed the door and fastened it 
 securely. 
 
 This done, he retraced his steps, and, reaching the hall, 
 again ascended the stairs. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAR1) AND BLUESKIN FIND IT A MUCH MORE 
 DIFFICULT MATTER TO LEAVE "THE GRANGE" THAN 
 THEY DID TO ENTER IT. 
 
 The strange adventures and proceedings of Jonathan 
 Wild have now for some time occupied our attention, but 
 as he is in no immediate danger we feel it an imperative 
 duty to turn to two other characters, who were, and in 
 whom we hope a greater interest is felt than there can be 
 in the villainous thief-taker, whose conduct in the case of 
 Sir Marmaduke nothing whatever could excuse. 
 
 The two characters to whom we allude are, a3 the 
 reader more than expects, Blueskin and Jack Sheppard. 
 
 It will be remembered that we left them in a position 
 of great peril. 
 
 The servants, satisfied that something was wrong, had 
 crept back silently to the door of their master's room and 
 listened. 
 
 The3 r heard the conversation which had passed between 
 the two burglars, and had therefore little difficulty at 
 arriving at the facts of the case. 
 
 With a boldness for which they deserved commendation 
 they resolved to lay in wait at the door, and as the two 
 midnight intruders passed out pounoe upon them at 
 unawares. 
 
 One of their number, too, they sent to obtain additional 
 assistance. 
 
 It was only for a second that Blueskin lost his piesence 
 of mind. 
 
 ropping the lantern which he held in his hand he 
 clenched both fists, and struck out at his foes. 
 
 But they were many to contend against. 
 
 Very soon, hewever, they found they were getting the 
 wors 1 of it. 
 
 As for Jack, he had not been molested. As Bluf.iku,
 
 [blueskin and sheppard escaping from "the grange."] 
 
 preceded him, he was in time to see tne attack upon his 
 friend and to draw back from the danger. 
 
 But it was with no intention to desert his friend that 
 he drew back : it was to put down the bag of plate, and 
 so soon as he had done so he sprang forward to his assist- 
 
 The sudden rush that he made among the servants was 
 yery effective, and two or three were driven back. 
 
 But, seeing Jack was such a stripling, tlOy made 
 cure it would be a very easy task to obtain a victory over 
 
 But never were appearances more deceptive than they 
 were in this case, and so they quickly found. 
 
 Blueskin quickly enough discovered that he could do 
 little more than shake off his foes. 
 
 This was a state of things that could cot possibly be 
 continued. He felt sure that before long others would 
 I come to their assistance, and resistance would be yam. 
 
 So, waiting for an opportunity, which very quickly oc- 
 
 curred, he drew two pistols from his pockets, and, cocking 
 them, to»k a deliberate aim. 
 
 At the sight of the fire-arms the servants drew back. 
 Like all those who are unaccustomed to them, they 
 dreaded them much more than they really deserved to be, 
 which was owing to the exaggerated idea they entertained 
 of their powers of mischief. , 
 
 "Stand back, everyone of you," cried Blueskin, in a 
 stern voice. " Stand back, or by heaven I wU blow the 
 brains out of the one who does not ! " 
 
 The fierceness and resolution with wliich these words 
 were uttered made the servants involuntarily move a tew 
 steps backwards. , . 
 
 Blueskin was not slow to perceive the advantage he '"Ad 
 gained, and so, like a skilful general, he followed * up 
 and drove them before him down the passage towards KUS 
 
 When he saw the turn matters were taking, Jack extri- 
 cated himself from his assailants, and, re-entering JUK 
 
 »RATIS b witfc this Number, The COLOURED PICTURE of BLUESKIN LEAPS 
 ?"™„V.«.™ ^T.r»*maivr EBIM^. TO EVADE JONATHAN WILD
 
 lit 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Hadley'a bed-room, brought out the bag containing the 
 boot}-. 
 
 The servants shrank back further and further before the 
 muzzles of the pistols, but, just as they were about to 
 beat a retreat they heard their master shout to them to 
 stand fire. 
 
 Mr. Hadley, who had recovered from his swoon, emerged 
 into the passage ; he, too, held a brace of pistols in his 
 hands. 
 
 He took a steady and deliberate aim, and pulled the 
 trigger. 
 
 Jack felt a sudden cessation of pulsation about his heart, 
 and the blood turned cold iu his veins as he heard the click 
 of the pistols. 
 
 But they flashed only in the pan. 
 
 This, doubtless, was owing to the time they had been 
 disused. 
 
 The servants turned and fled. 
 
 Blue-skin turned round suddenly, and fixed one of the 
 pistols along the passage in the direction ot Mr. Hadley. 
 
 A loud report tilled the air, and was succeeded by a cry 
 and a fall. 
 
 " By Jove you have hit him, Blueskin," said Jack, as he 
 looked half terrified around. 
 
 " Never mind him," replied his companion. " Follow 
 me at once. 11 1 mistake not we have by no means got 
 to the end of our difficulties. Quick — quick ! " 
 
 He rushed down the staircase as he spoke, Jack fol- 
 lowing closely at his heels. 
 
 But they did not descend the flight that led from the 
 first to the ground floor. 
 
 A uumber of men were congregated in the hall. 
 
 The servant, who had at the commencement of the 
 affray been sent out for assistance, had returned, bringing 
 a formidable force with him. 
 
 The situation of the two housebreakers was critical in 
 the extreme. 
 
 But Blueskin was prompt to act. 
 
 " Back, Jack ! " he said. " We can't fight against such 
 a lot as that, unless we entrench ourselves somewhere so 
 as to gain an advantage over them. Back — back ! " 
 
 Sheppard had no choice in the matter, so he perforce 
 obeyed the directions given him, and, turning round, re- 
 ascended the stairs. * 
 
 The retreat of the burglars had of necessity an em- 
 boldening influence upon those below, and they rushed up 
 the broad staircase in a tumultuous throng. 
 
 On the second landing Blueskin paused a moment to 
 look round, but perceiving no place where he could make 
 a successful stand, he ran up another and narrower flight 
 of stairs. 
 
 They were closely followed by their pursuers. 
 
 The heavy bag of plunder was a great incumbrance to 
 Jack, but he kept up bravely. 
 
 This narrow staircase was, of course, w T ell adapted for 
 defence, though Blueskin could by no means see lus way 
 to ultimate escape ; lor that they would be able to over- 
 come or even keep at bay, for any length of time, so many 
 foes was beyond the bounds of posibility. . 
 
 As soon as they reached the top of these narrow stairs, 
 Blueskin fired his remaining pistol. 
 
 The men who were ascending were packed so closely 
 together, that the shot could not fail to be most effective. 
 
 A. scene of the greatest confusion followed. 
 
 Then Blueskin flung, in quick succession, both his dis- 
 charged weapons down the staircase. 
 
 It was the best use he could put them to, for he would 
 have no opportunity of loading them again. 
 
 Then, with great rapidity, Blueskin drew another brace 
 of pistols from his pocket, and discharged them simul- 
 taneously, and flung the weapons at the heads of his foes. 
 
 This vigorous and deadly resistance struck a panic into 
 the hearts of the domestics and those who had come to 
 their assistance, and they hesitated to advance. 
 
 At *ho moment when he fired this last volley Bisaskin 
 heard Jack calling to him in a suppressed voice. 
 
 Then a rush of cold air blew upon him. 
 
 Being unprovided with fire-arms, Jack had taken no part 
 in the affray, and therefore turned his attention to the dis- 
 covery of some means of escape. 
 
 The first thing his eyes lighted upon was a ladder resting 
 against the wall. 
 
 immediately over the top of this ladder was a trap-door. 
 
 Quick as thought Jack ascended the ladder. 
 
 The trap-door was secured by a couple of bolts, :mC tnese 
 Sheppard without much difficulty withdrew. 
 
 It was then iK- called to his companion. 
 
 The trap-dooi was, on the outside, covered with lead, 
 and consequently very heavy j but, exerting all his strength, 
 Jack pushed it open. 
 
 As he expected, it was a means of reaching the roof-tops 
 of the mansion. 
 
 Without another moment's delay, and before those below 
 could recover from their panic, Blueskin sprang up the 
 ladder, and was out on to the tiles as soon as Jack was. 
 
 Then with great presence of mind, he, hearing that the 
 men were rushing up the stairs, pulled the ladder up after 
 him, and closed the trap-door. 
 
 Some little time must now elapse before the pursuers 
 could reach the roof, and it was obviously the best policy 
 for our friends to descend as quickly as possible by some 
 other means. 
 
 But this was no easy task : an apparent impossibility, in 
 fact, for neither could at all see how it was to be accom- 
 plished. 
 
 They had not much time to spend in deliberation. 
 
 " There is only one way of doing it, Jack," said Blue- 
 skin, who had made a rapid but careful examination of the 
 roof. 
 
 " And what is that ?" 
 
 " To descend this pipe here in the angle of the building. 
 Do you think you could manage it ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 THE BURGLARS CONVEX THE " SWAG " TO WILD's WARE- 
 HOUSE IN THE HORSEFERRY, WESTMINSTER. 
 
 Jack Sheppard looked rather scared as he contemplated 
 the very hazardous mode of descent proposed by his com- 
 rade, and then shook his head. 
 
 He might well be excused for feeling rather dubious, 
 for it really did not seem possible for a cat to descend. 
 
 In one corner of the. building was an iron pipe, used 
 for conveying the rain-water off the roof to a cistern 
 below. 
 
 In diameter it was about four inches. 
 
 " It is our only hope," said Blueskin, " and we had 
 better risk that than stay here and be taken, as we as- 
 suredly shall be if we delay much longer." 
 
 " We shall ; that's true enough." 
 
 " I will go first, and you can follow me." 
 
 " Agreed ; I would rather you try it first. But what 
 shall 1 do with this bag of swag ? " 
 
 " Oh ! drop it down." 
 
 " But the plate 3 " 
 
 " Oh ! it won't signify if it is bruised a bit. Drop 
 it." 
 
 " Very good," said Jack, and leaning forward he let 
 the bag fall from his hand. 
 
 It was heavy, and fell swiftly. 
 
 It reached the earth with a jingling sound. 
 
 " Now then, Jack, l : m off; watch how I do it." 
 
 Taking every precaution, Blueskin set about com- 
 mencing the perilous descent. 
 
 He laid himself flat on the tiles, and gradually lowered 
 himself until he reached the parapet. 
 
 The edge of this he clutched tightly, and so hung for a 
 moment. 
 
 The iron pipe was within a foot of him, so, cautiously 
 shifting one hand, he at last grasped it. 
 
 Then he shifted his other hand. 
 
 Jack grew dizzy to see him. 
 
 But with the greatest caution Blueskin descended by 
 the pipe. He scratched his hands and knees m the pro- 
 cess, but for such trivialities as those he did not care a 
 jot. 
 
 In a very short, space of time, considering the difficul- 
 ties he had to contend against, he reached the ground. 
 
 But Jack did not wait until his comrade had done this, 
 but when he was only about halfway down had begun to 
 descend also. 
 
 Of the two Jack got down easier, which was owing as 
 much to his slimness as his agility, and, in fact, he was by 
 the side of Blueskin before that individual was aware that 
 he had more than commenced his very perilous journey. 
 
 However, be was glad there was no more delay, for the
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 43 
 
 trampling of many feet told him that the servants were 
 already on the scent. 
 
 " Confound it," said Blueskin, as he picked up the hap 
 aod ran across the yard with it in f io direction of the wall 
 where the rope-ladder was hanging. " Confound it ! This 
 is one of the most troublesome jobs I have ever h~d in say 
 life. Look sharp, or our retreat will be cut off, after all." 
 
 Jack increased his speed, and there was gcod reason 
 that he should do so. for lights were flashing about in all 
 directions. 
 
 Very fortunately the ladder was not far off, and they 
 reached it in a few seconds. 
 
 " Now, Jack, up with you. Quid: ! I will follow." 
 
 " And the swag ? " 
 
 " I'll see to that. I will tie it to the bottom of the 
 ladder, and draw it up after me." 
 
 " Capital ! You would have found it rather difficult to 
 carry up with you." 
 
 It was easy enough to climb up the ladder while 
 Blueskin held it steady, and Jack was soon on the top of 
 the wall. 
 
 While he was going up, Blueskin had tied the bag to 
 the last round of the ladder. 
 
 Then he himself mounted it, and seating himself astride 
 the wall, commenced to haul up the booty. 
 
 But at this moment the servants reached the wall, and 
 one man, who looked like a gamekeeper, or something of 
 that kind, had a double-barrelled gun in his hand. 
 
 " Come down there," he shouted, raising his piece and 
 covering our friends with it, " Cono down, or by heaven 
 I'll blow you both to atoms ! " 
 
 Before he had finished his speech though, Blueskin had 
 drawn up the ladder and lowered it on the other side. 
 
 " Over the wall, Jac!:, and hang by your hands," he 
 cried, as he himself slipped down the ladder, and then 
 follow me." 
 
 Jack did as he was bid, and then arose the report of the 
 gun. 
 
 Its discharge was harmless. 
 
 Before the echo had died away, Blueskin was standing 
 at the foot of the ladder, and he was directly afterwards 
 rejoined by Sheppard. 
 
 Still they were far from safe. 
 
 The plunder though was all right, and so as he con- 
 sidered himself the stronger, Blueskin picked it up, and 
 set off at such a run, that Shepherd had as much as he 
 could do to keep up with him. 
 
 After goincr at this pace for about a hundred and fifty 
 yards, he slackened speed and looked back. 
 
 No signs of pursuit could be seen, so they went on at an 
 easier ra:e. 
 
 The horse which they had left in the lane fully justified 
 Blake's assurance that he would nut stray awa}'. In fact, 
 he was on the identical same spot. 
 
 The bag of plate was thrown into the cart by Blueskin, 
 who mounted and took the reins, while Jack scrambled in 
 after him. 
 
 The horse was refreshed by his halt and banquet in the 
 lane, and, without any incitement, went along at a fast 
 trot that got over the ground in a most surprising manner. 
 
 As they turned the corner of the Edgwn re-road into 
 Oxford street they saw before them, on the eastern horizon, 
 the .Irst faint flush of coming day. 
 
 But still, in the opposite quarter of the heavens, the 
 moon shone with a brilliancy as yet unt .mined. 
 
 To Jack's surprise, instead of making direct for the stables 
 in Long-acre, Blueskin turned off towards Westminster. 
 
 " Where are you going ?" Jack asked. 
 
 " To Jonathan's crib in the Horseferry, where he keeps 
 the swag." 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 RETURNS TO QUILT ARNOLD, WHO WAS LEFT BY WILD 
 IN THE VAULTS BENEATH TOTTENHAM CHURCH. 
 
 H \i.f- ax-hour after Jonathan mounted his horse and 
 rode off towards London, Quilt Arnold began to exhibit 
 some symptoms of returning animation. 
 
 He moved shsrhtly, and a faint groan came from his 
 lips. i 
 
 The two kicks wL.ch Jonathan administered had de- 
 ranged his anatomy a little. 
 
 It was pain, doubtless, that brought him back to life. 
 
 At first he was very confused. 
 
 He felt a terrible aching pain every time he drew his 
 breath or attempted to move. 
 
 Quite at a loss, too, he for some moments tried to 
 recollect where he was and what had happened. 
 
 He opened his eyes and his confusion increased. 
 
 He could see nothing. 
 
 For a moment a horrible idea entered his mind, and he 
 felt his blood grow suddenly cold in his veins, while he 
 turned heartsick with apprehension. 
 
 He fancied he was blind. 
 
 The agony he endured while that th' jght had posses- 
 sion of him was intense indeed. 
 
 And it is not at all to be wondered at that he shculd be 
 seized with such a conceit, for so black was all around 
 tha*' he could perceive no more difference when he had his 
 eyes> open than he could when he had them closed. 
 
 He remained still, and strove to think. 
 
 To recollect what was the last events that had happened 
 to him. 
 
 But so excited and nervous had he become that memory 
 for a time eluded him. 
 
 Gradually, however, came back to him the remembrance 
 of all that had occurred on that to him night of horrors, 
 up to the point where Jonathan uttered his frightful yell 
 and let fall the lantern. 
 
 After that he could remember nothing except Wild had 
 slipped from his hold, and that he had, in a devious, 
 uncertain kind of way, endeavoured to find the outlet to 
 the vault. 
 
 " That is it," he thought, when he had reached this 
 point in his recollections. " I — I am not blind ! but in 
 the vault with the dead." 
 
 And now, when the conviction that he was not blind, 
 and that his inability to see arose only from the fact that 
 there was no means by which a ray of light could enter 
 to dispel the darkness, he grew more composed. 
 
 With much pain and difficulty he raised himself to a 
 sitting posture. 
 
 Then so great an accession of pain came over him, 
 that if his back had not happened to lean against the 
 wall, he must have fallen back on the floor of their vault. 
 
 But this pain was produced only by change of posture, 
 and in a little while its intensity abated. 
 
 Like most others of his profession Quilt never failed to 
 carry about with him a ready means of procuring a light, 
 and now the first thing he did was to feel in his pockets 
 for matches. 
 
 These he produced, as well as a small piece of wax candle. 
 
 The atmosphere in the vault was of so humid a cha- 
 racter, that it was only after a severe struggle that the 
 candle caught light at all, and then the flame was weak and 
 sickly.. 
 
 But Quilt's eyes had become so accustomed to the dark- 
 ness, that to him the feeble light was quite sufficient to 
 illuminate the vault. 
 
 He raised himself to his feet, and then found the acute 
 pain in his ribs had greatly subsided. 
 
 " W-where's Jonathan ?" he asked, as he glared about 
 him, and held the candle so as to make it pretty equally 
 diffuse its rays over the entire vault. "Where's Jona- 
 than ?" 
 
 But, of course, no Jonathan was to be seen. At that 
 moment he was half-way on his road to his own house in 
 Newgate-street. 
 
 Quilt had not yet noticed the coffin. 
 
 That was a little surprise in reserve for him. 
 
 Presently, however, his eyes fell upon the ghastly and 
 loathsome object. 
 
 In his agitation it is a great wonder he did not drop his 
 
 But though it shook about a great deal in his grasp it 
 did not fall . 
 
 " Good heavens !" he said, " what horrible work has 
 Wild been at here! Surely he must be a fiend, for who 
 but a fiend would mangle a corpse thus? What earthly 
 object could he have had, I wonder?' 
 
 From these words of Quilt Arnold the reader will per- 
 ceive he had fallen into a mistake, for upon seeing 'lie 
 disfigured body he very naturally concluded ft mvat be- 
 some of his master's handiwork. 
 
 The more he looked, though, the less proDable this 
 supposition seemed, and then again he asked himself 
 where Jonathan was, and how he came to leave him uj 
 the vault ?
 
 44 
 
 BLUESRIN; A ROMANCE. 
 
 " I must get out of this frightful place," he said, after 
 an ineffectual effort to collect his thoughts. " I must get 
 out of this place, and then, perhaps, I shall be able to 
 think." 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, he made his way across 
 the vault to the iron door. 
 
 When he saw it closed his heart sank suddenly like a 
 lump of ice in his breast ; but, to his joy, he found it open 
 to his hand. 
 
 To spring up the stairs, and through the narrow aper- 
 ture into the nave of the church, was but ths work of a 
 moment. 
 Then he stopped to think. 
 After a while he spoke. 
 
 "Jonathan must have left me there," he 6aid. "He 
 recovered and found I had disobeyed him. That was his 
 idea of punishing me. Bah ! I am not such a fool as to 
 be frightened by dead bodies, though when I saw that 
 coffin move off the shelf and heard Wild yell out I was 
 scared a bit, I'll allow." 
 
 He walked slowly up and down the aisle of the church. 
 
 As he was shoeless, having, as the reader will remember, 
 
 divested himself of that part of his clothing in order to 
 
 approach Jonathan unheard, he glided up and down with 
 
 the silence of a ghost. 
 
 " I can't make it out," he said. " It puzzles me en- 
 tirely ; and yet I should uncommonly like to know what 
 he wanted there, and I will, too, I'll warrant. Who 
 knows it may be something that will place Wild as much 
 in my power as I am in his. That would be glorious. To 
 think of being able to say, ' Be civil, Johnny, or I'll have 
 you hanged at Tyburn next sessions.' He ! he ! Fancy 
 saying that. Oh ! it would be prime ! I should be able 
 to pay off a little then of what I owe him. He ! he ! " 
 
 Quilt was so delighted with this prospect that he for a 
 little while forgot everything that had just taken place, 
 and where he was as well, but he was suddenly recalled to 
 himself by a return of the pain in his side. 
 
 At every breath he drew he felt as though some one 
 stabbed him in the vitals. 
 
 He groaned, and was obliged to seat himself upon a 
 bench that was close at hand. 
 
 The paroxysm was doubtless produced by the laughter 
 he had indulged in, for now he was quiet, and only par- 
 tially inflated his lungs, the pain was much easier. 
 
 " How came I by this hurt ? " he said. " I felt nothing 
 of it when I went into the vault. It must be there then 
 that I received it. But how ? " 
 
 He leaned his chin upon his hands, and strove to 
 think. 
 
 "Could I have done it in my fall? No, I don't think 
 that could be. Stop. Jonathan recovered first — saw me 
 there. All is plain now : it must have been him that 
 mauled me in this fashion. 
 
 " The skin is unbroken," he continued. " What was it ? 
 Has he kicked me, I wonder, with those heavy boots of 
 his ? I suppose so. If he has, it is a mercy my ribs are 
 not broken, and I don't know now but what they are." 
 
 To the best of his belief, however, after making as good 
 an examination as he could, the bones were whole. 
 
 " I must get out of this, and at once, too. I am a fool 
 for having stayed here so long. I dc jot want to have to 
 answer for what Jonathan has done ''own in the vault. 
 But for his treatment of me he shall Lx\&r. I swear it — 
 I swear it ! " 
 
 Wild had raised up another enemy. 
 " I will bide my time, though," he r >' ;d, gloomily, 
 " I will bide my time. Vengeance will .ot p at last, and 
 it will be none the worse for keeping. .Dearly, dearly 
 shall you rue this. Oh ! curses ! curses !" 
 
 Quilt had forgotten himself in his excitenien f , but the 
 pain in his side soon brought him to himself. 
 
 Slowly he dragged himself out of the door of the 
 church. 
 
 He stopped upon the steps to put on his boots. 
 All around him was very still. The wind and the rain 
 had gone-and now it was a calm, fine night. 
 
 Not the faintest breeze seemed to shake the leaves on 
 the yew-trees in the churchyard. 
 
 It was fortunate for Quilt that no one was abroad, that 
 lio curious eye saw him leave the sacred building, or he 
 would have found himself in a ticklish situation. 
 Down the gravel walk— his feet seeming in the stillness 
 
 to make a tremendous noise — he went, and out at the 
 little-swinging gate into the lane. 
 
 " The horses were in the paddock," he said, " but of 
 course Jonathan has taken them with him. Curse him. 
 1 expect I should find it no easy matter to mount. 1 
 must even go as I am." 
 
 It seemed a long walk from Tottenham, but much to 
 his relief he found the pain constantly and steadily 
 abating. 
 
 It was nearly ten o'clock when he reached London. 
 
 He did not repair straight to Newgate-street, but visited 
 a friend of his who had a public-house on Clerkenwell- 
 greec. 
 
 Here he remained during the whole of the day, uncer- 
 tain how to proceed ; but towards night, finding himself 
 almost well, he directed himself to Jonathan's house, 
 and was admitted. 
 
 The first intelligence he received was that Wild had 
 been inquiring after him. 
 
 But other and more important matters must now have 
 our immediate attention. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS INTRODUCED TO WILD'S WAREHOUSE 
 IN THE HORSEFERRY, WESTMINSTER. 
 
 In a former chapter we have already at some length de- 
 scribed the manner in which Jonathan Wild carried on his 
 business transactions in Newgate-street. 
 
 We have seen how Pinching Tom brought him the neck- 
 lace which he had stolen from Lady Ingestrie. 
 
 But although small articles were sometimes in this way 
 brought to Jonathan direct, yet it was not the usual course, 
 nor was it that pursued with plunder of a more bulky 
 description. 
 
 The great thief-taker was by far too politic to keep in 
 his house anything that could compromise him in any way 
 should the authorities take it into their heads to search his 
 domicile. 
 
 In consequence it became a necessity to have another 
 establishment, where the goods could be safely warehoused. 
 
 Acquainted with every part of London as Jonathan was, 
 he soon found a place suitable for his purpose. 
 
 This was a solitary public-house in the Horseferry, 
 Westminster ; then a desolate and fearful place. 
 
 One of his men, who was known by the name of John 
 Oaky, and who was entirely in his power, Jonathan in- 
 stalled in this house ostensibly as its landlord. 
 
 To a casual visitor, and sometimes such did drop in, the 
 house presented in all respects a very ordinary appearance. 
 There was nothing whatever to engender suspicion. 
 
 It was then towards this place that Blueskin directed 
 his cart. 
 
 By the time they arrived at the " Ship and Rainbow" 
 — for such was the sign of the public-house — it was 
 broad daylight, and people were beginning to move 
 abroad. 
 
 Upon hearing the grating of the wheels, John Oaky, 
 the landlord, ran to the door, and, as soon as he saw 
 Blueskin, he precipitately retreated into his house. 
 
 At the side of the building was an opening leading into 
 the yard at the back of the public-house, and down this I 
 Blueskin turned. 
 
 Oaky was standing there waiting to receive them. 
 
 " All right ? " he said, interrogatively. 
 
 " Yes," replied Blueskin, as he scrambled out of the 
 cart. " Where's the ostler ? " 
 
 " Jack will be here in a minute." 
 
 " I am going to stay for an hour or two, so let the horse 
 have a good feed the while." 
 
 " Very good. Are you hurt, captain ? " 
 
 " Just a little, but it is nothing to speak of." 
 
 " And who is this youngster r" inquired the landlord, 
 pointing to Jack, who had also descended from the cart. 
 
 " A fresh hand." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed." 
 
 " You would know his name, John, if you heard it. ' 
 
 " Very likely." 
 
 " And be very much surprised, for his father was an old 
 particular of yours." 
 
 " Who is he, then ? " 
 
 " His name," said Blake, " is Jack Sheppard ! " 
 
 " Sheppard ? " 
 
 " Yes,' r
 
 BLtFESKlN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 45 
 
 " The son of poor Tom Sheppard ? " 
 " He is." 
 
 " Wonders will never cease. Here, Jnck, lad, give us 
 your band ! I'm glad and proud to see you. Why, Joe, 
 now I come to look at him, they're as like as two peatf, as 
 the saying is." 
 
 " They are ; but where's your ostler ? Why don't he 
 come ? " 
 " I don't know. Hi ! Jack, Jack ! " 
 " Here you are, guv'nor." 
 
 "* Look sharp," said Oaky, " take the nag out, and give 
 her a good feed of corn. We'll put the cart under the 
 shed." 
 
 He exchanged a meaning glance with Blueskin as he 
 spoke. 
 
 The horse was taken out of the shafts and led into the 
 6table, while Oaky, going to some large double doors, 
 took a key out of his pocket and opened them. 
 
 Jack looked inside this place with some curiosity, but 
 he was disappointed in his expectations of seeing any- 
 thing remarkable. 
 
 It was a common, tumble-down looking place, Uttered 
 over with straw. 
 
 Between them they easily ran the cart into the shed, 
 and as 60on as they had done so Oaky transferred the 
 key from the outside to the inside of the door, and locked 
 tbem in. 
 
 " Now, Blueskin, where's the swag? " 
 
 " Hush ! Some one may overhear^you. Be cautious." 
 
 " AU right. There's nothing to fear." 
 
 " Here it is, then," said Blueskin, producing the bag 
 containing the plate and other valuables they had stolen. 
 
 " It's a fair lot, any how." 
 
 'Not amiss. But come, don't let us lose time un- 
 necessarily." 
 
 " You trust Jack here ? " 
 
 " With everything. You have no more need to be 
 afraid of him than me." 
 
 " That's the style then. We will soon let him into a 
 secret or two." 
 
 Upon hearing this Jack kept a wary eye upon all that 
 was going to be done. 
 
 In the first place Oaky removed the straw from one 
 portion of the floor of the shed which was formed of square 
 slabs of stone. 
 
 Then taking from his pocket a curiously-fashioned 
 instrument, Oaky next proceeded to insert it into a small 
 round hole in one of the stones. 
 
 He gave it one half turn round and it became fixed. 
 
 As this instrument now formed a kind of handle he 
 seized it with both hands, and exerting his utmost 
 strength, lifted the stone from its setting, disclosing a 
 6teep flight of steps beneath. 
 
 Oaky descended them and held up his hands to receive 
 the bag which Blueskin gave him, and then followed, at 
 the same time telling Jack to do likewise. 
 
 The desire to know something more of the mysteries of 
 Wild's business was very strong in Jack's breast, so he 
 obeyed with alacrity. 
 
 The steps were only six in number, and terminated in a 
 small cellar-like place, which, however, was piled up with 
 packages tied ud and labelled like those in a pawnbroker's 
 wareroom. 
 
 These were articles which Wild anticipated an appli- 
 cation for. 
 
 The temperature of the place was almost like an oven, 
 so that Jack concluded there must be a concealed fire 
 somewhere, though to what uses it was put or intended 
 he could form no notion. 
 
 Besides, his attention was pretty well occupied in 
 watching the proceedings of Blueskin and John Oaky. 
 
 One by one the various objects which had been crammed 
 into the bag were taken out, examined, and sorted into 
 two heaps. 
 
 " There will be uo hope of Jonathan's being able to vc- 
 store these things in safety, and the sooner those that cai 
 be identified are disposed of the better it will be for all 
 parties concerned." 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Blake. In course, in Mr. Wild's ao- 
 sence, I takes my orders from you. Then you would like 
 to have these run down at once ? " 
 
 As he' spoke, the quondam landlord pointed to the 
 largest of the two heaps. 
 
 The axtieles that composed it were for the most part 
 
 the service of plate, upon every piece of which was en- 
 graved the arms and crest belonging to Mr. Hadley's 
 family. 
 
 " Certain]', ,' ' said Blueskin, " there ought to be no 
 delay whatever." 
 
 '•' There shan't be ; they shall be run down at once. I'll 
 carry as many as I can j you and Jack must bring the re- 
 mainder." 
 
 This was done, and between them they contrived to 
 carry it all to a recess at the further end of the vault, and 
 which Jack had not before noted. 
 
 In this recess was fitted a small furnace, and this was 
 the source whence the heat emanated. 
 
 An iron crucible of a very large size was fixed in the 
 top of this furnace, and in it was a quantity of white, 
 molten metal, which Jack rightly took to be silver. 
 
 The pieces of plate were dropped one after another 
 into this crucible, and almost as soon as they came into 
 contact with the liquid they melted away. 
 
 Full an hour passed, nevertheless, before all the plate 
 was melted, or, as Oaky called it, run down. 
 
 In this shape, of course, it was impossible for it to be 
 recognized, and then, when there was a sufficient quan- 
 tity in the crucible, it was run down into very legitimate- 
 looking iDgots, for which Jonathan easily found a ready 
 sale, though where they were actually disposed of was 
 perhaps known to himself alone. 
 
 These proceedings were very interesting to Jack from 
 the fact of their utter novelty. 
 
 When the melting business was quite finished, the trio 
 returned to where the other articles had been left. 
 
 " Make them up into a parcel, and label them as usual," 
 said Blueskin. " My mind is easy now about the plate." 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " There will be a tremendous outcry about to-night's 
 work," continued Blake. " It was a desperate affair. At 
 first everything went well, but afterwards they took a turn 
 just the other way." 
 " Have you been tracked at all ? " 
 I think not ; in fact, I may say I am sure not. And 
 we cannot be recognized by our features, for both of us 
 wore masks." 
 
 " Then you haven't much to fear now," said Oaky, as 
 he placed the new parcel along with the others. " Come 
 along in-doors, and have a meal and a rest, for under the 
 circumstances I don't think it would be altogether wise 
 for you to go through the streets by daylight." 
 
 " Nor I, nor do I feel inclined. I have had no sleep 
 scarcely lately, so I shall take the present opportunity of 
 having a good one." 
 ""That's right, captain." 
 " And you have had no alarm of any kind ? " 
 " Oh ! none at all, tell Mr. Wild. For my part, so long 
 a6 things are done in the way they are now, I don't see 
 how any suspicion is to be roused." 
 
 " Nevertheless, be cautious. It would be a case with 
 us all if this place is found out." 
 " It would, it would." 
 
 Just as they were entering the back door of the public- 
 house, Jack caught hold of Blueskin by the arm. 
 
 " The girl at the ' Black Lion,' the shroudmaker that I 
 rescued. I must see her." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 STEGGS GIVES "HIS LOEDSHIP" A PIECE OF ADVICE 
 WHICH IS IMMEDIATELY ACTED UPON. 
 
 The blow which Jack Sheppard had given his rascally 
 lordship was a very effective one apparently, for not all 
 the united exertions of the watch could restore him to his 
 senses. 
 
 But not so with Steggs, although one would have 
 thought he had had most knocking about. 
 
 Perhaps he was used to hard knocks. 
 
 However, be it how it may, as soon as "his lordship " 
 was lifted off his body, he sat up and rubbed the back of 
 his head with a rueful air. 
 
 "A coach," he gasped, "a coach for myself and his 
 lordship. Five shillings for anyone who will fetch a 
 coach." 
 
 The offer of this reward, coupled with the fact that a 
 lord was in distress, stimulated several to run off m 
 various directions. 
 
 In less than five minutes they heard the rattling (it
 
 46 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 wheels, and one of those crazy old vehicles, the pre- 
 decessors of our modern cab, drew up at the corner. 
 
 By this time Steggs had managed to regain his feet, 
 and by his instructions " his lordship " was picked up and 
 put inside the hackney coach. 
 
 When this was done, and his employer comfoicably dis- 
 posed upon the seat, Steggs himself entered, having first 
 acted up t" his word, and given the man who had 
 fetched *~b\ conveyance the five shillings he had offered 
 him. 
 
 The (Vfe.ch drove off in the direction of Holborn, for 
 Steggs had instructed the driver to take them to the 
 public-house in Middle-row, and then the crowd which 
 had assembled, after spending some time in fruitless 
 speculation, dispersed. 
 
 The little distance between these two places was soon 
 accomplished. 
 
 Still insensible, " his lordship " was carried in by the 
 driver and Steggs, who though a good deal hurt, was not 
 seriously so. 
 
 The landlord recognized his guests again instantly. 
 
 " Get ready your best bed-room immediately," said 
 Steggs, " and send for a doctor. This gentleman and 
 myself have been set upon and almost murdered by a gang 
 of thieves." 
 
 " Yes, sir. The room is ready," said the landlord. 
 " This way, if you please. Straight upstairs, sir." 
 
 " Do you help to carry him," said Steggs. " I am 
 almost as much hurt as he is. And I feel that to take 
 him up stairs would be beyond my powers." 
 
 " Willingly, sir," replied the landlord. 
 
 Steggs now carrying in his right hand a candle, led the 
 way up the staircase, and on reaching the top by the 
 landlord's directions opened a door immediately opposite 
 to him. 
 
 It led into a neatly-furnished chamber, and " his lord- 
 ship" was laid as carefully as they could upon the bed. 
 
 i hen turning towards the driver of the coach and putting 
 half-a-guinea into his hand, Steggs said — 
 
 " Drive to the nearest surgeon's and bring him here at 
 once." 
 
 " All right, sir," said Jarvey. " There's Doctor Taylor 
 ns lives just round the corner of Gray's-inn-lane. Will 
 he do ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes. Bring him at once." 
 
 The hackney coachman, who for once in a way was 
 satisfied with his fare, seeing that it was about four 
 times as much as was legally his due, obeyed with willing 
 alacrity. 
 
 During his absence Steggs busied himself in looking 
 after his own hurts a little, but he found that beyond a 
 few rather severe bruises he was all right. 
 
 He cleansed the dirt from his face, hands, and apparel, 
 and then performed the same office for his employer. 
 
 He had scarcely finished when the landlord, accom- 
 panied by a tall pale young man entered the room. 
 
 " Doctor Taylor," said the former ; and then the young 
 man, without uttering a word, gravely took off his hat and 
 walked to the bedside. 
 
 The administration of some volatile stimulant caused the 
 nobleman to open his eyes and groan. 
 
 The first object upon which his gaze rested was his 
 accomplice Steggs, and that seemed to give him the clue 
 to all that had passed. 
 
 He had, however, sufficient presence of mind not to 
 make any remark. 
 
 His lordship's face was terribly damaged by the blows 
 Jack had given it, but when the doctor had carefully 
 sponged it with warm water there did not seem to be much 
 the matter. 
 
 ' Our enterprize failed, Steggs," said his lordship, as 
 coon as the doctor and the landlord had retired. " How 
 was it ? What fiend mauled me in this way ? " 
 
 "That, your lordship, is I regret to say more than I can 
 >ell you. The attack was so sudden and unexpeated 
 that I could not see by whom it was perpetrated." 
 
 " But I did, Steggs. I did." 
 
 " Who was it, my lord ? " 
 
 " A boy ! V stripling that looked as if he could be 
 knocked down with a reed. It was the same who W&S 
 sitting in the room down stairs when you entered. 
 
 " Indeed," said Steggs, in a tone of voice that boded no 
 good feeling towards Jack. " I am glad I know who it 
 
 is, I shall be able to pay him off and punish him for his 
 interference." 
 
 " Ha ! Steggs," cried his lordship, struck by a new 
 thought. " His interference P Why should he interfere ? " 
 
 " 1 know not, unless" 
 
 " Unless what ? " 
 
 •' Unless he managed somehow to overhear our con- 
 versation." 
 
 " He must have done so ! Perhaps ho knows all — 
 has already told the girl ? Oh ! Steggs ! I am ruined — 
 lost ! " 
 
 " Not so, my lord ! not so ! You are in danger — 
 imminent danger of having all discovered, but if we are 
 prompt, we may yet be in time to carry out our purpose. 
 If you will remember, my lord, I have been especially 
 careful not to mention you by name, so that, in all proba- 
 bility, the meddling young fool is in ignorance of it ! " 
 
 " We will hope so, at any rate ! " replied his lordship, 
 much relieved, " and yet he may have recognised me P 
 Who knows ? I don't think he did though, now I come to 
 think." 
 
 " Have you any reason for holding that opinion ? " 
 
 " Only this, Steggs, he looked very curiously at me 
 when he entered, and regarded me as though I was an 
 utter stranger." 
 
 " Why, then all is well. The information he has 
 already acquired will avail him but little, even supposing 
 he listened to the whole of our interview, which I think 
 is scarcely possible." - 
 
 " But what are we to do, Steggs ? " 
 
 " Do, my lord ? " 
 
 " Yes, do." 
 
 " Only one thing I conceive, and that " 
 
 "Goon." 
 
 " That, my lord, I ana afraid we shall find rather 
 difficult." 
 
 " It is to obtain possession of the girl." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " But how are we to do it ? Where is she ? " 
 
 " That, my lord, is the difficulty of which I spoke. Of 
 course I have no more clue to her whereabouts than you 
 have ! " 
 
 His lordship sprang up in bed. 
 
 " We must find her, Steggs, we must find her, if we 
 search every house there is in London. Or that which I 
 have so sinned for to obtain will, after all, elude my 
 grasp, and " 
 
 " Do not look upon it iu that light, my lord. Instead 
 of despairing, let us hope ! As yet, a short time only 
 has elapsed. Let us commence our operations without 
 delay." 
 
 "That is good advice, Steggs! good advice! Curse 
 the villain, he has made me so stiff and sore that I can 
 hardly move ! " 
 
 " And I, my lord ! I have said nothing about my hurts, 
 but they are both serious and painful." 
 
 " Xever mind — never mind ! I can find you a plaster 
 for every one of them." 
 
 " You are very good, my lord." 
 
 "Only get those two persons into my power, and then 
 you may name your own reward ! ' 
 
 The eyes of the villain Steggs glistened with cupidity, 
 as he heard these words. 
 
 " It is good as done, my lord ! Two persons, did you 
 say ? " 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " The girl ? " 
 
 " She is one, the other is the fiend that baulked me 
 in my designs, and battered my body ! " 
 
 "Do not fear for him, my lord. I have a personal 
 feeling in that matter." 
 
 " So much the better ! I will make him live to re- 
 member and regret the day he took it into his head to 
 interfere with me ! Curse him ! I ache from head to 
 foot ! " 
 
 " Best satisfied, my lord," said Steggs, " you shall have 
 such a revenge upon him as shall fully satisfy you. It 
 galls me to the soul to think an urchin like that should 
 hn?ve overcome the pair of us ! " 
 
 " He took us by surprise, and that is half the victory." 
 
 " True ; but his muscles must be like steel. His blows 
 i came down like hammers." 
 f " I wonder how long it will be before I cap set out.
 
 3LUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 4/ 
 
 Steggs ? " asked his lordship, after a brief interval of 
 silence. I don't like the idea of being here idle." 
 
 " That depends upon yoirrcelf. I think if you will tryto 
 sleep till morning you will then, by an effort cf your will, [ 
 be able to get up and go about as usual." 
 
 " I will do so — I will do so ! " 
 
 " Believe me, it will be the best." 
 
 " And you, Steggs ? " 
 
 " I, my lord, must find some place where I can repose 
 my limbs a little. I am more used to hard knocks than 
 you, and don't feel them so much, but I think, of the two, 
 I came decidedly the worst off in the encounter." 
 
 For once, we must coincide with Mr. Steggs. 
 
 " Well — well, be it so. I know, by myself, that you 
 must want rest. But let us be stirring in the morning 
 early." 
 
 " Do not fear for that." 
 
 " Good night, Steggs. The landlord will find you 
 another room." 
 
 " Thank you, my lord, and now, if you would allow 
 me to give you a piece of advice, in the shape of a 
 suggestion." 
 
 "Speak out! What is it?" 
 
 " We shall have,, you may be sure, the greatest possible 
 difficulty in finding out the retreat of the two persons of 
 whom we are in quest, if we have nothing to guide us. 
 Now, my lord, there is a man in London who, in con- 
 sideration of a sum of money, will place these persons in 
 our hands in less than twelve hours." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " It is true, nevertheless." 
 
 " And who is this man, Steggs ? What is his name ? " 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 IN WHICH HIS LORDSHIP COJIES TO A PERFECT UNDER- 
 STANDING WITH THE GREAT TIUEF-TAKER. 
 
 "Jonathan Wild," repeated his lordship, " surely, Steggs, 
 I have heard that name ? " 
 
 " Most likely, I should think. He has been making 
 himself rather notorious lately." 
 
 " But he is a thief-taker, is he not ? " 
 
 " That is one portion of his avocation, but he by no 
 means confines himself to that." 
 
 " I have heard but little about him, Steggs, and that 
 little was by no means to his credit. I was told he always 
 managed to wreak ill on all those who became in any way 
 connected with him." 
 
 "Pho! pho ! my lord, place no credence in that. It is 
 the misfortune of all great and successful men to have 
 base detractors." 
 
 " It is. And so, Steggs, you would advise that we 
 obtained Wild's co-operation in this affair ? " 
 
 " Most certainly, my lord." 
 
 "Well, well, you ought to know best. But leave me 
 now. I will think of it — I will think of it." 
 
 " Do so." 
 
 "We cannot see him before the morning, so there is 
 plenty of time to decide." 
 
 " There is. I will, then, with your lordship's permis- 
 sion, seek an hour or two's rest." 
 
 " Call me at eight, Steggs. I will get up then, come 
 what will." 
 
 " Very good, my lord," said Steggs, pbseqiously, as he 
 closed the door. " Good-night, my lord." 
 
 " Good-night." 
 
 " It will go hard but I make something out of this 
 affair," muttered Steggs, as he sought the landlord, "very 
 hard, indeed. I, too, will reflect, for, after all, it may not 
 be politic to take Jonathan into our confidence. He is a 
 villain, but that's nothing. ■ He would not scruple to 
 betray anyone, and that is a great deal. I must think — I 
 must think." 
 
 But Mr. Steggs made one little mistake, he should have 
 thought before he broached the suggestion ; for i 
 morning, when, according to instructions, he awaked his 
 lordship, that gentleman very decisively expressed his 
 determination to act upon the advice given him. 
 
 Now Steggs had ccme to the conclusion that he had 
 not taken the wisest step for his own interests, but it was 
 too late to draw back, or, if he had made an attempt even, 
 ;t would have at once excited surprise, if not suspicion, 
 
 for upon every other occasion he had always made a point 
 of instantly acquiescing with his employer's opinions. 
 
 " You must take me to Jonathan Wild's at; once," he 
 amid, as soon as he had partaken of a hasty breakfast. " Is 
 it far from here ? " 
 
 " Quite close at hand, your lordship ; but your face " — 
 
 rt Oh ! never mind that. I will call at the first chymists 
 W<6 come to, and get him to dress it for me. Such a 
 ( .' .iviality as that must not have power to keep me back 
 when anything so important as the capture of this girl is 
 going forward. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " I am always ready," said Steggs, bowing low, " and 
 willing, too, whenever your lordship requires me." 
 
 A smile of contempt came to his lordship's lips, but 
 when Steggs raised himself to an upright position it had 
 disappeared. 
 
 " Let us start, then, immediately," he said, "the less 
 time there is wasted now the better." 
 
 Accordingly, in about two minutes afterwards, this 
 precious pair were on their way to Little Newgate, whither 
 we will precede them. 
 
 For once in a way, Jonathan came down to his office 
 nearly an hour before his usual time that morning. The 
 fact is, he expected to do more than an ordinary day's 
 work. 
 
 He was anxious, too, to learn what had ensued upon 
 the discovery of the sacrilege at Tottenham Church. 
 
 In these days of rapacious penny-a-liners, we should 
 have had several columns in print about it at breakfast- 
 time, but then the newspaper pr.ess was quite another 
 affair. 
 
 No, Wild did not look for any printed intelligence of the 
 affair, but he fully expected that he would be immediately 
 communicated with. 
 
 The blood-stained tiara was still in Jonathan's pocket, 
 and in the one on the other side of his coat was Lady 
 Ingestrie's diamond necklace. 
 
 This little affair he fully expected to bring to a termina- 
 tion this morning, so that, with two such important pieces 
 of business upon his mind, it is no wonder that Wild 
 seated himself at his desk much earlier than was his 
 wont. 
 
 Then, again, there was the affair between him and Sir 
 Marmaduke. 
 
 He was uneasy, too, about the non-arrival of Joe Blake. 
 It was something very out of the way for him to fail in an 
 expedition, but as he did not come, Jonathan began to 
 dread the worst. 
 
 While these thoughts were passing through his mind, 
 Jonathan assumed a favourite attitude. 
 
 He placed his elbows on the desk, and holding the palms 
 of his hands together, rested his chin in them. 
 
 " Let me see," he said, " I ought to expect Lord 
 Ingestrie here first. Now shall I restore him his neck- 
 lace, or put him off for a day or two longer ? Which will 
 be safest, I wonder ? I must be guided by circum- 
 stances." 
 
 As he spoke he dived his hand into his pocket, and drew 
 the necklace forth. 
 
 " A very pretty little ornament, that's certain. Rather 
 old-fashioned, though. I should not care to give three 
 thousand pounds for it myself, though he must if he 
 wants it back." 
 
 At this moment some one tapped gently at the office 
 door. 
 
 " Talk of the ," said Wild, as he lifted up the lid of 
 
 his desk, and slipped the necklace into it. "Come in!" 
 he shouted in his most ferocious tones. 
 
 It was Touks who had tapped at the door, and just pro- 
 jecting his nose into the apartment, he said — 
 
 " If you please, Mr. Wild, there's two gentlemen as 
 want to see you on particular and private business." 
 
 " Where, villain ? " 
 
 " They are in the hall, if you please, sir." 
 
 " Then bring them in at once, and be hanged to you ! 
 How dare you keep them waiting ? " ' 
 
 Tonks disappeared, and in another moment returned, 
 ushering in that individual who as yet we know bv no 
 other uame than " 's lordship," and his companion in 
 evil, Steggs. 
 
 Jonathan was rather disappointed when his eye fell 
 upon his visitors, for he fully expected it would be Lord 
 Ingestrie.
 
 48 
 
 8LUE5EIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Tonks lost no time iu closing the door, and leaving his 
 imperious master and his visitors alone. 
 
 With a horrible contortion of the facial muscles, wnich 
 en Jonathan's countenance did duty for a smile, he spoke — 
 
 "Good morning, gentlemen," he said. " In what way 
 can I be of service to you ? " 
 
 For a moment this question was unanswered. 
 
 His lordship felt rather embarrassed. He scarcely knew 
 how to approach the subject. 
 
 Steggs was silent. Without instructions from his em- 
 ployer he, of course, could not venture to say anything. 
 
 At length his lordship spoke. 
 
 " Mr. Wild," he said. 
 
 Jonathan made a bow and a grimace, which said as 
 plainly as though his lips had articulated the words — 
 
 " \ es, that is me. What do you want ? " 
 
 At any rate, his lordship so interpreted it, for he went 
 on, — 
 
 " The business upon which I have come to obtain your 
 co-operation, is secret and important. Can I confide in 
 
 you 
 
 " You cau, my lord." 
 
 " How ? " exclaimed his lordship, and evidently, by the 
 tone in which he spoke, more surprised and chagrined 
 than he was delighted, " do you know me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly well," said Jonathan. " You are Lord " 
 
 " There — there ! that will do ! " said his lordship, 
 hastily interrupting him, " there is no occasion for men- 
 tioning my name." 
 
 " As you please, my lord. But you asked me a rather 
 unusual question, that is, whether you could confide in 
 me ?" 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " Well, then, to save time, I will simply assert that you 
 can confide in me freely, and without fear. Indeed, if 
 you would allow me to advise " 
 
 Jonathan broke off suddenly. He wanted to feel his 
 way. 
 
 " What is your advice, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Simply this. When you do confide in me, do so 
 without reserve. Keep nothing back. The importance 
 of the pursuance of this policy with either your doctor 
 or your lawyer is well known. It is more important still 
 that you should pursue that policy with me." 
 
 " Well — well ; perhaps so. Listen to me, Mr. Wild, if 
 you please. I daresay you will find what I want you to do 
 an easy enough matter." 
 
 " I am listening with the greatest attention, my lord," 
 said Wild, as he took up a pen and a sheet of paper, for 
 he always [made notes of what was said to him, though, 
 as he did this in cipher, they were legible to no one but 
 himself. 
 
 " You must know, in the first place, that a few days 
 ago a. young girl, of whom I wished to get possession, 
 resided in Charles-street, Drury-lane, and obtained a 
 livelihood by working for a Mrs. Roblet, of No. 16, 
 Princes-street, Lincoln's-inn-fields, whose occupation is 
 that of a shroudmaker./ 
 
 " Just so, your lordship, I quite understand so far. 
 Pray go on." 
 
 " Having resolved to carry her off, I sent my con- 
 fidential servant, Steggs, here, to make inquiries respect- 
 ing the time she left her place of work, and so on, in 
 order that we might concert measures for the execution 
 of our design " 
 
 ference there, and, secure of not being overheard, talked 
 freely of the matter. 
 
 " The end of it was that we resolved to carry the girl 
 off that very night, for Steggs had ascertained that she 
 always left her work at a little after nine o'clock. 
 
 " We chose the corner of Gate-street and Great Queen- 
 street for the place to lay in ambush, and accordingly made 
 our \~ray there at once. 
 
 "A hackney coach was hired, and by Steggs' instruc- 
 tions drawn up in the square, while w6 s^od near those 
 iron railings at the corner of the street wnieh I daresay 
 you have noticed." 
 
 " I know the spot perfectly well, my lord, and I must say 
 that scarcely a better for your purpose could be found in 
 all London." 
 
 " The information which Steggs had obtained turned 
 out to be perfectly correct, for just after the clock in the 
 Old Square, Lincoln's-inn, had struck the hour of nine we 
 heard a light footstep rapidly approaching us, and then 
 as she passed under a lamp I saw her features. It was 
 the girl I sought ! " 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 " We sprang forward, and made her a prisoner so sud- 
 denly that she scarce knew what had happened. I was 
 felicitating myself upon the success which had so far 
 crowned our expedition as we bore her rapidly towards 
 the hackney coach, when we were taken aback by a horrible 
 yell, and then were assailed with the greatest fury by some- 
 one. 
 " Steggs was the first to fall. 
 
 " Then this unknown assailant grappled with me, and 
 to defend myself I had to let go my hold of the young 
 girl. 
 
 "To be brief, I was worsted by this fellow, for his 
 strength seemed something supernatural, and I carry now 
 the marks of his blows. However, before I lost all con- 
 sciousness, I saw and recognized him. It was the lad 
 who looked so curiously at me while a't the public- 
 house." 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " Yes. He must have managed in some way to over- 
 hear our conversation, and so thwarted my plans. Now 
 the girl I must have at any risk, and that at once. The 
 lad as well must be found, and then I will settle accounts 
 with him." 
 
 His lordship then proceeded with the aid of Stegg3 to 
 give a minute description of the shroudmaker. 
 Afterwards of the lad. 
 
 So correct was this latter one, that when he had written 
 it J onathan muttered — 
 " Jack Sheppard by all that's damnable ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND JONATHAN WILD HAVE A SLIGHT 
 DISAGREEMENT. 
 
 In a moment now Jonathan Wild connected Sheppard's 
 non-appearance, and, being mixed up in this affair to- 
 gether, made one event account for the other. 
 
 The reader will not fail to have perceived that, though 
 his lordship had given Wild what appeared to be a very 
 circumstantial and candid account, yet it was not a correct 
 one, since he had made no mention of the relationship 
 which existed between himself and the young girl. 
 
 It is not surprising that he should have hesitated or 
 
 Wild nodded. I altogether shrunk from putting Jonathan in possession 
 
 " We arranged that Steggs should meet me at a public- f of so tremendous a secret ; and therefore he led the great 
 
 house in Middle-row, Holborn, and accordingly, about 
 half-an-hour before the appointed time, I repaired thither, 
 and sat down in the public room to wait his arrival." 
 
 " Scarcely had I seated myself, than there entered a boy, 
 I was going to say, for such anyone would take him to be 
 at first sight, though I should think his age must have 
 been about twenty or twenty-one." 
 
 " I suppose," said Wild, "that this all bears upon the 
 case 
 
 thief-taker to suppose that his motive for abducting the 
 young girl was because he had taken a fancy to her. 
 
 Jonathan was used to affairs of that sort, so he at once 
 took it for granted that that was what his lordship wanted 
 with the young girl. 
 
 " And this took place last night, you say/' 
 
 His lordship nodded. 
 
 " London is a large place, but I think I may give you 
 ihe assurance that in a day or so the girl will be in your 
 
 Oh! certainly. Well, I waited in the room somte hands, and the lad as well. But there' is one little point 
 
 time, and this lad sat there also near the fire. At last 
 Steggs came, and he began to tell me the result of his 
 errand when I stopped him, for I perceived this lad was 
 trying his best to listen to what we had to say, and this, 
 of course, I wished to keep a secret. 
 " Perceiving this, I say, I asked for a private ror m, and 
 
 ..was shown to one on the first floor. We had our con- set upon this sen-ice ? " 
 
 which has not yet been taken into consideration.' 
 
 " What is that, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, it will not be possible for me to prose- 
 cute these inquiries for your lordship without expending 
 money." 
 
 " Of course not. Now, Mr. Wild, what value do you
 
 BLTJESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 F JONATHAN WILD IS CHASED BY THC T«A1*ES POUCC". 
 
 " Well, 1 can hardly say. Tt depends upsu many cir- 
 cumstances. I should think about five hundred pounds." 
 
 " Five hundred pounds, Mr. Wild. That is a very large 
 am of money." 
 
 " I am well aware of it, my lord. But I suppose you 
 vant this girl." 
 
 "I must have her," he replied, vehemently; "let the 
 iost be what it will." 
 
 " Very good. Then my demand is ridiculously small. 
 However, as I have said it, I wont run back from my 
 word. Write me out your promise to pay me five hun- 
 dred pounds upon the consummation of the affair, and I 
 guarantee to place the girl in your hands in less than 
 forty-eight hours." 
 
 His lordship hesitated a moment, when Wild gave him 
 the pen, but upon second thoughts he wrote it, and 
 Jonathan carefully folded it up and put it into a compart- 
 ment of his pocket-book. 
 
 A grim smile came over the thief-taker's face. He 
 imagined the five hunaLred pounds as good as earned, for, 
 
 of course he made sur that Jack would not hesitate to 
 tell him where the girl was to be found. 
 
 But in this he reckoned without his host 
 
 " It's as good as done, my lord," he said. " You need 
 trouble your mind no more about it. It's a pity you did 
 not come to me in the first instance; but, however, 3 
 does not signify further than that by this time your lord- 
 ship would have achieved the object of your desires." 
 
 " I shall leave you then with that assurance. Only 
 perform your promise, and I shall not be particular to a 
 few pounds extra. Good morning, Mr. Wild, 
 
 Jonathan banged his cudgel on the desk. 
 
 Tonks appeared in answer to the summons. 
 
 " Show these gentlemen to the door, villain." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Oh ! yes, sir. This way, gentlemen 
 if you please." 
 
 As the office-door closed after his viewT^*, Jonathan 
 assumed his former attitude. 
 
 " Let me think," he said ; " let me think. There « 
 more in this affair than meets the eje, I feel convince*, 
 
 No. 7. 
 
 GRATIS with this Number, The COLOURED PICTURE of THE BURNING OP 
 ■w-F-arnaT-F! Tk-rnj-no-n tttt ttwr nr> tttt! T.nf».Ti m?.ma.n~p. n.nT?.TMTKT -rtcitg!
 
 50 
 
 ILTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, too ! By what chance is he mixed up in " Just count those, then i 
 I mui uestion him when he returns, and learn all right." 
 
 I think you will find them all 
 
 from him, a; well as where the girl is at tho present 
 moment. Thi j will be another good day, I can see." 
 Tap— tap. 
 
 " More visitors," said Wild, as he twitched bis wig over 
 his eye:. " More grist to tbe mill. Ha ! ha ! " 
 This time it was Lord Ingestrie. 
 
 He looked pale and anxious. He bad had some diffi- 
 culty in raising the money Wild demanded for the restora- 
 tion of the necklace. 
 
 " You don't look well, my lord," said Jonathan. " I am 
 afraid you have been worrying yourself about the necklace. 
 It was quite unnecessary, I can assure you." 
 
 " No, no. It is not that. It is the trouble I have had 
 to get the money." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " Yes. But I have managed it. And now, how have 
 you succeeded ? " 
 
 " Indifferently well, my lord, indifferently well. My 
 men found out indirectly who had it, and made overtures 
 for its return." 
 
 " And the result ? " 
 
 " Well, my lord, the result is not quite as I expected. 
 It must have got wind that your lordship set an intrinsic 
 value upon it, for they are more extortionate than I 
 thought they would be." 
 
 " Then never mind. It must go." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 "Yes. I have already had the utmost difiiculty in 
 getting together so large a sum. I am sorry I troubled 
 you at all in the affair." 
 
 " Oh ! pray don't mention that. My trouble has been 
 nothing, as I may say, but what it has been your lordship 
 is heartily welcome to." 
 
 " And now, just for curiosity, what does the miscreant 
 ar \ for restoring the stolen article ?' I mean how much 
 money." 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 " How much is it ? " 
 
 " Three thousand five hundred guineas ! " 
 
 " Three thousand " 
 
 " Five hundred." 
 
 " Why, you said at first, offer four thousand." 
 
 " I know I did, but your lordship thought that rather 
 unreasonable, and it was afterwards settled at three." 
 
 " So it was ; but I had, nevertheless, counted upon four, 
 and that is the sum I have raised." 
 
 " Then," said Wild, who had the greatest possible difii- 
 culty in concealing his exultation, " do you feel inclined to 
 give the amount named ? " 
 
 " I certainly don't feel inclined, but still " 
 
 " You would not like such a thing to go out of your 
 possession ? " 
 
 " I should not, Mr. Wild, and that is just it." 
 
 " Then the better way for you will be to give the 
 money." 
 
 " And can't I bring the fellow to law ? " 
 
 " Oh ! impossible ! " 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " I don't know who he is." 
 
 " But your man, who has managed the business so 
 for?" 
 
 " Has not seen the actual person, but a go-between." 
 
 " How confoundedly cautious*"' 
 
 " It is necessary to be so, my lord, when you have a 
 nooze dangling over your head." 
 
 " Of course, of course." 
 
 " I told my man to offer the three thousand, but as that 
 offer was not accepted, and five hundred more asked, I 
 could not do anything until I had seen you." 
 
 " No, no." 
 
 •" For I did not know whether you would be willing to 
 give that amount." 
 
 "I suppose it must be so," said Lord Ingestrie, with 
 a sigh, as he drew forth a plethoric pocket-book, and 
 began counting out some notes. 
 
 ' 11 vexatious," said Wild, sympatnizingly, " to have 
 to part with so large an amount to get back one's own 
 property, is it not ? " 
 
 "You are right, it is; I feel it. I suppose, thougn, 
 'here is no choice in tho matter." 
 
 '''•2'Tone at all." 
 
 * The.- are quite 
 counted the notes, 
 
 right," said Wild, who rapidly 
 'and now about your lordship's 
 watch ? " 
 "Ah! where is that?" 
 
 " I have no idea ; I cannot get the least trace of it. 
 But make your mind easy about that ; I will get it back 
 for you sooner or later." 
 
 " I am glad to have such an assurance. And now, Mr. 
 Wild, in spite of your deprecation of your trouble you 
 must have had a good deal, and the business cannot have 
 been managed without putting you to some expense. 
 Now what is your charge for all this." 
 " Nothing." 
 "Nothing?" 
 
 " Nothing ! " repeated Wild, emphatically. 
 " But did I not understand you to say that the three 
 thousand fire hundred pounds was the exact amount you 
 would have to give ? " 
 " Such is the case." 
 " Then how are you to be paid ?" 
 " Oh ! I have my salary as a chief police-officer." 
 " I am aware of that, but it is always usual for something 
 extra to be charged." 
 
 " I know that, but my sole desire is to serve your lord- 
 ship. I very much regret you should have to pay anything 
 at all, and I could not think of taking anything from you 
 myself." 
 
 " Tut, tut ! " said Lord Ingestrie, who was completely 
 deceived by Wild's apparent magnanimity. " Tut, tut ! 
 I can't allow you to have all your trouble for nothing." 
 
 " Of course," said Wild, with a hypocritical whine, " it 
 would be rude and ungrateful on my part were I to refuse 
 to accept anything your lordship might be pleased to give 
 me in recognition of my services." 
 " To be sure it would. Now what shall it be ?" 
 " Oh ! my lord, I could not think of naming anything 
 for a moment. That I must leave entirely with you. 
 You may rest assured that I shall be completely satisfied 
 with anything that your lordship may be pleased to give 
 me." 
 
 " But I hardly know how to estimate your services. 
 Beyond the bare fact of knowing that you have found out 
 the stealer of the bracelet, and arranged with him to 
 return it for a certain sum, I know nothing. However, 
 I shall be very glad if you will accept of this fifty pound 
 note." 
 
 " You are too munificent," said Wild, " by far too muni- 
 ficent." 
 
 " Not at all. I would a thousand times rather give any 
 amount of money away than I would have it extorted 
 from me." 
 
 " And so would I, and so of course would everyone 
 else." 
 
 "That, then, is settled. And now, Mr. Wild, how 
 about the necklace ?" 
 
 " Well, you can either meet the person who is to give it 
 up, or you can come here for it, whichever you like best. 
 I should prefer tbe former." 
 " Why, Mr. Wild ? H 
 
 " Oh ! for no very particular reason, except that you 
 would see that I had represented things to you just as 
 they actually are." 
 
 " I do not doubt you for a moment, and if you will 
 allow me I will in preference call here for the neck- 
 lace." 
 
 " As you like, my lord." 
 
 " You can meet this intermediate party and get it back. 
 To tell you the truth, I have no desire to face them." 
 
 " Perhaps it is best not. They are always on the look 
 out for treachery." 
 
 " I suppose so, and therefore I will call here, and receive 
 it from you. When shall I come ? " 
 
 " To-morrow morning at this time, if you please, my 
 lord. I hope you will accept of my thanks for the liberal, 
 very liberal present you have made me, and believe that 
 I shall be always grateful." 
 
 " Say no more," said Ingestrie, as he prepared to quit 
 Wild's office. " Your behaviour throughout the whole oi 
 this affair has been praiseworthy in the extreme." 
 
 " I am not a little delighted," said Wild, "that I should 
 have been fortunate enough to win the good opinion oi
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 51 
 
 your lordship. As for your watch I will make it a point 
 of honour of getting it back for you?" 
 
 " Thanks ! You may rely upon my gratitude." 
 
 "No, my lord," said Wild, as he got off his stool and 
 held open the door to allow his illustrious visitor to de- 
 part. " Under no circumstances will I accept of a penny 
 for that matter. I am quite firm about that." 
 
 " Well, well ! We shall see ! Good day ! " 
 
 " Good day, my lord. Tonks, show his lordship to th3 
 door." 
 
 Jonathan waited until he heard the front door bang, 
 and then he ventured to give utterance to his thoughts. 
 
 " So far, very good," he said. " Very good, indeed. 
 What an infernal fool he must be. Oh ! but the mag- 
 nanimous dodge is the dodge of all dodges. Ha ! ha ! 
 Three thousand five hundred and fifty pounds. A capital 
 mornings' work indeed. Now I only want to be equally 
 lucky with " 
 
 But before Jonathan could finish his sentence another 
 visitor was announced ; but before we relate who it was, 
 and what took place at the interview, we must turn our 
 attention to some of our characters whom we have for 
 some time neglected. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 THE DIAMOND TIARA. IS THE MEANS OF GETTING 
 JONATHAN INTO TROUBLE. 
 
 Not until darkness had fairly settled upon the earth 
 would Blueskin move from the " Ship and Rainbow" 
 public-house, although Jack importuned him to do so. 
 
 But he turned a deaf ear to all he said, nor would he 
 on any account suffer Jack to go away alone. 
 
 In accordance with the resolution he had expressed 
 he sought a bed-chamber, and having, after some trouble, 
 got a promise from Jack that he would not take ad- 
 vantage of his slumber to steal away he composed himself 
 to sleep. 
 
 Jack, to tell the truth, was glad enough to follow his 
 example, for he sadly needed rest. 
 
 And so at night, as we have said, they awoke refreshed, 
 and having eaten a hearty meal departed. 
 
 H.ad anyone been on the watch they would have seen 
 nothing remarkable in the fact of two persons putting 
 up all day at the inn, and going away as they came, 
 but as it happened no one noticed either their arrival or 
 departure. 
 
 The horse was quite fresh after his day's rest in the 
 etable, and he carried them along at a pace few others 
 could have equalled. 
 
 Blueskin drove straight to the livery stables at the 
 corner of King-street, Long-acre, and alighting there, 
 went in the direction of the Black Lion" on foot. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with the locality will be 
 aware that it is not more than six or eight minutes walk 
 to the ancient inn, for the building itself is still in exist- 
 ence, although the sign has been changed. 
 
 Now it is called the " Cock and Magpie." 
 
 Had Blueskin entirely consulted his own inclination he 
 would have made his way direct to Newgate-street, but 
 he had promised Jack he should call at the " Black Lion." 
 
 When they arrived the place was rather empty. It 
 was almost too early in the evening for'their customers to 
 arrive. 
 
 The pair walked straight into the kitchen at the back 
 of the house, and there they found Johnson very com- 
 posedly smoking a pipe. 
 
 He rose as he saw his visitors enter, and hastened to 
 bring two chairs towards the fire for their accommoda- 
 tion. 
 
 " How is " Jack began, and he suddenly stopped. 
 
 He did not know the name of the girl to whom lie had 
 been of such essential service. 
 
 But Johnson seemed to understand perfectly well who 
 he meant, for he said — 
 
 " She is all right, and looks so different that you \%oula 
 hardly know her. I expect her every moment. She was 
 here iust now, but she went out about two minutes a"o 
 along of the missus." 
 
 " Let us have something to drink, Johnson, and bring a 
 glass for yourself," said Blueskin. " I suppose there is 
 no news ?" 
 
 " Nothing as concern* you. I've been rather uneasy 
 
 all day, for you know you told me 'o expect you about 
 four o'clock this morning." 
 
 " I know I did, but I got to Oak\^. about that time, 
 and there I have been ever since." 
 
 " I felt pretty sure you were safe, for I kn^~r vou are 
 quite able to take care of yourself." 
 
 Johnson soon had the brandy on the table, and all three 
 took a tolerable quantity, Jack the least, for he was in a 
 perfect fever to see his protegee. 
 
 After waiting what appeared to him to be an endless 
 time, though it certainly was not more than a quarter- 
 of-an-hour, the rustling of female garments reached his 
 ears, and then Mrs. Johnson entered, closely fonowed 
 by the young girl. 
 
 Jack fairly uttered a shout of astonishment and delight 
 when he beheld her. He had already seen sufficient of 
 her countenance to know that it was a more beautiful one 
 than it falls to the lot of most feminine humanity to 
 have, but he was hardly prepared to see her looking so 
 lovely as she did. 
 
 The cry he had uttered had the effect of instantly 
 drawing the girl's attention to him, and as soon as she 
 saw her preserver a glad smile rose to her lips, and 
 with a slightly heightened colour in her cheeks and 
 sparkle in her eyes, she held out her hand to Jack. 
 
 It was a small and beautifully-shaped hand, and such 
 a one as many a titled dame would have given a trifle 
 to possess. 
 
 Under the landlady's care she had quite recovered. 
 
 Her old clothes were thrown aside, and she was at- 
 tired in some that belonged to one of Johnson's daughters 
 now deceased, and which, as she was about her age and 
 size, fitted her admirably. 
 
 With an air of charming freedom, she drew up a chair 
 close to Jack's and sat down in it. 
 
 It is in woman's nature to feel grateful for a service 
 rendered, and the fair shroudmaker was no exception to 
 the rest of her sex. 
 
 Her familiar manner soon put Jack at his ease, who, it 
 must be confessed, felt at first rather bashful and con- 
 fused. 
 
 Almost the first question that he found courage to ask 
 her was her name. 
 
 " I have two," she said ; " one is Elizabeth Lyon, and 
 the other is a nickname they gave me at Mrs. Roblet's." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " Edgwortb Bess." 
 
 "Edgworth Bess!" repeated Jack, "what an extra- 
 ordinary name. What in the world made them call you 
 that?" 
 
 " I can't imagine, but that is the name I have always 
 gone by." 
 
 "And now," said Jack, " I promised to tell you what 1 
 know about you, and how I came to learn what I do 
 know." 
 
 " You did. Tell me now, do." 
 
 " I will. You must know, in the first place, that last 
 night, having some time to while away, I went into a 
 public-house in Middle-row, Holborn. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " As soon as I entered the public room my attention 
 was immediately attracted by a man who was sitting at a 
 table near the window. He was burly and middle-aged, 
 with a countenance at once cunning and forbidding." 
 
 " And was that one of the men who attacked me ? " 
 
 " Patience, and you shall hear. Now, when I looked 
 at this individual I saw that, although he was dressed 
 with great plainness, yet everything he had on was of the 
 best material, while, lying on the table before him, was a 
 richly-jewelled sword, from which I concluded he was 
 something more than he appeared to be ; and I was con- 
 firmed in this supposition by seeing him presently draw 
 from beneath his coloured waistcoat a very valuable gold 
 watch, which he put back with RE iiapatient air, as 
 though he was waiting for some one who had appointed 
 to meet him there, but who was behind his time. 
 
 " This second supposition of mine turned out to be quite 
 correct, for a little while afterwards a man came in, 
 and then both began to converse together in a low tone." 
 
 "Go on, go on!" ev'd Edgworth Bess, for by this 
 name we shall in future call her. " I am impatient to 
 hear the rest." 
 
 " I tried my utmost to hear wii&t they saiu, uut to my 
 mortification,! could not make out a syllable. I observed, 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF
 
 52 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCB. 
 
 however, that they glanced suspiciously towards me, and 
 then the one who was there when I went in called for the 
 landlord, and asked for a private room, who showed them 
 into one on the first floor, and just over the one in which 
 they had been sitting. 
 
 " I don't know how it was, but I felt uncommonly 
 curious to know what they had got to say to each other, 
 though, of course, it was no business of mine. Never- 
 theless, so strong did this desire become, that I deter- 
 mined, let the risk be what it might, to try and overhear 
 their conversation," 
 
 " What a courage you must have," said Bess " I 
 should have been frightened to death." 
 
 " Oh ! that was nothing," said Jack, with a satisfied 
 smile, for every one likes to be thought brave. " I finished 
 my glass, and then went to the door of the room and 
 peeped into the passage. 
 
 " No one was there, and just before me I saw the stairs. 
 
 " 1 sprang across the hall and up the stairs like light- 
 ning, and after being nearly found out got into a room 
 that was only separated from the one where the two 
 mysterious visitors were sitting by a wooden partition." 
 
 " And so you could hear every word they said ?" 
 
 " 1 could with the greatest ease and distinctness, and 
 then I found that the one who had come in last addressed 
 the other as my lord." 
 
 " My lord ! He was s nobleman theu ." 
 
 "It appears like it; however, let me go on with my 
 story. You can make your remarks about it afterwards." 
 
 Full of wonder and interest Bess listened. 
 
 " His lordship called this man by the very funny name 
 of Steggs, and, from what I heard, it appears that this 
 Steggs had been sent to ascertain whether some informa- 
 tion, which had been given to his lordship, was correct." 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " Well, that information was, whether a girl who lived 
 in Charles-street, Drury-lane, worked for a woman named 
 Boblet, a shroudmaker, of No. 16, Princes-street, Lin- 
 coln's Inn-fields." 
 
 " Why, that is me ! " 
 
 " So it turns out. Well, I found that this lordship, for 
 his name was never mentioned, though I think my friend 
 here who is talking to Johnson knows it, — I found that 
 this lordship had had an elder brother who had inherited 
 a great deal of property from his father, but who was now 
 dead, and that this elder brother had a daughter to whom 
 the estates would revert by law." 
 
 " I understand that." 
 
 " So much the better then, for you will be able to com- 
 prehend that if this girl was not in existence the younger 
 brother would inherit the estates, but while she lived he 
 could not do so." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " To a wicked and unscrupulous man the thought of 
 destroying or in some way getting rid of this child who 
 stood between him and wealth would, of course, occur, and 
 so this younger brother employed a man to make away 
 with the little heiress 
 
 " How dreadful ! " 
 
 " But this man, like many another before him, found it 
 impossible to murder an innocent and beautiful child, so 
 he gave it instead to some poor people who lived in 
 Charles-street, Drury-lane." 
 
 "Then— then" 
 
 " Stop and hear the end. Williams, — for that was the 
 man's name who was to have done the horrid deed, — 
 rinding himself drawing near to an end, sent for a comrade 
 of his named Steggs, and disclosed the whole affair to 
 him, and died entreating him to see the heiress restored 
 to those rights from which she was so unjustly deprived. 
 But this Steggs, it seemed, thought he should reap the 
 most profit by siding with this younger brother, and so 
 told him the whole affair. It then became necessary to 
 ascertain whether the story told by the man Williams was 
 correct, and, if so, to concert measures for putting it out 
 of the power of the heiress to succeed to that property 
 bequeathed to her by her father." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD FINDS IT NECESSARY TO READ JACK 
 SHEPPARD A LESSON. 
 
 "And so," interrupted Edgworth Bess, "that is the 
 reason why those two men attempted to carry me away." 
 
 " That is the reason." 
 
 " And you, as soon as you heard this plot, without 
 thinking what peril you might encounter, resolved to 
 frustrate it ? " 
 
 " I did, and, as you see, succeeded." 
 
 " Oh, it was noble of you, indeed it was," she said, 
 with tears of gratitude and admiration thronging in her 
 eyes. " I shall never be able to recompense you for what 
 you have done." 
 
 " Tush ! 1 have done nothing yet to what I mean to do. 
 Johnson here will find you in a home for a little while, 
 and during that time I will ascertain the name of this 
 lord and all particulars, and I will never rest until I have 
 succeeded in restoring you to your rights." 
 
 "And then when you have I shall be able to repay you. 
 That is," she added, " if you will think what I offer you 
 repayment." 
 
 " I should be better pleased," said Jack, " if you would 
 say nothing about repayment. Believe me, I shall never 
 accept of anything." 
 
 " Do not be offended with me, but I do not like to be 
 under an obligation to anyone. I suppose it is because 
 1 have an independent spirit. But it was not money I 
 was going to offer you." 
 
 " What then ? " asked Jack, a wild hope springing up 
 in his breast, " what then ? " 
 
 " Since you will accept of nothing I will not tell you. 
 It would be useless to tell you." 
 
 " No, no . Tell me, do tell me, what you are going to 
 offer me." 
 
 Bess was silent, and then timidly placed her hand upon 
 Jack's. 
 
 " Yourself ? " he asked, while he pressed it between 
 his own rough palms, " impossible ! " 
 
 But even as he said the word he saw upon the face 
 of the young girl an expression which told him it was 
 true. 
 
 Under the excitement of the moment there is no saying 
 of what extravagance he might not have been guilty had 
 not the voice of Blueskin at that moment recalled him to 
 himself. 
 
 " Now then, Jack, you have said quite enough, I'm 
 sure. Come along. We must see Jonathan to-night." 
 
 Jack rose, and once more pressing the hand of Edgworth 
 Bess, he said — 
 
 "To-morrow I will be here, and I hope with some in- 
 formation that will be worth communicating." 
 
 A glance was the only reply Jack had to this speech, 
 but it was so full of meaning that it made his heart bound 
 in his bosom and his veins throb with an unknown 
 delight. 
 
 The young girl loved him. 
 
 Those who have studied human nature know how 
 easily gratitude merges into affection, and so it was with 
 this young girl. 
 
 As for Jack, he loved her even before he saw her. 
 
 As he followed his comrade out into the open street, all 
 things seemed to him to wear a new aspect and appear 
 more pleasing than they did, but the change was in his 
 own breast. 
 
 The criminal transactions in which he had participated 
 faded utterly from his mind. One feeling, one thought 
 alone occupied him, and that was love. 
 
 All the way to Newgate-street he was buried in a 
 reverie, and spoke not a word. 
 
 Probably enough Blueskin formed a shrewd guess as to 
 the cause of his abstraction, but if he did he made no 
 remark about it. 
 
 With his pass-key Blueskin opened the door of Wild's 
 house. 
 A dim light burned in the passage. 
 by its aid he saw a man seated in the chair mear Uie 
 door. 
 He slept. 
 
 The horrible snoring that he made placed that beyond 
 a doubt. 
 Blueskin shook him roughly. 
 The man awoke. 
 
 He glared about him in bewildered surprise. 
 "Thank your stars," said Blueskin, "that I founcv 
 you sleeping at your post, and not Jonathan. Where is 
 he?" 
 
 "Upstairs in his room,' he sail. "Confound it, I 
 could only have just dropped off.'"'
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 53 
 
 Without waiting to listen to the excuses of this man, 
 Blueskin, with Sheppard at his .heels, crossed the passage 
 and ascended the stairs. 
 
 He paused at the same door that he had stopped at 
 upon a former occasion. 
 
 He tapped gently. 
 
 Then listened for some sound from within. 
 
 A growling snarl reached their ears, and L.ijllte opened 
 the door and entered. 
 
 Just in the same position hy the fireside as when Jack 
 was first introduced to him sat the redoubtable thief- 
 taker. 
 
 " Back safe again, Blue, eh ? " 
 
 «' Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And young Sheppard ? " 
 
 " Yes, here he is." 
 
 " Ha ! Success ? " 
 
 " Only partial." 
 
 " How's that, Blue, eh ? " 
 
 The reader will perceive Jonathan treated his lieutenant 
 with greater civility than he did his myrmidoms. 
 
 " YVe had a desperate job, and got the plate all right ; 
 but, although I searched the iron box beneath the bed 
 thoroughly, not a trace of the paper you want could I 
 find." 
 
 Whatever paper this was, or whatever it might contain, 
 it was evidently very important to Wild, and he was much 
 disturbed at not obtaining it, if one may judge by the 
 manner in which he sprung to his feet and walked up and 
 down the room. 
 
 " We must not give it up, Blue. The paper is in 
 existence, I am confident of that." 
 
 " It is not in his strong box." 
 
 " Be it where it will, I must have it. Did you carry off 
 all the plate ? " 
 
 " All." 
 
 " Then the expedition has not been altogether profit- 
 less. But we will speak further of this in the morning. 
 In the meantime, be off, I want to have a little private 
 conversation with friend John here. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD PROVES TOO MANY FOR JACK SHEP- 
 PARD. 
 
 Which of the two, Blueskin or Jack Sheppard, was most 
 astonished at hearing these words from Jonathan Wild it 
 would be hard to say, and why he should finish with that 
 short,disagreeable, spasmodic kind of laugh, they were at 
 a loss to imagine. 
 
 However, Blueskin took the hint to go. 
 
 As soon as he had left the room Jonathan's manner 
 underwent a considerable change. 
 
 He thought that on the present occasion it would be 
 his best policy to be civil with Jack. 
 
 Tt was a great effort for him to be civil to anybody. 
 
 " Draw your chair closer up to the fire, Jack," he said, 
 'and pour yourself out a glass. I want to have a little 
 calk with you. Should you Eke a pipe ? " 
 
 " No, thank you," said Jack, more and more amazed at 
 the thief taker's condescension. " I never smoke." 
 
 " Don't you, indeed ? Well, fill up a glass." 
 
 Jack did so, and then just putting it to his lips he re- 
 placed it on the table, for he was all impatience to hear 
 what Jonathan had to say. 
 
 Wild took about half-a-dozen whiffs at his pipe before 
 he spoke. 
 
 "Jack," he then said, "I have formed the highest 
 opinion of you, my boy j I think we shall get on very well 
 together." 
 
 He paused, evidently expecting a reply, but Jack was 
 quite at a loss how to answer him, so he merely rjjdded 
 his head. 
 
 " There is only this. You must work with me ; as 
 soon as ever you set yourself up in opposition; down you 
 go." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " It's true, my own safety requires it, and whtn that is 
 the case I never scruple much about what I do. Many 
 and many a promising youth has come to grief by that 
 very thing." 
 
 " Setting themselves up in opposition to you, Mr. 
 Wild?" 
 
 "Exactly. Now I hope, Jack, for I have taken the 
 greatest fancy to you, that you will never do anything so 
 foolish, because if you were, in spite of my regard, you 
 would share the same fate." 
 
 " And that fate " 
 
 " Is a hempen collar at Tyburn." 
 Jack fidgetted about in his chair. 
 
 The conversation was taking a disagreeable turn, and 
 he began to ask himself whether Jonathan knew anything 
 of his proceedings with his lordship and the shroudmaker, 
 and whether he would call that setting himself up in 
 opposition. 
 Wild's next words confirmed his worst fears. 
 " Now, Jack, you went last night, or rather, to speak 
 more correctly, the night before last, along with Blueskin 
 to crack a crib at KTilburn, and you've got back safe. 
 Now what I want more particularly to know is how you 
 and where you passed the time after you left here, and 
 meeting with Blueskin at the ' Black Lion ? ' " 
 " Oh ! no how. Just waiting about, that's all." 
 " Just waiting about. Oh ! indeed, Jack ! Now, for 
 your own good, i'd advise you to be careful what you say, 
 and candid, too, or it may be the worse for you." 
 
 He did not know how it was exactly, but somehow, 
 Jack felt the greatest repugnance to tell Wild anything 
 about the fair shroudmaker. He could not help fancying 
 that he saw in Jonathan one of those who would keep 
 her from her rights. 
 
 He wished for an opportunity of speaking to Blueskin 
 upon the subject, so as to be guided by him, but there 
 was no means by which he could get to speak to him. 
 
 Jack was terribly uneasy, not on account of himself, 
 but upon that of the young girl he had so soon learned to 
 love. 
 
 The harsh tones of Jonathan Wild broke in upon his 
 meditations. 
 
 " And while you were waiting about, did you go any- 
 where ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! " said Jack, with a great effort, " I went to 
 several places." 
 " Did you ? Can you tell me some of them ? " 
 " No, not at this moment." 
 
 " Then I will refresh your memory a little, Jack, my 
 boy ; wasn't one of the places you went into a public- 
 house in Middle-row, Holborn ? " 
 
 Jack started. " How in the world," he asked himself, 
 "could Jonathan have learned that he went in there ? " 
 
 " Wasn't the public-house in Middle-row, Holborn, one 
 of the places you waited at, eh ? " asked Wild, in a louder 
 tone of voice. " Why don't you answer me, eh ? " 
 " I was trying to recollect. ' 
 "Ya-ah!" 
 
 " And now I call it to mind, I did go in there and wait, 
 I think." 
 " You think you did ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " So do I. Now when you went in, who was it that 
 you saw sitting at the table by the window ? " 
 
 " That's just what I want to know, and mean to find 
 out," said Jack. 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " Of course I can see plainly enough you have, by some 
 means or other, learned all that has taken place, so it's 
 nonsense for me to attempt to deny it." 
 " Bravo, Jack ! Now look here." 
 
 Jonathan produced his greasy leathern pocket-book, 
 and took from it a bank-note, which he handed to Jack. 
 " That's for yourself, my boy ! Put it into your pocket." 
 " No," said Jack, " before I do that I should like to 
 know what I am to do in return for having it." 
 
 Jonathan shut one eye, a favourite action of his when 
 he saw people appear to be cunning. 
 
 " You are a clever chap, Jack, a very shrewd, clever 
 chap. You are quite correct in supposing that I want 
 you to do something for which that note will be payment." 
 " Then, if that's the case," said Sheppard, as he tossed 
 the piece of paper across the table, " you had better not 
 pay me until I have done it. Pay beforehand is the worst 
 pay of all." 
 
 Jonathan scowled ; but for all that, he foroed one of 
 those short laughs of his from his lips. 
 
 " Sharp youth ! Well, now, to go back again, you over- 
 heard at this public-house a plot, between two persons, t« 
 abduct a young girl." »
 
 S4 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Yes. I did, and I don't deny it, but they didn't succeed 
 quite so well as they thought they would.' 
 
 " I know they didn't. Aud now, Jack, d© you know 
 this man's motive for wanting the girl carried oftV 
 
 " Yes, I do." 
 
 " Then that's all right," said Wild, who added imme- 
 diately, " I wish I did." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Knowing this, Jack, you must, of course, be aware 
 that he has resolved to have her, and have her he will." J 
 
 " I don't know about that," said Jack, snl'enly. 
 
 " Don't you, indeed ? " 
 
 " I can see pretty well how it is.'"' 
 
 " Can you really ? " 
 
 " Yes I can." 
 
 " Then, my clever young friend, just be £ood enough 
 to say how it is." 
 
 " Why, when Steggs and his lordship failed in their en- 
 terprise, they came direct to you, fancying that you would 
 be easiest able to find out where the young girl now is." 
 
 " Wonderful ! That is precisely it. Now, Jack, a great 
 deal will depend upon this." 
 
 " Upon what ? " 
 
 " Do you know his lordship's real motive for wishing 
 to get possession of this girl ? " 
 
 " 1 do." 
 
 " I say his real motive, not his apparent one.'' 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Now, just to try you, Jack, and more depends upon 
 your answer than you think, tell me what you think is 
 the real motive." 
 
 Now Jack for once made a miscalculation. 
 
 So artfully had Wild managed the whole affair that 
 he felt sure he did know all, and, therefore, he thought 
 there could be no harm in letting him know the extent 
 of his information. 
 
 He spoke at once, and to the point. 
 
 " He wants to cstcry her off, and either murder her or 
 put her out of the way somehow, because she being his 
 elder brother's child is the heiress to the estates which 
 his lordship now unjustly holds."' 
 
 Jonathan's breath was quite taken away by this in- 
 telligence. 
 
 He dropped his pipe, and stared at Jack with wide 
 open mouth and eyes. 
 
 His behaviour was so exactly that of a recipient of a 
 piece of unexpected and astounding news, that Jack 
 knew instantly he had been trapped into making a false 
 move 
 
 " Is this true. Jack ? " gasped Wild. 
 
 " True ! " iterated Sheppard, infuriated that Wild 
 should have overreached him, " didn't you tell me you 
 knew all about it when you did not, or else you would not 
 ask me whether it was true ? " 
 
 " But, Jack, his lordship told me that his motive was 
 entirely different. Is it really possible that what you have 
 told me is true ? " 
 
 " It is something more than possible.'' 
 
 " Why — why, Jack ! she — she " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Is worth her weight in gold to anyone who can lay 
 hold of her. Where is she, Jack ? " 
 
 " And do you think, Jonathan Wild, that I would be 
 instrumental in placing her in her rascally uncle's power ? 
 Never, never ! " 
 
 " Mind, what you're about, Jack. You may ]ust as well 
 tell me at once, and save trouble, for I am sure to find 
 out." 
 
 " And if I tell you where she is, whose side shall you 
 take — her's or her uncle's ?" 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " What is there to laugh at ? v 
 
 " Oh ! lots. Now, which side do you think I should 
 take?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " I'll tell you." 
 
 " Her uncle's ? " 
 
 " Perhaps so ! But, at any rate, tho oor from whom I 
 should get the most money." 
 
 " And would not the restoration of a young girl to her 
 own be a sufficient reward without anyfhing else ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it. But to be candid with you, Jack. It 
 will be best for us to row in the same boat." 
 
 "Oh! will it ?" 
 
 " It will, Jack ; believe me, it will." 
 
 * Well, go on." 
 
 " You're rather saucy, Jack ; however, as I like you, I 
 shall look over that." 
 
 " Oh ! just as you like," said Sheppard, who felt that 
 circumstances had placed him in a position to make free 
 ' Tith Jonathan Wild. " Don't make me an exception to 
 any of yonr rules, I beg." / 
 
 Wild glared angrily at him. 
 
 " Go on with what you've got to say, but if you want me 
 to '.ake part against the young girl " 
 
 ' ' Yes — yes. ' 
 
 " You may save your breath, for I tell you once for all 
 I'll see you jolly well d d first." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD 10R ONCE IN HIS LIFE IS OUT-MA- 
 NCEUVRED BY JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Jonathan started to his feet. 
 
 His face was inflamed with passion. 
 
 " How dare you ? " he said, " I'll " — 
 
 But a second thought came across the mind of the 
 politic thief -taker, and he, by a great effort, curbed his 
 anger, and sat down in his seat again. 
 
 " Jack Sheppard," he said, " it is pretty evident you 
 are a lad of spirit, and I like you ; so I have put up with- 
 out resenting it that which I would not have suffered 
 from anyone else." 
 
 " I'm much obliged," said Jack. 
 
 " Now you are young and inexperienced, and have not 
 seen so much of the world as I have, Jack. Now do for 
 once take my advice." 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " Very well, then. It's natural enough that your sym- 
 pathies are on the side of the heiress. My sympathies 
 are there too." 
 
 The idea of Jonathan Wild having sympathy for any- 
 body was rich in the extreme, and so thought Jack, if one 
 may judge by the smile which rose to his lips. 
 
 "Ah! you may smile," said Wild, "but it's a fact for 
 all that ; but it is wrong to be carried away by your feel- 
 ings, you ought to bring reason to bear upon the subject." 
 
 " It won't do, Jonathan." 
 
 " Now, there is one very important thing I should like 
 you to take into consideration," continued Wild, unheeded 
 by Sheppard' s ejaculatory interruption ; " and that is, 
 that possession is nine points of the law." 
 
 " I know that well enough." 
 
 " Oh ! you do ? So much the better, then. Now, at 
 the present time, Lord What is his name, Jack ? " 
 
 " That's just what I want to know." 
 
 " Oh! is it? Then I am sorry to say I can't tell you. 
 However, as I was going to say, his lordship has posses- 
 sion at present, and there would be a good deal of trouble 
 in ousting him." 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Perhaps ? I am sure of it. And then consider fur- 
 ther, his lordship has all his life been used to the luxuries 
 of his present mode of life, and it w r ould be cruel in the 
 greatest degree to deprive him of them." 
 
 " Stuff!" 
 
 " Especially to put into his place one who has never 
 been accustomed to such things, and therefore cannot feel 
 the want of them." 
 
 " But that is not the question, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " Stop a little longer, and you'll see it is. An affair of 
 this sort ought always to be made pecuniarily advantageous 
 to those concerned in it. Now, if you are only half as 
 clever as I take you to be, you'll perceive that his lordship 
 would give more to retain his possessions thao the girl 
 would to be put into them." 
 
 Jack Sheppard rose to his feet. 
 
 " It's no good trying it on. I told yoti just now that I 
 would not lift a finger to keep her from her rights, but, on 
 the contrary, I would use my whole energies lo restore her 
 to them. As for telling you where she is, you will get no 
 more from me, further than that she is safe, and where 
 you will be unable to find her." 
 
 " Don't make too sure of that, viper," said Wild, as he, 
 too, sprung from his chair, " I'll wring it from yen before 
 you are many hours older." 
 
 "Will you? I don't think you will. Gooc! night.
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE, 
 
 55 
 
 Jonathan Wild. Our acquaintance has been short, but 
 quite long enough." 
 
 " Are you going, Jack ? " 
 
 " I am," he replied, going towards the door. 
 
 " No, don't, Jack, for my sake. Pray stay. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Jonathan Wild had a strange habit of laughing on the 
 most unmirthful occasions, or at all events when no one 
 but himself could sec anything to laugh at. 
 
 Jack Sheppard put his hand on the lock of the door. 
 
 At the same moment, though he did not perceive it, 
 Jonathan Wild pressed upon a spring, which communi- 
 cated with a bell in the lower portion of his domicile. 
 
 " One minute more, Jack," he said. " Let us, if wc 
 are going to part over this matter, part friends. Fill 
 up your glass once more. I am very sorry I am going 
 to lose you over a booby of a girl." 
 
 Jack did not know Wild yet, or he would have known 
 that when he spoke gently he was most to be dreaded. 
 
 He saw nothing sinister in the fact of his asking him 
 to drink, and besides, he was blinded ? little with self- 
 conceit. 
 
 Almost, however, before he could reach the table, the 
 door of the room was thrown open and one of Wild's 
 men entered the room. 
 
 " Secure him ! " cried the thief-taker, with sudden ve- 
 hemency, " secure him ! " 
 
 Jack turned round with the rapidity of lightning, but 
 he was too late ; the men had already grasped him 
 tightly from behind. 
 
 In vain he struggled to free himself. They were used 
 to that sort of thing, and his struggles seemed to have no 
 other effect than that of tightening the hold they had 
 upon him. 
 
 His rage at being thus outwitted lent him double 
 strength, too, but it was no use. 
 
 " Curse you," he said ; " you shall repent this." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 The laugh was even shorter and more disagreeable 
 than usual. 
 
 " To the cells with him," he cried; " drag him along, 
 I will follow you." 
 
 In obedience to his commands the two men began to 
 drag Jack towards the door, but this they found rather 
 more difficult than holding him. 
 
 " Be quiet, fool," cried Wild. " Can't you see it is use- 
 less to attempt to get away. Drop it, or it will be the 
 worse for you. ' 
 
 But Jack heeded not his words, he was furious at the 
 thought that he should thus be made a prisoner. 
 
 Jonathan Wild took up his cudgel from the corner by 
 the fire-place, where he had been resting. 
 
 He swung it round just before Jack's face, who was 
 not so blinded with passion as not to be able to see it, 
 and understand what was meant." 
 
 He ceased his struggles. 
 
 He thought he might just as well save his sconce as 
 not. 
 
 Down stairs and along the gloomy passage leading to 
 the cells he was marshalled by the two men, Jonathan 
 Wild, with a hideous grin distorting his lips, following 
 in the rear. 
 
 Through the curious iron door, past the cell doors, to 
 the very end of the passage, they went, as Wild had done 
 on the occasion of his visit to Sir Marmadake. 
 
 The secret door in the wall— a secret to all those who 
 were not in the confidence of the great thief-taker — was 
 opened, and they entered the gloomy corridor beyond. 
 
 The very next cell to that in which languished the un- 
 fortunate baronet, was the one destined to be the abiding - 
 place of Jack. 
 
 The door grated back upon its hinges, and Jack was 
 rudely thrust over the threshold. 
 
 They did not think it necessary to bind him in any way. 
 They relied upon the strength of the dungeon itself pro- 
 eluding all possibility of escape. 
 
 Jack, who was unaware that the flooring of the cell was 
 some two feet lower than that of the passage, feil heavily 
 upon his face when he was thrust in. 
 
 Jonathan himself held the door almost shut, and through 
 the crevice peeped into the cell. 
 
 '"Ha! ha! Jack, my boy. How qc you feel now ? xfow 
 do you like your new quarters ? I tell you what it is : 
 here you will have to stay until you choose to tell me 
 where I know who is. You will, indeed. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 To this speech Jack Sheppard deigned no other reply 
 than a howl of rage. 
 
 Bang went the door of the cell, and then Wild set 
 about securing it. 
 
 He first turned a key in the lock. 
 
 Then he shot two enormous iron bolts into their 
 sockets. 
 
 And lastly put a thick oaken bar crossways over the 
 door. 
 
 It was secure enough in all conscience one would think. 
 
 Jonathan seomed to think so, for he turned from it 
 with an air that said as plainly as possible — 
 
 " Get out of that if you can." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII 1. 
 
 SIR MA7.MADUKE HEARS A MYSTERIOUS VOICE, WHICH 
 ADVISES HIM NOT TO SIGN THE DEED. 
 
 " Ya — AH ! " cried Wild, as he turned round and faced 
 the two men who had brought Jack to the dungeon, 
 " Ya— ah ! what are you waiting for ? Be off with you, I 
 say, be off." 
 
 Upon hearing these words the two officers vanished 
 with a celerity that seemed really marvellous. 
 
 Before he could have counted ten Jonathan Wild was 
 completely alone. 
 
 The silence of the very grave was around him. 
 
 "Shall I go now," he muttered, "or is it too soon 
 after my former visit ? I am here now, though, and I 
 think it will be as well." 
 
 From these words the reader will easily comprehend 
 that it was to the unfortunate baronet, Sir Marmadulre 
 Osborn, that he referred, and in whose fate, it is pre- 
 sumed, some considerable amount of interest is felt. 
 
 As he spoke, Wild made his way to the door of the 
 dungeon, and, withdrawing the fastenings, threw the door 
 open. 
 
 The faint rustling sound which would be produced by 
 anyone slowly turning over upon straw reached his ears. 
 
 " Sir Marmaduke Osborn," said Wild, " I have come." 
 
 " Begone then, villain. Begone ! " 
 
 " Not until I please." 
 
 " To stay here is useless. Thank Heaven I was able 
 to resist the temptation to barter away my estates for 
 my liberty. Hence, I say! I will never sign the deed." 
 
 " Your's is a brave spirit." 
 
 " Mocker ! May the bitterest and most withering 
 nurse of a wife— a mother — and children, cling to you 
 now, and through all eternity ! Curse you ! Curse you, 
 I say ! " 
 
 Jonathan shook a little. 
 
 Superstition formed no inconsiderable element in Wild's 
 mental composition, and he could not hear unmoved the 
 just imprecations of the man he had so foully injured. 
 
 But he quickly recovered himself. 
 
 " Silence ! " he yelled. " You had best be so, or I 
 may adopt means of enforcing it which you will find 
 more effective than pleasant. Silence, I say ! 
 
 Jonathan jumped down into the cell as he spoke. 
 
 He held the lamp which he carried in such a position 
 that its rays fell with the greatest force upon the baronet. 
 
 This unfortunate object of Wild's avarice was extended 
 at full length upen the straw. 
 
 When he spoke he had raised himself a little on one 
 arm, but upon the approach of his arch enemy, he sunk 
 down to a recumbent position. 
 
 The rays from Jonathan's lamp dazzled him. 
 
 " Get up," cried the thief-taker. " Get up, I say. Do 
 you hear ? " 
 
 " I do hear, and I comply," said the prisoner, as he sat 
 up ; "but I do so merely to escape your brutality, for I 
 know you are cowardly enough to maltreat me, weak and 
 defenceless as I am." 
 
 Wild growled out some half-articulate reply, and then 
 he said — 
 
 " I told you yesterday I should visit you to-day, and 
 you see, ha ! ha ! I am as good as my word. Quite funny 
 that. Why don't you laugh, Sir Marmaduke ? You have 
 Deer expecting me, have you not ? " 
 
 There was something grotesquely horrible aboui; Wild s 
 mocking tones. 
 
 The prisoner was silent. 
 
 Jonathan continued. 
 
 " I hope," he aaid, "you have come to the determina«
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 tion to accede to the terms which I propose. The little 
 opportunity for reflection which I generously accorded 
 you has been made use of, I hope." 
 
 " It has, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "What >3 your resolution? To sign the deed) of' 
 course ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Wild ! Wild ! what have I done that ycra saould 
 persecute me thus ? " Do not, oh ! do not, for the sake 
 of my wife and little ones, rob me of my all. Take a 
 part, take a part. To secure my own freedom I would 
 gladly give a moiety, but not all — not all ! " 
 
 The piteous tones in which these words were spoken 
 were, one would have thought, sufficient to make an im- 
 pression on the most obdurato heart ; but it was not so. 
 Jonathan stood with his arms folded, looking at his 
 helpless victim, while a grim smile of derision curled his 
 ftps. 
 
 " And so," he said, " this is the result of your reflec- 
 tions. I see, I have only Lad useless trouble after all. 
 This is what one gets by being over thoughtful and 
 indulgent." 
 
 " Indulgent ! " repeated Sir Marmaduke, who seemed 
 infuriated by the bitter mockery of his persecutor. " In- 
 dulgent ? How ? In wbat way ? " 
 
 Jonathan Leld up his hands in affected astonishment. 
 
 " Do you pretend you are ignorant of my kindness to 
 you ? Well — well, we must not look for our reward on 
 earth." 
 
 "No," exclaimed the prisoner; "but most assuredly 
 will you meet with it in hell ! " 
 
 "Ha! ha! That is a place to frighten children with. 
 A bugbear that has for me no terrors. What I am I 
 am. When I die my body will resolve into the elements, 
 and all will be over. A future state — ha ! ha ! The 
 idea is most absurd, though I give the man credit who 
 was the first to broach it. A cunning priest was he." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke shuddered, as he heard the thief-taker 
 utter such blasphemous opinions. He said nothing. He 
 felt how useless it would be. 
 
 " But this is idle talk," said Jonathan, as he again took 
 from his pocket the cunningly-worded paper the baronet 
 was so near signing the day before. 
 
 " Come," he said, " delay no longer. Freedom is sweet 
 to all men. Purchase it, ere it be too late." 
 
 " Purchase it ! but at what a price ! " 
 
 " Your name, Sir Marmaduke, will remain untarnished 
 if you adopt this course, and surely you can feel the desi- 
 rability of that." 
 
 "No — no, I cannot — I cannot. I should live, but to 
 what end ? To be cursed by my poor children. Fiend, 
 are you deaf to all entreaty ? Can no words, no supplica- 
 tions move you? Surely, your heart cannot be all stone ! " 
 
 " Cease this : it is worse thau useless." 
 
 " Will nothing move you ? " 
 
 " Nothing but compliance with my demands." 
 
 " Oh ! my God ! my God ! " moaned the unhappy 
 knight. " What shall I do ? How shall I act ? " 
 
 " Ask yourself," said Wild, " and not an invisible, in- 
 existing power. Be a man, and not a fool." 
 
 " And do you call that being a man ? " asked Sir 
 Marmaduke. " Do you call your actions manly P Are 
 you a man ? If so I should wish to be a demon ! " 
 
 " Ha! ha!" laughed Wild, but he was clearly ill at 
 ease. " It is amusing, most amusing, but I have had 
 enough and too much of this. Here is the paper. Sign 
 it, and be free ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan thrust the paper into his hands. 
 
 It was taken almost mechanically. 
 
 Who can tell what fearful struggles he had had when 
 aloue in the darkness and solitude of his cell ? Who could 
 tell what struggle was even then going on in his breast P 
 
 Environed as he was by evils, turn in which direction 
 he would, decision was impossible. The only thing of 
 which he was properly conscious was that he did not 
 possess the right, even if he had the will, to abalienate 
 bis possessions from his lawful heirs. 
 
 Still he hesitated. 
 
 And, let it be asked, under the circumstances, was it 
 at all wonderful that he should ? Alas ! no. For a long 
 time he had resisted all the specious arguments which 
 Wild had urged— resisted them with a pertinacity whiob 
 would elicit the greatest admiration ; but in proportion as 
 His bodily frame grew more and mors enfeebled, so did 
 his steadfastness diminish. 
 
 " Sign ! " said Wild, again taking a pen from his 
 pocket, which he forced into the prisoner's grasp ; " sign 
 and be free — free ! Free to look again upon the glorious 
 sunlight, to see the children of whom you are so fond." 
 
 " And would they," asked the baronet, in tones of 
 mournful pathos, " would they be fond of mo ? No, no ; 
 rather would they call down the bitterest execrations upon 
 their miserable parent." 
 
 " Phsa ! " said Wild, " think not of that. Surely it 
 would be better, bad as it might be, than to suffer a vio- 
 lent and ignominious death at the hands of the common 
 executioner." 
 
 " Alas ! that such should under any circumstances 
 be the fate of a gentleman. It should be reserved for 
 wretches like yourself — for whom, however, such a punish- 
 ment is too good." 
 
 " That is entirely a matter of opinion. But, come, I 
 have dallied with you long enough, and my patience is at 
 an end. Sign — sign, I say." 
 
 There was a kind of stone bench or settle near that 
 part of the dungeon where Sir Marmaduke lay upon the 
 straw, and towards this place he crawled. 
 
 He spread the paper smoothly upon it. 
 
 Observing what he was about, Jonathan, with his whole 
 countenance lighted up with demoniac exultation, picked 
 up the Limp and directed its beams upon the writing. 
 
 Silently, too, hs unhooked from the button of his coat 
 an xik-horn, which he placed upon the stone seat. 
 
 The poor prisoner's eyes were dim. Tears, too, which 
 he could not control, suffused them. He made several 
 vain efforts to decipher it. 
 
 He did not give it a thought that the document had 
 been purposely written in a cramped and illegible hand. 
 
 " Never mind the words," said Jonathan, " why do you 
 wish to trouble about them. You know their import ; 
 that surely should suffice." 
 
 " Yes, yes, as you say ; what matters it ? Git* me the 
 pen." 
 
 " You have it in your hand." 
 
 "Ay, so I have; I had forgotten. The ink!" 
 
 " It is beside you." 
 
 " Farewell to my once happy home and smiling grounds. 
 Farewell to all happiness on earth. These few strokes ol 
 the pen will deprive me of them for ever." 
 
 As he spoke these words he seized the pen, and hastily 
 affixed his signature. 
 
 But while he was in the very act, and before he had 
 finished forming the characters, a strange voice, coming 
 apparently from the roof, spoke. 
 
 " Do not sign the deed, Sir Marmaduke ! " it said ; 
 " if you do you are lost indeed ! Jonathan Wild will 
 have you arraigned for treason, and executed all the 
 same ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 TIIK THAMES POLICE CHASE JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Too late. 
 
 The pen fell from the nerveless grasp of Sir Marmaduke. 
 
 But the warning voice came too late. 
 
 He had affixed his signature to the deed. 
 
 Jonathan Wild uttered a yell. 
 
 At first its tones were those of terror, but they quick!* 
 merged into anger. 
 
 He recognized the tones. 
 
 The shock upon the debilitated mind and body of thi 
 baronet was so great that, for a moment or two, he was 
 bereft of speech and motion. 
 
 Wild was the first to recover himself. 
 
 He made a snatch at the document he had taken so 
 much trouble to obtain. 
 
 The baronet was too bewildered to be able to prevent 
 him. 
 
 Leaving him to recover as best he might, Jonathan, 
 after thrusting the paper into h'» pocket, strode from the 
 cell. 
 
 We have said that ho recognized the voice, and ha 
 understood in a moment whence it had proceeded. 
 
 But as the reader does not, we must go back a little 
 way. 
 
 When Jack was locked in the dungeon, he remained 
 standing where he was without moving hand or foot, 
 partly from the dread he had of walking in a strange place
 
 BI/UESKDT. A ROMA WCt. 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD SQUARES ACCOUNTS WITH JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 in the dark, and partly to listen to the receding footsteps 
 of his jailers. 
 
 There was apparently no other aperture to the cell than 
 the door by which he had entered. Certainly there was 
 none through which the faintest scintillation of light 
 penetrated. 
 
 As he thus stood, he, to his surprise, distinctly heard a 
 door open. 
 
 That is the one leading into Sir Marniaduke's cell. ( 
 
 Then he heard the voice of the villainous thief-taker. 
 
 Every word he spoke Jack heard with as much distinct- 
 ness as he would have donf> i* Jonathan had been standing 
 at his elbo 
 
 The barouet's reply followed. 
 
 Jack listened to the conversation which saisued with an 
 interest that knew no bounds. 
 
 By a species of intuition, which formed a leading trait 
 m hie mental composition, Jack divined the whole of the 
 •fiair from first to last, in all its ramifications. 
 
 And now he found that every moment his eyes became. 
 
 more and more accustomed to the darkness wherewith he 
 was surrounded, and he was enabled to see, dimly and im- 
 perfectly, it is true, the different objects in his cell. 
 
 He was, however, at a loss to account for the plainness 
 with which he heard all that was going on in the con- 
 tiguous dungeon. 
 
 He placed his hands against the walls. 
 
 They were cold and slimy, and apparently of solid 
 stone. 
 
 From this circumstance he was forced to the conviction 
 that there must be somewhere in the wall, which divided 
 his cell from that in which Jonathan * 1 '' ^'s prisoner were, 
 an opening of some kind. 
 
 A more attentive auscultation convinced him that this 
 must actually be the case, and that its situation must be 
 somewhere near the roof of the cell. 
 
 In this supposition Jack was perfectly correct. 
 
 The series of cells in which he was placed cominur.* 
 cated with e*ch other by a square aperture. 
 
 So. 8. 
 
 GHAT IS with this Number, The ENGBAVZ27G of FOBTJ&AX7 OF JACK 
 
 SHEFPAP3>,
 
 5S 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 
 This contrivance, insufficient as it was, was for the pur- 
 pose of ventilation. 
 
 The beams of the lantern which Jonathan carried made 
 the exact locality of this opening in the wall apparent, and He huddled himself up into as small a compass aa he 
 Jack came to a sudden determination to try to reach it, could, and shrank close against the wall, 
 and so be not merely an auditor but a spectator of wVmt.... He clasped his hands together, 
 was going on in the adjoining cell. r. The predominant expression upon his features was mute 
 
 He carefully estimated the distance, and shook *us I and iudefined terror, 
 head. | Whei&er to look upon Sheppard as a friena or perse 
 
 He felt that to reach it without something to sl^na" upon 
 
 sueh a state of mental confusion that he could only 
 partially comprehend what was taking place around 
 
 would be an impossibility. 
 
 The height from the floor to the bottom part of the 
 aperture was at least ten feet, and although it was just 
 possible that he might by a vigorous spring reach it with 
 the tips of his Augers, yet he would not be able to take a 
 firm hold. 
 
 He cast his eyes about him for some means of accom- 
 plishing his purpose. 
 
 But he could find nothing. 
 
 A quantity of straw, in a very humid state, littered 
 down in one corner, was all there was to provide him with , 
 a bed. 
 
 To be sure, against the wall opposite to the door there 
 was a kind of stone settle similar to that in Sir Marma-< 
 duke's cell, but this was of no service to him, since it was 
 a fixture. 
 
 At last he found a pitcher, which had probably been 
 used to convey water to some former inmate of the cell. 
 
 It was empty, and Jack thought that by turning it 
 bottom upwards he would, by placing it under the hole 
 he was so anxious to reach and standing upon it, be able 
 by giving a spring to take firm hold of the stone-work 
 with his hands. 
 
 He made the attempt, and was successful. 
 
 The muscles' in Jack's arms and wrists were very strong, 
 and his body light, so he was able, after shifting his hands 
 a little, to draw himself up ; a feat which he had seen fre- 
 quently performed by mountebanks. 
 
 When he had done this, he found he was able to see 
 what was going forward. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke had taken the pen in his hand, and was 
 about to affix his signature to the deed. 
 
 Jonathan was standing behind him. 
 
 The lamplight fell upon his visage. 
 
 Its expression was truly awful. 
 
 It was at this moment Jack shouted out the warning to 
 the baronet not to sign the deed. 
 
 But, as we have seen, he was too late. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke, with the rapidity of thought, signed 
 his name. 
 
 The accents of Jack's voice were only too well-known 
 to Wild, and he comprehended in a moment what had 
 taken place. 
 
 Therefore, the cry of terror which first came from his 
 mouth quickly changed its note to rage, and he rushed 
 from the cell. 
 
 Clearly his intention was to pay Jack a visit, and wreak 
 his vengeance upon him. 
 
 But Sheppard had found that the hole in the wall was 
 large enough for him to force his slender body through, 
 and, before Wild could get the fastening of his cell door 
 undone, he had crawled completely through the opening. 
 
 To drop down then into Sir Marmaduke's dungeon was 
 a matter of no difficulty whatever. 
 
 Jonathan Wild uttered another yell when he found the 
 cell was empty. 
 
 He knew well enough there was no other means than 
 the hole near the roof by which Jack could have left the 
 cell, and he could scarcely believe it possible anyone could 
 have got through such a contracted aperture. 
 
 With more rage swelling in his heart than he had ever 
 before felt, the thief-taker rushed back to Sir Marmaduke's 
 cell. & 
 
 But Jack heard him coming, and was prepared to receive 
 him. 
 
 The first thing almost that Jack saw on reaching the 
 ground was the bludgeon Jonathan was so fond of carrying 
 about with him. 
 
 He could scarcely contain his delight at the luclcy chance 
 by which so formidable a weapon had been placed in his 
 hands. 
 
 He took a firm hold of it. 
 
 As for the unfortunate victim of Wild's rapacity, the 
 *»fcrtnn»t« baronet Sir Marmaduke Osborn, he was in 
 
 cutor he knew not, and so remained helplessly awaiting 
 the result. 
 
 But we have said when Jack heard Jonathan coming 
 he took up a position to receive him. 
 
 That position was against the wall by the door. 
 
 With both hands he held Wild's formidable bludgeon 
 above his head. 
 
 Blinded by passion, Jonathan made a rush into the 
 cell. 
 
 There was a sickening thud — the sound that is produced 
 by violently bringing down some hard and heavy instru- 
 ment upon some softer object. 
 
 Jack had struck Wild on the head with his bludgeon. 
 
 He fell down like an ox at the shambles. 
 
 In all probability bad such a blow alighted upon any 
 other head than the thief-taker's, it would have been a 
 fatal one. 
 
 But not only had prescient Nature bestowed upon Wild 
 a skull of unusual thickness ; he had adopted measures to 
 guard against any such little contingency as that which 
 had j'^st happened. 
 
 This means was to have placed inside his hat a frame- 
 work of steel, so cunningly contrived that it was almost 
 as great a protection ironi a blow as a helmet would have 
 been. 
 
 But the unexpectedness and suddenness of Sheppard's 
 attack, coupled with the force of the blow itself, made 
 him reach the floor in a state bordering closely upon 
 insensibility. 
 
 Strong as the bands of steel inside bis hat were, they 
 were not strong enough to wholly exempt him from the 
 effects of such an attack. 
 
 No sooner did Jack see his foe prone upon the floor 
 ' than he threw away the cudgel and sprang upon him, in- 
 tent upon recovering and destroying the deed Sir Marma- 
 duke had signed. 
 
 With no little difficulty he rolled the inert body of the 
 thief-taker over on to his back. 
 
 No sooner, however, did he accomplish this feat than 
 he perceived Jonathan suddenly recover from his swoon. 
 
 Wild's first impulse was to clutch Jack by the throat. 
 
 But the latter, although no match for Wild, had an ad- 
 vantage that made him more — far mora. 
 
 He was uppermost. 
 
 Quick as thought Jack caught hold of Jonathan by the 
 ears and hair near them, and then, pressing his knee upon 
 his chest, banged his head upon the dungeon-floor. 
 
 Crack.! crack ! crack ! 
 
 Those were the ominous sounds produced by the con- 
 tact. 
 
 Jonathan's hold relaxed. 
 
 Jack lifted his head up an inch or so higher, and 
 brought it down with additional force, in order to give 
 what the French term the coup de grace. 
 
 This time Wild was thoroughly insensible. 
 
 Jack now proceeded to look for the deed, and seeing a 
 piece of roughly-folded paper projecting from Wild's 
 pocket, he, making no doubt it was what he sought, 
 transferred it to his own. 
 
 His next care was to look after Sir Marmaduke Osborn. 
 
 Still crouching, like some wild animal at the end of his 
 chain, was this one of many victims of Wild's brutality. 
 
 Who, to gaze upon that trembling and emaciated form, 
 would imagine it to be that of a gentleman of rank ! 
 
 No one. 
 
 Jack Sheppard shuddered as his eyes rested on this 
 piteous sight. 
 
 " A day of reckoning for work of this sort must surely 
 come at last," he said, " and then will Jonathan have t» 
 beware." 
 
 He picked up the lantern as he spoke, and made a step 
 forward in the direction of Sir Marmaduke, who, however, 
 with a faint moan of terror, endeavoured to shrink closer 
 to the wall. 
 
 His demeanour was abject in the extreme*
 
 BLTJESRtti : A ROMANCE. 
 
 But in his lack-lustre eyes there came occasionally a 
 fitful gleam, that told Wild by his cruelty and persecution 
 had lighted up the fire of insanity in his brain. 
 
 Jack strove by speaking softly to reassure the trembling 
 being before him. 
 
 " Sir Marmaduke Osborn," he said, " for such I gather 
 is your name and title, accept all the assurances that I can 
 give that from me you have nothing to fear/' 
 
 "Fear — fear! " 
 
 "Yes," said Jack, in louder tones, "nothing to fear 
 from me. Your enemy you have seen me overcome. He 
 lies there bereft of power to do you harm." 
 
 Re-assured by Jack's words, Sir Marmaduke rose to his 
 feet, and looked intently in the direction in which he 
 pointed. 
 
 Jack held the lantern so that its beams fell chiefly 
 on Wild's body, which they lighted up with a horrible dis- 
 tinctness. 
 
 For some moments Sir Marmaduke gazed upon his per- 
 secutor in silence, and then in a strange, hoarse, trembling 
 whisper, he spoke. 
 
 His words seemed to be more. addressed to himself than 
 to his rescuer. 
 
 " Can it be true that he is dead at last ? " he asked. 
 " Can it be possible ? No, no. He is not dead yet — he 
 never will die. Fiends like angels are immortal ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD DESPAIRS OF AGAIN SEEING THE LIGHT 
 OF DAY. 
 
 This thought was quite a novel one to Jack, and he glared 
 at the speaker with considerable astonishment. 
 
 " I don't think he's dead, myself," he said, after a 
 pause ; " and I sincerely hope he is not. I have already 
 quite enough to answer for, without that." 
 
 Sir Marmiduke advanced as far as his chain would 
 allow him, in order to obtain a nearer and a better view of 
 his arch enemy. He could scarcely believe it was really 
 him who lay there so powerless. 
 
 " I should be very sorry to have his death at my door. 
 But come. If he is moveless now, he will not long remain 
 so. If we are to escape, our measures must be taken 
 promptly. 
 
 There was something magical, one would think, ia the 
 pronunciation of that one word escape, for it had an effect 
 which probably nothing else would have had. It called 
 into being all the latent energies Sir Marmaduke pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 " Escape I escape ! " he cried, wildly. " Who speaks of 
 escape ? That ia music. The sweetest music ever drank 
 in by my ears." 
 
 " I say escape ! " said Jack, who had chivalrously de- 
 termined not to leave the poor baronet behind him a 
 prisoner. "I say escape! Rouse yourself! Shake off 
 the vapours that obscure your brain. I will lead you to 
 freedom ! " 
 
 " But my fetters," cried Sir Marmaduke. " I am held 
 fast here by a chain which would require a thousand times 
 my strength to snap asunder." 
 
 - " We will soon put that right," said Jack, cheerfully. 
 4 Very soon — you'll see ! It locks, I suppose." 
 » " Yes— yes/' 
 
 ' " Then you may depend somewhere about Wild's per- 
 son is the key that will unlock it. I will find it and set 
 tou free from that, at all events." 
 
 r Jack, as he spoke, knelt down beside Jonathan, and, 
 ^fter a brief examination of his pockets, brought out a 
 ♦mall bunch of keys. 
 
 Carrying them constantly in his pocket had given to 
 I .em a high degree of polish, and they glittered famtly 
 iu the lamp beams. 
 
 ■" Here you are," said Jack, as he rose, " Jonathan won't 
 v/ ike up just yet. Now, I will soon free you from that 
 ireumbrance. 
 
 With eager haste the poor prisoner held forward that 
 portion of his fetters where the lock was situated. 
 
 Jack had to make a good many trials before he found 
 "he right key. They were nearly all small enough to go 
 m the lock, but they would do no more. 
 
 I At length, as he took the keys regularly one after the 
 i-ther, he came to the right one. 
 . 'The bolt went back with a snap. 
 
 The chains which had so long cramped his limbs fell 
 ■ on the floor of the cell with a jingling sounc fe 
 
 • : Summon to your aid," said Jack, as ho led 611 ^nr- 
 maduke towards the door, " summon to your aid all the 
 strength you possess, for, rely upon me, you have need of 
 it. Let the thought of so speedily rejoining your wife 
 and children, of whom you profess to be so fond, nerve 
 you to the utmost. You can defy the villain Wild now, 
 and all his power. When you are once at liberty, you can 
 take such steps as will enable you to successfully elude his 
 fiendish malice. Come, come !" 
 
 " I will, my kind preserver," said Sir iviarmaduke, who 
 was rapidly recovering from the shock his mental system 
 had sustained. " Be patient with me, my young friend, 
 for young I. perceive you are. It will not be possible for 
 you to form any conception of the agony of all kinds I 
 have gone through. Do not wonder that, with starvation 
 superadded, I am the weak, miserable creature which you 
 see." 
 
 " I can imagine easily, from my short sojourn in the 
 adjoining cell, what you must have endured." 
 
 " You, too, then, were brought here a prisoner by that 
 monstrous villain, Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " I was." 
 
 " But you luckily escaped before the dampness of the 
 dungeon sapped your life-springs. To see me now and to 
 have seen me as I was a month ago, you would never 
 believe it was the same being." 
 
 " A month ? " 
 
 "Yes, such I believe is the time I have been incarcerated 
 here, though to me it has seemed more like an eternity 
 than thirty days." 
 
 " The time limps along but sluggishly under such cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 " It does — it does, indeed. But, my young friend, my 
 brain is confused ; let that be my excuse for not having 
 earlier attempted to find werds wherewith to express the 
 gratitude I owe you. Believe me I " — 
 
 " Don't say a word on that score," said Jack ; " I have 
 as yet done nothing except recovered the deed to which 
 you, in a moment of weakness, affixed your signature." 
 
 " Ah ! that deed of exheredation ! Where is it ? where 
 is it ? You have it, do you say ? " 
 
 The manner in which these words were jerked out 
 rather than enunciated testified to the anxiety of his 
 heart. 
 
 " It is here," said Jack, as he thrust the paper he had 
 taken from Wild into the baronet's hands ; " Do not stay 
 to look at it now," he added, as he saw he was about to 
 unfold it, " put it in your pocket." 
 
 " Why not destroy it ? " 
 
 " You can do so if you wish ; but think what an im- 
 portant link it will be in the evidence against Wild." 
 
 " You are right, my friend, it will. You are youthful 
 in appearance, but you have the wisdom of age. I will 
 keep the deed." 
 
 " Do so, sir ; but be careful not to lose it. You would 
 find it an awkward matter for yourself were it to get into 
 inimical hands." 
 
 " It would, indeed. There, it is quite safe now. 
 
 " You speak much better than you did." 
 
 "Oh! yes." 
 
 " That is well." 
 
 " I am much stronger. What you have said and done 
 has reinvigorated me to a greater extent than I believed 
 possible." 
 
 " I am most glad to hear it. But come, it is time we 
 left the precincts of this place. Let me go first. I 
 shall then be able to assist you to reach the passage." 
 
 " Thanks, my friend. But have you no name by which 
 I can call you ?•" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; mine is a very common sort of name." 
 
 " Let me hear it. It will always afford me pleasure to 
 pronounce it. What is it ? " 
 
 " Jack." 
 
 "John what?" 
 
 " No, not John ; but Jack, plain Jack. ' 
 
 " But you have a second name ? " 
 
 " I suppose I have." 
 
 " Then tell it me. Why do you manifest so much re- 
 luctance at doing so ? " 
 
 " I don't know, I'm sure, but my name s Jack bheppara, 
 and now let us be off." 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?"
 
 f 
 
 fto 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Jack Sheppard ! I repeat the name, my young frkg? . 
 in order to imprint it the more deeply on my memory.' 
 Believe ms, I shall never forget it, nor cease to feel grate- 
 ful for" — 
 
 "There, no more of that," said Jack, rather brusquely. 
 " It's really disagreeable to do anyone a good turn." 
 
 "My young friend," said Sir Marmaduke, who got 
 stronger every moment, " my young friend, I like you 
 none the worse for deprecating my gratitude. It is the 
 sign of a good nature. But since the verbal expression of 
 gratitude is so distasteful to you, permit me to make you 
 a suggestion." 
 
 " I cannot refuse," said Jack, who could not help feeling 
 some amount of awe at the dignity with which the worthy 
 baronet spoke. 
 
 " I know nothing of your position or occupation in life, 
 Jack Sheppard, but from your raiment I judge that it is 
 no better nor so good as it might be. Now, when I am 
 once free from this hateful place, I shall then be in a situa- 
 tion to make you some more tangible expression of grati- 
 tude than I could by mere lip service." 
 
 " Then let the offer stay till then," said Jack, as he 
 sprung up into the passage, and held out his arms to assist 
 Sir Marmaduke, who gladly accepted the proffered aid. 
 
 He stood for a moment to regain his breath, and then 
 he placed his hand detainingly upon Jack's arm. 
 
 " You rise still higher in my estimation. Suffer me to 
 speak. If you will permit me, I will see that your future 
 lot iu life is nearer what you wish than I am sure it is at 
 present." 
 
 " Sir ! " said Jack overcome by the generosity of the man 
 he saved, and the reflections to which his words had given 
 birth, " Sir, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, 
 and " — 
 
 " It is now my turn to interrupt," said the baronet, with 
 a wan smile. " I can assure you any thanks from you would 
 come with a bad grace, for you have nothing to be grate- 
 ful for." 
 
 " Nothing ! " repeated Jack. " If you but knew all, or 
 that I had seen you earlier." 
 
 " Remorse tinctures your voice," said Sir Marmaduke. 
 Surely, one so young and full of generous impulses asjou 
 are, can have done nothing serious of which you should 
 repent," 
 
 " There you mistake," said Jack, whose thoughts re- 
 verted to the young girl who had so unequivocally dis- 
 played the affection she felt for him, and how deeply he 
 was already stained with crime. " There you mistake. I 
 am already criminal." 
 
 " Criminal ! " said Sir Marmaduke, in accents of the 
 most intense surprise. " Criminal ? Impossible." 
 
 " And yet true," said Jack, mournfully. 
 
 His better angel was just then in the aseeadancy. 
 
 "But how am I to reconcile such a statement with 
 your behaviour to me?" asked Sir Marmaduke, with an 
 incredulous air. " There a ppeared nothing of the criminal 
 in that." 
 
 " Oh ! believe me, sir," said Jack, " I have been forced 
 by fate to be what I am. Not upon my head rests the 
 responsibilities of my actions, but upon others who made 
 me what I am." 
 
 " Your history must have been a strange one, and " 
 
 " But this is no time to tell it," said Jack, suddenly 
 recollecting his perilous position, of which, during the 
 brief but interesting colloquy, he had been equally as 
 oblivious as his companion. " We must turn our thoughts 
 to the mode in which we are to leave Wild's house. We 
 are, properly speaking, scarcely any freer than we were 
 iu the dungeon." 
 
 " Oh ! yes— oh ! yes," said Sir Marmaduke. " Mv mind 
 is restored to me ; my chains undone." 
 
 " I grant that, but Jonathan's house is not one wnich 
 you can walk out of unquestioned ; if we are to be free we 
 must fight our way over many an obstacle before we can 
 be so." 
 
 " I am reaa) , my young friend, to place myself entirely 
 under your guidance, and act as you mav think proper to 
 iirect. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD RECOVERS FROM HIS SWOON, AND TAKES 
 SOME RATHER ENERGETIC PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 " Then," said Jack Sheppard, " the best thing we can do 
 is to make sure of one thing." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " Why, if Jonathan Wild should wake up rather sooner 
 than I expect, he will find if. impossible to follow us very 
 quickly." 
 
 " No, no ; stay." 
 
 " For what ? " 
 
 " Surely you cannot contemplate ocsh ft deed. Leave 
 him to the punishment of his own guilty thoughts." 
 
 " Eh ? " said Jack, who was quite in a fog. 
 
 " Spare his life. Surely you cannot murder him ? " 
 
 " Murder him," said Jack ; " bless you, I would not on 
 any account cheat the hangman of his due." 
 
 Forgive me," said Sir Marmaduke, " for doing you 
 so much injustice as to think you capable of such a deed ; 
 and yet I thought your words implied as much." 
 
 " I meant no more than I said," replied Jack, " and 
 this is it." 
 
 As he spoke, he shut the door of the cell in which Wild 
 lay so motionlessly. 
 
 The key was in the lock. 
 
 To turn this was the work of a moment. 
 
 Then he shot the two bolts into their sockets. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was a prisoner in one of his own dun- 
 geons. 
 
 " There ! " said Sheppard, with an air of the greatest 
 satisfaction, " he'll have some little trouble in getting out 
 of that, I rather think, or giving the alarm to any of his 
 men." 
 
 " So I think ; but now, my young friend, having dis- 
 posed of him, what do you intend to do next ? " 
 
 " That, sir, is more than I can tell you, beyond making 
 the attempt to leave his house with all speed possible." 
 
 " Yes, yes ; which is the way ? " 
 
 " I am again at a loss," said Jack, as he held the 
 lantern above him so as to diffuse its rays as much as 
 possible, " I know no more of this place than I was 
 likely to gather from being dragged into it a prisoner." 
 
 " It cannot much matter, said Sir Marmaduke, " which 
 way we turn. I think it almost certain the passage can- 
 not be of any extraordinary length." 
 
 " Wo, certainly not, so we should soon come to the end 
 of it. Come, let us take the turning to the right." 
 
 As it so happened, this was turning away from the 
 secret door that led to Wild's other cells, and as we stated 
 upon a former occasion, Sir Marmaduke's cell was the last 
 but one in the row, they were not long coming to its ter- 
 mination. 
 
 In fact, they saw the wall of which the end was com- 
 posed without knowing what it was. Being of one 
 uniform black tint, they took it to be merely darkness. 
 
 When they found, however, it was a complete and solid 
 obstacle to their further progress, Jack said — 
 
 " Well, this has not been much trouble, has it ?" 
 
 " Can you see no outlet ? " asked Sir Marmaduke, 
 anxiously. 
 
 "None." 
 
 "No door?" 
 
 " No. This, I take u, is the wrong end of the passage 
 altogether." 
 
 " But what is that to your left hand ? " , 
 
 " Only one of the cell doors, I think. You will perceive 
 it differs in no respect from the rest." 
 
 " I see now. Then you think at the other end we shall 
 find an egress ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes. Make haste. We have already wasted teo 
 much time." 
 
 Both now hurried along the passage with as much speed 
 as they could, and in a few seconds they reached the secret 
 door. 
 
 But it was a secret door on the other side only . 
 
 The spring by which it was secured was plainly 
 visible. 
 \ Jack was just on the point of pressing on the spring 
 when Sir Marmaduke stayed him. 
 
 " What is it ?" asked Jack, with some impatience. 
 
 " My young friend, I have a proposition to make to jou. 
 If you decline it, well and good ; if you accept it, as I 
 think you will, it will be the means of raising you to a 
 still greater height in my estimation,"
 
 BLTJKESIN : AROMANCE. 
 
 61 
 
 " Speak," said Sheppard. " What is it ? " 
 
 " This : I do not know whether there may or may not 
 be in these dungeons some other unfortunates like myself, 
 the victims of Wild's brutality. You have in your hand 
 the key with which you locked my dungeon door. It will 
 be the work but of a few moments to unlock all the other 
 cells, and make sure that neither has an inmate." 
 
 " It shall be done." said Jack, " I ought to have thought 
 of that myself." 
 
 " It is rather surprising neither of us thought about it 
 earlier than we did. But, however, *ve have thought of it 
 in time." 
 
 "Just so, and if we find in the dungeons \>nry one 
 prisoner, our work will not have been in vain." 
 
 " I am rejoiced," said Sir Marmaduke, as they both 
 together made their way to the first of the cella, " to hear 
 you speak of the matter as you do." 
 
 " I can feel for others in the same predicament as 
 myself, and think what I should like some one else to do 
 for me were they in my position." 
 
 " Exactly. That is a simple- and a just method of look- 
 ing at the matter." 
 
 "Hold the lantern, Sir Marmaduke," said Jack, "and 
 then I shall be able to see what I am about." 
 
 " Willingly." 
 
 Jack now, having his hands quite unencumbered, drew 
 back the bolts at the top and bottom of the door. 
 
 Then he fitted the key into the lock. 
 
 Or rather he attempted to do so. 
 
 He discovered that Wild had been too cunning to have 
 the locks on the cell doors all made after one pattern. 
 
 " We are done," said Jack, as he rapidly tried in suc- 
 cession the other doors. " It's no go." 
 
 " I am disappointed." 
 
 " And I am vexed." 
 
 " Let us tap at the different doors." 
 
 " I don't much like that. It can't be an over-satisfactory 
 way of assuring ourselves no one is within." 
 What else can we do ? " 
 
 " It's rather hazaidoui "' 
 
 " Then don't attempt it." 
 
 " That would not deter me. The thought of what peril 
 I might encounter never made me hang back." 
 
 " There is a difference between despising danger and 
 being temerarious." 
 
 " I tell you what I am going to do." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 "Jonathan Wild, I have been told, has a master-key 
 that will open every lock in his house." 
 
 " Yes — yes. Go on." 
 
 " This key he wears always suspended from his neck by 
 means of a steel chain." 
 
 "But— but" 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " You don't intend, surely, to run such a frightful risk 
 as to re-enter the cell where the villain is, and attempt to 
 take it from him ?" 
 
 " I do, though ; and, what is more, will have it." 
 
 " Oh ! my young friend, be guided by me in this 
 matter." 
 
 " The danger is not worth mentioning. Jonathan 
 cannot possibly, in this short time, have recovered from 
 my treatment, and when he does I fancy he will be dis- 
 abled a little." 
 
 While speaking these words, Jack boldly enough un- 
 locked and unbolted the door, and then flung it open. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke shrunk back. 
 
 But feeling deeply ashamed of this manifestation of 
 timidity, he came quite up to the threshold. 
 
 " Hold the light, Sir Marmaduke," said Jack. " Do 
 not descend yourself, it is perfectly unnecessary." 
 
 Jack jumped lightly down into the call, and ->nade his 
 way direct to the spot where Jonathan was. 
 
 Now, this fearlessness of demeanour was, to a great 
 extent assumed, for Jack knew Wild was quite cunning 
 enough, when he heard them coming, to be quite still, 
 and pretend to be insensible until he actually reached hirh, 
 and, when quite off his cuard, to spring up suddenlv *ad 
 take him by the throat, 
 
 So, although Jack knelt down beside the thief-taker 
 with assumptive carelessness, yet he waa on the look out 
 fer some such eve r > 
 
 Jonathan, however, lay profoundly still, and was 
 •till perfectly insensible. 
 
 It was easy enough to find the chain that Jack knew 
 he wore round his neck, and he pulled it off rather 
 roughly. 
 
 Wild roused a little. 
 
 But Jack, having the master key firm iu his grasp, 
 jumped out of the cell, and slammed the door. 
 
 Mingled with the sound, there came from the interior 
 of the dungeon an awful sound, such as no human being 
 could possiby be supposed to produce. 
 
 " All right," said Jack, as he fastened the door care- 
 fully. " He will soon get tired of that sort of fun." 
 
 " Yes, but think how jeopardous would have been our 
 situation if he had recovered before you could have 
 left the cell." 
 
 " It would, I confess," said Jack, " but he didn't, so it 
 is not worth while to speculate about it." 
 
 " You take things lightly." 
 
 "Sometimes. But let us, if we are to examine the 
 other cells, begin at once, because every moment that we 
 stay only increases the difficulty we shall find in leaving." 
 
 " There are two we shan't want to look into at all," 
 said Sir Marmaduke. " One is the cell you have just 
 left, and the other the one in which you wene con- 
 fined." 
 
 The change that had taken place in Sir Marmaduke 
 Osborn was really wonderful. He no longer looked the 
 same being. The abject, squalid aspect that he had worn 
 disappeared. He held himself erectly, and though very 
 weak, walked with a firm tread. 
 
 From the wreck he then was, after having survived the 
 horrors of so long a confinement in a pestiferous dungeon, 
 it was easy to see what he had been. 
 
 The simple fact of his having borne in mind that Wild 
 might have other prisoners besides himself and the desire 
 he expressed that they should be set free, suffices better 
 than a whole page of laudatory matter to show the good- 
 ness of his heart, the unselfishness of his disposition. 
 
 Indeed, we think that under the circumstances, few 
 persons indeed would be found who would be able to think 
 of what others were suffering at that very moment. 
 
 " Let us go to the end of the passage," said Jack. " You 
 know where I mean ? " 
 
 " Yes, where the wall is, and the door I spoke to you 
 about." 
 
 " Just so. Let that be the first we open. We will then 
 take the others in succession." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " If we do this, it will leave us when we have done close 
 to the secret door, which will save us going over the 
 ground unnecessarily." 
 
 This was obviously a capital arrangement. So they 
 walked straight to the door which the baronet had 
 noticed. 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 sir marmaduke's evil destiny still prevails, and 
 
 hurries him to destruction. 
 That they new stood upon the threshold of making some 
 very remarkable discoveries in connection with the cells 
 beneath Jonathan Wild's house in Newgate-street, Jack 
 Sheppard and Sir Marmaduke Osborn did not entertain a 
 doubt. 
 
 But Jack did not stop to speculate upou what was 
 going to happen next, but proceeded to act without 
 delay. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke still had the lantern in his grasp. 
 
 This, therefore, left Sheppard with both his hands at 
 liberty. 
 
 He held up the master key. 
 
 Now, as this was rather a remarkable-looking instru- 
 ment, we think it no more than right that a line or two 
 should be occupied in its description. 
 
 It was formed of two pieces of steel each about four 
 inches in length. 
 
 These two pieces had been ia.J cje over the other, 
 rectangularly, and then welded together so that it was in 
 the form of a perfect cross. 
 
 Each of the four extremities of this cross were wrought 
 into the shape of a key, but they all differed widely from 
 each other, inasmuch as that one could only be used for 
 opening a very small box indeed, while the largest 
 would fit into a regular door lock.
 
 68 
 
 BLTmSKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Of course, the impossibility of having a single key that 
 would open indiscriminately locks of all sizes, must be at 
 once apparent, but by having four master-keys of different 
 sizes made into one instrument, Jonathan had every lock 
 in his dwelling at his command, from the biggest to the 
 
 This insUumeir; would of necessity be an inraluable , 
 auxiliary to the two prisoners in consummating their re- 
 lease, as well as enable them to inspect the whole of the 
 series of dungeons. . , 
 
 A glance at the size of the keyhole was sufficient to 
 show Jack which was the key to be used, so he fitted it in 
 and turned it round. 
 
 The bolt of the lock shot back with the greatest ease. 
 
 Jack next proceeded to draw back the bolts, when he 
 perceived to his surprise that they had not been shot into 
 their sockets. 
 
 " That doesn't look as though any one was in here, said 
 Jack, as he kicked the door open with his foot. " Stand 
 aside a moment, Sir Marmaduke, and let the foul air, if 
 there be any, escape before you attempt to enter." 
 
 It was well Jaok thought of taking this precaution, for 
 though they both retreated to the opposite wall, yet even 
 then they were not free from the noxious vapour. 
 
 The lamp which they carried burned dimly, and gave 
 forth but little light. . 
 
 In a few minutes, however, the fresh air mingled with 
 the foul, and when the lantern burned as it had done for- 
 merly they ventured to enter the cell. 
 
 Jack went first. 
 ' Sir Marmaduke, with some little difficulty, followed 
 him. 
 
 On reaching the centre of this place they both, by 
 common consent, paused to look about them. 
 
 There was little food for curiosity. 
 
 A glance showed them it was quite vacant. 
 
 In shape and size it was in every respect similar to the 
 one in which Sir Marmaduke had been confined, probably 
 enough they had all been constructed after one model. 
 
 " There's nobody here," said Jack, " that's clear enough 
 now, there hasn't been for some time, I should say." 
 
 " No, as you say, there is no one here," repeated Sir 
 Marmaduke. " Let us hope that we may find all the 
 others without tenants." 
 
 " I do hope it, I can assure you," replied Jack ; " not, 
 however, from the same motive as you do." 
 
 " What is it, then ? " 
 
 " Why, there is no disguising the fact that the presence 
 of one or two prisoners would be a great-impediment to 
 our ultimate escape." 
 
 " Do you think so, my friend." 
 
 " 1 am sure of it. Nevertheless, the thought of that 
 would never have sufficient weight with me to make me 
 leave any one here exposed to Wild's tender mercies." 
 
 " That is right, that is right. I will hold the light so 
 that we can take one last look around this dungeon, and 
 then we will depart." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke elevated the lantern as he spoke, and 
 directed the beam of light which issued through the lens, 
 successively upon every part — floor, walls, and roof. 
 
 Nothing but the bare damp walls met their gaze. 
 
 " Quick ! " said Jack. " We must be more expeditious 
 with the others, or we shall not be out of the place before 
 Wild is missed. "Quick! quick!" 
 
 He regained the passage as he spoke, and helped Sir 
 Marmaduke to do likewise. 
 
 The next cell to that which they had just visited was 
 the one in which Jonathan was in durance. 
 
 Jack could not resist the impulse to make some appeal 
 to him. 
 
 He knocked sharply therefore upon the door with the 
 master key. 
 
 A murmuring voice followed, as though Wild had made 
 some verbal reply, but the door was too thick and strong 
 to allow of the penetration of a human voice. 
 
 It was succeeded by a furious hammering, that threat- 
 ened to break in the panels. 
 
 " What a horrible noise," said Jack. " I wish I corbel 
 stop him. If he keeps that sort of thing going he » •• 1 
 surely be heard by some of his janizaries.' 
 
 " Come away — come away," said Sir Marmaduke, v l 
 half-terrified voice. " Come away at once." 
 
 It was a lucky thing for Jack that he followed his ct^_,- 
 <panion's advice so quickly as he did, for the knocking 
 
 ceased suddenly, and then a bullet came crashing through \ 
 the door. 
 
 The report mingled with the sound, and if Jack had not 
 just then stepped aside, the bullet would have assuredly 
 have found a resting place in his body. 
 
 As it was it flattened itself againet the stone wall op- 
 posite. 
 
 It is rather surprising that Wild did not tire a pistol 
 through the door before, but his brain just then was not 
 in a very lucid state. 
 
 Most unquestionably had he been in his ordinary state 
 of mind, the first thing he would have done would be to 
 reply to the knocking by firing his pistol in that direction. 
 But the hard blows Jack had given him had deranged 
 his head-piece not a little. Indeed, it is something to 
 wonder at that he recovered at all. 
 
 " Let us go, my young friend, let us go. Every moment 
 now must increase the chance of our discovery. Indeed, 
 the noise that has just been made cannot fail to have been 
 heard by some of Wild's men." 
 
 " If they don't hear that," replied Jack, with a smile, 
 " I rather think they won't hear any other noise we can 
 make." 
 
 " Hasten, hasten," said Sir Marmaduke, whose nerves 
 seemed to be again unhinged. " You don't know what 
 may be the extent of that man's power even now." 
 
 " It strikes me," replied Jack Sheppard, " that it is 
 confined to making a noise. But come, sir. Rouse your- 
 self. Shake off your fears. Our danger now is very little, 
 if any, greater than it was. We have yet to accomplish 
 our task." 
 
 "True," said the baronet, recovering himself by an 
 effort, " this is your cell door, is it not, and so there is no 
 need of our entering that." 
 
 " None in the least, I can assure you." 
 They walked on now until they came to the next cell. 
 With all the speed possible Jack undid the fastenings. 
 When the door was opened, they again took care to 
 stand and let the pure air disperse. 
 
 But this time they found mingled with it such a frightful 
 odour, that it was full ten minutes before they could enter 
 the cell. 
 
 " Hilloa ! " said Jack, as he stood upon the threshold 
 and peeped in, while Sir Marmaduke held the lamp over 
 his shoulder. " Hilloa ! I say, is there anybody here ? " 
 
 A prodigious scuffling sound followed his words, and 
 thevi all was still. 
 
 " Hilloa ! " said Jack again, " we are friends come to 
 release you. If there is anyone here, let them speak." 
 The echo of Jack's voice died away. 
 The silence of the tomb succeeded. 
 " This, too, is vacant," said Sir Marmaduke. " Let us 
 try the next.' ' 
 
 " No — no," said Jack, " did you not hear that strange 
 noise when I spoke ? What can it be ? " 
 " Rats, perhaps." 
 
 " Most likely ; but still," said Jack, " I should not like 
 to leave this place until I had first satisfied myself by a 
 personal visit that there was no one in it." 
 " Very well, my friend." 
 
 " Do not, however, Sir Marmaduke, I beg, fatigue your- 
 self by descending too. If you will stand upon the steps 
 with the lantern in your hand that will be all that I 
 require." 
 
 " Be careful," said the baronet, as Jack jumped down 
 in the dungeon, the floors of every one of which were 
 between two and three feet below the level of the 
 passage. 
 
 Jack's eyes were keen and accustomed to the very faint 
 and dubious sort of twilight that filled the cell, and lie 
 uttered an exclamation as his eye fell upon some dark- 
 looking object at its further extremity. 
 
 "What is it? — what is it?" asked Sir Marmaduke, 
 hurriedly descending. " What have you found ? " 
 
 Jack pointed to the dark object, and then slowly they 
 both walked towards it. 
 
 There was something in both theii ui eu^s which seemed 
 to tell them what this dark object was. 
 
 But neither gave utterance to their convictions. 
 A few paces more, and they reached it. 
 It was a dead body, but so horribly mutilated and dis- 
 figured that, had it not been for the shreds of clothing 
 which hung here and there about it, they could not havs 
 more than guessed at what it was.
 
 I 
 
 BLT7BSKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 43 
 
 These shieds of clothing also served to tell them the 
 sex. 
 
 The buttons that were in different places upon it, and 
 the raateriarfproclaimed it to be a male. 
 
 For a few seconds Jack Sheppard and Sir Marmaduke 
 stood gazing upon these remnants of mortality, fr*" 1 then 
 the latter spoke. 
 
 "Another victim ot" that accursed villain, Jonathan 
 Wild. Good heavens! that such things should be allowed 
 to happen with impunity is enough to shake one's faith 
 in an all-presiding Power, for, if this was not a. case in 
 which to interfere, there oertainly can be none.''' 
 
 " I wonder who he is," asked Jack, " for a he he is, 
 beyond a doubt. Perhaps some infernal rascal as bad as 
 Wild himself." 
 
 " No, no, that cannot be. Ferocious animals do not 
 prey on their own species. Jonathan Wild is in antago- 
 nism only with the innocent and good." 
 
 " The rats have had a rare feast off him, that's certain," 
 said Jack, who was more engrossed by the frightful spec- 
 tacle before him than he was with his companion's reflec- 
 tions. " They have eaten his face right away." 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAKD AND SIR MARMADUKE EXPLORE THE 
 SECRET DUNGEONS BENEATH WILD'S HOUSE. 
 
 " Horrible, horrible, most horrible ! " said Sir Marma- 
 duke, as with a shudder he turned away. And it is from 
 such a fate as this that you have doubtless rescued me. 
 Oh ! my young friend, how can I be sufficiently grateful 
 to you ? But my actions shall speak that which my 
 tongue cannot." 
 
 " Poor fellow," said Jaek : " I wonder now who he 
 could have been, and why he was left to die such a death 
 as this ? " 
 
 " That, in all probability, we shall never know," replied 
 the baronet, " unless the unfortunate man has left some- 
 thing by which we can trace out his identity." 
 
 " If he has done so I am afraid we are too late to find 
 it. Almost everything appears to be destroyed. Lend 
 me the lantern, sir, and let me take a closer look." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke gave the lantern to Jack, who, taking 
 it in his hand, stooped over the prostrate form. 
 
 Narrowly, very narrowly, did Jack look about hirn for 
 some such indication as he sought, but vainly. There was 
 nothing. 
 
 The only piece of clothing that was really worthy of 
 f be name was the lappel of a coat, and though Jack could 
 see the pocket in it yet he shrank from putting in his 
 hand. 
 
 But it was only for about half a moment that this feel- 
 ing had the mastery of him. 
 
 At the end of that brief space of time he, with an air 
 of desperate resolution, stooped down and introduced 
 his hand into the pocket. 
 
 Somehow the presence of the pocket in that position, 
 and the fact that every other portion of the unfortunate 
 prisoner's apparel had, with the exception of a few shreds 
 disappeared, engendered the notion in his mind that in 
 iiiat pocket would be found evidence to show who it really 
 was. 
 
 But in this anticipation he was doomed to be disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 The pocket was quite empty. 
 
 He was about to rise after having given vent to an ex- 
 clamation, when the rays of the lantern happened to fall 
 upon the wall near him . 
 
 Some strange scratches were visible. 
 
 " A clue, Sir Marmaduke ! A clue ! " he said. 
 
 " Where ? 
 
 " On the wall here, sir. If you stoop ever so little you 
 will be able to see it." 
 
 Despite the repugnance which a man of fcuca refined 
 sensibilities as Sir Marmaduke Osborn would naturally 
 feel at drawing closer to so loathsome an object as thai 
 before him, yet the intense curiosity he felt to gain some 
 kind of information relative to Wild's victim submerged 
 it ~ • 
 
 Ha stooped. 
 
 He saw the scratches on the wall. 
 They were nothing more than scratches. 
 "Can you make out what it says, my young friend P " 
 asked the baronet* for as Jack was the nearest, and besides 
 
 held the light, he had the best opportunity of discovering 
 the signification of the marks. " Are they words ? " 
 
 "Yes," said Jack, " they are words, that's true enough, 
 but I can't make them out. I can read too." 
 
 " Let me try." 
 
 " I was going to ask you, sir, only I did not like to con- 
 fess myself beaten." 
 
 " I daresay I shall be able to decipher it," said the 
 baronet. 
 
 He took the light as he spoke, and getting as close to 
 the wall as he could, strove his utmost to discover what 
 the scratches meant. 
 
 That they were intended to represent letters could be 
 seen at the first glance, but they were made in such an 
 eccentric fashion that it was next to an impossibility to 
 tell for what they were actually intended. 
 
 They extended, too, for some distance in a devious way 
 along the wall. 
 
 By confining himself to the study of one character at 
 the time he was able to unravel the whole. 
 
 The instrument, whatever it might have been, with 
 which the letters were indented upon the wall, was clearly 
 ill adapted for the task. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke repeated the letters one by one as he 
 made them out. 
 
 We have said they extended for some distance along the 
 dungeon wall. 
 
 This would, of course, convey the idea that it was a sen- 
 tence of considerable length. 
 
 But such, indeed, was very far from being the case. 
 
 The sentence was a short one, and its extent was caused 
 solely by the straggling manner in which the characters 
 were formed, and the distance they were one from 
 another. 
 
 The words were as follows : — 
 
 " I die of starvation — a victim of Wild's miscreancy. 
 My name is Robl " 
 
 That was all. 
 
 Jack drew a long breath. 
 
 " What is his name ? " he asked. 
 
 " I cannot tell further than those four letters." 
 
 " Are you sure there are no more ? " 
 
 " Quite ! It seems to me as though he had endeavoured 
 to go on, but there is only a little stroke." 
 
 " But," said Jack, as he bent forward to examine the 
 last word of the inscription. " What could be his name ? 
 That is what puzzles me." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I mean, what name is there beginning with Robl ?" 
 
 " There you puzzle me." 
 
 " Are you sure it is not intended for an e ? They would 
 then be the first letters of the name Robert ! " 
 
 " It would. But it is an 1 I am convinced of that. If 
 you look you will see that it is, if anything higher than the 
 b before it. Now, no one would think of making an e 
 like that." 
 
 " Well, I suppose not," said Jack, in a half-satisfied 
 tone. " I should like to have known Ms name, for all 
 that." 
 
 "And so should I. In that respect I am equally as 
 curious as yourself." 
 
 " It is so vexatious," said Jack, that he should have 
 begun to write his name and then left off in the middle 
 of it." 
 
 " You are right, and yet, perhaps" 
 
 " Perhaps, what ?" 
 
 " Death might, in some sudden shape, have come upon 
 him and cut short his work." 
 
 " That is likely enough, or else he found himself with- 
 out strength to write more." 
 
 " It was one of those, you may depend. How strange 
 and terrible! Never before did anvthing so excite my 
 curiosity." 
 
 " And no wonder," replied Jack, who was, if anything, 
 the more inwrapt of the two. " It is the most dreadful 
 thing I have ever seen or heard of." 
 
 " You may depend, the house of that arch fiead in 
 human form is full of horrors." 
 
 " N# doubt— nodoubt J " 
 Let us" take one more glance arouna us, and leave the 
 place. We can do no good here." 
 
 " None ! " said Jaok ; " and, besides, our present posi- 
 tion is full of danger. I forgot everything in the discover* 
 we have just made." ^ *
 
 *4 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 This was true ou the part of both. Already, for their 
 safety, had they wasted too much time. 
 
 With this conviction pressing upon their mindi, they 
 were not long reaching the passage. 
 
 They paused here for a moment and listened, but all 
 was still, with the exception of a hammering which Wild 
 kept lip with untiring energy. 
 
 However, as is not unfrequently the case, the pre- 
 cautions he had taken to prevent the penetration of sound 
 through the door of that gloomy region now militated 
 against him, 
 
 Jack Sheppard and his companion paid no attention to 
 this. They knew well enough that it was out of their 
 power to prevent Wild making as much noise as he thougt 
 proper. 
 
 To have simply asked him to desist would have been 
 ridiculous, and the means, in all probability, of causing him 
 to make more. 
 
 There was no small amount of satisfaction to be derived 
 from the circumstance that no alarm had as yet been 
 raised. 
 
 The other dungeons, which Jack would insist upon 
 thoroughly examining, did not repay them for their trouble, 
 for they were without occupants. 
 
 They were, however, at ease upon one point. 
 
 And that was, with the exception of the villainous 
 thief-taker himself, there was no living being in any one 
 of those cells. 
 
 Once more, then, they stood near to that secret door, 
 which, however, was anything but secret on the side upon 
 which they stood. 
 
 Before, however, Jack ventured to press upon the spring, 
 ho thought it would be only prudent to ascertain by listeu- 
 iug whether the coast was clear. 
 
 He therefore applied his ear to the woodwork. 
 
 The hammering noise Wild was making rather confused 
 him. 
 
 But he listened as attentively as he could. 
 
 To the best of his belief there was no one in the passage 
 on the other side. 
 
 This locality has already, in a former chapter, been 
 described, but yet we think there can be no great harm 
 dune by reminding the reader that this passage, having a 
 secret door at one end of it, had a very massive one at the 
 other. 
 
 Beyond this there was a flight of stone steps, which 
 conducted to the hall of Jonathan Wild's house. 
 
 At the end of these steps was an iron-door, made 
 after the fashion of a gate. 
 
 This door was very strong indeed, besides which, night 
 and day, a man always sat there on guard, who was able 
 at once both to see and to hear whether anyone ascended 
 rne steps. 
 
 That a person would be able to do so without attracting 
 his attention was almost an impossibility, unless, indeed?* 
 he had been sound asleep. 
 
 But Wild, who omitted no precaution to prevent a 
 prisoner's escape, and knowing full well that sleeping on 
 their lonely posts was a thing his men were much 
 addicted to, he took measures to guard against this con- 
 tingency by making it out of the question for anyone to 
 open the iron door without waking him. 
 
 This he accomplished by connecting his seat in such a 
 manner with the gate, that if he sat upon it, while the 
 door was opened, he would inevitably fall to the ground, 
 which circumstance, it is only fair to infer, could scarcely 
 fail of having the desired effect of arousing him. 
 
 Beyond this iron gate again was the street-door, at 
 which, as we have often had occasion to state, a man was 
 invariably stationed. 
 
 The street-door was always fastened, and tin .^ocenings 
 themselves were of such a complicated description, that 
 anyone not acquainted with them, would have no small 
 amount of difficulty in removing them. 
 
 Truly was Jonathan deserving of some amount of praise 
 ft >r the cunning steps he had taken to prevent the escape 
 of those who might be unfortunate enough to fall into his 
 clutches. 
 
 The contemplation of such obstacles would surely nave 
 the effect of daunting anyone. To hope to overcome 
 such a complication of defences must be little short cf 
 madness. 
 
 From this it will be apparent, that though Jack had 
 actually made hia way out of his cell, and knew the 
 
 means by which the secret door might be opened, yet he 
 was a very long way indeed from having achieved his 
 freofJnja, 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 FRESH OBSTACLES KISE UP BETWEEN THE PKIS'JN US A>!D 
 FREEDOM. 
 
 The longer Jack listened at the panel of the secret door, 
 the more certain he became that there was no one in the 
 passage on the other side of it. 
 
 "All's well!" he said, as he once more assumed a 
 standing posture. 
 
 " Are you sure ?" asked Sir Marmaduke, anxiously. 
 
 "Sure of what?" 
 
 " That all is well." 
 
 " Yes. At least, as well as we could expect. There is 
 no one in the passage." 
 
 " Then all is well, surely." 
 
 " So far, I say, it is ; but there are other circumstances 
 which require to be taken into consideration." 
 
 " Speak — speak ! " said Sir Marmaduke, over whom 
 there came a fresh access of his former terror. " Let me 
 hear the worst at once ! " 
 
 " Do not agitate yourself, sir," said Jack. " You must, 
 if you wish to succeed in the present enterprise, be calm 
 and cool." 
 
 " You are right, my friend. Time was when I should 
 have taken the lead in an affair like this ; but my long 
 sojourn here, deprived of light and the common necessaries 
 of life, as well as suffering the most horrible persecution, 
 has completely shattered me." 
 
 "Not 60 — not so," replied Jack, soothingly. "You 
 have borne up bravely against it all. It is only by chance 
 you lose command of yourself, that is all." 
 
 " But what where you going to say when I allowed my- 
 self to be so foolishly overcome with apprehensive dread ? 
 Speak, and let me know all." 
 
 " It is principally this," said Jack. " You hear what 
 an incessant din Wild makes ? " 
 
 " I cannot fail to do so." 
 
 " This secret door, you understand, by fitting so elosely 
 in its setting as it doubtless does, prevents the sound from 
 going further than whei'e it is, but the moment we open 
 that door to pass out, we cannot at (he same time avoid 
 the sound escaping also." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke was silent for a moment, and then he 
 said — 
 
 " It is, indeed, a serious matter, and one deserving of 
 deliberation, and yet how to prevent it I cannot tell." 
 
 " Nor I, because there is not the faintest hope of getting 
 Wild to desist." 
 
 " You think not ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it. The only thing we can do is to open 
 the door, and pass out as quickly as possible." 
 
 " But let us do this as quickly as we will, we cannot 
 prevent the noise reaching the eai's of some of his men, 
 who would, of course, sumtise that something was amiss." 
 
 " I know all that. But what is to be done ? We can- 
 not stay here." 
 
 " That is quite evident. Could you not manage, thiut". 
 you, to cause Wild to desist for ever so short a time ? "* 
 
 Jack shook his heaO. slowly. 
 
 " I fear not," he said. 
 
 " And yet it is worth a trial ; because, if you could only 
 devise some stratagem to keep him quiet for a few second 8, 
 we should be all right, and he could hammer away then 
 to his heart's content." 
 
 " But what stratagem can we adopt ? " 
 
 " There I am at a loss. I can see only the necessity of 
 one of some kind ; for, from what you have said, I think 
 it is pretty clear our discovery is inevitable if we open the 
 door while he keeps making that noise." 
 
 " I can only think of one plan," said Jack, after a mi- 
 nute or two's thought, " and that is so defective that it is 
 as bad as no plan at all." 
 
 " Let me hear it, my friend ; perhaps l can furnish you 
 with a hint or two." 
 
 " It is this. I thought of showing you how to open the 
 door, and then myself going back to the cell door, and 
 endeavour to get Wild into conversation. In the mean- 
 time, you would open the door and pass through it. As t 
 soon as you had done this, I would follow your example, 
 and perhaps be able to shut the door before Wild quit*
 
 BLU£SKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 [BLUESKIN INTERPOSES BETWEEN EHGWORTH BESS AND JONATHAN WILD'S MYRMIDONS] 
 
 recovered from his astonishment. What do you think of 
 it?" 
 
 " Why, that it has every chance of answering our pur- 
 pose ; that is, if you can succeed in attracting Wild's at- 
 tention for a minute or two." 
 
 " I fear he will see through the whole manoeuver, and, 
 hi consequence, make more noise than ever. Still, as it 
 appears to be our last chance, I think it had better be 
 tried." 
 
 " Oh ! by all means. And now, my friend, how does 
 the door open ? " < 
 
 " Without the least difficulty whatever. All you have 
 got to do is to press ur'^n this portion of the spring, and it 
 flies open at once." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " You think you will be able to manage it." 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Then I am off. Above all, mind you take advantage 
 of the very instant he desists, and open it and pass 
 
 through. You may depend upon my being at your side 
 immediately." 
 
 " Leave that to me," said Sir Marmaduke, and now to 
 do jour portion, which is by far the most difficult and 
 hazardous." 
 
 Jack Sheppard did not wait to say anything further, 
 but seeing that all the arrangements were made, he ran 
 along the corridor to the door of Wild's cell, trking care 
 to make plenty of noise in his progress. 
 
 The perseverance with which Wild continue i his ham- 
 mering at tbe door was really surprising. 
 
 But he had a deeper motive than Jack at ali imagined. 
 
 What that was will very quickly be apparent. 
 
 It is very doubtful whether Jonathan heard Jack's ap- 
 proach, but if he did, it is quite certain be took no sort 
 of notice, but went on as though he was working for bis 
 life. 
 
 Now Jack, on the former occasion, had seen the extreme 
 peril and impolicy of standing before the door while he 
 knocked at it, and he determined not to run the risk of a 
 
 No. 9.
 
 «6 
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 foanoe bullet, if Jonathan bad taken it into bis bead to 
 fire another at random through the door. 
 
 Jack accordingly took up bis station with bis back 
 against tbe wall, so that by reaching out bis arm be could 
 reach the door. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke watched bis motions with tbe most 
 feverish impatience. 
 
 Jack took from his pocket the clasp knife which nad 
 done him such good service at the " Grange." 
 
 It was a large and formidable-looking affair with a very 
 large bone baft. 
 The baronet's impatience merged into curiosity. 
 But he soon saw to what purpose he was going to put 
 bis knife. 
 
 Holding it firmly in his hand, with the butt downwards, 
 Jack extended bis arm, and knocked loudly at the cell 
 door. 
 
 Tbe sharp rapping sound, which he thus produced, 
 made itself heard above tbe din. 
 Wild heard it. 
 He stopped at once. 
 
 Making a rapid motion with one band to Sir Marmaduke 
 to open the door and get through it, Jack knocked again 
 three times, distinctly and deliberately. 
 Then he waited for a reply. 
 
 It came in tbe shape of a wild animal sort of howl, 
 which, even through tbe thick cell door, could be heard 
 with tolerable plainness. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " said Jack, in a loud tone, and then, 
 turning to Sir Marmaduke, be added, in an emphatic 
 whisper, " Quick ! quick ! open the door ! " 
 
 " I cannot," groaned tbe baronet, " tbe spring does not 
 act." 
 " Curses ! " 
 
 " It is quite firm ! We are lost ! " 
 Anotber howl came from Wild's cell. 
 He could tell something unusual was going on, but 
 what it was he could not exactly make out. 
 
 Besides, his head was by no means in that clear con- 
 dition that it usually was. 
 
 Jack bad no other resource, so he tapped again. 
 "Jonathan Wild!" be said. "Jonathan Wild! Do 
 you bear me speak ? " 
 
 " Yes," Jack beard him reply. " Who is it ? Let me 
 out at once ! " 
 
 From this speech it was pretty clear that Wild did not 
 recognize Jack's voice. 
 
 At least, Jack thought so, but after all Jonathan might 
 ouly be playing some deep game. 
 He was at a loss what to say. 
 
 " I will pretend I have not beard him, and ask him to 
 speak again, and then be off." 
 
 At this moment Sir Marmaduke pressed upon the 
 spring in tbe right mariner, and tbe secret dcor flew 
 open. 
 
 He passed tbrougb it instantly 
 
 "What did you say?" cried Jack. Speak louder, I 
 cannot bear you ! " 
 
 Then, in accordance with his plan, he did not stop to 
 bear bis reply, but ran swiftly, yet lightly, to the secret 
 door, and closed it after him. 
 One difficulty was overcome. 
 
 Both the fugitives crouched as close to the wall then as 
 they could, and Hstened. 
 All was still. 
 
 The darkness in tbe corridor was, to some extent, dis- 
 pelled by a large iron oil lamp, which hung from tbe roof, 
 near tbe centre of it. 
 
 Of course such a mode of illumination could not fail to 
 throw many confusing and perplexing shadows, so that 
 bad anyone come by chance into tbe place, they would 
 most likely have seen neither Jack nor bis companion. 
 
 But as soon as be had assured himself that the coast 
 was clear, the former hastened along the passage to tbe 
 massive door at its termination. 
 
 This, bad it not been for Jonathan's master key, would 
 have been an insurmountable obstacle, but, as i* was, it 
 was nothing. 
 
 Jack hesitated a little before he put tbe key in tbe 
 lock. J 
 
 " ffer what do you wait ? " asked Sir Marmaduke. 
 " I am uuarmed," said Jack, " that is ull." 
 " And I, too." 
 
 " I must find a weapon of some sort," said Jack. " 1 
 ought to have thought of that before." 
 
 ' You have a knife. I saw you with it." 
 
 " I know I have, but that would only be useful against 
 one assaillant" It is some weapon like a sword that I 
 want." 
 
 " Look ! " said Mannaduke, " there is a wooden bar 
 which fits across tbe cell doors. Would not that serve 
 you ? " 
 
 " It is tbe very thing." 
 
 " And the prisoners who may be here ? " 
 
 " Oh ! they are not of importance. Tbe authorities 
 are aware of this place, so that none would be confined 
 here without good reason." 
 
 Jack, aa he spoke, took from its setting one of the 
 cross-bars of wood, which were used as an additional fast- 
 *ening to the doors of Wild's cells. 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD GETS DESPERATE INDEED. 
 
 In the bands of a desperate man like Jack Sheppard this 
 bar of wood was a deadly weapon. 
 
 In length it was about five feet. 
 
 In breadth three. 
 
 It was formed of some very hard heavy wood. 
 
 Jack swung it round his head. 
 
 "Now I am prepared," be cried, "for all assailants. 
 Take the key, Sir Marmaduke, and open the door." 
 
 For convenience and safety Jack had slipped tbe chain 
 over his own bead, and the baronet took it off. 
 
 " It will be the largest key," said Jack. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke inserted it in the keyhole. 
 
 Tbe effort was almost beyond bis strength, but be did 
 manage to turn it. 
 
 Tbe lock was well oiled, so that scarcely any sound was 
 caused by the process. 
 
 It was an anxious moment when Jack, who went first, 
 pushed tbe door open just wide enough to allow his slim 
 anatomy to pass through. 
 
 The staircase before him was profoundly dark. 
 
 At the very top, however, he could see a faint gleam of 
 bght, which no doubt proceeded from the lamp in the 
 hall. 
 
 Motioning to the baronet to follow him, with the utmost 
 caution and silence Jack mounted the stairs. 
 
 He reached tbe top. 
 
 He crouched down and looked about him. 
 
 The iron door was within reach of his hand. 
 
 As usual a man was seated there. 
 
 He was very still. 
 
 Whether he slept or not Jack could not determine. 
 
 Having seen this, he proceeded to look yet further in 
 advance of him, not only for the purpose of making 
 himself famiHar with tbe position of the different objects, 
 but to see what else be had to contend against. 
 
 At the street door be could see the dim, shadowy form 
 of the man on the lock. 
 
 On that night all was very still in and about Wild's 
 bouse. Not a creature seemed stirring, and only at occa- 
 sional intervals could be heard the rumbling sound pro- 
 duced by some vehicle in the street as it rolled past the 
 bouse. 
 
 Jack fixed bis eyes upon the door. 
 
 On the other side of it was freedom. 
 
 But. to reach this he felt was all but an impossibility. 
 
 He felt assured that after that night's work every- 
 thing in the shape of coalition was at an end between him 
 and Wild. 
 
 The albance had been but a brief one. 
 
 Henceforth Jack felt that Jonathan Wild and himself 
 would be enemies. 
 
 He shuddered at the thought. 
 
 It was only for an infinitesimal space of time that this 
 thought influenced him. 
 
 He was recalled to himself by tbe imperative necessity 
 thei-e was for instantaneous action. 
 
 Not only did Lis own safety depend upon tbe events of 
 tbe next few moments, but bis companion's also. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke crouched close beside him. 
 
 Jack held out his hand for Jonathan's master-key. 
 
 Tht baronet placed it in bis grasp. 
 
 Then holding the wooden bar firmly in his left band, 
 and in such a position that be could, if need be, in»taii.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A KOUANCE. 
 
 W 
 
 taneously seize it with his right. Jack Sheppard rose 
 ap like a ghost. 
 
 If the man who had charge of the iron-grated door 
 had turned his head in the least degree he must have 
 seen him. 
 
 But he did not. 
 
 Surely he must have glept. 
 
 With as much silenoe and secrecy as he could, Jack, 
 pith a beating heart, put the key into the lock. 
 
 He could not avoid making a slight noise. Besides, he 
 was so excited that his whole body trembled. 
 
 Slowly, slowly, with a steady, constant motion, no 
 turned the key round in the lock in the hope that he 
 might unfasten it unheard. 
 
 But after going quietly for some time the lock, as he 
 feared from its construction it would do, went back with a 
 sharp snap. 
 
 The man who was sitting so close to him uttered a cry 
 of dismay. 
 
 But Jack, with great promptitude, the moment the bolt 
 of the lock went back in its socket, dashed the door 
 violently and suddenly open. 
 
 The consequence was that the man, before he had time 
 to escape, found himself almost crushed to death between 
 the door and the wall, for Jack pushed with all his 
 might. 
 
 The man who was on the lock, or in other words, who 
 had charge of the street-door, set up a loud shout, and 
 drawing a pisttl from his belt, he shouted,-* 
 
 " Stand where you are, or I fire." 
 
 Jack saw now that all was discovered, and that he 
 would have to fight his way to the street. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke kept behind him. 
 
 Whispering a word of encouragement, Jack, who had 
 come to a halt upon the sudden command to do so, 
 swung the heavy wooden bar round his head, and dashed 
 forward. 
 
 The man on the lock was as good as his word, for he 
 fired his pistol instantly. 
 
 But it was done too hurriedly for him to take an 
 aim, and the bullet went with a crash through one of 
 the balustrades of the staircase leading to the upper 
 portion of the house. 
 
 Ere the echoes of the pistol-shot could die away, Jack 
 reached this man, and with one terrific blow with the bar, 
 laid him prostrate. 
 
 Then a terrible sound smote his ears. 
 
 It was a hideous howling cry, and such as some wild 
 and ferocious denizen of the woods might be supposed to 
 utter upon finding himself in the toils of the hunters. 
 
 Jack knew that there was but one human being who 
 could give vent to such a sound. 
 
 That one was of course Jonathan Wild. 
 
 How he had got out of his cell he could not imagine, 
 but that he had done so was a fact quite patent. 
 
 Quick as thought Jack turned to the fastenings of the 
 door. Could he get them undone all would be well. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, with his huge hanger in his hand, 
 rushed up the staircase. 
 
 Never before was he, or had he been, in such a state of 
 infuriation. 
 
 Blood and foam were on his face. 
 
 His coat was torn in many places, his hat and wig 
 were off, and his bald cranium had clots of blood upon it. 
 
 But though Jack did not know how the thief-taker 
 had contrived to escape from the c^ll, there is no reason 
 why the reader should remain lii a similar state of igno- 
 rance. 
 
 Upon first awaking from the swoon induced by the 
 blows he had received from Jack, Jonathan was quite at a 
 loss to account for what had occurred. 
 
 In fact, his senses had only partially come to him. 
 
 He was, however, half conscious that hands were 
 moving busily about his breast, and then percepti"". f'<ih& 
 him altogether. 
 
 That was when Jack had taken the key from him. 
 
 This time he soon aroused, nor was he long in coming 
 to a correct conclusion as to the actual state of affairs. 
 
 The first thing his hands touched, as he placed them on 
 the floor, to assist himself to rise, was his bludgeon. 
 
 Quite a gush of delight came over him, at once more 
 having in his grasp his favourite and bloodthirsty weapoD . 
 
 In fact, the possession of it went further towards r.> 
 storing him to his'senses than aught else, 
 
 In the first blind fury of the moment, he rushed at the 
 door and commenced battering at it. 
 
 But, finding what folly it was to exhaust himself in a 
 way that could do him no good, and being struck with a 
 new idea, he dropped the bludgeon, and drew with great 
 rapidity the heavy hanger which he habitually carried at 
 his 6ide. 
 
 Then with this weapon he renewed his assault on the 
 door. 
 
 Of course he now stood a much better chance of 
 achieving some beneficial result than he had done 
 before. 
 
 The sharp steel sank into the wood. 
 
 Chips flew about in all directions. 
 
 He bruised his hands against the oaken panel in his 
 frantic haste, but he heeded it not. 
 
 The splinters struck him in the face, but he did not 
 cease his labour for a moment. 
 
 One idea only was present to his mind, and that was to 
 escape from the cell with as much speed as possible. 
 
 Horrible curses, levelled at Jack Sheppard, came from 
 his lips. 
 
 And so he kept on until, as the reader is aware, Jack 
 tapped at the door with the haft of his clasp-knife. 
 
 That it was either of the prisoners he did not for a 
 moment imagine. It was about the last thing they would 
 be likely to do. 
 
 But when Jack left him, the suspicion entered his mind, 
 and renovated by the brief rest he had had, he set about 
 his work with redoubled energy. 
 
 The task he had set himself was to cut a large enough 
 hole in the door for him to crawl through. 
 
 This, with the weapon he held, had he possessed suffi- 
 cient command over himself, and set about it coolly, would 
 not have taken one-fourth of the time it did. 
 
 But the desperate state of Jonathan's mind required 
 just then that he should have some means of expending 
 his superfluous strength. 
 
 Harder and harder, faster and faster, rained the blows 
 upon the door, until, at last, he had the satisfaction of 
 seeing into the passage. 
 
 Having once made a breach, the rest of the work was 
 much easier, and he cut away the wood in long strips. 
 
 As soon as ever the hole was large enough, and, in fact, 
 almost before it was, he began to crash through it. 
 
 It was in this way that his apparel got torn in the way 
 it was. 
 
 He wriggled himself through, leaving behind him in 
 the cell the best part of his coat. 
 
 He raised himself to his feet, and, then struck with a 
 sudden thought, put his hand into his pocket and pro- 
 duced a flask. 
 
 From the strong odour which it spread around -when 
 he unscrewed the top it was pretty evident it contained 
 brandy. 
 
 He placed it to his lips and took a long draught. 
 
 The alcohol had the effect of endowing him with thrice 
 the strength he had possessed a moment before, and utter- 
 ing a yell, he rushed along the passage to the secret 
 door. . . 
 
 To one so well acquainted with its mechanism as he 
 was, it took not a second to fling it open, and he dashed 
 through. . , ... 
 
 Along the corridor through the massive door, which 
 Jack had incautiously left open, instead of closing and 
 locking as he ought to have done, and up the stone 
 steps went Wild with undiminished speed. 
 
 Then he uttered that one frighful, howling yell, which 
 was sufficient to strike dismay and terror u*' i the hearts 
 of all who heard it. 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 SHEPPARD AND THE BARONET MAKE A TEMPORARY STAY 
 AT THE "JOLLY SAILORS." 
 
 The state of affairs in the hall of Jonathan Wild's house 
 was both peculiar and critical. 
 
 The report of the pistol as well as the ories of the man 
 on the lock had the effect of rousing those members of the 
 thief-taker's gang who happened to be indoors at the time-, 
 and they hastened with all the speed they could to tna 
 scene of action. 
 
 Jack Sheppard fumbled at the fastening of the door.
 
 6S 
 
 BIAJESK1N: A ROMANCE. 
 
 A chain which was twisted and knotted into many con- 
 volutions puzzled him. 
 
 At last it gave way. 
 
 But before he could introduce the key into the lock and 
 .>pen the door, Jonathan was upon him. 
 
 Wild held in one hand the hanger which had done him 
 such good service, and in the other he held a pistol. 
 
 " Surrender," he yelled. " Surrender, or I'll shoot you 
 where you stand." 
 
 : ' Never," said Jack, whirling the heavy wooden bar 
 round his head. " Never, villain. Come on if you are 
 tired of your life." 
 
 As he uttered these words Jack dropped the master- 
 key upon the floor, and whispered to Sir Marmaduke— 
 
 " Quick— quick. Open the door. It is only locked 
 now. Quick, I say, and all may yet be well. I will keep 
 them at bay for a few moments." 
 
 The baronet stooped and possessed himself of the key. 
 
 " Drop that," roared Wild, as he saw the action. 
 * Drop that, Sir Marmaduke, or I fire." 
 
 But, paying no attention to what he said, Sir Marma- 
 duke Osborn put the key in the lock. 
 
 Jonathan fired. 
 
 At the same instant three or four men rushed down the 
 staircase. 
 
 Wild saw them. 
 
 " Fire ! " he cried. " Shoot them both. Neither must 
 escape. Fire, I say." 
 
 But ere the men could obey this order the baronet had 
 unlocked the door and it swung open* 
 
 " Death and fury !" said Jonathan, rushing forward, but 
 Jack met him with the wooden bar which he used in the 
 fashion of a lance. 
 
 He caught Wild full in the chest, who, uttering a 
 hideous groan, toppled backwards on to the floor. 
 
 " Fly, Sir Marmaduke," cried Jack, as he ran to the 
 door. " Fly — fly — or we are lost." 
 
 The men on the stairs who had hesitated to fire when 
 Wild interposed his body between them and their aim, 
 now discharged their weapons. 
 
 But they were too late to effectuate anything. 
 
 In fact, the whole of these occurrences, so startling in 
 their character, had happened so quickly that they hardly 
 knew what they were about. 
 
 Indeed, although it has taken some time to relate, yet 
 it would be no exaggeration to say that not more than a 
 minute elapsed from the time Wild uttered the yell on the 
 stairs until Jack and Sir Marmaduke rolled down the 
 steps in front of Wild's house into Newgate-street. 
 
 Yes, rolled, for both lost their footing. 
 
 Jack grasped the baronet by the collar and raised him 
 to his feet. 
 
 " Speak — speak," he said, hurriedly. " Are you hurt ? " 
 
 " I fear so." 
 
 "Alas! alas ! " 
 
 " Do not think of it. It is nothing." 
 
 " Can you bear up against it for a few moments ? If 
 you cannot we ai - e lost indeed." 
 
 " I will do so." 
 
 " This way then," said Jack, and, lending all the assist- 
 ance in his power, he dragged him round the corner into 
 Newgate Mai'ket before Wild's men reached the door- 
 step. 
 
 At that silent hour of the night the old market was 
 dark and deserted, but Jack was familiar with its intri- 
 cacies, and he led his companion onwards with the greatest 
 confidence. 
 
 In a minute or two they emerged into Warwick-lane, 
 then a more disreputable and unsavoury thoroughfare 
 than it is now, and Heaven knows that is needless. 
 
 Urging the baronet to make his utmost speed, Jack 
 continued down Ave Maria-lane on to Ludgate-hill. 
 
 In this region all was still. 
 
 Dim and dark, and casting a huge shadow upon all 
 about its base, was St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 Jack crossed over to the palings and there stopped. 
 
 " We may rest in safety now for a few minutes," he 
 said. " We are, I think, out of immediate danger. Where 
 are you wounded, Sir Marmaduke ? " 
 
 Tkeiaronet was glad to cling to the iron church panngs 
 for support, as he said faintly, — 
 
 " It is nothing, absolutely nothing, my Mend. I will 
 ^ist stay to recover breath, and then we will proceed." 
 
 " But," said Jack; who was far from satisfied with his 
 
 comrade's assurance, " tell me where you were hit. Is it 
 bleeding ? " 
 
 " Only a little. The bullet [from Wild's pistol has 
 grazed my ear and cheek." 
 
 " Is that all ? " 
 
 " It is. At first I thought I was seriously hurt, but I 
 am glad to say it is no worse." 
 
 " Then all is well. It is too dark here for me to see, but 
 there is a lamp at the corner of Paul's Chain. Cross over 
 and let me look at the wound." 
 
 This Sir Marmaduke was nothing loath to do, and, 
 taking hold of Jack's arm, they immediately proceeded in 
 the direction Jack had indicated. 
 
 For the benefit of those who may not be conversant 
 with that portion of the metropolis, it will, perhaps, be as 
 well to state that Paul's Chain is the name of a very 
 narrow turning leading from the south side of St Paul's 
 Churchyard to the banks of the river Thames at a point 
 about midway between Blackfriars and Southwark 
 Bridges. 
 
 As Jack had stated, there was at the comer of this 
 street one of those miserable oil lamps which, by a stretch 
 of imagination, were supposed to illuminate the streets of 
 London. 
 
 But so far from doing this they only served, by the per- 
 plexing shadows which they cast, to make the surrounding 
 darkness appear all the more obscure. 
 
 When, however, Jack stood close under this lamp, there 
 was just light enough for him to see his companion's face. 
 
 As Sir Marmaduke had said, the bullet had merely 
 gi-azed the side of his face. It had cut through the upper 
 portion of his ear and furrowed up the skin along his 
 cheek. 
 
 " You are all right," said Jack. " The blood has con- 
 gealed over it, and it has now ceased to bleed. In fact, 
 it can scarcely have bled at all." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said Sir Marmaduke, " for I 
 am sure I have no blood to spare." 
 
 '' No, indeed. In fact, it is a mystery to me how you 
 have contrived to bear up so long as you have." 
 
 " It was the will." 
 
 " But you speak but faintly now, sir." 
 
 "Do I?" 
 
 " You do, indeed." 
 
 " I cannot wonder at it, for I am almost exhausted. 
 Can you hear nothing of Wild and his myrmidons ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Then perhaps there would not be much danger in out 
 resting somewhere, and getting some refreshment." 
 
 "Very little. I was about to propose the same thing." 
 
 " But it is late. Where shall we find a place open ? " 
 
 " Down nearer to the river's side, doubtless. But Sir 
 Marmaduke, if you will take my advice, you will, with as 
 little delay as possible, make your way homeward." 
 
 " That is what I should wish." 
 
 " Where is your abode ? " 
 
 " At Tilburyness." 
 
 " Tilburyness ? That is on the river bank, surely." 
 
 " It is, but it is some thirty miles from here." 
 
 " Make your way there at once. If you will be guided 
 by me you will go by water." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " Chiefly because you are more likely to elude Wild 
 than if you went by road, besides which, in your present 
 state, travelling by water would be best adapted for you, 
 since it would be the easiest mode of transit." 
 
 " You are right." 
 
 " You may depend," said Jack, " that a terrible re- 
 action will take place after this, and it therefore behoves 
 you to be more than usually careful." 
 
 " Thanks, my young friend, for your caution ! I will 
 remember it." 
 
 During this brief dialogue, the pair had made their 
 way at an easy pace down the street. 
 
 We shall surely come to a public-house Deiore long," 
 said Jack, " where they have not yet retired to rest. We 
 will halt there and take some light refreshment, for it 
 would be most injudicious on your part now to make either 
 a hearty meal, or partake of any strong liquors." 
 
 " I am well aware of that. A little bread soaked in 
 wine and water will be, I should think, the best thing I 
 can have." 
 /_' Undoubtedly."
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 W 
 
 wErt-** said Sir Marmaduke, after a moment's pause, 
 '< with regvuta to my setting to Tilbury." 
 
 "WelU" 
 
 ^ ?x is, as you must be aware, highly necessary that I 
 shouid atart off at once, and at this hour of the night, 
 bow are we to find a conveyance." 
 
 " That will be difficult, no doubt, but we must see. If 
 the public-house is anywhere near the water, the landlord 
 will sure to be able to furnish us with every information." 
 
 " Of course — of course ! " 
 
 " Come on then, sir. Let the recollection of the mght- 
 ful perils we have passed through nerve ycu to fresh 
 exertion. It is no slight thing to escape from the clutches 
 of Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " It is not, as you say. And that brings more forcibly 
 to my mind the value of the assistance you have rendered 
 me. Not only have you freed me, but also obtained that 
 document, which I was foolish and wicked enough to 
 sign." 
 
 " The thought of having thwarted Jonathan Wild in 
 one of his atrocious schemes, is for me a sufficient 
 reward." 
 
 " I shall, though, feel offended and much grieved if you 
 will not permit me to give you some tangible token of my 
 gratitude for your exertions in my behalf. You are the 
 saviour of myself from an ignominious death, my pos- 
 sessions from exheredation, and my family from want and 
 ruin. In return for these inestimable services, the least 
 you can do is to allow me, since I have the means of doing 
 so, of seeing to your future welfare." 
 
 "To refuse the aceptance of your generous offer, Sir 
 Marmaduke," said Jack Sheppard, in tones of deep emo- 
 tion, " would not only be churlish but uugratefnl. Heaven 
 knows I ha^e need of some strong hand to hold me back 
 from the frightful doom towards which I seemed to be 
 hurried along by the force of a malignant destiny." 
 
 CHAPTER XLYII. 
 
 THE FUGITIVES MEET WITH A SLIGHT SURPRISE. 
 
 Sir MARjrADur T J OsBORNwas not a little surprised at 
 hearing such a speech from the lips of his companion, and 
 he turned his eyes towards him with an inquiring glance. 
 
 But in the dark and narrow thoroughfare in which they 
 were it was impossible for him to do more than just dis- 
 tinguish tho dark outline of Jack' ? countenance. 
 
 "I rejoice," he replied, " not it you are so in need of 
 help, but because it affords me an opnortunity of showing 
 you how highly I estimate your conduct in this affair. 
 Throughout you have manifested a spirit ot perfect un- 
 selfishness, a quality which is r.3 rare as it is admirable." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke was quite right there. Whatever 
 Jack's failings and vices may havo been, e was truly and 
 thoroughly unselfish, and so high a trait of character as 
 that is sufficient to redeem many of his shortcomings 
 
 But as the reader cannot fail to have seen, Jack Shep- 
 pard was purely a creature of circumstances, and it is by 
 no means surprising that he should have imbibed the 
 notion that he was urged onwards, without eference to 
 hie own volition, by fate or destiny. 
 
 But somehow he shrank from letting the conversation 
 turn upon himself, so he hastened to change the theme. 
 
 " You speak louder than you did a little while ago. Do 
 you feel better ? " 
 
 " I spoke louder, my kind young friend, because of 
 the spirit which actuated me. Believe me, my utmost 
 wish now is to place you in a different and worthier posi- 
 tion than that which you at present seem to occupy." 
 
 " Accept my thanks, sir, then for all that you have pro- 
 mised. But I must remind you that we arc by no means 
 out of danger. Jonathan Wild ic not man to go to 
 sleep in such a case as this. You may depend he will ' y 
 his utmost to get us once more in his power." 
 
 " I have more trust in heaven, and in the wisdom and 
 evenhandedness of His dispensations, than to think that it 
 would permit so base a villain to bo triumphant, unless " 
 he added, with a sigh, " unless it was by crowning all h' 1 
 did with success to make his downfall morn bitter and 
 tremendous." 
 
 "But that, to my noti.ns," said Jack, ' : vfc Id not be 
 Bight." 
 
 ,c Why not ? " 
 i "It seems to me a very insufficient reason for allowing 
 . others to suffer so much misery. I know yours is the 
 
 view the religious people take of such things, but I look 
 upou it in a very different light indeed, and Providence, 
 so far from being a beneficent power, is in reality an evi! 
 one, and rejoices more in bringing men to sorrow than it 
 does in bringing them to joy." 
 
 " Those," said Sir Marmaduke, gravely, " are atheistic 
 sentiments. They jar upon me. If you wish me to think 
 well of you you will banish such opinions, which more 
 befit a miscreant like Jonathan Wild than such as I would 
 fain believe you are." 
 
 " At l.-.:t ! " said Jack, suddenly. 
 
 " What do you mean by that ejaculation ? " asked the 
 baronet, in tones of the utmost surprise. 
 
 " Why," replied Jack, " that we have reached that which 
 we were seeking. Look before you on the right, and you 
 will see a faint beam of light." 
 
 " I see it ; and is that a public-house ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " How can you tell from this distance ? You may be 
 mistaken." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You are confident ? " 
 
 " I am, and for the best of all reasons." 
 
 " What is it." 
 
 " I know the neighbourhood ; I have had occasion to 
 come here many a time. I did not know they kept open 
 so late, but that light which you see proceeds from the 
 front room of ' The Jolly Sailors.' " 
 
 " Is that the name of the house ? " 
 
 "Yes; and that is all I know about it. I have 
 noticed it as I passed, but I have never crossed its 
 threshold." 
 
 A few steps sufficed to bring them to the doorway of the 
 ancient hostelry. 
 
 The door was closed. 
 
 Jack knocked at it boldly. 
 
 Nearly five minutes elapsed before they heard the bolts 
 withdrawn. 
 
 Then the door only opened to the extent of a few inches. 
 It was stopped by an iron chain. 
 
 " We are travellers needing rest and refreshment for 
 an hour or so," replied Jack to the gruff interrogatory of 
 " Who was there ? " 
 
 The man at the door was apparently satisfied with 
 the reply, for he let fall the chain, and allowed the door to 
 open. 
 
 " We are obliged to be careful at night," he said, " for 
 so maDy desperate characters are about." 
 
 " I suppose so," said Jack, '" but you see, my friend 
 here, who is a gentleman, has been set upon and mal- 
 treated by thieves, and is at the present moment almost 
 dying from the effects of the ill-usage he has received." 
 
 The man leok sucpiciously at Sir Marmaduke and Jack, 
 and well he might. Their appearance was quite sufficient 
 to make him do so. 
 
 But Sir Marmaduke himself stepped forward. 
 
 There was a grace and dignity about him, as with an 
 effort he drew himself up to his full height, which was 
 visible through his tattered dress and disfigured features. 
 
 " You have no just ground for suspicion," he said, 
 " though I am free to admit that our appearance is more 
 than sufficient to excite it. But we have suffered fright- 
 fully. I wish to make no secret of my name. It is 
 Osborn — Sir Marmaduke Osboru of Farleigh Priory, 
 Tilburyness." 
 
 The man, who was really the landlord of the " Jolly 
 Sailors," k iked for i moment the picture of incredulity, 
 but wa- :o visibly impressed, both upon the cor.ntenance 
 and ; mer of Sir Marmaduke, as well as in the tones of 
 his vcie, that it was not .possible for him to mistake 
 them. 
 
 " Walk this way, sir," he said, respectfully, iou shall 
 have every attention while you are beneath my roof." 
 
 " Our stay must be a very short one. It is imperatively 
 necessary for many and important reasons, that I should 
 reach my home with the least possible delay. Can you 
 tell me of any means by which I may go down the 
 river ? " 
 
 " I dare say it can be managed"' said the landlord, "a* 
 he ushered them into a large room where several nauticf 
 looking men were seated. " What would you like ? " 
 
 " Some hot wine and water, with a slice of brew 
 sopped in it," said Sir Mnrmaduke. " I dare not partake ,
 
 70 
 
 BLTJE3KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 of aught else. What will you have ? " he added, turning 
 to Jack. 
 
 " Anything you like." 
 
 " We have some cold heef," said the landlord. 
 "Bring that then," said Jack, "and a glass of hot 
 brandy and water." 
 The landlord quitted the room to obey their orders. 
 The other oocupants regarded Jack and his companion 
 with the utmost surprise, but there was something in the 
 countenance of the baronet that made it quite out of the 
 question for them to offer him any rudeness. 
 
 The landlord returned with great expedition, and then 
 Sir Marmaduke said — 
 
 " When I have eaten this, I should be glad if you 
 would 6how us to a room where I can washj myself, 
 and bathe my wound. You see I have had" a near 
 touch." 
 
 " You have, indeed," said the landlord, obsequiously ; 
 " but you said something about starting to Tilbury." 
 
 " Yes. I wish to do so as soon as I am ready, which 
 will be in less than an hour's time. Can you, do you 
 think, find anyone to take us ? Your guests here appear 
 sailors by their dress." 
 
 " They are, but you must be aware it would be quite 
 impossible to run such a distance as that." 
 
 " I know it. I want them to take me as far below 
 bridge as they can, where doubtless I shall meet with 
 gome vessel which is about saibng down the river. 
 " ii" that is your intent, I think I can oblige you." 
 "How?" 
 
 " Four of the men here belong to a vessel that trades 
 between London -bridge and Hamburg, where she is now 
 at anchor. They intend to leave here at daybreak, and 
 pull down the river, when they will at once set sail. 
 The one you see nearest to the fireplace is the captain." 
 
 Sir Marmaduke and Jack looked in the direction indi- 
 cated, and saw a man with a cheerful, good-tempered- 
 looking countenance, complacently smoking a long clay 
 pipe. 
 
 " Do you think," said the baronet, "that the offer of ten 
 pounds would be sufficient to induce him to set off a few 
 hours earlier than he intended and put me ashore at 
 Tilbury?" 
 
 " I will call him here and ask him," said the landlord, 
 " with your permission." 
 " Do so, do so." 
 
 The landlord beckoned with his finger, and the captain 
 at once left his seat and came towards them. 
 
 The others looked on curiously, but the conversation 
 had been carried on in too low a tone for them to hear a 
 word of it. 
 
 " What cheer, messmate ? " asked the captain. 
 " This gentleman and his companion," replied the land- 
 lord, " are very anxious to get down the river before day- 
 light, and they want to know whether, in consideration of 
 a ten-pound note, you would mind starting at once, and 
 putting them ashore at Tilburyness." 
 
 " Your honour's humble servant to command," he said, 
 addressing himself to Sir Marmaduke. " I am ready and 
 willing, too, for it is not often a sailor has a chance of 
 making ten pounds." 
 
 " Very well then," replied the baronet, who had finished 
 his bread and wine. " I am just going to wash the 
 blood from my face and have my wound attended to, 
 and then I shall be ready." 
 
 " All right, your honour. I'll be off at once. You'll 
 find the boat at the bottom of the steps here. There 
 may be one or two others, so when you get to the 
 landing, call out, Ringdove — that's the name of my little 
 craft, you must know — and we will reply at once." 
 Upon this understanding they separated. 
 It took Sir Marmaduke but a few minutes to make 
 himself ready. The wound itself was scarcely worthy of 
 the name, and all that was done to it was to spunge it 
 clean with some warm water, and apply a little plaister. 
 This done, they, under the landlord's guidance, betook 
 
 There were two boats at the bottom of the steps. 
 
 In one could be seen four dark forms. 
 
 Jack put a guinea into the landlord's hand, and then 
 descending the steps, proceeded to assist his companion 
 into the boat. 
 
 But while he was thus engaged he was startled by 
 the sudden appearance of three other men, who made 
 their way down the steps towards the other boat. 
 
 " Here you are, your honour ; the best boat on the river, 
 sir!" 
 
 " Curse you ! " said a growling voice. Hold your 
 row, and push off at once ! 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " said Jack, as he sprang into the 
 boat. " Row for your lives — row ! Get free from him, 
 and you shall have, not ten pounds, but fifty ! Quick ! 
 Oh ! quick, or we are lost ! " 
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD TURNS DOCTOK, AND UNDERGOES A 
 LITTLE DISCIPLINE. 
 
 The altogether unexpected appearance of Jonathan Wild 
 was not, as Jack fancied, owing to his having traced them, 
 but owing to a purely fortuitous circumstance. 
 
 To account for it, however, we must go back a little 
 way. 
 
 It will be recollected that the last we saw of him was 
 when, by one well-directed thrust, Jack prostrated him to 
 the ground. 
 
 Two of his men at once stooped down and raised him 
 to his feet, while the other two started off in pursuit of 
 the fugitives. 
 
 But, as they had already turned the corner to the 
 market, their prey was no longer in sight, nor was there 
 anything to give them a clue as to the route they had 
 taken. 
 
 Therefore they had to trust to chance entirely, and, as 
 they fancied down the Old Bailey was the way "they were 
 likeliest to go, they set off in that direction at full speed. 
 Of course there search was resultless. 
 Full an hour elapsed before Jonathan recovered. 
 In fact, so death-like did he look, that Levee went out 
 for an apothecary, who was in the habit of dressing Wild's 
 wounds. 
 
 This man, whose name wa3 Ebenezer Snoxall, lived at 
 the corner of Skinner-street. 
 
 On bis arrival, his first care was to dress Wild's wounds, 
 before he attempted to revive him, for he knew how very 
 violent he was apt to be. 
 
 He shook his head gravely and uttered such exclama- 
 tions as "Hum ! ha ! " during the process. 
 
 At last Jonathan looked something like himself, so Mr. 
 Snoxall held some pungent essence under his nostrils, 
 which caused him to open his eyes at once. 
 
 He glared about him for some seconds, and clasped his 
 hands over his head. 
 
 There was a horrible humming noise in that region, 
 accompanied with the most splitting headache that could 
 be conceived. 
 
 " Don't worry yourself, Mr. Wild," said the apothecary, 
 in croaking accents peculiar to him. " You will require 
 a long rest before you get over this. You will, indeed." 
 
 " Who are you ? " roared Wild, springing up to a sitting 
 posture. 
 
 "Murder!" said Mr. Snoxall, "murder!" Then he 
 added, in defiance of grammar, " It's me— it's me." 
 
 The cloud about Jonathan's brain was gradually dis- 
 persing. 
 He remembered the voice of the apothecary. 
 He laid down again, and strove to think. 
 " Ha ! " he cried, as he remembered what had taken 
 place. " Blue — Blueskin, I say." 
 
 " He's not come in, if you please, Mr. Wild," 6aid 
 Levee, opening the door just wide enough to admit his 
 i head. 
 
 Where's Sheppard and that— that old man with him. 
 
 themselves to the landing-steps, which was situated just Caught and put back in their cells, of course. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 i oi T>_..1> : : n vn _ j i_ i- ±i- u » 
 
 where St. Paul's pier is now. 
 
 The night was light, and when they turned the corner 
 of the street in which stood " The Jolly Sailors," they 
 could see the river, and the numerous boats at their 
 moorings with great distinctness. 
 
 " Ringdove," said the landlord. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir," was the reply. " Here you are ! " 
 
 they shall pay dearly for this prank. 
 Levee hesitated. 
 " What now, villain ? Where are they ? " 
 Jonathan's face assumed a bloodthirsty expression. " 
 " Now pray don't excite yourself, Mr. Wild, pray don't,' 1 
 
 said the apothecary ; " the consequences will be serious if 
 
 yon do. You will bring on brain fever."
 
 BLUESKIN-, A ROMiVCE. 
 
 n 
 
 * Sixence," said Wild, as he carried his hand to his 
 pjstoln. . . 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, oh ! yes," said Mr. Snoxall, precipi- 
 tately retreating to the most distant corner in the room. 
 
 " Now, villain," yelled Wild, turning towards Levee, 
 " why do you hesitate ? " 
 
 " Hicks and Nohle, if you please, Mr. Wild"— 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " They have pursued them ." 
 
 "Ah!" 
 
 " But I don't Know whether they have found them." 
 
 " Fifty pounds ! — a hundred pounds for whoever brings 
 them to me dead or alive ! Do you hear that ? a hundred 
 pounds ! a hundred pounds — pounds ! " 
 
 Wild reeled and would have fallen to the floor hau not 
 Mr. Snoxall darted forward and saved him. 
 
 " Calm yourself , Mr. Wild, or I can't answer for the 
 consequences. Calm yourself, Mr. Wild, I beg." 
 
 " Brandy ! " roared Jonathan, recovering from the ver- 
 tigo which had seized him ; " brandy ! brandy ! " 
 
 " No, no, Mr. Wild," remonstrated the son of Galen ; 
 " no, no, it would be certain death to you to drink 
 brandy." 
 
 " Am I master here ? Brandy, I say. Ha ! that is 
 well." 
 
 Levee had taken from a cupboard in the room a 
 bottle of brandy. 
 
 Jonathan took it with a smile of satisfaction, and 
 placing it to his lips, drank off the greater portion of it. 
 
 The apothecary stared aghast. 
 
 Wild drew a long breath, and then he said, — 
 
 " Fetch me some more clothes instantly, and a hat and 
 wig." 
 
 Levee flew, rather than ran, to do his tyrannical master's 
 bidding, and a few minutes after he had returned, Jonathan 
 strode out into the hall, presenting something of his ordi- 
 nary appearance. 
 
 But though he carried things off with a high hand, he 
 was in reality suffering the most intolerabe agony from 
 the hurts he had received. 
 
 He had a purpose in view. 
 
 Just as he reached the hall the front door was opened, 
 and the two men, Hicks and Noble, entered. 
 
 "Well?" said Wild. 
 
 "iWe can't find nothink of them, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Curse you both ! After them again. I wouldn't 
 have them escape for a thousand pounds. Curses ! You 
 shall have a hundred a-piece if you bring them back, 
 dead or alive." 
 
 " We're off, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " The two men were only too glad to avail themselves 
 of this loop-hole to get out of the reach of his brutality. 
 
 Wild's head pained him dreadfully. 
 
 A rather desperate remedy came into his mind. 
 
 " Levee," he said, in a milder tone than he had yet 
 used. " Come with me. I want you." 
 
 Trembling in every limb, for he did not know what 
 evil to apprehend from Wild's pacific demeanour, Levee 
 followed him into the little yard at the back of the 
 premises. 
 
 There was a pump here which supplied those in 
 the house with water, and Jonathan walked straight up 
 to it. 
 
 " Levee," he said, " I have had my head knocked about 
 a good deal." 
 
 " You have, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " How do you know I have, villain ? " 
 
 " Mr. Snoxall, if you please." 
 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Now, look here. If I put myself in his care, I 
 shall be laid up for a month, so I am going to try a 
 cure of my own." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I am going to hold my head under the pump." 
 
 "The pump, Mr. Wild?" repeated Levee, incredu- 
 lously. 
 
 " Yes, blockhead, and when I do, you begin to pump 
 the water upon it. Very slowly at first, until at last you 
 get up to full speed, and don't stop till I tell you to do so." 
 
 Levee walked to the pump in anything but an enviable 
 frame of mind. He knew his master's vicious temper, 
 and that there was every reason, if he valued his skin, to 
 be particularly careful. 
 
 Jonathan put his head under the spout. 
 
 Levee began at first very gently, and gradually in- 
 creased. 
 
 The pain which the falling water occasioned was so 
 great that Jonathan almost uttered a shriek of pain, but 
 he controlled that impulse. He knew that the result of 
 the treatment he was undergoing would be a complete 
 immunity from pain afterwards. 
 
 Jonathan kept his head under for five minutes good, 
 and then he snatched it away and stood upright. 
 
 He was wonderfully better — well, indeed, in comparison 
 to what he had been. 
 
 So well satisfied was he that he resolved to try the pump 
 discipline a second time. 
 
 This time, of course, he did not feel it so much, and 
 when he rose, with the exception of a kind of numbness, 
 he felt that all pain had gone. 
 
 He returned to the hall. 
 
 " Send out all the men," said Wild, " in pursuit. I can- 
 not go myself, because I have even more particular busi- 
 ness under hand." 
 
 What that business was the reader will speedily learn. 
 
 It will be recollected that after Lord Ingestrie's inter- 
 view with him that morning, another visitor had been 
 announced. 
 
 What actually passed between them it is not necessary 
 to relate. Its results will be seen in Wild's actions. 
 
 That it was no slight matter may be gathered from the 
 fact of his abandoning the search for his two prisoners, 
 and delegating that important matter to his subordinates. 
 
 The fearful punishment which he had received, too, 
 was not sufficient to make him postpone its execution. 
 
 Jonathan Wild entered his office, and, going straight to 
 his desk, unlocked it, and took out the blood-bedappled 
 diamond tiara, which he had taken from the coffin of the 
 bride. 
 
 The business then was in connection w^th that. 
 
 Hastily cramming it into his pocket, Wild left the office, 
 and, after giving a few more orders, made his way in*° 
 the street. 
 
 The continued absence of his lieutenant, Joseph Blake, 
 or Blueskin, as he was called, puzzled and alarmed him. 
 He knew not what to think of so extraordinary a circum- 
 stance. 
 
 Wild went to the corner of the Old Bailey, and looked 
 about him for some conveyance. 
 
 A hackney-coach came blundering along. 
 
 He hailed it, and told the man to drive to the nearest 
 stairs where he could get a boat. 
 
 " St. Paul's-stairs," said the jarvey, "ain't the nearest 
 eggzactly, but you're more likelier to get a boat there than 
 at Blackfriars. ' 
 
 " Drive to St. Paul's-stairs then, in the devil's name, 
 and make haste about it." 
 
 The clumsy vehicle rumbled o?er the stones. 
 
 The swaying and jolting made Wild's head none the 
 better, nor had his reflections a soothing effect upon him. 
 
 " Curse that Sheppard ! " he said. " He's as bad as 
 his father was before him. I can do no good with either. 
 He'll come to the same end, that's clear. Curse him ! 
 He shall suffer for the pains I am enduring. Sir Marma- 
 duke, too. Just as I had accomplished that which had 
 given me so much trouble. To have it snatched from me. 
 The paper, too. Oh ! they would like that, of course. 
 Curse them both. As sure as my name is Jonathan Wild 
 they shall rue this day." 
 
 At this moment the coach stopped. 
 
 " Here's a public-house, sir, where the watermen waits. 
 Shall I tell them there's a job ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and be quick." 
 
 The man entered the house, which was only two streets 
 eff the " Jolly Sailors," and found there two men, who 
 went down to the landing steps with Wild in the manner 
 we have recorded. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND SIR MARJIADUKE OSBORN GET OUT 
 OF SIGHT OF JONATHAN WILD, BUT BY NO MEANS O'JT 
 OF DANGER. 
 
 And so after all it appears that the presence of Jonathan 
 Wild at St. Paul's-stairs was entirely owing to _one of 
 those cross accidents and chance coincidences wbi«?o occa- 
 sionally happen. 

 
 79 
 
 BLU^bkiiN: a ROMANCE. 
 
 [ 
 
 Had Jack Sheppard only hava had sufficient mastery 
 over himself to remain quite quiet, instead of shouting 
 out in the way he did, it is probable enough tliey would 
 have pushed off into the stream undetected. 
 
 But as it was Jonathan recognised the voice, as the 
 roar of anger and astonishment he gave sufficiently 
 evidenced. 
 
 " After those in that boat," he cried. " Keep them in 
 sight, and you shall have fifty pounds reward ! They 
 are traitors to the state ! and I am Jonathan Wild, the 
 holder of a warrant for their apprehension." 
 
 "All right, sir," said the two watermen. "We'll do 
 it, won't we, Bill ? " 
 
 " In course we will. That fifty's as good as earned, 
 sir, I can tell you." 
 
 "After uttering the shout he did, Jack spraug into 
 the boat, and the men, animated by his words, at once 
 pushed off, and urged by eight oars, sped over the waves 
 at a frightful rate. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Osborn, when he heard the voice of 
 his implacable, and, as he at that moment thought, 
 omnipresent enemy, fell back into the boat in a swoon. 
 
 A very few words from Jack to the captain sufficed to 
 put the latter into full possession of the facts of the case. 
 
 There was no mistaking the truthful manner in which 
 Sheppard spoke. It went direct to the captain's heart. 
 
 His whole sympathies were naturally attracted towards 
 Sir Marmaduke, and he cried to his men — 
 
 " Row ! row like devils ! Get out of sight of those in 
 the other boat. Cheerily, cheerily ! You," he added to 
 Jack, " had better see to your friend. He has fallen 
 backwards in a swoon." 
 
 Stimulated by the large sum of money Jonathan had 
 offered them to keep the other boat in sight, the two 
 men made the most incredible exertions. 
 
 Wild, however, was clear-headed enough to see that 
 anything in the shape of an attack just then would be 
 madness. 
 
 All he could hope to do, and scarcely that, was not to 
 lose sight of them, but follow in their wake wherever they 
 might go. 
 
 He would then be able to set his men on the track. 
 Like two spectral vessels, in that dim and misty light, 
 went the two boats ; but gradually, Wild could see, de- 
 spite the desperate efforts the two men who were rowing 
 him made, that they were falling rapidly into the rear. 
 
 " On — on," he cried. " Keep them in sight, keep them 
 in sight, and the money shall be yours — ay, double the 
 amount ! Can't you get assistance anywhere ? " 
 
 " I fear not, sir," replied the waterman who was seated 
 next to Wild. " We'll keep them in sight if such a thing 
 is possible. We might be able to get them stopped at the 
 bridge." 
 
 " Try— try ! They are traitors both ! ' ' 
 London-bridge could now be seen lowering in the dis- 
 tance. All, however, was dark upon it. .Not a single ray 
 of light peeped forth. 
 
 "We shall lose them in the shadow of the bridge! " 
 exclaimed Wild, as he saw the boat he was pursuing dis- 
 appear in the obscurity. " It has gone ! " 
 
 "All right, sir," said the waterman. " We shall come 
 in sight of it again on the other side." 
 
 With this assurance Wild was obliged to rest content. 
 Fortunately the tide was running out, which made their 
 progress all the easier and more rapid. 
 
 London-bridgo was gained, and the boatmen shipping 
 their oavs, the boat darted through it with gaeat velocity. 
 Wild looked eagerly about him. 
 
 The mass of shipping in the pool confused his vision. 
 "Where is the boat?" he yelled. "Where is it? I 
 cannot see it anywhere." 
 
 The waterman paused a moment, and glanced keenly 
 ahead. 
 
 " Where is it, I say ? " asked Wild, again, after the 
 lapse of a few seconds. " Where is it ?" 
 " Gone, sir ; gone, as I'm a man ! " 
 " A man ! " said Wild, " a fool, an ass, an idiot, .you 
 mean." 
 
 "You'd best be civil, Mr. What's-your-name, or c """^mp 
 me if I don't east you overboard." 
 
 " Peace ! " said Wild, mastering himself with a great 
 effort. " Peace ! They have doubtless got on board one 
 of the many craft hereabouts, and it so all search after them 
 will be tueleas. You shall be well paid for your night's 
 
 ■^aaSW^.—i 
 
 work. Row on, with all speed, to Wapping, ar pi ?• 
 arranged." 
 
 Wild flung himself back in the boat as he spoke. 
 His mind was in such a state of turmoil as defies all 
 attempts of description. Everything had gone wrong 
 with him. What did it portend ? He, who had hitherto 
 succeeded always in what he undertook, to have every one 
 of his projects thwarted. It was strange indeed. 
 
 The boat, propelled by the lusty strokes of the two 
 oarsmen, glided swiftly onwards. 
 
 " Wapping, sir," said the boatmen. " Where will you 
 land?" 
 
 "Nowhere. Put me on board that lugger there with 
 her sails spread, and then wait. I shah want you to take 
 me back." 
 
 " Ay — ay, sir," said the men. 
 " Boat ahoy ! " cried a man on board the lugger. 
 "All right, coming on board." 
 
 A beam of light from a powerful lantern was now 
 directed upon the boat. It fell upon the countenance 
 of the villanous thief-taker, who was instantly recognised, 
 and a rope thrown for him to ascend by. 
 
 It was not the first time by some hundreds that Wild 
 had visited this boat, and he climbed on deck with more 
 agility than one would have thought such an unwieldy 
 man possessed. 
 
 As soon as he stood on board, Wild said, in a low 
 tone, to the man who had hailed him — 
 " Where's the skipper ? " 
 
 " In his berth, sir. Shall I tell him you want him ? " 
 " Yes, and look 6harp, for I have not a moment to 
 spare." 
 
 "Very good, sir." 
 
 Wild strolled along the deck of the little vessel, and 
 looked about him with a critical eye. 
 
 As the reader has no doubt already suspected, this 
 was the boat Wild employed to carry over to Holland 
 and Belgium such property as he could not dispose of 
 in England. 
 
 In a few minutes Jonathan was joined by a stout, 
 burly-looking man, who had huddled on some part of his 
 apparel. 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Wild, what is it ? " 
 " Oh ! that's you, Schilder, is it ? Here." 
 Schilder, who was the man in command of the lugger, 
 walked by Wild's side to listen to his orders. 
 " Are you all ready to sail ? " 
 "At any moment, Mr. Wild." 
 " Get ready, then, at once ; you must be off." 
 " Is there danger ? " 
 
 " There is ; and it is all the greater since you ought to 
 have started off hours ago." 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " Curses on them, I have been detained by two villains 
 
 I had in custody. Never mind, they shall suffer for it. 
 
 Here is a diamond tiara which you must dispose of." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 " Secrete it somewhere on board in case you should be 
 overhauled, which I think more than likely." 
 " Yah ! yah ! Mr. Wild, trust me for that." 
 " Get a good price, Schilder." 
 " What is its value, Mr. Wild — actual value ?" 
 " Over two thousand pounds." 
 " Der teufel." 
 
 " You must get as much as you can. It ought to 
 realize something handsome. Above all, be careful, for 
 there has been a devil of a row about it. One of the 
 parties came to me this morning, and from what passed 
 then I judged it to be most advisable to part with it at 
 once." 
 
 "Very good, Mr. Wild. Hav3 you any further in- 
 structions ? " 
 " None, Schilder — none at all." 
 
 " Very good ; then I am quite ready, and at your ser- 
 vice." 
 
 " That is well." 
 
 " You don't seem very well, Mr. Wild." 
 " I'm not, Schilder ; I'm not. I have had enough hard 
 knocks to kill any ordinary man, but I am alive, you see — 
 alive." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. But you seem to have quite lost your 
 spirits." 
 
 "They shall suffer for it when I regain t&sux- Yon 
 understand, Schilder ? "
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 » *m > ■ ■ ■— m 
 
 &\ 
 
 [JACK SIIEPPARD AND BLUESKIN ENCOUNTER JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 "Precisely." 
 
 " I intended to have freighted you with some more goods, 
 but they must wait until next time. What have you for a 
 cargo ? " 
 
 " Dutch cheeses, as usual." 
 
 " Then mind. It is by no means certain, but I think 
 there is a strong probability that you will be overhauled 
 '»«fore you pass the Nore, so be prepared for such an 
 steak." 
 
 " Do Dot fear, Mr. Wild. You can rest quite easy upon 
 that score." 
 
 " Be it so. You must take care not to excite suspicion 
 V delaying to bring-to if you are signalled." 
 
 " I will attend to all that, Mr. Wild. You need not 
 trouble at all." 
 
 '* I am anxious." 
 
 " ± know you are, but you can depend upon my taking 
 it to the best market, and getting a good price for it." 
 
 "fShenlwillgo, Schilder." 
 
 " Shall I put you ashore, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " No, I have a boat waiting for me." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 The skipper assisted Jonathan into the little wherry. 
 
 The two men, who had had long enough rest to recover 
 from their fatigue, cast off, and rowed swiftly. 
 
 But ere they were a hundred yards from the lugger, 
 another boat shot out into the stream, and a voice cried — 
 
 " Pull up there, and let us come alongside. We com- 
 mand you in the king's name ! " 
 
 Wild looked behind him, and saw a obsz ligure stand- 
 ing up in the boat. 
 
 "The Thames police," he muttered. "I would not 
 have them know of my visit to the lugger for the world." 
 
 Then turning to the two watermen, who had naturally, 
 upon hearing such a command, shippp* their ours, he 
 cried — 
 
 " Row for your lives. Those are not the police, but 
 pirates. They fancy, no doubt, I carry a rich booty 
 Row — row, and you shall have your own prioe." 
 
 No. 10. 
 G&ATI3 with this Kumber. Tlxe ENGRAVING cf THE BTTSGLAE^.
 
 4* 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANC*. 
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD HAS A NARROW ESCAPE FROM THE 
 PISTOLS OF THE THAMES POLICE. 
 
 "Ay — ay! sir, that's your sort !" responded the wat oi- 
 lmen. " Pull away, Bill ; we shall make a good night's 
 work of this." 
 
 " You will," said Wild, " if you will only take care what 
 you are doing. Don't allow yourself to be overhauled by 
 them." 
 
 " Oh ! trust to us, your honour." 
 Wild shook his head. 
 
 ''You said that when you were in chase of the other 
 boat, and now where is it ? " 
 The men were silent. 
 But they pulled all the harder at the oars. 
 " Stop your boat," said the voice again ; " stop your 
 boat, in the king's name ! The Thames police want to 
 come alongside of you ! " 
 
 " On ! on ! " said Wild. " On ! on ! " 
 " Once more, like some huge cloud of vapour, old 
 London Bridge came in sight. 
 
 The tide was now just at the turn, which made the 
 passage of the arches a matter of no small difficulty, unless 
 they went slowly and carefully through. 
 
 But Jonathan would not suffer the men to relax their 
 speed. 
 
 It was running a risk, but he felt that doing so was 
 giving him a chance of escape from his pursuers. 
 The boat shot under the arch with great velocity. 
 But just as it i-eached the piers a cross eddy caught it, 
 and before the watermerl^vere aware even of the circum- 
 stance, dashed the boat against the stonework. 
 
 A curse came from the lips of all three at this accident. 
 The pursuing boat gained on them, for it was full two 
 minutes after they fouled before they could get clear. 
 
 Then one of the watermen standing up iu the boat 
 pushed them off. 
 
 At this moment those in the boat behind cried to them 
 to surrender, and the one who stood in the prow fired a 
 pistol. 
 
 In the darkness, however, it was without effect. 
 Jonathan crouched himself into the stern of the boat, 
 which now being disengaged was propelled with great 
 rapidity over the smooth water above bridge. 
 
 But the Thames police, for such they were, found the 
 conduct of those on board of the boat full of suspicion. 
 
 They had seen them leave in a hurried manner one of 
 the moored vessels. 
 
 At that time robberies from boats at anchor in the river 
 were of constant occurrence. Indeed, to such an extent 
 were the depredations carried, that a special body of 
 police was organized, whose duty it was to scrutinize all 
 craft upon the river that presented a suspicious appear- 
 ance. 
 
 They had challenged Wild's boat, and the circumstance 
 of no notice whatever being taken, seemed to show that 
 this time their suspicions were well grounded. 
 
 Having been recently set about the work, they were 
 anxious to show, if they had an opportunity, their efficiency, 
 and this was an excellent chance. 
 
 Of course, if Wild had chosen to avow who he was, that 
 would have been sufficient, but he was especially desirous 
 to keep secret, if possible, his presence on the river on 
 that particular night. 
 
 In the contingency of suspicion being in any way di- 
 «ected against him, it would be well to make out that he 
 Aad received such injuries as to make it a matter of im- 
 possibility for him to go abroad. 
 
 A keen wind swept over the surface of the river, but 
 Jonathan felt grateful for it ; it cooled the feverish excite- 
 ment of his brain. 
 
 The distance between the boats was now about the 
 same as it was in the outset, though the probabilities were 
 all against Jonathan maintaining it much longer. 
 
 " Get closer to the shore," he said, "so as to run in 
 suddenly, and laud me. I will make off, and you can tell 
 them that you rowed in by my orders ; say I said they 
 were pirates in pursuit.' 
 
 Pirates was the term applied to those who plundered 
 the craft upon the river. 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir. We'll L nagc that. Where would you 
 
 . *& ;$knd?" _ 
 
 " Aaywhere. It does not matter ia the least, so that I 
 
 get a few minutes' start of the rascals in that other 
 boat." 
 
 " It's like their infernal impudence to cry out that they 
 are the Thames police." 
 
 " That is the device they use, and a good one it is to 
 get vessels to allow them to come alongside, and then they 
 board them without difficulty." 
 The police-galley kept very pertinaciously in their rear. 
 " Have you a spare oar ? " asked Wild, as he glanced 
 behind him, and saw how close his pursuers were upon 
 him. " If you have, give it to me, and I will help." 
 
 " We haven't one, sir. You get ready to spring ashore. 
 We shall land you directly." 
 
 During the last few moments, the watermen had been 
 directing the course of the boat obliquely towards the 
 bank. 
 
 At last, with a sudden rush they reached the spot 
 whence they had set out, namely, St. Paul's-steps." 
 
 " You will find ample payment for your night's work on 
 the seat of the boat," said Wild, as he sprang on to the 
 slippery stairs, and in a moment disappeared in the dark- 
 ness of the night. 
 
 " Tim," said one of the watermen. 
 " Yes, mate." 
 
 " This is a precious rum start, isn't it ? " 
 " It is." 
 
 " I can't make it out at all. Is the money on the 
 seat ? " 
 " Yes, here it is. A good heavy purse, too." 
 " So much the better. Now, mate, here comes the 
 police -galley, for police-galley it is, in spite of all Mr. 
 Wild's nonsense about their being pirates. What shall 
 we say ? " 
 " I don't know, I leaves it to you." 
 "Very well. Then I say don't make an enemy of 
 Jonathan Wild, because if you do he is pretty sure to get 
 you hung at Tyburn before you are many weeks older.' 
 " Oh, lor ! " 
 
 " Now we have been well paid, and we had better be 
 content and keep his secret. He did not want them to 
 know he was on the water to-night, and we won't say 
 nothing about it." 
 
 " Boat there ! " cried a loud voice. 
 "Ay, ay." 
 
 There was a grating noise as the police-galley came 
 alongside. 
 
 A bull's-eye lantern was unmasked, and its beams di- 
 rected upon the wherry. 
 " Who are you ? " 
 " Watermen, your honour." 
 " Where's your badge ? " 
 " Here." 
 
 " Oh ! that's all right. Now, why didn't you heave-to 
 when we called to you ? " 
 
 " Because our fare told us you were river pirates, after 
 him." 
 " Pshaw ! and you believed him ? " 
 "Of com-se we believed the gemman; didn't wo 
 Tim ? " 
 
 " In course." 
 
 " Well, harkye, my fine fellows ; I'm superintendent 
 of the Thames police, and I have got your badge. Now, 
 if anything turns out to have taken place on the river to- 
 night, you will have to answer for it. Push off." 
 The police-galley shot out again into the river. 
 "I'm blest," said Tim, "if you ain't put us in for a 
 good thing." 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 " We shall be transported, that's certain." 
 " Not a bit of it." 
 " Well, you see." 
 
 " No we are in no danger, let what will happen, for, 
 don't you see, Jonathan Wild will be sure to get us off to 
 prevent our saying anything about his beiDg on the river 
 to-night." 
 " Oh ! ah ! I see." 
 
 " We're quite safe, and now let us go back t» the 
 ' Commodore's Head,' and have a drop o' summit hot 
 and strong." 
 
 Jonathan, when he sprang upon the steps, made his 
 way as quickly as he could through the mass oi streets 
 between the river and Ludgate-hill. 
 
 But in a very few moments, on finding himself unpur.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 71 
 
 »ued, he abated his speed, and shaped his course for New- 
 gate-street. 
 
 Muttering the most diabolical curses, he made his way 
 along the Old Bailey. 
 
 " He shall hang ! " he said, and he clenched his tists 
 tightly as he spoke ; " he shall hang, curse him ! Decs 
 ke think it nothing to cross me in my schemes ? He shall 
 rue what he has done, most bitterly rue it ! Blueskin, 
 too — my most faithful follower — he has weaned him from 
 me ! His absence looks suspicious, too. He must be 
 disposed of; not by the rope, though. He knows too 
 much. He must be put out of the way quietly ! " 
 
 It was wonderful how coolly Jonathan looked at taking 
 away a life. He spoke of it, and resolved upon it, as the 
 most commonplace thing in the world. For the credit of 
 humanity be it said, there have been few men so bad as 
 Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He turned the corner into Newgate-street, and in a few 
 minutes reached his own door. In obedience to long 
 habit he put his hand into the breast of his waistcoat for 
 his master key, and then he recollected Jack Sheppard 
 had taken it from him. 
 
 The volley of oaths that came from his lips was some- 
 thing awful, and seizing the heavy knocker in his hand, he 
 brought it down with such violence as almost to split the 
 panel. 
 
 " What do you ? " said a voice fiercely, as the door 
 
 was flung open ; then when he saw who it was that had 
 demanded admission, his behaviour underwent a remark- 
 able change, and he added, " Oh ! Mr. Wild, is it you, 
 sir?" 
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND LADY OSBORN SUSTAIN AN 
 IRREPARABLE LOSS. 
 
 Leaving Jonathan Wild to the perpetration of fresh 
 iniquities in his gloomy domicile, we will now, for a short 
 space, follow the fortunes of Jack Sheppard and Sir Mar- 
 maduke Osborn. 
 
 As the thief-taker had more than suspected, the boat, 
 as soon as it passed under the arches of the bridge, stopped 
 at the side of one of the vessels at anchor there. 
 
 That vessel was the Ringdove. 
 
 The men assisted the two fugitives on board. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke was still insensible. The efforts which 
 Jack had made to revive him had proved of no avail. 
 
 The Ringdove was one of the largest of the vessels that 
 traded between London and Hamburg. She was now all 
 ready for performing the return voyage. 
 
 The captain caught Jack by the arm, and pointed across 
 the water. 
 
 " Look," he said, " there is your foe." 
 
 " I see him." 
 
 " He has lost us, and is baffled to know how and where 
 we have disappeared." 
 
 " The man is a perfect mystery to me," said Jack. " I 
 have knocked him about enough to kill balf-a-dozen ordi- 
 nary men, yet there he is, looking as though nothing in 
 the world was the matter with him." 
 
 The captain then gave orders to get the vessel under 
 weigh, and in less than half-an-hour afterwards she was 
 gliding slowly down the Thames. 
 
 Upon further examination they found that Sir Marma- 
 duke had struck his head violently against some projection 
 in the boat. 
 
 Between them, Jack and the captain brought him back 
 to life. 
 
 But when he recovered he was so frightfully exhausted 
 that he could scarcely lift his hand. 
 
 As they ar.r>roached their destination he grew worse and 
 worse. 
 
 The reaction which Jack foretold had come. 
 
 Moving at the rate they did, it was a long time before 
 the vessel reached Txlburyness. Jack's impatience knew 
 no bounds. She whom he loved had an enemy in Jona- 
 than Wild, in addition to her villainous uncle. 
 
 Even at that very moment she might be suffering the 
 greatest peril from their machinations. The bare proba- 
 bility almost maddened him, and his spirit chafed within 
 dim as he watched the sluggish progress of thi' vessel 
 through the water. 
 
 Abandon Sir Marmaduke until he had seen him safely 
 
 restored to his family he would not. He felt that to act 
 otherwise would be base in the extreme. 
 
 But, as all things must of necessity have an end, so at 
 last did the journey, and Jack was delighted beyond 
 measure when the captain showed him in the distance the 
 place for which he was bound. 
 
 It was now morning. The sun was high up in the sky, 
 and shining brightly, making the wavelets on the rivei 
 sparkle like diamonds. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke was brought on deck. His eye bright, 
 ened, and he said, faintly — 
 
 " At last ! Once more I see you, my own happy home ! 
 Oh ! my young friend, my heart overflows with gratitude 
 for the manifold services you have rendered me. Look 
 among those trees : can you see the roof-tops of a mansion 
 there ? " 
 
 " Quite plainly." 
 
 " That, then, is Farleigh Priory." 
 
 "Your home ? " 
 
 " My home and yours, too, Jack, if you will but share 
 it with me." 
 
 " You are too kind and generous to me," said Jack. 
 " You have not heard the story of my life ; nor will there 
 be time for me to tell it. However, there are circum- 
 stances which will compel me — at least at present — to 
 decline your offer." 
 
 "But" 
 
 " It concerns another. One like you, persecuted by her 
 foes, but not so well able to do battle with them." 
 
 " A girl ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and one in whose welfare I feel the deepest 
 interest." 
 
 " Well — well ; you have a brave heart. I have already 
 had proof of that. Nothing would be further from my 
 purpose than to attempt to curb your inclination in any 
 way. All I can say is, while I live, so long will you find 
 a friend, and so long as a roof shelters me, so long will 
 you be welcome to share it." 
 
 Jack Sheppard pressed the hand of the baronet in 
 silence. 
 
 After a brief pause he spoke. 
 
 " Let us turn our attention to your own affairs," he 
 said. " They require some consideration. What shall 
 you do when you land ? " 
 
 "Do? Go home." 
 
 " But you forget. You are not strong enough to walk. 
 Besides, what effect may not your sudden and unexpected 
 appearance have upon your wife ? " 
 
 " True. I had forgotten. What do you advise ? " 
 
 " If there is any house close to the shore, where you 
 can remain for a time, I think you had better do so. I 
 will then go on to the Priory, and prepare your wife for 
 the surprise awaiting her." 
 
 " Thanks — thanks. There is a poor boatman's cottage 
 a little lower down, the inmates of which are known to 
 me. I will stop there, and you — you will" 
 
 " I will go to the Priory, as I said." 
 
 " You can bring the carriage." 
 
 "I will." 
 
 " And now about the payment of the captain ? " 
 
 " If you will permit me," said Jack, who had been fur- 
 nished with money by Blueskin during their stay at the 
 " Ship and Rainbow," in the Horseferry ; " if you will 
 permit me, I will see to that." 
 
 " I shall then be under another obligation to you, and 
 one which I can easily repay." 
 
 Jack upon this spoke to the captain, and gave him the 
 sum he had been promised, at the same time requesting 
 him to put them ashore as near the boatman's cottage as 
 he could, which was now only a few yards in advance. 
 
 This was done, and the baronet was assisted into the 
 rude dwelling-place by some of the crew. 
 
 Having seen all perfectly safe, Jack proceeded to carry 
 out his intention of visiting the Priory. 
 
 Ho seeded no guide, for the upper portion of the man- 
 sion could be seen quite plainly ; besides which, the lane, 
 aft&i: winding through a copse, termirited at the entrance 
 
 Every step Jack took filled him with delight. Brought 
 up all his lite in the midst of London, it is no wander he 
 should keenly appreciate the beauties of the country. 
 
 The lodge-gates were closed, and he was firmly refused 
 admittance until he told the man that he was the bearer
 
 f 
 
 70 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 of intelligence of the safety of Sir Marmaduke to Lady 
 Osborn. 
 
 Then they were flung open in all haste. 
 
 " He is alive ! my poor master ? " said the lodge-keeper, 
 in a voice of emotion. " God bless bim ! there has been 
 a sad house ever sine* be disappeared more tbau a 
 month ago. We all feared be was dead." 
 
 With such like expressions be accompanied Jack to the 
 Priory, which had a dismal look. The shutters of the 
 windows on the ground floor were closed, and the blinds 
 of tbe upper ones drawn down. 
 
 It was into a plainly-furnished room that Jack was 
 ushered, and there he awaited the arrival of the Lady 
 Osborn. 
 
 The intelligent Hint some one wished to see ber who 
 brought news of her husband tilled her with agitation. 
 
 There was a flush of colour in her babitually pale face, 
 and a sparkle in ber eyes when she entered. 
 
 She paused, and strove to speak, but ber voice failed 
 her, and she was fain to clutcb a chair for support. 
 
 " Calm yourself, madam," said Jack, respectfully. " I 
 am not, thank heaven ! the bearer of ill tidings. He still 
 lives, and is waiting to see you." 
 
 Lady Osborn, at this confirmation of the good news 
 she had heard, could not restrain her tears, and she sank 
 down upon tbe chair, the back of wbich she had grasped. 
 
 " Oh ! why — wby did be not come to me at once ? Oh ! 
 this is cruel iu the extreme." 
 
 " Not so, madam ; he feared the effect his sudden and 
 unexpected appearance migbt have upon you. When you 
 are composed and ready, I will take you to him." 
 
 " Oh ! 1 am quite ready — and — and quite composed. 
 Take me, ob ! take me, witbout delay." 
 
 " You are, by bis instructions, to take the carriage." 
 
 " The carriage ! Wbere is it, then ? " 
 
 " Close at hand, madam." 
 
 "Why, then Oh! he is hurt?" she said, a wild 
 
 feeling of alarm thronging to ber heart. " You did not 
 tell me that. Where has he been to ? Ob ! 1 bave so 
 much to ask that I forget ! " 
 
 " You must subdue your emotions, lady." 
 
 " I will try," she said. 
 
 As sbe spoke she rang the bell. 
 
 " Tell Price to put tbe horses in the carriage at once j I 
 am waiting to go out." 
 
 " Yes, my lady." 
 
 "And now, sir," she continued, fixiug her eyes im- 
 ploringly upon Jack's face. " Tell me — oh ! tell me 
 more!" 
 
 "You must prepare yourself for evil tidings," said 
 Jack. " He has suffered much since you saw him last. 
 He was kidnapped by a villain, and kept in a dungeon, 
 deprived of light and sustenance. But he has escaped, 
 after many difficulties and much fatigue. From his own 
 lips must you learn the story of bis sufferings. He can 
 relate them much better than I can. You must not ex- 
 pect to see him looking as he did when you saw bim last. 
 His sufferings bave left their impress on bim. Still he is 
 alive, and, with the exception of being utterly exhausted, 
 well ! " 
 
 " Thank heaven ! then," said Lady Osborn, " for I bad 
 lost all hope. Oh ! sir, if, as I suspect, it is to you I owe 
 the restoration of my husband, accept my warmest, my 
 most heartfelt thanks! May God reward you, for I can- 
 not ! " 
 
 Strange to say, these words were distasteful to Jack. 
 The reason was because his own heart toH bim how un- 
 worthy be was of such encomiums. 
 
 But he was relieved from his embarrassment by hearing 
 the carriage draw up before the door. 
 
 Lady Osborn sprang excitedly to ber feet. 
 
 " Come, come ! " she said, " the carriage is at the door. 
 Oh ! have pity on me, and take me to him at once." 
 
 She took Jack by the hand, and led him across tbe 
 room. 
 
 " Let me beg of you," be said, " to control yourself. 
 I ask it no less for your own sake than that of your hu3- 
 band's." 
 
 " I shall be calm if you will take me to bim, indeed I 
 shall." 
 
 There was a very grave doubt as to whether this would 
 be the case ; but Jack, fearing to increase her excitement, 
 thought the best thing be could do was to comply. 
 
 He therefore banded her into the carriage, and gave the 
 coachman instructions where to drive. 
 
 She would insist upon his entering the carriage with 
 her. 
 
 Jack felt awkward and uncomfortable. 
 
 It was the first time be had evei been in a carriage. 
 
 However, the demeanour of the baronet's wife soon put 
 bim at his ease. 
 
 The distance between the Priory and tbe boatman's 
 cottage was soon accomplished. 
 
 On the way Jack did his utmost to soothe the mind of 
 the unfortunate lady, as well as to prepare her for the sad 
 spectacle her husband presented. 
 
 They drew up about a hundred yards from the cottage, 
 and then both alighted. 
 
 Lady Osborn took Jack's arm. and they together walked 
 towards the hut. 
 
 It was a strange position for Jack. 
 
 He could see the lady's agitation was extreme. She 
 drew her breath painfully, and ber face became alternately 
 white and scarlet. 
 
 They reached the door. 
 
 Whispering a last injunction to her to be firm, he lifted 
 tbe latch. 
 
 With a cry of joy she sprang into the cottage. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke had been accommodated with a patri- 
 archal arm-chair by the fireside. 
 
 Despite bis weakness he rose from his chair, and 
 staggering forward, was caught in the arms of his wife. 
 
 " At last," she said. " At last. How you must have 
 suffered. My poor — poor husband. Look up ! look up ! 
 Smile upon me as you always did. Husband ! husband ! 
 Speak — look — or I shall go mad. Oh ! he is dying ! " sbe 
 shrieked. " He is dying ! Help ! help ! He is dying ! " 
 
 Jack rushed forward. 
 
 But one glance at the pale features was sufficient. 
 
 Sir Marmaduke Osborn was dead ! 
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE CUP OF BLISS IS DASHED FROM JACK'S LIPS BY 
 wild's MYRMIDONS. 
 Keeping close in tbe shadow of tbe houses — shrinking as 
 much as possible from observation — glancing around 
 uneasily — a dark form at dusk, that evening, glided along 
 Drury-lane. 
 
 Near the low, old-fashioned doorway of the " Black 
 Lion " Inn it paused, aud assured, apparently, that it was 
 unwatched, disappeared into the interior. 
 
 That form was Jack Sheppard. 
 
 After the sudden death of Sir Marmaduke Osbom. 
 feeling that his presence was no longer required — that it 
 could neither be of service to himself nor to the baronet — 
 he spoke a few words of consolation, regret, and explana- 
 tion to the bereaved lady, and then departed. 
 
 He was full of anxiety to know whether Edgworth Bess 
 was in safety. From experience, he knew how much to 
 bo dreaded was Jonathan Wild, and he trembled at the 
 thought, that then, at that very moment, she might be in 
 his clutches, or, at least, in such a position as to need the 
 assistance of a manly arm. 
 
 Such a feeling as this, as the reader may suppose, was 
 just the one to make Jack hasten back to London ; but, 
 although it was not much past noon when he began his 
 backward journey, yet, as we bave seen, it was dark before 
 he reached his destination. 
 
 Travelling in those days was a far different thing to 
 what it is now, but it was all the better for Jack that 
 night had come when he entered the city. 
 
 Tbe whole of tbe way he proceeded with the utmost 
 caution. He knew, in all probability, that Jonathan had 
 spies posted iu different places to watch for him, and he 
 was extremely anxious that noue of them should track 
 him to the place where the young girl had found a refuge. 
 
 And so, like some malefactor just escaped from the 
 precincts of a prison, he crept along Drury-lane, aud then, 
 watching his opportunity, disappeared through the door- 
 way of the old inn. 
 
 His heart beat strangely, and his limbs trembled, as ha 
 walked along the dark, narrow passage towards the 
 kitchen. 
 
 He entered hastily, and glanced about him. 
 
 It was vacant..
 
 BLUESKIX: A ROMANCE. 
 
 77 
 
 At least, such was his momentary impression, and then 
 he heard a low and musical voice pronounce bis name. 
 
 The revulsion of feeling that took place in his bosom 
 almost overpowered him, when, turning round, he saw 
 seated in the dark corner near the fireplace the object of 
 his uneasiness. 
 
 She rose to her feet, and Jack, animated by an impulse 
 which he could not control, sprang forward and clasped 
 her to his breast. 
 
 For a few seconds he forgot everything except the 
 fair young creature in such close contact with him ; but 
 i then reflection came back, and he was almost terrified at 
 what he had done. 
 
 Full of confusion, he strove to release himself, and 
 would have done so had not his companion clung to him 
 and prevented him. 
 
 She looked up into his face with some surprise. 
 
 " Oh ! Jack," she said, " I am so glad you have tome, 
 for I feel safe now— quite safe. While you have been 
 away so long I have been full of terrors, and I have 
 started at the slightest sound ; but now you are here I 
 feel quite brave, because I know you can protect me." 
 
 As these words fell upon his ear, as he saw her coun- 
 tenance full of love, and her eyes, half-filled with tears, 
 upturned towards his own, as he felt the soft pressure of 
 his arms about his neck, Jack, for the first time in his 
 life, was conscious of the reality of happiness. 
 
 And let not the reader be surprised that she should 
 thus unreservedly exhibit her affection. She acted 
 merely as nature prompted her ; she had learned none of 
 those artificialities existing in society ; she saw in Jack 
 one who, at the risk of his own life, had protected her 
 from harm — had rescued her from death, which is ever a 
 grim phantom to the young, and she sought not to con- 
 ceal the pleasure which she felt in his society, because 
 she know no reason why she should. Hers, too, was one 
 of those natures which demand something to love. All 
 her life she had pined to find some outlet for her affection, 
 but, until she met Jack, vainly. Is it wonderful, then, 
 that having found an object, she poured forth all her love 
 upon it, snd that, too, without the least concealment or 
 reserve. ,vt 
 
 As tor Jack, he no more than anyone else could help 
 loving her. One glance into her face was sufficient for 
 that, without the confiding reliance she displayed in his 
 ability to protect her from all harm — a feeling which 
 more endears a man to a woman than any other. 
 
 Yes, Jack was happy, as many another has been under 
 similar circumstances, and as many another will be. 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess — for it is by that name we shall 
 call her — who first broke the silence. If she had not, 
 there is no knowing how long it would have continued. 
 
 " Sit down, Jadr," she said. " Sit down ! I want you 
 to tell me all that has^ taken place during your long ab- 
 sence." 
 These words aroused Jack from his abstraction. 
 » He suffered himself unresistingly to be led to the seat 
 Edgworth BeES had occupied when he entered the room. 
 The only light there was in the kitchen proceeded from 
 the ruddy blaze of the fire, which, while it illumined 
 several portions perfectly, yet left others in a shadow 
 which, by contrast, seemed darker than it really was. 
 
 Perhaps the most obscure spot of all was where the 
 voters were now seated, and anyone entering the room 
 -vould certainly not se* them at a cursory glance. 
 
 Jack, who was emboldened by the behaviour of his 
 companion, which was too unequivocal to admit a doubt 
 that she loved him, passed his left arm round her waist 
 and drew her towards him until her head reclined upon 
 his shoulder. ^ 
 
 "And what has alarmed you?" he asked in a wbisDer. 
 n You must tell me all that has taken place." 
 
 " Nothing ! I mean I have only felt in dread of some- 
 thing, without having any cause for doing so. I waa 
 anxious to know th at you were in no danger. ' 
 
 Tack's face app'oached yet closer to his companion . 
 
 ' : Oh ! Jack, she said, speaking very gravely— very 
 earnestly, " I am full of alarm when you are away ! Do, 
 for my sake, abandon your present mode of life and those 
 men you have co nsor ted with. In the end, it can only 
 bring trouble and despair. For my sake alter, and leave 
 Jonathan Wild." 
 
 These words, from the young girl, though very gently 
 uttered, dispersal Jack's happiness. They reminded him 
 
 of what he was and what the young girl was ! He felt in 
 a moment how enormous was the injury he should do her 
 — that she was not made for such as he was. Under these 
 circumstances, his better nature told him that his duty 
 was not to encourage, but to reason the poor girl out of 
 the affection she had formed for him. Although brought 
 up under similar circumstances to himself, yet her rank 
 in life was far above his, and he could feel how base it 
 would be to take advantage of her gratitude. ^. . 
 
 These and many thoughts of a like character passed 
 through Jack's mind with inconceivable rapidity. A 
 struggle which was none the less severe from the short- 
 ness of its duration took place in his bosom, but in the 
 end, despite the overwhelming passion which he felt, 
 duty conquered, and, slowly removing his arm from its 
 position, he raised her head and drew back further on the 
 seat. 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked at him with surprise and grief, 
 and then, in a tearful voice, she said — mistaking entirely 
 the motive which had caused Jack to act as he did — 
 
 " Do not be offended with me for asking you what I 
 have — pray do not. I would not offend you for the world. 
 If I have done so, forgive me and forget it, for I spoke 
 only what I thought." 
 
 By a great effort Jack spoke, but his voice was husky 
 and constrained — 
 
 " No, no," he said ; " you have not offended me. Indeed 
 you have not. How could I be offended with you for 
 asking what you have ? " 
 
 " Then — then," she replied, creeping closer to him, and 
 taking both his hands, " tell me what it is. Do you no 
 longer love me ?" 
 
 " No one but myself can tell you the extent of it, but — 
 but" 
 
 " But what ? " 
 
 " I forgot, and so have you forgotten, the difference 
 there is between us." 
 
 " Difference ? " 
 
 "Yes, difference. I should be base-hearted in the 
 extreme to take advantage of your gratitude and win your 
 love. Do you remember who you are ? You have by 
 right, if not possession, rank, riches, and estates, while I 
 ■ — I — I am — no matter what I am — unfit, at any rate, for 
 you." 
 
 A sob came from the lips of Edgworth Bess as he spoke 
 these words, and his heart smote him for having caused 
 her pain ; but he controlled himself, with a great effort, 
 and went on — 
 
 "I have done wrong," he said, " already, but there is 
 yet time to retract. That I love you is unfortunately too 
 time, but it is not a selfish love. The object of my life 
 shall be to overthrow the designs of those who have so 
 long deprived you of that which you ought to have. I 
 will restore you to your rights. You will then occupy a 
 position among the greatest of the land. All I shall 
 require or wish for in return will be a grateful thought — 
 and that, too, is all I shall accept. When the time comes 
 you will see that I have acted right, and think all the 
 better of me for it. Besides, I would fain believe the 
 feeling you have for me is merely gratitude, not love. Is 
 it not so ? " 
 
 "You know it is not, Jack. I do love you — always 
 shall love you ! As for my rights, I have never known 
 luxury, and therefore cannot feel its loss. I am content 
 to leave what I possess in the hands of those who have 
 been so long accustomed to them, and who will feel more 
 sorrow at being deprived of them than I shall joy in 
 regaining them. ' 
 
 Jack shook his head. 
 
 " That is false reasoning," he said. " You would be 
 doing wrong not to strive to get your due. And you shall 
 have it. But then suppose I suffered you to love me ! 
 What would be said ? That I had acted merely from the 
 most sordid motives. That I had entrapped your young 
 affections ; in fact, that I had been selfish, and that is a 
 fault of which I have never yet been guilty, and it is one 
 which, however bad I may have been, I should never like 
 to have imputed to me." 
 
 " Every word you utter, Jack," whispered Bess, gently, 
 after a brief pause, " makes me love you all the more. Do 
 not cause me needless unhappiness. You own you lore 
 me, or I should not speak as I do. Do not let any feeling 
 or anything others may say stand between us. X at least
 
 78 
 
 BLTTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 shall know it is untrue. Come, Jack, promise me that j Do you hesitate ? roared Blake, threateningly ; do 
 you will think no more of this." a ' J™ hesitate ? If you do, it mil be the worse tor you. 
 
 The temptation was strong. He loved, he was loved in Tlou are under my orders, recollect; I tell you to be 
 return ; but, nevertheless, even that could not blind him gone. > 
 
 to the fact that a union between them could not fail to be | But I have special orders from " . . 
 
 productive of disastrous and unhappy consequences to her. | _ "Are not your orders to obey me in the absence of 
 
 But he had not strength to trample out his love, or to 
 withstand her pleadings. He did not yield, but made a 
 compromise. , . . 
 
 " Let it stay," he said, " until you are placed in the 
 position you ought to occupy. In the meantime, we will tell you there is some mistake ; but whether there is or 
 ■• »-— - 1 i not I will be responsible for the whole transaction, iou 
 
 Jonathan Wild ? Answer me that. Are not those your 
 instructions ? " 
 " Yes, but "- 
 Then go at once, or it will be the worse for you. 
 
 be friends only. If afterwards, when you have become 
 fully accustomed to your change of station, you find your 
 feelings have undergone no change " 
 
 " They will undergo no change, Jack. I am sure they 
 will not. Do not shake your head. Nothing will make 
 me alter. All I ask is that you will quit your dreadful 
 mode of life, that you will leave Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I can readily promise that," said Jack. 1 have, 
 because I would not take part with him against you, made 
 him my enemy. He confined me in a dungeon, but you 
 see I have escaped." 
 
 "And you have done this for me, Jack, she said, and 
 she clasped her arms about him. " Everything I hear 
 makes me love you more." 
 
 Could Jack resist ? He held out his arms, and pressed 
 her to his bosom with a fervid embrace, and kissed the 
 beautiful face so near his own. 
 
 But his bliss was doomed to be abruptly ended, for there 
 was a sound of hasty footsteps in the passage, the door 
 was flung open, and several men in the garb of police- 
 officers rushed in. 
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN APPEARS MOST OPPORTUNELY UPON THE SCENE 
 OF ACTION. 
 
 Edgworth Bess uttered a scream of terror. 
 
 ispc 
 can go back to Newgate-street and say so." 
 
 " Mr. Blake," said Levee, who dared not set Blueskin's 
 authority at defiance, since the standing orders were that 
 in the absence of Wild he should be implicitly obeyed, 
 
 " you don't " 
 
 " I say will you obey or not ? I tell you I will take 
 all the responsibility. That ought to be enough, 
 surely." 
 
 Levee could not say anything further against this, so 
 he, with manifest reluctance, took his departure. 
 
 He went right out into the street, followed by his men, 
 and then he stopped to think. 
 
 " What am I to do, I should like to know ? I dare not 
 go back, even though Blake does order me. Let me see ; 
 he has been away ; this young Sheppard is a pal of his — 
 he knows nothing about the row there's been. Of course, 
 that's it ; now I shall know how to act. Giles ! " 
 One of the men stepped forward. 
 " You have seen what has taken place ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Run, then, at once to Newgate -street, and inform Mr. 
 Wild. Tell him I could not refuse obedience, and that I 
 am here on the watch. They won't escape. I dare say 
 he will come back with you." 
 
 Giles started off at full speed, and then Levee very 
 
 cunningly disposed his men close at hand, and took up a 
 
 Jack sprangto hiTfeet,lind "plunging "his hand into his j position himself just opposite the door of the " 
 
 pocket drew forth a pistol 
 
 " There they are f there they are ! " cried one of the 
 men, who Jack saw was a member of Jonathan's .gang. 
 " There they are * Capture them ! " 
 
 Bess clung to Jack. She was terrified, but yet she felt 
 
 ' Jack Sheppard cocked his pistol, and presenting it, he 
 said, in tones that left behind no doubt as to his sincerity — 
 
 " The first one that comes forward has this bullet 
 through his skull. You may capture me, but if you do it 
 will not be until one at least of you bite the dust. Which 
 
 is the one willing to die in order that I may be taken suffice ! We have parted ! 
 Drisoner ? " " You and Jonathan ? " 
 
 " Come, come, Sheppard," said the officer who had 
 before spoken. " Give in quietly like a sensible fellow. 
 You can't escape, so you may as well save all disturbance. 
 We have orders to take you and the young woman alive, 
 and we mean to do it." 
 
 " Come on, then, and try," said Jack. " I will fight to 
 the last." 
 
 " Forward, then," cried the officer. " We 11 soon stop 
 his crowing " 
 
 Lion," where he determined to wait and watch the course 
 of events. 
 
 Having so far explained matters, we will leave him, and 
 return to the kitchen where our friends were. 
 
 " 1 know all," said Blueskin, " so you need not waste 
 time telling me. I will explain my absence when there 
 is an opportunity." 
 
 " You arrived just in time." 
 
 " Fear nothing, we shall escape ! " 
 
 "But Wild?" 
 
 " I quite agree with all you have done ! Let that 
 
 " Hold! " ciied a voice at this moment, in such stento- 
 rian tones that every one fairly jumped again. " Hold, I 
 jay. What is the meaning of all this ? " 
 
 " Saved ! " whispered Jack to his companion. " Saved ! 
 saved ! " 
 
 The voice came from the passage, and now a tall figure, 
 with a drawn hanger in his hand, strode into the centre of 
 the room, taking up a position between Jack Sheppard 
 and Edgworth Bess and their assailants. 
 
 It was Blueskin. 
 
 Of course he was immediately recognised by all present. 
 
 His arrival was most opportune. 
 
 "What is the meaning of this ? " he cried. " Do you 
 know who you are attacking ? This is one of Mr. Wild's 
 new hands." 
 
 " I don't care what he is," said Levee, for he the officer 
 who had spokeu was. " I don't care who he is, nor who 
 she is either, but my orders from Mr. Wild himself were 
 to take them both prisoners, unhurt if possible, and con- 
 vey them to his house." 
 
 " Impossible. There is some mistake. Begone at 
 once ! " 
 ►But"-— 
 
 You and Jonathan 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Hurrah ! You have told him so ? " 
 
 "Not yet! He will soon find it out in my actions. 
 But we have no time to lose, if we wish to save our 
 necks. Levee must have received very positive orders, 
 and you may depend he is watching outside, while he has 
 sent off to Wild." 
 
 " How, then, shall we escape ? " 
 
 " Trust to me. There is no time for explanations. Be 
 content to place yourself entirely under my orders, and 
 then all will be well." 
 
 " I am willing ! Cheer up, Bess ! Do not fear ! " 
 
 " 1 am not afraid," she replied, clinging more tightly to 
 his arm. 
 
 " That's right." 
 
 " Johnson ! " shouted Blueskin. " Johnson ! ' 
 
 " Here you are ! What is it ? " 
 
 " Go to the door, and see who there is about." 
 
 " All right ! " 
 
 Johnson was only gone about a couple of minutes and 
 then he returned. 
 
 " I den't see anyone ; but you may depend they are only 
 hiding." 
 
 " That's my impression. Now, I am going to try your 
 friendship. I have quarrelled with Jonathan Wild. ' 
 
 " Blessed if I didn't think as much." 
 
 " He will be herp shortly with an overwhelming force. 
 We cannot go ou<. into the lane, but we must leave tkia 
 place. How will you manage it ?" 
 
 " There is no back-way to the house." 
 
 " But, do you mean to say you have no other means of 
 i leaving the house than by the front door ? "
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 79 
 
 Johnson looked around him, and then said in a 
 whisper — 
 
 " I have ; but it is a secret." 
 
 "All the better ; we will keep it ! I cannot stay to tell 
 you all that has occurred, but I will do so. We must 
 leave this place at once. Every minute that we stay adds 
 frightfully to our danger." 
 
 " Then come on, M-. Blake. Are you going to take 
 Bess with you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; this is no longer a refuge for her, and she must 
 be kept in safety." 
 
 " Well, I am very sorry that she's going, that's all. Bless 
 her ! She seems like one of my own." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Blueskin, impatiently. "Which way 
 are we to get out ? " 
 
 "Follow me, and I will show you. Stop a minute, 
 though, I must get a light." 
 
 Johnson provided himself with a lamp, and, having lit 
 it, led them into the bar. 
 
 He closed the door carefully. 
 
 " I am going to put you in possession of one of the 
 secrets of the old ■ Black Lion.' " 
 
 As he spoke he opened a door ou the opposite side, 
 which led apparently to the cellars. 
 
 " Down there ? " 
 
 " Yes. You go first, and I will hold the light and shut 
 the door." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 Still holding his hanger in his grasp, for he had not 
 sheathed it, Blueskin went first down the cellar steps. 
 
 Jack and Edgworth Bess followed, and then Johnson, 
 the landlord, who closed the door, as he said he should. 
 
 The steps were only twelve in number, so the bottom 
 was soon reached, and here the three fugitives paused for 
 Johnson to take the lead. 
 
 The cellar branched off to the right and left. 
 
 Johnson turned to the left, holding the light above his 
 head, so that those who were following might see their 
 way. 
 
 This was highly necessary, for the roof was low in many 
 places, which was owing to the peculiar manner in which 
 it was built. 
 
 It was of tolerable size, and ranged round the walls 
 were several barrels, some erect and some lying down. 
 
 Johnson paused before one of the former, saying — 
 
 " Take hold of the lamp a minute, Blueskin, while I 
 move this cask." 
 
 Then, as Blueskin obeyed, and he had both hands at 
 liberty, he moved the cask from its position, and from the 
 ease with which he did it, it was pretty clear it was 
 empty. 
 
 He stooped down over the place from which he had 
 moved the cask — or rather butt, for such it was — and 
 caught hold of a ring in a stone slab, which opened after 
 the fashion of a door. 
 
 Blueskin was surprised at this. 
 
 Beneath this trap-door could be seen a rather precipitous 
 flight of steps. 
 
 " There you are, Mr. Blake. You didn't know of this 
 neat little arrangement, did you ? " 
 
 " I certainly did not, and I am much astonished." 
 
 " They would be s ometime before they found that out, 
 I rather think." 
 
 " So do I. Where does it lead ? " 
 
 " I was just going to tell you. At the bottom of these 
 6teps you will find a narrow passage. Continue along it 
 until you come to another flight of steps like these. 
 Ascend them. You will find at the top a flat stone slab 
 like this. Do you understand ? " 
 
 "Perfectly. Goon." 
 
 " Close to where this slab, then, fits into its setting, and 
 on the right-hand side of the wall, you will see a small 
 hole about the size of your finger. Put your mouth over 
 it, and blow a good long, steady blast, and wait. In 
 a few minutes the trap above your head will be raised." 
 
 ** And then where shall we be ? " 
 
 " Do you know White Hart-street ? " 
 
 " Yes, it is the first turning to the left when you go out 
 of your front door." 
 
 " Exactly. Well, do you happen to know a little public- 
 house there, called the ' Fountain ' ? " 
 
 "Quite well." 
 
 "Then you know that, although my name is not up 
 
 over the door, yet that house belongs to me, and the 
 man who keeps it is put there by me. 
 
 Blueskin nodded. 
 
 " He will open the trap, and let you out. He will say 
 nothing, but show you the way to the upper regions. 
 Then, if you will take my advice, you will be off as soon 
 as possible." 
 
 " Capital, Johnson, capital ! This is more than I ex- 
 pected. We shall get off all right. Good-bye, old feiiow. 
 Wild is sure to be savage, but he can't do anything to 
 you." 
 
 " All right. Be quick with you. You have no time to 
 lose." 
 
 The three fugitives hastily descended. 
 
 "You must take the lamp, or you will not be able 
 to find your way. I can easily get out of the cellar in the 
 dark." 
 
 As he spoke, Johnson handed Jack the lamp, and then 
 replaced the stone slab over the top of the staircase. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD REACHES TYBURN-GATE JUST A LITTLE 
 TOO LATE. 
 
 The mode of communication between the two houses 
 was certainly a most ingenious one. Those, too, who 
 were inimical to the laws must have found it most con- 
 venient. 
 
 The close, shut-up air, however, in the passage was 
 very disagreeable, producing as it did an unpleasant 
 taste in the mouth, and a clammy feeling about the 
 lungs. 
 
 Jack transferred the lamp to Blueskin. 
 
 " Haste, haste !" he said. " Snug as this place appears, 
 yet I think the sooner we are out of it the better. Follow 
 me." 
 
 So saying, Blueskin set off at a trot which soon brought 
 them to the foot of the steps Johnson had mentioned. 
 
 Edgworth Bess still retained her hold upon Jack's arm. 
 She accompanied him composedly — a circumstance which 
 arose from no bravery upon her part, but from the 
 feeling of safety the presence of her lover engendered in 
 her bosom. 
 
 At the top of the steps Blueskin found the circular 
 aperture, and covering it with his lips, he blew into it as 
 steadily as he would have done into a tube, which it in 
 reality was. 
 
 No result, so far as he could tell, followed this. He 
 expected to have heard some sound, but all was still. 
 
 It was rather an anxious few minutes which passed 
 after giving this summons before they heard a faint noise 
 overhead. 
 
 Immediately afterwards the slab was raised, and a man 
 carrying a light appeared. 
 
 His face was quite familiar to Blueskin, who had seen 
 him many times. The recognition, too, seemed mutual, 
 for the man uttered an exclamation. 
 
 "All right, Barham," said Blueskin. "Johnson has 
 sent us here." 
 
 " Come on, then. What in the world can be up, that 
 you come this way ? Hullo ! there's a girl, too ! " 
 
 " My friend," said Blueskin, quietly, " you will find it 
 your best policy to hear, see, and say nothing, and show 
 us the way into the street at once." 
 
 " Very well, sir," said Barham, as he placed his lantern 
 on the top of a cask, "you must just stop a minute, while 
 I put the place square." 
 
 " Don't be any longer than you can help, then." 
 
 " I won't, Mr. Blake." 
 
 The means by which the opening was concealed were 
 precisely similar to those in the cellar of the " Black 
 Lion." 
 
 Having restored everything to its ordinary appearance, 
 the man who had been called Barham by Blueskin, pre- 
 ceded them up a flight of stone steps, at the top cf which 
 was a door opening into the bar. 
 
 Here he paused, and extinguished the light. 
 
 Then he opened the door cautiously, and peeped ,>rth, 
 to make sure no one was observing them. 
 
 Finding the coast clear, he stepped out, and motioned 
 to the fugitives to follow him. 
 
 " Now, Barham," said Blueskin, " I want you to do mo 
 a little service, and I can assure you it will be nothing 
 out of your way."
 
 80 
 
 BLUESKIN: A. ROMANCE. 
 
 1 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Blake ? Let me know what it is, and 
 it is done at once." 
 
 " I rather fancy, then, that some of Wild's men are 
 lurking about on the look-out for ns. I just want you- to 
 see whether there is or not." 
 
 " Oh, very well. Of course. Just so," said Barham, 
 confusedly. He could not understand what Blake had to 
 fear from Wild's men. 
 
 But he went off, nevertheless, in a perplexed, absent 
 sort of way, to do his bidding. 
 
 "Now,'* said Blueskin, "if Barham comes back to say 
 all's right, I propose we leave London at once. Our first 
 consideration must be to find a place of refuge for Bess 
 here, and where we know she will be perfectly safe. 
 After that we can make arrangements for the future." 
 
 " Stseet seems all right," said Barham, returning at 
 this juncture. 
 
 " Very well, then. We are off. Here is a guinea for 
 your trouble." 
 
 All four now made their way to the front door of the 
 little public-house. 
 
 At the time of which we are writing London streets 
 were, after nightfall, comparatively deserted, for it was 
 positively unsafe for anyone to be abroad. 
 
 It was very dark. 
 
 Blueskin turned to the left upon issuing from the inn. 
 
 Before, however, he had taken a couple of steps, he 
 heard the trampling of many horses' hoofs coming along 
 Drury-lane, at a tremendous gallop. 
 
 He turned round, and looked, and saw a disorderly 
 troop sweeping down Drury-lane. in the direction of the 
 ■■ Black Lion.' 7 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " he said. " Come along, Jack ! 
 We have got off only just iu time. You must run with 
 me as far as Long-acre, where I will get horses." 
 
 He did not wait for a reply, but set off with great 
 rapidity, and Jack and Bess had much difficulty iu keep- 
 ing him in view. 
 
 The thought of the implacable foe who was so close upon 
 their track nerved them to an exertion of which, under 
 other circumstances, they would have been incapable. 
 
 By the route taken, Blueskin showed that his knowledge 
 of the locality was in no way inferior to Jack's. Avoiding 
 the main streets, he threaded his way through a number 
 of courts, and, at length, emerged into Long-acre, just 
 opposite the place to which he was bound. 
 
 This was the livery stables from which he had procured 
 a horse on a former occasion. 
 
 An archway of some length led into the stable-yard, 
 and under this the darkness was profound indeed. 
 
 Here Bess and Jack waited while Blueskin made his 
 way into the stable-yard. 
 
 " Do not be afraid," said Jack to his companion. " All 
 will be well. I have every confidence in Blueskin, as he 
 is called — every confidence." 
 
 " I am not alarmed," said Bess, quietly. 
 
 •' You do not speak as if you were, at all events. How- 
 ever, we are very far indeed from being safe." 
 
 " Jack — Jack ! " said Blueskin in a undertone. " Jack 
 -Jack ! " 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 "Come this way." 
 
 Bess would not let go his arm, so the pair went towards 
 Blake, whose form they could just distinguish as being a 
 trifle darker than the surrounding darkness. 
 
 " What is it ? What is it ? " 
 
 " Can you ride ? " 
 
 "A little." 
 
 " Very well, then. We shall manage capitally. Wo can 
 have a couple of splendid nags. I will take one, and you 
 can take the other." 
 
 "And Bess?" 
 
 " She must mount behind you." 
 
 " That will do." 
 
 " Hush ! Go again iu the top of the gateway. I will 
 come with the horses in a minute." 
 
 And he was as good as his word, for, at the expiration 
 of the time he had mentioned, he appeared leading two 
 horses by their bridles. 
 
 " Now," he cried, as he sprang into the saddle, " up 
 with you, and let us be off." 
 
 Jack mounted, and then he found that without assist- 
 ance he could not lift Bess on to the saddle behind him, 
 so that Blueskin was obliged to get down again. 
 
 He took hold of her round the waist, and liftec". her 
 on to the horse's back with all the ease in the world. 
 
 " Sit firm," he said, " and clasp Jack with both your 
 arms, and you cannot hurt. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 Blueskin was on the back of his own steed in a mo- 
 ment. 
 
 " Listen, Jack, to what I am going to say. I will go 
 first, and all you will have to do will be to keep me in 
 view." 
 
 " But where are we going ? " 
 
 " I hardly know yet, except to some little distance from 
 London. We shall have no difficulty in finding the sort 
 of place we want." 
 
 I hope we shall not, and that we shall not be chased 
 by Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " That is a vain hope, then. He has people in his 
 employ all round about London, and he will soon find 
 which way we have gone." 
 
 " Then if that is the case, there is no time to lose." 
 
 "There is not. However, we have got the start of 
 him. Now, off and away." 
 
 Blueskin darted out of the stable gateway at a good 
 speed, and Jack followed him closely. 
 
 It was perceptible in a moment that they were two 
 splendid horses, admirable both for fieetness and en- 
 durance, and they sped down King-street with a tremen- 
 dous clatter. 
 
 Blueskin shaped his course for the Oxford-road. 
 
 The road he took was not the ordinary one, that would 
 have made pursuit too easy. He traversed instead the 
 wilderness of streets about Seven Dials and Soho, and 
 emerged at length into the Oxford-road not far east of 
 the spot where it is intersected by Regent-street. 
 
 Tins was open country then. A few gentlemen's resi- 
 dences could be seeu here and there, but nothing more in 
 the shape of human habitations. 
 
 The road was smooth and level, so they allowed their 
 horses to go with increased speed, which, so far from 
 being unwilling, they were only anxious to do. 
 
 The rate at which they now went was one that precluded 
 all attempt at conversation. Blueskin still kept a yard or 
 so in advance. 
 
 Hiding was Jack Sheppard's greatest delight. He 
 had not had many opportunities for practice, but all that 
 he did have he took advantage of, and in the present in- 
 stance his knowledge of equitation stood him in good 
 stead. 
 
 As for Edgworth Bess, though at first and naturally 
 enough terrified at the apparent insecurity of her position, 
 yet in a little while she became used to it, and held on 
 bravely. 
 
 Presently Blueskin drew up. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Nothing. But do you see that faint light just before 
 us ?" 
 
 "Yes. What of it?" 
 
 " That is Tyburn Gate." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 Jack looked about him with an uneasy sensation. 
 
 " The triple tree, then," he thought, " is somewhere 
 close at hand." 
 
 " We must go at a slower pace, so as not to excite the 
 tollman's suspicion. I will go first as before. You 
 follow." 
 
 " Hark ! " said Jack. " What is that ? " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Listen. Cannot you hear the beat of horses' hoofs ? " 
 
 Blueskin dismounted in a moment, and flung himself 
 flat down in the roadway. 
 
 For a space of time, during which one might have 
 counted twelve, he listened. 
 
 " I can hear distinctly the beat of the hoofs of four 
 horses. They are coming along at a tremendous rate." 
 
 " Is it Jonathan ? " 
 
 " It may be, but I should scarcely think it probable he 
 can have tracked us here so soon." 
 
 " On, my friend, on." 
 
 " Not so," replied Blueskin, remounting, " we must go 
 along at an easy pace. If we do not, the tollman will not 
 open the gate, and then we shall be done." 
 
 " We should." 
 
 At an easy rate, then, they now advanced towards thj 
 gate.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 31 
 
 [EDGWORTH BESS TAKES SHELTER IN THE RUINEn ABBEY.] 
 
 The pikeman, hearing the sound of approaching horse- 
 men, left his little tenement, and leisurely proceeded 
 to undo the fastening of the gate." 
 
 "Here you are, my man, ' said Blueskin. " Here's a 
 crown for you. I'm rather in a hurry to-night, so I will 
 call for the change the next time I come by." 
 
 "^ Oh! thin, your honour's a jintleinan, and I hope you"— 
 Shut the gate ! " roared a voice, " shut the gate. I 
 am Jonathan Wild ! " 
 
 " Och, then, you're a mighty big villin anyway,' mut- 
 tered the Iitshinan. 
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MEETS WITH A VERY SERIOU3 MISHAP 
 ON THE WESTERN-ROAD, AND FINDS ALL HIS CUN- 
 NING COMPLETELY THBfsWN AWAY. 
 
 How on earth Jonathan W Hd had managed to be so soon 
 upon their track was more than either of the fugitives 
 could eonceive ; yet by some means or another there he was. 
 
 5Fo. Il7~ 
 
 " Shut the gate," he roared. " Stop them ! Shut the 
 gate ! " 
 
 But Jack and Blueskin were already through. 
 
 They tore along the Great Western-road at a terrific 
 pace. 
 
 The Irish toll-collector was evidently no friend of the 
 thief- taker's. The words he had muttered were tolerably 
 good evidence of the fact, but now what he did was even 
 more unequivocal, 
 
 As soon as our friends were through he shut the gate, 
 and fastened it, during which operation he muttered, — 
 
 " Jonathan Wild, is it ? Oh ! bad luck to you, you thief 
 of the world. Wasn't it last session ye soragged the 
 iligant O'Grady, fifth cousin, by the mother's side, to the 
 O'Grady's, that's kings o' Connaught, if they only had 
 their rights. Oh ! bad luck to you ! " 
 
 At this moment Jonathan Wild reached the gate. 
 
 The curses that came from his lips, upon finding hia 
 prey had escaped him, were of the most awful descrip- 
 tion.
 
 fc> 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMAKCE. 
 
 *' Open the gate ! " he yelled. " Open the gate ! " 
 
 Then came another volley of oaths, during the utterance 
 of which his men arrived. 
 
 " Oh ! now. Be aisy, will ye. Shure, didn't ye say, 
 ' Shut the gate ! and, by the powers, haven't I done that 
 same ? " 
 
 " Open the gate, i say! Eefuse at your peril! I am 
 Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I know that well enough/' said the Irishman, in a 
 whisper, as he undid the gate. 
 
 Jonathan did not waste any time in swearing at the 
 toll-man after the gate was once open, but dashed through 
 it at full speed, closely followed by four of his men, who 
 wore almost but not quite so well mounted as himself. 
 
 Although the delay did not amount to more than a 
 minute and a-half, yet it was enough to give the fugitives 
 a tolerable start, and the circumstance was, for them, a 
 most favourable one indeed. 
 
 But if it enabled them to get out of sight, it did not 
 enable them to get out of the hearing of their pursuers. 
 
 " On — on ! " Blueskin cried, at intervals. " On — on, or 
 we shall be overtaken." 
 
 The pace at which they went was really something 
 alarming. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was terrified, and clung tightly to her 
 preserver. 
 
 But so long as she did that she was safe. 
 
 It was along the Uxbridge-road they went at this terrific 
 pace. 
 
 At last the sounds of their pursuers no longer reached 
 their ears. 
 
 " We have distanced them," said Jack, as he reined in 
 a little, for his horse had began to show signs of distress. 
 " Pull in a bit." 
 
 Blueskin did so, and listened. 
 
 Not the faintest tramp was perceptible. 
 
 " Can you hear anything ?" asked Jack. 
 
 " No. I am puzzled." 
 
 " Why ? We have come along at a furious rate. I have 
 hardly been able to get my breath at times." 
 
 " I can't understand our getting out of earshot of them. 
 Something has happened." 
 
 " So much the better then ; but come, while we walk 
 the horses up this hill — and they will be quite knocked-up 
 if we don't— just tell me what is your plan of opera- 
 tions P " 
 
 " Jonathan being so soon at our heels has disconcerted 
 me. The best thing we can think about, Jack, in my 
 opinion, is to get as far away as we can." 
 
 " But where shall we go ?" 
 
 " That I must think about. And now, don't you run 
 away with the idea that Wild has given up the chase, be- 
 cause, if you do, you will be very wrong indeed. So long 
 as we keep on the road he will follow us up." 
 
 " I suppose he will." 
 
 " You may depend upon it. If you will be guided by 
 me, you will keep on at a good speed. The road is smooth 
 and dry. Jonathan will soon make himself heard in our 
 rear ; but, having distanced him, as we appear to have 
 done, we had better maintain the advantage we have 
 gained." 
 
 This, supposing that they had really outstripped Wild, 
 was the best possible advice, but neither of them put a 
 proper estimate upon the cunning of their foe. 
 
 It was a mistake that they fell into, as will be shertly 
 seen. 
 
 The top of the hill was soon reached, and the horses 
 were much refreshed by the kind of rest they had had. 
 They were really first-class animals, as was shown by the 
 readiness with which they obeyed the impulse to set 
 forward again. 
 
 Blueskin resumed his former position, and down the hill 
 they swept like the wind. 
 
 They paused now and then to listen, but all behind them 
 was quite silent. 
 
 The more Blueskin thought upon this circumstance the 
 more he was puzzled, and, to tell the truth, alarmed. 
 
 No one perhaps knew Jonathan Wild better than he 
 did, very few so well, and from his conduct on this occa- 
 sion he felt there was everything to dread. It waa part 
 ef his policy to lull his victims into a state of false 
 security. 
 
 But he thought, whatever he may attempt, the best 
 thing to do is clearly to make as much speed as is possible. 
 
 With this conviction upon his mind, he urged his horse 
 forward, and as the bargain was that he should be kept in 
 view, Jack had to follow his example. 
 
 In the far distance a few twinkling lights came in 
 sight. 
 
 " What is that ? " cried Jack at the top of his voice. 
 
 "Ealing," was the reply. "We will pull in a little as 
 we go through the village." 
 
 They reached the outskirts of it in a few minutes^ and 
 reduced their gallop to a canter. 
 
 The high street was quite deserted. 
 
 Lights gleamed from many of the windows, showing 
 that the inhabitants had not yet retired to rest. 
 
 But, without attracting anything in the shape of obser- 
 vation, they emerged into the bleak country beyond. 
 
 And now the moon, which was only a few days beyond 
 the full, rose above the mass of clouds on the horizon, 
 and lighted up the landscape with a silvery misty radiance . 
 
 " Forward, Jack ! " cried Blueskin, again touching his 
 horse with the spur. " Forward ! forward ! We are, as 
 yet, a great deal too near London to be safe." 
 
 Scarcely, however, had his horse resumed its former 
 pace than he pulled up with great suddenness. 
 
 " Halt ! Jack ! " he cried. " Look to your pistols ! We 
 shall have to fight for it yet." 
 
 Jack Sheppard gave a hasty glance before him, and 
 then, uttering an exclamation of astonishment, did his 
 companion's bidding. 
 
 By the aid of the moon he saw, at a short distance, four 
 men completely blocking up the road. 
 
 " Surrender ! " cried a voice, which reached them with 
 the utmost distinctness. " Surrender ! or we fire ! " 
 
 The voice was Jonathan Wild's. 
 
 Yes, impossible as it might seem, there was no mis- 
 taking it. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, whom they thought they had left in the 
 rear, was actually before them, barring their further 
 progress. 
 
 They heard, too, his discordant laugh, and if any doubt 
 as to his identity had been lingering in their minds, that 
 would have at once dispelled it. 
 
 " Surrender ! " he cried again. " It is your only course. 
 If you give in quietly you shall have no ill usage. ' 
 
 Jack made no reply, but crept closer to Blake. 
 
 " What shall we do now ? " he said. " It strikes me it 
 is all over with us." 
 
 " I am a fool," replied Blueskin, " worse than a fool ! I 
 have allowed myself to be entrapped by Wild. There is 
 only one course open to us. To retreat would be madness, 
 because we should be sure to be intercepted by some more 
 of the band. We must ride through them." 
 
 This was rather a bold course, but yet as he had truly 
 said, it was the only one open to them. 
 
 Jonathan still maintained his position. 
 
 Surely he was playing some very deep game, or he 
 would have dashed forward to attempt their capture. 
 
 But no. There he remained. 
 
 He called out again. 
 
 His object was to keep their attention occupied. 
 
 He would have succeeded had it not been for Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 " Look, look," she said, in Jack's ear. " Look over the 
 hedge to the right and to the left." 
 
 He turned and did so. 
 
 "By heaven! Blake," he said, "we are done. The 
 remainder of his band, in two positions, are crossing the 
 meadows on either side of us." 
 
 Blueskin only gave one hasty glance, and that sufficed 
 to enable him to comprehend all the danger of their 
 position. 
 
 " On, on," he said. " We are forced to it now. Fix 
 yourself firmly in your saddle. Be ready with your pistols. 
 By making a sudden charge we shall be able to force a 
 passage right through them. Be ready at the word." 
 
 " All right, Blue. 8 
 
 "Now/' 
 
 With an impetuosity scarcely to be conceived, the two 
 horses sprang forward in obedience to the sharp appli- 
 cation of the spur. 
 
 So utterly unexpected was this manoeuvre that, as 
 Blueskin had rightly enough conjectured, Wild was for a 
 moment completely taken aback. 
 
 But a man so used to sudden surprisee as ha was woaid 
 sore not to be long recovering himself.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 83 
 
 " Fire ! " he yelled, as he drew a pistol from his holster. 
 "Fire! Down with them! Shoot them both ! Fire, I say!" 
 
 A succession of reports followed his words. 
 
 But no execution was done. All were too much flurried 
 to take a correct aim. 
 
 And now the men who had been perceived by Bess 
 crossing the meadow reached the high road, and they tore 
 along with all the speed they could induce their horses to 
 make. 
 
 Wild and the other three men made a desperate but 
 abortive attempt to check our friends. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack, as if by common consent, pointed 
 their pistols at the thief-taker, and, as they swept by him, 
 both fired. 
 
 The two pistols made but one report. 
 
 A hideous shriek came from Jonathan's lips, and his 
 horse, rearing at the unusual sound, threw him heavily 
 into the roadway. 
 
 This was an event that produced the utmost conster- 
 nation in the minds of his men, and they rode their 
 horses against one another at a loss how to act. 
 
 But when the others came up they dismounted, and 
 went in a body to where he lay. 
 
 He was quite insensible, or else dead ; which of the 
 two it was they could not take upon themselves to say. 
 
 Levee was the first to recover himself, and take the 
 responsibility of action. 
 
 In fact he had something of a personal feeling against 
 Blake, which may go a long way towards accounting 
 for it. 
 
 " Mount, four of you, and follow me. The remainder 
 had better attend to Mr. Wild, and convey him to New- 
 gate-street. Now, then, off and away." 
 
 But the time that had elapsed since Jonathan fell from 
 his horse was sufficient to permit the fugitives to get both 
 out of sight and hearing. 
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS ALARMED AT FINDING EDGWORTH 
 BESS HAS BEEN WOUNDED BY A PISTOL SHOT. 
 
 The appearance of Jonathan Wild in the road in advance 
 of the fugitives looks a little mysterious, and lest the 
 reader should fall into the mistake of supposing him 
 ubiquitous, we will proceed to account for that rather 
 peculiar state of affairs. 
 
 After the little cross accident at the turnpike he felt 
 that his prey had got too good a start for him to be able 
 to come up with them without a very long chase into the 
 country, which was a thing he by no means desired. 
 
 They must be intercepted. 
 
 But how ? 
 
 The strategic brain of the great thief-taker was not long 
 in devising a means. 
 
 We have before had occasion to remark on the intimate 
 knowledge he possessed of London and its environs. It 
 had been acquired at the expense of a great deal of time 
 and trouble, but its value to him was immense. 
 
 In the present instance he knew that the road curved 
 very considerably round to the left, being, in fact, bow- 
 like in shape. 
 
 But this was scarcely apparent to any one upon the road 
 itself. The radius of the curve was too great for it to be 
 appreciated unless by some one viewing the country from 
 above. 
 
 The idea, then, at once entered Wild's mind that if he 
 took to the fields and pushed forward in a direct line at a 
 good speed, he would be able to steal a march, so to 
 speak, upon those of whom he was in chase, by getting 
 in advance of them. 
 
 To be sure he ran the risk of losing them altogether, if 
 they happened to take to the fields or any one of the 
 cross-roads diverging from the main one, but a mode of 
 preventing their escape by this means quickly occurred to 
 him. 
 
 Taking three of the men with him, he directed four 
 others to keep in the meadows on the north side ot the 
 road, and four more on the south, for by the time the alter- 
 cation with the pikeman was over the remainder of the 
 band had arrived. 
 
 Having made these dispositions, then, and in an in- 
 credibly short space of time, Jonathan set off at full speed 
 over the open country, quite heedle66 of the damage he 
 might do. 
 
 Jonathan calculated, too, that hearing no sounds of 
 pursuit might lull the fugitives into false security, and 
 cause them to proceed at an easy rate. 
 
 In this, as the reader is aware, he would have been 
 perfectly right, had it not been that Blueskin felt the safest 
 course was to get as far from London in as small a space of 
 time as he possibly could. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, followed by his men, took his course 
 most undeviatingly across the open country, with appa- 
 rently nothing whatever to guide him. 
 
 At last he reached the cross-roads just above Ealing 
 turnpike, and there he drew up. 
 
 His joy was great when the faint trampling of horses' 
 hoofs reached his ears. 
 
 He was in time. 
 
 The eight men in the meadows, he calculated, would be 
 very close indeed behind them. 
 
 So far all had gone well, when a little circumstance 
 occurred which he had omitted to take into account, 
 though, if he had, it would have amounted to much the 
 same thing. 
 
 The moon broke forth. 
 
 Yes, that was the contingency that had been overlooked . 
 The moon rose above the clouds, and he was discovered 
 sometime before he intended to be. 
 
 He was in hopes that his sudden appearance right before 
 their very faces would fill them with a momentary panic, 
 of which he would take advantage. 
 
 The men in the rear would have prevented all retreat. 
 
 Had things turned out just as he wished, the position of 
 our friends would have been perilous indeed ; but, as it so 
 happened, they saw him in time to save themselves. 
 
 Any ordinary man, one would have thought, would in 
 Wild's place have even then dashed forward and attempted 
 to capture them, but this he felt would be most impolitic 
 until his men were behind them. 
 
 Then the affair would have been easy. 
 
 It would have so turned out had not Edgworth Bess 
 happened to see the men crossing the fields on both sides 
 of the road. 
 
 A bold action now alone could save them, and what 
 could be bolder than attempting to force a passage over 
 Wild and his three men ? 
 
 The very audacity of the proceeding went a long way 
 towards crowning it with success, for certainly nothing 
 was further from Wild's expectations. 
 
 We have seen how it succeeded, and how, by a pistol 
 bullet, he had been laid low. 
 
 Having thus far explained matters, we will return to 
 the fugitives, whose perils were by no means over. 
 
 " Speak !" said Jack Sheppard, anxiously urning round 
 towards his companion. " Speak, dearest, are you un- 
 hurt?" 
 
 " It is nothing." 
 
 " You were hit, then ? " said Jack, as he brought his 
 horse to a stand-still. 
 
 " What are you pulling up for ? " asked Blueskin, turn- 
 ing towards them. " You must be mad ! On— on ! " 
 
 " Bess is wounded," said Jack. 
 
 " No — no ! I hope not ! " said Blueskin in tones of 
 alarm, and reaching the side of Jack's horse with a bound. 
 " No— no ! I hope not ! At least, not seriously." 
 
 " It is nothing, believe me," said Edgworth Bess. " Do 
 not stay. Oh ! do not. Fly — fly ! " 
 
 " But not if you are wounded. A trifling wound is 
 made a dangerous one by inattention. Where were you 
 hit ? Speak quickly, in order that there may be no more 
 delay." 
 
 " On my neck." 
 
 Blueskin leaned forward, and then saw that the back of 
 the young girl's neck and her shoulder were quite covered 
 with blood. 
 
 " This is a serious hurt, I fear," said Blueskin. 
 
 "No — no," cried Jack: "do not say that — do not say 
 that." 
 
 With great speed now Blueskin took from his poeket a 
 handkerchief, and with it wiped away the blood as well as 
 he could, in order to discover the nature of the wound. 
 
 He trembled, in spite of himself, as he did so. 
 
 To his intense relief he found, however, that the wound 
 was nothing more than a scratch along the back of her 
 neck, and scarcely more than skin deep. 
 
 This would account for the profuse manner in which it 
 bled, it being the characteristic of such wounds.
 
 S4 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " A very dose touch," he said ; "but as it is, there is 
 not much harm done." 
 
 " It is not dangerous, then ? " said Jack, with a sensa- 
 tion of the utmost relief. 
 
 " Certainly not ; all that is requisite is to stop the flow 
 of blood. Take off your cravat, and I will form it into a 
 bandage, and then matters will be all right until we can 
 give it a little more attention." 
 
 Jack tore off his cravat in a moment, and handed it to 
 his friend, who, having again wiped away the blood, 
 bound it tightly about her neck. 
 
 " There," he said, " you will do now. It is a good thing 
 you spoke when you did, or the consequences might have 
 been serious indeed." 
 
 " Thank heaven," said Jack, " that you have escaped. 
 I shudder when I think that a difference of two inches in 
 our position, at that critical moment, would have bereft 
 me of all I hold dear in the world, for, without you, I 
 should not care to live. My life would have no purpose." 
 
 These words were, as the reader may suppose, spoken 
 by Jack, in a whisper, to his companion. 
 
 Blueskin was listening for sounds of pursuit. 
 
 " They follow us, yet, he cried. " Forward, Jack, all 
 is well now. We have an excellent start. Let us take 
 care to keep it." 
 
 " Is Jonathan dead, I wonder ? " asked Jack. " I heard 
 him yell out." 
 
 " He was hit certainly ; but whether killed, is more 
 than I can say. His horse reared, and threw him to the 
 ground." 
 
 " He will be incapable of continuing the pursuit iu 
 person, then. There is some hope in that. On — on." 
 
 " One minute," said Blueskin. " When we get far 
 enough to be completely out of earshot of our foes, we 
 will leave the high-road, and strike across the country to 
 the right, where I am in hopes of finding you shelter, if 
 Bess can keep up so long." 
 
 " Oh, yes — yes. Do not think of me, I beg, except that 
 I am willing to endure anything to escape." 
 
 " You have a brave spirit, like your father." 
 
 " My father ? You knew him, then ? " 
 
 Blueskin was silent. He had, in an unguarded moment, 
 said that which it was his intention to remain locked up in 
 his breast for the present. 
 
 "Tell me. Tell me. My father? Oh, speak." 
 
 " I did know him. But this is neither the time nor 
 the place for explanations. On, if we are yet to escape." 
 
 There was so much obvious truth in this that the young 
 girl curbed her intense desire to know something ot her 
 parents, and continued silent. 
 
 Tbe reader, however, must not suppose they had been 
 standing still during this brief dialogue. Such was not 
 the case. They had been going at an easy gallop, but 
 now they put their horses to full speed. 
 
 Once more did the trees and hedgerows seem to flit 
 by them, like objects in rapid motion. Once more did the 
 beat of the horses' hoofs upon the hard road break the 
 stillness of the night. 
 
 It was full three-quarters of an hour before Blueskin 
 slackened speed, and then it was because he had reached 
 the poiat where he wished to leave the high road ; but 
 before he did so it was necessary for him to ascertain 
 whether his pursuers were within hearing. 
 
 He adapted the plan which he found serve his purpose 
 before, namely, to place his ear upon the road and 
 listen. 
 
 This time all was still. 
 
 Not the faintest sound which might be construed 
 into heralding the approach of his foes made itself ap- 
 parent. 
 
 " All is well," he said ; " I really believe we have dis- 
 tanced them this time." 
 
 " Unless they have taken to the meadows." 
 
 " That is a point we can ascertain." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " You are young and agile. Yonder is a tall poplar ; 
 ascend it, and from that elevation you will be able to 
 command a view of the country for many miles. 
 
 " I will do it," 6aid Jack, as he at once rode towards 
 the tree spoken ot, " I shall manage it easily enough." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 The feat of clijnbing up a tree was nothing to one 
 whose muscular system was so well developed as Jack's 
 
 was, and in less time than one could have thought possible, 
 he was amongst the topmost branches of the tree. 
 
 From this advantageous position he took a long, steady 
 look about him, but nothing save the various objects 
 which composed the landscape met his gaze. 
 
 Feeling, then, tolerably confident that their foes were 
 not very close at hand, he descended. 
 
 " All is well ? " said Blueskin, interrogatively. 
 
 " I hope so. I can see no one." 
 
 " Mount, then, and we will be off ; but as we have yet 
 to go some distance we will not distress our horses by 
 making too much speed." 
 
 " They are splendid animals," said Jack, " and have 
 served us well." 
 
 " All the better reason to take care of them. Come 
 on." 
 
 With these words he turned down a narrow lane, lead- 
 ing in a north-westerly direction from where they then 
 stood. 
 
 " Cheer up, dearest," said Jack, as he followed his 
 comrade, whose position was now so different to what it 
 had been. 
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 THE THRKE FRIENDS FIND A REFUGE FROM JONATHAN 
 WILD IN THE RUINS OF TYLNEY ABBEY. 
 
 Two hours after this our friends came to a halt. 
 
 During that time they had heard nothing of their foes. 
 
 There were no indications of the coming day. 
 
 The moon had attained her greatest altitude and bril- 
 liancy, for not even one of those beautiful white misty 
 clouds, so generally seen on moonlight nights, speckled 
 the heavens. 
 
 " We are in Oxfordshire now, Jack," said Blueskin. 
 " We passed the boundary a little while ago." 
 
 " Indeed, I had no idea we had come so far." 
 
 " Few have accomplished the distance in so short a 
 time as we have. It is a good forty miles from here to 
 London. And now look round. Can you on your right, 
 at about a mile distant, see a mass of trees ? " 
 
 " Yes, it seems quite a large forest." 
 
 " That, then, is our destination." 
 
 " The wood ? " 
 
 " Exactly. But if you look a little more carefully you 
 will see the top of an old ruin." 
 
 Jack Sheppard, whose curiosity was instantly aroused, 
 strained his eyes, and then saw, dim and indistinct, some- 
 thing which, aided a little by the imagination, did look 
 like a ruin. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, too, looked curiously towards the place 
 which it appeared Blueskin had selected as being a safe 
 place of refuge. 
 
 " What ruin is it ? " asked Jack. " What place is it ? 
 Why are you so mysterious ? " 
 
 "One question at a time. Walk your horse ; there is 
 no occasion for hurry now, and I will tell you." 
 
 " Will this road lead us to it ? " 
 
 " No, you must take the first lane to the right. I will 
 show you. And now to reply to your question. That ruin 
 which you see yonder is all that remains to show where 
 Tylney Abbey, one of the grandest ecclesiastical edifices 
 in all England, once stood." 
 
 " I have heard the name." 
 
 " No doubt, no doubt. The place, as you see, is now 
 surrounded by a wood. By some means or other the 
 place has got an evil reputation, and the consequence is 
 that not one of the inhabitants of this district^ can be, 
 under any circumstances, induced to approach it." 
 
 " I see. And so you think from this very fact it will be 
 a safe place of refuge ? " 
 
 " I do, until a better can be found. I have no hesita- 
 tion in saying that their supernatural terror is without 
 adequate cause. Some accidental occurrence has given 
 rise to it." 
 
 " I am not frightened," said Jack, hesitatindy, " but I 
 do not know how Bess would be." 
 
 " With you safe and content anywhere," she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 Jack was delighted with this reply, and regretted that 
 their positions were such as to make it impossible for him 
 to clasp her to his heart, which he had the greatest pos- 
 sible inclination to do. 
 
 " Bess," said Blueskin, who of course did not hear her
 
 A ROMANCE, 
 
 85 
 
 reply, " is, I am sure, possessed of too much good sense 
 to be alarmed upon such needless grounds." 
 
 " It's all right," said Jack, " she says she don't mind." 
 
 " I knew she would not, especially if she took into 
 
 account all the advantages there would be in staying in 
 
 such a place. We might count upon absolute safety, for 
 
 that we should rest somewhere is absolutely necessary." 
 
 " I am quite willing to be guided by you," said Bess ; 
 " besides which, I am most anxious to hear what you know 
 about my father." 
 
 " You shall hear it. We will also take measures of 
 some kind to rescue your possessions from your unnatural 
 uncle." 
 
 " I am very curious to know several things," said Jack, 
 after a short pause. 
 
 " Defer them until we arrive. Talking now is far from 
 an agreeable occupation, besides which, I wish to tell you 
 what I intend in a straightforward manner." 
 
 " One question," said Jack ; " how long do you think of 
 staying at this abbey ? What is the name of it ? " 
 
 ,! Tjlney." 
 
 "Yes, Tylney Abbey. How long are we to stay 
 there ? " 
 
 "That will depend entirely upon circumstances. At 
 present it is out of my power to say." 
 
 A few minutes now served to bring them to the 
 boundary of the wood which surrounded the abbey 
 ruins. 
 
 It was evident, from the manner in wbich Blueskin took 
 the lead, that the place was by no means unfamiliar to him. 
 Jack observed it, but said nothing. He knew that all 
 would be fully explained at a fitting opportunity. 
 
 A broad, leafy glade, which seemed like some well- 
 kept avenue in a nobleman's grounds, stretched out before 
 them. The turf beneath their feet was soft and 6pringy, 
 and the horses' hoofs made no sound as they came in con- 
 tact with it. 
 
 Upon most occasions this spot was in darkness, but 
 now, owing to the altitude of the moon, it was lighted up 
 with great distinctness, and presented a spectacle of magic 
 beauty very rarely indeed met with. 
 
 As they proceeded, however, it grew gradually narrower, 
 and consequently darker. 
 
 Upon reaching its termination, Blueskin spoke. 
 
 "Dismount," he said. " You will no longer be able to 
 proceed on horseback. I will lead the way.' 
 
 Jack obeyed, and assisted Bess to alight. 
 
 Both were glad, after having maintained one position 
 for so long, to make this change. 
 
 With his horse's bridle over one arm, and the other arm 
 supporting his fair companion, he followed Blueskin along 
 a narrow and mazy footpath. 
 
 It was only with difficulty that they could see about 
 them now, and at every step they took the darkness 
 seemed to deepen. 
 
 But ho words could possibly convey an idea of the 
 intense silence that prevailed in that deserted place at 
 that lonely hour, nor can the imagination, without reality, 
 form a due conception of it. 
 
 Moie tangled became the path at every step they took, 
 and more difficult to travel. Luxuriant undergrowth 
 encumbered the ground, while projecting boughs from the 
 trees and shrubs on either side of them formed almost an 
 impenetrable barrier. 
 
 But when it seemed as though really they could force a 
 way no further, a light appeared before them, and, in 
 another moment, they emerged into a kind of courtyard in 
 the abbey ruins. 
 
 This place, seen by the chastened light that then illu- 
 mined it, was, indeed, most beautiful, and such as neither 
 Jack nor Bess had ever seen or heard of. 
 
 The inclosure in which they stood was about a hundred 
 yards in length, by forty or fifty in breadth. It was 
 surrounded on all sides by tall, crumbling walls, their 
 gray-looking surface being in many places relieved by 
 dark patches, where the ivy, and other climbing para- 
 sites, embraced them. 
 
 Many windows and quaint-looking doorways were 
 visible — the former all light — the latter deep shadow. 
 
 It was, however, but a hurried and transient view that 
 Sheppard and his companion had of this place. Calling 
 to them to follow him, Blueskin made his way in a direct 
 line across it, and under a dark archway. 
 
 On the other side of this was a small paved court, not 
 dissimilar in appearance to the one they had just left. 
 
 Beyond this there was another and another, which 
 served to show Jack the vastness of the building. 
 
 At length Blueskin paused before a low arched door. 
 
 The stout oak wood of which it was composed had, like 
 the walls, resisted time. It was clamped heavily with 
 iron, which doubtless contributed not a little to its 
 durability, for it now presented an appearance of great 
 strength. 
 
 " It is a fine place, Jack, is it not ?" said Blueskin. " A 
 little ghostly-looking, but I like it all the better for that." 
 
 " I should think we should be safe here ?" 
 
 " Safer than anywhere in England. Even if they knew 
 we were secreted here, and that is a piece of knowledge 
 they are not likely to get, they would have a great deal of 
 trouble in capturing us. There are a thousand turnings 
 and windings and secret places in the ancient fabric that 
 would puzzle them, for the monks who built this place in 
 olden times had cunning spirits." 
 
 " You seem to know all about it, Blue ?" 
 
 "Do I?" 
 
 " Yes. Have you ever been here before ?" 
 
 " Wait a bit. I'll tell you all presently. Bess, my dear 
 — you must excuse me, you know — are you not very tired 
 and badly in want of a rest ?" 
 
 " I am indeed." 
 
 " Very well. Jack, just hold my horse a minute, and 
 then I shall be able to unfasten the door." 
 
 Jack hastened forward, and took Blueskin's horse by 
 the bridle, while that individual, after a minute's search 
 in his pocket, produced a picklock. 
 
 Long practice had made him skilful in the use of such 
 articles, and the bolt of the lock flew back in a moment. 
 
 The door creaked dismaHy as it swung open upon its 
 hinges. 
 
 Blueskin took his horse again and led him through the 
 opening. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, with Bess and his horse, followed. 
 
 It was in a kind of garden that they now found them- 
 selves, or rather what had at some remote period or other 
 been a garden. Now it was merely an enclosed place, 
 overgrown with tall, luxuriant grass. 
 
 A great portion of this place was in shadow, for the 
 walls were so high as to intercept at least one-half of the 
 moon's rays. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess could not help 
 looking about them with the greatest curiosity and interest. 
 To the young and unvitiated taste there is always some- 
 thing entrancing in the contemplation of such scenes. 
 
 " This place will do for the horses," said Blueskin, as 
 he turned his loose. " They cannot stray from here, do 
 what they will, for there is no outlet except by that door 
 yonder, and that we can keep closed." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin raked his arm, and pointed to a 
 small door in the wall nearly opposite the one by which 
 they had entered, and which had been carefully secured 
 again. 
 
 " And where does that lead to ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " To the interior of the ruins. Hitherto you have seen 
 nothing but the outer courts." 
 
 " It is an extensive place." 
 
 " You have had no means of judging of its vastness, for 
 what you have seen forms but a small portion of the vene- 
 rable pile. But come, I will show you the interior." 
 
 With the help of the picklock Blueskin opened the little 
 door. 
 
 He stood on one side to allow his companion to pass 
 him. 
 
 Then he secured the door. 
 
 " Keep straight along the passage. There is no obstruc- 
 tion, and it is only a few feet in length. There is a flight 
 of steps at the end. 
 
 But although this assurance had been given him, Jack 
 felt rather disinclined to walk along a place so profoundly 
 dark as that was, so he would have Blueskin to precede 
 them. 
 
 It was not for his own sake though, that Jack Sheppard 
 was so careful. It was for his companion's. 
 
 Blueskin advanced without hesitation to the foot of the 
 stairs he had spoken of. 
 
 * It is an awkward place in the dark for those who are 
 unaccustomed to it, so I will get a light." 
 
 " Will it be safe ? "
 
 86 
 
 BLTJESKJN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 " Oh ! yes. If any of the peasants saw it they would 
 sot it down to the ghosts." 
 
 Tbe ascent was a fatiguing one, the steps being upwards 
 of a hundred in number. 
 
 At the top Blueskin turned round, and ushered them 
 into a small chamber. 
 
 " This is at the top of the north turret," he said, " and 
 here we are quite at home you see." 
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN GIVES EDGWORTH BESS AND JACK SHEPPARD 
 SOME ACCOUNT OF HIS PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 That portion of the old abbey ruins which was known 
 as the north turret derived its name no doubt from its 
 position, forming, as it did, the most northernly portion 
 of the edifice. 
 
 The room at the top really did look as though they 
 would be at home in it. To Jack's astonishment he found 
 several articles of furniture in it, which could only lately 
 have been placed there, while in a primitive-looking grate 
 a quantity of wood was piled up, which would soon burn 
 up into a good fire. 
 
 These things were rendered visible, not so much by the 
 lantern Blueskin carried as by the light of the moon, 
 which poured in through the window in a perfect flood, 
 and lighted up every corner with the greatest distinct- 
 ness. 
 
 " Here we are quite at home, you see," said Blueskin 
 again, as he closed the door ; " you did not expect this, 
 did you ? Stop a moment until I have lighted the wood, 
 and then see how different the place will look." 
 
 " It's a strange thing to find it in this condition, but I 
 suppose it is your doings." 
 
 " No." 
 
 " No ! There is a story attached to the whole affair 
 which you shall know at the earliest opportunity. I know 
 you are curious, but if you will let me be I will tell you 
 all that has taken place since we parted. There, now, 
 that is something like." 
 
 Blueskin had opened the lamp and set fire to the 
 wood. 
 
 It blazed up bonnily. 
 
 " It is," replied Jack Sheppard ; " and now Bess, sit 
 down. Here is a chair. 1 am sure you must be weary 
 in body and mind after all you have gone through to- 
 night." 
 
 Edgworth Bess smiled faintly. She bore up well, but 
 in reality she was all but exhausted. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that although she had not 
 lost any serious amount of blood, yet she had lost enough 
 to weaken her to no small degree. 
 
 The bandage which Blueskin had placed around her 
 neck had effectually stanched the effusion of blood. 
 
 It was really surprising how comfortable the old place 
 looked after the space of two or three minutes, and when 
 Blueskin went to a cupboard which they had not pre- 
 viously noticed and took from it some provisions their 
 comfort was quite complete. 
 
 All were hungry, and made a hearty meal of the sub- 
 stantial fare before them ; but as soon as the cravings of 
 hunger were appeased, Jack turned to Blake, and said, — 
 
 "jt am dying with curiosity to have an explanation of 
 all this. I am puzzled beyond measure. Do not keep us 
 any longer in suspense, but tell us at once." 
 
 " Such is my intention. In the bottom part of the 
 cupboard you will find some wood. Put some on the fire, 
 and we shan't have to interrupt to do that. Then I will 
 begin." 
 
 Jack gladly enough executed this commission, and piled 
 the wood on the fire in such a way as to make it readily 
 catch light. 
 
 But as he did this, his eye rested upon the bandage 
 round Bess's neck, and he recollected that her wound 
 had not been attended to, as it ought to have been, 
 first thing. 
 
 " Forgive me," lie said, and his voice proclaimed how 
 much he was vexed. " Forgive me for being so careless 
 and forgetful ; but I have been so much occupied by the 
 sights here, that 1 forgot to look to your wound." 
 
 " Oh! yes," she replied, " so had I." 
 
 She carried her hand to her neck as she spoke. 
 
 " Then if that is the case," interrupted Blueskin, " it 
 
 shows that it is nothing of any aceount. I am glad 
 of it." 
 
 " But that is no excuse for me," said Jack. " It might 
 have been dangerous." 
 
 "If I myself forgot it, I think you may be excused 
 for doing so. Until you spoke, I had forgotten it." 
 
 With trembling fingers Jack undid the bandage, and 
 when it was fairly removed his delight may be imagined, 
 when he found the bullet had done nothing more than 
 scratch the skin for about two inches. 
 
 The bleeding must have ceased immediately the bandage 
 was tied over it, for it was scarcely stained. 
 
 " Thank heaven !" 
 
 Bess smiled. 
 
 All three now seated themselves round the fire, 
 while Jack, taking his fair companion's hand in his, 
 with her awaited the commencement of Blueskin's nar- 
 rative. 
 
 "In the first place," he said, "about these ruins." 
 
 " Yes — yes. How did you come to know of them ? " 
 
 " From one of Wild's men." 
 
 " One of Wild's men ? How, then, can we be safe ? 
 Will he not search this place thoroughly ? " 
 
 ■" Wait a bit, until you have heard all. This man's 
 name was Geoffrey. He was a great friend of mine. He 
 is dead, now. Jonathan had him hanged the sessions 
 before last." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " He did. One day he took me so far into his confidence 
 as to tell me of this place, though he assured me that he 
 had never before hinted at its existence to any one. He 
 always intended it in case of danger as a place of refuge 
 to which he could fly and remain undetected." 
 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " It was he, then, who managed at odd times to furnish 
 the place as you now find it. He also laid in a splendid 
 supply of fuel in the shape of wood. In his conversation, 
 he very accurately and minutely described the whole of it, 
 so that when I came here yesterday to verify his story, I 
 had no difficulty from his description in finding my way 
 hither." 
 
 " Yesterday?" 
 
 "Well, perhaps it would be more correct to say last 
 night, for it was night when I got here. I learned a 
 very important fact, namely, that Lord Donmull — for such 
 is his name — had had an interview with Wild." 
 
 " I guessed as much from what Jonathan said to me." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed. Now, however, I am overrunning my 
 story. I ought to have told you when speaking of Geoffery 
 that it was only two days after he told me about this 
 place that Jonathan had him committed to Newgate on a 
 charge of robbery, and seven days afterwards executed at 
 Tyburn." 
 
 " Good heavens ! Can it be possible ? " 
 
 " It -was, and so you see there is a pretty fair inference 
 that I am the only person to whom this place is known. 
 I mention this in order that you may have no groundless 
 alarm about it." 
 
 " Very good, and now you say you learned that Lord 
 Donmull had had an interview with Jonathan ? " 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 " Then what had that to do with your coming here ? " 
 
 " His lordship I knew could only have seen Wild upon 
 one subject, and that was relative to his niece. He 
 would offer a large sum for Jonathan to place her in his 
 hands." 
 
 " I think he did." 
 
 " You remember, then, that the last I saw of you was 
 when I left you speaking to Wild in his own room ? " 
 
 " I know it was — the villain ! Where did you go ? " 
 
 " To the ' Magpie and Stump ' opposite, and who 
 should I find there when I entered but Quilt Arnold, 
 who, in the course of some talk we had together, told 
 me that Lord Donmull had had an interview with 
 Jonathan." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " Well, I waited a long time at the ' Magpie,' for where 
 I sat I could see the door of Little Newgate, and I made 
 sure I should see you come out, but you never came, and 
 at last I thought, as the hours slipped by, that you must 
 have slipped out when my attention was withdrawn, 
 though I hardly thought it was possible." 
 
 " I was in one of Wild's dungeons then, my friend." 
 
 " Never mind now. Tell me your adventures whon I
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 87 
 
 have done. I thought at last I would go over and inquire 
 whether you really had left. Tonks was on the lock, so I 
 asked him. He told rne you had been gone more than a 
 eouple of hours." 
 
 "The villain ! " 
 
 " Wild had no doubt told him to give that answer to 
 anyone who might inquire for you. I was far from satis- 
 fied. I went to the ' Black Lion,' and found you had not 
 been there. Then some suspicion of the truth entered 
 my mind." 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " However, I was rather at a loss how to act, for I did 
 not know who was in the most danger, you or Edgworth 
 Bess ; but I reasoned thus : you were better able to defend 
 yourself than she was, and so I made up my mind to find 
 her some secure place of retreat, where she would run no 
 risk of being found by Wild, and then turn my attention 
 to you, for I made up my mind that you should suffer no 
 injury at the hands of Wild." 
 
 " Thanks for that. It shows you are a friend." 
 
 Blueskin took no notice, but went on. 
 
 " While casting about for a place, this old abbey came 
 into my mind. I did not decide upon it all at once, but 
 thought of several other places. In the end, however, I 
 decided upon this. 
 
 " So far, of course, all was quite right, except that I had 
 only Geoffery's word for such a place being in existence. 
 Bess I knew would be safe for a few hours longer where 
 she then was. So I mounted and rode here to see whether 
 all was as had been represented to me." 
 
 " I begin to see now." 
 
 " Of course you do. Although then I had my doubts, 
 yet I felt pretty sure that T should find things just as he 
 described them. Still, as there was a doubt, I thought it 
 would be impolitic to take Bess away from the ' Black 
 Lion ' until I had satisfied myself, as, by so doing, I might 
 perhaps be taking her into unnecessary danger." 
 
 " You were thoughtful." 
 
 " No harm, I considered, would ensue if I took down 
 with me a good stock of provisions, so I did so. Came 
 here — found the place as you see it now, and stowed the 
 provender into the cupboard." 
 
 " Capital. Really, the more I hear the more indebted 
 1 become to you." 
 
 " Just stir the fire and listen. Having succeeded so far 
 I turned back to London. The first place I went to was 
 Drury-lane. Johnson was standing at the door. I asked 
 whether Bess was all right, and on telling me she was, I 
 went without delay to Newgate-street." 
 
 " You were indefatigable. And you did all this for 
 me ? " 
 
 " Partly for you, partly for her. For the pair of you I 
 would gladly do ten times as much. It was early morning 
 when I reached Wild's house : in fact, about an hour 
 before dawn. I found the place in the utmost confusion. 
 Joe White had been killed by a blow on the head, and two 
 prisoners had escaped. I soon found they were you and 
 some other person." 
 
 " Sir Marmaduke Osborn." 
 
 " Wild was furious, and out somewhere, as they sup- 
 posed, in search of you. As this was several hours after 
 you had made your escape I felt pretty sure that you had 
 got clear off. At all events 1 did not see how I was to be 
 of service to you, so I went to bed, for I was utterly worn 
 out." 
 
 " I should think you were." 
 
 " I do not believe I could have kept up an hour longer. 
 I went to bed then, and never awoke until about an hour 
 before you saw me." 
 
 " Indeed ; -what did you do ? " 
 
 " I learned Wild had come home. I felt that you and 
 him and Bess yonder would be enemies to the death. I 
 could not serve both, so I followed my inclination and 
 sided with you." 
 " And you will ? " 
 
 " To the last day of my life. Jonathan and myself are 
 now as great enemies as you and he are. The interview 
 I had with him was a rather stormy one, and he made 
 an attack upon my life. In the brief struggle that ensued, 
 though, I proved myself the stronger, for he was badly 
 hurt." 
 
 Jack laughed. 
 
 " I left my mark, I know." 
 
 " It was you then that had mauled him so, was it ? Never 
 
 mind, I got off all safe, and arrived at the ' Black Lion ' 
 just in time to save you." 
 
 "You did, indeed. Without your interposition we 
 should both have been inmates of Wild's house." 
 
 " Not a doubt ; and now you know all." 
 
 " Not all," said Edgworth Bess, quietly, who had never 
 uttered a word during the explanation, " not all. You 
 promised to speak to me of — of — my father ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 IN WHICH BLUESKIN RELATES THE STORY OF HIS LIFE, 
 AND ADVISES EDGWORTH BESS TO PURSUE A PARTI- 
 CULAR MODE OF ACTION. 
 
 " So you did, Blueskin," said Jack Sheppard, " so you 
 did. I, too, am full of anxiety to know that. I will tell 
 you my adventures afterwards." 
 
 A remarkable change came over the face of Joe Blake, 
 but this circumstance only inflamed Jack's desire. 
 
 " At last," he thought, " I am going to hear that which 
 he has before so resolutely refused to tell me." 
 
 Blueskin spoke, and both the young people became 
 eagerly attentive to the words he uttered. 
 
 • I have already told you the name of your unnatural 
 uncle. It is Lord Donmull, but the title, like the estates, 
 is not lawfully his, although he has so long held possession 
 of them." 
 
 "But he shan't much longer," said Jack, impetuously. 
 " My whole energies shall be employed in wresting his 
 ill-gotten gains from him." 
 
 "It is rather singular, but I have to tell you both 
 about your fathers. Strange, too, neither of you can 
 remember them." 
 
 Upon bearing these words Jack trembled violently ; then, 
 starting to his feet, he stood by Blueskin's side and whis- 
 pered in his ear, — 
 
 " When you speak of my father do not allude to — to " — 
 
 He could not complete the sentence. " His ignominious 
 fate," he would have said. 
 
 " I understand," said Blueskin, " don't be afraid ; I 
 would not speak of it before her for the world." 
 
 " That is well." 
 
 Jack, whose mind was now at ease, reseated himself. 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked at both with great surprise, but 
 to Jack's relief said nothing. 
 
 " They are two rather singular things," continued Blue- 
 skin. " However, you must know about twenty -two years 
 ago, Jack's father — Tom Sheppard his name was — and 
 myself were in the'' employ of Lord Donmull — not the 
 present lord — his brother." 
 
 " My father ? " said Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Just so. I was at that time eighteen ; Tom Sheppard 
 four years older ; that is, twenty-two. The situations we 
 relatively occupied were coachman and valet. Tom was 
 the former, I was the latter." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " A very great friendship subsisted between us, and had 
 done for years. Our master was a kind and indulgent one, 
 and the place was everything we could wish. 
 
 " It was soon after this that your father, Jack, married, 
 and in less than a twelvemonth after that our master 
 married too. 
 
 " There were grand rejoicings on the occasion, of course, 
 and none entered into them with apparently greater zest 
 than master's only brother, Abel." 
 
 " The one who is now lord ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Go on — go on." 
 
 The narrative was one that made them feverishly im- 
 patient to hear the sequel. Already the dire domestic 
 tragedy was shadowed forth before them. 
 
 ' All went well, and then, Jack, you were born. Two 
 years afterwards she who now sits by your side came into 
 the world. 
 
 " Just before the acoouchment 1 happened to catch a 
 glimpse of Mr. Abel, for so he was called, as he came out 
 of the library. His aspect frightened me. 
 
 " Still, at that time I did not connect the two events at 
 all, though I afterwards had good cause to do so. 
 
 " I know that it was master's hope that the child about 
 to be born should prove a boy, but in this he was dis- 
 appointed. It was a girl. 
 
 "But whatever regrets he might have felt upon this 
 account were quickly banished by the alarm, the serious
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 and even dangerous aspect which his wife's illness assumed, 
 for he was more attached to her than husbands are to 
 their wives generally. ^ 
 
 " The poor lady never rallied. She lingered for some 
 time, but, in spite of all that medical science could do, she 
 died, and her husband became disconsolate." 
 
 " Upon thus hearing the fate of the mother she was 
 destined never to know, the tears thronged thickly in the 
 eyes of Edg worth Bess and trickled down her cheeks. 
 
 " The little one, however, which, unlike its parents, was 
 healthy and robust, still lived, and this afforded the 
 bereaved husband the greatest consolation, and, as she 
 grew older, centred in her the affection he had previously 
 felt for her mother. He doated upon her in the fullest 
 acceptation of the word." 
 
 " My poor— poor father," said Edgworth Bess, with a 
 fresh outburst of sorrow. " And am I never to know 
 him ?" 
 
 " He is dead," said Blueskin, avoiding a direct reply to 
 her question. 
 
 A pause now of some few moments duration ensued. 
 
 It was Jack who spoke. 
 
 Thai probably was because he was the one least under 
 the dominion of painful emotions. 
 
 " Come," he said, " do not be so downcast. Go on, 
 Blueskin. Let us hear the rest." 
 
 " The worst part of the story is now to come," he 
 replied ; " by far the worst part, as you shall hear." 
 
 These words caused Edgworth Bess to look up with re- 
 newed curiosity. 
 
 " It will disclose that which I have never uttered to 
 mortal— what has made me what I am. What I refused 
 to tell you, Jack, on more than one occasion." 
 
 " I know you did." 
 
 " Lord Donmull, my master, then, doated on his 
 daughter, but adverse fate had not yet done with him. 
 One morning the child disappeared." 
 
 " Disappeared P " 
 
 " Yes, and no trace was left to show where it had gone. 
 My master was like a madman. In vain every means 
 which could be tried was made available, all was without 
 result, except that suspicion fell upon two persons." 
 
 " Two persons ?" 
 
 " Yes, Tom Sheppard and myself." 
 i " And how was that ? " 
 
 " By the machinations of Abel Donmull. We were had 
 up, but, although nothing could be proved against us, yet 
 the suspicion which had been attached to our characters 
 was unremoved. We were forced to quit that service in 
 which we had been so happy. Vainly we both tried to 
 elsewhere obtain employment. The story spread— we 
 were refused — and, to save ourselves from starvation, were 
 driven into crime." 
 
 " Good heavens ! " 
 
 " I need not tell you that we were innocent both in 
 thought and deed. Unwearied were our efforts to find 
 the lost one, for we hoped, in the event of our succeeding, 
 all would yet be well ; but all was vain, and at last we gave 
 up the search in despair. 
 
 " You are both now in possession of facts of which I 
 was then and for long after ignorant. Grief prematurely 
 hurried Lord Donmull to the tomb. You have already 
 learned the conditions of the will- His brother Abel is 
 now in possession of the title and estates." 
 
 Edgworth Bess and Jack Sheppard now comprehended 
 all. 
 
 " Then this uncle of mine must be a very wicked man," 
 she said. 
 
 " He and I have an account to settle," replied Blueskin, 
 " and woe to him when the day of reckoning arrives." 
 
 The tone of his voice was gloomy and threatening. 
 
 " He has much to answer for," he said. " Thank God, 
 that part of his villainy which doomed you to death was 
 unfulfilled ! " 
 
 " Between us we can surely overthrow him," said Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 Blueskin shook his head. 
 
 " The task will be a difficult one," he said, " a very 
 difficult one. He is bold and unscrupulous himself, and 
 will obtain bold and unscrupulous agents. Unfortunately, 
 we are not so well situated to defend her as we might be." 
 " You hare already done more than ever I can repay 
 you for — much more," replied Edgworth Bess, "but 
 
 there is one thing you have not told me, and that is my 
 name. Is it Elizabeth ? " 
 
 " It is Lady Elizabeth Donmull." 
 
 The title sounded strange to her, and when he heard it 
 Jack seemed to feel a barrier rise up between him and the 
 object of his affections. 
 
 " I hope," she said, for with a woman's quickness of 
 perception, she read what was passing in Jack's mind. " I 
 hope that to both of you at least I shall never be anything 
 but Edgworth Bess." 
 
 "You have your mother's disposition," replied Blue- 
 skin. " She was an angel ! May your fate be happier 
 than her's." 
 
 Alas ! this was a hope that was destined not to be ful- 
 filled. However, our readers must peruse the strange 
 story of her fortunes to the end, when one of the most 
 terrible of domestic tragedies will be made patent to 
 them. 
 
 " Do not let me ask this of you in vain ? " she continued. 
 " Promise me, Jack," she said, as she put her hand upon 
 his shoulder, " promise me that you will never think of 
 or call me by any other name." 
 
 "I will— I do!" 
 
 " I don't know whether it's right of Jack," said Blue- 
 skin, " to make love to you in that kind of way. You 
 must recollect that his position in life is very different to 
 yours." 
 
 " Yes ; that is it," replied Jack. " I too can feel that 
 it is not right." 
 
 " Jack," said Bess, reproachfully, " I do not deserve 
 this ; I recollect only that he is my preserver from death, 
 or some still worse fate." 
 
 " Well, I hope you will be happy. You will be, if I 
 can make you so! I can tell you this though, Jonathan 
 Wild is a man who is to be dreaded as an enemy." 
 
 " Pho ! pho ! " saidjJack. " I don't feel afraid of him ; 
 I have always beaten him yet. Listen. I will tell 3 t ou 
 what took place after you left me with him." 
 
 Jack Sheppard then, without further preface, proceeded 
 to relate those facts with which the reader has already 
 been made acquainted. How Jonathan endeavoured to 
 persuade Jack to join him in the nefarious scheme against 
 the heiress, how he had refused, how he had been cast 
 into a cell. Then how he overheard the conversation 
 between Wild and Sir Marmaduke Osborn. The manner 
 in which he entered the baronet's cell, overcame Wild, 
 and set free the unfortunate victim of his rapacity. Their 
 singular adventures on the river, and at last the baronet's 
 decease. To all this Blueskin listened with the greatest 
 conceivable interest, and when Jack concluded his narra- 
 tion, he said — 
 
 " For all this, and the wound he received to-night, 
 Wild will seek a bitter vengeance. I tremble for the 
 result." 
 
 "Pho! pho!" 
 
 " You will find it no light matter. He is a desperate 
 villain ! " 
 
 " I do not fear him ! " 
 
 " I never doubted your courage, but you must admit 
 that I know him much better than you do." 
 
 " Granted." 
 
 " Then I say to you, in all earnestness, beware ! We 
 have a difficult and a dangerous part to play, and the 
 chances are all against our being successful. ' 
 
 " Not for the sake of all the riches in the world, then," 
 said Edgworth Bess, " shall you incur this danger on my 
 account. You have done enough already." 
 
 " No — no ! besides which, we fight for justice. My 
 poor master's memory, although he died thinking badly 
 of me, demands it. By doing this, is the only way of atoning 
 for the crimes of which I have been guilty." 
 
 " I am content to leave my inheritance in the hands of 
 those who hold it," said Edgworth Bess. " I b».ve never 
 known wealth and luxury, and therefore do not fee 1 <&eir 
 loss. Let him remain." 
 
 " And do you think," said Blueskin, solemnly, " that 
 by such a course as that you are acting rightly. I mean 
 with justice to yourself and your dead parents ? No, I 
 am sure you do not. Eight is right ! but wrong is no 
 man's right."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 H 
 
 [BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD EXELGAE THE PASSAGE BENEATH THE NORTH TURRET OP THE RUINED ABBEY.] 
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD COME TO AN UNDER- 
 STANDING. 
 
 " That is true," said Jack Sheppard. " It is a duty you 
 owe to society, to yourself, and to your deceased parents, 
 to strain every nerve to gain possession of that which is 
 yours, by all laws, human and divine." 
 
 " I cannot but be convinced of the truth of what you 
 say," said Edgworth Bess ; " and after all you have both 
 done for me, it would be unkind and ungenerous upon my 
 part to longer hold out against you." 
 
 " That is well," replied Blueskiu, rising from his seat. 
 " But look, the new day has already come. While the 
 sun is above the horizon we have but little to fear, and as 
 we must all take rest in the shape of sleep, that is 
 obviously the best time for us to do so. We will then defer 
 all further talk for some few hours. The accommodation 
 is but rude. This room, Bess, we will leave to you, Jack 
 and I shall be able to find a place below." 
 
 This proposition was so warmly seconded by Jack, that 
 Edgworth Bess was compelled to accede to it. 
 
 " You may consider yourself in perfect security, added 
 Blueskin, as he left the room. " Do not suffer anything to 
 alarm you. We will keep such good watch at the loot of 
 the stairs, that you shall be effectually shielded from all 
 harm. Not, however, that I apprehend anything, but 
 still, we shall take care to be prepared." 
 
 Then, without waiting to hear the thanks of the young 
 girl, whose position without two such staunch and true ad- 
 herents as they proved to be would have been sad indeed, 
 Blueskin closed the door and descended the turret stairs. 
 
 " I don't know where we are to find sleeping accommo- 
 dation," he said to Jack; "but I suppose you, hke me, 
 will not be very particular." - 
 
 " I shall not ; besides which, I do not feel at present 
 particularly in need of rest. Do you ? " 
 
 « Well, no, I can't say I do. When I have a gooa iong 
 sound sleep it lasts me for some time." 
 
 « So it does me. Now nearly all day yesterday while I 
 
 No. 12.
 
 •JO 
 
 BLUESKIN : A RCMAECE. 
 
 was returning from Tilburyness_ in a lugger I was usleep, 
 so vou see I am not very much in need of it." 
 
 " Here, then, is the bottom of the stairs. What do you 
 propose to do ? " 
 
 " I leave that to you. is there any outlet to this place 
 save the one by which we entered ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I noticed two small doors." 
 
 " Where do they lead ? " 
 
 " That is more than I can tell. My knowledge of the 
 place is confined to the places you have already seen. 
 
 " Then you do not know what is on the other side of 
 those doors ? " 
 
 " No more than you." 
 
 " Then I shall not feel comfortable until I do. I am 
 very curious and restless in that respect." 
 
 " Well, we will look if you like. It will serve to pass 
 away the time." 
 
 They now paused before one of the doors of which 
 Blueskin had spoken. It was a surprising thing that the 
 wood should have resisted decay in the manner it had, 
 for, although it must have been some centuries old at 
 least, vet there it was firm and strong upon its hinges. 
 
 The lock, however, was a very rude affair, with a key- 
 hole large enough to put three fingers into, so that Blue- 
 skin unfastened it with the greatest ease. 
 
 <; Ah ! Jack," he said, "people are beginning to under- 
 stand locks a little now. When this was made they had a 
 notion that the larger the lock and the heavier the key the 
 more secure it would be. That was a grand mistake, and 
 some day people will find that a small lock is a better 
 defence for a door than a large one." 
 
 He pushed open the door as he spoke, and crossed the 
 threshold with Jack close at his heels. 
 
 Neither were exactly prepared for the magnificent spec- 
 tacle which now presented itself. The little door led into 
 what was evidently the chapel of the abbey. It was in an 
 excellent state of preservation. 
 
 The red gold tints of the rising sun lighted it up with 
 magic splendour. There was a magnificent oriel window 
 — or rather the remains of one, for much of the fine 
 carving and the whole of the glass had disappeared— in 
 the eastern portion of the chapel, and it was through this 
 that the sun's rays came. 
 
 It would have been impossible for anyone human to 
 gaze upon such a scene as that was without the keenest 
 sensations of delight, and Jack, who had a warm appre- 
 ciation of the beautiful, was especially enchanted. 
 
 Blueskin, too, who beneath the i-ough exterior he had 
 assumed carried a mind that had been well informed and 
 a nature almost as gentle as a woman's, was scarcely if 
 any less pleased. 
 
 Had it not been for the unfortunate chain of circum- 
 stances which had conspired to fix upon him the abduction 
 of the young heiress, how different in every respect would 
 he have beeu. 
 
 He had now, though, the consciousness that he had an 
 important duty to fulfil. He would devote his life to the 
 restoration of his master's daughter to her lawful rights, 
 and, as he reflected upon the strange events which had 
 made her acquainted with him, he fancied he recognised 
 in them the finger of that mysterious power called Provi- 
 dence. 
 
 May he succeed ! The task, though, would be one of 
 fearful difficulty and danger. No one knew how much the 
 power of Jonathan Wild was to be dreaded better than he 
 did, and he could not help trembling for the result. 
 
 Lord Donmull, too, as the reader has seen, was not a 
 man to stick at trifles where so impoi-tant a thing as 
 ousting him from hie estates was concerned. He had all 
 the resources which abundant wealth ever places in the 
 hp-rds of its possessor, while they were fugitives from the 
 laws. 
 
 Bitterly, most bitterly, did Blueskin repent that he had 
 led Jack into crime. But it was now too late. The mis- 
 chief was done. 
 
 Such is a summary of the train of thoughts that 
 passed through his mind as he gazed rpon the ancient 
 chapel. Jack noticed his abstraction and spoke of it. 
 
 " It is nothing," he said. " Come, we have, 1 fancy, 
 seen all there is in this place to be seen. Let us return. 
 There may be no danger, still we ought not for a moment 
 to leave her unguarded." 
 
 This was quite sufficient to make Jack turn back, and 
 
 hasten to the foot of the turret-stairs. Ail was still there, 
 however, and just as they had left it. 
 
 The second door was now opened. The lock was so 
 corroded with rust that it for a long time resisted all 
 Blueskin's attempts upon it. At last however, it 
 yielded. 
 
 " Hullo ! " 
 
 " What now ? " 
 
 " Why, look, the place is as dark as pitch. It must be 
 the way to the vaults." 
 
 Jack peeped over his friend's shoulder, and certainly the 
 black-looking space on the other side of the door did look 
 as though it led to the vaults. A damp, earthy smell, too, 
 was perceptible. 
 
 The turret-staircase itself, which was of course a cir- 
 cular one, received ample light from the loopholes, which 
 were at regular intervals let into the stonework, so 
 that the comparison between the two places was very 
 great indeed. 
 
 " You have got a lamp, Blueskin, haven't you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Light it, and then, perhaps, we shall be able to see 
 what kind of place it really'is." 
 
 " I was just going to do so when you spoke. Stop a 
 minute." 
 
 The little lantern was quickly lighted. It was a bull's- 
 eye, and a broad bright ray of light issued from the lens. 
 
 " Why," said Blueskin, " it is just a continuation of the 
 turret-stairs." 
 
 " So it is," replied Jack, as, leaning forward, he con- 
 vinced himself of the truth of what his friend had just 
 said. 
 
 " Where they lead to of course I don't know. Some- 
 where underground. The cellars, most probably." 
 
 " Is it worth our while to go down ? " 
 
 " I hardly knew. Are you inclined for an exploring 
 expedition ? " 
 
 " I am ; and independently of that, in my own opinion, 
 I think it ought to be a kind of duty upon our part to 
 make ourselves thoroughly acquainted with every nook 
 and corner of the place, and all its intricacies, in case 
 at any time, we should be attacked here." 
 
 " You are right. Not that I much fear such a thing. 
 Still it is possible, and in the event of it, why such a 
 knowledge as you speak of would prove most service- 
 able." 
 
 " I am glad you think as I do." 
 
 " It would hardly be possible, on such a point as that, 
 to hold a contrary opinion." 
 
 " How differently you talk, and how differently you 
 seem in your manner to what you did when I first knew 
 you." 
 
 " Do I, Jack ! " 
 
 " You do, indeed." 
 
 " Then it is because I am more like myself. The other 
 was assumed. The truth is, I was sick and weary of the 
 world. I hated it because it had so unjustly persecuted 
 me, but now that I have found my master's daughter I 
 have something like a purpose in living, and so you see 
 the mask is slipping off my face, and I am becoming more 
 like I once was." 
 
 " I am glad of it." 
 
 " Well — well ! Let us leave it. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " Quite ! " 
 
 " Then follow me." 
 
 " You think we can leave the turret in safety." 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I do not think we have anything to fear. 
 Leave the door open and come on." 
 
 Blueskin at once began the descent of the winding steps. 
 He held the lantern so as to diffuse as much light as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 As they got lower and lower, however, the dampness 
 and dullness of the place perceptibly increased. 
 
 The walls, when the light fell upon them, were seen 
 dripping with wet, while in many places they were over- 
 grown with a kind of green moss. 
 
 After descending some thirty steps, Blueskin came to 
 a halt. 
 
 " There seems no end to this place," he saia. "How 
 much lower do the stairs go, I wonder ? " 
 
 " That I expect we shall only be able to ascertain by 
 going down." 
 
 " I shall try twenty steps more, and if we don't reach 
 the bottom then, I shall feel inclined to give it up."
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 91 
 
 " Nonsense. Let us explore the place thoroughly." 
 
 Blueskin set off again, and after going about six steps 
 lower, he found he reached the bottom of the steps. 
 
 They both laughed at this. 
 
 The steps terminated in a kind of vaulted chamber,, 
 ootagonal in shape, and only just high enough to stand 
 upright in. *• 
 
 From this there branched off no less than seven pas- 
 sages. 
 
 " Why, this is like a rabbit- warren. Jack, it will take 
 too long for us to explore such a place as this." 
 
 " I am afraid so, but we will not go just yet." 
 
 They both advanced into the centre of the octagonal 
 apartment, and looked about them. 
 
 The entrances to the subterraneous passages were all 
 just alike, or so nearly so, that they could detect no 
 difference. 
 
 There was nothing to choose between any of them so 
 far as that went. 
 
 " Let us go down this one," said Jack, pointing to the 
 opening just opposite him. 
 
 " A little way, but I don't think it will be much use, for 
 from the look of the place I should say it was used for 
 me burial of the dead." 
 
 " Oh ! who knows ? Come on." 
 
 " Not without some precautions, Jack ; I have heard 
 a great deal about such places as these, and how heedless 
 persons have entered and never found their way out." 
 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 " It is quite true ; they are all made just alike every- 
 where, so that by the time you have made one or two 
 turnings you cannot tell in what direction you are actually 
 going." 
 
 " What shall we do then ? " 
 
 " There is a means," said Blueskin, " if you still wish 
 to enter and explore them. You must get me a piece of* 
 mortar somewhere out of the wall." 
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 RELATES THE STRANGE THINGS WHICH WERE SEEN IN 
 THE SUBTERRANEOUS PASSAGES BENEATH THE NORTH 
 TURRET. 
 
 "A piece of mortar?" repeated Jack, "what in the 
 world for ? " 
 
 " Get it, and I will show you." 
 
 Jack had very little difficulty in picking a tolerable - 
 sized piece of mortar from between the interstices of*the 
 stones. It was sticky and soft, but it was all the better 
 for that. 
 
 " You take the light," said Blueskin, as Jack handed 
 him the lump of mortar, " and lead the way." 
 
 About half-a-dozen steps inside the passage he called to 
 him to stop. 
 
 " Hold the light down, so that I can see the floor." 
 
 Jack did so, full of curiosity to know what it was his 
 companion purposed doing. 
 
 He soon comprehended, and was delighted with it. 
 
 The floor of the passage was of hard, dry earth, and on 
 this, using the piece of mortar as a substitute for chalk, 
 Blueskin drew an arrow, with the point turned towards 
 the stairs — that is, in the contrary direction to that in 
 which they were proceeding. 
 
 " Capital," said Jack. 
 
 " It is a good device, and one that is often practised. 
 At every dozen yards or so, I shall draw one of these 
 arrows, so that we shall have no difficulty in returning, 
 or, at any rate, no hesitation as to which is our right 
 course." 
 
 " I see. Come on." 
 
 The passage, as Blueskin had anticipated, was uni- 
 formly the same in its general appearance. It wound 
 about in a serpentine fashion, and occasionally they came 
 to where other passages either branched off or led into 
 it. Whenever this occurred he was particularly capful 
 with the arrows. 
 
 " I do not wonder at people losing themselves in such 
 I a place," said Jack, as they emerged into a chamber 
 J resembling the one they had just left. " If I did not 
 I know it was impossible, I should say this was the spot 
 | we started from. Look, there are six openings, and the 
 j one we have just come out of makes the seventh. Here, 
 I too, is a door, with steps beyond it." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" / 
 
 H 
 
 " Why do you laugh ? " 
 
 " At you, to be sure, for supposing this chamber to be 
 one resembling that we have just left. Why, it's the 
 same." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " One would think so. I should have been of that 
 opinion, but we can easily convince ourselves. Look, 
 here is the passage we have just come out of." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, I will draw an arrow. Now, there it is. If it 
 is not the same chamber as the one we left, we shan't find 
 the arrow on the floor. We can't mistake one for the 
 other, because this is at the very beginning of the 
 passage." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 "And the other is about half-a-dozen steps in, 13 it 
 not ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " Vei - y well, we will take them in succession, and rely 
 upou it we shall soon find it." 
 
 Jacji could not bring himself to believe that his comrade 
 was right. He did not think it possible that they could 
 have taken such a circuitous course as to come out at the 
 spot from which they started. 
 
 Such though, extraordinary as it seemed, proved to be 
 the case. Just inside the third turning to the left of the 
 one from which they had emerged was the one they had 
 entered such a short time before. The arrow which 
 Blueskin had drawn dissipated all doubt. 
 
 He very much enjoyed Jack's astonishment, and he 
 said — 
 
 " I have often read ojL>such things as this, and so 
 the result was to some extent expected by me, but it 
 will serve to convince you of the necessity of taking 
 the precaution I did, in order to find our way out again." 
 
 " It is wonderful," replied Jack. " I can new scarcely 
 realize it." 
 
 " I can understand that, and now let us try another. 
 From what has happened, I feel almost sure that there is 
 here some secret mode of exit. If we can find it the 
 advantages will be more than we can correctly estimate, 
 for not only may it prove of service to us, in case we should 
 have to escape, but also as a mode of entrance, for if I 
 mistake not we shall find the outlet at some considerable 
 distance from the ruins themselves." 
 
 " I am ready, then," said Jack, " and I only hope your 
 supposition may be confirmed." 
 
 As he spoke these words, he followed his companion 
 down another of the passages. 
 
 The resemblance that was preserved was really wonder- 
 ful. This passage was the exact counterpart of the others. 
 
 For a long time they went on and on, until at last Jack 
 began to think there was no termination. 
 
 Blueskin led the way. 
 
 Suddenly he trod upon some treacherous substance, 
 which crunched beneath his feet, and, before he could 
 recover himself, he fell at full length on the ground. 
 
 The lamp flew from his grasp, rolled for a foot along 
 the floor of the passage, and then disappeared. 
 
 In an instant all was utter darkness. 
 
 Jack Sheppard uttered a loud cry of astonishment and 
 alarm, which sounded dismally in the cavernous place. 
 
 " All right ! " said Blueskin, scrambling to his feet. 
 " Stand still, Jack. Confound it ; but it is no more than 
 I deserved. I ought to have been more cautious." 
 
 " But the lantern," cried Jack ; " what has become of 
 it ? This darkness is awful." 
 
 " The fall doubtless put it out. Be careful not to move. 
 We shall find it. That's better." 
 
 Blueskin took a match from his pocket and ignited it. 
 
 There was for a moment a bright flash of light, and he 
 held it low down on the ground. 
 
 The first thing that met his gaze was the substance 
 which had caused his fall. 
 
 " Good heavens, Jack ! " he cried, " this is a skeleton." 
 
 " A skeleton ? " 
 
 " Yes ; all but crumbled to dust. It was treading on it 
 that threw me down." 
 
 " Can you see the lantern ?" 
 
 " No. I will crawl forward a little way." 
 
 He went down on his hands and knees. 
 
 In his right hand he held the match, which, being com- 
 posed of some ceraceous substance, burned for gome few 
 moments. 

 
 92 
 
 BUTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 His left hand he used to feel the way. 
 All at once he found the ground give way beneath his 
 hand. 
 
 A rushing noise as of earth falling down a well fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Then the match went out. 
 
 He could uot restrain a groan, and the perspiration of 
 intense fear broke out over him. 
 
 His left hand grasped nothing but vacancy. 
 The horrible truth flashed in a moment through his 
 brain. 
 
 " What is the matter, Blake ? " asked Jack. " Speak. 
 Are you hurt ? " 
 
 " No, thank God ! Do not stir hand or foot for the 
 world." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Stop, and I will get a light." 
 
 Trembling in every limb, Blueskin assumed a sitting 
 posture. 
 
 He drew forth from his pocket the box of matches. 
 But his hand shook to such an excess that he could 
 hardly light one. 
 At last he did so. 
 
 The tiny flame fell full upon his face. 
 Jack was astounded at its ashy paleness. 
 " Speak, Blake," he said. " What has happened ? 
 You look frightened to death." 
 
 " And well I might. Hold the match a moment for 
 me. I have in my pocket some pieces of candle wlrioh 
 are used to burn in the lantern. I will light one of 
 them, and then we shall be better able to see what we are 
 about." 
 
 This was quickly done. 
 
 Of course the light it gave now was nothing near so 
 bright as it was when in the lantern, but still they were 
 able to see tolerably well with it. 
 
 Blueskin rose to his feet, and grasped the smooth wall 
 of the passage for support. 
 
 He could not control his agitation. 
 
 " You are not so frightened at a skeleton, are you ? " 
 asked Jack. 
 
 " No," he replied in a hollow voice. " It was the 
 narrow and miraculous escape I have just had from a 
 frightful death." 
 
 A frightful death ? " repeated Jack. 
 " Yes. Come forward carefully, and I will show you." 
 The piece of wax-candle had now fairly caught light, 
 and burned freely. 
 
 Blueskin held out his hand as far as he could before 
 him, and took two steps forward. 
 Jack followed. 
 
 " Stop ! " he cried. " Look there." 
 Jack strained his eyes, but saw nothing. 
 " Look where ? " he asked. 
 " Ou the ground before you." 
 
 Jack Sheppard glauced down near his feet, and then, to 
 his horror, found he was standing upon the verge of an 
 abyss. 
 
 The first shock over, he proceeded to look more carefully 
 about him. 
 
 The disappearance of the lantern was at once accounted 
 for. 
 
 The floor of the passage abruptly terminated at the 
 brink of a pit. 
 
 Of its extent forwards he could form no idea, but it 
 reached from one wall to the other. 
 
 It was now Jack's turn to feel sick at heart, as the im- 
 mensity of the peril from which he had escaped became 
 palpable to him. 
 
 He turned to his comrade. 
 " What does this mean ? " he asked. 
 " You may well ask that, and be thankful for the acci- 
 dental circumstance which was the means of preventing 
 our falling down that frightful place." 
 " I am thankful." 
 
 " But for the presence of that skeleton, and my acci- 
 dental fall over it, our doom would have been sealed. 
 Nothing could have saved us." 
 " Nothing, I fear." 
 
 " The perils of this place are even greater than I 
 thought they were. 1 have heard before now of such 
 places contrived by the subtle spirits of the monks. This 
 pit has evidently been contrived as a trap to destroy those 
 who wandered in this place unpossessed of its eecrets." 
 
 " It is awful." 
 
 " Who this poor wretch is we shall, I suppose, never 
 know, nor how it was he perished where he did. Little 
 did he think that his crumbling remains would, perhaps 
 a hundred years after his decease, be the means of pre- 
 serving two human lives." 
 
 " Let us retrace our steps," said Jack, " with all the 
 caution possible. We will no longer tempt our fate. 
 Come ! " 
 
 " In a moment. Where we are we have nothing to fear. 
 The danger of this place consisted in the fact of the 
 existence of the pit being unknown. Once aware of it, 
 the peril ceases." 
 
 CHAPTER LXII. 
 
 SHOWS HOW THE REMAINDER OF THE DAY WAS SPENT 
 AMONG THE OLD ABBEY RUINS. 
 
 " I don't pretend to gainsay that," replied Jack, " but the 
 sooner we get back again I think the better." 
 
 " So do I. Your nerves, like mine, are unstrung. I 
 confess I never in my life experienced so terrible a sensa- 
 tion as I did when I found the earth give way, and my 
 hand slip into the pit." 
 
 " I don't wonder -at it." 
 
 " I am vexed the lantern has gone, we should then have 
 been able to make a better examination of the place. I 
 should be loath to leave it now until I have satisfied my 
 curiosity. Lie down and crawl forward, and I will hold 
 the light. We then shall be able to see a little more, I 
 hope." 
 
 Curiosity was a strong feeling in Jack's breast, and now, 
 as he recovered from his shock, he was quite willing to 
 examine the place. 
 
 By adopting the means proposed there was little fear cf 
 falling over. 
 
 They crawled forward until their heads and necks hung 
 fairly over the edge of the pit, if such it were. 
 
 But, although Blueskin held the little piece of wax 
 candle down to the full extent of his arm, they could see 
 nothing more than the side upon which they were. 
 
 This was composed of dark, shiny rock, and went down 
 perpendicularly. They could not, however, see anything 
 like the bottom. 
 
 Jack felt about him for a stone, which would enable him 
 taform some estimate of its depth, by the time it took to 
 fall. 
 
 He soon found one. 
 
 It was a piece of rock, about two pounds in weight. 
 
 Blueskin saw what he was about, and said — 
 
 " Throw it forwards, and we shall have an idea of its 
 diameter." 
 
 " That is what I was going to do," replied Jack, as he 
 let go the piece of rock. 
 
 It disappeared ins' 'atly in the gloom, and then directly 
 afterwards they heard it strike against the rock on the 
 opposite side. 
 
 Having struck, it glanced off, and then continued to 
 rebound from side to side until the motion grew so rapid 
 that they were unable to count the strokes. 
 
 A faint splash followed. 
 
 Then all was still. 
 
 " A frightful depth," said Jack, with a shudder. 
 " Come away. We can know no more, now." 
 
 " We cannot. Jack, my friend, our death would have 
 been certain if we had fallen down that pla.ee." 
 
 " I shudder when I thiuk of our narrow escape. Let 
 it be a lesson to us to be careful. Oh ! if we had fallen, 
 what would have become of Bess ? " 
 
 " Do not unman yourself by speculating upon that. We 
 are saved, but by little short of a miracle. ' 
 
 They both rose as Blake thus spoke. 
 
 " Have you another piece of candle ? " asked Jack. " If 
 you have, light it, and let me carry it. We shall then see 
 better where we are going." 
 
 " Yes, I have several pieces. I always take care to 
 supply myself well with them, in case of accidents or 
 circumstances occurring to make it impossible to get them 
 just at the moment they are required." 
 
 " It is a wise precaution," said Jack. " In future 1 
 shall take care always to adopt it." 
 
 " You should never, under any circumstances, be without 
 having the means about 3'ou of readily procuring a light. 
 Think what our position would have been if I had onty
 
 provided myself with one piece of candle. We should have 
 been starved to death in these passages, for to have cot 
 out in the dark would be utterly impossible." 
 
 " You reconcile me to our position," replied Sheppard, 
 " by showing me how much worse it might easily have 
 been. I shall never forget this." 
 
 " Nor I. But before we go, let us look more atten- 
 tively at the poor remains, which, by throwing me down, 
 saved my life and yours." 
 
 Only a few bones were on the floor of the passage, 
 and they were in the last stage of decay. The least touch, 
 and they would have crumbled into dust. 
 
 There was nothing to indioate tbe age, sex, or position 
 in life of this skeleton ; and having convinced themselves 
 of this, they made their way along the passage towards the 
 octagonal-shaped room. 
 
 How pleasant it was now, by an occasional inspection of 
 tbe arrows Blake had drawn, to feel sure that they were 
 pursuing the right direction, and not involving themselves 
 in the mazy intricacies of the place. 
 
 Both drew a long breath of exquisite relief when they, 
 after a little while, emerged into the octagonal chamber, 
 from one side of which ascended the steps leading to the 
 turret. 
 
 " Thank goodness ! " said Blueskin, " we are safe at 
 last. It is by no means the first time in my life that 1 
 have had a narrow escape from death, but still it was 
 always in some encounter. 1 fairly tremble now when I 
 think we might both have walked into the abyss, and only 
 become conscious of having done so when we found our- 
 selves falling headlong down." 
 
 " Such a death would be awful indeed. But the peril is 
 over now. Let us ascend. I feel no desire to run any 
 further risk by an exploration of this place." 
 
 " Nor do I. Besides which, we have been quite long 
 enough absent from the tuiTet-stairs. We ought to assure 
 ourselves that all is well with our young charge." 
 
 " You do not fear anything ? " 
 
 " By no means; but that is no reason why we should 
 leave her unguarded." 
 
 " No, no ; we have been wrong, I think, to absent our- 
 selves at all." 
 
 As he made this remark, Jack sprung up the winding 
 flight of steps, and soon reached the level of the earth. 
 
 Blueskin was immediately behind him, and, as he 
 emerged from the vaults, he shut the little door after him 
 as lie said — 
 
 " I don't think I shall be tempted to venture down there 
 again." 
 
 " I am sure I shall not, and yet it would have been a 
 great satisfaction if we could have found some secret mode 
 of entering and leaving the place." 
 
 " You are right ; but we must abandon the idea, at all 
 events in that quarter. I think, too, that we may rest 
 pretty well assured that we have nothing to fear in the 
 shape of attack. Few people would visit this place, and 
 none less likely than Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "All seems right," said Jack, after a pause, during 
 which he had listened intently at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Yes, if silence is to be taken as a token of it. Let 
 us go up. Bess must, by this time, have had sufficient 
 rest." 
 
 Jack did not need to be told this twice, and he mounted 
 with an agility and speed that soon left Blueskin in the 
 rear. 
 
 On reaching the door he tapped gently at it, and 
 said, — 
 
 " Bess— Bess ! U all well ? " 
 
 Jack heard a hasty movement, and then the door was 
 opened. 
 
 " Oh ! Jack ! " said the young girl, " I am so glad you 
 have come. I have sat here until I have grown quite 
 frightened. I came to the door once, and called, but I 
 could not make you hear." 
 
 By the time this little dialogue was finished, Blueskin 
 entered the turret-chamber. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had suffered the fire to go out, and, as 
 the evening was now creeping on, Blake thought the best 
 plan would be to light it again. 
 
 This he soon did, and by the time it was fairly dusfi:, 
 they were all three seated in pretty near the same posi- 
 tions as on the preceding night. 
 
 Bess was refreshed by a long, deep sleep she had had, 
 p-lbeit her couch was by no means of the softest ; but then, 
 
 when one is thoroughly weary, that is but a slight incon- 
 venience. 
 
 As for her wound, it was now quite well. There was 
 an ugly mark reaching across the back part of her 
 shoulder, but she was quite willing to put up with that, 
 when she thought of what a narrow escape she had had ©f 
 being dangerously wounded, perhaps even killed. 
 
 The conversation, as on the preceding night, very 
 quickly turned upon her fortunes, and Blake was called 
 upon to furnish yet some additional particulars, but as 
 they were upon trivial matters it is not wortk while to 
 repeat them here. 
 
 However, from the narrations of all three a very good 
 and distinct idea of her whole position could be obtained. 
 
 There was one point, however, that would be rather 
 difficult, and that was proving her identity. It was all 
 very well for such facts to be asserted, but then something 
 more was needed, and that was proofs. 
 
 These it seemed pretty certain rested in the hands of the 
 unscrupulous Lord Donmull, who would, of course, take 
 every care not to do or say anything inimical to his own 
 interests and friendly to hers. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin, too, were so placed as to make it 
 almost a matter of impossibility for them to give evidence, 
 besides which, Jack could only say that he overheard a 
 conversation, which would amount to little or nothing. 
 
 The people, too, who lived in Charles-street, Drury- 
 lane, into whose charge the heiress had been given, were 
 dead, as was also the man who had so placed her. 
 
 In fact, the more they considered and thought over the 
 case, the more difficulties and obstacles presented them- 
 selves to their view. Bess herself was quite dismayed, 
 and Blueskin would never have persevered had it not been 
 from a strict sense of duty. 
 
 Many and various were the plans proposed during their 
 long and important conference, but every one of them, 
 after mature consideration, were abandoned as impracti- 
 cable. 
 
 And now, suddenly, as Jack was making some remark, 
 he paused. 
 
 He fancied a slight sound reached his ears from the 
 direction of the staircase. 
 
 He listened, but as all now was silent, he concluded that 
 his sense of hearing had deceived him, and went on with 
 the sentence he had begun. 
 
 But before he reached its end, they saw most positive 
 proof that some one was on the staircase. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack sprang to their feet, and drew their 
 swords. 
 
 But before they could perform another movement, the 
 little door leading into the turret chamber was burst 
 violently open, and a party of men rushe d in. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIII. 
 
 LORD DONMULL AND STEGGS ARE BENT UPON THE 
 YOUNG GTRL'S DESTRUCTION. 
 
 At the precise period of time at which the incidents 
 recorded in the last chapter took place, there sat in a 
 gorgeously-furnished apartment in a west-end mansion a 
 well-dressed man. 
 
 Without the air was chill, but within that chamber it 
 was of an agreeable warmth. 
 
 In the polished grate burned a sea -coal fire, and as its 
 flickering light fell upon the fire-irons and thick crimson 
 hearthrug, it produced an appearance of extreme com- 
 fort. 
 
 The room was furnished consistently throughout ; that 
 is to say, the different articles in it harmoniz^ in their 
 appearance and colour. -, 
 
 That colour was the richest of all — crimson. 
 
 Some would have said the effect produced was ratner 
 monotonous than otherwise, but that could be merely a 
 matter of opinion. 
 
 A rich, downy, velvet-like paper of the brightest crim- 
 son covered the walls. It was relieved in places by gilt 
 devices, while a neat gilt cornice running completely 
 round the walls at their junction with the ceiling, pre- 
 sented not only a pleasing contrast, but also gave an air 
 of great magnificence to the whole. 
 
 The chamber itself was spacious, but it lacked height, 
 which was a great detraction ; at any rate, it would be 
 considered so to-day, though then they were considered 
 "the thing."
 
 94 
 
 bltteskin: a komance. 
 
 Very rich crimson curtains, with bullion fringes, and 
 cords and tassels of the same material, were drawn before 
 the two latticed casements. 
 
 The antique sofa and the massive high-backed chairs 
 were made of rosewood, and cushioned with crimson 
 velvet. 
 
 A cloth of some similar material covered the large 
 table in the centre. 
 
 From the ceiling, which was of carved rosewood, de- 
 pended a chandelier, carrying a large number of wax 
 candles. 
 
 Each of these was enveloped in a kind of glass sheath, 
 faintly dyed with crimson, so that the light itself, which 
 was diffused, was of a rosy character. 
 
 The effect of this harmoniousness was rich beyond all 
 expression, but chiefly of all was it suggestive of comfort 
 and enjoyment. 
 
 But, strange to say, the inmate of this chamber pos- 
 sessed neither of those blessings. 
 
 As he leans back in the large comfortable arm-chair, a 
 look of great care and uneasiness of mind is apparent in 
 his countenance. 
 
 The soft, mellow light with which the place is filled 
 prevents the ghastly pallor of his countenance becoming 
 apparent. It has now the hues of health, or rather seems 
 to have them. 
 
 Evidences of wealth were visible about his person ; for 
 a hundred years ago the differences of station were more 
 marked than they are now. 
 
 His attire was of the costliest material. 
 
 As he is seated there in deep and anxious thought, 
 one hand plays nervously with the arm of the chair. 
 
 It is a long, thin hand, and on two of its fingers glitter 
 rings of great worth and lustre. 
 
 But, as we have said, with everything around him con- 
 ducing to happiness and repose, with everything cal- 
 culated to soothe the feelings, yet there he sat troubled, 
 agitated ; the only thing in the magnificent apartment 
 that was out of keeping with the rest. 
 
 No one to have looked at him, environed by luxury as 
 he was, would have envied him. 
 
 The age of this man we have taken such especial pains 
 to introduce to the reader was verging upon fifty, but, in 
 the open street, he looked ten years older at least. 
 
 His lips moved slightly, as though his thoughts were so 
 intense that he was all but compelled to give them verbal 
 utterance. 
 
 Then he suddenly sprang to his feet, and walked up and 
 down the room with rapid tread. 
 
 Upon the soft carpet his feet made not the slightest 
 sound. 
 
 Between the two windows was a massive sideboard. 
 
 Ranged upon it with marvellous taste were many pieces 
 of gold and silver. 
 
 In the centre was a stand for wines and spirits. 
 
 It was before this that the man paused, after having 
 taken some thirty or forty turns up and down the room. 
 
 He took up a crystal goblet that would contain almost a 
 pint of liquid, and filled it with brandy. 
 
 A few bright beads clustered round the edge. 
 
 He held it up to the light. 
 
 His hand was trembling and unsteady. 
 
 Then he drank the greater portion of the fiery spirit at 
 a draught, and resumed his hurried walk. 
 
 Unconsciously he gave utterance to the thoughts that 
 weighed so heavily upon his brain. 
 
 " How will it end ? " he said. " How will it end ? To 
 think that after living all this time in such a state of per- 
 fect security as I have, that obstacles and cares and per- 
 1 1.: sities should arise now ! All, too, through the bungling 
 agent I employed to do my work. Had he performed his part 
 of the contract as I performed mine, all would have been 
 well, I should have nothing to fear. Now, what shall I 
 do ? what shall I do ? " 
 
 He flung himself down in the chair as he spoke. 
 
 The words he had uttered will enable the reader to 
 recognise him. 
 
 Lord Abel Donmull. 
 
 Yes ; that is the man. 
 
 The unnatural brother. 
 
 The usurper of his niece's wealth and broad domains. 
 
 The man of bad, bold heart, and many crimes. 
 
 Vainly did he strive to conceal from himself the fact 
 
 that a day must some time come when his deeds would be 
 visited with a just retribution. 
 
 Like most bad men, he was a coward at heart. 
 
 No emotion of pity could possibly be shown for him. 
 
 He was surrounded with parasites, with menials, with 
 tools, by which he wrought his evil purposes, but among 
 them all there was not one heart who, in the hour of 
 tribulation, would have said, " God bless him ! " 
 
 But he clung to wealth at first because of the natural 
 cupidity of his soul ; now, because it had grown into a 
 kind of second nature to be surrounded by it. 
 
 To obtain it had he not stained his hands with crime ? 
 Was it likely, then, that he would relinquish it ? 
 
 It is ever the curse or fate of such men as Lord Don- 
 mull to find at their fingers' ends a spirit to tempt them 
 still further into evil. 
 
 That evil spirit was the man Steggs. 
 
 Who he was Lord Donmull knew not. He had come to 
 him with the death-bed confession of the man Williams, 
 and from that moment they had been hourly companions, 
 actuated apparently by the same motives, working to the 
 same end. 
 
 Whether they were or not remains to be seen. 
 
 And now, on this particular evening, as he sits in the 
 large arm-chair, a sharp knock at the door reached his 
 ears ; but, before he could recover himself sufficiently to 
 cry " Come in," the door was opened, and Steggs glided 
 in like an apparition. 
 
 There was a great show of respectful submission in the 
 way in which he stood just upon the edge of the hearth- 
 rug. 
 
 " Sit down, Steggs," said his lordship, " sit down. 
 What is the news ?" 
 
 " There is none, my lord." 
 
 " None ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " Have all your efforts been unsuccessful ? " 
 
 " All, my lord ! I have searched in every direction. 
 I have employed men to scour the whole of the country 
 round London in search of her, but to no purpose." 
 
 Lord Donmull let his head fall between his bands. 
 
 " Don't give up, my lord ; all is not lost yet. I have 
 faith still in Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "I tremble at his name," was the reply, "and if he 
 knew the real facts of the case I should consider myself 
 lost indeed." 
 
 " But he does not ! the lad Sheppard and he are deadly 
 enemies." 
 
 Again did Lord Donmull spring in an agitated manner 
 to his feet. 
 
 " I shall go mad if this continues," he said ; " I can 
 feel now such wild confusion in my brain that I am 
 scarcely conscious of my actions." 
 
 " Try some brandy, my lord," replied Steggs ; " it is a 
 sovereign remedy in cases of that sort." 
 
 I will follow your advice," he replied, as he gulped 
 down the remainder of the spirit in the gobiet. 
 
 " You are better ?" 
 
 " I — I think I am." 
 
 " I am sure of it, my lord. Sit down and calm your- 
 self, we will talk matters over quietly." 
 
 " Quietly ! " 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " There is too much at stake. But what did you say 
 about Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " That I had faith in him." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because when he says a thing, however impossible it 
 may appear, he always keeps Ms word." 
 
 " And he promised to put — put — Elizabeth in our 
 possession." 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " But when he does, Steggs — supposing he does — what 
 must be done ? " 
 
 " That will be for your lordship to decide. Two courses 
 will be open to you ; but, if I might advise, I should say 
 wait till then." 
 
 " And when did you see Jonathan Wild last ? " 
 
 " When we visited his house together." 
 
 " Not since ? " 
 
 "No, I have been to Newgate-street many times, but 
 without being able to sec him." 
 
 "This frightful suspense will kill me, if it lasts much 
 longer," cried his lordship. " I am like one walking
 
 BLUKESIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 95 
 
 upon the crater of a volcano, expecting every moment an 
 eruption." 
 
 "TTour nerves are out of order. Once let Jonathan 
 place the girl in my hands, and I will answer for it, 
 that you have no further trouble with that affair." 
 
 " Do so, Steggs," said Lord Donmull, as he clasped his 
 rascally accomplice by the hand. " Do that, and you may 
 name your own reward ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS IN A VERY BAD WAY INDEED. 
 
 The four men Levee had left to attend to Jonathan Wild, 
 while he with the rest galloped off after the fugitives, held 
 a brief consultation as to what they had better do. 
 
 One after another they examined the prostrate body of 
 the great thief-taker. 
 
 He was to all appearance dead. 
 
 Very little blood, though, could be seen upon the 
 road. 
 
 There was an ugly wound in the upper part of his jaw, 
 but whether sufficient to cause death was rather a de- 
 batable matter. 
 
 The subject under dispute was not so much whether 
 Jonathan was dead or whether they should obey Levee's 
 orders and take him to Little Newgate, but ratber in 
 what way he should be conveyed there. 
 
 It seemed pretty conclusive that one of the four would 
 have to surrender his horse, for Jonathan's steed, when it 
 reared and threw him, dashed off along the road toward 
 London before any one could stop him. 
 
 Now they were all equally disinclined to do this, but as 
 there appeared to be no prospect, of settling the dispute 
 by other means they agreed to draw lots. 
 
 The job fell upon one of the men named Matthew 
 Flood, as ferocious a villain, perhaps, as ever graced the 
 gallows at Tyburn, which interesting event occurred in a 
 little more than a twelvemonth after these events. 
 
 This Matthew Flood, then, upon finding that the lot 
 fell upon him, uttered some very diabolical and awful 
 curses, which it is by no means our intention to repeat. 
 
 However, he had to submit. 
 
 Jonathan's body was lifted rather roughly on to the 
 back of this horse. 
 
 Not one of these four men had been without suffering 
 some brutality or other at his hands, and now that he 
 was in such a condition as to make it impossible for him 
 to defend himself, they paid off some of the grudges they 
 had against him. 
 
 To be sure it was very cowardly of them, but then what 
 could be expected from such base spirits ? 
 
 In a Mazeppa-like fashion Jonathan was placed upon the 
 back of the horse, and bound to it, partly with the 
 men's belts, and partly with the rope they always carried 
 about them. 
 
 The chief part of this tying business came to Flood's 
 share, and the way in which he knocked Wild about was 
 really awful to behold. 
 
 At length all was ready, and the strange cavalcade set 
 out on their return to London. 
 
 Matthew Flood walked by the side of the horse. 
 
 The thief-taker gave no signs of life. 
 
 In this way, then, they some hours after arrived at the 
 door of Wild's house in Newgate-street. 
 
 Flood had not walked the whole of the distance, but 
 induced his companions to share that duty with him. 
 
 St. Sepulchre's church chimed hall-past two as one of 
 the men hammered loudly at the door. 
 
 The man on the lock allowed them to enter. 
 
 Still exhibiting no sign of returning consciousness, 
 Wild was carried upstairs, and put into a bed-room on the 
 second-floor, which he, whenever he slept on a bed, used 
 as a sleeping-chamber. 
 
 One of the four men had started off for Ebenezer 
 Snoxall, to whom the reader has been introduced already. 
 
 He was not very pleased to be aroused from his slumbers 
 at that unreasonable hour, but when he was made the 
 recipient of the very startling intelligence that the great 
 Jonathan was dead, he hurried on his clothes without 
 another word, and was out in the street in a trice. 
 
 On reaching Jonathan's bed-side he made a long and 
 careful examination of him, and the nature of the hurts 
 he had received. 
 { Then he shook hia head. 
 
 " How do you bring it in ? " asked Flood. 
 
 "Ha! I— a— rea " 
 
 " Where is he f " cried a rather thick voice at this 
 moment, and a female of huge proportions rushed into 
 the room. " Where is the lamb ? Oh ! oh ! " 
 
 The large female flung herself upon the bed, and began 
 howling at a great rate. 
 
 " Oh ! my poor lamb," she said, " my poor lamb. Have 
 they murdered you at last ? Oh ! I'm a lone widder 
 new ! " 
 
 These last words will at once have the effect of inform- 
 ing the reader of the kind of relationship that was sup- 
 posed to subsist between her and Jonathan. 
 
 Yes ; she was the great thief-taker's wife. 
 
 She would have doubtless earlier than this made the 
 acquaintance of the reader, but the fact is, about a month 
 before this narrative commenced, a rather serious quarrel 
 had taken place between Wild and his spouse, which ter- 
 minated by her being kicked into the street by her lord 
 and master, and being strictly forbidden ever to cross his 
 threshold again. 
 
 This injunction she had obeyed until this particular 
 evening, when, having imbibed sufficient cordial compounds 
 to raise her courage, make her forgiveful, and rather 
 amorous, she very boldly and in despite of ail opposition, 
 forced her way in. 
 
 Upon being told Jonathan was out, and having satisfied 
 herself by searching the place that such was really the 
 case, she sat down in the thief-taker's own sanctum, and 
 announced, with many expressive yet not elegant flowers 
 of speech, her intention to wait there until the "dear 
 lamb" came home. 
 
 There was something exceedingly droll about the idea 
 of a remorseless villain bike Jonathan being called a 
 lamb ! 
 
 Most certainly there was nothing lamb-like in his dis- 
 position, except in comparison with hers. 
 
 A man who is thus spoken of by his biographer : — 
 
 " The name and memory of Jonathan Wild will be ever 
 
 held in abhorrence The single history of the arts, 
 
 deception; cruelty, perfidy, and crimes of this man filled a 
 volume, and should we occupy more room in our epitome 
 than may be deemed necessary, we have only v.o observe, 
 that scarcely would the ivhole catalogue of other crimes 
 exposed in our chronology, centred in one man, produce 
 a, parallel with this complete thief-taker and finished 
 thief." 
 
 But bad as he may have been, yet it seems to be on all 
 hands conceded that this woman, whom the above-quoted 
 historian describes as being well known " as one of the 
 most notorious pickpockets and abandoned prostitutes on 
 the town," was a very great deal worse, and the fact that 
 she made him what he was, and first led him into crime, 
 is pretty well established. 
 
 Such was the woman, then, who pretended to be so 
 overcome with grief at Jonathan's decease. 
 
 They were a precious pair. 
 
 In vain did Mr. Snoxall entreat the lady to remove from 
 her position, and allow him to ascertain whether he was 
 really dead. She answered him only with renewed howls, 
 which so disgusted Flood that he left the room at once. 
 
 The idea of attempting to remove her by main force 
 never found a place in the apothecary's mind for a moment ; 
 he had too much dread of her fistic powers. 
 
 But a result ensued which was jather unexpected. 
 
 Jonathan was not dead ! 
 
 No, despite the really dangerous wound, and all the 
 harsh treatment he had endured at the hands of his own 
 men, life was not extinct. 
 
 The caresses of Mary Milliner, for such was the name of 
 the woman who passed as his wife, aroused him. 
 
 Only partially though did he regain his faculties, and 
 the consequence was he fell into a very natural mistake. 
 
 Feeling some one above him he made sure it was an 
 enemy, a foe making an attack upon his life. 
 
 Without, then, waiting to see who it was — as for the 
 correctness of his supposition, he had no doubt whatever 
 about that — he uttered a terrible roar which would ha re 
 befitted some wild and ferocious denizen of the wilder- 
 ness, and springing up, he clutched the unfortunate woman 
 round the neck with a grip like that of an iron vice. 
 
 So suddenly was the pressure applied, that she had no 
 time to utter a cry for help.
 
 96 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 The only witness was Snoxall, the apotheoary, and he 
 was speechless and aghast. 
 
 A struggle of a very terrible nature now took place be- 
 tween Jonathan and his spouse, which, as a probable 
 enough result, terminated in the pair rolling together off 
 the bed. r . 
 
 The crash was so tresnendous that the whole house was 
 shaken, and in another moment there was a hurried 
 trampling of feet, and a body of the gang rushed in. 
 
 They saw what was amiss at once, but dared not inter- 
 fere. 
 
 Their presence, though, aroused Wild from his insane 
 fury, and he looked about him. 
 
 His eye fell upon his assailant. 
 
 Then he uttered a yell, caused in part by seeing who 
 it was, and in part because his hurts just then began to 
 make themselves felt. 
 
 With an effort of strength he freed himself from his 
 companion, and scrambled to his feet. 
 
 Then dealing her a heavy kick, he prostrated her upon 
 the floor. 
 
 " What is all this, eh ? " gasped Wild, as he clutched 
 the bedpost with both hands for support. " What is all 
 this, I say ? Speak ! Are you all deaf?" 
 
 " If you please, Mr. Wild " 
 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 Mr. Snoxall came forward, and then another accession 
 of pain in the lower part of his face forced itself to Wild's 
 notice. 
 
 He began to comprehend. 
 
 " Lie down on the bed, my good sir, and let me attend 
 to your wound. You will soon be better." 
 
 Jonathan complied silently, but only because such a 
 frightful sensation of pain and weakness came over him, 
 that be found it impossible to stand up any longer. 
 
 CHAPTER LXV. 
 
 MARY MI1UNER, JONATHAN'S PRESUMPTIVE WIFE S COMES 
 IN FOR A SHARE OF HIS BRUTALITY. 
 
 B ut although the thief-taker fell backwards on the bed in 
 the manner recorded in the last chapter, yet he did not 
 again lose his consciousness. 
 
 It seems incredible that any human being- could have 
 borne up against such frightful injuries as AVild did, but 
 the fact was, not only did he possess a frame and constitu- 
 tion as hard as iron itself, but an indomitable mind to 
 correspond. 
 
 And so between the two he suffered with impunity 
 what would have been sufficient to kill any ordinary 
 mortal. To be sure he suffered some temporary incon- 
 venience, but that was all. 
 
 He controlled himself so far as to be quite still while 
 Mr. Snoxall, whose skill in the treatment of wounds was 
 very great, made an examination of his injuries. 
 
 The apothecary probed about with a disagreeable-looking 
 steel instrument, but Jonathan made not the least sign of 
 additional suffering. 
 
 He was trying to recollect what had taken place, and 
 account for his present desperate position. 
 
 By thus diverting his thoughts, he was able to bear the 
 pain with greater fortitude. 
 
 By slow degrees he remembered all that had taken 
 place up to the moment Blueskin and Jack Sheppard tired 
 at him. 
 
 After that, of course, he knew nothing, until he woke 
 up and found his discarded wife bending over him. 
 
 He had just reached so far when Mr. Snoxall spoke — 
 
 " It is a very narrow touch," he said. " I never knew 
 such a thing before in my life. However, as it is, there 
 are no bones broke, so you will soon be all right again." 
 
 Upon hearing this assurance, Wild felt better at once, 
 and he raised himself upon one arm. 
 
 "One moment, Mr. Wild, if you please," said the 
 apothecary : " let me put a bandage on it." 
 
 To this Jonathan submitted with pretty good grace, 
 but as soon as the operation was concluded he sprang to 
 his feet. 
 
 " Brandy ! " he cried ; " give me brandy ! " 
 
 " Murder ! " said Snoxall, terrified at the idea. 
 
 But Jonathan walked to a little cupboard by the side of 
 the fireplace, and brought out a black -looking bottle. 
 
 This he placed to his lips and took a long draught. 
 
 The apothecary watched him with wonder. It was by 
 no iiwans the first time he had seen Wild do such a thing, 
 but ho could not get over the surprise of it. 
 
 There was a marked difference in the tone of Wild's 
 voice as, putting down the bottle, he pronounced the one 
 word — 
 
 " Better ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan's eye fell upon the form of Mary Milliner, 
 who had just recovered from her swoon, and raised herself 
 to a sitting posture. 
 
 Although stultified with the liquor she had drank, she 
 was able to recognise her husband. 
 
 " My poor lamb," she howled, " they told me that you 
 was dead, and I was a lone woman ; but the poor lamb is 
 spared." 
 
 She got upon her feet as she spoke, and made a wild 
 drunken rush at him. 
 
 "Hold off!" cried Jonathan, as stepping aside ho 
 avoided the encounter ; " hold off, woman, or it will be all 
 the worse for you." 
 
 But blinded by drink, and unheeding what he said, she 
 turned and made another staggering rush at him. 
 
 Jonathan's face assumed a terrible expression. 
 
 He drew his sword from its sheath, and projected it 
 before him. 
 
 " Keep back ! " he said, " or you'll have this in your 
 vitals ! Keep back, I say ; do you hear me ? " 
 
 The loud tones of his voice seemed to reach her under- 
 standing, and she brushed the hair back from her face. 
 
 But the good lady was not to be so repulsed. 
 
 For the third time she attempted to clasp him in her 
 arms. 
 
 Jonathan saw her coming, and stepped back a pace. 
 
 Then holding his sword straight before him, he received 
 the wretched woman on the point of it.* 
 
 She felt the steel enter her skin, but she could not stop 
 herself, and the sharp weapon passed completely through 
 her chest and out at her back. 
 
 Uttering a loud and fearful cry of anguish, she fell back- 
 wards on the floor of the room weltering in her blood. 
 
 " Curse you ! " he said. " You would have it. Aud I 
 hope you are satisfied." 
 
 Now Mr. Snoxall, although present when this took 
 place, never made the least attempt at interference. He 
 had too much good sense to interpose his body in oonjugal 
 quarrels. 
 
 Having thus got rid of his unfortunate wife, Jonathan 
 strode down stairs. 
 
 As he reached the hall some one knocked loudly at the 
 door. 
 
 The man on the lock, who had seen Wild come down the 
 stairs, opened the door with marvellous celerity. 
 
 " How's Jonathan ? " said a voice, which that individual 
 himself recognised as belonging to Levee, so he shrank 
 still closer in the shadow of the wall in the hope of hearing 
 something. " Have they brought him in dead this time, 
 or how P " 
 
 Now, the man on the lock happened to be on friendly 
 terms with Levee, so he had all the inclination in the 
 world to put him upon his guard against saying anything 
 imprudent, by letting him know that Jonathan was in the 
 hall. 
 
 But it was quite out of the question for him to do so 
 without Wild being aware of it. 
 
 " How is the old villain ? He hasn't cheated the hang- 
 man, has he ? I hope not, for I live in hopes of seeing 
 him tucked up at Tyburn some day. So do you, Wilkinson, 
 don't you ? It would be a brave sight ! Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Wilkinson echoed his companion's laugh with a groan. 
 
 But ere Levee could remark on the subject somebody 
 else laughed. 
 
 A horrible laugh. 
 
 Discordant. 
 
 Fiendish. 
 
 A laugh which he had too often heard not to imme- 
 diately recognise. 
 
 The blood seemed to stand still in his veins, and the 
 perspiration of intense fear broke out over his whole 
 body. 
 
 * This incident is strictly true. " His accomplice and 
 reputed wife, Mary Milliner, having on some occasion pro- 
 voked him, he straightway ran her through with his sword." — 
 Life of Jonathan Wild.
 
 BLTJESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD TRIUMPHS, AND CAPTURES JACK SHEPPARD AND ENGWORTH BESS.] 
 
 " Good God ! " he gasped. " It's Jonathan ! " 
 
 "Ha! ha!" said Wild again. "Ha! ha! Levee! 
 I've cheated the hangman, you see. Ha ! ha ! but I don't 
 fancy you will much longer. Ha ! ha ! Levee ! Not 
 much longer, I know ! " 
 
 Most devoutly did the unfortunate man curse his own 
 indiscretion. Most devoutly did he wish that the earth 
 beneath his feet would at that moment yawn open, and 
 swallow him up for ever. 
 
 The remainder of the men who had accompanied 
 him in his unsuccessful chase after the three fugitives, 
 stood just on the steps of the door, huddled into a dense 
 throng, of course enjoying the scene mightily. 
 
 Now, so far as Jonathan himself was concerned, this 
 was a lucky incident, for it had the effect of restoring him 
 to his usual spirits. 
 
 But it boded no good for Mr. Levee. 
 
 "pome in, John," said Wild, for that was Levee's 
 Christian name. " Come in, John ! Don't be afraid ! It 
 
 isn't my ghost ! Ha ! ha ! I shall outlive more than ona 
 of my acquaintance ! Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Levee walked into the hall. 
 
 The remainder of the band followed. 
 
 Wilkinson closed the door. 
 
 Then, by the dismal, sickly light of an oil-lamp, which 
 was suspended from the ceiling of the hall, they saw 
 Jonathan standing near the foot of the stairs, with his 
 hand upon the balusters. 
 
 For a moment, in his jocularity, he forgot what errand 
 Levee had been upon, but when he saw the other members 
 of the band enter a remarkable change took place. 
 
 "Where are they?" he yelled. "Have you let them 
 slip through your fingers ? Villains, I will make you rae 
 this day." 
 
 " Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Well, wretch, what have you to say ?" 
 
 "When you were thrown from your horse" 
 
 " Ha ! I was thrown ? " j 
 
 No, 13.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 "You were fired at by Blueskin and Sheppard, Mr. 
 Wild, when they made the sudden dash through us." 
 
 " Go on — go on." 
 
 " Seeing you fall I dismounted, for I feared you were 
 killed." 
 
 "Feared?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild.'' 
 
 " Hoped, you mean. Go on, villain." 
 
 " 1 found you bleeding and quite insensible, so I ordered 
 Flood and three others to take you home, while I pursued 
 the fugitives." 
 
 " Well, and what then ?" 
 
 " By the time I gained the saddle they were not only 
 out of sight, but out of hearing also." 
 
 " Fool ! why did you not follow them at once ?" 
 
 " I acted as I thought for the best." 
 
 " Then you pursued and captured them." 
 
 " We pursued them, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " But we could not find the least trace of them. When 
 we assured ourselves that such undoubtedly was the fact, 
 we turned back, and here we are." 
 
 " And so Blake fired at me." 
 
 " And Sheppard too." 
 
 " Curss that devils's brat ; it is he that has brought on 
 all this mischief. But he shall swing — he shall swing. I 
 swear it ; and when I swear a thing I never fail to kepp 
 my oath. Jack and Blueskin both shall die at Tyburn. 
 Ha ! ha ! they have triumphed so far, but I bid them 
 beware, for Jonathan Wild will have his revenge — revenge 
 — rev " ■ 
 
 1 1 is voice failed. 
 
 His legs gave way beneath him. 
 
 Jonathan fell like a log on the floor of the hall. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI. 
 
 LORD DONMULL LISTENS TO JONATHAN'S INSTDIOUS 
 ADVICE. 
 
 Nature succumbed beneath Wild's terrible excitement. 
 It is wonderful that he should so soon have recovered his 
 strength as he had. It was the brandy that did it, and 
 now that its effects had evaporated, he was left weaker 
 than before. 
 
 Again were the services of Mr. Snoxall called into 
 requisition, but this time when Jonathan recovered he 
 turned over, and fell almost immediately into a deep 
 slumber. 
 
 " That's right," said the apothecary, as he poured 
 some narcotic down his throat. " Just let him sleep for 
 twelve hours, or so, and then when he awakens ten to 
 one if he is not all right." 
 
 Having thus spoken, Snoxall left the room quietly and 
 shut the door, leaving instructions that his patient was on 
 no account to be disturbed. 
 
 He then turned his attention to the woman, Mary Milli- 
 ner, whose condition was certainly much worse than 
 that of her rascally husband. 
 
 During, then, the remainder of that night, and the 
 whole of the following day, during which time the three 
 fugitives talked over their affairs, and had the strange 
 adventures we have recorded, Jonathan slept. 
 
 Slept, one would have thought, to gaze into his coun- 
 tenance, the sleep of innocence and peace, so deep and 
 dream-like did it appear. 
 
 But it was exhaustion produced that effect, for, generally 
 speaking, Wild was rather troubled with disagreeable 
 dreams. 
 
 It was just as the shadows of evening were beginning 
 to dusk the different objects in the room in which he lay, 
 when Jonathan opened his eyes. 
 
 He still felt rather faint and dizzy, and his eyes rested 
 languidly upon the familiar things by which he was 
 surrounded. 
 
 This state of things he only endured for a very short 
 space of time- for his brain began to assume its wonted 
 action. 
 
 The pain ;■" the pistol-wound in his face besa-j to make 
 itself felt. 
 
 He sprang off the bed, for he had only been lying on the 
 outside of it he found, and going to a large pitcher and 
 basin near the window, he poured some of the contents of 
 the former into ihe latter, am', plentifully bathed his head, 
 neck, and fa' ..-^rewitk. 
 
 Jonathan had great faith in the therapcri.'c oualities of 
 two agents. 
 
 One was brandy. 
 
 That was the inward application. 
 
 The other was cold water. 
 
 That was the outward one. 
 
 They were simple enough, in all conscience, and they 
 always had the effect desired. 
 
 The intensely cold water soothed the irritation of his 
 skin, and took away ihe dull oppressive feeling that was 
 about his brain. 
 
 By the time he had finished, the twilight had given 
 place to darkness, but ho was well acquainted with the 
 topography of his domicile, and he had no difficulty in find- 
 ing his way down into his room on the first floor. 
 
 He seated himself iu his accustomed chair in the 
 chimney-corner, and then rang the bell. 
 
 Tonks appeared in answer to the summons. 
 
 He trembled when he first entered, but he gathered 
 courage from the fact that he did not look so demon 
 as usual; in fact, that his face had rather a gha 
 penrnnce than otherwise. 
 
 But it was not the less hideous on thnt account. 
 
 " Did you please to ring, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Of course 1 did, idiot, or else you would not have 
 heard it. What is the time ? " 
 
 " Five-and-twentv minutes to nine, Mr. Wild, sir, if you 
 please. 
 
 " Ya — ah ! Who has been here to-day ? " 
 
 " A good many, sir, but they were all told to come to- 
 morrow, owing to your serious indisposition. There is 
 one gentleman just come." 
 
 " Who is he ?" 
 
 " He would not tell me his name, Mr. Wild, hut he told 
 me to give you this letter, and ask for a reply." 
 
 Jonathan stretched out his hand, and tore open the 
 envelope. 
 
 Inside there was nothing but a bank note for five 
 pound;;. 
 
 He turned it over, and on the back he saw the one word, 
 " Donmull." 
 
 A shade of vexation crossed Jonathan's features, and 
 crumpling up the note as though not of the least value, 
 he thrust it into his pocket. 
 
 " And the gentleman that gave you that is waiting to 
 see me, you say, Tonks, eh ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you please, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Of course I please, scoundrel ! Ask the gentleman to 
 step up, and let me advise you to be civil." 
 
 Rarely, indeed, was Wild in so temperate a mood, and 
 Tonks took care to vanish while his shoes were good, as 
 the saying is. 
 
 Two minutes afterwards he returned, and having ushered 
 his loi-dship into the apartment, withdrew with great 
 alacrity. 
 
 Steggs, of course, glided in after his employer. 
 
 Jonathan condescended to rise and motion them to a 
 seat. Then he sat down again. 
 
 There was an awkward pause. 
 
 Lord Donmull broke it by saying the one word — 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I wish it was well, my lord." 
 
 " How do you mean ? Speak. Tell us how you have 
 got on. We have come to know whether you have fulfilh d 
 your promise." 
 
 Wild scowled. 
 
 " I have as yet got more peril than profit, in the 
 business. Curse it all ! I have had them all but in my 
 power, when a shot brought me to the ground." 
 
 Jonathan pointed to his bandaged face. 
 
 "I have only just recovered," he continued, "from the 
 swoon." 
 
 " It is not very serious, I hope, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "No — no. The one that caused me this pain, though, 
 shall suffer for it with interest." 
 
 " That is well." 
 
 " But come, let us to business. If you will excuse :ne, 
 I should prefer our interview took place alone." 
 
 "Alone?" 
 
 "Just so, my lord." 
 
 " I have no secrets from Steggs." 
 
 "None," said that individual, who looked very angry 
 at. the very idea of his being sent away from the cou- 
 ferenca.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 &9 
 
 " That is very likely," replied Jonathan, dryly, " hut I 
 have." 
 
 " But, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " If you want to speak to me, my lord, I cau only 
 repeat what I have just said — our interview must take 
 place in private, and I am sure Mr. Steggs would not 
 wish to intrude." 
 
 Few could be more nolite than Jonathan Wild when it 
 suited him to bo so. 
 
 Some whispered conversation now took place between 
 his lordship and Steggs, which terminated in the latter 
 leaving the room. 
 
 Jonathan touched the concealed handle of the boll. 
 
 Tonks appeared. 
 
 " Show this gentleman out, Tonks. Come back in an 
 hour, Mr. Steggs." 
 
 Rage, impotent rage, swelled in the heart of the villain 
 Steggs, as he followed Tonks down the stairs. 
 
 The idea entered his mind of bribing Tonks to listen 
 to what took place between his lordship and Wild, but 
 upon second thoughts he abandoned the idea. 
 
 As soon as the door was fairly closed, Lord Doumull 
 turned an inquiring glance upon Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " You are surprised at my not allowing your confederate 
 to be present. You will not, though, when you know my 
 motive." 
 
 " Speak, Mr. Wild, speak ! " cried his lordship, his 
 guilty soul in an agony of apprehension. " What is your 
 reason ? " 
 
 " Simply this. He is not to be trusted." 
 
 " Not trusted ? " 
 
 " You need not feel surprised, I know all." 
 
 His lordship turned several degrees paler than he 
 usually was, and sank back in his chair. 
 
 " All what?" 
 
 " Your motives for wishing to obtain possession of this 
 girl. Believe me, it would have been much better for you 
 to have been candid with me at once." 
 
 "But— but" 
 
 " There are no huts in the case ! My lord, I am a man 
 of few words, and those words are to the purpose. You 
 will find it to your interest to trust me ; I can be of great 
 service to you. I will, too, be faithful, so long as you pay 
 me well. But that fellow who has just left us has other 
 designs in view." 
 
 " How do you know that, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " I can read it in his face, my lord, without much atten- 
 tion. As a friend, and whether you go any further with 
 me in this business, I say to you, beware of that man ! " 
 
 Lord Donmull, in accordance with his usual nervous 
 habit, when anything disturbed him, sprang to his feet, 
 and paced up and down the room. 
 
 Jonathan eyed him with eager satisfaction. 
 
 " How much do you really know of this affair, Mr. 
 Wild ? " asked his lordship, pausing abruptly in front of 
 the thief-taker. 
 
 " I have already told your lordship that I know all, and 
 to convince you of the truth of my assertion, I need only 
 say the girl you seek, and who is well known to me, is 
 your eldest brother's only child, who was stolen from him 
 in her infancy, and to whom he bequeathed the whole of 
 the estates which you now hold. You wish this girl in 
 your possession. Beyond that I seek to know nothing." 
 
 Without appearing to close his eyes, Jonathan Wild 
 gazed narrowly into the countenance of his lordship, who 
 little thought that he was then venturing upon still 
 more dangerous ground. 
 
 Upon hearing this confirmation of his assertion that he 
 ( did know all, Lord Donmull cast himself into the chair 
 he had just before quitted. 
 
 " What are your terms, Mr. Wild ? " he said, " sup- 
 posing I made up my mind to employ you to carry out 
 this business ? " 
 
 CHAPTER LXVIL 
 
 THE NOBLEMAN AND THE THIEF-TAKER COME TO AN 
 ARRANGEMENT WITH EACH OTHER, AND LEVEE IS 
 CROSS-EXAMINED. 
 
 A sickly sort of smile distorted the visage of the thief- 
 taker when this question was propounded to him. He 
 knew he had another victim in the toils. 
 " I should be entitled to your lordship's consideration 
 
 upon too many distinct grounds," he said, avoiding a 
 direct reply. 
 
 " Indeed. How so ? " 
 
 "In the first place, there is catching the girl and placing 
 her in your hands." 
 
 " Yes, yes." 
 
 " And in the second " — here Jonathan sank his voice to 
 a whisper — " keeping to myself the secret of who she 
 really is." 
 
 Lord Doumull shuddered, but ho did not, think in what 
 a powerful position Wild would be placed if he obtained 
 possession of the girl and kept her back from him. He 
 would then be able to dictate what terms he chose. 
 
 " As for Steggs," said Wild, " I will undertake to dis- 
 pose of him. You do not know me yet. From constant 
 observation, and from the opportunities I have had of 
 studying all kinds of people, I am generally able to read a 
 person's character at a glance. My lord, that man is 
 plotting against you. Instead of him being your tool, you 
 are in reality his, and ho will so manage matters as at last 
 to get you completely into his power." 
 
 " If — if," stammered his lordship. " If I really thought 
 you were right" 
 
 " You are free to use your own judgment. Now, from 
 the way in which you first came to me, I thought your 
 business with the girl was a mere passing fancy you had 
 taken for a pretty face, but in a couple of hours afterwards 
 I was acquainted with the actual facts of the case." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " 
 
 " Now, my lord, you would have found it by far your best 
 policy if you had come to me and explained the whole 
 matter fully, and then asked my assistance and advice." 
 
 Lord Donmull put his arms upon the table, and let his 
 head fall upon them. 
 
 He was only half convinced of the truth of what his 
 companion had just said. A vague sense of coming 
 danger oppressed him, but whether he would escape it 
 by deciding with or against the thief-taker he could not 
 tell. 
 
 " You have not named your price, Mr. Wild," he said 
 at length. 
 
 " Nor shall I, my lord. When I have performed the 
 service, I shall leave my recompense for it to your own 
 generosity." 
 
 " That sounds fair." 
 
 " I am glad you think so. Do you accept ? If so, 
 say at once. There is no time to lose. If you decide 
 in the affirmative, and that, I can assure you, will be the 
 best course for you to pursue to further your own in- 
 terests, I shall set about the business without an hour's 
 delay." 
 
 " But your wound ? " 
 
 " That will not signify." 
 
 " You have a dauntless spirit and iron energy, Mr. 
 Wild. Would I had— would I had." 
 
 " You naturally feel the precariousness of your situa- 
 tion. I can understand your anxiety; but make your 
 mind easy. Leave all to me, and I will undertake that all 
 shall turn out well." 
 
 The positive tone in which these words were "uttered 
 inspired Lord Donmull with a momentary gleam of 
 hope. 
 
 Wild went on. 
 
 " It is now getting night. I am recovering from my 
 wounds. In half-an-hour I shall be in pursuit of them." 
 
 " You are a wonderful man, Mr. Wild." 
 
 A smile of gratified vanity appeared upon the thief- 
 taker's lips. 
 
 " Stop a moment, my lord. I will call in one of my 
 men ; and I will question him in your presence." 
 
 " And Steggs." 
 
 "My lord, I leave that matter entirely in your own 
 hands. To me it is no matter which way you decide ; but 
 as a piece of friendly advice, which you will excuse my 
 giving, ac you have employed me in this matter, I say, 
 for your own safety's sake, get rid of that man." 
 
 " But how— how ? " asked his lordship, anxiously ; " he 
 knows all." 
 
 " There are means," said Wild, with grim sig—lto&oee, 
 "by which Ins knowledge may he made of no avail." 
 
 '' What do you menu ? " 
 
 " Never mind. If you agree with what I have said say 
 the word, and I will guarantee that Steggs never troubles 
 I you again."
 
 100 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Lord Donmull shuddered as he said — 
 " You would murder him ! " 
 
 " That is an ugly word, my lord ; I will put him out of 
 the way." 
 
 " Enough, enough ! " 
 " Do you consent ? " 
 
 "I do." _ . 
 
 " Then let me say disinterestedly you are wise. Just 
 think ; with your plans accomplished, and that man hang- 
 ing upon you, what sort of life would yours he ? No 
 enviable one, certainly. Now when I am employed in a 
 matter I expect to be paid upon its completion, and then 
 I forget all about it." 
 
 " I leave it to your hands, then ; heaven knows I uavo 
 nothing to be thankful to him for. Before he came I was 
 
 secure and happy, and now " 
 
 " Now I suppose you possess neither ! Do not despair, 
 my lord ; I will carry out this affair for you, and then all 
 will be well again. I shall rely upon your gratitude as a 
 recompense." . 
 
 " You will have no cause for complaint, Mr. Wild. In 
 a matter of this sort I should not be particular to a 
 trifle." _ . _ _ .„ .. 
 
 " That is agreed, then ; and now, as I said, I will call 
 in my man, and you shall hear what he says in answer to 
 my questions." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild again pressed the concealed handle 
 of the bell. 
 
 " Send Levee up," he yelled, as Tonks hist put his head 
 inside the room. 
 
 There was a few moments' delay, and then Levee, in 
 anything but an enviable frame of mind, made his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 " I want to ask you some questions." 
 Levee glanced at Jonathan's visitor inquiringly as he 
 replied — 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You went with me in search of three persons." 
 « I did, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " We chased them along the Western-road, and, when 
 near Ealing turnpike, the horse shied and threw me." 
 " That was when you were shot, Mr. Wild." 
 "Who fired?" 
 
 " Blueskin and Sheppard both." 
 " And what took place then ? " 
 
 " They galloped on down the road. We did not follow 
 them, but dismounted to look after you." 
 
 " What then, Levee ? " asked Wild, with a hideous 
 grin. 
 
 " Finding you were either insensible or dead, I gave 
 orders for four of the band to take you home, and then re- 
 mounting, the remainder of us set off in pursuit." 
 "Well?" 
 
 " We galloped on for hours, and kept the sharpest look- 
 out, but they were not in sight or hearing when we started, 
 and we failed to capture them." 
 
 " You hear," said Wild to Lord Donmull. 
 Then turning to Levee, he said — 
 " Where would they be likely to go. Have you any 
 idea ? " 
 
 "No, Mr. Wild, I haven't; but" 
 
 "But what?" 
 " I think Wilkinson has." 
 "Why? how?" 
 
 " He dropped a hint to that effect, if you please, sir, 
 and said if you would 6end for him he would tell you what 
 he knew." 
 
 " That will do, then. Get ready half-a-dozen of you, 
 and get me a horse. I will see if I cannot root them out. 
 Send Wilkinson up at once." 
 
 Levee withdrew. The interview was a very different 
 one to what he expected. 
 
 " This may be important, my lord," said Jonathan, as 
 the door closed. " Wilkinson would not venture to send 
 such a message unless he had something to cormuuni- 
 cate." 
 " I am glad of it." 
 
 " However, you shall listen to what he has got to say ; 
 but let things b« how they may, I shall set off in pur- 
 suit." 
 "Mr. Wild!" 
 " My lord ! " 
 
 " Should you object in any way to my forming a portion 
 of your party ? " 
 
 " By no means if you wish it." 
 
 " I do wish it, then. I think the excitement wouW do 
 me good, and I should not be so full of suspense as I 
 should be while waiting for intelligence." 
 
 " As you please. If this man can in some way put us 
 on the right track, so much the better. Our task will then 
 be easy ; but, at any rate, I will scour all the country until 
 1 find them." 
 
 " I am glad you are so in earnest over the affair." 
 
 " I am determined. Not only is there your business to 
 carry out, but I have a personal account to settle with 
 those who are with her." 
 
 "As you please." 
 
 " That is nothing to you, my lord. I will put the girl 
 in your hands ; then 1 shall be done with it. I will take 
 the two men, and you will be done with them." 
 
 "Exactly. One of them is, I think, the rascal that 
 so assaulted me and robbed me of my watch." 
 
 "He is. But don't trouble about that. He shall acquit 
 in full all obligations." 
 
 There was a momentary pause, and Wild again touched 
 the handle of the bell. 
 
 Then both listened. 
 
 A rapid step ascended the stairs, and then some one 
 tapped gently at the door. 
 
 " Come in ! " roared Wild, " come in ! " 
 
 In obedience to this command the door was opened, and 
 Wilkinson crept into the room like one who was going to 
 his death. 
 
 It was wonderful what a state of subjection Jonathan 
 managed to keep his men in ; but the fact was, there was 
 not one who did not live entirely upon sufferance. He had 
 the power of handing them over to the authorities, and 
 then their conviction and execution or transportation fol- 
 lowed as a matter of course. 
 
 And so Wilkinson, although he had important intelli- 
 gence to communicate, trembled lest it should not be well 
 received. 
 
 CHAPTER LXVI1I. 
 
 WILKINSON GIVES JONATHAN WILD SOME VERY IMPOR- 
 TANT INFORMATION AS TO THE WHEREABOUTS OF 
 THE FUGITIVES. 
 
 " Shut the door," said Wild, "and then tell me what you 
 have got to sav." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You told Levee that you thought you could form some 
 idea of the place where the three fugitives have gone 
 to?" 
 
 " I don't know about that, Mr. Wild ; I will leave it to 
 you, sir, if you please, as being the best judge. " 
 
 " Go on," said Wild. " Let us hear what it is." 
 
 " I will, sir. You remember, of course, Geoffrey, as 
 was tucked up two or three sessions ago ? " 
 
 "What of him?" 
 
 "Why, he was always very great with Blueskin, and 
 one day I happened to overhear what they were talking 
 about." 
 
 " Well ?" 
 
 " Geoffrey, if you please, Mr. Wild, was saying how he 
 had arranged a secret place of refuge he would be able to 
 fly to in case of any dauger. It was a place, he said, 
 where they would never think of looking to find him, and 
 was quite a secret." 
 
 " Then what made him tell Blueskin ?" 
 
 " Because they were friends, and he thought he might 
 as well have the benefit of it as him, so he gave him a 
 very particular description of it." 
 
 " Which vou heard ? " 
 
 " Which I heard, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Be careful," said Jonathan ; " this promises to be im- 
 portant?. Tell me, what was this place P" 
 
 " He called it Tylney Abbey, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Tylney Abbey, Tylney Abbey," repeated Jonathan. 
 " I have heard that name. Where is it ?" 
 
 " Just on the borders of Oxfordshire, I believe, sir." 
 
 " Well, you have not told us all now." 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, I haven't. He described how you bad 
 to get to the ruins through a very large wood, and through 
 the courtyard to the north turret. At the top of this 
 north turret was the room he had prepared for the purpose 
 of hiding in." 
 
 Jonathan sprang to his feet.
 
 BLUE&K.IN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 10-.. 
 
 " This is news," he said, "indeed." 
 
 "From all I can hear," said Wilkinson, "they ap- 
 pears to have taken the direct road to this place, and I 
 fancy it is just there where they would hide." 
 
 " You may depend upon it," said Wild. " Get ready to 
 accompany us. We shall start directly. Order a, horse, 
 too, for this gentleman." 
 
 " If what you have said turns out to be right,** said 
 Lord Donmull, " I will take care you do not go un- 
 jflwarded." 
 
 " Bah ! " said Jonathan " Be off." 
 
 Wilkinson disappeared. 
 
 Wild rubbed his hands gleefully, and an exultant smile 
 appeared upon his features. 
 
 " We have them, my lord," he said. " We have them." 
 
 " You are confident." 
 
 " I feel I am right." It is just the place they would 
 think the best to hide in." 
 
 " I only hope we shall be lucky enough to capture 
 them, Mr. Wild. This fearful anxiety is killing me.' 
 
 And no one to have looked in the haggard countenance 
 of his lordship would have doubted his assertion, that it 
 was indeed acting most prejudicially upon his health. 
 
 " Console yourself with the idea that your anxiety will 
 soon be at an end." 
 
 " 1 hope so — I hope so." 
 
 " Are you ready, my lord ? " 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 " Then we will start at once. You cannot think what 
 a satisfaction it will be for me to get her companions into 
 my power. But before we start let us defend ourselves 
 against our long journey. Drink that ! " 
 
 Jonathan, as he spoke, went to the cupboard and pro- 
 duced a bottle and two glasses. 
 
 He filled one for himself and one for his visitor. 
 
 " Let us drink success to our endeavours," cried Jona- 
 than. 
 
 The two villains lifted the glasses to their lips, and 
 emptied them at a draught. 
 
 Then Wild led the way down stairs. 
 
 On reaching the street they heard the clattering of 
 horses' hoofs in the quiet street, and the next moment 
 Levee and the band rode up to the door. 
 
 There was a spare horse for Wild, and one for Lord 
 Donmull. 
 
 These worthies sprang into their saddles at once. 
 
 " Now, Wilkinson," cried Wild, " where are you ? " 
 
 " Here, sir, if you please." 
 
 " Very good. Keep close to me, and direct us." 
 
 At a sharp trot they took their way along Holborn to 
 .he Western-road. 
 
 This was a pace that enabled them to get over the 
 ground at a very fair rate, without much exhausting the 
 horses. 
 
 It was a long and weary ride, but at last they came 
 in sight of the wood, and the tops of the ruins peering 
 above it. 
 
 "According to the description, Mr. Wild," said 
 Wilkinson, in reply to some remark the thief-taker had 
 made to him; "according to the description I heard 
 Geoffery give to Blueskin, that must be the place." 
 
 "We will inquire, if possible. Can you see a house 
 hereabouts?" 
 
 "There is a cottage, yonder, if you please, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Very good. Call at it." 
 
 The cottage turned out, on a nearer approach, to be one 
 of those small country inns which are met with so fre- 
 quently in England. 
 
 Its inmates appeared to be upon the point of retiring 
 for the night when the party arrived. 
 
 Wild deemed it advisable to make a bit of a halt 
 here. The horses would be all the better for a few 
 minutes' rest and refreshment. There was the return 
 journey to be made. 
 
 Ale was provided for the men, and Wild, by means of a 
 a few adroit inquires, managed to elicit the information 
 he required. 
 
 Not only did he leajni that the ruins in the wood were 
 those of Tylney Abbey, but also that the place was 
 haunted by evil spirits. 
 
 Observing Jonathan smile contemptuously upon bearing 
 this, the landlady, in confirmation, stated how during the 
 past two nights a mysterious light had been seen in the 
 «">rth turret. 
 
 This seemed conclusive that the fugitives were really 
 there, for that there was anything supernatural Wild did 
 not for a moment believe. 
 
 "And I daresay," said the landlady, rather indignantly, 
 " if you go to the door you will find the light visible. It 
 was just at this time last night that we saw it." 
 
 "Oh! indeed," cried Jonathan. "Then I'll pay you 
 for what we have had, and go to the door and see." 
 
 Ho did so, and the landlady rather triumphantly pointed 
 to a stream of light which issued from the highest part of 
 the ruins. 
 
 " There," she said, " that is the north turret, and there 
 is the mysterious light. This is the second night of ite 
 appearance, and I know on the third something terrible 
 will be sure to take place." 
 
 "I don't doubt that for a moment," said Jonathan. 
 " Good night. Forward, forward ! " 
 
 The little cavalcade was quickly in motion . 
 
 As they drew nearer to the wood, the light increased in 
 brightness. 
 
 The reader is aware that this proceeded from the fire 
 Blueskin had lighted. 
 
 Little did those three persons think, in whose well-doing 
 we feel so great an interest, that they were upon the 
 threshold of so much danger. They fancied themselves 
 secure when they were really in the most peril. 
 
 So well had Wilkinson listened to and kept in mind the 
 description given by Geoffery, that he was able to lead 
 Jonathan and his party to the place with as much precision 
 as Blueskin had. 
 
 So great was the exultation of the villainous thief-taker, 
 that he had the greatest difficulty in concealing it. 
 
 Through the court yards of the old ruins they took their 
 way. 
 
 Presently they came to the little enclosed garden where 
 the two horses had been left. 
 
 If there had been any doubt lingering in Jonathan's 
 mind, the discovery of the cattle in this place would have 
 dispelled it. 
 
 They were on the right track now. 
 
 Whispering a command to his men to maintain as pro- 
 found a silence as possible as they followed him, Jonathan 
 crept stealthily to the door leading to the circular staircase 
 in the north turret. 
 
 This door was not much of an obstacle to those who 
 now wished to pass through it. With the aid of their 
 tools they very quickly had it open. 
 
 Lord Donmull, when he thus found the enterprise he 
 had come upon almost crowned with success, trembled so 
 excessively that he could scarcely stand. 
 
 A draught of brandy from a flask Jonathan took from 
 his pocket, and made him drink at the bottom of the steps, 
 served a little to steady his nerves. 
 
 With a tread as silent as though they had been a band 
 of spectres, they all with great caution ascended the 
 turret steps. 
 
 It will be recollected by the reader that Jack suddenly 
 interrupted himself in what he was saying, because he 
 fancied he heard a slight sound from the direction of the 
 staircase. 
 
 That was Lord Donmull, whose heel struck against the 
 stonework. 
 
 Feeling that they were almost, if not quite, discovered, 
 they bounded up the remainder of the stairs. 
 
 The door was dashed open. 
 
 Then, as stated at the end of a previous chapter, a 
 number of armed men rushed into the chamber. 
 
 It required but one glance for Blueskin and Jack Shep- 
 pard to realize the extent of their danger. 
 
 Jonathan Wild — that foe they had upon every account 
 so much occasion to dread — had discovered the secret of 
 their hiding-place. 
 
 CHAPTER LXIX. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS FALLS INTO THE HANDS OF HER 
 WORST ENEMIES. 
 
 To place themselves in an attitude of defence was but the 
 work of a moment. 
 
 Edgworth Bess uttered a shriek, and shrunk for pro- 
 tection behind her defenders. 
 
 Blueskin, as soon as he saw what an overwhelming force 
 was opposed to him— that all possible »etreat was cut o/v-i 
 gave up all hope.
 
 4 102 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 That they could prove victorious was quite out of the 
 question. 
 
 Nevertheless, he drew his hanger and pistols, and so 
 did Sheppard, who had the same unpleasant conviction 
 forced upon him. 
 
 They resolved to fight, and defend the young girl to the 
 death. 
 
 Upon seeing his prey before him, like rats in a trap, 
 a, howl of rage and triumph hurst from Jonathan's lips. 
 
 " Down with them ! " he cried. " Take them prisoners, 
 all. Down with them, I say." 
 
 Jonathan's heavy and sharp sword was in his grasp, 
 and, as ho uttered these words, he precipitated himself 
 upon our two friends. 
 
 In this attack ho was backed up by his men. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin stood shoulder to shoulder firmly, 
 and repulsed the assault as well as they were able. 
 
 In obedience to previously given instructions none of 
 Wild's men used fire-arms. His object was to take all 
 three prisoners. 
 
 The clashing of swords— the trampling of footsteps, 
 and the hoarse cries of the combatants — were terrific, 
 and made the old ruin positively tremble beneath them. 
 
 Lord Dotimull stood without. 
 
 Either from cowardice or else shame at the foul part 
 he was playing. 
 
 But such a combat as this, where the advantages were 
 all on one side, could not be of long duration. 
 
 Blueskin opposed himself to Wild. 
 
 The former was cool, steady, and determined. 
 
 The other seemed maddened with fury. 
 
 " Die, wretch ! " he cried, as he lifted his sword, and 
 grasped the hilt with both his hands. " Die, villain ! " 
 
 Blueskin put up his weapon to ward off the blow, but it 
 was impossible. 
 
 The mere force with which it was brought down was 
 more than sufficient to break through all guard. 
 
 Down came Jonathan's sword upon Blueskin's head. 
 
 Its sharp edge cut through his cap and scalp. 
 
 He fell down as though he had been struck with a 
 sledge-hammer. 
 
 Blood in an immense quantity gushed from the wound,' 
 and dyed the floor. 
 
 At the moment he fell, the men who had been 
 struggling with Jack closed upon and captured him. 
 
 But he struggled fiercely in their grasp. 
 
 It was, however, unavailingly. 
 
 Joy sparkled in the eyes of Jonathan Wild, as, darting 
 forward, he clasped Bess in his arms. 
 
 It was in vain she struggled to free herself. 
 
 She uttered shriek upon shriek. 
 
 But in the arms of the thief-taker she was like a dove 
 in the talons of a hawk. 
 
 Seeing her thus taken filled Jack with the utmost fury, 
 and the attempts he made to extricate himself were really 
 superhuman. 
 
 For a moment he did succeed in getting his right arm 
 free. 
 
 He struck out furiously with it. 
 
 But before he could achieve any advantage it was again 
 held behind him. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said Jonathan, as he dragged his shriek- 
 ing victim through the doorway. " Ha ! ha ! Jack, you 
 see what you get by setting yourself up in opposition to 
 me. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 To this speech Jack deigned no reply. 
 
 " Bring him along, bull-dogs," yelled Wild, as he began 
 the descent of the stars ; " bring him along, and if he es- 
 capes you shall all swing for it — mind that." 
 
 This threat, which they well enough knew was no idle 
 one, made them tighten their hold upon Jack. 
 
 A pair of handcuffs were with professional dexterity 
 slipped over his wrists. 
 
 Then a belt, which one of Wild's men took from round 
 his waist, was passed between Jack's back and elbows and ( 
 buckled tightly. 
 
 This left him utterly defenceless, if we may except his 
 feet. 
 
 They dragged him down the staircase after Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 
 Blueskin they left for dead upon the floor. 
 
 It was scarcely possible for any one to survive such a 
 blow upon the crown as that was. 
 
 So suddenly had all this taken place that Jack had some 
 
 difficulty in fully realizing the change of circumstances 
 which had taken place. 
 
 As for Jonathan, his delight knew no bounds. 
 
 He had succeeded better than even he anticipated. 
 
 When the men who had Jack in charge reached the 
 little enclosed garden they found Jonathan waiting for 
 them. 
 
 Bess had fainted. 
 
 " Villain ! " cried Sheppard, his voice husky with rage 
 and emotion ; " villain, you have killed her ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 There was something horrible in the way Wild made 
 this reply, and Jack felt the blood boil in his veins as he 
 heard it. 
 
 " You triumph now," he said, " but it will not be for 
 long. The time will soon arrive when you will bitterly 
 repent what you have done to-night." 
 
 " Go on," said Jonathan, with a coolness that made 
 Jack almost mad ; "goon; I like to hear you. One thing 
 is certain — you won't have the chance of crowing much 
 longer." 
 
 As he spoke, he gave the word to his men, and they set 
 off through the wood. 
 
 On reaching its outskirts they mounted. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was still insensible. 
 
 Jonathan gave her in charge of one of his janizaries for 
 a moment while he mounted, and then he placed her on 
 the saddle before him . 
 
 Jack now commenced another desperate struggle, but it 
 was in vain. 
 
 Despite all the resistance he could offer, he was lifted on 
 to the back of one of the horses. 
 
 A cord was placed round his ancles, and his feet drawn 
 together by it under the horse's belly. 
 
 He was then perfectly helpless. 
 
 One of the men, however, got up behind him. 
 
 His chances of escape were few indeed. 
 
 " Forward ! " cried Mr. Wild. " Mind your prisoner. 
 If he escapes you know the penalty. My lord ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild," replied Lord Donmull. 
 
 " Bide close to me. You see I am right. I have suc- 
 ceeded." 
 
 " You have. And now what is next to be done ? " 
 
 "That point is for your own consideration. We can 
 talk of it as we go." 
 
 Lord Donmull was silent. 
 
 A multitude of thoughts came thronging through ki.s 
 brain. 
 
 After the pause had lasted some time Wild spoke. 
 
 " Will you excuse me," he said, " if I make you a sug- 
 gestion ? " 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " You will not take it amiss, I hope." 
 
 " I cannot do that. I am already deeply indebted for 
 your advice. What were you about to say ? " 
 
 " This. But you must promise to keep a secret." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " I have in my house in Newgate-street, or beneath it I 
 ought perhaps to say, some cells." 
 
 " I have had as much whispered to me." 
 
 "Indeed. By whom?" 
 
 "Steggs." 
 
 " Oh ! never mind. I was going to tell you in one of 
 those cells this girl may be safely and secretly deposited 
 until such time as you make up your mind concerning 
 her." 
 
 " Be it so. Mr. Wild. It is the very thing I should have 
 desired." 
 
 " 1 am glad my suggestion meets with your approval, 
 my lord." 
 
 Treat her gently, Wild ; treat her gently. I am not so 
 bad as to wish unnecessary pain inflicted on her, nor — 
 nor" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Do I wish her death." 
 
 " You do not ?" 
 
 " No. If she could be induced in some way to legally 
 transfer the estates to me I would spare her life, and not 
 only that, allow her a good yearly income." 
 
 " You will have time to think upon it, for, as I under- 
 stand, you have determined to place her for a short time 
 in my keeping." 
 
 " I have, Wild, I have. If you will carry oat in>r 
 instructions."
 
 BLTJESTCIN : A ROITANCI 
 
 " That you may rely upon." 
 
 "Treat her, then, with no unnecessary rigour. Let no one 
 know of her existence. It may be that the solitude of a 
 dungeon will induce her to comply with my demands." 
 
 " It is probable, and well worth a trial." 
 
 " I think so. And now, Wild, good night. We per- 
 fectly understand each other. I can trust you to take her 
 to your house in safety. Good night." 
 
 " Good night, my lord." 
 
 Lord Donmull rode off in the direction of his residence. 
 
 " Fool ! " muttered Wild, as he looked after him, " fool ! 
 I have you now completely in my power. You shall yet 
 learn what Jonathan really is. Fortune smiles on me to- 
 night. I shall do well out of this. Forward, there, with 
 the prisoner ! " 
 
 CHAPTER LXX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD TOR THE FIRST, BUT NOT FOR THE LAST 
 TIME, SEES THE INTERIOR OF NEWGATE. 
 
 Day was just about to dawn when Jonathan and his band 
 with the two prisoners trotted up Snow-hill. 
 
 He first directed his course to his own residence. 
 Levee knocked at the door, and then sprang to Wild's 
 side to assist him with his burden. 
 
 As soon as he reached the ground Jonathan again took 
 the young girl in his arms. It was evident he considered 
 her a possession of no small value. 
 
 Jack, meanwhile, was forced to remain motionless upon 
 his horse. 
 
 He would have shouted for assistance had he the 
 power, but they had taken care to gag him securely before 
 they entered London. 
 
 They left him the use of his eyes, and he watched 
 Jonathan carry Edgworth Bess into the gloomy precincts 
 of that house from which he had with so much difficulty 
 and danger escaped. 
 
 The agony he then endured was beyond all expression, 
 and upon finding himself so utterly powerless, can it be 
 wondered at that despair took possession of his heart. 
 
 He was quite at a loss to think why he was kept in the 
 street ; why he, too, was not hurried into that mysterious 
 abode. 
 
 He soon knew, and the knowledge made him still more 
 downcast than before. 
 
 We will follow Jonathan. 
 
 Stalking down the passage, he called out for the iron 
 grating leading to the cells to be thrown open. 
 
 Then he descended the steps, and pursued that route 
 which must be already familiar to our readers. 
 
 At the door of one of the cells he paused, and taking a 
 key from his pocket, he opened it. 
 
 It happened to be situated in the immediate vicinity of 
 the oil lamp that was always kept burning in that under- 
 ground passage, so that when he threw open the door 
 some of the beams from it found their way into the dun- 
 geon, and revealed its cheerless aspect. 
 
 Comparatively, however, it was much more comfortable 
 than many of the dungeons wei - e. The walls and floor 
 were tolerably free from moisture, and in one corner was 
 a quantity of clean straw. 
 
 Upon this he rapidly and carefully deposited his in- 
 sensible burden. 
 
 It was impossible for Jonathan to conceal his intense 
 exultation. 
 
 Plans of aggrandizement, of power, flitted quickly 
 through his brain, and the more he reflected, the more 
 pleased did he seem. 
 
 But having assured himself that her swoon was nothing 
 but a fainting fit, induced by flight, he left her to recover 
 herself. 
 
 He closed and locked the door of the cell, and then 
 hastily made his way to the door. 
 
 " Dismount," he cried. " Take care of the prisoner. 
 
 The men at once flung themselves from their horses, 
 and unbound Jack, but they took care to keep a tight hold 
 of him. 
 
 " Thin way, 1 " yelled Wild, as he walked down Newgate- 
 j street towards the Old Bailey, " this way. Come on." 
 
 SThey hurried after him. 
 Jack shuddered when his gaze fell upon the huge black 
 prison. 
 j The door by which prisoners entered was quickly 
 i reached. 
 
 Jonathan himself knocked at the portal. 
 The sliding shutter that covered the small grated aper- 
 ture was, according to custom, dashed aside. 
 
 Some angry question was doubtless upon the top of his 
 lips, but the light of the lamps that hung over the door- 
 way fell upon Wild's face, and enabled the man to see 
 who the applicant for admission was. 
 
 The door was opened with astonishing quickness, for 
 Wild just then was held greatly in awe by all the New- 
 gate officials. 
 
 In fact, the governor of the prison and Jonathan were 
 in collusion together, and it was well-known that a com- 
 plaint from Jonathan was sure to be the means of getting 
 them into trouble. 
 
 Hence he was treated with a civility and deference 
 that he would never, under other circumstances, have 
 received. 
 
 Jonathan, as soon as the door was opened, walked into 
 the vestibule, and beckoned his men to bring their prisoner 
 up the steps. 
 
 This was done, and then the door was closed with a 
 bang. 
 
 It seemed to Jack as though it shut him out entirely 
 from the world. 
 
 " Send for Mr. Noakes," cried Wild, in his most fero- 
 cious tones, " and tell him to be quick, curse you ! " 
 The man vanished. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was the name of the then governor of 
 Newgate. 
 
 Now this gentleman happened just then to be in bed ; 
 but, upon hearing it was Jonathan Wild who had sum- 
 moned him, he bastened to put on his clothes. 
 
 Five minutes later, and rather picturesquely attired, he 
 made his way into the lobby. 
 
 " Look here, Mr. Noakes," said Wild, " here is a young 
 man I want you to take particular care of." 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Wild. Of course. Pope and Bain, 
 see to Mr. Wild's prisoner." 
 
 Pope and Bain, two of the turnkeys, took charge of 
 Jack, and they found him by no means easy to hold. 
 But they were used to that sort of thing. 
 "And now, Mr. Wild," said the governor, "what is 
 the prisoner's name, and what is the charge you have 
 against him ?" 
 
 "One question at a time," said Wild, as be produced 
 his pocket-book and wrote something on the leaf. "His 
 name is John Sheppard. The charge against him is a 
 burglar)'." 
 
 " That's quite sufficient, Mr. Wild, quite sufficient. Put 
 the prisoner in a strong cell, and see that ho does not 
 make his escape." 
 
 Yes," added Jonathan, '* use every precaution. I can 
 assure you, you will find him a very troublesome cus- 
 tomer." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild, I'll see that he is taken care of. 
 I'll wager my head he don't get out." 
 _ " What ? Will you ? " said Jack, speaking for the first 
 time. 
 
 " Wager your head I don't get out." 
 " What do you mean by talking to me ? " 
 " Ask my elbow. But I'll bet my hand against your 
 stupid old head that I do get out of here. Come now ! " 
 
 The top of the governor's nose grew quite purple with 
 rage at this audacity upon the part of the prisoner. 
 
 " Off with him," he cried. " Load him with irons ! 
 Escape indeed ! I'll see about that." 
 
 Wild in his heart was rather amused, though he did not 
 allow his countenance to give token of it. 
 
 " I would advise you to keep a sharp eye upon him, Mr. 
 Noakes," he said, as the turnkeys hustled Jack off down a 
 passage. 
 
 "A sharp eye. Confound his impudence to wager his 
 hand to my head ! He's inexperienced yet, Mr. Wild, 
 or else be would know better than be at enmity with the 
 governor." 
 
 " Well," said Wild, " from what I know of him I firmly 
 believe he would not care a jot either for your friendship 
 or your enmity. He has too independent a spirit by halt'. 
 I would give a trifle to bend him to my schemes. He 
 would be invaluable, but there is little hope, I am afraid." 
 " Of course that's your affair, not mine," replied the 
 governor. " What do you intend to do with him ? The 
 sessions will soon be on, you know." 
 "They will, I'll take care about that. There is my
 
 104 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 authority to keep him in charge. I will take him before 
 the magistrate to-morrow morning." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild. Good night." 
 
 " Good morning," growled Jonathan, as he passed 
 through the wicket into the Old Bailey, and walked 
 towards his own house. 
 
 In the meantime, Jack had been hurried Elong a number 
 of passages, and up and down numerous flights of steps, 
 until his brain grew bewildered in the attempt to remember 
 the route by which he had come. 
 
 They paused at length before a small but massive door. 
 
 The wood of which it was made was oak, strengthened 
 in every way the imagination could suggest by bands and 
 rivets of iron. 
 
 It was fastened by means of an iron bar, two huge iron 
 bolts, one at the top and oue at the bottom, aud a lock 
 that must have weighed a quarter of a hundred weight at 
 least. 
 
 The key that the jailer produced to unlock it with 
 was really quite a formidable-looking piece of metal, and, 
 iu desperate hands, would have formed an effective 
 weapon. 
 
 This huge key was then inserted into the still huger 
 lock, and Bain, applying both his hands, and putting out 
 the whole of his strength, shot back the bolt. 
 
 The other fastenings were then undone, and Jack was 
 very roughly thrust into the dungeon. 
 
 But he expected some such trick to be played him, aud 
 was on his guard accordingly ; but in spite of that, he 
 reached the hard stones with rather a heavy fall, for 
 his hands, being secured together as they were, were 
 unable to save him from the effects of the fall. 
 
 Bang went the door, aud then Jack was half conscious 
 that the bolts were shot into their sockets, and the bar 
 put up. 
 
 But the force with which he came into contact with the 
 stones depi-ived him partially of the use of his facuhie 
 
 He soon recovered himself, however, from the effects 
 of that, and he raised himself painfully to his feet. 
 
 He knew when he last looked up at the sky that the 
 dawn of the new day was visible, but all around him now 
 was as black as the very grave itself. 
 
 In a few minutes afterwards he saw a light shining 
 beneath his dungeon door, aud heard the sound of voices 
 and feet in the corridor without. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXI. 
 
 THE STRONGEST CELL IN ALL NEWGATE PROVES NOT 
 STRONG ENOUGH TO RETAIN ITS INMATE. 
 
 Jack Sheppakd had for the moment quite forgotten the 
 ■ ivernor's instructions about the irons, aud that thoje 
 instructions had not been carried out, so he was at a loss 
 to know the meaning of this sudden visit. 
 
 When he saw them enter his cell, he immediately re- 
 membered it, and comprehended. 
 
 He was too much hurt by his fall to make much re- 
 sistance to the irons being riveted upon his limbs, but 
 still he took care not to let them see he was iu any way 
 injured. 
 
 The operation of putting on the fetters was very quickly 
 performed. 
 
 Jack was freed from the handcuffs, and also from the 
 belt that confined his arms behind his back. 
 
 For this he felt thankful, and his irons were almost 
 plpasant in comparison. 
 No one who has not known what it is to have the 
 ! arms bound tightly in one position for many hours can 
 ■ tell what a dreadful feeling it is. 
 
 Just as the last rivet was put in and the smith picked 
 up his tools, the governor entered the dungeon, in order to 
 assure himself by personal observation that his commands 
 had been properly carried out. 
 
 He even walked up to the prisoner, and felt that the 
 joins were all secure. 
 
 " You needn't take so much pains, it will amount to the 
 same thing in the end." 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " You are evidently afraid that I shall win my bet, and 
 so I shall ! " 
 
 •'' Then you will have a little more trouble, that's all," 
 said the governor, with a coarse laugh at his own wit, in 
 
 which, of course, out of compliment, the two jailers and 
 the smith heartily joined. 
 
 " You may laugh ; " said Jack, " but when you fiud your- 
 self with your ugly old head off, you'll change your note, 
 I'm thinking." 
 
 " Come away," said the governor. " Come away, and 
 leave him to it." 
 
 " Good-bye, then, for I tell you, you won't see me 
 again until I come to claim the stake." 
 
 The door was banged, shut, and then the three re- 
 treated. 
 
 When they had fairly gone, a great change took place 
 in Jack's behaviour. 
 
 A few rays of daylight now straggled iu through the 
 grated window, and made the different objects in the dun- 
 geon visible. 
 
 He seated himself upon the stone bench that was in it, 
 leaning his head between his hands. 
 
 There he was loaded with so much iron as to make the 
 least motion almost impossible, in the strongest cell iu the 
 strongest prison in England, with people doubtless keep- 
 ing a sharp eye upon his movements. 
 
 Butit was not so much of himself as of his companion, 
 Edgworth Bess, that he thought. 
 
 There she was in peril, doubtless of her life, surrounded 
 by those anxious for her destruction, while he was power- 
 less to help her. 
 
 This was a thought that drove him almost to distrac- 
 tion. 
 
 Then his mind reverted to Blueskiu, the only other 
 person in the world that the young girl could look upon 
 as a defender. 
 
 Where was he ? 
 
 A bleeding corpse. Another victim to' Jonathan's bru- 
 tality. The sole occupant now of the little chamber at 
 the top of the turret in the old abbey ruins. 
 
 Jack fairly groaued as all these things forced themselves 
 upon him. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " he cried, as he threw himself back 
 upou the hard stone seat. " What shall I do ? Escape! 
 Yes, that is it. In a moment of bravado I said that 1 
 would escape, and I will keep my word." 
 
 A great deal is actually accomplished when we make up 
 our minds to anything, and so Jack found. 
 
 He had firmly resolved to escape, let the difficulty be 
 what it might. 
 
 As well as he could, he looked about him at the different 
 objects in the cell. 
 
 The walls were composed of immense pieces of stone, 
 upon which had been engraved initials and the names ot 
 celebrated characters who had found there a temporary 
 resting-place. 
 
 A step led up to the strong door, which on the inside 
 was covered with one sheet of iron tightly secured by 
 innumerable rivets to the wood. 
 
 To have looked at such an obstacle to freedom would, 
 one would have thought, have daunted the most san- 
 guine . 
 
 From this door Jack's eyes roved to the window. 
 
 It was as high up in the wall as it well could be, and 
 was divided into little squares by horizontal and perpen- 
 dicular iron bars. 
 
 Through this came the first rays of the coming day- 
 light. 
 
 There was little encouragement to be got from that— 
 so little, that Jack turned his gaze upon the door again. 
 
 He rose to his feet. 
 
 " The door," he said ; " that is the only chance I have. 
 Curses ou the villain Jonathan ! But he shall repent 
 when I am free. How came he to discover our retreat ? " 
 he added. " He walked up as though ho know exactly 
 where to find us. Can it be possible that be has the 
 power of knowing what is going on without seeing it ? 
 No, no ; I will not think that." 
 
 As these words reached his lips, he reached the cell- 
 door. 
 
 He looked at it in every part with the closest attention. 
 
 Then he passed his hands over it, especially the sides. 
 He tried to shake the door, but it did not move the least 
 in its setting. 
 
 A calm spectator of the scene would at once have pro- 
 nounced it an impossibility for him to get free, even 
 though he was provided with tools best suited to the 
 purpose.
 
 -- ) 
 
 [jack sheppard takes his first step to escape.] 
 
 Bat Jack himself was of quite a different opinion. 
 
 " I'll do it," be said, " but the first thing necessary will 
 be to get rid of this jewelry." 
 
 He strode back to tbe stone-bench, and sat down again. 
 
 Then, diving his hand into his pocket, he produced a 
 small, strong file. 
 
 Now, before be was placed in the dungeon, in accordance 
 with the invariable custom of tbe prison officials, he had 
 been thoroughly searched, and his pockets emptied. 
 
 How came he, then, with the file ? 
 
 It was owing to a little manual dexterity. 
 
 While the smith was busily engaged in riveting on his 
 irons, he had managed to steal the tool, and put it into 
 bis pocket unseen. 
 
 A smile of triurnp"h overspread his face, as he examined 
 the file, and found wh it a good one it was. 
 
 " With this," he ciied, ' I would make my way out of 
 a thousand Newgates. The governor will lose his bet ; 
 but first let me get free from these fetters." 
 
 His first care was to find out which was the weakest 
 
 part of the iron-work, and this he was not long in doing. 
 
 It was there he determined to commence, but he found, 
 as he drew the sharp edge of the file rapidly across the 
 iron, that a sound was produced which sounded most 
 alarmingly distinct in that quiet place. 
 
 He paused, and the perspiration started out in large 
 drops upon his forehead at the thought that some turnkey 
 might be in the passage without, and heard the sound. 
 
 He listened with the utmost intentness. 
 
 To his great satisfaction, he found the silence unbroken i' 
 by the least sound indicative of the presence of his jailors. | 
 
 "That's well," be said, in a tone which showed how 
 greatly his mind was relieved, " that's well ; I must try 
 to prevent the noise if I can. A little grease now would 
 be the very thing, but its no good thinking about any- 
 thing of that sort ; I must hit upon some other plan. 
 Suppose, now, I was to sing ; I should think that would 
 be the best way to drown the noise of the file." 
 
 No sooner did the thought occur to him than he pre- 
 ceeded to try it. 
 
 No. 14.
 
 105 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 1' struck ur> one of those flash ballads of which there 
 vver e so many about the middle of the last century. 
 
 His voice was a powerful one, and he exerted it to the 
 utmost. 
 
 As might be expected, the noise of the file was quite 
 inaudible. 
 
 Perceiving this, he worked away with right good will, 
 maintaining his singing with uncommon vigour, and very 
 soon, to his delight, he found the file had made quite a 
 deep dent in the soft iron of which the fetters were com- 
 posed. 
 
 At the rate he was going on, of course he soon had one 
 of the bands all but divided. 
 
 Then he paused, and began at another place. 
 
 So he went on until he was convinced that in less than 
 five minutes he could quite free himself from them, 
 though to a casual glance it would seem they were quite 
 
 86Clir(?. 
 
 By this time day had fully come, and the interior of his 
 cell was tolerably light. 
 
 " It would have been better," he thought, as he glanced 
 up at the grated window, " to have waited until night be- 
 fore I began. However, it can't be helped now : I 
 must wait, ! I'll hide the file somewhere, and then trust 
 to concealing how I have worked at my fetters, for 1 aan 
 sure to have some visitors in the course of the clay." 
 
 He found it, though, a very difficult job to hide it, for 
 the floor, like the walls, was composed of solid stone, and 
 did not permit of its being buried. 
 
 He wasted at least an hour fruitlessly, when the sound 
 of approaching footsteps warned him to be prompt. 
 
 One corner of the cell was in much deeper shadow than 
 the rest, so he made his way there, and stuck the file up- 
 right in the corner. 
 
 This, it must be confessed, was a very artificial hiding- 
 place, and where, if any search was made, it would be 
 certainly found, but still it was the best there was. 
 
 He sat down again quickly, and then, the fastenings 
 having been undone, the door of the dungeon was thrown 
 open. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD CARVES HIS NAME UPON THE NEWGATE 
 CELL, AND THEN SETS ABOUT MAKING HIS ESCAPE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard displayed a good deal of skill in the 
 manner in which he managed to dispose himself upon the 
 seat, so that the state of his fetters should not be per- 
 ceptible. 
 
 But on this occasion, at least, his cleverness, as a great 
 deal often is, was thrown away, for the man who came to 
 the door, and whose duty it was to supply the prisoners 
 with food, just put a loaf and a stone-pitcher inside, and, 
 without even looking at Jack, departed. 
 
 In the silence of the place, he heard the man visit 
 several other adjoining cells. 
 
 The sight of the food, coarse and untempting as it was, 
 provoked Jack's appetite, and as he knew he could not 
 hope for success if his strength failed him, he made a 
 hearty meal, and drank plentifully of the water, which he 
 found to be tolerably fresh. 
 
 " I only hope now," he said, " that, in their amazing 
 civility, they won't come troubling me with any more 
 visits. If they don't, I shall be all right enough. Curses 
 on Jonathan Wild, but he shall live to repent this night's 
 work. When I think that Bess, too, is in his power, and 
 in that of her rascally uncle, I feel as though I was going 
 mad. Will night never come ? " he added, as, unable to 
 sit still any louger, he rose, and paced the cell. " I am 
 out of all patience." 
 
 But, alas ! his patience was destined to be put to a 
 more severe trial. The day had but just began, and many 
 a weary hour must necessarily elapse before night came 
 again. 
 
 He knew too well the utter futility of attempting 
 to make his escape, except under the cover of darkness, 
 and so chafed and fretted like some wild animal confined 
 
 in a cage. 
 
 As the day advanced he grew calmer, and was able to 
 take an exact survey of his present position. 
 
 How many stirring and exciting scenes he had gone 
 through sinee that night when, with wild curses and 
 
 threats of revenge, he had left his master's roof! How 
 greatly was he cbanged ! 
 
 About mid-day, the governor, Mr. Noakes, paid a visit 
 to the cell. 
 
 He found the prisoner to all appearance in a state of 
 the greatest possible dejection. 
 
 This was partly real, partly assumed. 
 Jack feared that if he seemed too bold it might result in 
 an examination being made of the state of his fetters, which . 
 was the thing he had most of all to dread. I 
 
 " Well, my spark," cried Mr. Noakes, " not gone yet, I a 
 see ! But I'm not afraid, and I should not have come 1 
 now only to deliver a rather important message." 
 " A message ?" repeated Jack. 
 " Yes, and as I say, an important one." 
 "Who from ? " 
 
 The governor looked round carefully, and then soi.l iu 
 a loud whisper — 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " 
 " Curse him, I say, curse him ! " 
 " Will you listen to the message ? " 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 The governor chose to interpret his silence as consent. 
 "Jonathan Wild," he said, "has commissioned me to 
 say to you that he did not come to-day to take you before 
 the beak, because he was desirous of giving 3"ou an oppor- 
 tunity of having a little calm reflection." 
 "flow kind!" 
 
 " He hopes you will have wisdom enough to come to 
 terms with him to-morrow, when he will make some pro- 
 posals to you. If you consent, why of course you will be 
 
 set free, if not" 
 
 The governor made an expressive movement with his 
 fingers across his throat, uttering a clucking sound at the 
 same time, intended to intimate the consequences that 
 would result from Jack's refusal. 
 
 " Tell him I'll think matters over, according to his re- 
 quest," said the prisonee, at length ; not that he had the 
 remotest intention of coming to any arrangement with 
 Wild, only he thought it would afford him a better oppor- 
 tunity of making his escape. 
 
 " That's right and reasonable," said the governor ; 
 " you'll find it your best plan. Jonathan speaks of you 
 in the highest terms, and, let me tell you, if you value 
 your neck you had better be friends with Mr. Wild than 
 enemies." 
 
 This was a gratuitous piece of advice which Jack did 
 not deem worthy of a reply, and observing his silence, Mr. 
 Noakes turned on his heel and left the place. 
 
 " That's over," said Jack. " Jonathan. I'm much 
 obliged to you. All I want now is darkness." 
 
 But many hours yet he knew must pass before he could 
 have what he required. 
 
 He strove to sleep, but his thoughts were too busy to 
 allow him to do so. 
 
 He did, however, by maintaining a recumbent posture, 
 and resolutely closing his eyes, manage to fall into a 
 doze. 
 
 A long weary time to him seemed to pass, and then a 
 thought entered his mind. 
 He rose to his feet. 
 
 " I will leave something behind me to show I have been 
 here," he said. " I wish I had thought of it before, it 
 would have found me something to do. Still it is not too 
 late." 
 
 While speaking these words, Jack went to the corner 
 where he had deposited the file. 
 
 Then he glanced at the walls around him. 
 Just over the stone bench on which he sat there was a 
 smooth piece of stonework. 
 
 " That's the place," he cried. " Plenty more have cut 
 their names on the old walls, and why shouldn't 1 ? I will, 
 too, or my name's not Jack Sheppard ! This file has got 
 quite a sharp point, and it will do the business beau- 
 tifully ! " 
 
 His next proceeding was to kneel upon the stone bench. 
 "Let me see," he 6aid, "there's plenty of room, so 1 
 will begin here, and in case they should be deaf, I'll make 
 the letters a good size." 
 
 With a laugh at what he was pleased to conceive Iks 
 wit, Jack Sheppard commenced bis task. 
 
 He found the stone gave way easily before Hie file, and 
 before many minutes elapsed he had scratched an enormous 
 capital J upon the wall.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 :07 
 
 He scraped away most industriously, being fully deter- 
 mined that the marks should not wear out in a hurry. 
 
 Having finished the J, he paused awhile to contemplate 
 his handiwork, and feeling satisfied therewith, set about 
 the next letter with great energy and good will. 
 
 In something less than an hour he had managed to cut, 
 in great straggling letters, the name — 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 Then, getting down off the bench, he retired to a little 
 distance in order that he might see the name to the 
 greatest advantage. 
 
 " Ah ! " he exclaimed, in a tone which showed how 
 gratified he was with what he had done. " It will be 
 many a long year before that wears out, I know, if ever it 
 does. Bravo ! How well the name looks, to be sure ; 
 but there's plenty of room to put something else. Let me 
 see. What shall it be now ? Oh ! I know," he added, 
 after a moment's thought, " that is a capital idea ? " 
 
 Away he went to work, and cut the letters, " escaped 
 from this cell September " and then he stopped. 
 
 "Whatever, now, is the day of the month? Let me 
 think. Oh! yes. Its the eighth. I'll put September the 
 eighth ! " 
 
 A gigantic figure 8 now made its appearance on the 
 wall, and then followed the year, so that, in its entirety, 
 the inscription ran thus, though, of course, not in very 
 well-formed letters — 
 
 Jack Sheppard escaped from this cell September 8, 1721. 
 
 " Now," he cried, " I think that about as daring a 
 thing as ever anyone did, for I am a long way from 
 having escaped yet, though I must do so, or else they will 
 have the laugh against me. Thank goodness, its dark at 
 last." 
 
 The shadows of evening were now creeping over the 
 cell, and by the time he had taken one more look, the last 
 rays of lingering daylight faded quite away. 
 
 But for all that it was not time for him to begin any 
 active operations. The night rounds had to be made ; but 
 that over, all would be well. 
 
 Fortunately he had not long to wait, for they were made 
 always soon after sunset, and then again at midnight, so 
 he counted upon having four hours undisturbed. 
 
 Some more bread and water was put into the cell, and a 
 glance given to the prisoner, to see that he was safe. 
 
 So he was, to all appearance, and they left him. 
 
 No sooner had they gone, than Jack sprang to the door. 
 
 " Its no good trying to get through that," he said. " Its 
 a great deal too strong for anyone to think of such a 
 thing, but I don't think it will be so very hard to get 
 under it. Here goes for a try, at any rate." 
 
 We have before had occasion to remark, that the cell 
 was paved with large stone flags. 
 
 With the point of the file, then, Jack began to pick out 
 the mortar from between the interstices of the one imme- 
 diately under the middle of the door. 
 
 The dampness of the place had had the natural effect 
 of softening the cement, so that he found the job easy 
 enough, and in a few minutes he had dug completely 
 round the stone, so that all which now remained was to 
 raise it from its position. 
 
 Finding all quite silent, he proceeded to disencumber 
 himself of his fetters. 
 
 Half-a-dozen strokes, in as many different places, was 
 sufficient to do this. 
 
 He placed them carefully on the floor. 
 
 Selecting, then, the longest piece of iron in all the lot, 
 he went to work to cut it out. 
 
 His intention was to use it as a crowbar. 
 
 This, too, was a quickly-performed operation, which he 
 had wisely deferred until the present moment. The 
 Bharp steel file cut into the iron, as a saw would into wood. 
 
 At the expiration of half-an-hour, he found himself in 
 possession of a piece of iron about ten inches in long*' 1 '", 
 and three-quarters of an inch in diameter. 
 
 By the aid of this he calculated upon raising the stone. 
 The only fear he had was that it would bend beneath the 
 weight of it. 
 
 This apprehension he soon found was groundless. He 
 inserted one end into the crevice, and by using the lever 
 gently, contrived to lift the stone, so that he could pass his 
 angers under the edge of it. 
 
 Exerting, then, all his strength, ne, although the weight 
 of it was tremendous, fairly lifted it up, and turned it at 
 once on to the floor. 
 
 With some anxiety he now struck at the earth with his 
 file, and was rejoiced to find it was of a tolerably soft 
 character. He was afraid he would find it too hard to 
 force a passage through. 
 
 But it was merely stones and earth tightly packed. 
 
 A laborious task, nevertheless, was before him. 
 
 His intention was to rfig quite under the door, and 
 then, by lifting up another stone, emerge into the passage 
 beyond. 
 
 And all the tools he had with which to execute this 
 arduous task were a file and a piece of soft iron, not a 
 foot in length ; yet he confidently looked forward to 
 success. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD SUCCEEDS IN ESCAPING FROM HIS CELL, 
 AND HAS AN ENCOUNTER WITH A TURNKEY IN THE 
 PASSAGE. 
 
 As though he had some mortal enemy beneath his dagger, 
 Jack stabbed fiercely with his file into the hard impacted 
 ground. 
 
 When he considered he had loosened a sufficient quan- 
 tity, he set to work with his hands to scoop it out. 
 
 And so, with unwearying perseverance and untiring 
 energy, he continued at his work for full an horn*, at the 
 end of which time he had made an excavation large 
 enough for him to creep under the door. 
 
 He had feared that he should find, connected in some 
 way with the foundations of it, some impediment that 
 would have_ obstructed his escape. But no, there appeared 
 to be nothing of the kind, or if there was he had dug 
 beneath it. 
 
 His task could scarcely be said to be half accomplished. 
 The most difficult portion of it by far was yet to come. 
 
 The incredible exertion he had made compelled him to 
 desist awhile, and regain his breath. 
 
 He wiped the perspiration from his head and face. To 
 have looked at him, one would have thought he had but 
 just emerged from a vapour bath. 
 
 Not for long, though, did he allow himself to remain 
 inactive. There was no time to lose, and the amount of 
 peril and hard work he had yet to go through, were suffi- 
 cient to appal anyone. 
 
 He sprang into the hole again, and began his work. 
 
 Fortune at last seemed to favour him. 
 
 The earth under the stones in the passage was not near 
 so hard, nor was it so full of small flint stones, as that 
 beneath the dungeon floor. 
 
 The consequence was that in a short time, and without 
 much adding to his fatigue, he had the satisfaction of 
 seeing the under surface of one of the stone slabs above 
 his head. 
 
 He next proceeded to seek for the crevice round it. 
 
 This found, he carefully picked away the mortar on 
 three of the sides. 
 
 Then, standing upon the mound of earth, he put his 
 back to the slab, and mustering all his strength, slowly 
 and steadily raised it from its position. 
 
 In his hands he held two different portions of his 
 fetters, which he placed under the stone as he raised 
 it, so as to prevent it falling back into its former setting. 
 
 By this means he managed to get it so far liaised as 
 to be able to squeeze his slim body through. 
 
 A sickly sensation came over him as he did so, for 
 the thought occurred to him that, should the mass of 
 stone slip, a frightful death would be the result. 
 
 But he got through in safety, and stood in the cor- 
 ridor r A the old prison comparatively a free man. 
 
 " iSo far all is well," he said, resting against the wall 
 to recover himself again. " I have escaped from the cell 
 at any rate. They will bo rather struck when they come 
 in the morning and find that lar"° hole there, and 
 wonder how I made it." 
 
 " And now," he added, " what step shall I take next ? 
 If I turn to the left that will take me to the door at 
 the end of the corridor through which they brought me. 
 That will be well secured, of course. I must get through 
 it somehow, unless I can find an easier way out by 
 turning to the right. I will try, at any rate."
 
 10* 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 This passage, it must be understood, was in profound 
 darkness, but yet, from having been so long in it, 
 assisted, perhaps, by some peculiarity of vision, he was 
 enabled to see dimly about him. 
 
 He crawled stealthily and slowly to the right aloDg 
 the passage. 
 
 " Oh ! he said, " if I only had a light. I should 
 think it as easy as possible then. But its no good 
 wishing for what I can't have, so I must do the best I 
 can without it." 
 
 Just as he spoke these words he reached the end of 
 the passage. ; 
 
 He moved his hands carefully over the smooth surface 
 in the hope of'" finding a door, but nothing save the 
 cold smooth stones met his touch. 
 
 " That's the end of the passage, I suppose, and getting 
 through that wall would be quite out of the question." 
 
 So he fhought. 
 
 But he never made a greater mistake in his life. 
 
 Oh ! if some friendly power had whispered in his ear 
 the intelligence that if he had set to work upon that 
 wall, and made a breach in it, it would have taken him 
 into the cell boneath Wild's house, in which she whom 
 he loved more than life itself was deposited, bow quickly 
 and energetically he would have set about it ! 
 
 But there was nothing to tell him this. 
 
 He was quite ignorant of what part of the prison he 
 was confined, and whether the wall before him was in the 
 north, east, south, or west portion of it. 
 
 It was in the eastern portion. 
 
 Little did he think, as he stood there, passing his hands 
 over the stonework, that a distance of a few inches only 
 intervened between him and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 But it often happens in life that when we are nearest 
 the object we most desire we know it not. 
 
 Convinced that there was no egress in that direction, 
 Jack Sheppard turned and retraced his steps along the 
 passage until he reached the door of his own cell. 
 
 Then he knew that about forty paces onwards would 
 bring him to the strong, iron-bound door at the entrance 
 of the passage. 
 
 Stepping with as much care as possible, on he went. 
 
 When the jailers had conveyed him to the dungeon he 
 had taken particular notice of the different objects in his 
 route. He thought then such attention would not be 
 thrown away, and the result proved that he was right. 
 
 He remembered, then, that when he passed the corridor 
 door he had descended a short flight of steps. 
 
 Consequently he would have these to ascend. 
 
 This made him so cautious in his progress. He was 
 afraid he should come upon them unexpectedly and fall, 
 which might, perhaps, not only give the alarm, but also 
 do him so much injury as to incapacitate him from fully 
 achieving his escape. 
 
 He lifted his feet only the least bit in the world, and 
 slid them over the stones. 
 
 At last his toe struck against the bottom step. 
 
 Ho was all right now, and he ascended the little flight 
 of steps rapidly and easily. 
 
 They were five in number. 
 
 Upon reaching the top one he put out his hand and 
 touched the door. 
 
 " I wonder now," he thought, as the idea occurred to 
 h%m, " I wonder, now, whether there is anyone the other 
 side of the door ? If there is it will be awkward— very 
 awkward indeed ! I will listen." 
 
 He stooped, and placed his ear close to the panel. 
 
 At first all was silent, and he was about to rise, under 
 the conviction that there was no one on the other side, 
 when a faint sound, like the shutting of a door, reached 
 his ears. 
 
 He again put his ear to the panel. 
 
 Then he heard distinctly a heavy tread, which sounded 
 dismally in that tomb-like place. 
 
 It was the footsteps of one person only. 
 
 The tramp was measured and regular, as that of a 
 person well acquainted with the place. 
 
 Nearer and nearer it came. Evidently in the direction 
 of the door. 
 
 Jack retreated down the steps. 
 
 Tben, as his eyes were on a level with the flooring of 
 the passage beyond, he could see what appeared to him a 
 bright line of bight underneath the doorway. 
 
 Through the monstrous keyhole, too, the light came 
 
 ' p-. 
 
 in a long pencil, and made a small, bright spot on the 
 stones. 
 
 " Some one is coming through the door, I think. 
 Luckily it is only one person, so it may after all turn 
 out a favourable circumstance for me, and yet there may 
 be others within hearing. Never mind, I must risk that. 
 Ah ! he comes." 
 
 The heavy footsteps, which during the last few seconds 
 had become very audible, paused at the door, and then 
 followed the rattling of the key in the lock. 
 
 " I will crouch down here at the bottom of the steps," 
 thought Jack, and he suited the action to the word. 
 " He won't be looking down at his feet, and he will fall 
 over me as sure as fate ; and once down I shall have 
 him at my mercy." 
 
 This was a good idea of Jack's, and one that had 
 every chance of success. 
 
 Hardly, however, had he disposed himself in the posi- 
 tion which he thought would be most effective, than the 
 fastenings having been undone, the door was thrown wide 
 open on its hinges. 
 
 Jack was so placed that he could without moving see 
 who it was that thus approached. 
 
 By his dress he was evidently a turnkey. 
 
 In his right hand he held the bunch of keys which be 
 had just used to open the door. 
 
 In the other was a lantern, which to Jack seemed to 
 emit an unusually brilliant light. 
 
 But that was only a little optical delusion caused by his 
 having been so long in darkness. 
 
 He was almost tempted to rise, for he naturally fell into 
 the mistake that the turnkey would be sure to see him — 
 that, indeed, he could not fail to do so. 
 
 Luckily, however, he remained where he was. 
 
 In the most careless manner imaginable, the man came 
 through the doorway. 
 
 Surely fortune befriended Jack. 
 
 The man turned, and closed the door behind him. 
 
 The fear of an alarm being given was now at an end. 
 
 Not paying any attention to where he was going, for the 
 man had so often traversed the passage he could have done 
 it blindfold, he came down the steps. 
 
 That he should meet with anything at the bottom in 
 the shape of an obstruction never once occurred to him. 
 
 The consequence was just what Jack had expected. 
 
 He did not trust, though, to the man falling over him, 
 but just as he put his right foot on the bottom stair 
 he caught hold of his leg near the ankle, and by a vigorous 
 snatch brought him at once to the ground. 
 
 The man uttered a yell of fright, and then his head 
 reached the hard flagstones with a terrible crash. 
 
 Then all was still. 
 
 The lantern had rolled from his grasp, but was not ex- 
 tinguished. 
 
 Jack rose instantly and took possession of it. 
 
 Then, observing that the man lay without speech or 
 motion, he ventured to approach and examine him. 
 
 He was either insensible or dead, which of the two it 
 was he could not determine, nor did he take much trouble 
 to do so. 
 
 He was powerless to do any mischief, and that was all 
 he cared for. 
 
 " Its a settler, I think," he said, as he saw the blood 
 oozing slowly from a cut in the turnkey's temple. " I 
 hope not," he said ; " but I must either have done what I 
 dicU or else suffered myself to be again made prisoner." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPrARD's ESCAPE IS DISCOVERED, AND THE 
 ALARM-BELL TOLLED. — THE GOVERNOR'S APARTMENTS 
 AND THE WINDING STAIRCASE. 
 
 This was so self evident a proposition that it did not 
 admit of a moment's dispute, and so Jack dismissed the 
 affair altogether from his mind, looking upon it as a 
 necessary evil. 
 
 The circumstance of the jailer coming to pay a visit 
 to the cells, looked at first sight rather an unfavourable 
 one, but it turned out to be quite the reverse. 
 
 At any rate, it was an event that had not at all 
 entered into Jack's calculations, but he seized upon it 
 with avidity, and resolved to turn it to the utmost advan- 
 tage.
 
 BLXJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 109 
 
 His first step was to take possession of the huge bunch 
 of keys which the man carried in his hand. 
 
 Upon examining his girdle he found two other bunches, 
 similar in all respects, and these he took as well. 
 
 Thus provided, many of the doors in the old prison, if 
 not all, were at his mercy. The lantern, too, would enable 
 him to see his route. 
 
 " He is bigger than I am," remarked Jack, pursuing a 
 new chain of thought. " Suppose I was to take off his 
 clothes and put them on over my own ? Why, I should 
 be disguised then effectually, if I took his cap as well, and 
 I might pass muster at a distance for being him. That is 
 a capital thought. I will do it. Fortune is, indeed, my 
 friend to-night. I only hope, after favouring me so far, 
 that she will not be fickle enough to turn the tables." 
 
 Jack rapidly divested the turnkey of his apparel as he 
 gave utterance to these reflections, and as fast as he did 
 so put them on himself. 
 
 The operation was one that consumed but little time, 
 but when it was over the transformation was complete. 
 
 " That will do, I rather think," he said, as he buttoned 
 the large coat over him. " No one now would take me for 
 Jack Sheppard." 
 
 He was right enough there, for what with the garments 
 being too large for him, and the odd shape of the fur cap, 
 which he pulled as far down as he could over his eyes, he 
 looked grotesque in the extreme. 
 
 He took one more glance at the form of the prostrate 
 turnkey, and then seeing him quite still, he turned round 
 and mounted the steps. 
 
 A great many keys, all pretty much the same size, were 
 upon the bunch he held in his hand, and he was a- long 
 \ime before he found the right one. 
 
 In his attempts he took care to make as little noise as 
 possible, for fear that some one might hear the many 
 trials made, and suspect that something was wrong. 
 
 At last he found the right key, and turning back the 
 bolt, he opened the door boldly, and stepped into the pas- 
 sage beyond. 
 
 Then he closed the door carefully after him, and locked 
 it again. 
 
 A hasty glance which he cast around, showed him that 
 he was quite alone. 
 
 Impressed now with the importance of being as rapid 
 in his movements as possible, and that be had not a 
 moment he could afford to lose, Jack strode forward and 
 examined the place he was in. 
 
 It was a kind of chamber in which he stood, from 
 which opened three other doors besides the one through 
 which he had come, and all of the same make and fashion. 
 
 He hesitated, for he knew not which to choose. 
 
 Chance alone could guide him, so he stepped towards 
 the one nearest to him. 
 
 Before ho ventured to try any of the keys, he listened 
 as he had done before, to assure himself that there was 
 no one on the other side. 
 
 But, even while he was thus engaged, he was startled 
 by hearing some one thrust a key into the lock of the 
 door at his left hand — not the one at which he had been 
 listening. 
 
 Discovery seemed all but certain. 
 
 He had but one faint chance, and that was that he 
 might be able to find the key that fitted the lock the 
 first he tried, and then he would be able to pass through, 
 and so avoid coming int« contact with the person who, in 
 another second, would have the door open. 
 
 Jack seized a key at random, and thrust it into the 
 lock. 
 
 Could it be possible ? 
 
 It proved the right key. 
 
 The lock yielded. 
 
 Jack pushed the door open in a moment, and passed 
 through, but not before the other person, whoever he 
 might prove to be, at the other door had entered the 
 chamler or vestibule. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he cried, in gruff tones, as he caught sight 
 of Jack's retreating form. " Who's that ? " 
 
 Jack shut the door, and locked it instantly. 
 
 Then listened. 
 
 The turnkey, whose dnty it was to accompany the one 
 
 who lay in the inner passage in a round through the 
 
 cells, but who, for some reason or other, was late, could 
 
 » not afford the time to look, who it was he had seen, but 
 
 went on. 
 
 In fact, he only called out upon the surprise of the 
 moment, upon finding anyone there at all, and chiefly 
 because the door through which Jack had passed, was one 
 never used by the prison officials, as it led direct to the 
 private portion of Newgate, which was used as a residence 
 for the governor of the prison. 
 
 But this, of course, Jack knew nothing about. 
 
 Still he listened at the keyhole. 
 
 He heard the new comer open a door, and pass through it. 
 
 " If now," Jack thought to himself, " he has opened 
 the door leading to my cell, he will very quickly make a 
 discovery. I will wait here a moment, ana! then see ; for 
 if he' finds the jailor stripped and insensible, he won't be 
 long in making an alarm. 
 
 Jack was right enough there, for a loud shout came to 
 his ears. 
 
 He drew a long breath. 
 
 " There's no time to lose now," he said, " and no mis- 
 take. I may not, after all, get free, but I will make a 
 desperate effort. Where, I wonder, does this passage 
 lead to ? " 
 
 "Help! murder! — murder! help! An*escape ! Break 
 jail ! Help ! — help ! Oh ! murder ! Fire ! " 
 
 " Bang ! bang ! bang ! came some heavy blows on the 
 very door on the inside of which Jack's was. 
 
 The mental agitation of the turnkey must have been 
 very great, or he would at once have unlocked the door, 
 for he carried keys with him. 
 
 But his object just then was to raise an alarm. 
 
 " Confouna him," said Jack, " I wish I could stop his 
 voice ! " 
 
 But that was a thing just then not to be thought of, so 
 he ran along the passage as fast as his legs would carry 
 him, until his further progress was stopped by another 
 door. 
 
 This one was covered over with green baize, and studded 
 round the panels with brass-headed nails. 
 
 Then Jack guessed in a moment that beyond it were 
 the governor's apartments. 
 
 Now this passage was one contrived for the special use 
 of the governor and sheriffs, or other high civil function- 
 aries who were desirous of reaching the cells. 
 
 Jack's situation was a ticklish one. 
 
 The lantern he carried showed him that the door had 
 no fastening of any kind, but swung either way on spring 
 hinges. 
 
 There was, however, a brass handle, which was used to 
 pull it open, and thus, having deposited the lantern on 
 the ground, Jack caught hold of it, and just pulled the door 
 a little way open, so that he was able to see what kind of 
 a place there was beyond. 
 
 It must be borne in mind that though it has taken us 
 some little time to describe all this, it actually occurred in 
 the space of a few seconds. 
 
 The man still continued hammering and shouting. 
 
 On the other side of the green baize door all was in 
 darkness, so Jack picked up the lantern, and slipped 
 through it, and observing a strong brass bolt en the 
 inner side he shot into the socket. 
 
 He was well enough pleased to find that the sounds 
 were very much fainter. He could just distinguish them, 
 and that was all. 
 
 On looking round about him, he found he had quite 
 a choice of routes. 
 
 Straight before him, and within reach of his arm, was 
 an ordinary looking chamber door. 
 
 There was another on his left hand. 
 
 On his right was a flight of narrow winding stairs, but 
 whether it led into the prison or into the sleeping apart- 
 ments of the governor he could not tell. 
 
 He saw this, but felt there was no time to hesitate 
 about routes, for he heard at that moment a sudden rush 
 of footsteps, and an attempt made to open the baize door. 
 
 Preparing himself for the worst, he turned the handle 
 of the door facing him and opened it. 
 
 As he did so a sudden blaze of light reached his eyes, 
 and some one uttered an exolamation. 
 
 Jack just saw that it was a comfortably-furnished room, 
 and that it was tenanted, but that was all. 
 
 "The devil! "he said, and :f'.r* the door with great 
 expedition. 
 
 Crash went the green baize door, and he saw the bolt 
 start from its position. 
 - Then arose th« terrific din of a clanging bell.
 
 
 "110 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 It was the alarm bell. 
 
 The intelligence that a prisoner had escaped would be 
 made known to every one within the building, and all 
 would be on the aleit in consequence. 
 
 Another rush against tho green baize door, and it would 
 give way. 
 
 The springing up of so many difficulties all at the 
 same moment, for a second or two had the effect of de- 
 priving Jack of the power of motion, but quickly recover- 
 ing himself, he sprang up the narrow stairs just as he 
 heard the men effect the demolition of the door. 
 
 The door of the room, too, into which Jack had looked 
 was also opened. 
 
 Owing to the shape of the staircase half-a-dozen steps 
 up it took Jack round a corner, and quite out of sight of 
 any one in the passage. 
 
 lie had slipped the lantern under his capacious coat, so 
 that no beams from that might betray his presence. 
 
 Upon reaching this turn in the staircase he paused, and, 
 stooping down, cautiously peeped over the balusters. 
 
 His gaze rested upon a scene of great confusion. 
 
 On the threshold of the chamber door, which was now 
 thrown wide open, his burly figure boldly delineated by 
 the bright light behind him, was the governor of New- 
 gate. 
 
 Before him, and all speaking at once, were some half- 
 dozen turnkeys. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " laughed Jack Sheppard, silently. " Ha ! 
 ha ! There is going to be a bit of sport, and 1 will stop 
 and see it out." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXV. 
 
 EDGWORTII BESS AWAKES TO THE FULL CONSCIOUSNESS 
 OF HER SITUATION, AND RECEIVES A STARTLING COM- 
 MUNICATION IN HER CELL. 
 
 If Jonathan Wild possessed a heart — and we think the 
 question a very doubtful one indeed— but if, as we say, he 
 did possess a heart, it must assuredly have been filled with 
 exultation when, after having given his instructions to 
 the governor in the manner we have recorded, he descended 
 the steps which led from the door of the prison into the 
 Old Bailey, and directed his steps towards his house — we 
 were going to say home, but we felt it would be profaning 
 so sacred a word to apply it to the thief-taker's residence. 
 
 The street was quite deserted at that early hour, but if 
 any one had met him, the faint light that was in the sky 
 would have shown that his scarred and hideous features 
 were distorted with a grin of intense satisfaction. 
 
 All was well. 
 
 Success had crowned his every effort, and as he took a 
 rapid mental survey of his position, he saw himself com- 
 pletely master of the field. 
 
 The grin changed to an odd chuckling sound, deep 
 down in his throat. The more he thought the more good 
 tempered he grew, and in his extreme delight he quite 
 forgot the pain he had endured, and was still enduring 
 from his wounds. 
 
 Blueskin, once his faithful servitor and second self, the 
 man he had treated with thrice as much consideration as 
 any one, afterwards to turn his foe, was now dead. The 
 terrific blow he had given him upon the head with his 
 heavy hanger at the termination of the conflict in the old 
 abbey ruins, was, he was well assured, a fatal one. No 
 mortal man could possibly survive the effects of such a 
 stroke. 
 
 So far, then, all was well. He felt that while his ex- 
 lieutenant lived, his position would be most precarious and 
 full of danger. During their long companionship he had 
 confided many secrets of great importance to hini- 
 
 But now he was dead. 
 
 Yet it is certain that Jonathan would have been better 
 
 E leased if he had left life in some less agreeable manner, 
 lit he was forced to rest content and console himself with 
 tho reflection that from him, at least, he had nothing more 
 to fear. 
 
 Had it not been for the fear he would disclose his 
 secrets, Jonathan would have liked to have had him regu- 
 larly brought to trial, condemned, and handed over to the 
 mercies of the hangman ; but if Blueskin had escaped 
 this death, there was no reason why Jack Sheppard 
 should. He was safe a prisoner, and he had sworn an oath 
 that he would bring him to the gallows. 
 So much for Jonathan's revenge. 
 
 It was in a fair way of being glutted. 
 Then the young girl, Edgworth Bess. She, too, was in 
 his hands. He could do with her as he could wish. That 
 matter he deferred for future consideration. 
 
 Lord Donmull. How should he act towards him ? 
 Treacherously, of course ! It was not in the villain's 
 nature to do otherwise. He would so manage events that 
 he alone should reap the benefit. Steggs, too : a man 
 with all the inclination to be a« great a villain as himself? 
 His fate he had already resolved upon. Two in the same 
 trade he knew would never agree. His interest with his 
 lordship would counteract his. He would interfere with 
 tho execution of his designs. Therefore he must be put 
 aside. 
 
 But much as the reader may detest Jonathan Wild, w» 
 can scarcely expect him to feel any deep emotions of sym- 
 pathy for Steggs. His villainy was of the worst order. 
 He had no excuse. Overcome in his dying moments by 
 remorse, the man Williams, the poor tool of Abel Don- 
 mull, who had been charged with the murder of the 
 heiress, had called Steggs to his side, and with his expiring 
 breath, discovered the whole matter to him, told him that 
 his heart had failed him — that the young heiress still 
 lived — and though steeped in poverty, existing in an atmos- 
 phere of crime and vice, that she yet was pure and 
 virtuous, and entreated him, for his soul's sake, to make 
 known his confession, and strive his utmost to restore the 
 poor girl to those rights of which she had been so cruelly 
 and unjustly deprived.] 
 
 Steggs promised, and Williams, the man of guilt, 
 resigned himself to die, with a lightened soul. 
 
 But how did Steggs keep the promise he had so solemnly 
 made at so awful a moment ? 
 The reader has seen. 
 
 So, for these reasons, it cannot be expected that much 
 if any pity can be felt for him. 
 
 With his hands clasped behind his back, his head bent 
 down, and his chin resting heavily upon his breast, Jona- 
 than, full of tleep thought, made his way to his own domi- 
 cile. 
 
 In accordance with his custom, he put his hand int<r 
 the breast of his waistcoat for the master-key, and then 
 he recollected with an oath that Jack had stolen it from 
 him, and he vowed fresh vengeance on his head. 
 
 " He shall die ! " he said. " Curse him — he shall swing 
 as his father did before him ! And yet," he added, as 
 he banged furiously at his door, and strode into the hall, 
 " and yet he is a young, brave spirit, and would be in- 
 valuable to me. My revenge will keep, and be all the 
 better for it. I will try to bend him to my purpose, will 
 drag him still deeper down into the abyss of crime, and 
 when he feels that his soul is lost — lost irredeemably — 
 and he is no further use to me, he shall die ! Then, and 
 not till then, shall he grace the triple tree at Tyburn." 
 
 The duty of keeping the front dodr of Wild's house was, 
 as we have before had occasion to remark, taken in turn 
 by his men. 
 
 This time Flood was " on the lock." 
 He opened the door, and closed it without a word, and 
 Jonathan, still muttering his diabolical intentions towards 
 Jack, kicked open the door of his office. 
 
 The place was in perfect darkness, but he was suffi- 
 ciently well acquainted with the position of the different 
 objects in it to dispense with a light, so he walked straight 
 up to the fireplace, and took off the chimney-piece his 
 bull's-eye lantern. 
 
 He ignited it in silence. 
 
 He had an errand to perform which made him full of 
 thought. 
 
 The reader can guess to what portion of his house he 
 w-as going, to require a light. 
 The cells. 
 
 A part of it that was always in darkness. 
 Having the lantern fairly alight, he emerged into the 
 hall again. 
 
 The man at the grating, seeing him approach, opened it, 
 to allow him to pass through. 
 
 It will be remembered that the cell in which he had 
 placed Bess was the one in about the centre of the rest. 
 This was the one he unfastened. 
 His hand shook a little. 
 
 "How is the girl, I wonder," he muttered; " Issue 
 still in a faint ? I should think not. She is young. ani3 
 Nature ought to bring her to without assistance.
 
 BIX'ESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 VA f 
 
 Thus speaking, he entered the cell. 
 
 The poor persecuted girl was lying upon the straw just as 
 he had left her, but the noise he made in entering, and the 
 light of the lantern which he carried aroused her, and she 
 sat up. 
 
 Jonathan Wiid looked at her in silence. He knew that 
 at first her mind must be in a state of great confusion, and 
 he waited until such time as she should be able to recall 
 her thoughts and realize her present position. 
 
 Her beautiful countenance assumed an expression of 
 alarm as she saw the kind of place in which she was. 
 
 Theu her eyes fell upon the thief-taker. 
 
 She recognised him instantly, and with a sudden rusk 
 the memory of all that had occurred came back to her, 
 and she uttered a piercing shriek, which echoed and re- 
 echoed in the vaulted corridor without. 
 
 So distressing were all the circumstances, that for a 
 second time she almost relapsed into a state of uncon- 
 sciousness ; but the harsh grating tones of Jonathan's voice 
 aroused her, and, making a great effort, she sat up and 
 looked him as calmly as she could in the face. 
 
 For the life of bim Wild could not bear that gaze, and 
 he was forced to abase his eyes. 
 
 "Villain!" she exclaimed, " you shall repent of this. 
 Blueskin and Jack will save me." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 There was something very horrible and cold-blooded 
 about this reply, and Bess shuddered. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said Wild again. " Ha ! ha! They will 
 save you, will they ? I doubt it." 
 
 " But I do not," she replied, " and I have faitb in 
 heaven." 
 
 " Good again, good again. That, 1 fancy, will be all you 
 will have to trust to. Blueskin — the traitor Blueskin — 
 ha ! ha ! is dead. I slew him with my own hand, and so 
 you will get small help from him." 
 
 " I will not believe it," cried Bess, passionately. " I 
 have too much faith in the mercy of Providence to believe 
 that it would deprive me of a defender, and leave me to the 
 mercy of a villain Uke yourself." 
 
 " Then, as for your fancy man, Jack Sheppard," con- 
 tinued Wild, unheeding her words, "he is safely lodged in 
 Newgate, and when he leaves it it will be in a cart, and 
 he will take a little journey out of town. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Wild was tickled with his villainous wit. 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked Bess, who, beyond the 
 idea that Jack was in some danger, did not comprehend 
 him. " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " What I say. He is a prisoner on a charge of burglary, 
 which I shall bring against him. He will go through the 
 form of a trial, be condemned, and swing at Tyburn." 
 
 " No — no ! " sbe cried piteously, as she threw herself on 
 her knees at Jonathan's feet. " No — no ! You will not, 
 cannot do such an awful deed." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Tell me that you are only threatening me for some 
 ulterior purpose — that you do not really mean what you 
 say. Speak to me — speak to me ! " 
 
 " Are you willing to listen to reason ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes ! Oh ! God ; yes ! Speak — speak ! " 
 
 " Be calm, then. Jack has no doubt made you ac- 
 quainted with the secret of your life." 
 
 " He has. He told me, too, that you had joined my 
 enemies, and were against me — that you had tried to bend 
 him to your will. But you failed — 3 7 ou failed." 
 
 " Knowing this, then, you must be aware that it is 
 merely by the orders of another that I act." 
 
 " My cruel uncle ? " 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 "And what reward ?" cried Bess, a fresh hope spring- 
 ing up in her mind ; " and what reward does he offer you 
 for doing this ? Tell me its amount, and I will double — 
 ay, treble it — if you will put me in possession of my own." 
 
 Jonathan smiled grimly. 
 
 " You cannot." 
 
 "Cannot what?" 
 
 "Double the reward." 
 
 " Why not ? Surely I have enough for that." 
 
 "No," said Wikl. "My reward will be the sole and 
 undisputed possession of all your wealth and estates." 
 
 " Impossible ! " cried the young girl, with a startled 
 look. " My uncle could not be so foolish." 
 
 " You are green," said Wild. " When you are older 
 
 you will know better. Look at my position," he cried, in 
 an exultant tone of voice. " Blueskin is dead. Jack a 
 prisoner. You a prisoner too, and your uncle so deeply 
 and wholly in my power that he exists but at my plea- 
 sure, and 1 can compel him to act just as I choose." 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVI. 
 
 A MYSTEEI6TJS AND SORROW-STRICKEN OLD MAN SEEKS 
 AN INTERVIEW WITH THE THIEF-TAKER. 
 
 As Jonathan spoke these words he drew himself up to his 
 full height, and looked defiantly around bim. 
 
 Edgworth Bess gazed upon him with the utmost sur- 
 prise and terror. 
 
 " You know now," said Wild, after a brief silence. 
 " That is what 1 meant to tell you. I shall leave you now, 
 in order that you may perpend what you have heard. I 
 shall return in a few hours, and then— ha ! ha ! — then, 
 my dear, I have a little proposal to make to you." 
 
 A hideous leer accompanied these words. 
 
 What did be mean ? 
 
 Bess was terrified, though at what she knew not. 
 
 "*A little proposal which you will do well to accede to, 
 I can assure you, for if you comply with my wishes, I will 
 do what you wish in return. While I am gone think over 
 all I have said, and make what you can of it." 
 
 Jonathan left the cell, and, closing the door behind him, 
 fastened it carefully. 
 
 Edgworth Bess listened to the sound of his retreating 
 footsteps along the passage. 
 
 Then, gi-oping her way back to the straw, she flung 
 herself upon \t, and clasping her hands over her eyes, 
 strove to think. 
 
 Jonathan's words and mysterious behaviour filled her 
 with undefined dread. 
 
 That he had some deep and hidden motive in paying her 
 the visit he did, she knew enough of him to be certain. 
 
 But she found all attempts to speculate upon it fruitless. 
 
 Then the current of her thoughts changed, and with a 
 burst of sorrow she thought of the sad fate of her friend 
 and protector, Blueskin, and the reflection that it was to 
 her that he owed his death, added fresh poignancy to her 
 grief. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, too, who despite his criminality, she 
 loved with all the fond devotion of a true woman's heart. 
 He, too, was in a scarcely better position, for had not 
 Jonathan told her he was doomed to die — to die the 
 most shameful and ignominious of all deaths. 
 
 There she was alone and undefended, without a friend 
 to aid her at the time when a strong arm and a willing 
 heart were most needed to protect her. 
 
 Truly was her situation a wretched cue indeed, and can 
 it be wondered at that she gave herself up entirely to 
 despair. 
 
 Let her turn her mental vision in whatever direction sbe 
 would, she could see not the faintest glimmering of hope. 
 
 The sobs and tears, as bit by bit the forlornness of her 
 condition forced itself upon her, were really heartbreaking. 
 
 There was but one source from which she could draw 
 consolation. 
 
 She knew the indomitable energy of Jack's disposition, 
 and from that knowledge argued that he would make a 
 powerful effort to escape and rescue her from the grasp 
 of her persecutors. 
 
 And so, in a state of mind at times bordering upon 
 madness, but at all times wretched, the day passed 
 away. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, when he left her cell, went up info 
 the hall, and, after a moment's reflection, out cf tho 
 front door. 
 
 " Flood ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. What did you please to want, sir ? 
 I am here at your service, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Ya — ah ! Silence. I shall bo back in an hour." 
 
 " Very good, sir. Oh ! yes, sir." 
 
 Jonathan descended the steps, and Flood, as he closed 
 the door, muttered — 
 
 " The villain. I did hope he was done for, curse him ! 
 I wish I had hit him a little harder than I did." 
 
 It will be recollected that Flood was tho name of tho 
 man who had knocked Wild about so when they conveyed 
 bim to London.
 
 112 
 
 BLUESKIN: A .ROMANCE. 
 
 On this occasion Jonathan's business was of a very ordi- 
 nary and every day kind indeed. The fact was he wanted 
 something to eat. t 
 
 His household was carried on under rather strange 
 principles, and whenever he took a meal there was always 
 one eating-house where he went to eat it. 
 
 This eating-house was in Giltspur-street, facing tho 
 east end of St. Sepulchre's-church, and wad kept by a 
 creature of his. 
 
 Towards it he now made his way. Many Iw»ars had 
 elapsed since he had taken any food, and now he felt him- 
 self sick and faint for want of sustenance. 
 
 The hour was an early one, and few people were in the 
 streets ; still fewer shops were open. 
 
 But Wild knew his wishes were always attended to with 
 the utmost alacrity, let him appear at what hour he 
 would. 
 
 lie found a man taking down the shutters. He seemed 
 only partially awake, and he stopped in his work every 
 now and then and yawned in such a frightful manner that 
 his head seemed in imminent danger or falling off. 
 
 But it is hardly worth while to be so minute as to fol- 
 low Wild into the eating-house, when we have so many 
 stirring and important events pressing upon as for speedy 
 recital. Let it suffice to say, that having eaten enough to 
 satisfy a small regiment, he, in something less than an 
 hour, reached the door of his own house again. 
 
 As he crossed the street, he turned his head and looked 
 up at the church clock. 
 
 It was a few minutes past seven. 
 
 " 1 will go and have three hours' rest," he said. " I 
 feel badly in want of it. Then I shall be able to attend 
 to business in my office properly. I have sadly neglectod 
 it of late, but thank the fates things wDl go on a little 
 smoother now." 
 
 What a mistake. 
 
 But we will not overrun our story, but merely describe 
 events in the order in which they happened. 
 
 In pursuance, then, of. his expressed intention, Jonathan 
 made his way to the bed-room on the second floor, and 
 flinging himself upon the bed, dressed as he was, fell into 
 a profound slumber. 
 
 Then he moved and got his neck bent in some odd way, 
 and began to snore in a frightful manner. 
 
 The door was then cautiously pushed open, and a head 
 Sir us t in. 
 
 Satisfied apparently that he might safely venture to 
 enter, Mr. Ebenezer Snoxall, the apothecary, did so. 
 
 " Ha !" he said, in a whisper, as he reached the side of 
 the bed. " He's asleep now, and no mistake. I had 
 better take the opportunity of dressing his wound, or there 
 will be uo bearing him when he awakes. What a hor- 
 rible noise. I'll shift his head a little, and see if that will 
 stop it. Oh ! ah ! yes. That's it. Capital ! " 
 
 Jonathan's nasal concert ceased. 
 
 The apothecary now, with trembling hands and gentle 
 touch, set about the very unpleasant task he had to per- 
 form . 
 
 But Jonathan's sleep was too profound for it to arouse 
 him, though he several times shouted and moved about 
 uneasily, to the great terror of the man of physic. 
 
 " That's over," he said, at last ; " and now, Jonathan 
 Wild, you can sleep as long as you like." 
 
 He glided from the room like a phantom. 
 
 When Wild threw himself upon the bed and fell asleep, 
 it was with the mental resolution to awake in three 
 hours' time. 
 
 It was just striking ten when he opened his eyes. 
 
 He felt wonderfully better than he had for some time. 
 
 His hearty meal, sound sleep, and careful dressing of his 
 wound had all conspired to produce this effect. 
 
 He rolled off the bed, adjusted his clothes a little, and 
 then slunk down stairs with the stealthy tread of a cat. 
 
 He was in hopes, by coming unexpectedly, to catch 
 some one " on the hop," as he called it, by which expres- 
 sion he meant doing or saying something which he would 
 not be desired to witness. 
 
 But his rascally crew were too wide awake to be up to 
 anything just then. They every moment expected to see 
 him make his appearance. 
 
 Scarcely had Jonathan seated himself at the desk than 
 Wilkinson tapped at the door, and just showed the end of 
 his nose. 
 
 "A visitor, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 " e Yes, Mr. Wild," 
 
 Wilkinson did not know whether to feel pleased or not, 
 but he obeyed. 
 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 " I don't know, sir. He's an old man, and seems to be 
 in very great distress about something. He has been 
 here a great many times, and says his business with you 
 is of the utmost importance. 
 
 " Is he well dressed ? " 
 
 " Not very, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Never mind, I will 6ee him." 
 
 Wilkinson, as the Americans, in their peculiar vernacu- 
 lar, would have said, " made tracks " for the door. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Wild. 
 
 lie had his hand on the knob of the door, but he stopped 
 at once. 
 
 " Wilkinson, come here." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild," he replied. 
 
 He dreaded this pacific demeanour on the part of his 
 employer boded him no good. 
 
 His conscience, too, accused him, for he had been 
 mixing himself up in some little affairs which, if they 
 came to Jonathan's knowledge, would assuredly put his 
 head in the halter. 
 
 Trembling, then, in every limb, and white as ashes, he 
 approached the railings in front of the desk at which Wild 
 was seated. 
 
 " Wilkinson ! " 
 
 " I am here, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You don't seem very well." 
 
 " Me, sir ? Why — a — yes— a — that is to say " 
 
 " And confused ! But don't be afraid, Wilkinson. I 
 believe you are faithful to me, and I don't want to be 
 unjust." 
 
 No ! " groaned Wilkinson, and that was all he could 
 say. 
 
 " You gave me some very important news about the 
 ruined abbey, and, what is more, the information turned 
 out to be perfectly correct." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild," said Wilkinson, brightening up a 
 little, and losing much of his dread. 
 
 " I succeeded in that important business, which I 
 shouldn't have done so easily if it had not been for you." 
 
 "Oh ! Mr. Wild," exclaimed Wilkinson, with a hypo- 
 critical whine." 
 
 " So, to reward you, and encourage you to toll me any- 
 thing else you may think I should like to know, there's a 
 twenty pound note, Wilkinson. Put it in your pocket, and 
 say no more about it." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Wild," gasped Wilkinson, as he clutched the 
 crisp bit of paper. " Oh ! Mr. Wild, you are too good !" 
 
 " The intelligence was important. Let it be an en- 
 courager to you. Hold your row ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Where's this old man you spoke of? " 
 
 " Waiting in No. 2, sir. ' 
 
 " Very well. Bring him in here at once, and don't say 
 another word." 
 
 Wilkinson closed the door. 
 
 " Oh ! I'm blowed ! " he muttered, and he looked at the 
 note which had been given him, and found it genuine. 
 " Johnny's grateful. The blessed world will come to 
 an end after this, and no mistake. What a fool I was to 
 be a frightening myself like that about nothink at all." 
 
 He opened the door of the little waiting-room which 
 was called No. 2. 
 
 Seated in an arm-chair by the fire-place, his face buried 
 in his hands, and wearing every appearance of the utmost 
 sorrow, was an old man. 
 
 What could he want with Jonathan Wild ? 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVII. 
 
 RETURNS TO THE LONELY CHAMBER AT THE TOP OF THE 
 NORTH TURRET OF THE RUINED ABBEY. 
 
 Nothing would please us better than to at once answer 
 the question, but our attention cannot any longer be 
 diverted from some other events replete with interest. 
 
 The reader must exercise that most commendable of all 
 virtues, patience. 
 
 But we promise to keep him no longer than we car help-
 
 ULTJESKIN: A R0M1.HCB. 
 
 119 
 
 gg=sfe ^>gjp^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 [blueskin implores the poachers to spare his life.] 
 
 Leaving, then, the sorrowful and mysterious old man 
 npon the point of being introduced to Jonathan. 
 
 Leaving Edg worth Bess in the silence, solitude, and 
 darkness of her cell beneath Wild's house. 
 
 Leaving Jack Sheppard in his very perilous position 
 mpon the winding staircase in that part of Newgate de= 
 voted to the governor's use. 
 
 We turn to one whose condition was, if possible, 
 worse than all, and of whom we have for so loner lost 
 sight. 
 
 We allude to Blueskin. 
 
 It will be recollected that on the occasion of Wild's 
 sudden irruption into the turret chamber, a conflict had 
 taken place between them. 
 
 The result of that conflict is already known to the 
 reader. 
 
 With one terrific heavy blow of his hanger, Jonathan 
 had beat down his guard, and inflicted a ghastly wound 
 upon his (Blueekin's) head. 
 
 He fell as though struck by lightning, and was left 
 extended on his back for a dead man. 
 
 The fire died out. 
 
 Gradually as she sank towards the west, the moon's 
 rays ceased to shine through the grated windows. 
 
 The chamber was in darkness. 
 
 Presently the sun rose, and gilded with its first rays the 
 crumbling walls of the old ruin, investing them for a 
 time with a more than magic beauty. 
 
 Then, as the god of day climbed still higher and higher 
 in the sky, the golden tint [departed, and an ordinary 
 white one took its place. 
 
 _ At last, even as the moon had done on the precedent 
 night, the sun shone through the turret windows. 
 
 His warm, revivifying beams revealed a frightful spec- 
 tacle. 
 
 His hair matted with blood, which had coagulated 
 round his head, and so stopped the hemorrhage ; bereft of 
 all motion, his eyes wide open and vitreous, the pallor of 
 death upon his face, lay Blueskin 1 
 
 No. 15.
 
 "IH 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 But he was not dead, though life clung to him by but a 
 feeble tenure. 
 
 Still, he gave no signs of life, and no one who gazecf upon 
 him could have come to any other conclusion than that he 
 was a corpse. 
 
 Higher and higher rose the sun, brighter and warmer 
 became his rays, but yet that mutilated form stirred not. 
 
 Oh ! could but some kind Samaritan bave been made 
 aware of the desperate condition of a fellow-creature, he 
 would have hastened to bis assistance, bound up his wounds, 
 and brought him back to life. 
 
 But in that lonely foot-deserted place, what hope was 
 there that any one would come to tend his hurts ? 
 
 Alas ! none. 
 
 His recovery must then be left in the hands of nature. 
 
 The cool autumn day fades away. 
 
 Hope fades with it. 
 
 The deathlike trance has now continued upwards of 
 eighteen hours. 
 
 Had it not so chanced that the blood congealed over the 
 wound, and so stopped its further flow, he must inevitably 
 have bled to death. 
 
 As it was, though, he had lost no inconsiderable quantity 
 of the vital fluid, yet it was not enough to endanger life. 
 
 Obscurer and obscurer grew the different objects once 
 again, until it was impossible to distinguish the form 
 which lay so stark and still. 
 
 No signs of returning animation. 
 
 A north-east wind sighed with a melancholy cadence 
 througli the abbey ruins. 
 
 The leaves of the ivy and other parasitic plants that 
 clung to the time-worn stonework for support rustled 
 ceaselessly. 
 
 The gigantic owls, who had for so long found there a 
 safe and unmolested home,uttered at intervals their strange 
 unearthly cry, too-whoo, too-whoo. 
 
 Dense masses of clouds overspread the heavens, and shut 
 out the radiance of the queen of night. 
 
 But the wind, as it increased in power, sent them scud- 
 ding away until they piled themselves up in a huge bank 
 on the opposite side of the horizon. 
 
 Then the silvery moon and pale, twinkling stars, were 
 brought to view. 
 
 The moon was exactly at the full. 
 
 Through the window in the turret streamed with full 
 force her light, revealing its interior with a seemingly 
 greater clearness than the sun himself. 
 
 In broad and picturesque masses of light and shade it 
 fell. 
 
 The body of Blueskin, looking like some statue, so 
 still and corpse-like looking was it, could be once more seen. 
 
 In the long interval of time no change had taken place. 
 
 His eyes were fixed, and staring blindly upwards. 
 
 The arms outstretched. 
 
 The limbs rigid. 
 
 Is he to die ? 
 
 And as the pale pure beams of the full moon rest upon 
 him there starts up, unbidden to the imagination, the 
 horrible superstition of the vampire. 
 
 That phantom, the bare idea of which colds the warm 
 life-blood about the heart, and causes a clammy moisture 
 in the brain. 
 
 That phantom which perpetuates a loathly life by suck- 
 ing the life-blood from the veins of the young. 
 
 That phantom, immortal, though liable to death like 
 any human being, yet who, upon being exposed to the 
 moonlight, takes presently a new lease of existence. 
 
 That phantom to whom the moon is a god, from whom, 
 from time to time, he draws fresh life and vigour to con- 
 tinue his unholy work. 
 
 Yes, such is the superstition which a contemplation of 
 that prostrate form cannot fail to bring before the mind. 
 
 The silence and solitude of the place. 
 
 The immobility of that spectral-looking shape. 
 
 The bright moonbeams shining with unnatural lustre 
 upon him. 
 
 All these circumstances would lead to such a thoucrht, 
 without any great stretch of the imagination. 
 
 And that idea having once taken firm possession or any- 
 one, how they would have felt the heart still its puhwr 
 tions — how they would have felt the healthy action of 
 their lungs impeded, and the breath sent forth in sudden 
 and fitful gasps — how they would have felt the blood creep 
 through its channels like water, when they saw the deathlj 
 
 object make a slight, almost imperceptible movement. 
 
 Could it be possible that the lunar light contained some 
 resuscitative power ? 
 
 It would seem so. 
 
 The slight movement was repeated. 
 
 It was a strong convulsive shudder of the whole body. 
 
 Then the arms moved, and at last the seemingly dead 
 man raised himself upon one arm, and looked about him. 
 
 All round do his eyes wander, and then, as if under 
 some powerful fascination, they rest upon the moon's disk. 
 
 Very ghastly indeed was the aspect of the countenance. 
 
 A groan came from the white lips. 
 
 Then the factitious strength which had enabled him 
 to rise departed, and he sank down again upon his back. 
 
 But this time he was in possession of his faculties. 
 
 His head was racked with an intolerable pain, which 
 seemed now as if a fiery arrow had pierced his brain, and 
 then as though his skull was falling asunder. 
 
 The effort which he made to recollect who he was, and 
 what had happened last, aggravated these symptoms 
 frightfully. 
 
 Still he did not give up. 
 
 A natural impulse made him carry his hand to his 
 head. 
 
 It was sticky, cold, and wet. 
 
 " I have been wounded," he said. " I have been 
 wounded. How did it happen, I wonder ? Am I still 
 alive, or is this death ? " 
 
 He again struggled to a half-sitting posture. 
 
 This time he was much stronger. 
 
 He had about his brain a dim consciousness of what 
 had occurred, but that was all. Nothing at all resembling 
 distinct recollection. 
 
 Then all at once he became seized with the idea that he 
 was in some imminent danger where he was, and that it 
 was imperative he should escape at once. 
 
 That was delirium. 
 
 In obedience to this instinct, and finding his strength 
 wonderfully increased, he made all speed he could towards 
 the door. 
 
 On his hands and feet he crawled, leaving behind him a 
 track of blood as he went. 
 
 Down the narrow, dark, and steep stone staircase, mis- 
 sing a dozen times by a hair's breath a fall that would 
 then and there have finished his career. 
 
 Through the little door and out into the mazy intrica- 
 cies of the abbey ruins he went. 
 
 Paying no heed to his course — climbing with incredible 
 labour over obstacles he could easily have crawled round — 
 possessed but with the idea that by keeping on he was 
 escaping some great peril, he did not stay for breath, but 
 hastened on. 
 
 The exertion caused the wound in his head to break out 
 afresh, and the hot blood trickled down on to his neck and 
 face. 
 
 Not heeding this in the least — indeed, it is question- 
 able whether he was aware of it— he emerged from the 
 ruins, and plunged into the wood surrounding them. 
 
 Still maintaining the same onward course, vainly ex- 
 hausting his strength, he forced his way through the 
 thickest of the undergrowth. 
 
 The gorse bushes wound his hands, the prickly thorn 
 and wildbriar lacerate his flesh, but he cares not, feela 
 not, so that he still goes onward. 
 
 His sense of hearing, too, is stretched to the utmost, 
 in expectation of hearing some indications of pursuit. 
 
 But in that lonely place all is still. 
 
 And now he reaches the margin of one of those open 
 spaces, which are met with in all woods of great extent. 
 
 He wipes the blood from his face with his hand, won- 
 dering the while what it is, and listens. 
 
 His pulse begins to slacken. 
 
 He oan hear sounds which fill his heart with dread, and 
 convince him his foes are close upon his track. 
 
 The trampling of feet. 
 
 The murmuring of voices. 
 
 Close at hand, too, they seemed. 
 
 With the energy of despair he made a desperate effort 
 to force his way further through the bushes. 
 
 Then he heard the loud report of a gun, and simul- 
 taneously felt a slight shock. 
 
 " I am shot ! " he gasped, and then he sank down upon 
 the earth, having looked, as he firmly believed, for the 
 last time upon the face of nature.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 115 
 
 CHAPTER LXXVIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN ESCAPES BUT FROM ONE PERIL TO FALL INTp 
 ANOTHER. 
 
 And now, from the shadowy sides of the small open 
 space, upon the borders of which Blueskin had fallen, 
 there emerged several dusky forms. 
 
 With slow, stealthy steps, and as though animated by 
 one impulse, they made their way to the centre of the 
 enclosure. 
 
 As they reached it, and stood there in a denst, silent 
 throng, the moonbeams revealed their garb and features. 
 Almost without exception they were attired as farm- 
 house labourers, only there was an air and manner about 
 them which showed they were not those peaceful people. 
 
 The large slouching felt hats which they wore upon 
 their heads concealed a great portion of their features, 
 but what could be seen was forbidding enough. 
 Each man carried a musket. 
 
 They looked anxiously around them, whilst some 
 assumed listening attitudes. 
 
 " All is well, I fancy," said one, in hoarse, guttural 
 accents. " I can hear nothing. I think I had him." 
 " What was it ? " 
 
 " I know not. Some spy, I should think ; but I hope 
 I have put an end to him, though. It was some one 
 sneaking through the underwood, and who would do that 
 but a spy ? " 
 
 " That's right enough," said another. " But why don't 
 you go and see what it is P 
 " Why don't you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! you fired the gun, didn't you ? Go and see your- 
 self. Ha! look there. Hark! What is it? Oh! what 
 is it?" 
 
 The other men, upon hearing these words from their 
 companion, and seeing him raise his arm, looked imme- 
 diately in the direction in which he pointed. 
 They shrunk back and got closer to each other. 
 Some held their guns butt ends upwards in attitudes of 
 defence. 
 
 Then a miserable-looking object, which looked scarcely 
 human, crept out of the shadow of the trees into the 
 patch of moonlight. 
 It was Blueskin. 
 
 When he fell down, as recorded at the end of the last 
 •hapter, it was under the firm conviction that he was 
 mortally wounded. 
 But this he quickly found was not the case. 
 Our readers suspect what had happened. 
 The men in the wood were poachers, and hearing some 
 one forcing a way through the brake, they had taken it to 
 be a spy, and fired in the direction of the sound. 
 
 The gun was only loaded with small shot, only a few of 
 which struck Blueskin on the leg. The remainder flew 
 harmlessly over him. 
 
 Still, in the state in which he then was, the idea that he 
 was killed would be the one most likely to take fast hold of 
 his imagination. 
 
 But, as we have already said, he soon found he was 
 unhurt. 
 
 And now a result occurred which might have been 
 expected. 
 
 The flow of blood from the wound had dispelled the 
 delirium from his brain, and he recollected with the 
 greatest suddenness all that had occurred. 
 
 He rose, although his weakness was excessive. 
 He could hear the sound of voices, and he made his 
 way slowly and painfully towards the place from which 
 they came, with the intention of asking for relief. 
 
 Crawling on his hands and knees, and dragging with 
 the greate.it difficulty one leg after another, he came. 
 
 "Help! help! "he cried. "Mercy! mercy! Do not 
 strike me. I am wounded, I fear, to the death, ?.nd can- 
 not raise my hand in my defence. Save me— save me ! 
 Mercy — mercy ! " 
 
 It was only feebly that he could utter these words, 
 although he strained his voice to the utmost. 
 
 And all the time he spoke he crawled nearer and nearer 
 to the men. 
 
 But as they saw him draw so close they raised their 
 
 guns threateningly, and with hoarse cries warned him 
 
 off. They feared it was but a snare — a portion of some 
 
 deeply-laid plan for their apprehension. 
 
 M No— no 1 " said Blueskin, in a weaker voice, " you 
 
 119 | 
 
 I ask. Help! 
 
 cannot be so inhuman as to refuse me wha' 
 help ! — oh ! help ! Help me, or I die ! " 
 
 " Hold off !" cried the poachers, "hold off! We can 
 do nothing for you. Hold off, or it will be the worse for 
 you ! " 
 
 Blueskin looked up as these unfeeling words reached his 
 ears. 
 
 His gaze met only stern and angry faces, and weapons 
 lifted menacingly above him. 
 He strove to speak. 
 He could not. 
 
 With his right hand he clutched his throat, as though 
 he could have torn away the impediment to speech. 
 
 He made another frantic effort to raise his voice, but a 
 whisper ouly issued from his lips. 
 
 " Gold ! " he said, " gold ! I am rich ! Gold— gold— 
 to those wh o help me ! Mercy ! mercy ! I — I — help — 
 ah ! — he — " 
 
 Uttering these words in a hissing whisper he fell like a 
 log of wood to the ground. 
 
 The poachers looked into each other's faces in alarm and 
 doubt. 
 " Poor wretch ! " said one at last. 
 
 " Let's finish him," cried another, a huge, bull-necked 
 fellow, " we should do him a kindness by putting him out 
 of his misery. What do you say, mates ? " 
 
 He swung his gun, which he had hold of by the barrel, 
 two or three times round his head, in order that he might 
 bring it down with greater force. 
 
 And bring it down he assuredly would — for the remain- 
 der of the gang, looking up to him as their leader, made 
 no sign of dissent — had not a stalwart young fellow sprang 
 forward from their midst, and caught the descending 
 weapon in his hands. 
 
 " No, no," he cried, " I won't stand by and see a help- 
 less wounded man murdered if I can help it. I'll tell 
 you what it is, Jack Adams : hard times, bad masters, 
 and misfortunes may have driven me to be a poacher, but 
 my heart is not dead yet ! " 
 
 " Let go of my gun ! " said the tall ruffian, who had 
 been called Jack Adams ; " what do I care whether your 
 heart is dead or not. Let go of my gun, 1 say, or I'll 
 make you." 
 
 " Never, until you promise to let this man be." 
 " Ho ! ho ! hark, mates ! How long has this young 
 cock been your captain, I should like to know ? " 
 " I say 1 won't see this man murdered ! " 
 " He is a spy, I tell you," cried Jack Adams, " and 
 its a trap to catch us ! Death to the spy ! Isn't that it, 
 mates ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes," cried the others, " down with them both — 
 down with them both." 
 
 " Hold ! " cried Adams : " now I know your minds, all 
 right. Hold off a bit ; the man on the ground can't hurt 
 us for a minute or two, and as this is a little personal 
 affair between George and myself, why we'll settle it." 
 
 " Bravo, Adams ! That's fair ! Give it to him ! We'll 
 stand.by ! A ring — a ring ! Make a ring ! " 
 
 Such were the vociferations which saluted Jack Adams's 
 proposal. 
 
 Anything in the shape of a personal contest was some- 
 thing very congenial to their dispositions, and as the in- 
 tending combatants were the two strongest men in the 
 gang, they looked forward to this one with unusual in- j 
 terest. 
 
 As for the young man, George, he exhibited the utmost 
 willingness to settle the matter in the manner proposed. 
 It was not the first difference he had had with Adams. 
 A ring was quickly formed and seconds appointed. 
 With great speed the men now proceeded to divest 
 themselves of the upper portion of their apparel, and in a 
 minute or two they stood facing each other in the moon- 
 light, stripped to the waist. 
 
 Both were strong, well-formed men, and tolerably 
 matched in all respects save height and length of reach, 
 in both of which Adams had the advantage. 
 
 After a little cautious sparring they flew at each other 
 with the utmost fury, and some heavy blows were ex- 
 changed. 
 
 Then both combatants fell to the ground. 
 They were quickly raised by their seconds. 
 Scarcely waiting to draw breath and wipe the blood 
 and dirt from their persons, they again rushed at each 
 other.
 
 116 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 This time the encounter was fierce and more protracted, 
 but it ended by both kissing the earth as before. 
 
 A rest of a few minutes now became imperative, but 
 when the combatants were again placed face to face, all 
 present felt certain that this, the third round, would de- 
 cide the battle. 
 
 Both appeared to be much injured. 
 
 But their blood was up to fighting point, and they went 
 at it like demons. 
 
 The poachers looked on with the most intense delight, 
 and so absorbed were they that they quite forgot the cause 
 of the duel. 
 
 Backwards and forwards, round and round went the 
 two men. 
 
 It soon became evident George was getting the best, 
 and Adams the worst of it. 
 
 This fact seemed to press itself upon the observation 
 of the latter, for he fought with positive fury. 
 
 George still maintained his calmness, and then, having 
 watched his opportunity, he struck his opponent a tre- 
 mendous blow on the mouth, and down he fell senseless. 
 
 George was the victor. 
 
 Two or three stooped over their vanquished captain, 
 but the majority surrounded George, and overwhelmed 
 him with congratulations. 
 
 " Where is the poor man who asked for help ? " he 
 cried, although be was so much punished that he could 
 hardly stand. " Where is he P " 
 
 " Here, George, and as dead as a nut." 
 
 "No, no, not dead. Pick him up, some of you; I 
 wouldn't trouble you if I could help it. Pick him up, 
 and carry him carefully to my cottage. 'Tain't far from 
 here, you know." 
 
 " All right, George ; we'll do it, my lad. You've got a 
 rare pluck, and no mistake." 
 
 Blueskiu accordingly was raised as gently as their rough 
 hands would permit. 
 
 The movement aroused him. 
 
 " Save me," he cried. " Gold ! heaps of gold to those 
 who save me ! A doctor — send for a doctor, or I shall 
 bleed to death ! " 
 
 " All right, guv'ner. Come along of us. George has 
 licked Jack Adams, so we're going to take you to his cot- 
 tage. Come on, its all right. ' 
 
 More dead than alive, as people say, Blueskin was taken 
 by a narrow, winding pathway through the trees, to a 
 miserable hut in which George and his wife and family 
 dwelt. 
 
 With great care he was laid on the only bed there was 
 in the place. 
 
 George, before he entered, swilled himself well under a 
 pump, so tbat his wife should not see what had taken place 
 the moment he entered. 
 
 " A doctor — a doctor ! ." moaned Blueskin. 
 
 " Here's old Ann," said one of the men, as a decrepit 
 old woman approached the bedside. " Here's old Ann ! 
 She knows more about hurts nor any doctor in the king- 
 dom. Don't you, Ann ? " 
 
 " Get away with you. Get away with you all," said old 
 Ann, in a shrill tone of voice. " Leave me alone with 
 him, and then, if it is possible for a human being to save 
 his life, I'll save it ! Be off with you all ! There must be 
 spoil found to-night." 
 
 In obedience to these words the poachers withdrew, 
 leaving the old woman and George's wife alone with 
 Blueskin. 
 
 Between them they carefully washed and bound up his 
 wounds, to which the old woman applied a dark-coloured 
 ointment, which she assured him would heal the wouad iu 
 a short space of time. 
 
 When this was over she forced some narcotic down his 
 throat, and in less than ten minutes from the time it was 
 administered, Blueskin was in a deep sound sleep which 
 would go far towards recruiting his exhausted energies. 
 
 And here again we must leave him for a time, while we 
 direct the reader's attention to other scenes of the deepest 
 interest. 
 
 CHAPTER LXX1X. 
 
 THE MYSTERIOUS OLD MAN REVEALS HIMSELF, AND 
 MAKES A STRANGE COMMUNICATION TO JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 " Now then, sir, Mr. Wild is waiting to see yon," said * 
 Wilkinson, in more civil tones than he usually made use 
 of; but the fact is the twenty-pound note Jonathan had 
 given him had had a soothing effect upon his system ; " now 
 then, sir, if you want to see Mr. Wild." 
 
 It was to the dejected old man who sat by the fireplace 
 in the waiting-room that he spoke. ^ 
 
 Upon hearing these words the old man subdued the 
 ward manifestations of his grief, and rose to his feet. 
 
 As he thus stood, the most casual observer could not 
 fail to notice that he bore about him the impress of a gen- 
 tleman. 
 
 But his hair and attire were in disorder. His face and 
 hands unwashed. 
 
 On the little finger of the left hand sparkled a ring, and 
 his soiled and torn olothes were of the best workmanship 
 and material. 
 
 What could so strange a being want with Jonathan 
 Wild ? 
 
 Not to unbosom his sorrows to him, one would think. 
 
 Wild was hardly the sort of man to sympathize with 
 anyone's misfortunes save his own. 
 
 Patience, reader. The conversation which took place 
 between the strange pair will explain it. 
 
 Wilkinson led the way to the door of the thief-taker's 
 office, and having ushered in the mysterious old man he 
 withdrew. 
 
 Jonathan Wild bent a keen glance upon his visitor, and 
 was struck with his peculiar appearance. 
 
 On his part, the old man, with a diffidence that seemed 
 native to him, advanced to the railings of the desk, and 
 said tremulously — 
 
 " Mr. Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " That's my name, sir ; what's yours ? Excuse my 
 way, but I have a great deal of business to do, and no 
 time to spare." 
 
 "Just so, sir; my name is Joseph Stansbury. The 
 business I comi' upon is of a very important and serious 
 character." 
 
 " Then if it is in my power you shall be served. Will 
 you be good enough to explain, sir ? " 
 
 " I will in as few words as I can." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 " But I must first ask your advice. I am by no means 
 certain that you either can or will aid me. What is your 
 fee ?" 
 
 " I make no charges," said Wild ; " I am quite ready 
 to hear all you have got to say." 
 
 The strange old man, and who we may as well in future 
 call by his name, Joseph Stansbury, looked at Jonathan 
 in some surprise upon hearing this announcement. He 
 did not know his peculiar mode of carrying on business. 
 
 " Of course, Mr. Wild," he said, " I have heard a 
 great deal about you " 
 
 Jonathan bowed. 
 
 " And your extraordinary skill in tracing stolen goods." 
 
 " Well, sir, what of that ? " 
 
 " It occurred to me, Mr. Wild," replied Mr. Stansbury, 
 with difficulty repressing a sob, " thai as you were so suc- 
 cessful in finding property, you might be equally so in 
 finding persons." 
 
 " You must explain more, sir. I have particular sources 
 of information." 
 
 " So I have heard, Mr. Wild. Well, to be brief, I want 
 you to find my son." 
 
 " Your son ! " 
 
 " Yes ; my only son — my darling ! My ' ear boy ! My 
 only child, William ! " 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 " Nothing ! But how old is this son ? How did he 
 disappear ? As yet, you will remember, you have given 
 me no particulars." 
 
 " I have not ; but I am so bowed down with grief that I 
 hardly know what I am saying, or what I am about. Ha 
 is twenty-three years of age.' 
 
 " A young man, then ? ' 
 
 " Even so." 
 
 " Ha ! " said Wild, with a feelinjr of greater interest.
 
 BLTJKESITT: A ROMANCE. 
 
 137 
 
 " I fancied all the while it was a little child which you 
 had lost." 
 
 " No — no. My trouble is greater than that. He is a 
 young man, jusfc as we may say upon the threshold of 
 life." 
 
 " How did he disappear ? " 
 
 "He came up to London. I sent him on business of 
 my own. Would that I had come myself. Alas ! alas ! 
 could I but ba*e known, and then this would never have 
 happened." 
 
 " He came up to London, you say ?" 
 
 " He did ; and from that hour to this we have never 
 heard aught of him." 
 
 "You must tell me all the particulars, and then I 
 think, from my knowledge of the city, I may get upon his 
 track. From what town did he come, and how long 
 ago ? " 
 
 " He came from Abingdon, Mr. Wild. That is where I 
 live. Do you know the place ?" 
 
 " It is a little village not far from Oxford, is it not ? " 
 
 " It is — it is ! At Water-farm, Abingdon ! " 
 
 " And when did he leave ? " said Jonathan, taking up a 
 pen, and dropping it in the ink. " How long is it since ? " 
 
 " A weary time. Let me see ; I have it here in this 
 pocket-book. On the 12th of last July he left the farm." 
 
 " Nearly two months ago, then," said Jonathan, making 
 a note. To tell the truth, accustomed as he was to hearing 
 all kinds of strange revelations, there was something in 
 this affair that aroused his curiosity. 
 
 " Nearly two months ! It seems to me like two years ! " 
 
 " Indeed. Now, Mr. Stansbury, let me tell you it is 
 a very extraordinary thing for a young man of the age you 
 describe to come up to London and then never be heard 
 of again. Let me hear all, and then 1 may perhaps be 
 aWe to arrive at some conclusion respecting it. Now 1 
 confess myself quite unable to do so." 
 
 " Well, you must know, sir, I had a sudden demand 
 made upon me for the payment of a large sum of money." 
 
 " Yes — yes ! " 
 
 " It was not more than I could pay, you understand, but 
 pretty nearly all I had was then at my bankers, and as it was 
 wanted immediately, and I was very unwell, I sent my son 
 up to London instead." 
 
 Wild nodded. 
 
 " My poor, darling boy. You must know, Mr. Wild, 
 that it falls to the lot of few fathers to have a son like my 
 William ; very few indeed. Have you a son, sir ? " 
 
 A terrific scowl distorted Jonathan's countenance as 
 this apparently simple question was put to him. He had 
 a son — but no matter — he controlled himself, and simply 
 said, in a constrained tone of voice — 
 
 " Go on. What of your son ? " 
 
 " He was all that a parent could wish. I loved his 
 mother, Mr. Wild, for I have a loving heart ; but in gain- 
 ing a son I lost a wife." 
 
 Mr. Stansbury paused from excess of emotion. 
 
 To what point did this strange story tend ? 
 
 It was impossible to imagine. 
 
 Jonathan hurriedly bid him to proceed. The simple 
 question he had been asked about his son touched him in 
 a place he thought invulnerable, for Jonathan had a son, 
 of whom the reader of this narrative will yet learn some- 
 thing new and startling. 
 
 " Three days, Mr. Wild, before I sent my son on this 
 disastrous journey he married a young girl to whom he 
 had been long betrothed. I am entering into all these 
 particulars in order that you may the better comprehend 
 the whole story." 
 
 " It is well to be explicit," replied Jonathan, " but try 
 to be brief at the same time." 
 
 " I will. As his journey would be one of business only, 
 and as he would make it in the shortest time possible, he 
 left his bride behind him. It would, he thought, be unkind 
 to fatigue her with such a journey. Alas ! she has never 
 seen him more." 
 
 Jonathan drew a long breatu. 
 
 The case was growing more complicated, and the clue 
 fce fancied he had found he lost again. 
 
 " Have you any evidence he reached London ? " 
 
 " Yes, the driver of the coach, by whose side ho sat all 
 the way, remembers his alighting at the inn in Piccadilly, 
 where they stop." 
 
 " Indeed ; that is enough. And now about the money. 
 Did he get that ? " 
 
 " He did air. Of course, when we found he did not 
 come back we grew alarmed, and I started off forthwith. 
 My first visit was to the banking-house. A clerk there 
 remembered his calling and receiving the money." 
 
 " What was the amount ? " 
 
 " Six thousand four hundred pounds." 
 
 " When did he receive it ? " 
 
 "On the 14th of July," 
 
 " He started on the 12th ? " 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " No time was lost then ? " 
 
 " None, you see." 
 
 " And he left the bank with the money in his pos» 
 session ? " 
 
 " Yes, I have even' reason to believe he did." 
 
 " And then ? " 
 
 " After that, Mr. Wild, I can find nothing whatever of 
 him. All trace is gone." 
 
 " Extraordinary. 
 
 " Look at me, Mr. Wild ; I came up here six weeks ago. 
 In all that time I have rested neither night and day, but 
 have searched for him unceasingly." 
 
 " And without result ? " 
 
 " Without result ; and so in despair — as a last resource, 
 in fact — I came here to you to ask you if you could assist 
 me to find my poor boy. 
 
 " It is a pity you did not apply to me earlier. I should 
 have stood a much better chance of success then. As it 
 is the scent is cold. Still, do not despair. I feel, I can 
 assure you, a more than common interest in this case, and 
 if he is in London I will guarantee to find him." 
 
 " You fill me with fresh hopes," said the old man, as 
 tears trickled down his cheeks. " Use your best en- 
 deavours, Mr. Wild, not only for a father's sake, but for 
 the poor girl who loves him, and who has not ceased to 
 lament his inexplicable disappearance." 
 
 " But what bank was it ? " 
 
 "The Bank of England." 
 
 " Good ! Now sir, give me as complete a description of 
 your son as lies within your power." 
 
 " I thought you would want that," said Mr. Stansbury; 
 "so while I was waiting for you yesterday I wrote it 
 out. I put it in this pocket-book. Here it is." 
 
 " Very good," said Wild, " that will suffice. Rely 
 upon my doing my utmost for you. I do not think I shall 
 want anything more. I shall send out my agents to make 
 inquiries at once, and you had better call here every day 
 to know the result." 
 
 " And what wiU that cost, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 " Wait until the job is completed," said the crafty thief- 
 taker. " If I restore your son to 3 r ou, I can rely upon 
 your gratitude to reward me." 
 
 " You can — you can indeed. I hope and trust your 
 efforts will prove more successful than mine." 
 
 Wild summoned Wilkinson in his usual fashion. 
 
 " Show this gentleman out," he said. " He will call 
 again to-morrow." 
 
 With a lighter heart than he had had for some time 
 past Mr. Stansbury left Wild's house. 
 
 As the door closed behind him, Jonathan rested his 
 chin in the palms of his hands, and gave himself up to 
 deep thought. 
 
 "What am I to think of this affair? I am puzzled. 
 Still I am glad it has been put into my hands. It will 
 afford me an opportunity of making a great stir about 
 doing good, and it is only by resorting occasionally to such 
 means that I can hope to succeed in blinding their eyes to 
 these other practices. I will set about it now." 
 
 Wilkinson is again summoned. 
 
 " Where is Pinching Tom ? " 
 
 "Here, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Send him in." 
 
 Our old friend, of whom we have not heard for so long, 
 entered. 
 
 Jonathan called him to his side, and gave him his in- 
 structions in a low tone of voice. 
 
 What they were will be developed. 
 
 " I quite understand, Mr. Wild. It shall be done, 
 though it is a queer thing altogether."
 
 118 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXX. 
 
 LORD DOMMULL'S REMORSE AND REPENTANCE "•». BUT 
 OF SHORT DURATION. 
 
 " Come in ! " roared Jonathan, in reply to a faint tap-tap 
 upon the panel of his office-door, about ten minutes alter 
 Pinching Tom had taken his departure, " come in." 
 
 " Quilt Arnold, Mr. Wild," said Wilkinson. 
 
 " Has he his prisoner ? " 
 
 " Yes sir." 
 
 " Tell him to take hi.., to No. 7, and there lea»e him 
 until further instructions." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Is anyone else waiting for me ? " 
 
 " The gentleman who went with us last night." 
 
 " Send him here, then ; but stop a moment. Did ho see 
 Quilt bring in the prisoner ? " 
 
 " No, sir, I took care of that. He is in No. 2, with the 
 door shut." 
 
 "Right; I'll come myself." 
 
 Jonathan got down off his stool, and stalked into the 
 passage. 
 
 The first thing that there met his view was the prisoner 
 Quilt Arnold had brought in. 
 
 Who that prisoner was the reader can perhaps guess. 
 
 It was Lord Donmull's accomplice, Steggs. 
 
 A glance of mutual hate passed between these two men, 
 but as he was gagged Steggs could not speak, and as for 
 Jonathan he disdained to do so. 
 
 " Take him to No. 7, Quilt." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; he has given us a great deal of trouble." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " He has, indeed." 
 
 " 1 don't doubt it, Quilt, only I laughed ' ha ! ha ! : be- 
 cause I thought", just as you spoke, bow soon his troubles 
 would be over." 
 
 "Ho! ho!" 
 
 Arnold thought he had better laugh at Wild's plea- 
 santry. 
 
 But he soon repented it. 
 
 Jonathan had his cudgel in his hand, and he hit him a 
 rather sharp crack with it, as he said — 
 
 " Don't laugh when I do, Quilt ; recollect that in future. 
 Into No. 7 with him." 
 
 Quilt rubbed his head, and dragged the struggling 
 prisoner off, whose doom Jonathan considered quite 
 sealed. 
 
 As soon as they had fairly departed, Wild went to the 
 door of the little waiting-room, and opening it a few 
 inches peeped in. 
 
 Lord Donmull was looking out into the street as well 
 as the smoke aud dirt-begrimed panes would let him. 
 
 " Good morning, my lord," said Wild. " Sorry to keep 
 you waiting. Come upstairs." 
 
 Abel Donmull followed Jonathan up the stairs to the 
 room in which he had sat during a former interview. 
 
 He glanced uneasily around, and sank into a chair. 
 
 " You don't look well, my lord," said Wild, as he, too, 
 took a seat, and noticed the ghastly paleness of his lord- 
 ship's countenance. " What is there amiss now ? " 
 
 " Nothing more — nothing more." 
 
 " Then all is well. Pour out some brandy, my lord ; 
 you will be better then." 
 
 " The girl ? " 
 
 " She is safe underneath this house," wa8 the reply. 
 " Where," he added, in a lower key, " for a consideration 
 she can remain until such time as you may think fit to 
 order her release." 
 
 " Wild, Wild," said Lord Donmull, remorsefully, " my 
 life is a miserable burden to me. I am racked by a thou- 
 sand hopes and fears. If this state of mind continues I 
 shall wear myself into the grave." 
 
 " Beyond all doubt you will if you do not rouse yourself 
 from these gloomy fancies and baseless fears. Pluck up 
 your spirit, for now is the time to do so. You have all in 
 your own hands now ! You can secure yourself in any way 
 you may think proper." 
 
 " Wild ? " 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 " She is quite safe, you say ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " How does she seem, Wild ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, my lord ? " 
 
 " Do you think, do you think that if I went to her, Wild, 
 
 and told her what I had done — do you think she would 
 forgive me, and be content to receive back her own." 
 
 " Are you mad ? " 
 
 " No, no, not mad, but sick at heart. Show me where 
 to find her, Wild, and I will make the attempt." 
 
 " Calm yourself," said Jonathan, with a derisive grin. 
 " Calm yourself. You must be mad to think of such a 
 thing. Besides, I cannot allow you to make such an 
 offer." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Do not storm. It will have no effect. I simply mean 
 what I say. I cannot allow it." 
 
 Lord Donmull looked at Wild with speechless surprise. 
 
 " You seem to forget, my lord, the little bargain between 
 us. I cannot afford to waste my time to no purpose, and 
 if you resign your possessions, how are you to fulfil your 
 contract. Cease to think of it. My lord, you are wholly 
 in my power." 
 
 " Lord Donmull sat aghast when he saw how deeply he 
 was committed to the villain before him. 
 
 He repented of his misdeeds. 
 
 Would have made all the reparation in his power. 
 
 But, like many others, his repentance came too late. 
 
 " To-morrow,*' continued Wild, after a pause, " you 
 will be calmer, and then you will feel thankful to me for 
 having acted in the way I have. The excitement of the 
 past few days have been too much for you. You must 
 have rest and quiet for a time, and then all will be well. 
 You can have nothing whatever to fear so long as you 
 keep your word to me. The girl's safe custody I will 
 answer for." 
 
 " Where is Steggs ? " 
 
 " He, too, is quite safe. Drink, my lord. Success to 
 yourself — confusion to your foes ! " 
 
 Jonathan pushed a brimming glass of brandy across the 
 table. 
 
 Lord Donmull took it with a quivering hand, and, 
 putting it to his lips, drained the contents at one draught. 
 
 The effects of so large a quantity of raw spirit were just 
 what might have been expected. 
 
 His remorse vanished, and he became the bold unscru- 
 pulous man he had ever been. 
 
 Jonathan watched him anxiously. 
 
 He was playing a very deep game, was Wild. The stakes 
 were high, for, as will be seen, he aimed at the possession 
 of the entire estates. 
 
 Therefore it would not suit his purpose to let Abel come 
 in contact with the persecuted heiress, much less in the 
 humour he then appeared to be. 
 
 " I am old, Wild, now," he said; " I have no children 
 of my own ; I cannot hope to retain much longer the es- 
 tates and wealth I have held wrongful possession of for so 
 many years. Therefore I wish, ere it be too late, to atone 
 for what I have done." 
 
 " Still harping on the same string." 
 
 " I cannot help it ! God knows, I cannot help it ! " cried 
 the wretched man, as he sprang nervously to his feet and 
 paced the room. 
 
 Surely what he then saw ought to have made Jonathan 
 aware that there is such a thing as retribution for evil 
 deeds in this world, and that punishment of sins begins 
 on earth ; but he did not. He only mocked at his com- 
 panion's weakness, for so he termed it. 
 
 " I shall have some trouble with him yet, I am afraid ; 
 curses on his pusillanimity. I will make another attempt, 
 and see how far I am successful." 
 
 Lord Donmull had again thrown himself into his 
 chair. 
 
 " Look here, my lord. Listen to me." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " You are out of health. The harass of the last few 
 weeks, coupled with the fatigue you have undergone, has 
 worn you out. A few days' rest will put all right again, 
 and then I shall hear you thank me for persuading you to 
 ac; as I do." 
 
 " What do you advise ? " 
 
 "In the first place to make a strong effort to dismiss i.h» 
 whole of this business from your mind." 
 
 " I cannot." 
 
 " Youmnst try." 
 
 " I tell you I cannot." 
 
 " But what have you to dread ? 
 
 His lordship was silent.
 
 BLT7ESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 11* 
 
 ■ Drink, my lord, and listen. Including our two selves 
 there are six persons acquainted with your secret ! " 
 
 " Six persons ! What " 
 
 " Wait and hear me out. From yourself and f rom me 
 you ought not to dread anything. That reduces the 
 number to four." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Blueskin, or Blake, as I believe his name wai, is dead. 
 You saw me strike him down with my own hand." 
 
 " I did — I did ! I shudder now when 1 think of that 
 night's work ! " i 
 
 " Pho — pho ! That, then, reduces the number to three. 
 Now listen, and I will tell you the situation of those three 
 persons, and show you how powerless they are to do you 
 any mischief. Are you listening ? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " First, then, there is Steggs. For his fate, let it be 
 what it may, you cannot possibly feel any compunction. 
 He is my prisoner. I hold his life in my hands. Do you 
 fear him now ? " 
 
 " No," replied his lordship, shuddering, " No." 
 
 " Of course not ; and the number is reduced to two. 
 One is Jack Sheppard, the young villain who mauled you 
 so, and prevented your succeeding in your first attempt." 
 
 " Curse him, yes ! he stole my watch, too, which I 
 would not have parted with for a hundred guineas .' " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! my lord, you get the better of your fears 
 when you think of your revenge ! It is only natural. I, 
 too, have a score to settle with that individual! At the 
 present moment he is a prisoner in one of the strongest 
 cells of Newgate, charged with the commission of a 
 burglary, which charge I can substantiate. His fate may 
 be looked upon, then, as settled ; so the six persons who 
 hold your dangerous secret are reduced to one, and that 
 one is a poor weak girl, also a prisoner in my power. 
 Say, then, would it not be cowardly in the extreme to 
 give in when all is so secured within your grasp. Am 1 
 to have all the trouble of bringing things to their present 
 successful point for nothing ? You could not wish such a 
 thing! Say but the word, and your niece shall be removed 
 from your path by death, or if taking her life is repugnant 
 to you, she can remain as long as you think proper in her 
 present habitation. Or steps may be taken to induce her 
 to sign a legal transfer of all her estates to you. But you 
 are not equal to the task of deciding now, therefore I say 
 let things remain as they are awhile ; they can safely do so." 
 
 " I will, Wild, I will ! " 
 
 Lord Donniull rose as he spoke. 
 
 " Oh ! " he added, " if I had a mind, a heart, a head 
 like yours, I should be happy." 
 
 " Shake off your groundless fears ! Seek change of 
 scene, do anything to keep this from your recollection, 
 until, feeling calmer, you can return to me, decide what is 
 to be done, and the matter will be then entirely settled." 
 
 " I will ! I am much better and firmer now. Good 
 day, Wild, good day." 
 
 Good day ! " replied Wild, as he showed him out. 
 " The weak-headed fool ! " he added, mentally, " but he 
 deserves to perish, and perhaps it is better as it is. My 
 path may be all the easier and smoother for it. I must 
 have a few hours quiet thought before I shall be able to 
 decide upon the best mode of action. But the estates 
 shall be mine, wholly mine ! I swear it ! I will then 
 quit this mode of life, for I am getting sick of it, and if I 
 am not careful the government, whose ready and unscru- 
 pulous agent I have for so long been, will turn against 
 me, and I shall perish ! But I will guard against such a 
 contingency as that, for with such wealth as I should then 
 possess I should be able to defy them all. I will think — I 
 will think." 
 
 Jonathan seated himself at the table, and, clasping his 
 head in his hands, he gave himself up to profound and 
 lengthened thought, and took a survey of his present and 
 future prospects. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD PROCEEDS TO EXECUTE A FOULER CRIME 
 THAN ANY OF WHICH HE HAS YET BEEN GUILTY. 
 
 It is night in Jonathan Wild's house in Newgate -street 
 
 From no window in that wretched habitation beams 
 forth the faintest ray of light. All is as dark and cheer- 
 less as the minds of the poor prisoners who languish in his 
 cells. 
 
 The oil lamp in the hall is burning dimly. It casts 
 around it strange, oddly-shaped, moving shadows, such as 
 would fill the nervous with alarm. 
 
 Tonks is on the lock. 
 
 He is not actually asleep, but in a half conscious state, 
 from which the least sound or motion would be sufficient 
 to arouse him. 
 
 At the iron grating leading to the cells is, as usual, 
 seated another of the gang. 
 
 Down the dark staircase which creaks beneath his tread 
 comes a human form. 
 
 His steps are stealthy, but the two men on the watch 
 hear them, and are on the alert accordingly. 
 
 The dark figure finishes the descent of the stairs, and 
 stands in the gloomy hall. 
 
 The iron lamp gives out sufficient light to reveal him 
 plainly, and one ray in particular falls upon the face — 
 that face which it would be impossible to mistake. 
 
 Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He sees Tonks is awake, and turning to the man at the 
 grating, finds him awake also. 
 
 " A lantern," he said to the latter, " quick ! " 
 
 The man took from under the seat upon which he sat a 
 lighted bull's-eye lantern, which he gave into his employer's 
 hand. 
 
 Then he unlocked the grating, and held it open to allow 
 him to pass through. 
 
 Wild's errand was to the cells. 
 
 But why did he choose that lone and silent hour of the 
 night to execute it ? 
 
 That was best known to himself. 
 
 For certain is it a villainy of no ordinary kind that he 
 meditates ; for as he creeps along the corridor, his limbs 
 tremble, and he difficultly draws his breath in short 
 unequal gasps. 
 
 Is the cell in which Steggs is confined his destina- 
 tion ? 
 
 No, for in his progress the light falls upon the door of 
 No. 7 ; not there does he pause, but keeps on and on 
 until the middle of the passage where the lamp hung is 
 reached. 
 
 There he stops. 
 
 All around him is very still. Without any great effort 
 of the imagination, he could fancy himself the sole inhabi- 
 tant of some subterranean city of the dead. 
 
 He can hear his own breathing, and the rapid and 
 irregular beating of his own heart. 
 
 He takes from his pocket a rather large-sized key, 
 and, holding it in his grasp, approaches one of the cell doors 
 with it. 
 
 His hands shake. 
 
 The key rattles in the keyhole. 
 
 The lantern casts strange moving shadows on the 
 walls. 
 
 The tremulous motion of Jonathan's hands gradually 
 communicates itself over his whole body, and he trembles 
 from head to foot. 
 
 What can it be that bold bad man is about to do ? 
 
 Surely one would think there was no crime or evil deed, 
 the commission of which would produce such an effect 
 upon him. 
 
 But that such was tho case there was abundant evi- 
 dence. 
 
 From this it must be certain that the guilt is of more 
 than ordinary blackness. 
 
 At length, after some fruitlessi efforts, he controlled his 
 nervous agitation, and succeeded in introducing the key 
 into the lock. 
 
 The bolt was shot back. 
 
 The door flung open. 
 
 Then a faint cry of affright and aversion reaches his 
 ears from the interior of the cell. 
 
 The voice was feminine. 
 
 The cell which he thus entered, then, at that dead hour 
 of the night was the one in which Edgworth Bess was 
 confined. 
 
 Jonathan, casting from him all remnants of human 
 nature, then strode into the cell. 
 
 He placed the lantern on a little bracket high up in the 
 wall, in such a position that its light was tolerably well 
 diffused about the dungeon. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had upon his entrance risen to her 
 feet, and shrank back as far as she could into one corner 
 of the cell.
 
 120 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 The shadow of some frightful coming evil, which It 
 would be out of her power to avert, had cast itself over 
 her soul. 
 
 Wild contemplated her for some moments in silence, 
 and then he uttered the one word — 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Bess fixed her eyes upon his face, and, by an effort, 
 commanded her voice. 
 
 " Why do you come here ? " she asked. " Seek hot to 
 tempt me. It will be of no avail." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" laughed Wild, reassuming his 01 binary 
 brutal manner to a great extent. " Ha ! ha ! You do not 
 know what good is in store for you. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Good ? " said Bess, " that I am sure can never come 
 from you to me, for we are enemies ! " 
 
 " You don't know that, girl," said Jonathan, approach- 
 ing her. " Don't shrink back. You have nothing to fear ! 
 After the little explanation which I gave you this morn- 
 ing, and which of course, by this time, you have atten- 
 tively considered, you will be able, without any difficulty, 
 to understand me ! " 
 
 " I do not wish to do so. I am here your prisoner, and 
 as I am well aware, in your power ! " 
 
 "Ha! ha! You admit that ? " 
 
 " I do, but yet I will not believe that all the rest is as 
 you have told me, but cling with my latest breath to the 
 belief that Jack or Blueskin will rescue me from this 
 place." 
 
 " I am not afraid of them," said Wild, " knowing well 
 how very safe and out of all power of doing mischief they 
 are. Listen to me ; I have thought much, and have come 
 to a determination from which neither heaven nor hell 
 shall move me." 
 
 " Impious villain ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! you shall know it, my dear — you shall know 
 it, for I can assure you it very intimately concerns the 
 pair of us. Ha ! ha ! Guess, now, what it is ! You 
 women are quick in taking hints, and clever at arriving at 
 conclusions by intuition. Ha ! ha ! What do you think 
 is my determination ?" 
 
 " I do not wish or care to know ; but that it is rascality 
 of some description I already know you well enough to 
 feel confident." 
 
 " We are complimentary to each other. All this, how- 
 ever, is folly and waste of time. Come here, girl, I say, 
 and listen ! Your uncle is wholly in my power, and he 
 only lives at the present moment because it suits me to 
 let him do so. I can prophesy that he will not five to be 
 a patriarch." 
 
 Bess shuddered, and strove to shrink yet further away, 
 but Wild, springing forward, caught her by the arm, and 
 drew her towards him. 
 
 Shriek upon shriek came from her lips as she found his 
 hand upon her, and she struggled violently to get free. 
 
 So shrill were the tones, that Jonathan could not make 
 his voice heard above them. 
 
 " Silence ! " he yelled. " Silence ! or I will do you a 
 mischief. Do you hear me ? be silent ! " 
 
 Her dread that he might lay his hands upon her more 
 than he had already done made her quiet. 
 
 " That is reasonable of you, and still further display 
 your good sense by listening to me. If it is possible I 
 should like to use you gently, but if you provoke me to 
 violence the consequences must be upon your own head." 
 
 Bess deemed it prudent to obey him. Indeed, so great 
 was her terror that she was scarcely aware of what she 
 was about. 
 
 This compliance with his demand pleased Wild. 
 
 " You know as well as I do," he said, " that you are 
 the heiress of immense estates and wealth to no inconsider- 
 able amount. You are the last of your race. Now I 
 alone have the power of restoring to you your possessions. 
 1 1 is impossible for you to obtain them except with my 
 assistance. This assistance 1 am ready and willing to 
 afford you if you will accede to my proposals. Speak ! 
 will you do so ? " 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 Wild hesitated when the question was put to him. 
 
 Bess noticed it, and wondered what infamy there was 
 behind his proposition. 
 
 She repeated her question. 
 
 " I may as well tell you at once," said Nf ild. "The 
 proposal is a very easy one. It is that you become my 
 wife!" 
 
 "Your wife?" repeated Edgworth Bess, shuddering 
 with horror at the bare idea. " I your wife ? " 
 
 " Yes ; Mrs. Wild, you know ! Mrs. Jonathan Wild ! 
 Come, my dear. When you know me I am sure you will 
 like me better than thafc young villain, Jack Sheppard. 
 Co«ne, say yes, and all will bo well. You shall quit this 
 ui\ mgenial cell for a place suited for you " 
 
 " Silence ! " cried Bess. " Never could I have believed 
 that you would have had the audacity to make so bare- 
 faced a proposal to me. Let one word suffice. Know 
 that I reject your terms with the utmost disgust and con- 
 tempt. Leave the cell ! " 
 
 Jonathan's brows lowered. 
 
 His countenance darkened, and assumed a demoniac 
 expression. 
 
 " Beware ! " he said, in a deep, hoarse voice, " beware ! 
 You seem not to remember that I am master here — that 
 you are wholly and entirely in my power ! " 
 
 " I care not ! My resolve is unchangeable ! Rather 
 than consent, I would die a thousand deaths ! " 
 
 " Beware ! " said Wild again, and atill more ominous and 
 awful became the expression on his face. " I have told 
 you that it was my wish to act gently towards you. I 
 have offered you fair means. You have scorned me. The 
 result will be that I shall have to use force — foul means 
 to compel you to comply -with my demands. If you 
 repent afterwards the fault will be no one's but your 
 own ! " 
 
 " Heaven help me ! " 
 
 " You have need of such a prayer. Be wise, and yield 
 at once. I am determined to achieve my purpose. You 
 shall bo my wife, and the Donmull estates and wealth 
 mine — mine ! " 
 
 " Help ! help ! " shrieked Edgworth Bess, as though 
 there was the horrible consciousness upon her soul that 
 there was no help for her. " Help ! help ! Mercy ! 
 mercy ! " 
 
 " Do you consent ? " 
 
 " Never — never ! " 
 
 " Then, as I have told you, the consequences will be 
 upon your own head. I can force you to yield, and I will 
 do so. Do not look for any consideration from Jonathan 
 Wild ! Consent, then, to be my wife, or ere you are another 
 hour older, you shall implore it as a favour at my hands." 
 
 With a great effort Bess preserved her consciousness, 
 but it was only the conviction that if she swooned she 
 would be wholly at his mercy that enabled her to master 
 the feeling, and with a boldness that surprised even her- 
 self she repeated her refusal. 
 
 " You must take the consequences, then ! " said Wild, 
 and he seized her in his powerful arms. 
 
 In his grasp she was like a child in the hands of a 
 giant. 
 
 Still she struggled as well as she could, but, alas ! 
 vainly. 
 
 The villainous thief- taker forced her down. 
 
 But just when he was about to achieve his purpose, he 
 heard the hasty rush of footsteps, an exclamation, and 
 then some one seized him by the throat. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD RATHER. ASTONISHES MR. NOAKES AND 
 THE TURNKEYS. 
 
 We think it quite time we returned to Jack Sheppard, 
 whom we last left in such a ticklish position in Newgate. 
 
 It will be recollected that he only ascended the stairs 
 fir enough to take him round the first turn in them, 
 and then he had crouched down and peeped cautiously 
 over the balusters at the scene which was taking place 
 below. 
 
 The governor, with an air of great bewilderment, was 
 standing on the threshold of the room, the door of which 
 Jack had opened. 
 
 In the passage were some half-dozen turnkeys, who, 
 having completely demolished the green baize door, were 
 i endeavouring to tell him what had taken place. 
 
 Then Jack had made a mental remark^ about there 
 being some sport, and had announced his intention of 
 staying where he then was in order to see it out. 
 
 Now, however daring this resolution might be, and 
 however much it may be admired on that account, yet 
 it is very certain that it was anything but a prudent one. 
 
 But Jack had very little prudence. On the contrary, a
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD ASTONISHES THE GOVERNOR OF NEWGATE.] 
 
 •eckless bravery and insane contempt of danger were two 
 prominent fealres in bis mental company >, and^o 
 they continued to be tbrougbont tbe wbole of bis extra- 
 ordinary and unparalleled career. 
 As all know, it proved bis downfall in tbe end. 
 Now Jack, on tbis occasion, thought it tbe finest thing 
 in tbe world to do as be did. He looked upon it as a 
 capital piece of fun. . ,. 
 
 The tbougbt of bow mucb be migbt jeopardize bis 
 cbance of escape never troubled bim for a momeiit. 
 
 So leaning over, as we bave said, he looked with the 
 grStestTuriosity 'and interest on tbe actions of bis 
 enemies below. , v,.^*- 
 
 He took espedal care, thougb, not to make -VAg* 
 noise, or permit any gbmmer of the lantern to escape 
 that might betray bis presence. 
 
 « What is it ? " roared the governor as be looked at ^the 
 turnkeys and the demobshed door. Wbat is it, I say t 
 « Break jail, Mr. Noakes ! break jail ! Smytbies is in 
 
 tbe corridor witb all his clothes stripped off bim, and hia 
 
 H^tafCscaped? Somebody opened my door just 
 now peeped in, and then shut it again. 
 
 « He must be close at hand," said a voice. 
 
 thought it was bigb time be retired, so ue 
 
 doing so at once. 
 
 But be moved slowly and cautiously. . ^ was 
 
 And well it was he did so, for on tbe topmost suur 
 
 No. 16
 
 1-22 
 
 BI-UESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 some object, which, if he had come upon it unawares and 
 suddenly, would certainly have thrown him down and 
 made discovery certain. 
 
 That object was one which, on the staircases of idle 
 and untidy people, is often found, to the great peril of 
 those who might be ascending or descending. 
 
 It was an iron pail. 
 
 Jack could not at first make out what it wa3 that stood 
 in his way, but there came up sufficient light from the 
 hall below to show him upon a second glance. 
 
 Then an idea darted into his head that he might with 
 it disconcert his enemies, who, he could hear, had already 
 commenced to mount the staircase. 
 
 He put down the lantern, and took up the bucket. 
 
 By the weight it evidently contained some liquid, but 
 what he did not care. 
 
 To descend about half-a-dozen of the stairs and peep 
 over the balusters took him but a second. 
 
 " Hoy ! " he cried at the top of his voice. 
 
 The effect of this was to make those who were ascend- 
 ing pause suddenly upon the impulse of the moment. 
 
 Then, before they could recover from their surprise, he 
 caught hold of the bucket by the handle and the rim at 
 the bottom of it, and flung the whole of its contents in 
 their faces. 
 
 The water came from a sufficient height to dash with 
 a considerable degree of force into their faces, and they 
 staggered back. 
 
 Then, to complete their discomforture, Jack threw the 
 bucket down, and without waiting to see where or upon 
 whom it alighted, sprang up the stairs, caught hold of the 
 lantern, and seeing the staircase led up to another story, 
 mounted it without hesitation. 
 
 The cries of those who had had this unexpected attack 
 made upon them quickly brought others to the spot, and, 
 instantly surmising what had happened, they rushed up 
 stairs in a body after the escaping prisoner. 
 
 Jack had just reached the landing on the second story 
 when he heard them. 
 
 He paused, undecided. 
 
 " I shall have some trouble now," he said ; " I am like 
 a rat in a laige trap, and it will be no easy matter for me 
 to find an outlet. What shall I do ? " 
 
 There were several doors opening from the landing 
 upon which he stood, and also a narrower flight of stairs 
 leading apparently to the top rooms in the house, for it 
 was in that part of Newgate which was specially set aside 
 for the domestic requirements of the governor that he now 
 found himself. 
 
 Whether it would be better to ascend the remaining 
 stairs, or to seek some hiding place in one of the rooms on 
 the second story was rather a serious question. 
 
 But he had uo time for consideration. 
 
 His pursuers in a moment or two would be upon him. 
 Therefore it was necessary he should immediately decide. 
 
 A little circumstance occurred which at once caused 
 him to make up his mind. 
 
 The turnkeys who were pursuing him stopped on the 
 first floor to search the rooms, so as to make sure their 
 prisoner should not escape them by hiding in any one of 
 the chambers. 
 
 " They will stay to search these, too," Jack said, 
 alluding to those on the second floor, " and if I go up 
 higher I shall have all the more time." 
 
 His premise was one that might easily be deduced. 
 
 The attic stairs, for such they were, he reached the top 
 if in a very short time indeed. 
 
 Here he found the doors of two rooms only. 
 
 He looked up, thinking that in all probability he should 
 find a trap-door leading on to the roof, as is usual in all 
 London houses. 
 
 But nothing of (he kind met his view, so he opened the 
 door nearest to him, and entering the room, silently cl need 
 it after him. 
 
 His first care was to look to the fastenings of the floor, 
 so as to be in a position to guard against a sudden surprise. 
 
 But he found the only thing that served to secure the 
 door was a common latch— there was not even a bolt. 
 
 " I don't know that it makes much difference," he 
 muttered; " such a door as that would be no obstacle to 
 tb?*5i." 
 
 He turned round to see whether the place afforded any 
 capabilities for concealment. 
 
 In one corner was a little bedstead with white hangings, 
 such a one as would be used for children to sleep in. 
 
 A few chairs were placed around the walls. 
 
 On one side were several good-sized boxes. 
 
 The fireplace and the window completed the catalogue 
 of visible objects. 
 
 The prospect was not encouraging, but Jack Sheppard 
 was not one to allow himself to be dismaj'ed by a few 
 obstacles. He set about making the best of his position. 
 
 The window he thought would be the best chance for 
 him, so he made his way to it. 
 
 On the floor, however, he saw a piece of twine, which 
 he stooped and picked up. 
 
 Then, threading it through the ring at the top of the 
 lantern, he tied it round his neck. 
 
 This left him with both his hands at liberty. 
 
 It is necessary to caution the reader against falling into 
 the mistake that these events, which from their nature 
 have taken us some time to describe, were really long in 
 happening. Jack was very nimble in his movements, and 
 when he reached the window the men had just begun to 
 ascend the attic stairs. 
 
 It was a little latticed-casement with diamond frames 
 set in lead. 
 
 It opened with a touch. 
 
 Outside all was darkness. 
 
 Not one single individual object was he able to distin- 
 guish. 
 
 There was nothing to guide him. 
 
 He naturally hesitated, but he heard the men almost 
 upon the threshold of the little room. 
 
 " I must risk it," L "I can but lose my life, 
 
 and better be killed by a fall than swing at Tyburn ! " 
 
 This last consideration determined him, so he got on to 
 the table, and let himself slip feet foremost out of the 
 window. 
 
 He kept a firm grasp upon the woodwork. 
 
 At last he lowered himself till he hung at the full extent 
 of his arms. 
 
 Then, cautiously shifting one hand, he clutched the out- 
 side portion of the window sill. 
 
 The next thing was to close the window. 
 
 This being merely like a door, was easily and silently 
 done. The only thing was he could not fasten it. 
 
 To his delight, however, he found that from some causo 
 or other — damp, probably — it fitted tightly in its setting, 
 so that the probability was that being shut they would not 
 notice it was unfastened. 
 
 Scarcely was this done than the door was opened, and 
 Jack saw the room, as he thought, brightly illuminated. 
 
 " Not here," said a voice, with a curse appended, which 
 we do not think it worthwhile to repeat. " We shall lose 
 him, after all ! " 
 
 " Won't Jonathan be wild ? " said one who fancied him- 
 self a wag, and in consequence never missed an oppor- 
 tunity, no matter how unseasonable, of displaying his wit. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD HAS SOME HAIRBREADTH ESCAPES IN 
 NEWGATE, AND MAKES A BURGLARIOUS ATTACK ON 
 WILD'S HOUSE. 
 
 It is scarcely possible, we opine, to conceive anyone in -t, 
 more perilous position than Jack Sheppard. 
 
 His life depended upon the grasp he kept upon the 
 window sill. 
 
 To lose it was certain death. 
 
 But there was little fear of this. We have before re- 
 marked the extraordinary amount of muscular strength 
 w-hich Jack had in his arms, enabling him to perform many 
 mountebank feats. 
 
 His body, too, was only a light weight to sustain. 
 
 He thought it would be most prudent to move along 
 the window sill, so that his head should not be in the way, 
 in case the men who were searching the room should 
 open the window. 
 
 This he did easily, by moving one hand after the other. 
 
 It was perhaps quite as well that he did not know the 
 awful depth he would have fallen if he had chanced to miss 
 his grasp. The knowledge would have unnerved him, for 
 the attic window looked out into a paved yard that was, 
 at the very least, fifty feet below him.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 121 
 
 We ought, too, to explain how it was that when he 
 looked out of the window he saw nothing. Few nights 
 are so dark that one cannot distinguish large objects, how- 
 ever dimly. 
 
 But the fact was, the yard into which the window looked 
 was only like a square pit, of which the prison walls 
 formed three sides. 
 
 These reached to a considerable height above the 
 window, so that what he saw were the black stones which 
 could not have been more than six feet from him. 
 
 We mention these circumstances, which may be deemed 
 trivial, but it is our desire to leave nothing unexplained. 
 We now resume. 
 
 Jack moved along the stone until he reached its 
 extremity. 
 There he stopped and waited. 
 It was well he did, for the window was flung open. 
 " He's disappeared, I tell you ! " said a voice. " What 
 in the world's the good of looking out there ? You know 
 it looks into the little yard, and that's fifty feet down, if 
 it's an inch ! " 
 
 " So it is ! " said another voice. " But don't let us 
 waste time here ; he must be in the place somewhere, only 
 we have missed him. Come on ! " 
 " Perhaps he's jump_M into the yard." 
 " Not a bit of it ! " 
 
 " I don't know that ! Look, there's some one in the 
 yard with a light ! Call out to know who it is ! " 
 
 There was some one down in the yard, as the little 
 moving star-like light sufficiently evidenced, and a gruff 
 voice replied — 
 " What's the row ? " 
 
 " Oh ! it's Clarke ! " said one of those at the window, 
 who happened to recognise the tones. "Clarke!" he 
 cried, in a louder voice. 
 "Hullo!" 
 
 " Is there anyone in the yard ? Just look about you, 
 and call out if you see anything suspicious ; there's been 
 an escape ! " 
 
 These words filled Jack with dread. | 
 
 He was fearful that the man in the yard would, when 
 he looked up, perceive him. 
 
 He clung as closely as he could to the wall, covering the 
 lantern with his body. 
 
 He was getting exhausted, too. Holding up his arms 
 so long had drained all the blood out of them. 
 
 The next words he heard were a great relief to his 
 heart. 
 
 It was Clarke who spoke then. 
 "There's nothing here," he said. 
 
 " I told you so ! " cried the man, triumphantly, who 
 had from the first disbelieved that Jack had jumped out 
 into the yard. " He ain't the sort to do that." 
 
 " You think yourself d — d clever, I know ! " replied the 
 other. " He aint here, but he can't be far off." 
 Then, to Jack's joy. they left the window. 
 Clarke, too, had passed out of the yard. 
 But Jack's position seemed scarcely better than it had 
 been. In his exhausted state, how was he to leave the 
 window-sill, except by letting go his hold? 
 
 He endeavoured to cast an anxious glance around. 
 It is wonderful how soon the eyes become accustomed 
 to darkness. At first he was quite unable to do so, but 
 now he could define the gloomy prison walls. 
 
 He found that the end of the window-sill upon which 
 he hung was close to one of the angles where the walls of 
 the governor's house joined that of the prison. 
 In that angle was a leaden rain pipe. 
 He found he could reach it easily. 
 Then he looked up. 
 
 The roof of one part was only a few feet above hm*. 
 Kecollecting his perilous adventure at the Grange, 
 when a similar pipe had been of such assistance to him, 
 he resolved to try what he could do with this one. 
 
 It was an awful and desperate attempt, but he resolved 
 to make it. 
 
 Very cautiously, for his arms were tired and stiff, he 
 shifted his grasp from the stone to the pipe. 
 
 It was about three inches in diameter, and fu -enough 
 from the corner to enable him to take a firm held of it. 
 He clutched with his other hand. 
 
 As he committed his whole weight to it, he felt for one 
 moment the most horrible sensation imaginable. 
 His heart turned sick. 
 
 The pipe bent and gave way at the same time, creaking 
 and cracking dismally. 
 
 He made sure it would precipitate him into the yard. 
 But it did not. It gave way so far, and then stopped. 
 Finding this to be the case, he took heart again and 
 began to cliinb. 
 The ascent was difficult. 
 
 But he was climbing for his life, and it is really wonder- 
 ful what can be done under such a feeling. 
 
 He felt himself endowed with fresh strength when he 
 found he had escaped this great danger. 
 Up he went with the agility of a monkey. 
 The most difficult part of his task was now before him. 
 How would he draw himself over the parapet ? 
 It would have been utterly impossible had not fortune 
 favoured him. 
 
 The pipe did not come from the roof of the governor's 
 house, but from the top of the prison, which, just in that 
 part, was some feet higher. 
 
 So he was able to climb up until he could put his feet 
 upon the parapet, which he was very glad to do. 
 
 He remained just in that position for a minute or two, 
 in order to recover himself; a little more, and he would 
 have been utterly exhausted. 
 
 But his having so far succeeded in his hazardous attempt 
 encouraged him to make fresh efforts. 
 
 He stepped off the parapet on to the roof, which was 
 flat and covered with lead. 
 
 He still kept the lantern carefully concealed beneath 
 the ample coat which he had taken from the turnkey. He 
 would have extinguished it, only he did not know what cir- 
 cumstances would arise to make it useful, and he had no 
 means of relighting it. 
 
 He considered it would be best to run the risk of its 
 being seen. 
 
 What he should do next was rather an anxious question. 
 He had escaped from his cell, it is true, but he had not 
 got free from Newgate, nor was it very clear how he was 
 going to do so. 
 
 It would do no good, though, to remain where he was. 
 He could see a great deal of confusion was going on in 
 the ^prison, and it would not be long before they searched 
 the"roofs. 
 
 In fact, they would have done so earlier only they knew 
 there was no means of reaching them, besides which, the 
 idea had firm hold of them that Jack was secreted some- 
 where inside. 
 
 The roof was a flat one, and Jack crossed it without any 
 trouble. 
 
 Finding a place where it was practicable, he mounted 
 to the higher portion. 
 
 As he stood there he could see the dome of St. Paul's 
 cathedral towering above all objects, and looking nearly 
 thrice its ordinary size in the murky light. 
 
 That was the index he wanted to show him the direction 
 he ought to take, for all that he had so far done had been 
 performed with a definite object in view. 
 
 What that object was the reader can no doubt guess. 
 If he cannot, he must wait until events develop it. 
 
 Hav' r, then, seen the dome of the cathedral, he made 
 his way across the roofs to one particular point. 
 
 Many obstacles presented themselves before him in his 
 course, but he overcame them, one and all. 
 
 More than once he reached a place from whence a view 
 
 of some of the yards could be obtained, and eve: - time 
 
 that this occurred, and he looked down, he saw people 
 
 with lights hurrying backwards and forwards. 
 
 At length Jack reached that portion of Newgate which 
 
 j abuts upon Newgate-street. 
 
 An indefinable impulse made him poop over. 
 Below him was the by day busy, but now silent street. 
 In the centre of the road was a row of officers, who 
 had been placed there to insure the impossibility of his 
 leaving the prison. 
 
 Jack smiled at the precaution, and moved onwards. 
 Evidently he had no thought of descending into Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 There could be no doubt, now, as to his destination, for 
 on reaching that portion of the parapet which runs from 
 Newgate-street at right angles, he first looked over care- 
 ful , then climbed over it, and dropped on to the roof of 
 the Adjoining house. 
 
 That gloomy, rambling, dilapidated building which 
 simple people looked up to with a shudJov as they passed.
 
 % 124 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 "*\ 
 
 That house in which was contained so vast ?a amount 
 of villainy, cruelty, suffering, and sin. 
 
 That house, whose tenant was an arch fiend m human 
 form. 
 
 That house the reader of this history so well knows. 
 
 Jonathan Wild's house. 
 
 It was on to this roof that Jack Sheppard alighted, and 
 without loss of time set about the task of discovering 
 some means of entering it. 
 
 This he was not long in doing. 
 
 In the tiles was the covering of a large trap do 
 
 Jack stooped down and tried to raise it. 
 
 It was fast. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD'S SECRET ENTRANCE TO THE CELLS IS 
 DISCOVERED BY JACK, WHO AVAILS HIMSELF OF IT. 
 
 With a sudden wrench, and putting forth all his strength, 
 Jack caused the door to partially give way. 
 
 The woodwork of which it was composed was old and 
 rotten. 
 
 Another such an effort, and he would be able to enter. 
 
 To enter ! How strange it seemed, after using such 
 incredible exertions, going through so many perils, having 
 so many hairbreadth escapes of death and capture, to 
 leave one prison, that he should voluntarily enter another 
 — for such Jonathan Wild's house indisputably was. 
 
 But Jack had an incentive powerful enough to make 
 him willing, nay, anxious, to endure all danger that could 
 possibly exist. 
 
 He had not forgotten that the last time he saw the girl 
 he loved so well, and who so unreservedly returned his 
 affection, was when Jonathan had borne her struggling 
 into his dwelling. 
 
 Since then what had occurred to her he did not dare to 
 think of. Her enemies he knew were dead enough to all 
 human pity to hesitate to take her young and innocent 
 life, and he trembled and sickened at the thought that 
 even at that very ©.anient she was no longer of this 
 world. 
 
 If this was so, he ferfc that life would have no further 
 charms for him. 
 
 The only sunshine it had ever knowu was shed upon it 
 by her presence, and if he lost her he felt he should lose 
 all that made existence at all endurable. 
 
 But despite all he knew of Wild's capabilities to commit 
 any atrocity, he could scarcely reconcile himself to the 
 belief that he would be able to slay her. 
 
 Oh ! could it but have been whispered to him that the 
 danger which menaced her was a thousand times worse 
 than death itself, what prompt and effectual measures he 
 would have taken to prevent it. 
 
 Jack raised the trap-door, and laid it back upon the 
 tiles. 
 
 A square of pitchy darkness was at his feet. 
 
 Now was the time the lantern which he carried would 
 be valuable, and it was in anticipation of some such event 
 as this that he had taken the pains and run the risks he 
 had to keep it burning. 
 
 Cautiously kneeling down on the tiles, and screening 
 the light to the utmost of his power, so that no wandering 
 beam should indicate his presence, he drew the lantern 
 from beneath his ample overcoat, and lowered it into the 
 abyss. 
 
 He could see the floor. 
 
 It was about six feet below him. 
 
 This was enough. 
 
 Replacing: the lantern, he took up the trap-door, and, at 
 the lower portion, fixed it in its place, then let it fall, and 
 to his pleasure saw that, to a casual glance, it bore no 
 traces of being tampered with. This done, he raised the 
 Vper end a little way, and slid his body through feet 
 foremost. 
 
 Then holding for a moment by the framework with his 
 hands to steady himself a little, and feeling sure the 
 flooring could not be above six inches from his fee 4 "- he let 
 go his grasp, and dropped the distance. 
 
 As he did so the trap-door fell into its proper place, 
 though the feat was performed at the expense of the skin 
 on the back of his fingers. 
 
 The noise he made in alighting was very trifling, but 
 yet he thought if he had only taken the precaution to pull ^ 
 
 off his boots, it would not have endangered his being 
 heard by any one. 
 
 It was not too late to act upon this hint. It might be 
 of the utmost importance to him that his footfalls should 
 should not be heard, so he immediately sat down, took off 
 his boots, and stuffed them into his coat-pockets. 
 
 Then, partially masking the lantern with his coat, he 
 stole forward upon tip-toe to the head of the staircase. 
 
 Here he listened for a moment, and finding all was still, 
 descended with the silence of a spectre. 
 
 The upper portion of Wild's house was but little used. 
 Of this fact, however, Jack was ignorant. Had he not 
 been so, he might have been spared some trouble. 
 
 To be over-cautious, though, was but to err on the 
 right side. 
 
 " She would, of course, be taken to the dungeons," 
 thought Jack, " but in what way am I to reach them ? 
 Not by the ordinary mode, that is quite certain, for there 
 would sure to be a man at the grating. How shall I 
 manage it ? My best course, I should fancy, would be to 
 get to the back of the house. If I find the yard, I may 
 stand a chance of discovering some means of getting 
 in ! " 
 
 These were the reflections that crossed Jack's mind as 
 he crept down the second flight of stairs. 
 
 Hearing and seeing nothing, he ventured to take out his 
 lantern, and look about him. 
 
 Facing him on the landing was a little window, which, 
 from its position, he felt certain looked out on the back of 
 Wild's house. 
 
 He covered the lantern again, went towards it, and 
 silently opened it. 
 
 To have now shown the light, although it would have 
 been of great service to him, would be too hazardous, sc 
 he contented himself with straining his eyes to see what 
 was outside. 
 
 Below him he could faintly distinguish the roof of some 
 outbuilding, but it was too far off for it to be safe for him 
 to drop from that window upon it. 
 
 But he calculated that he should find on the landing 
 beneath a similar window, and such proved to be the case 
 when he descended. 
 
 As he expected, he found the tiled roof of this out- 
 building was in its highest part just about level with the 
 window. 
 
 This was the very thing, so he cautiously got through, 
 and closed it after him. 
 
 On his hands and knees, and clutching tightly to the 
 tiles, he crept down. 
 
 When he reached the bottom, he found he should have 
 no difficulty in reaching the yard, which he could see was 
 one of unusually limited dimensions. 
 
 In fact, as the quondam mistress of the house, Mary 
 Milliner, had many a time in days past, when speaking 
 upon the size of it, elegantly remarked that it " wasn't 
 large enough to swing a cat in." 
 
 Jack reached the ground in perfect safety. 
 
 From no one of the windows he could see came the 
 least light. 
 
 The inmates of all had apparently retired to rest. 
 
 Perceiving this, he ventured to take out his lantern to 
 make an examination of the place. 
 
 The first thing that he noticed was a door in the wall. 
 It was seer red with two massive bolts — one at the top and 
 one at the bottom. 
 
 A long time must have elapsed since they were used, 
 for they were rusted in then - settings. 
 
 Now, whether this door would lead him at all in the 
 direction he wished to go, or whether it was merely some 
 disused mode of exit from Wild's house, Jack could not 
 tell, and the only way by which he could arrive at such 
 knowledge would be to withdraw the bolts and see. 
 
 This he did at once, though it gave him a great deal or 
 trouble. 
 
 At last, however, he got the door open. 
 
 No words could convey an adequate idea of the anxiety 
 with which he proceeded to look where the door led. 
 
 He felt somewhat, but not altogether disappointed. 
 
 His last surmise was the correct one. 
 
 The door opened into a long, narrow passage, and the 
 odour that saluted his nostrils was sufficient proof that it 
 had a direct communication with Newgate-market, which 
 was then in a much worse sanitary condition than it is 
 now.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 125 ' 
 
 " Good," said Jack ; "this, I hope, will furnish me with 
 the means of making my retreat in case 1 should succeed 
 in what I am about. I may want to leave in a hurry, so 
 I will leave the door open as it is." 
 
 This determination he at once acted upon, and then 
 turned his investigations in another direction. 
 
 It should be observed that Wild had, from time to time, 
 made some very considerable alterations in the back part 
 of his house, and all that Jack saw was quite new and 
 strange, and altogether unlike any other house which he 
 had previously seen. 
 
 There was one other door, but that led into the outhouse 
 kind of place, the roof of which had enabled him to reach 
 the yard. 
 
 This door he did not attempt to open. From its posi- 
 tion he felt quite sure it led into the ground-floor, which 
 was the part of the house, above all others, to be avoided. 
 He next turned his attention to the floor of the yard. 
 It had once been paved with large flagstones, but now 
 they were completely hidden by the accumulation of 
 rubbish upon them. 
 
 This he somehow thought owed its presence there more 
 to design than accident, and he began to remove some 
 portion of it. 
 
 In doing so he found in one of them an iron ring. 
 What he sought, then, he imagined was in his grasp, 
 and, seizing the ring with both hands, he endeavoured to 
 raise the stone. 
 
 But it remained immovable. 
 
 The thought then struck him that the ring might be 
 so constructed as to turn round, and so undo the fastening. 
 To have such a thought, and then to set about trying 
 whether such was the case, were simultaneous events. 
 His supposition proved correct. 
 The ring turned as the knob of a door might do. 
 Then he once more essayed to raise the stone. 
 This time he raised it with the greatest ease. 
 His heart beat violently when he found a flight of wind- 
 ing steps were disclosed. 
 
 Before he descended them, however, he took care that 
 the stone slab was so placed that it could not by any acci- 
 dent fall back into its setting. When he had done this, 
 he went down without hesitation. 
 
 It terminated at the bottom before a stone wall. 
 But Jack knew well enough that such a staircase 
 would not be constructed without an object, so he looked 
 closely and carefully about him for some indications of a 
 secret door. 
 
 For a long time nothing met his gaze, until at last he 
 noticed on the bottom step a small iron knob. 
 
 This he pressed upon, and one of the stones in the solid 
 wall moved aside. 
 
 He was about to crawl through the opening, when a 
 succession of screams of the most awful character reached 
 his ears, and seemed to drive him back. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD, AFTER ALL HIS TROUBLE, ONLY 
 CHANGES ONE DUNGEON FOR ANOTHER. 
 
 For wily an instant, though, was Jack under the dominion 
 of this feeling. 
 
 He recognised that voice. 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He dashed through the opening like a madman, and, 
 with the cries still ringing in his ears, made his way 
 along a passage which he knew instantly, being the one in 
 which Sir Marmaduke's dungeon was situated. 
 
 How he opened the secret door communicating with 
 the outer series of dungeons he knew not, and did not 
 pause to see. It was sufficient that it did open, and he 
 passed through. 
 
 Another second, and he was at the dungeon door, 
 which Jonathan, when he entered, had left open. 
 
 To his horror and amazement he saw Edgworth Bess 
 struggling in Wild's arms. 
 
 It was Jack Sheppard, therefore, who, uttering "an ex- 
 clamation, dashed forward and grasped the thief-taker by 
 the throat, as related in the eighty-first chapter of this 
 history. 
 
 This attack was so utterly unexpected, that Wild was 
 
 taken by surprise, and, in the confusion of the moment, 
 let go his hold upon his prisoner. 
 
 Who his assailant was he could not conceive. 
 
 He wrenched his head round. 
 
 A cry of rage and astonishment burst from his lips as 
 soon as he beheld Jack Sheppard. 
 
 u Wretch ! " he yelled, grappling with him, " to-night 
 you have signed your own death-warrant ! How you came 
 here I cannot guess, but you shall never leave it again in 
 life." 
 
 " We'll see about that," cried Jack. " Cheer up, Bess ! 
 Do not be afraid." 
 
 " I knew you would save me," she replied, placing her- 
 self behind him. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " laughed Jonathan Wild, making a sudden 
 effort to throw his adversary ; " you are both now more 
 completely in my power than you ever were." 
 
 Not another word was spoken, for the two commenced 
 in good earnest a deadly struggle. 
 
 With a quickly beating heart, and ejaculations of fear, 
 poor Bess watched the conflict. 
 
 Alas ! Jack stood no chance with Jonathan Wild, even 
 at the best of times. Now he was terribly exhausted by 
 the incredible hardships and exertions he had already 
 undergone. 
 
 Still he stood up bravely, and summoned all his strength, 
 but he quickly found himself getting weaker and weaker, 
 while his foe at the same time seemed to be gaining fresh 
 strength. 
 
 At last, Jonathan, taking a firmer hold, forced him back- 
 wards, so that, to save himself from falling, he had to 
 sink upon his knees. 
 
 Seeing this, Bess herself sprang forward, and strove to 
 interpose her form between the combatants. 
 
 " Fly ! Bess, fly ! " exclaimed Jack, between his teeth, 
 while the perspiration ran down his face like rain-drops. 
 " Fly ! He will conquer me, but leave me to myself. Fly ! 
 
 fly!* 
 
 " Never without you," she replied. " Never — never ! " 
 
 " Take that, then, for being a fool ! " said Wild, fero- 
 ciously ; and, as he spoke, he raised his heavy foot, and 
 kicked the poor girl with it brutally, so that she was 
 forced to let go her hold, and shrink back shrieking with 
 pain. 
 
 This was an act that filled Jack with fury. Instantly 
 he felt himself endowed with the strength of a dozen men. 
 
 He once more struggled to his feet, and, for a moment, 
 he seemed as though he would gain the mastery over his 
 foe. 
 
 But, alas ! for both of them, the factitious accession of 
 strength which he experienced departed almost as quickly 
 as it came, leaving him all the more exhausted in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 Again did Jonathan force him down. 
 
 This time Jack felt perfectly assured that he would 
 never be able to rise again, without some extraordinary 
 event happened to change the current of events, and so he 
 called to Bess, who was moaning with pain. 
 
 " Bess, darling ! " he cried, " if you love me, do as I 
 direct ; it is the only chance we have. Fly, and leave me ! 
 Fly, I implore you, and escape ! I will try my utmost to 
 keep this fiend from following you. Let this be the test 
 of your love. Fly, dearest ! Turn to the left when you 
 leave this place, and keep straight on. You cannot miss 
 your way. I have left all the doors open. You will find 
 yourself in Newgate-market. There you will meet some 
 one of whom you can ask succour. Fly, dearest ! fly, I 
 entreat you!" 
 
 These words were jerked out rather than spoken, while 
 he continued his struggle with Wild. It would have 
 reached an earlier termination — for Jonathan would not 
 for a moment have hesitated to take his life — only, before 
 he descended to the cells, he had divested himself of all 
 his arms, not for a moment anticipating that he would 
 have any use for them. 
 
 It was to this simple circumstance that Jack, on that 
 occasion, was indebted for his life. 
 
 Adjured as she thus was, Bess could scarcely do other- 
 wise than obey, though it was with extreme reluctance 
 that she did so. 
 
 " Fly with all possible speed," said Jack, as he saw her 
 about to depart j " your life and freedom depend upon your 
 fleetness ! " 
 
 A perfect howl of rage came from Wild's lips when hs
 
 126 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 learned by the words Jack spoke that the secret exit from 
 the cells was known to him. 
 
 It was, be thought, a secret whose existence was locked 
 in his own breast, and he was furious at the thought it 
 should have been discovered. It had cost much time and 
 money in construction. He had intended it as a means 
 by which he should be able to escape, should things go 
 change as to make it necessary for him so to do. 
 
 Now it was known, and, consequently, valueless, for the 
 worth of such a thing depended entirely upon its being 
 kept a secret. 
 
 Jonathan, too, was much enfeebled by his wounds, or 
 Jack would have never been able to prolong the struggle 
 as he did. Wild had lost a vast quantity of blood, and 
 though he moved about his house as usual, yet he was 
 very far from being so strong as he appeared. 
 
 Jack anxiously estimated the time it would take for 
 Bess to get quite clear of Mr. Wild's house. 
 
 He clung all the time with such tenacity to Jonathan 
 that he was unable to shake him off. 
 
 But at last the limit of Jack's strength and endurance 
 was reached, and Jonathan forced him with his back to the 
 ground. 
 
 The thief-taker knelt with one knee upon his breast and 
 clutched him by the throat. 
 
 At that moment consciousness left him. He swooned 
 from exhaustion. 
 
 For a second or so Wild thought he was dead, and 
 released his grip. 
 Then he saw what had happened. 
 
 He caught him again by the throat as though he intended 
 to convert that seeming death into a reality. 
 But at that moment a change came over his intentions. 
 " He will keep," he said, in a significant tone, as he rose 
 to his feet. " The girl cannot have gone far, and I will go 
 after her. Curses on the young viper ; had it not been 
 for him I should by this time have achieved my purpose. 
 How came he out of Newgate ? Curses on their negli- 
 gence. But I will have it seen to." 
 
 While he muttered these sentences, Jonathan left the 
 cell, and, locking the door after him, placed the key care- 
 fully in his pocket. 
 
 Then he hurried along the passage to the secret door 
 leading to the second lot of cells. Through this he passed 
 and slammed it after him ; then through the hole in 
 the stonework which led to the little winding staircase. 
 
 This he also closed. He was not desirous of making 
 any more people acquainted with the secret, and those who 
 did know it he determined should pay for that knowledge 
 with their lives. 
 
 Up the staircase, into the yard — taking the same pains 
 to conceal the mode by which he had made his exit — down 
 the passage and into the old market he went, with all 
 possible speed. 
 
 But when he reached it all was dark and deserted. 
 The intricacies of the place were very familiar to him, 
 but he hesitated which way to take. 
 
 " She would run straight on, no doubt," he muttered ; 
 "and that is the course I will follow. She cannot get far 
 away, and I shall be sure to find her." 
 But in this he miscalculated. 
 
 About a minute and a half brought him into Warwick- 
 lane. 
 
 There no one was either in sight or hearing. 
 It would be folly for him to attempt to pursue her, for 
 he could have no possible idea of the route which she had 
 taken. 
 
 He rested his chin on his hands in deep thought. 
 If he summoned any of his men to his assistance, and 
 he could have done so without any further trouble than 
 blowing a whistle, which he carried suspended round his 
 neck, they would not only be surprised to find him there, 
 but the intelligence that they were to search for an escaped 
 prisoner would at once open their eyes to the fact that 
 there was some mode of leaving the cells with which they 
 were unacquainted. 
 
 Jonathan swore awfully. 
 
 " It's that Jack Shcppard, curse him ! Until he came 
 to me I never had this trouble in executing my designs. 
 But he shall pay the full penalty for his interference. The 
 girl has gone. But how came he out of Newgate ? I 
 must see to that ; but I must first go back by the way I 
 have just come and make all secure." 
 
 He turned on his heel as he spoke, and retraced his steps 
 through the market to the cells. 
 
 He did not pause at Jack's cell door, though he had half 
 a mind to do so. He was quite safe there, he thought, so 
 he let him be. 
 
 Moreover, he had been for a long time absent and thought 
 best to return. 
 
 The man at the grating, hearing his approach, let him 
 through. 
 
 " I will go to Newgate," said Wild, as he walked to the 
 front door of his house. " I cannot understand how 
 Sheppard could have got here. I will go and see. There 
 must have been great negligence, or else they have con- 
 nived at his escape." 
 
 He went round the corner of the Old Bailey as he spoke, 
 and then, upon arriving at the prison wicket, knocked at 
 it with such fury as almost to split the stout oak iron- 
 studded panels. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN STARTS FOR LONDON, AND IS ROBBED ON THE 
 HIGHWAY. 
 
 Under the care and skilful treatment of old Ann, Blue- 
 skin gradually recovered from what was as nearly a mortal 
 wound as any wound could possibly be. 
 
 But the fact is, the iron bands, which were placed 
 triangularly in his hat, shielded him in a great measure 
 from the blow, and, in addition to this, he happened to 
 possess a skull of tolerable thickness. 
 
 Nevertheless, the blow had been enough to fracture it. 
 Fortunately none of the splinters of bone pressed upon 
 his brain. Had such been the case, either death or in- 
 sanity would have been the result. 
 
 His constitution, too, was strong, and so, in what might 
 be termed an incredibly short space of time, he was able 
 to leave his bed and move about. 
 After that his recovery was rapid. 
 
 When trying to think back upon the past he was much 
 puzzled to separate the real from the unreal. The last 
 circumstance he could recollect with anything like dis- 
 tinctness was the sudden irruption of Jonathan Wild and 
 his myrmidons into the turret-chamber. 
 
 Nor was he able to imagine by what means the thief- 
 taker had become acquainted with the secret place of 
 refuge in the old abbey, though, as the reader knows, that 
 information came to him in about the simplest manner 
 possible. 
 
 But Blueskin was firmly under the impression that 
 Geoffrey had confided the secret to no one else, and yet 
 Jonathan walked in as though he was perfectly aware of 
 his exact location. 
 
 He was forced at last to give up the attempt in 
 despair. 
 
 As soon, though, as he was well and strong enough, he 
 made his way to the ruins, but without acquainting any- 
 one with his purpose. He fancied that there he might 
 find something that would afford him a clue. 
 
 Of his recoveiy from the death-like trance in which he 
 had lain for so many hours, and his insane flight into 
 the wood, he recollected nothing, for when those things 
 happened he was under the influence of delirium. He 
 could, however, hazily remember his encounter with the 
 poachers, and the appeal he made to them for his life. 
 All after that was a blank until he woke up in the cottage. 
 It was a glorious morning when he started on his visit 
 to the abbey. The sky was clear, the air pure, and the 
 sun diffused a comfortable warmth. In the trees the 
 birds sang sweetly, and all seemed beautiful. It was, in 
 fine, one of those fine autumnal days which come, perhaps, 
 once or twice during the season, in order to recall to our 
 minds a more vivid idea of what the departed summer 
 was like. 
 
 It was a day which could not fail to brace the nerves 
 and invirorate the frame of the invalid, and Blueskin 
 found it made a great difference to him. 
 
 The abbey was but about a quarter of an hour's walk 
 from the cottage, so he accomplished the distance with 
 ease, and without fatiguing himself. 
 
 Indeed, he was surprised at his own strength. 
 The general appearance of the place, as he drew near 
 to it, differed in no respect from that which it bore upon 
 ihe occasion of his first visit. All seemed unchanged.
 
 But it was with a heavy and an anxious heart that he 
 took the path leading to the little courtyard in wliich the 
 turret stood. The fate of his master's child and his 
 friend s son filled him with uneasiness. They were in the 
 power of their worst and most dreaded enemy, Jonathan 
 Wild, and therefore the worst was to he anticipated. 
 
 The little door was closed, but not locked. 
 
 He pushed it open and entered. 
 
 As soon as he passed through it shut again, which 
 explained how it was he found it closed. 
 
 The courtyard was quite deserted ; indeed, to nave looked 
 at it, no one would have thought a human foot had trodden 
 it for years. 
 
 Blueskin did not pause in his course, but ascended the 
 winding stairs that led up to the turret. 
 
 In a few minutes he reached the top and entered. 
 
 All within was just as he remembered it to be, with the 
 exception that, upon the floor where he had fallen, was an 
 immense pool of blood, which filled the chamber with a 
 sickening and repulsive odour. 
 
 It was a strange sick man's whim, but Blueskin thought 
 he should be better able to think over the occurrences of 
 the past while he sat there than he would be elsewhere. 
 
 So, taking one of the rude chairs which had served 
 them for a seat, he placed it near the window, and sat 
 down upon it in such a manner that he could rest his 
 arms upon the massive back and his aching head upon 
 his arms. 
 
 Thus he gave himself up to thought. 
 
 It would have been far better if he had waited until 
 his energies were more recovered, but he was too impa- 
 tient to do that. 
 
 Utterly vain were all his endeavours to come to some 
 rational conclusion respecting the events which had hap- 
 pened. This, however, was certain, and beyond all dis- 
 pute : Jonathan had, by some means unknown to him, 
 discovered their hiding-place, and, in concordance with 
 his crafty nature, had stolen upon them, and taken them 
 at unawares. 
 
 Well he remembered the attack, and how the thief- 
 taker had himself confronted him. He could guess the 
 rest. He had been struck down and left for dead, while 
 Jack and Edgworth Bess he had carried off as prisoners. 
 
 " That is it, clear enough," he said, rising to his feet, 
 " and it is no good troubling about the rest ; he found it 
 out somehow, and turned his knowledge to the best 
 advantage. What may have been the fate of Bess and 
 Jack I tremble to think of. They are alone and friendless 
 at the time when they most needed such assistance as a 
 strong arm, a clear brain, and a willing heart could afford 
 them. I will go back now, and rest for the remainder of 
 the day, then, if I feel well and strong enough, I will set 
 out for London at nightfall." 
 
 As he thus expressed his determination, he left the 
 little turret-chamber, and retraced his steps to the cot- 
 tage. 
 
 Having resolved upon a definite course of action, he felt 
 wonderfully better. 
 
 " Where are the horses, I wonder, that we left in the 
 court-yard ? " he said. " Has Jonathan or his men taken 
 possession of them, or have they strayed away ? Be it 
 wliich it will, it is all the same, they are gone. One of 
 them now would have been of the greatest service to me 
 on my journey." 
 
 And so, with his brain busy with various thoughts, he 
 passed the day upon his bed in the little cottage. 
 
 Just at sunset, old Ann came in to remove the bandages 
 about his head, and to replace them with new ones. 
 
 She pronounced the wound wonderfully better. 
 
 " I am glad to hear that," said Blueskin ; " l shall 
 always feel grateful to you. Bind it up this time as well 
 as possible, for it will be the last." 
 
 " The last ? " repeated Jie old woman, with surprise. 
 
 " Yes, it is impossible for me to stay here any longer — 
 I am imperatively called away. Here is a purse. It is a 
 full one, and contains a large amount. Take it in return 
 for what you have done." 
 
 " But," remonstrated Ann, " you ought not to think of 
 moving yet. Your wound is better, but it is far from 
 being well ; a couple or three days more will put you quite 
 right." 
 
 " May be, but I will start to-night. It would do me 
 more harm to stay here in anxiety than it would to start, 
 although I may not be r rite well." 
 
 " Perhaps so," said the old woman. " But if you will 
 take my advice, you will stay." 
 
 Blueskin, however, paid no heed to her words, and when 
 the operation of binding up the wounds was completed, 
 bid them all farewell. 
 
 The night was dark, and a cool wind swept over the 
 earth, but this was all the more suited to him, for his 
 blood was heated. 
 
 He gained the high road, and pursued it for some 
 distance ; then he took a lane that led him in the direc- 
 tion of the city of Oxford. 
 
 It was his intention to proceed thither, and then take 
 the coach to London. 
 
 But it was decreed that he should be prevented from 
 doing this, for scarcely had he gone half the distance than 
 two dark figures sprang out upon him. 
 
 So suddenly and unexpectedly was the attack made that 
 Blueskin had no opportunity of defending himself. 
 
 They clutched him on each side. 
 
 " Your money ! " they cried ; " surrender all you have, 
 and peaceably, or you will suffer for it. Your money, I 
 say ! " 
 
 _ It was'rather strange for Blueskin to be robbed on the 
 highway, but strange things sometimes do happen. 
 
 Although he was so weak and in so bad a position to 
 defend himself, yet he did not choose to comply with the 
 demands of these fellows quietly, so striking out right and 
 left, he made a vigorous attack upon them. 
 
 He stood, however, no chance. The man on his right 
 side struck him a violent blow under the right ear, which 
 felled him at once. 
 
 This done, they proceeded, with the utmost expedition, 
 to rifle his pockets, and soon emptied them of anything 
 that was of the slightest value, and then decamped, first 
 having humanity enough to drag their victim to the side 
 of the road, so that he was in no immediate danger of 
 being run over by any passing vehicle. 
 
 About half an hour afterwards Blueskin came to him- 
 self. 
 
 He rose to his feet and looked about him, with surprise 
 very visibly depicted on his countenance. 
 
 Then he all at once recollected what had happened. 
 
 " Curse the fellows, they have conquered me," he said ; 
 " it might have been worse, and I ought to be the last to 
 complain, for it is no more than I have done many a 
 time." 
 
 From this it will be seen that he took rather a philo- 
 sophic view of the transaction. 
 
 It was, nevertheless, vexatious in the extreme, because 
 he was in a strange place, some distance from his desti- 
 nation, and utterly destitute of resources. 
 
 His wound was either getting much better, or else his 
 excitement made it appear so. 
 
 " There is no help for it," he said ; " my only course 
 will be to do as they have done. The worst of it is, though, 
 I am unarmed, and not exactly a fair match for anyone. 
 Never mind, I will try ; I have been on the highway 
 before to-night, and somehow or other have always been 
 successful." 
 
 Just as he spoke these words, there rose upon the still 
 night air the clatter of a horse's hoofs, and the sound was 
 sufficient to make him aware that a single traveller was 
 approaching the spot upon which he stood at an easy 
 trot 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVII. 
 
 RELATES HOW BLUESKIN STOLE A HORSE, AND THEN 
 WENT ON THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 "Fortune favours me," exclaimed Blueskin. " I will 
 try to take all the advantage of the circumstance within 
 my power. It will be no easy task, though, for me, un- 
 armed and on foot, to ttop a man on horseback. It must 
 be done by stratagem." 
 
 He couid not as yet obtain a glimpse of the approaching 
 horseman, for the lane, about a hundred yards further on, 
 took a sudden bend to the left. 
 
 Moreover, the night was too dark a one for objects at 
 any great distance to be distinguishable. 
 
 Nearer and nearer, plainer and plainer, grew the 
 sounds. 
 
 Blueskin, for a moment, was undecided as to which 
 would be the best stratagem for him to adopt, but lie 
 decided upon one that looked rather hazardous.
 
 123 
 
 BLUESKIX: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Choosinc, tben, the highest part of the roadway, lie laid 
 himself down at full length upon his back, assuming, as 
 well as he could, the appearance of a badly-wounded or 
 dead man. 
 
 It was a strange way of stopping a horseman, hut it 
 would no doubt prove an effective one. 
 
 Tbe rider came round the bend of the lane. 
 
 He was quite a young man, and rather slightly made. 
 
 The horse be bestrode was a magnificent creature, and 
 tbe way iu which it put its feet to tbe ground showed its 
 perfect breed. 
 
 Suddemy the beautiful animal swerved, tben stopped, 
 and refused to proceed, except iu an odd, sidelong fashion. 
 
 It had perceived the object iu bis path. 
 
 Tbe young horseman seemed at first quite at a loss to 
 comprehend the meaning of bis steed's unusual behaviour, 
 but upon leaning forward iu tbe saddle, be saw the body 
 of a man in the road. 
 
 The first words this youth uttered rather amused aud 
 surprised Blueskin. 
 
 He spoke in quite au exultant tone of voice. 
 
 "Hurrah!" be said. "Here is a real adventure at 
 last ! Well, I think its time I had one, considering the 
 nights I have been out. How glorious! Wba, Tolly, 
 woa ! Steady, mare ! Why, its a dead man, I believe ! 
 I should just like them to laugh at me after this ! I'll 
 astonish them ! Its a real romautic adventure, aud no 
 mistake! What shall I do, I wonder ? Dear me, I don't 
 know ! I never had au adventure before, and— and — I 
 don't feel half as comfortable as 1 thought I should ! I'll 
 holler out ! Hilloa, there ! Hilloa ! Who are you ? Are 
 you very bad, eh ? 
 
 He waited anxiously for a response, but all remained 
 profoundly still. 
 
 The horseman began to exhibit signs of evident fright. 
 
 " What shall I do, I wonder, eh ? I've a good mind 
 to be off. No, I won't, though, or they would laugh at 
 me, aud no mistake — to run away after fiuding an adven- 
 ture. I'll get ofF. Perhaps he isn't so bad as be looks." 
 
 Thus speaking, this rather singular aud very remark- 
 able young man got off bis horse with extreme delibera- 
 tion, and, slipping the bridle over bis arm, came forward 
 ou foot to where Blueskin lay, who, now he came to find 
 what sort of adversary he had got to deal with, was 
 almost ashamed of the artifice he bad used. 
 
 But for all that, it proved to him that the idea was a 
 good oue, aud, likely enough, some day it would be of ser- 
 vice to him. 
 
 As soon as the young man approached him, he sprang 
 up suddenly, and caught him by the throat. 
 
 " Murder ! " he cried. " Murder ! " 
 
 " Silence ! " was the reply. " Utter another sound, 
 and you utter your last on earth ! I am a desperate man ! 
 Quick. Hand me over all that you possess, or your life 
 shall pay the penalty ! " 
 
 " Yes, good sir. Don't hurt me. I'll do all that you 
 want. You see, I was reading the other day about adven- 
 tures on the road, so I thought I would come out and 
 try aud fiud some myself. I can assure you that is a 
 fact." 
 
 " Then you have nothing to complain of," said Blueskin, 
 who, in spite of himself, could not forbear a smile. 
 " Here's such an adventure as few have had the luck to 
 meet with. Look here." 
 
 Knowing he had nothing to fear from the youth in tbe 
 shape of resistance, he very coolly mounted his horse. 
 
 " There," he said. " This will be a rare adventure. 
 Goodbye. I'm off!" 
 
 " No, no ! murder ! murder ! Stop — that's too much 
 of a joke ! Hilloa ! Murder ! Stop ! I say ; stop ! " 
 
 Blueskin, however, heeded him not in the least, but 
 striking his newly-acquired horse on the flanks, he gave 
 him the rein, and its poor deluded owner was quickly 
 out of sight and bearing, having, it may be fair to infer, 
 had a sufficiency of adventure to last him bis lifetime. 
 
 Blueskin slackened his pace after a little time, for lie 
 neither wished to over-fatigue himself or his horse. 
 
 His first intention had been to proceed to Oxford, but 
 now be abandoned that idea, and pushed on direct to 
 London. 
 
 The horse might be recognised, and himself brought 
 into trouble in consequence. 
 
 He made his way across the country by the narrow 
 lanes which intersected it, and at length emerged into the 
 Oxford-road, at some considerable distance from that city. 
 
 Feeling the firm, smooth road beneath its feet, the 
 horse showed himself impatient for a gallop, so Blueskin 
 gave him the rein. 
 
 His immediate purpose was to proceed to Loudon with 
 all speed possible, and endeavour to ascertain what had 
 been the fate of the two young people in whom be felt so 
 great au interest. 
 
 That Jonathan Wild had left him iu thi turret under 
 the impression that he was dead he felt quite sure, and so 
 he resolved that when he did get to town lie would care- 
 fully disguise himself, which would make his task all the 
 easier. 
 
 But he was not destined to reach Loudon without 
 meeting with a strange adventure. 
 
 Besides, be himself determined not to let any 1 1 
 of getting money pass him by, for what he had taken from 
 the young mau who was so fond of romantic adventures 
 was but trifling iu amount, and he did not know, of course, 
 how much he would require ou reaching London. 
 
 The saddle of the horse which he bestrode was furnished 
 with holsters, and be bad already satisfied himself that 
 they contained a brace of well-loaded pistols. 
 
 And among the various articles be had taken from the 
 owner of the horse were a powder-flask and a case of bul- 
 lets, so that he was well qualified to make an attack. 
 
 His head, too, was wonderfully better: in fact, he only 
 occasionally felt any inconvenience from it. 
 
 And so Blueskin, fully equipped as a "knight of the 
 road," rode ou at a swinging pace towards London, 
 determined to cry " Stand aud deliver ! " to whatever pas- 
 sengers he might meet. 
 
 Nor was he green at the trade. It was not the first 
 time iu his long and adventurous career that he had 
 played the highwayman's part, and always with success. 
 
 A glance at bis burly frame was sufficient to make even 
 the courageous think twice before they attempted to 
 attack him. 
 
 But ou that night tbe road appeared unusually deserted , 
 aud he travelled many miles before he met with a single 
 person. 
 
 Iu fact, the hour was rather too late a one for many 
 people to be abroad. 
 
 Presently, however, he heard a horse coming towards 
 him at a furious gallop. 
 
 " Some one at last," he cried, as he pulled up at the 
 side of the road. " I will stop him, at all events, be 
 he who he may. What a terrific speed he is coming at, to 
 be sure." 
 
 The beat of the horse's hoofs, as he brought them 
 both together to the ground, succeeded each other so 
 quickly that they almost made one continuous sound. 
 
 It was an unusual circumstance for any one to travel at 
 such a speed. Few horses could have performed it. 
 
 Of course, oue effect of this was to quickly bring him to 
 where Blueskin laid iu wait. 
 
 On came the horse like a whirlwind. 
 
 Blueskin dashed out into the centre of the road, and 
 then pulled up, facing the approaching steed. 
 
 Ht drew a pistol from the holster. 
 
 "Stand!" he cried, at the top of his lungs. "Stand 
 and deliver ! Your money or your life ! " 
 
 As he commenced uttering these words, he saw, faint 
 and indistinct before him, the outlines of a man on horse- 
 back. 
 
 He fully anticipated that upon seeing such an obstacle, 
 as he was, planted full in his path, that he would pull up, 
 or at least check the headlong progress of his steed, but 
 he appeared to do nothing of the sort. 
 
 The horse, however, upon perceiving the obstruction, 
 swerved aside with great suddenness, and before Blueskiu 
 could move iu the least to prevent it, swept past him on 
 his left with unabated speed. 
 
 But the rider was unhorsed, for the sudden movement 
 had caused him to lose his seat. 
 
 He fell heavily upon the hard roadway. 
 
 This was a result that Blueskin had uot expected. 
 
 His horse grew alarmed at the strange things taking 
 place, for it was quite unused to them. 
 
 Blueskin, however, who was au excellent equestrian, 
 
 » ^- ■ »■ ! -
 
 BLtJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 
 [THE DISCOVERY OF THE YOUNG MAN'S BODY JJY JONATHAN WILD AND PINCHING TOM.] 
 
 soon succeeded in calming the creature, and then he turned 
 his attention to the wild rider. 
 
 He lay in the roadway, just where lie had fallen, with- 
 out the least motion. 
 
 " lie is badly hurt, no doubt," he said ; " perhaps 
 killed. I hope not. I will see. " 
 
 He dismounted as he spoke, and, putting his arm 
 through the reins, advanced still closer to where the 
 rider lay. 
 
 The horse, however, evinced the utmost unwillingness 
 to follow him. 
 
 And now, wnether it was that some portion or the 
 horse's terror had communicated itself to him, or what it 
 was, something seemed to make him aware that there 
 was in this affair something more dreadful than met the 
 eye at a first glance. 
 
 The man lay in a strange, huddled-up fashion. 
 
 When he had succeeded in dragging his horse after him 
 
 until he was within about six feet of it, the creature 
 stopped short, planted its fore feet firmly on the ground, 
 and refused to move. 
 
 Blueskin was more and more convinced that something 
 unusual had occurred, for he had many a time noticed the 
 keenness of perception which many horses possess. 
 
 He took the end of the reins in his left hand, and wen; 
 forward as far as he could, and looked closely at the 
 body. 
 
 It was motionless still, being, in fact, in precisely the 
 same posture as that in which it had fallen. 
 
 Afraid, if he released the horse, that he should have 
 some trouble in capturing him again, Bhieskin led him to 
 the side of the road, and tethered him to a stout branch of 
 an elder tree. 
 
 This done, he t with a quickened respiration, made his 
 way to where the fallen rider laj — a ghastly, movelcsa 
 mass. 
 
 No. 17,
 
 130 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANICS. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXVIII. 
 
 A M'.sTE-RIOUS AND HORRIBLE ADVENTURE BEFALS 
 BLUESKIN ON HIS WAY TO LONDON. 
 
 The horse made a strange snorting noise as Blueskin left 
 bis side, whose attention was too much engrv^sed by what 
 had happened to pay any heed to it. 
 
 " He must be dead," he said : " and yet how awfully 
 sudden ! I wish I had a light now, but I must do with- 
 out." 
 
 The riders face was partly turned to the ground, so, 
 catching hold of the collar of his coat, he pulled him over 
 on to bis back. 
 
 Enough light was shed upon the earth for him to be 
 able to see with tolerable plainness any object not very far 
 distant from him. 
 
 Therefore, as he knelt down near the prostrate form, he 
 was able to see it was a man who was some distance down 
 the vale of life. 
 
 His hair was thin and white. 
 
 The face and figure well filled out. 
 
 His attire, though plainly made, was of the very best 
 quality of material, but there were no ornaments about 
 him, not even a watch-chain with its pendant seals. 
 
 But what struck Blueskiu most was the ghastly pallor 
 of the countenance, which wore the marble hues of death. 
 
 The eyes were fixed and open. 
 
 There was no movement about his breast to show that 
 he still breathed. 
 
 " He must be dead," said Blueskiu. " The fall from 
 his horse killed him. It's an ugly job, and it shouldn't 
 have happened if I could have helped it. Still, I may as 
 well take advantage of the circumstance. He may carry 
 something about him which is well worth having. If he's 
 dead he can't feel the loss, and I may as well have the 
 things as anyone else, and a great deal better, too, I 
 think." 
 
 Having thus taken it for granted that he was dead, 
 Blueskin began to search his pockets with a desterity 
 which sufficiently attested his long practice. 
 
 But, to his astonishment, not one single thing could he 
 find in any of the pockets. 
 
 He could scarcely believe himself, and he made a second 
 examination, but with the same result. 
 
 " Why, some one must have been beforehand with me, 
 and emptied his pockets ! What a strange thing I No 
 one has approached him, and — ah ! " 
 
 Blueskin suddenly interrupted himself with this exola- 
 mation, and sprang to his feet. 
 
 By mere accident he had touched the faee of the old 
 man with his hand. 
 
 It was icy cold. 
 
 " Good heavens ! " he cried, " not only is he dead, but 
 he must have been dead some hours. If he had been 
 killed by falling from his horse, his body would be warm, 
 not cold. What am I to think of all this ? " 
 
 With a greater amount of emotion thari he in general 
 manifested, Blueskin stooped again, and touched otl of 
 the hands. 
 
 That, too, was as cold as a corpse. 
 
 Then he took hold of one of the fingers, and tried to 
 bend it. 
 
 But it was impossible. The joints were quite rigid. 
 
 A further and still closer examination showed him that 
 the man had been dead six hours at the very least. 
 
 But nowhere about him could he find the least signs of 
 violence. 
 
 What, however, was the most awful circumstance con- 
 nected with the whole affair was that, beyond all doubt, 
 the horse which had come by at such a furious speed had 
 carried on his back uo living rider, but a rigid corpse. 
 
 In epite of himself, Blueskin trembled at this horrible 
 adventure. He had cried, " Stand and deliver ! " on the 
 highway to a dead man ! 
 
 The behaviour of the horse was now accounted for. 
 Some of them have the most invincible repugnance to a 
 dead body. They can tell one from afar off, and neither 
 blows nor caresses will induce them to approach it. 
 
 In the whole affair there was ample food for reflection 
 and speculation of the most bewildering character. 
 
 Questions to which he would lain have been able to 
 •luine some reply, thronged quickly to his mind. 
 
 Who was this old man ? What rank and position in 
 file did he livid? 
 
 How, where, and under what circumstances, had he met 
 with his death ? 
 
 By whom had his pockets been rifled ? 
 
 How carae his dead body, stiff and rigid as it was, upon 
 the back of that mysterious steed ? and by what means 
 had he retained his seat ? 
 
 What, too, was his destination ? 
 
 To neither of these questions could Blueskin reply. 
 
 So absorbed, too, did he become— and, when all the 
 ■strange circumstances are fully considered, who can won- 
 der at it — that he, for a time, forgot his own affaire. 
 
 He was aroused, however, by hearing the grinding oi 
 wheels, and then the blast of a horn rung out clearly 
 on the night air. 
 
 " The Oxford coach," he cried. " I must begone. It 
 would never do for me to be seen near this dead bod}', 
 or I should have the greatest trouble in the world in 
 removing suspicion from myself. I will draw him to the 
 side of the road, and place him against the bank, so that 
 he shall not run the risk of being mutilated by the wheels ; 
 and then continue my road to London." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin carried out his intentions. 
 
 The dead body was placed in a sitting posture against 
 the bank on the south side of the road. 
 
 Then going to the place where he had tied his horse to 
 tree, he undid the knot and mounted. 
 
 By the time he had done this, the lamps of the coach 
 were plainly visible in the distance, and the guard blew 
 another blast upon his horn. 
 
 A slight impulse was enough to cause his horse to start 
 off at a good pace, but perceiving a town in the distance, 
 Blueskin turned down a narrow lane which was on his left 
 hand, and resolved to wait there until the coach had 
 
 He was curious to know whether the ghastly object by 
 the roadside would be perceived by any of its occupants, 
 and whether they pulled up in consequence. 
 
 But no, the coach came steadily on, the rumbling of the 
 wheels reaching his ears with greater distinctness every 
 moment. 
 
 The lane was one that had tall trees growing on either 
 side of it. They cast a deep black shadow, for the season 
 was scarcely far enough advanced to strip the branches of 
 their foliage. 
 
 He took up his position just a foot or two down it, and 
 with his face turned to the highroad. 
 
 For a moment the idea of stopping the coach, single- 
 handed as he was, came into his head, for he muttered— 
 
 " I have had no luck in the way of money to-night, and 
 the Oxford mail will be sure to carry a rich booty. It 
 would be a daring feat for one man to rob so many, but I 
 have a great mind to try.' But no," he added, " it would 
 be running too great a risk. Were I to throw away my 
 life, who would Jack and Bess find to protect them ? For 
 their sake I will hold baok ; and, besides, my wound is 
 easy, but I must not tax myself too fai', and I am not cer- 
 tainly in a position to cope successfully with so many foes. 
 It shall pass ! I will try some safer game." 
 
 This was a prudent and sensible resolve. 
 
 The coach lumbered by. 
 
 He waited until it was out of sight and hearing, and 
 then followed slowly, so as not to overtake it while chang- 
 ing horses. 
 
 I would give no trifle to learn a little more about that 
 horse and its dead rider. I suppose there is little chance 
 of my ever doing so, and too many important things are 
 pressing upon me for me to be able to devote my time to 
 tracing it out. That it is but a small fragment of some 
 frightful tragedy, I feel confident, and I Bhould like to 
 learn the other details." 
 
 Blueskin trotted gently through the little town which 
 he had seen, but upon gaining the open country beyond, 
 he gave his horse the reins, and swept over the ground at 
 an amazing rate. 
 
 From a contemplation of the singular and mest myste- 
 rious adventure which he had had, his thoughts reverted 
 to those two young and persecuted beings in whose good 
 f fortunes he felt so warm an interest. 
 
 I" I ferc.xt they are both in life," he said ; " and yet, why 
 should i ? .Jonathan would wish them dead, and he 
 would have no scruples whatever in the matter. 2r T .>w 
 tedious the road seems ! Shall I never get to Loudoi v " 
 He urged bis horse to fresh exertions, and upon breast-
 
 BLUESKIN : A nOMANCE. 
 
 131 
 
 j ing a little hill, saw the Oxford coach again about a quar- 
 | ter of a mile before him. 
 
 " That coach haunts me," he said. " But I win pass it 
 I this time, and I will give them leave to overtake me." 
 
 Down the hill he went, without slackening his pace, 
 i and he was past the cumbrous conveyance like a meteor. 
 
 And now a faint, cold, gray light began to steal up from 
 the eastern horizon before him. The dawn of a new day 
 was at hand. 
 
 Gradually the different aud more distant objects lu the 
 landscape were brought to view. The night mists rolled 
 over the fields in huge masses, and as the sun arose, 
 they were rapidly dispersed. 
 
 And still the horse which Blueskin had beneath him 
 maintained its speed, and that, too, without displaying 
 any symptoms of flagging or exhaustion. It was a match- 
 less creature, and now that the sun shone upon him, he 
 was able to perceive his beauties. 
 
 In colour a dark iron gray, with a small symmetrically 
 shaped head, arching neck, and slender sinewy legs. 
 
 Blueskin was delighted with his valuable acquisition, 
 and resolved not to distress the oeature, so he tightened 
 the reins. 
 
 About mid-day Blueskin reached Hammersmith, at 
 that time a suburban village, and some miles distant from 
 London. 
 
 He paused here in front of a public-house called the 
 " Fountain," which was kept by a friend of his. 
 
 He partook of some refreshment, saw his horse attended 
 to, and then, telhng the landlord that upon no account was 
 he to make known the circumstance of his being in the 
 house, he went upstairs, and threw himself upon a bed. 
 
 He was much fatigued, so he determined to have a few 
 hours' sleep till nightfall, when it was his intention to 
 proceed to London, procure a good disguise, and then 
 make what inquiries he could as to the whereabouts aud 
 welfare of Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The latter, he determined, should be restored to her 
 rights, and he would devote the whole of his energies to 
 the accomplishment of that purpose. 
 
 CHAPTER LXXXIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MAKES AN IN9IDIOUS PROPOSAL TO JACK 
 SHEPPARD. 
 
 We last left Jonathan Wild at the wicket leading into the 
 vestibule of Newgate, to which place he had repaired, in 
 order to see in what manner Jack Sheppai'd had managed 
 to escape from his cell. 
 
 He clang to the idea that some one iu the prison, wish- 
 ing to be revenged on him (Jonathan), had put Jack in the 
 way of making his escape. 
 
 On being made acquainted with the actual circumstances 
 of the case, and being shown the excavation underneath 
 the cell door, as well as the inscription on the wall, he 
 could scarcely conceal his admiration. 
 
 Jaok Sheppard stood higher in his estimation than he 
 had ever done. Bravery wa3 the quality in others which 
 he most admired. 
 
 Above all was he delighted when he learned how Jack 
 had emptied the bucket upon them. Its contents were 
 far from savoury, and it so happened that Mr. Noake3 
 received the greater portion. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" said Wild. "Capital! Upon my word 
 its good. But you don't half take a joke, Noakes. Why 
 the devil don't you laugh ? Ha ! ha! " 
 
 " You be d — d," said Mr. Noakes, whose temper got the 
 better of him. 
 
 " Never mind," said Wild. " Don't make a fuss. You 
 will be easily able to serve him ou f when you put him into 
 another dungeon. Ha ! ha ! I can trust vou for that. 
 Ha! ha!" 
 
 " But, I tell you he has disappeared. We can't find him 
 anywhere. Every corner in the old prison has been 
 searched, but all in vain." 
 
 Jonathan knew that well enough, but what he wanted 
 to get at was the means by wh ich he had got out. 
 
 This no one knew. 
 
 All agreed, however, that he was on the stairs and 
 emptied the bucket on their heads as they were aJ* > 'it to 
 ascend. 
 
 Jonathan said not a word, but quietly mounted the 
 stairs. He had proof positive that Jack had got out of 
 Newgate, and that being the last place at which he was 
 seen, he thought it would be a very strange thing if he 
 could not discover the place at which he had made his 
 exit. 
 
 Ir turn be searched all the rooms with a minuteness 
 that seemed ridiculous, until he reached the one where 
 the child slept. 
 
 He went to the window and looked out in the square 
 pit-like place. 
 
 Not satisfied, he poked his head out, and. on looking to 
 the right, there he 6aw the bent leaden rain pipe up which 
 Jack had climbed. 
 
 " That's it," he said. " The fellow is as nimble as a 
 cat. That's how he got out, you may depend." 
 
 In this conclusion he happened to be perfectly right. 
 
 He did not attempt just then to verify it, because it was 
 by no means his wish or intention to let anyone know 
 Jack was at that moment an inmate of one of his own cells 
 in Little Newgate. 
 
 " What a difference it would make," he said, " if he was 
 just to join me in my schemes, instead of setting himself 
 up in opposition to them ! Why, then I should always be 
 successful, and with a band composed of half-a-dozen such 
 spirits, I would dare all and defy everything. But it is 
 not to be thought of, I fear. Still, I shall make one more 
 attempt." 
 
 When he went down again, the governor was not 
 visible. And as for the men on duty, they would no 
 more have thought of asking Jonathan Wild a question 
 than they would have thou ht of speaking to King George 
 himself. 
 
 So Jonathan stalked out of Newgate, and bent his steps 
 to his own house. 
 
 It was then getting daylight. 
 
 Just as Jonathan turned the corner of the Old Bailey, a 
 thought darted into his head, which he evidently had a 
 great idea of the excellence of. 
 
 " Yah ! Bo ! " he said. " That will do it. I shall 
 have them both then quite safe. I wonder I did not think 
 of that before. I shall then succeed in everything, even 
 to bending Jack Sheppard to my wishes. I will go and 
 see him in his cell at once." 
 
 Wild banged away at the door of his own house as he 
 spoke, and, upon entering, took a light and went direct to 
 the cells. 
 
 What diabolical thought was it which had now entered 
 the politic and crafty mind of the thief-taker ? Some- 
 thing more than usually cunning, or he would never have 
 been so much elated. 
 
 It will be seen in the course of the events which followed 
 what his proposition was, and what results he hoped to 
 obtain from it if, as he expected, it was accepted. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, the reader will recollect, was left by 
 Wild in the cell in a state of insensibility, produced by the 
 punishment he had received and by the utter exhaustion 
 of his system. 
 
 It was some time before he recovered himself, and then 
 he felt very weak and ill. 
 
 The thought that Edgworth Bess had escaped from 
 what was a thousand times worse than death afforded 
 him some consolation, and he immediately felt himself 
 better. 
 
 He sat up. 
 
 A dubious kind cf twilight only was in the cell, and that 
 proceeded from the oil lamp in the corridor without, a few 
 rays from which found their way in through a small grated 
 aperture near the top of the ceil door. 
 
 "I trust," he said, "that the poor persecuted girl has 
 by this time found a haven of safety where she will be 
 secure from Wild's persecutions. What can be his inten- 
 tions with regard to myself? Why, I wonder, did he 
 spare my life when it would have been so easy for him to 
 take it ? It is quite at variance with his ordinary line of 
 policy." 
 
 At this moment the tread of a heavy footstep in the 
 passage reached his ears. 
 
 Nearer and nearer it came. 
 
 Something seemed to tell him it was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 It stopped at the cell door. 
 
 The ponderous lock was shot back, and the door pen 
 mitted to swing open upon its hinges. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild,
 
 132 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 He stood just upon the threshold in an attitude of 
 defence, which showed he stood in some degree .-£■ ewe of 
 his prisoner. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he cried, as he turned the light oi the bull s- 
 eye lantern, which he carried into the cell, and 'et it rest 
 upon Jack's face. 
 
 Jack was feeble, but he did not wish to make his 
 enemy aware of his condition if he could possibly avoid it. 
 " What now ? " he said, in a defiant tone of voice. 
 " I am glad to hear you are all right. Don't be shy 
 with me, Jack. You are a clever fellow, and I like you. ' 
 " I am sorry I can't say the same thing." 
 " Are you ? I didn't know you had any more regard 
 for the truth than 1 have." 
 
 " Answer me one question," said Jack ; and tell the 
 truth for once." 
 
 " What do you want to know, Jack ? I am willing to 
 forget the past and be friends again, if you are." 
 "Has Edgworth Bess escaped ? " 
 " She has." 
 
 " You have not l-ecaptured her ? " 
 
 " No, thanks to you, she got clear off. I pursued her, 
 but she had left no clue by which I could trace her foot- 
 steps." 
 
 " Then I care not, so long as she is not in your power. 
 " Well, Jack ! Will you be friends ? I have been to 
 Newgate and heard how you served the governor, and 
 how von got iuto my house I can form a pretty good 
 guess. -I don't believe there's another man breathing 
 who could have acheived what you have achieved to- 
 night ! " 
 
 Jack felt pleased. 
 
 It was one of his failings to be fond of flattery. 
 To be flattered, too, by Jonathan Wild was something 
 extraordinary. 
 
 But, it must be remembered, Jack's perceptions were not 
 in so clear a state iust then as they generally were. 
 
 " Jack," said Wild again, while his evil-looking eyes 
 twinkled with anticipated triumph, "are you willing to 
 forget the past, and be friends with me ? Say yes, and 
 you shall have your freedom, and if you will only serve 
 ine I will guarantee to get you out of all your difficulties ! 
 What do you say, yes or no ? " 
 
 " What do you wish me to do in return ? " said Jack, 
 who, just then, would have been willing to purchase his 
 liberty at almost any price. 
 
 " Nothing that we shall quarrel about." 
 " Edgworth Bess ? " said Jack, inquiringly. 
 " We will leave her entirely out of the question. All I 
 ask is, let me have my regulars, aud assist me now and 
 then, when I require some one clever, and we will cry 
 quits." 
 
 " You will let me free ? " 
 
 " Assuredly, if you subscribe to my terms. Are you 
 willing to forget the past, and be friends? It will be 
 much to the advantage of both of us to be allies and not 
 enemies." 
 
 Jack hesitated a moment. 
 At length he said — 
 " Agreed ! " 
 
 " Come on, then, Jack ! " said Wild, while the twinkle 
 in his eyes was succeeded by a hideous grin. " You are 
 free to go where you choose. The conditions are light, 
 and I have let you off easily. But the fact is, I was 
 pleased with the clever manner in which you made your 
 escape from Newgate. You climbed up a leaden pipe on 
 to the roof, did vou not F " 
 " I did." 
 
 " Aud then how did vou get iuto my house ?" 
 " Through the trap-door in the roof." 
 " Well— well, you have a rare courage, and, if yow will 
 believe me, I am glad things have turned out as they 
 have. Act square with me, Jack, and you have nothing 
 to fear! While we are foes we only injure each other. 
 Be friends ! ' ' 
 
 " Agreed ! " said Jack again, who, in the weak state he 
 was in, was hardly conscious of the reality of the fiw.vts 
 which were taking place. " Agreed, if you will &» me 
 free at once." 
 
 " It shall be done us you desire, Jack] nu I trust you 
 will take it in the way I menu it." 
 "How?" 
 
 "As a token that I am in earnest iu 
 friends with you. Look, here is the doo? 
 
 Wilkinson, who was on the lock, seeing Wild approach, 
 opened the door. 
 
 Jack sprang out like a dart, for he was afraid if he 
 hesitated, Wild might alter his mind. 
 
 CHAPTER XC. 
 
 REVERTS ONCE MORE TO THE EXTRAOBSHNAR* DIS- 
 APPEARANCE OF YOUNG WILLIAM STANSBIRY. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" laughed Wild, rubbing his huge hands 
 together, aud cracking his fingers. " Ha ! ha ! Wilkin- 
 son." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You saw Jack Sheppard make a bolt just then ? " 
 
 " I did, sir." 
 
 " Then be off after him, and don't lose sight of him, as 
 vou value your life. Don't let him see you. Off you go. 
 Don't leave him a minute, but communicate with me as 
 often as you can. Off at once." 
 
 "All right, Mr. Wild. I'll do it, you may depend. 
 He's just turned down Warwick-lane." 
 
 " Make haste, then, or you will lose sight of him. 
 Don't let him see you following him for the world." 
 
 Wilkinson, who was a very active man, darted off after 
 Jack. 
 
 Jonathan stood upon his doorstep, and watched his 
 progress. 
 
 Satisfaction beamed from every lineament in his face. 
 
 " Ila ! ha ! " he laughed again, so much pleased was he 
 with his scheme. " I shall have her now. A capital 
 thought, and how blindly he fell into the snare. I would 
 stake my life he finds the girliu half the time that I should, 
 if I set all my men to work. Let him do so. I shall then 
 only have to learn their whereabouts from Wilkinson, and 
 make them again my prisoners. Ha ! ha ! It's very good. 
 When I get her again I will take care, too, she does not 
 escape ; and as for Jack, why he shall hang, and there will 
 be an end of him." 
 
 Jonathan Wild closed the door, and retired into his 
 house. 
 
 He called Touks, and bade him take Wilkinson's place 
 on the lock. 
 
 Then, thoroughly and perfectly satisfied with himself, 
 Wild directed his steps to his sitting-room on the first- 
 floor, aud sitting down near the fire, poured out a large 
 tumbler of brandy. 
 
 He wanted to think a little, and arrange the different 
 business matters he had then in hand. 
 
 They were various. 
 
 The first iu importance was the recapture of Edgworth 
 Bess, without whom he could do nothing. 
 
 This he considered was as good as done, and was tole- 
 rably easy. 
 
 He felt quite sure Jack would not rest until he had 
 found her. 
 
 Then there was Lord Donmull. How should he act 
 with regard to him ? Should he make him acquainted 
 with the startling fact that the young girl was at liberty ? 
 Certainly not ; there was no knowing what might be the 
 result. He would soon have her in his power again, and 
 he could easily conceal her absence until then. 
 
 Next came Steggs. What should he do with him ? 
 Get up a case against him and have him brought ti trial, 
 or would it be safer to put him to death iu some less 
 public manner ? 
 
 That consideration he deferred. He was quite safe 
 where he was, he thought, at all events for the present. 
 
 Then, last of all, he thought of the mysterious old 
 mau who had related 3uch a strange story to him about 
 the disappearance of his son with so large a sum of money 
 in his possession. What should he do in that ? Clearly 
 it was his best policy to give it every consideration, and 
 use every means iu his power to unravel the affair. Should 
 ! he "\i\uceed in finding him, he would create for himself a 
 be' v >• reputation, and might gloss over some of his other 
 lions. 
 J r r-?int, as the reader knows, was the view that he had 
 1 taken of the matter at the onset, and further reflection 
 I only served to show him the benefit it would be to him. 
 He touched the concealed handle of the bell. 
 Wild was in' a good temper again. Things were, he 
 ; .t, going smoothly with him.
 
 BLVE5&LN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 13S 
 
 Alas ! how often is it the case when we think we are 
 most prosperous, and all things going well, that we find 
 ourselves suddenly beset with difficulties and dangers on 
 every side. 
 
 So it was with Wild. 
 
 To anticipate any of the surprising events which are to 
 oome would be but to destroy the interest of the narrative, 
 so we forbear doing so. 
 
 Levee came to the door, in reply to Wild's summons. 
 
 " Pinching Tom ! " 
 
 " Just come in, if you please. Mr. Wild, and he wants 
 to see you, sir." 
 
 " Send him up." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Two minutes afterwards Pinching Tom entered, and by 
 the expression of his face, Wild could tell that he was the 
 bearer of intelligence of some importance. 
 
 The reader will remember that Jonathan had set him to 
 find some traces of young Stansbuxy. 
 
 " I have been making inquiries unceasingly ever since 
 I left you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And have they resulted in anything ? " 
 
 " Only a confirmation of your suspicions, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Sit down," said the thief-taker, graciuvsly, "and tell 
 me briefly what you have done." 
 
 " In obedience to your instructions, Mr. Wild, I went 
 to the Bank of England, and verified the statement which 
 had been made to you." 
 
 " And you found it correct ? " 
 
 " In every particular. The young man was remem- 
 bered by several of the bank officials, for his country-cut 
 dress made him a conspicuous object. I found the man 
 who had last seen him. He was one of the porters. 
 
 " And where was he last seen ? " 
 
 " Going in the direction of Bishopsgate-street, Mr. 
 Wild." 
 
 " Indeed," said Jonathan, " that looks as though I had 
 hit upon the right nail." 
 
 " That was just what I thought, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Ya — ah ! Go on. What next ? " 
 
 " I thought I would go direct to King-street." 
 
 Wild nodded. 
 
 "About halfway down, on the right-hand aide of the 
 street, I found a public-house answering to your descrip- 
 tion." 
 
 "And the sign? " 
 
 " The ' Pied Bull.' " 
 
 " Right." 
 
 " Next door, too, was the large empty house you spoke 
 about." 
 
 " Go on. What was your next step ? " 
 
 " I did not venture into the public-house, chiefly because 
 1 feared it might be the means of arousing their suspicions, 
 so I proceeded with great caution to make my inquiries 
 of the neighbours." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Just opposite the ' Pied Bull' there is a little tailor's 
 shop, in which a man always sits." 
 
 " I know the place." 
 
 " He was one of the persons I made inquiries of, and 
 it was from him that I got the most definite informa- 
 tion." 
 
 " What did he tell you ? " 
 
 " He remembered seeing a young man, who agreed 
 with the description which I gave of him, enter the ' Pied 
 Bull ' about two months ago, aud what made him recol- 
 lect the circumstance was, that his little child was play- 
 ing in the roadway and was run over. A crowd quickly 
 collected, and among them was this voung man. who gave 
 him five shillings to pay the doctor.' 1 
 
 " So he recollects him ?" 
 
 " Perfectly. Later in the same day he saw him enter 
 the ' Pied Bull,' aud that was the last he ever raw of 
 him." 
 
 "And did y~ii ^ear any rumours about th 'taouse, 
 among the neighbours ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, I did not. Several — in fact, 1 vnignt 
 say all of them — remember the circumstance of the child 
 being run over, and one or two saw the ' country gentle- 
 man,' as they call him, give the five shillings to pay the 
 doctor, but the tailor is the only one who actually saw him 
 enter the ' Pied Bull.' " 
 
 " And is that the extent of your information ? " 
 
 " Very nearly, Mr. Wild. I have no doubt we are on 
 
 the right scent now. How I got my intelligence is plain 
 enough, but J can't make out how you got yours, Mr. 
 Wild." 
 
 " Nor will you ! Have you anything more to say ?" 
 
 " Only with respect to toe empty house." 
 
 "What about it?" 
 
 " I made inquiries as to how long it had stood empty, 
 and asked for the reason why it was not occupied." 
 
 " Yes ; I wanted to know that." 
 
 " The reason given was, that the landlord of the ' Pied 
 Bull ' had bought the house some year3 back, along with 
 his own, when both were put up to auction. It was his 
 intention to make the two houses into one, and make 
 other extensive improvements, but nothing has yet been 
 done." 
 
 " And does he give no excuse for that ?" 
 
 " Well — yes. He should be obliged to wait a bit before 
 he could do it. Trade not being over brisk, and having 
 bought the houses, and paid the whole of the purchase- 
 money, he had not enough to make the alterations he 
 desired, but that he should do so as soon as he had an 
 opportunity." 
 
 ' And so the people had no suspicions ? " 
 
 " None ; and ihe placo had been so long in its present 
 condition that they almost forgot it had ever been other- 
 wise." 
 
 " And what do you make of the affair, Tom ? " 
 
 " Well, Mr. Wild, I hardly know, but I think a good 
 many things go on at the ' Pied Bull' as hadn't ought to." 
 
 " Right ; and it is not the only one of the sort in London, 
 to my knowledge. However, Tom, 1 want this affair 
 thoroughly sifted, and if all turn out as I fully expect it 
 will, it Will turn out a good thing for me, and I won't 
 forget you. Above all, be careful, because I should be 
 defeated if any hint of my intentions got wind." 
 
 " Trust me, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And now, Tom, listen. Take yourself where you like 
 during the day, but come to me to-night at about twelve 
 o'clock. Provide yourself with a lantern and spade, and 
 we will pay a visit to the ' Pied Bull.' " 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Wild," said Pinching Tom, as he rose 
 t© go. 
 
 " We shall make some discoveries, I doubt not." 
 
 " Sh — shall we go alone ? " 
 
 "Not altogether, so you need not be afraid. I shall 
 take care to have some men stationed within hearing." 
 
 With this assurance Pinching Tom was tolerably con- 
 tent, and he withdrew. 
 
 Jonathan Wild finished his brandy, and then went down 
 into the office to transact business. 
 
 But with the details of that the reader would not care 
 to be made acquainted, since in them there was nothing 
 of any special interest. 
 
 During the day several members of his band brought 
 him messages from Wilkinson, but the intelligence he 
 wanted and expected did not come to hand. 
 
 And so we pass over the time until nightfall, when 
 Pinching Tom and Jonathan set out on their adventurous 
 expedition. 
 
 CHAPTER XCI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND PINCHING TOM MAKE AN ENTRANCE 
 INTO THE WALLED-UP CELLAR. 
 
 London, in the earlier part of the last century, was in- 
 deed a fearful place. 
 
 It was the resort of the most desperate characters that 
 existed, aud outrages at which we should shudder with 
 horror were then nightly perpetrated. 
 
 Above all, there existed frightful dens into which 
 strangers and travellers were decoyed, and from whence 
 they never came forth again. 
 
 At that period, too, the difficulty which surgeons had 
 I in finding subjects for dissection led to the establishment 
 of a class of ruffians who, at a later date, were known by 
 the expressive name of " resurrection men." 
 
 The frightful deeds which these men committed have 
 frequently furnished subject-matter for the novelist, but 
 no one has yet dared to portray the more awful and dis- 
 gusting side of their character. 
 
 The reason of this is obvious. 
 
 We will give it iu the words of a highly-talented and
 
 194 
 
 BfcUESKlN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 well-known author, whose untimely end all lovers of lite- , 
 rature must deplore. < 
 
 He says : — J 
 
 " There are certain themes the interest of which is all- 1 
 absorbing, but which are too entirely horrible for the 
 purposes of legitimate fiction. These the mere romancist 
 must egohew if he does not wish to offend or to di3gnst." 
 And ao, although we are in possession of many facts 
 relative to the " mysteries of London," yet we shall for- 
 bear giving them for the reasons so well and ably ex- 
 pressed in the preceding paragraph. 
 
 But we shall certainly follow Jonathan Wild upon his 
 flight excursion to the ,f Pied Bull," for the circumstances 
 are full of interest. 
 
 It was about half an hour after midnight that two 
 dusky-looking forms paused opposite the public-house in 
 question. 
 
 In a few minutes they were joined by two more, and 
 then by two again, until presently about a dozen had 
 assembled. 
 
 They were Jonathan Wild and his men. 
 The street was in total darkness. 
 
 They stood under the shadow of the tailor's house, in a 
 dense and dusky throng. 
 
 In a low voice, Jonathan, without telling them his 
 object, gave his men instructions where to place them- 
 selves, and how to act when they heard him blow his 
 whistle shrilly. 
 
 One by one they departed, and took up their different 
 stations, leaving Jonathan Wild and Pinching Tom alone. 
 The latter, in obedience to his instructions, had pro- 
 vided himself with a lantern and spade. He had also 
 added, on his own responsibility, a mattock and crowbar, 
 in case any necessity should arise for their use. 
 
 All the houses in* the street were in total darkness, the 
 " Pied Bull " not excepted. 
 
 " How shall we make an entrance, Mr. Wild ? ' asked 
 Pinohing Tom. " I took a good look at the premises 
 yesterday. The lower windows and the door are boarded 
 over." 
 
 " We can get over that difficulty." 
 " As how, Mr. Wild ? " 
 " The boards will be easily removed." 
 " But there is a court which takes you to the back of 
 the premises, which, I should think, would not be so well 
 guarded." 
 
 " The front will be the best," said Jonathan. " They 
 do not anticipate any attack, and ten to one if they have 
 taken any precautions to prevent a determined man 
 making an entrance. Have you a jemmy ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Here's one, if you please, sir. 
 Thinking it might be wanted, I slipped it into my pocket." 
 Wild took the crowbar, and having made a hasty exami- 
 nation of the windows, set to work upon one of them. 
 
 A slight cracking noise now broke the silence, but only 
 for a moment. 
 
 Jonathan had one of the boards off. 
 " The lantern, Tom," he said, "quick." 
 Pinching Tom unmasked a dark lantern, which enabled 
 Wild to see that, if he removed another board, he would 
 have no difficulty in making an entrance, for the glass in 
 the windows beyond had disappeared, and he could see 
 quite into the room. 
 
 The other board was, like its companion, quickly torn 
 from its position. 
 
 All was now ready for them to enter, but before he did 
 so Jonathan whistled faintly. 
 
 It was a signal, and was obeyed by a man gliding out of 
 the shadow of the buildings, and coming to his side. 
 
 " We are going to enter here," said Jonathan, to the 
 new comer. " You remain here on guard. If anything 
 unusual should happen you know how to summon me." 
 " All right, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan and his satellite now scrambled through the 
 window, into the front room of the empty house. 
 
 " Put up the boards in the same places," said Wild, as 
 soon as they were inside, " but do it so that they can be 
 pulled down in a moment." 
 
 Pinching Tom was a brave enough man, but he oould 
 not control an apprehensive shudder when he fnuud him- 
 self fairly beneath the roof of the house of which he had 
 such ghastly and horrible suspicions. 
 Tie was ashamed, though, to hang back. 
 Wild took the lantern, and unmasked it a little way, so 
 
 that, although it afforded them sufficient light to enable 
 them to see their route, yet enough light did not escape 
 to make any one aware that persons were in the house. 
 The room was quite destitute of furniture. 
 Upon reaohing the door they found it locked. 
 That, however, was a matter of little moment. 
 Pinching Tom was wont to boast that no lock could be 
 made that he was unable to unpick, and as the lock on 
 this door was only one of a very ordinary kind, he had the 
 bolt back as easily and as quickly as if he had possessed 
 the proper key. 
 
 On passing through this door they emerged into a 
 little hall or passage, from which a flight of stairs 
 ascended. 
 
 Wild looked all about him with great care, for having 
 closed the door of the front room again, he was not afraid 
 of the rays of light from his lantern being seen. 
 
 But there was nothing to exoite suspicion, nor were 
 there any indications of any one having lately visited. 
 
 Jonathan looked vexed. 
 
 The hypothesis which he had formed had this empty 
 house for its basis. 
 
 He reflected a moment or so, and then he said — 
 
 " Where are the cellar steps, Tom ? " 
 
 " Not far from this 'ere staircase, I should say, Mr. 
 Wild ; yes, here you are, sir— a little door in the wood- 
 work ! " 
 
 " Open it, then, and see where it leads to." 
 
 " Its fastened, Mr. Wild, but I daresay I shall soon 
 get it undone." 
 
 Tom applied his crowbar to the crevice of the door. 
 
 It resisted for some time, having evidently been securely 
 fastened from within. 
 
 Jonathan breathed again. 
 
 More pressure was applied to the crowbar, but Wild 
 grew impatient, so he seized the edge of the door with 
 his fingers, and, putting forth all his strength, fairly 
 dragged it down. 
 
 The opening disclosed a flight of steep brick steps, upon 
 which the dust lay in incredible quantities. 
 
 Pinching Tom, at the sight of this dismal and grave - 
 like looking place, fairly drew back. 
 
 It did not appear that Jonathan observed this move- 
 ment, or, if he did, did not attribute it to its right cause, 
 for, taking no notice of it, he began to descend the steps. 
 
 Seeing his leader go first gave Tom a little more 
 courage ; besides which, he did not dare for the life of 
 him hold back. His master — for such in every sense of 
 the word he was — was treating him with great conside- 
 ration, and visions of being appointed lieutenant in Blue- 
 skin's place flitted through his brain. 
 
 The cellar steps were only twelve in number, so the 
 bottom was soon reached. 
 
 The cellar was on the right hand. 
 
 Jonathan entered it eagerly. He felt a more than 
 common interest in the affair, and he was consequently 
 exceedingly anxious to know whether it would terminate 
 according to his expectations. 
 
 The cellar, which was clearly under the front part of 
 the house, was an ordinary vaulted chamber, quite empty, 
 and bearing every appearance of having been so for some 
 time. 
 
 The walls, floor, and ceiling were all covered thickly 
 with dust, while spiders had spun their webs in every 
 direction. 
 
 Wild was foiled. 
 
 There was nothing at all there. 
 
 Still, the information he had received had prepared him 
 for quite a different result, and he was far from thinking 
 now that it was incorrect. 
 
 He must have had some doubts about it, however, or 
 he would not have taken so much trouble to assure him- 
 self that there was no mistake. 
 
 "There don't seem to be nothing here, Mr. Wild," said 
 Pinching Tom, as Jonathan finished a minute investiga- 
 tion of the cellar. 
 
 " Not what we want," growled the thief-taker ; " but I 
 haven't done yet." 
 
 As he poke, he left the cellar, and then proceeded to 
 examine the walls at the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Ha ! " he said. " This explains it. Look at this 
 brickwork, Tom. Don't it seem to you to be newer than 
 that. Uesides, here is a kind of arch at the top, just like 
 | the entrance to the other cellar."
 
 / 
 
 BLTJESK.1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 135 
 
 " This is a doorway been bricked up," said Tom ; " there 
 can't be no mistake about that. Ob ! it is as plair .r-* eac 
 be." 
 
 " Go to work, then." 
 
 "On this wall?" 
 
 " Yes ; you must fetch it down somehow or other, and 
 don't make any more noise than you can help. It w-11 be 
 easy enough after you get the first brick out." 
 
 " Its lucky I brought this, then," said Tom, as he 
 pulled the mattock out of his pocket. This will 60on do 
 the business." 
 
 He soon found, when he began to work, that the mortar 
 was soft, which materially lessened the difficulty of the i 
 task. 
 
 He nevertheless found it tedious, even with the help 
 that Jonathan gave him. The wall was three bricks in 
 thickness, and every one had to be pulled out separate, j 
 and laid down carefully, for they were, above all, careful ; 
 not to make noise enough to rouse the people in the next 
 house. 
 
 All things, however, must have an end, and so, after 
 about twenty minutes or half-an-hour's work, a breach in 
 the wall was made, large enough to allow them to crawl 
 through. 
 
 CHAPTER XCII. 
 
 THE BODY OF WILLIAM STANSBURY IS FOUND BENEATH 
 THE FLOORING OF THE CELLAR. 
 
 Jonathan went first. 
 
 Pinching Tom followed, and held the lantern high above 
 his head. 
 
 It was in a vaulted apartment, in no way differing from 
 that under the front of the house, that they now found 
 themselves. 
 
 In one end, however, was a door, which, from its posi- 
 tion, seemed to indicate a means of communication 
 between that house and the " Pied Bull." 
 
 The floor, too, was very different — unlike the other 
 cellar, there was no dust or dirt upon the floor to 
 speak of. 
 
 It was composed of small flag-etones. 
 
 At these Jonathan Wild looked narrowly, and every 
 now and then pressed upon the mortar with his thumb- 
 nail, in order to judge, by the hardness exhibited, how 
 lone it had remained there. 
 
 Pinching Tom held the light, and watched him with the 
 greatest interest. 
 
 Presently Wild gave vent to an ejaculation. 
 
 " Here is what we seek," he cried, springing to his feet. 
 " Put the lantern down on the floor, and get your tools. 
 Now then." 
 
 " Where am I to begin, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Here, and then work your way round the stone. When 
 the mortar is all loosened, we shall easily be able to lift the 
 stone from its setting." 
 
 " We shall, sir ; and it won't take very long to loosen 
 the mortar." 
 
 Both set to work with the blades of their clasp-knives, 
 as being the most convenient instruments, and very soon 
 indeed — in much less time, in fact, than one would have 
 expected, they had the whole of the mortar dug out of the 
 '.nterstices. 
 
 The end of the crowbar was then inserted at one of the 
 corners, and after one or two trials, they succeeded in 
 raising the stone up a little way. 
 
 The advantage was taken of it to turn it quite over. 
 
 Some blackish -looking earth was disclosed by the stone. 
 
 Pinching Tom took up the spade with the intention of 
 removing some of it, but Jonathan took the implement 
 from him, and with nervous impatience began to scrape 
 away the mould. 
 
 This he did to a depth of not more than two inches, 
 when his spade struck against some object harder than the 
 soil itself. 
 
 He laid thi6 object bare. 
 
 It wa6 the lower portion of a human body. 
 
 " And do you think this is the young man vou spoke of, 
 Mr. Wild?" ' 
 
 " I have very little doubt of it. Help me raise these 
 other stones, and then we shall be able to see his face." 
 
 Now that one flag was taken out, there was no difficulty 
 in displacing the remainder, and Pinching Tom laid them 
 oter iu a few moments, 
 
 All that now remained was to remove the mould from 
 the surface of the body. 
 
 This Pinching Tom did, while Wild folded his arms and 
 looked on. 
 At length the corpse was fully exposed to view. 
 It was that of a young man, whose appearance in life 
 must have been tolerably prepossessing, though now, of 
 course, its effect was marred, for decomposition had already 
 made some progress. 
 
 And now we may as well take the opportunity of ex- 
 plaining what may seem strange in Wild's behaviour on 
 this occasion, for it is no part of our plan to wish to main- 
 tain unnecessary mysteries. 
 
 In brief, then, about a month before the commencement 
 of our story, Jonathan received an anonymous communi- 
 cation to the effect that if he would look in a certain place 
 in a certain house he would there find the evidenoe of a 
 diabolical murder which had just been committed, and 
 which was only one of a long series of similar crimes. 
 
 But it so happened that other things turned up to pre- 
 vent him from attending to this note, and then, as the 
 reader is aware, since he made Jack's acquaintance, that 
 individual found him plenty to do. 
 
 Indeed, the circumstance was utterly forgotten until the 
 old man strangely enough called upon him, as we have 
 related, and then ho all at once recollected the anony- 
 mous letter he had received, and thought that probably 
 enough the victim there spoken of might be William 
 Stansbury. 
 
 The house referred to was the " Pied Bull," and the 
 reader is already aware how he called Pinching Tom aside 
 and gave him his instructions. 
 
 The result, too, has been seen, so that the contents of 
 the letter were completely verified. 
 
 The only link wanted was the proof that the dead body 
 which they discovered was that je young farmer. 
 
 Morally, however, there could 6e little douW*of it, and, 
 so far as Wild and his janizary could tell, the corpse 
 agreed with the description the old man had given of his 
 son. 
 
 Having found the body, Jonathan's course was now 
 dear and straightforward enough, and he would have 
 sufficient grounds for arresting the occupants of the pub- 
 lic-house. 
 
 He could yet see that the affair would redound very 
 much to his oredit, since he would undoubtedly be the 
 means of breaking up one of those horrible dens into 
 which unsuspeoting travellers were decoyed and mur- 
 dered. 
 
 " So far all is satisfactory," said Jonathan, after a brief 
 interval of silence. " All has turned out exactly as I 
 wished and anticipated. Whether this is, or is not, the 
 body of William Stansbury, matters little, though of the 
 two I would rather that it were." 
 
 " There is that door, Mr. Wild," said Pinching Tom. 
 " I don't know what more you think of doing." 
 
 " It is merely a communication between the two houses 
 — at least, so I have been informed. We may as well sec. 
 It will not take much longer?" 
 
 The paii- upon this advanced to ilae door, and easily 
 opened it. 
 They had to pull it towards them to pass through. 
 On the other side was merely an ordinary public-house 
 cellar. 
 
 " All right," 6aid Wild, " close the door. It will be 
 best to secure it in someway." 
 
 " The door opens inwards, so it ought to be done easily 
 enough," said Pinching Tom. 
 
 " There are the flag-stones we have taken up. I will 
 help you place them against the door, so that if any one 
 tries to seek an entrance here they will find it rather a 
 difficult matter." 
 
 Between them they moved the stones and piled them up 
 against the door, in 6uch a manner that it was next to an 
 impossibility for any one from the public-house to push it 
 open. 
 
 This being done, Jonathan had things left just as they 
 then were, and retraced his steps. 
 
 The man outside was waiting for them. 
 
 On reaching the street, Wild again summoned his men 
 
 a vound him, and gave them orders to keep careful watch 
 
 during the remainder of the night until he came in the 
 
 morning. 
 
 Jonathaa determined that he would make as much
 
 j36 
 
 BLTJKESIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 display of his zeal as he could ; so at an early hour he 
 waited upon the Secretary of State, told him the whole 
 affair, and obtained his sanction to act in the way he 
 thought best. 
 
 Thus armed, the thief-taker collected all the police- 
 officers he could, and placing himself at their head, 
 marched with them in a body to the house. 
 
 His men reported that uo one had left the house. 
 The arrival of Wild and the officers raised quite a eom- 
 motion. 
 The public-house was open, 
 
 Jonathan entered boldly at the head of all the.rest. 
 A hard-featured woman was standing at the bar- 
 counter, and as soon as she saw the officers, she turned 
 of an ash}' whiteness. 
 
 " Arrest that woman, 1 ' cried Wild, " and every oae else 
 you find in the house." 
 
 The officers quickly spread themselves over the building. 
 Two servants were found and taken prisoners, and they 
 seemed, with the landlady, to be the sole occupiers of the 
 honse. 
 
 Being quite assured that there was no one else, and, 
 moreover, being assured by the neighbours tnat there was 
 no landlord, Jonathan had the doors all fastened up, and 
 he walked back with his prisoners in triumph. 
 
 The body was removed from the cellar, and was recog- 
 nised by Mr. Stansbury as being his son. Over his grief 
 we draw a veil. 
 
 The whole affair made a great stir when it was made I 
 public, and Jonathan Wild came in for a large share of 
 undeserved commendation, and it is certain that he was 
 just then more popular than he was at auy other portion I 
 of his career. 
 
 The landlady of the " Pied Bull," who was a widow, | 
 was duly brought to trial, condemned, and executed at | 
 Tyburn. Her two servants, who were found accessories, ! 
 shared the same fate. 
 
 And bo was broken up one of about the worst of all the 
 dens that then existed in London, and in to the disgusting j 
 and horrifying details of which we do not choose to go, for | 
 the reasons before given. 
 
 It was now that Jonathan thought more seriously than I 
 ever of quitting his profession as thief-taker, and, by a | 
 marriage with Edgworth Bess, obtaining undivided pos- t 
 session of the Donmull estates. 
 
 How he fared will be quickly seen, but we fear that he 
 has engrossed our attention for a considerable period, and 
 think it high time that we turned to some of the other 
 characters in our history, all of whom, strange to say, are 
 separated from each other. 
 
 It will be a relief, too, if we can turn to some more 
 pleasing scene than the one to which we have just been 
 introduced, and which would never have been touched 
 upon at all had not the exigencies of the narrative 
 required. 
 
 Blueskin we last left at the public-house at Hammer- 
 smith. 
 
 Jack Sheppard we have not seen since he so blindly fell 
 into the snare which Wild had laid for him, and dashed 
 out of his house and round the corner of Warwick-lane, 
 with Wilkinson at his heels. 
 
 To neither of these can we now turn our attention, for 
 we are obliged to la} - before the reader some of the most 
 startling incidents that it is possible to conceive. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIII. 
 
 FOLLOWS THE FORTUNES OF EDGWORTH BESS, AND 
 
 RELATES WHAT HAPPENED TO HER AFTER SHE 
 
 ESCAPED FROM WILD'S CELLS. 
 
 There is one of the characters in this history in whom, | 
 it is hoped, a more than common interest is 'felt, but of 
 whom wo have for some length of time lost sight. 
 
 We allude, of course, to Edgworth Bess, whose trials, 
 sufferings, privations, and ill-fortune, borne, -as they were, 
 with such a meek and gentle spirit, ought to have en- 
 deared her to all our hearts. 
 
 But the busy whirl of exciting incidents which have, 
 from almost the first line, kept our attention wholly occu- 
 yied, have afforded scarcely any opportunities for her 
 Lrentle woman's nature to develop itself. 
 
 For this, however, there is yet ample time. 
 
 When, in obedience to the earnest entreaties of Jack, 
 »he left (he cell, and vusbcd along the ptcsage as he 
 
 had told her, she was suffering acutely from the effects of 
 Wild's brutal usage, and more than once she felt as though 
 she must have fallen to the earth. 
 
 But, by a strong effort of the mind, she kept herself up, 
 and, only partially conscious of the route she took, and the 
 different objects she passed, 6he presently found herself in 
 t&e yard at the back of Wild's house. 
 
 From that place, as the reader already knows, a dark 
 passage led into old Newgate -market. 
 
 Down this she ran, with all the speed she could make, 
 but when she reached it, the horrible stench which filled 
 the place almost overpowered her. 
 
 She leant against the wall at the end of the passage for 
 support. 
 
 While she did so, her quick ear caught the sound of ap- 
 proaching footsteps. 
 
 The fear that it might be her much-dreaded enemy, 
 who, alter vanquishing, perhaps murdering, Jack, had 
 started in pursuit of her, bereft her, for a moment, of all 
 motion, and then, feeling it would be madness to fly, she 
 shrunk back behind a massive pillar. 
 The footstep came nearer. 
 She scarcely dared to breathe. 
 
 In another moment her worst forebodings were realized. 
 Jonathan Wild emerged from the passage. 
 The outlines of his bulky form were only just distin- 
 guishable from the surrounding gloom. 
 
 But if she had any doubt as to his identity, it was dis- 
 pelled completely when she heard his voice. 
 
 There was no mistaking those harsh, grating sounds. 
 In a state of the greatest conceivable agitation she 
 listened to his footsteps, as he threaded his way through 
 the intricacies of the market to the entrance in Warwick - 
 lane. 
 
 She had fortunately sufficient presence of mind to re- 
 main where she was. 
 
 And yet, if the truth was known, it was more likely 
 from fear than calculation, that she acted as she did. 
 
 Scarcely venturing to draw her breath, lest the faint 
 sound should reach her enemies' ears, she still remained 
 ci'ouched up behind the pillar. 
 
 And well was it for her that she did so, for, as the 
 reader knows, Jonathan Wild came back. 
 
 But he did not look about him. Strange to say, the 
 idea that she might be hiding somewhere in the market 
 never entered his mind. He made sure her first act would 
 be to place as great a distance as she possibly could 
 between herself and his house. 
 Jonathan re-entered the passage. 
 
 With an intentness, of which no words could possibly 
 convey an adequate idea, she listened to the sound of his 
 returning footsteps. 
 
 In that silent place she heard a heavy door swung 
 shut, and the creaking of rusty bolts as they were shot 
 into their sockets. 
 
 But even now the fear that he might come back again 
 made her loath to quit her hiding-place. 
 
 So minute after minute passed away, and yet she stirred 
 not. 
 
 But the silence of the dark and miserable place still 
 continued, and she took fresh heart. 
 
 Cautiously, and trembling in every limb, she crept from 
 behind a pillar, listened, and then took her way at random ; 
 all she did was to choose the widest route. 
 
 Presently, although she reached it circuitously, she 
 emerged into Warwick -lane, and stood as near as possible 
 upon the same spot as Jonathan had. 
 
 She looked up and down the dismal and deserted 
 thoroughfare with an aching heart. 
 
 Which way to run for safety, or where to look for a 
 friend, she knew not. 
 
 And as the full wretchedness of her position forced 
 itself upon her she sobbed aloud. 
 A fugitive from the much-dreaded Jonathan Wild. 
 Alone and unprotected. 
 Destitute of all means. 
 
 Could auyone be in a more forlorn situation than she was. 
 To remain where she was, however, was but to need- 
 lessly court danger, and yet she could scarcely 2nd heart 
 to move away. 
 
 At that very moment was not Jack a prisoner in Wild's 
 power for her sake: perhaps, by this time, was murdered. 
 Freob tears stivimed from her e cs as she niai^ few 
 veflection.
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD IS ONE TOO MANY FOR WILKINSON.! 
 
 Over and oyer again did she re-rat that she had Buf- 
 fered herself to be persuaded by him to leave the place. 
 
 u-i^f \ came toolate > and were unavailing now 
 •• wi* u n J 1 1 d ? ? " she criecl > ia anguished tones. 
 
 What shall I do t What will become of me P" 
 
 It was some moments before she found an answer to 
 
 W» q Tte *?l, th , en T 8he thou ^t of Johnson, the 
 landlord of the " Black Lion," in Drury-lane 
 
 I will go to him," she said. " I will go to him, and 
 tell him how truly wretched I am-surely he will be- 
 friend me ! I wll try, and ask him to assist me in Blue- 
 siun s name. ' 
 
 Having thus resolved upon a particular course of 
 action, she grew calmer, and, drawing her torn and 
 casordered dress as closely about her person as she could, 
 directed her steps down Warwick-lane to Ludgate-hill 
 and thence to Drury-lane. 
 
 f« ?„ n J h %? ° dayS ' Whe -? s0 Httle P ubHc order was ma ia - 
 tamedit woa a perilous journey for a youncr •»■] to 
 make at that lonely hour. ' s " 
 
 No, 18, 
 
 But Edgworth Bess, thinking nothing of her danger, 
 hastened on. 
 
 The corner of the turning now known as Farringdon- 
 street, but then as Fleet-market, was reaehed in the 
 oourse of a few minutes. 
 
 Here she paused, and drew back in terror, for a wild, 
 uproarious bacchanalian shout arose, which echoed and 
 re-echoed through the silent streets. 
 
 By the fulness of its sound it must have come from 
 many a lusty throat. 
 
 Mingled with it, too, was the occasional clash of 
 weapons, or a burst of drunken laughter. 
 
 It was but the surprise of the moment wat made 
 Edgworth Bess draw back. Recovering herself, s>-9 con- 
 tinued on her way. 
 
 But ere she could reach the opposite corner, there was 
 a sudden rush of many footsteps from the direction of 
 r leet-market, acoompanied by a strange whoo^in^ 
 cry. 
 
 A deadly ,3Jnsation of sickness came over the youu-
 
 ia« 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A KOlVtANcB. 
 
 girl's heart as sho heild it, and she almost sank to the 
 ground. 
 
 To the full wa3 she consoious of the peril in which 
 she stood, and that knowledge endowed her with 
 strength to make a sudden rush to escape. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried the chorus of voices. "Hurrah! 
 More sport to-night ! Hurrah for the brave Mohawks ! 
 Hunt her down ! On — on, brave hearts ! Rare sport — 
 rare sport ! Hurrah ! hurrah ! There she goes, along 
 Fleet-street ! Tally-ho ! Keep her in sight ! Hurvah ! 
 hurrah ! 
 
 Such were the loudest of the cries that made them- 
 selves heard above other and minor sounds. 
 
 Such were the cries that filled poor Edgworth Bess 
 with the utmost alarm, and made her fly along the 
 street with the speed of a hunted hare. 
 
 Imminent, indeed, was her danger, and greater, 
 perhaps, than ever she had known. 
 
 By the dim light in the streets, the outlines of the 
 throng who had uttered such strange cries and then 
 rushed off in chase of her, could be partially dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 In number they were, perhaps, rather over twenty. 
 
 The shape of their garments told at once they were 
 persons of high social rank. 
 
 All were armed with long glittering dress swords or 
 rapiers, which they either held aloft in the air, or whirled 
 round their heads as they dashed onwards. 
 
 This band of wild young men were at the times of 
 which we write the terror of all persons who were com- 
 pelled to bo abroad after dark.; 
 
 By their barbarous acts and uncivilized behaviour they 
 had earned for themselves the appellation of Mohawks — 
 the collective name for one of the most bloodthirsty 
 tribes of the North American Indians. 
 
 The Mohawks — or as the word ] is sometimes 
 written, Mohocks — were composed of a number of dis- 
 solute young men, of ages varying from eighteen to thirty 
 years. Among them might be found noblemen's sons, 
 officers of rank, and a goodly sprinkling of those indi- 
 viduals whose income and mode of existence are profound 
 mysteries to their most intimate acquaintance. 
 
 In a general way, the evening would be'spent in furious 
 revelry, or the amusements of the gaming table : then, 
 when the sober portion of the inhabitants of the metro- 
 polis had retired to rest, they would sally forth into the 
 streets, and setting the authorities at defiance, commit 
 all kinds of excesses. 
 
 On these occasions they all seemed to be animated by 
 one impulse, and that was to strive to outdo each other 
 in deeds of violence and barbaric cruelty. 
 
 Wherever they went they left a track behind them 
 which could be followed without difficulty. 
 
 Watchmen were knocked down, or otherwise mal- 
 treated — windows broken — signs pulled down — vessels 
 on the river cut from their moorings, and sent adrift 
 into the stream — carriages stopped, and their occupants 
 subjected to every imaginable indignity — inoffensive 
 people killed or desperately wounded — in fine, there 
 was no species of enormity, no deed of violence or 
 cruelty that they left uncommitted. 
 
 Many a time would the peaceful inhabitants of the 
 city be rudely startled from their slumbers by their 
 demoniac war-whoop, and experience a feeling of deep 
 thankfulness that they were not abroad and in their path. 
 
 In all London there was not a human beiny to whom 
 they were unknown, by name at least, and Edgworth 
 Bess was no exoeption to the rule. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIV. 
 
 THE MOHAWKS CHASE EDGWORTH BESS THROUGH 
 FLEET-STREET AND THE STRAND. 
 
 Many and many a time had she trembled with dread 
 when their fiendish deeds had been related to her, many 
 and many a time had she hoped that she should ^ever 
 be exposed to their brutality. 
 
 Mercy, she knew, was a word to which they never paid 
 any attention, and that to implore it would be but + .o 
 court their utmost malice and derisive laughter. 
 
 To hunt a poor helpless girl through the streets 
 would afford them unbounded satisfaction and delight. 
 
 Instances are yet on record of their having performed 
 worse deeds than this. In particular one wnere,.having 
 
 procured a large barrel, they studded the inside with 
 iron spikes, and a poor woman happening to fall into 
 their clutches, they put her inside it, nailed in the top, 
 and rolled it along the streets. 
 
 This will be sufficient to show that our heroine had 
 good grounds for apprehension. 
 
 But the dread she felt at falling into their power 
 enabled her to make the most incredible exertions. 
 
 With many a yell and unnatural cry, the Mohawks 
 dashed on in pursuit of the flying form which they coirid 
 just distinguish before them in the darkness. 
 
 There were no vehicles and no passengers in the street 
 to impede their progress. The hour was the one before 
 day begins, and when London is like a city of the dead. 
 
 As she sped along the corner of Fetter-lane she caught 
 a transient glimpse. of the lantern in the watchman'sbox 
 that was stationed at the corner, but she did not pausa 
 or apply to him for protection ; she was well aware it 
 would be utterly useless. 
 
 By some unaccountable perverseness, those who were 
 chosen to be guardians of the night and preservers of 
 the peace were invariably old men, who were equally in- 
 capable of following any occupation, or of defending 
 themselves or protecting others. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, then, continued on her way, believing 
 that her only hope of escape consisted in so doing. 
 
 And in this she was quite correct, for the watchman, 
 hearing the uproar, had very prudently ensconced him- 
 self in the recesses of his box, and pretended to be very 
 sound asleep. 
 
 By so doing he hoped to escape the observation of 
 the much-dreaded Mohawks. 
 
 But he was mistaken. 
 
 The sight of the lantern which was hanging outside 
 diverted their attention for a moment from its original 
 object. 
 
 Watchmen were peculiarly their prey. 
 
 Clashing their swords, and uttering their war-whoop, 
 they made a simultaneous dash at this one. 
 
 The box went over in a moment with a terrible crash. 
 
 It fell face downwards on the pavement, thus bring- 
 ing the watchman beneath it. 
 
 A smothered sort of howl reached their ears. 
 
 They responded to it with a triumphant shout. 
 
 This was called " coffining a watchman/' and was 
 considered very fine sport indeed. 
 
 The whole proceeding occupied scarcely a moment of 
 time. 
 
 " Now for the girl !" cried one of the foremost. "Quick, 
 or she will elude us !" 
 
 " Yes — yes ! The girl — the girl !" exclaimed the rest, 
 as they bounded with fresh energy after the breathless 
 creature. 
 
 What to do she knew not. There was a vague notion 
 in her mind that she might run the whole distance to 
 Drury-lane, and succeed in keeping ahead of her pursuers. 
 
 But as yet she had gone only a little more'.than half the 
 distance, and already she felt her respiration impeded, 
 and her limbs scarce able to maintain her weight. 
 
 Terror, however, acted as a sharp spur to urge her on, 
 and although she felt as though each moment was going 
 to be her last, she flew forwards with undiminished 
 speed. 
 
 The loud cries, trampling feet, and clashing weapons 
 of her pursuers seemed, nevertheless, to grow nearer 
 and nearer, and more alarmingly distinct. 
 
 Her eyes grew dim. 
 
 Her brain reeled. 
 
 She staggered more than once, but each time was for- 
 tunate enough to keep her footing. 
 
 But she felt her senses were leaving her — that it would 
 be beyond all possibility for her to hold up much longer. 
 
 Temple-bar was passed. 
 
 Then she saw, looming before her in the darkness, the 
 dim outlines of St. Clement's Church. 
 
 It was just at this moment a more than usually loud 
 shout of gratification was uttered by the Mohawks, as 
 they perceived how quiokly they were gaining upon the 
 object of their pursuit, and who it would have been 
 moro consonant to human nature for them to defend in- 
 stead of persecute. 
 
 But it was by no means part of their plan to come up 
 with her too soon, and so they slackened speed a little. 
 What they wished was to keep her well in view, aud
 
 BLUKSKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 138 , 
 
 make her run until she could run no longer. The hunt 
 over, their pleasure would be at an end. 
 
 Poor Bess reached the stout iron palings which sur- 
 round the church- 
 Go further she could not. 
 
 Uttering a cry of despair and horror, she clung con- 
 vulsively to the ironwork. 
 
 The strength which had up to that instant animated 
 her seemed to suddenly depart, and she sank down in a 
 strange, huddled-up mas3 upon the stone pavement. 
 
 She was only partially in possession of her faculties, 
 but her hands retained their grasp upon the palisades. 
 
 A film came over her eyes, and objects faded from 
 her sight. 
 
 With an earnest hope that Jack or Blueskin might 
 arrive even at the eleventh hour and save her, as they 
 had already done upon more than one occasion, she 
 strove to rally her departing senses. 
 
 Then with a triumphant yell, and a sudden rush, the 
 Mohawks closed around her. 
 
 She saw their numerous forms ; to her excited fancy 
 they were those of demons. 
 
 She saw the glimmer of their polished weapons in the 
 murky light. 
 
 Then she screamed faintly, as she saw them all pointed 
 towards herself. 
 
 To have moved now without receiving a ghastly wound 
 from one of the many glittering steel points that sur- 
 rounded her would have been an impossibility. 
 
 A mocking laugh arose from the shadowy throng of 
 Mohawks as they beheld her frantic terror. 
 
 "Mohawks !" they cried, with one voice, and in such 
 lusty tones, that they made the whole place ring again. 
 
 "Mohawks! Hurrah for the Mohawks of London! 
 Hurrah ! hurrah ! Up, wench! What brings you abroad 
 ftt such an hour ?" 
 
 The last words were spoken by one who pressed more 
 closely than the others to the trembling form of the poor 
 girl. 
 
 " Why, boys," he said, " she is young, and, as well 
 as I can tell in the dark, has a pretty face." 
 
 This speech produced a general movement among the 
 rest. Lowering their swords, they crowded round her, 
 all eager to catch a glimpse of her countenance. 
 
 "Mercy! have mercy upon me!" moaned Bess, 
 faintly ; " let me go, gentlemen, I implore you ! Mercy, 
 mercy ! Help ! help !" 
 
 It would seem as though her prayer had touched their 
 hearts, and that they were about to accede to it, for 
 they drew back a pace or two. 
 
 Making a great and almost superhuman effort, Edg- 
 worth Bess struggled to her feet. 
 
 She brushed her long, black, waving hair away from 
 her face, then, clasping her hands beseechingly, gazed 
 upon the spectral-like forms around her. 
 
 " Let me go," she said, "pray let me go! Have 
 mercy on me, gentlemen, have mercy ! I am only a poor, 
 friendless girl, so you ought to feel some compassion for 
 my state. Pray, let me go !" 
 
 But no heed was paid to what she said. One and all 
 were occupied in gazing upon her, for they could not fail 
 to perceive the beauty of her face and form. 
 
 Poor Bess turned her eyes from one to another, but 
 there was not a single countenance whose expression 
 gave her room to hope. 
 
 In one part of the ring, however, she saw a small 
 opening, and in obedience to the powerful impulse to 
 escape, she made a sudden and unexpected rush in that 
 direction, and strove to get through. 
 
 So rapidly was the action performed that she almost 
 succeeded in her design. 
 
 In fact, she did get through. 
 
 But she was bewildered, and consequently unable to 
 take as much advantage of her success as she might 
 have done. 
 
 With the greatest apparent ease, one of the band of 
 Mohawks, who was tall and lithe of limb, sprang past 
 her. 
 
 Then, turning round suddenly in advance of her, he 
 held out his sword before him, thus effectually arresting 
 her further progress. k ~, f 
 
 Another moment, and the troop of young men, Vho 
 were scars upon the face of humanity, stood around her. 
 Shoulder to shoulder, in one unbroken circle they stood. 
 
 Each held his polished rapier in his grasp in such a 
 vnanner that as they stood and projected the weapons 
 before them, the points formed a ring about eighteen 
 inches in diameter. 
 
 The extreme points of the sworda were actually in 
 Son tact with each other. 
 
 ' In the centre, and half-dead with terror, yet not daring 
 to move in the least degree, stood poor, persecuted 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Upon the faces of each one of her tormentors was a 
 fiend-like smile. 
 
 But they were more silent now. 
 
 For full two minutes did she remain in this horrible 
 position, and then one spoke. 
 
 "More sport," he said, " more sport! Prick her 
 with the swords ! That's it ! Look ! Bravo ! Capital ! 
 capital!" 
 
 As he spoke, this brute in human form lunged slightly 
 with his sword. 
 
 A scream of agony came from the girl's lips as she 
 felt the steel enter the skin, though it did not go deep 
 enough to inflict a serious wound. 
 " Hurrah !" cried the rest, as they followed the example 
 of their companion. 
 
 CHAPTER XCV. 
 
 BLUESKIN MEDITATES A DESPERATE UNDERTAKING, 
 WHICH HAS NOTHING BUT BOLDNESS TO RE- 
 COMMEND IT. 
 
 Fatigue procured Blueskin several hours' sound 
 sleep, despite the deep anxiety of his mind. 
 
 This circumstance was fortunate, for unless he tho- 
 roughly recruited himself, what chance would he have 
 with so powerful an enemy as Jonathan Wild ? 
 
 The latter part of the day, however— that is to say, 
 from noon till dark— seemed to pass with great slowness' 
 for ho deemed it injudicious to show himself by daylight. 
 Jonathan Wild was under the impression that he was 
 no more, and things might so turn out as to make it ad- 
 visable for him to continue so. 
 
 In obedience to his wishes, the landlord had started off 
 to London to purchase him a disguise, and with the aid 
 of which Blake trusted to keep Wild in ignorance of his 
 existence, while, at the same time, he should be able to 
 make inquiries a3 to the fate of Jack Sheppard and Ed°-- 
 worth Bess. 
 
 At about eight o'clock, however, by which time it was 
 quite dark, being fully equipped, he had his horse saddled 
 and brought round to the front door of the inn. 
 
 Not his most intimate acquaintance would havo recog- 
 nised him as he mounted. 
 
 Yet he did not carry with him an appearance of being 
 disguised. On the contrary, any one would have taken 
 it to_ be his natural character. 
 
 His ordinary attire had been exchanged for one that 
 suited his tall and well-built form most admirably. 
 
 It was one best calculated to show off the proportions 
 of the human frame/and in its style about as picturesque 
 as could be well imagined. 
 
 To-day such a costume would attracta very Teat deal 
 of notice, but then, when greater latitude was allowed 
 in dress, it was thought nothing of, though many of the 
 fairer sex might have been induced to look twice at its 
 wearer. 
 A few lines will serve to give the reader an idea of it 
 We will beam with his head, upon which ho wore a 
 light flaxen peruke, very tastefully arranged, and termi- 
 nating in a queue, or tail, which hung down on to his back 
 and was soGuied at the extremity by a bow of black- 
 silk ribbon. 
 
 il^ 3 ^ 3,3 surm ° UIlt ed by a black felt hat, turned up 
 at the brim, and edged with a narrow border of gold lace 
 
 ^ His coat, which was of marone-coloured velvet, fitted 
 ciosely to his form, and was likewise trimmed with gold 
 lace, but of a wider description and more elaborate 
 pattern than that round the rim of his hat. 
 
 The sleeves at the upper part near the shoulders fitted 
 tagHtly, but they gradually widened to the wrist, where 
 they were turned back, so a3 to form a cuff, which was 
 so deep as almost to reach the elbow. 
 
 Below these cuffs were some spotlessly white laoe 
 ruffles, which, when the hand was held downwards, fell 
 over and concealed even the tips of the fingers,
 
 140 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Then the waistcoat fvhich was almost as large as coats 
 are now-a-days, was of bright amber-coloured satin, and 
 came quite over the hips. 
 
 It was buttoned closely from the top — just ■llowmg 
 a white lace neckcloth to be visible — until. within about 
 four buttons from the bottom. The edges were very 
 prettily embroidered with black silk, and had an appear- 
 ance of great richness. 
 
 Then below the waistcoat appeared small rlothes of 
 white leather, similar to those worn by the Hor % o Guards 
 at the present day. His highly-polished riding-boots, too, 
 were like theirs, except that they did not come quite so 
 high up above the knee. 
 
 A richly-mounted sword, with a glittering hilt, com- 
 pleted his costume. 
 
 If the foregoing description conveys a clear idea to the 
 reader's mind, he will not fail to perceive that his exterior 
 was aristocratic and imposing to a degree. He would, 
 in fact, be taken for one of those young bloods who 
 haunted the fashionable quarter of the metropolis, _, 
 
 Blueskin was an accomplished rider, and the manner 
 in which he mounted and fixed himself iirmly in the seat, 
 would have been sufficient to convince any one of it. 
 
 In this position, too, he was seen to the greatest 
 advantage, and the landlord gazed upon him admiringly. 
 
 His horse was well rested, and obeyed the impulse 
 forward which he gave it with the utmost willingness. 
 
 There is one thing we almost forgot to mention, and 
 that is the peculiar appearance of his countenance, which 
 would have enabled any one who had once seen him to 
 recognise him. 
 
 But Blake himself had not forgotten it. At his request 
 the landlord had brought him a box of cosmetio pre- 
 paration, with which he had covered his face, and oblite- 
 rated all traces of the dusky blue tinge which it wore. 
 
 So artfully, too, and cleverly was this done, that except 
 upon a very close inspection, it could not possibly be 
 perceived. 
 
 Eecognition, he felt sure, provided he took ordinary 
 care would be impossible. 
 
 And certainly no disguise could be better calculated 
 to deceive Jonathan Wild. Supposing he should find 
 his body had disappeared from the turret-chamber, or 
 learned in any way that his life had been preserved, he 
 would never think of looking for his old associate wear- 
 ing such a garb. 
 
 The only thing he would have to do would be to keep 
 up the character 
 
 The distanoe to London was but short, and consequently 
 soon performed ; but he was careful to go at an easy rate, 
 because by so doing he would be less likely to attract 
 notice. 
 
 It gave him the opportunity to think over the best 
 plan to be pursued to gain his ends. 
 
 A thousand half-formed schemes flitted before his 
 imagination, yet he could not find one tangible, or that 
 carried with it any reasonable prospect of success. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was a difficult man to deal with, and 
 no one was much better acquainted with that fact than he 
 was himself. 
 
 He rode as far as the " Saracen's Head," in Skinner- 
 street, without coming to any definite arrangement. 
 To be sure, one scheme haunted his mind more than any 
 other, but it was one that required an inordinate amount 
 of boldness to carry out. 
 
 And yet it might, perhaps, stand all the better chance 
 on that very account ; for to attempt to foil Wild by 
 over-reaching him in cunning would be simply ridiculous. 
 
 The ostler, perceiving Blueskin's very distinguished 
 appearance, received him with the utmost obseqit ->us- 
 ness. 
 
 Then, having given the man some particular instruc- 
 tions, Blake strolled up Skinner-street, and passed the 
 Old Bailey to Jonathan Wild's house. 
 
 It was on the opposite side of the street that he walked. 
 
 He was thus enabled to get a good view of it. 
 
 As usual, no light could be perceived at any one of the 
 windows of the thief- taker's dwelling. To have seen it, 
 one would havo thought it uninhabited. 
 
 No one appeared to be observing him, but still B^se 
 did not know what unknown eye might be upon him. so 
 he sauntered slowly by the house, and apparently taking 
 no more notice of that one than lie did of its neighbours. 
 
 And leat even his turning baok too soon ahouH pro 
 
 voke suspicion, lw walked right on to the corner of St. 
 Martin's-le-Grand. 
 
 He paused here listlessly for a moment, and then re- 
 traced his steps. 
 
 But his caution was superfluous. The hour was an 
 early one, but still very few people indeed were abroad. 
 
 In fact, as we have more than once stated in the course 
 of this narrative, nothing but the most urgent necessity 
 would take anyone into the streets after the lamps were 
 lighted, which was the signal for all manner of depreda- 
 tions to begin. 
 
 At a still slower pace Blueskin went back. He looked 
 up at the house again, but with the same result. 
 
 " I wonder," he muttered, " what I had better do. I 
 shall learn nothing by walking to and fro in front of the 
 house, for I havo seen all I can. Are they in there ? 
 That is the question I must first have answered. If I 
 know, I should then be able to act. Is Jonathan himself 
 at home, too ? I ought to learn that, and, if possible, 
 what have been the occurrences of the past few days. I 
 will go in here, and trust to my disguise being good 
 enough to preserve mo from being recognised." 
 
 He reached that public-house in Newgate-street as he 
 spoke, which must, from the singularity of its sign, be 
 well known. 
 
 It is on the north side of Newgate-street, and nearly 
 facing the stone wall at the end of the prison. 
 
 The sign is the " Magpie and Stump." 
 
 From its contiguity it was much used by Wild'a 
 janizaries — in fact, it was very seldom but that one, if 
 not more of them, were in the house. 
 
 In his proper character, Blueskin had been there times 
 out of number, and so he was putting his disguise to a 
 very severe test when he determined to go in there and 
 endeavour to obtain what information he required. 
 
 It is more than probable that, if he had stayed to 
 rsSect, he would not have entered ; but, as it was, no 
 sooner did he frame the resolution than he executed it. 
 
 He made his way down the passage until he came to 
 a door, which opened into the front room where the com- 
 pany usually assembled. 
 
 A fire that was smouldering in the grate, and an oil- 
 lamp depending from the ceiling, showed him the in- 
 mates. 
 
 They were two men, who were seated at a small table 
 on one side of the room, and Flood and Levee, who had 
 placed themselves on a screen which servod to keep off 
 the draught of the door. 
 
 All looked up as Blake entered, but their attontion 
 only rested upon him for a moment. 
 
 In fact, they gave merely a casual glance, as anyone 
 would do upon a new-comer entering an apartment in 
 which they sat. 
 
 He was glad to see they did not recognise him. 
 
 He crossed the room and sat down on the window 
 seat, and called for something to drink. 
 
 In doing this he took care to assume the swaggering 
 air which the wearer of such a dress as his was would 
 assume. 
 
 While he did it he took care to fix his eyes upon his two 
 old companions, and note the effect it had upon them. 
 
 Something in the tones appeared to reach their ears 
 with a familiar sound, for they looked up quickly and 
 inquisitively. 
 
 But they took no further notice. 
 
 As he sat upon the window-seat, Blake found he could, 
 by drawing aside the curtain a little way, look out into 
 the street. 
 
 The door of the thief-taker's abode was nearly oppo- 
 site to him, but although it was in deep shadow, he wa3 
 certain, so long as he remained where he was, no one 
 could either go in or out of it without his knowledge. 
 
 So he sat there, and watched. 
 
 CHAPTEE XCVI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD RETURNS TO HIS HOME AT A 
 RATHER CRITICAL AND EXCITING MOMENT. 
 
 Had anyone asked Blueskin for what it was ho watched , 
 or what benefit he would obtain by so doing, he would 
 havo been at a loss for a reply. 
 
 The fact was, it was more in obedience to a sudden 
 impulse than auything else that be had entered the place 
 ac all, and when he wi° there, and sat looking out of the
 
 BMTEBKrNi A ROMANOH. 
 
 ut 
 
 window, it was more in a listless sort of way than anything 
 else, and all the while he was revolving in his brain what 
 would be his best course of action. 
 
 How long he thus sat he knew not, but he was suddenly 
 Aroused by perceiving the door of Jonathan Wild's.house 
 thrown open. 
 
 The lamp in the hall cast a beam of light on to the road- 
 way, and revealed two figures standing on the doorstep. 
 
 One was the man on the lock, who was holding the 
 door open. 
 
 The other was Jonathan Wild. • '•• 
 
 There could be no doubt of that. The outlines of his 
 figure were well and sharply defined by the bright light 
 behind him, and Blueskin was too well acquainted with 
 hisilooks to fall into any mistake. 
 
 Hejlet the blind fall, allowing himself only the smallest 
 crevice to peep through. 
 
 Wild's eyes, he knew, were preternaturally keen, and 
 seeing some one watching might in a moment have made 
 him suspicious that something unusual was going on. 
 
 Still he did not lose sight of his object. 
 
 It would seem that Jonathan addressed some words 
 to the man on the lock, and then he descended the steps 
 into the street. 
 
 The door was closed. 
 
 In the darkness he could Lardly distinguish the burly 
 form of the thief-taker, but by not removing his eye3 
 from him he managed to do so. 
 
 Wild went in the direction of the Old Bailey, but at 
 the corner he stopped and hailed a hackney-coach. 
 
 In a minute more he entered it, and was driven off. 
 
 This little incident filled Blueskin with thought. 
 
 Where Jonathan might have gone, or what was the 
 business upon which he was engaged, did not occupy him 
 for a minute. That would have been fruitless speculation. 
 
 It had the effect of determining him to attempt to 
 carry out a plan, the details of which he had been settling 
 in his mind. 
 
 It was bold and daring in the extreme, and that was 
 all that could be said of it, without we add the word rash. 
 
 Yet it was one that had some prospect of success, and 
 after Wild's departure, the more he reflected, the more 
 decided he became to carry it out. 
 
 Levee and Flood were seated just as they were when 
 he came in, and there did not seem to be any symptom 
 of their quitting their present quarters for some time 
 to come. 
 
 He waited a minute, and then rose. 
 
 The reckoning he had already paid, so he had nothing 
 to do but to walk out. 
 
 On reaching the street, he again looked up at Wild's 
 house. 
 
 " It is a desperate chance," he said, " but it shall be 
 tried, at all events. I can see no other means by which 
 I can ascertain the fates of those for whose sakes alone 
 I care to live." 
 
 He crossed over as he spoke. 
 
 What he was about to do we shall quickly eeo, but 
 we will venture to assert that it will surprise the reader. 
 
 Springing up the steps before the door, he seized the 
 knocker with his right hand, and knocked furiously. 
 
 A gentle summons, he knew, [would meet with no 
 attention. The door was quickly opened. 
 
 But Blueskin was in readiness for action. 
 
 With one well-directed and terrific blo^ of his 
 clenched fist, he laid the man prostrate. 
 
 So suddenly, too, was the deed performed, that it 
 created no alarm, and before the man at the grating 
 had recovered from his astonishment, Blake had closed 
 the door, properly secured it, and sprang forward and 
 clutched him by the throat in such a manner, thai ho 
 had scarcely power to gasp for breath, let alone call out 
 for assistance. < s 
 
 A moment's continuation of the pressure, and the 
 man turned black in the face, and then fell backwards, 
 either insensible, or dead. 
 
 It was now time for Blueskin to turn his attention', a 
 the man he had knocked down, and who, by various move- 
 ments, showed that he was fast recovering his senses. 
 
 He must be speedy, too, in what he was going to do, 
 for before long some one would be sure to come down 
 to the hall, though he had calculated that about that 
 time in the evening it would be deserted by all but *he 
 two men on guara. 
 
 With great dexterity he stripped off Arnold's neok- 
 cloth — for he it was he had knocked down — and twist- 
 ing it up in the fashion of a rope, placed it in his mouth, 
 and then tied it tightly at the back of his head. 
 
 The stout leathern belt, from which his hanger was 
 suspended, served as a means of fastening his armi 
 behind hia baok, and then he was quite helpless, either 
 to cry out or move. 
 
 This done, Blueskin, with all the speed he could make, 
 hurried to the man who had charge of the iron-grated 
 door leading to the cells. 
 
 No signs of returning animation, however, were 
 there. 
 
 Stooping down, he felt about his person for his keys, 
 and as he knew exactly where to look, he quickly pos- 
 sessed himself of them. 
 
 To open the grating took him but a moment. 
 
 The stone staircase was beyond. 
 
 Lifting his foot, he, with one kick, sent the unfortu- 
 nate man rolling down it. 
 
 Ho fell against the door at the bottom with a crash, 
 i *He was hardly there, however, before Blueskin was 
 himself. 
 
 The key of this door he had ready in his hand, and 
 thrusting it into the keyhole, he shot the bolt back. 
 
 To one so familiar with the intricacies of the plaoe as 
 Blueskin was, the task of searching the whole thoroughly 
 was by no means a matter of difficulty. 
 
 The bunch of keys he held would, he knew, open every 
 door there was, and so, one after another, he flung them 
 back. 
 
 At each one ho called out the names of Jack and Edg- 
 worth Bess, but although he tried down all one side of 
 the corridor, not one of the oells did he find tenanted. 
 
 Crossing over, he began the other way, for the seoret 
 door, leading to the other cells he resolved to leave till 
 afterwards. 
 
 The second he came to was occupied by some one, but 
 it was neither of those he sought. 
 
 He cast but one glanoe upon this person, for he had 
 no time, nor had he inclination, to ask questions or lose 
 precious time. 
 
 His life, he knew, depended upon his speed, for that 
 the state of things in the hall above could continue for 
 any length of time without discovery by some one, was 
 impossible. 
 
 Three more doors were opened fruitlessly, and then he 
 came to the cell in which Steggs was confined, though, 
 of course, he knew it not. 
 
 Looking very much the worse for his sojourn in that 
 dark, pestiferous place, the villain who had been the 
 means of causing Edgworth Bess so much trouble, came 
 forth. 
 
 Blueskin recognised him instantly, and an angry look 
 shot from his eyes. 
 
 But he smothered his resentment, ana went on with 
 his task. 
 
 Steggs, however, did not remember to have ever seen 
 the handsome cavalier who unlocked his prison-door, 
 but he noticed his angry glance, and his coward heart 
 sank within him. 
 
 He cowered down upon the cold flagstones in the cor- 
 ridor, and crawled along abjectly after his debverer, 
 entreating him to spare his life ; but Blueskin was by far 
 too intent upon the business he had in hand to pay any 
 heed to him. 
 
 As the reader is aware, his search was a vain one, 
 for both Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess had left tho 
 house. 
 
 Convinced that they were not in the outer cells, ne 
 ran to the secret door, opened it, passed through, and 
 searched them, but with the same result. 
 
 A groan came from his lips, when he assured himself 
 that they really were neither of them there. 
 
 In fact, so far did his feelings overcome him, tnat he 
 was obliged to cling to the doorpost for a moment or so 
 to keep himself from falling. 
 
 But, mastering himself by a great effort, he strove to 
 think what he had better do. 
 
 His worst forebodings were confirmed. 
 
 " It will be vain to search further," he said. " Jona- 
 than has either destroyed them, or hidden them in some 
 place where it will be impossible for me to find them. 
 Curses on his caution !" 
 
 /
 
 142 
 
 BLUESKIN t A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Spare ine !" said Steggs, in louder and more suppli- ) 
 eating tones, for, having overheard Blake's words, ho 
 gathered he was an enemy of Wild's. "Spare me I Lot 
 me go free from this place, and I will bles3 you. Time 
 back, before I became the tenant of that frightful dun- 
 geon, I was an evil man, and ready to commit any deed, 
 however desperate. But all that is altered now. Spare 
 me !" 
 
 " Spare me, too !" said another voice, which .■ > ame rrom 
 the man he had first released. " Spare me, a;?d I too 
 will bless you, and do all I can to serve you." 
 
 "Stand aside, then," exclaimed Blueskin, "and let 
 me pass, or I shall be a companion in your captivity*. 
 You can follow me if you choose.|I should not think of 
 hindering you, but you will most likely find that you 
 will have to fight your way to freedom." 
 
 " We will do that — we will do that !" they cried, as 
 they rose to their feet ; and having allowed Blake to 
 
 Sass them, they followed him along the corridor in the 
 bection of its exit. 
 
 Had Blueskin only been in possession of the secret 
 means of leaving Wild's house at the back, and making 
 his way through the old n .arket, all would have been 
 easy, and he would have escaped a frightful danger. 
 
 But he did not know of it. 
 
 Grasping his sword firmly by the hilt, and holding in 
 his left hand a double-barrelled pistol, he ran up the 
 steps to the iron grating. 
 
 Ere, however, he reached the top, he hoard a well- 
 known sound. 
 
 It was a key rattling in the lock. 
 
 He felt that a crisis had now arrived. 
 
 Discovery was inevitable, for it was Jonathan Wild 
 himself who was seeking an entrance to his own domicile. 
 
 CHAPTER XCVII. 
 
 JACKSHEPPARD PRACTISES A SUCCESSFUL MANOEUVRE, 
 WHICH RESULTS IN WILKINSON'S TOTAL DISCOMFI- 
 TURE. 
 
 Despite the perilous position in which our friend 
 Bluoskin is placed, on the staircase leading to the cells, 
 we shall be obliged to leave him for a short time, while 
 we devote a portion of our attention to the considera- 
 tion of the fortunes of one of the chief actors in the story, 
 and who has not for some time appeared in our pages. 
 
 The reader will guess that the person in question is 
 Jack Sheppard — that strange compound of good and 
 evil — who, it will be remembered, we last saw as he 
 darted round the corner of Warwick-lane, fearful that 
 Wild would alter his mind. 
 
 Why he took this direction, his heart alone couldjtell. 
 
 It was the street into which he knew EdgworthBess 
 would emerge when she left the market. 
 
 With that remarkable cunning, of which Jonathan 
 possessed so large a quantity, he had allowed him to go 
 free, or rather appeared to do so, from the conviction 
 that he would find Edgworth Bess quicker than anyone 
 else, because he would have a powerful motive to urge 
 him on to make every exertion. 
 
 And in this calculation he was most unquestionably 
 correct. 
 
 Then, as for Jack himself, (not withstanding the hypo- 
 critical sentences he had uttered, his feelings and inten- 
 tions towards him were still unchanged, and he had, in 
 a manner of speaking, set him about as free as a cat 
 sometimes does a mouse — that is, takes care the prey 
 does not get out of its reach. 
 
 So with Wilkinson, who, as the reader knows, he had 
 Bet to dog Jack's footsteps. His orders were that he 
 should follow him every where — not lose sight of him for 
 a moment, but, as frequently as occasion required, or 
 opportunity offered, report his exact whereabouts. 
 
 By this means it is easy to see what a -tool Jack was 
 made of. e 
 
 • That Jonathan's plan would be crowned with success 
 there seemed every indication. All that was necessary 
 was for Wilkinson to perform his part, and one would 
 have thought that was easy enough. 
 
 We shall see how he got on. 
 
 As we said, Jack darted round the corner of Warwick- 
 lane, but before he had gone a dozen steps down it, he 
 paused to listen whether any sounds of pursuit reaohed 
 his ears. 
 
 Nothing, however, broke the silenoe. 
 
 He rubbed his head thoughtfully. 
 
 "I can't make it out," he said ; *" I can't make it out 
 at all ! What is Jonathan's game ? Was he really in 
 earnest in what he said about me ? He seemed sincere ; 
 besides, why did he let me go free ? It is clesr he meant 
 to do so, or he would have sent soma one after me. I've 
 half a mind to go back and tell him how vexed I am that 
 I left him as I did. No, I won't, though : that will keep 
 till another time, especially as he is a man that does not 
 care much about politeness. I must find Bess. Where 
 can she have gone ? Not far, perhaps. She may even 
 be somewhere nearjthe market. I will go and see, for 
 all seems quiet and safe." 
 
 Thus speaking, or rather thinking, Jack made his way 
 down the narrow, unsavoury i thoroughfare, until he 
 reached the large gateway leading into the market. 
 
 Here he waited and listened. 
 
 All, however, was as still as the grave. 
 
 The place itself was quite empty and deserted, for it 
 was the hour when the latest stayers had gone, and the 
 earliest comers had not arrived. 
 
 Finding all so silent, he ventured to raise his voice, 
 and call upon Edgworth Bess — first, only just above a 
 whisper, and then rising in tone until it became a shout. 
 
 But the echoing reverberations of his voice was the 
 only response which he obtained. 
 
 There was a dull, oppressive feeling of coming ill about 
 his heart, when the fact was forced upon him that the 
 girl he sought was nowhere within hearing of his voice, 
 and he looked up and down the empty street, fearfully 
 and forebodingly. 
 
 " Where has she gone ?" he cried — " where has she 
 gone ? Unknowing her course, or what may have be- 
 fallen her, what chance have I of finding her agam ? 
 Oh ! if Blueskin had but been spared— if I had him 
 now by my side to advise mo and consult with — I should 
 be glad. But such regrets are useless, though I can 
 yet avenge his death. And I will do it, even as he would 
 have avenged mine." 
 
 He was silent for a moment. 
 
 "But first," he said, " the whole of my energies — the 
 whole of my attention — shall be devoted to the task of 
 finding the poor girl, who has, in so short a period of 
 time seen so much suffering. If ill befalls her, Jona- 
 than Wild, beware ! for you shall bitterly rue the day 
 when you took part against her." 
 
 The slight accession of passion which he felt, soon 
 passed away, and then he set about the task of search- 
 ing on the ground, in the hope that by so doing he 
 might discover something that would give him a clue 
 to the route she had taken. 
 
 But in the hope of doing this he was disappointed. 
 There was not the smallest object that would serve to 
 guide him anywhere to be seen. 
 
 With the conviction pressing upon him that he must 
 trust to chance alone to aid him, he walked slowly and 
 dejectedly towards Paternoster-row. 
 
 At Amen-corner he halted. 
 
 Two roads lay before him — either of which might have 
 been taken by the object of his search, and both leading 
 in opposite directions. 
 
 One was Paternoster-row. 
 
 The other Ave-Maria-lane. 
 
 He was irresolute. 
 
 In her perturbation of mind, he thought it probable 
 enough that she might have taken either of them, with- 
 out giving it a thought which would be the safest. 
 
 " If she considered at all," he said, " she would try 
 to find her way to Drury-lane. The only friends she 
 knows of are there. I will go and see if she has done so." 
 
 Having come to this determination, ho walked on as far 
 as Ludgate-hill ; and, although he knew it not, treading 
 almost in the footsteps of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The clock in St. Paul's cathedral chimed three- 
 quarters past something, but what the hour was, Jack 
 had not an accurate idea. 
 
 " She must have gone to Drury-lane!" he repeated, 
 as he turned the corner. " The more I think of it the 
 more certain I feel that that is what she would do. How 
 foolish it wt 3 of me to feel so alarmed as I did ! It ia 
 all right enough ! Quite ! — What's that ?" 
 
 A slight sound from somewhore behind him now 
 arrested his attention.
 
 BLT7ESKIN! A ROMANCE. 
 
 « 
 
 Upon looking back, which he did instantly and in- 
 stinctively, he saw the dusky figure of a man. 
 
 Who it was he had no idea. - 
 
 " Some late passenger, I suppose," he said, as he con- 
 tinued on his way ; " and yet, where did he oome fron> ■* 
 How is it I did not hear his footstep before ?" 
 
 These questions aroused a little suspicion in Jack's 
 breast, although the thought that some one had been 
 Bet to watch him by Wild did not occur to him. 
 
 Jack slackened his pace a little, in the hope that who- 
 ever it was behind him would pass hiin ; but this was 
 not done, and he soon found his own anxiety and im- 
 patience too great for him to loiter. 
 
 Accordingly he resumed his wonted pace. 
 
 Even as Bess had done about an hour before him, 
 he reached that part of Ludgate-bill where it i3 divided 
 from Fleet-street by Fleet-market. 
 
 Now all about this spot was quite silent, and showed 
 no traces of the presence of those who had hunted the 
 poor girl like some wild animal through the streets 
 
 What has been her fate ? 
 
 We shudder as we ask the question. 
 
 Jack heard the footsteps behind him slowly approach. 
 
 " I will cross over," he muttered. " It may be some 
 one who has an object in tracking me, for my escape 
 from Newgate is doubtless by this time pretty widely 
 known. I will cross over, and if he attempts to follow 
 me up Fleet-street, I will dispose of him." 
 
 With these words on his lias, Jack crossed the street, 
 and then listened with some eagerness whether the man 
 behind followed him. He did so. 
 
 Yet Jack thought it might be the result of accident, 
 and that he should keep straight on was only natural. 
 
 Before he took any steps, therefore, to get rid of him, 
 it would be necessary to obtain further evidence that 
 he was actually following in his track. 
 
 " I will run," said Jack, " and that as fast as possible. 
 Not only will it take me sooner to my destination, but 
 set all my doubts at rest." 
 
 Without delay, Jack set off at a speed that was really 
 surprising. 
 
 Wilkinson, who was behind, seeing this sudden move- 
 ment, and being fearful that his prey would escape him. 
 began to run too, and that at a prodigious rate. 
 
 He had, in fact, trained himself to running, and 
 there were very few indeed who could surpass him. 
 
 Add now Jack, having ascertained that the man 
 behind was really in pursuit of him, resolved to put an 
 end to it, for although he might have distanced him by 
 running, yet he did not desire to try. 
 
 Therefore, finding that his pursuer was coming on 
 after him at full-speed, he suddenly dropped down upon 
 his hands and knees in the middle of the path. 
 
 It was too dark, and Jack was too far off, for Wilkin- 
 son to see the movement ; but he heard the sudden ces- 
 sation of his rapid steps, and so, fearful that he had 
 eluded him in some way or other, rushed blindly on 
 with redoubled speed. 
 
 Intent on looking before him, he did not notice the 
 dark form crouching down in his path, and the conse- 
 quence was, he caught his feet against him. 
 
 Over he went in a moment, with his head ploughing 
 the stones, and his heels in the air. 
 
 Such, too, was his impetuosity, that he scudded along 
 for several feet before he could stop himself. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, in spite of the anxiety that was tug- 
 ging at his heart, could not forbear a laugh as ho wit- 
 nessed the complete discomfiture of his foe. 
 He quickly scrambled to his feet. * 
 
 Then, walking to where Wilkinson lay immovable 
 upon the stones, he kicked him over on to his back. 
 
 The light from a contiguous oil-lamp fell upon his 
 face and figure. 
 
 " Why, it's Jonathan Wild's man," he said. " What 
 did he want after me ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XCVIIl. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD FINDS A TRACE OP POOR BESS WITK- 
 OUT KNOWING IT, AND IS ATTACKED BY THE OFFI- 
 CERS AT THE INN. 
 
 This was one of those questions which was more easily 
 asked thaa answered; but nevertheless, it But Jack 
 thinking, 
 
 But acute as he generally was, his intellect was not 
 subtle enough to enable him to arrive at a true solution 
 of the affair, though that there was something more in 
 Wild setting him free than could bo perceived at a first 
 glance, he felt quite certain. 
 
 He stooped down over the form of the prostrate 
 janizary, to ascertain if possible the extent of his in- 
 juries, and obtain some information from him. 
 
 But Wilkinson's head was not hard enough to stand 
 with impunity such a crack as it had had upon the hard 
 flagstones. He lay like a log of wood. 
 
 Finding there was no chance of doing as he desired, 
 and not wishing to delay in reaching the " Black Lion," 
 he rose and left him to his fate. 
 
 But the thought occurring to him that he was unarmed, 
 and that circumstances might arise when the possession 
 of weapons would be of the utmost importance to hiin, 
 he stooped down to ascertain what his foe carried. 
 
 In his capacious coat-pockets he found a brace of 
 pistols, primed and loaded. 
 At his girdle a belt carrying a hanger. 
 Of these he possessed himself, as well as of a formid- 
 able-looking clasp-knife, which had a spring in the 
 back to keep the blade from closing. 
 
 The stout oaken cudgel, or bludgeon, he thought it 
 hardly worth while to encumber himself with. 
 
 To do all this occupied scarcely two minutes, and he 
 then set off at a run down the street. 
 
 Temple-bar was quickly passed, and the open space 
 in the Strand, called Picket-place, in which St. Clement 
 Dane's church is situated, gained. 
 
 _ Keeping the church-railings on his left hand he shaped 
 
 his course in a straight line to the bottom of Wy ch-street. 
 
 But in his progress he suddenly trod upon something 
 
 soft and slippery, and although he strived to regain his 
 
 footing, he was precipitated to the ground. 
 
 An execration came from his lips at this untoward 
 incident. 
 _ He was soon up again, but in assisting himself to 
 rise, he put his hand into some cold, sticky substance 
 which sent an involuntary shudder through his whole 
 body. 
 
 Full of curiosity to know what it was, and yet having 
 a pretty good idea, he held up his hand to look. 
 
 Just where he stood there was rather more light than 
 in other places, which may be accounted for by the 
 buildings being further apart from each other than they 
 are in the streets. 
 
 The new day was coming, and the sky overhead wore 
 a dull, leaden tinge. 
 
 But it shed some faint amount of illumination upon 
 the earth. 
 Jack looked at his hand. 
 It was covered with blood. 
 
 "Just what I thought," he said ; and with his other 
 hand he felt the different parts of his clothes. " I am 
 covered ! What will be thought by those who see me ? 
 Confound it ! what can have been the matter ? There's 
 a good quantity of blood upon the ground," he added, 
 as ho looked down. " There's been a regular fight, I 
 should think, and half a dozen people bled to death !" 
 Jack spoke lightly. 
 
 How changed would have been the accents of his voice 
 had he but known the real facts of the case — that the 
 spot upon which he then stood was where Edgworth Bes3 
 had been hemmed in by the Mohawks not an hour before. 
 Perhaps it was as well that he was spared that know- 
 ledge for the present, or it would assuredly have driven 
 him mad. 
 
 And yet some mysterious influence seemed to be at 
 work — one of those presentiments of coming evil, which 
 all of us must more than once have experienced, over- 
 shadowed his soul. 
 
 It was in vain he tried to struggle against the feeling. 
 So far from dissipating it, all he seemed to do wa3 to 
 make its proportions more terrifying and gigantic. 
 
 Three minutes now,however,atthe most, and he would 
 know the worst. 
 
 Gladly would he have ran along Wych-street, but his 
 agitation was too great, anl his heart palpitated too 
 quickly for him to be able to do so. 
 
 Then he reached the house in which, although heJBMW 
 it not, the happiest days of his life had been spent. 
 It was that of his master, Julin Hoots. |
 
 144 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAWC*. 
 
 Never since that lAght when he was first introduced to 
 the readers of this narrative, standing in the street, with 
 clenched hands and heaving breast, ponvingout maledic- 
 tions upon his master, had he passed this spot, and now 
 it was not possible for him to do so without emotion. 
 
 Anger yet burned fiorcely in his breast as he thought 
 of his real and imaginary wrongs, but he did not stay 
 to give them utterance. 
 
 He hurried on. 
 
 The door of the " Black Lion" was reashed. 
 
 It was open and the shutters were dowu, but there 
 came from within no sounds of drunken merriment or 
 quarrel such as might be heard in any one of the twenty- 
 four hours. 
 
 All was silent and deserted. 
 
 The stillness of the place, and the different aspect 
 which it wore from what it had upon the other occasions 
 when he had seen it, increased Jack's agitation, and he 
 was forced to cling to the door-post for support. 
 
 But recovering himself by an almost superhuman 
 effort, he staggered in. 
 
 He pushed open the swinging half-glass door which 
 was hung a few feet inside the passage. 
 
 The inside of the house looked dark and dreary. 
 
 No living person was in sight. 
 
 He had all the inclination to call for some one, but 
 his tongue refused to obey the mandate of his will. 
 
 Well acquainted with the road as he was, he did not 
 experience any difficulty, although it was so dark, in 
 making his way into the kitchen where ho had received 
 an avowal of love from the young girl whose champion 
 he had so strangely become. 
 
 No one was there. 
 
 In fact, that happened to be just the time when the 
 least business was doing at the inn — that hour indeed, 
 when ^London in all respects resembles a city of the 
 dead. 
 
 A footstep, however, soon disturbed the silence of the 
 place, and Jack waited anxiously for it to approach. 
 
 That it was nearing the kitchen he felt confident. 
 
 He leant back against one of the tables, and clutched 
 its edges nervously with both hands. 
 
 A fire still burned in the grate, and diffused a faint, 
 ruddy light around it, and by the aid of this he saw 
 enter the kitchen a strange apology for a human being in 
 the shape of a servant. 
 
 Dirty and ragged, with her eyes more than half-closed 
 with sleep, she tottered in. 
 
 She was maid-of-all-work to the establishment. 
 
 Jack spoke. 
 
 One would have thought that the unexpected sound 
 of a human voice would have startled her sensibilities, 
 but, alas ! that it should be so, she had no sensibilities 
 to startle. 
 
 "With an anxiety of which none of the readers of this 
 history can conceive an adequate idea, Jack asked this 
 benighted being questions the answers to which would 
 either set all his doubts at 'rest, and send a shrill of 
 unutterable delight through his whole body, or fill him 
 with horror, despair, and anguish. 
 
 He fairly groaned aloud when he was assured that the 
 poor, prosecuted girl had most certainly not arrived, nor 
 been seen by any one about the place since the occasion 
 of her last mysterious leaving of it. 
 
 " Where is Johnson ?" Jack gasped, at length. 
 " Where is he? I must see him. Where is he f" 
 
 " A-bed !" said the servant, gruffly; "and I vallys 
 my 'ed more 'n to go and wake him." 
 
 " I will go," said Jack. " Show me his room. Where 
 is it P" 
 
 But before the servant could reply, there was a Ridden 
 rush of footsteps in the passage. 
 
 Jack's eyes had grown familiar to the semi-darkness in 
 the place, and a glance showed him that those who had 
 entered so hastily were police-officers. 
 
 Then his eyes were dazzled by the broad, bright beam 
 of light, which issued through the lens of a dark lantern, 
 which was carried by one of them. 
 
 " That's him," cried a voice, immediately. " Hurrah ! 
 we have him safe enough. There he is !" 
 
 The men, who were in number about a dozen, pre- 
 cipitated themselves into the room as they spoke, and 
 almost before Jack could recover from hi=> surprise at 
 their first appearance. 
 
 But recovering himself instantaneously, he drew the 
 brace of pistols he had taken from Wilkinson's pocket, 
 and, pointing them at the throng of officers, commanded 
 them to draw back. 
 
 At the same time he retreated further iuto the kitchen. 
 with the firm resolution of selling his life dearly, and ol 
 not allowing himself to be captured alive. 
 
 The officers completely blocked up the doorway of tho 
 kitchen, so it was impossible for him to think of making 
 his escape from them that way. 
 
 The police themselves hesitated a little when they saw 
 Jack's determined behaviour, and he took advantage of 
 it to adroitly plaoe a table between himself and them. 
 
 It was hut a poor barrier, it is true, but still it was 
 better than nothing. 
 
 The hesitation of the officers, however, was but mo- 
 mentary. One, who appeared to be in command of tho 
 rest, gave the word for them to rush forward and secure 
 their prisoner. 
 
 They obeyed, and rushed forward in a compact body, 
 strong enough to carry all before it. 
 
 The table behind which Jack had. intrenched himself 
 was overturned. 
 
 Then two shots were fired. 
 
 The report of the pistols rang out witn great effect 
 in the confined space. 
 
 The place was filled with smoke, blue and pungent, 
 which much increased the difficulty of perceiving objects . 
 
 Some curses and groans arose, which showed that the 
 pistols had not been discharged without doing execution. 
 
 Two of tho officers had, in fact, been hit, and severely 
 wounded. 
 
 The remainder dispersed themselves about the kitchen, 
 searching into all the corners they could find with the 
 blades of their cutlasses, and flashing their lanterns 
 about them. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard had disappeared. 
 
 CHAPTER XCIX. 
 
 THE POOK WIDOW WOMAN ASSISTS JACK TO CONCEAL 
 HIMSELF PROM HIS FOES. 
 
 At the moment the officer in command gave the order for 
 the others to charge, Jack drew back from the table, and 
 turning round, made his way across the kitchen to whero 
 he knew the stairs were situated. 
 
 The only chance he had of escape was to mount them 
 before the officers were aware of it, and this, under the 
 cover of the darkness, he was able to do. 
 
 To better conceal his retreat, he had hastily aimed his 
 pistols at the police, and pulled the triggers ; then with- 
 out waiting an instant, opened the door at the foot of 
 the staircase, and having closed it after him as silently 
 as he could, bounded up. 
 
 Everything now would depend upon the rapidity of 
 his movements, for he did not anticipate that the police 
 could be long in ignorance of the way he had gone. 
 
 In fact, ere he had well reaohed the first landing a 
 loud cry from those below made him aware they already 
 suspected the means by which he had made his exit. 
 
 Fain would he have called upon Johnson for assistance, 
 and which he made no doubt he would have been well 
 able to afford him. 
 
 But to have cried out would have been to point to his 
 whereabouts and entail discovery, so he was altogether 
 thrown upon his own rescources. 
 
 His situation was a critical and perilous one, indeed, 
 for though there might be many hiding-places in the 
 building, yet he was not in a position to turn them to 
 any advantage. 
 
 He had never made an examination of fche upper part 
 of the house — had, in fact, never visited it except upon 
 one occasion, and there was no knowing how soon he 
 might run into a corner, and be unable to escape 
 
 That risk — and a fearful one it was, he would have 
 to run, and trust to good luck to befriend him. 
 
 As his foes were so close behind him, he did Hot pause 
 upon the first landing, but ran up the second flight of 
 stairs. 
 
 At the top were several doors. 
 
 Without waiting to make choice of any, Jack pat Lis 
 hand upon the handle of the first he came to. 
 
 It yielded, and he stepped msida a room.
 
 MXKSKIX: A ROMANCE. 
 
 145' 
 
 [blueskin and jack sheppard laying in ambush for the travellers.] 
 
 All was profoundly dark, but a faint, smothered cry 
 from some one reached his ears. 
 
 " Silence, if you value your life," he said, in sup- 
 pressed tones, but yet such as showed how terribly he 
 was in earnest. " Silence, for your life." 
 
 He hastily, but silently, closed the door as he spoke. 
 
 Then he ran his hand down the edge of it, to try and 
 find a fastening of some kind, but he could not. 
 
 "Who is it?" said a voice, from one corner of the 
 room. " Speak again. Who are you ? " 
 
 The voice was evidently feminine. 
 
 " One who stands in danger of his life," replied Jack, 
 crossing the room in the direction of the sound. " Save 
 me from my pursuers. Hark ! do you hear their foot- 
 steps ? In another moment they will be here." 
 
 The clatter which the officers made in ascending the 
 stairs fully testified to the truth of Jack's words. 
 
 " Who are you, then ?" said the voice again. " What 
 do you want with me ? " 
 
 " To save me!" 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Show me some place in this room where 1 may con- 
 ceal myself, and if you are asked whether you have seen 
 me say no." 
 
 " Thei-e is nowhere," said the voice again. " Tell me 
 who you are ; I seem to know your voice. ' 
 
 "Never mind who I am," said Jack; "there is no 
 time to talk about that. Where can I hide ? Quick ! 
 In another moment they will be at the door." 
 
 " I am a poor, lone widow," said the voice, which Jack 
 had found came from a woman, who was sleeping in a 
 wretched bed. " I can do nothing for you, or I would, 
 with all my heart." 
 
 Jack heard the sounds of weeping. 
 
 "Where can I conceal myself?" he asked. "Are you 
 sure you know of no place ? Will you try to save me, or 
 will you see me slain before your eyes, for I am deter- 
 mined not to surrender myself alive." 
 
 No. 19.
 
 ue 
 
 BLTJESKDf : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Alas — alas ! " replied the woman. " I know of no way 
 to serve you, or else I would gladly do so. Ah ! they are 
 here ! " 
 
 The officers of police reached the door at that moment. 
 
 " It is the only chance I have," said Jack. " Are you 
 alone ? " 
 
 " Quite." ) 
 
 " I must get into bed with you, and you must conceal 
 me as well as you can with the clothes. When my foes 
 enter, you must tell them you have not seen me. There is 
 no time to delay or expostulate. Allow me to do as I say, 
 or else you will he my murderess." 
 
 More dead than alive, the poor woman, who could tell 
 Jack was young, and who possessed a gentle heart, suffered 
 him to do as he had said, though, for her own part, she 
 did not think the place would answer his purpose. 
 
 With great speed Jack got beneath the clothes. 
 
 The bedstead was placed against the wall, and it was 
 towards that that he got, screwing himself up into as small 
 a compass as he possibly could. 
 
 He had just time to whisper a last injunction to the 
 woman, who was trembling in every limb, when the door 
 was violently thrown open, and the officers rushed into 
 the room. 
 
 By this time they had all provided themselves with lan- 
 terns, or nearly so, and therefore they were able to see, 
 with tolerable distinctness, all about the wretched chamber. 
 
 The fright which the poor woman displayed, and the 
 tears she shed, were ascribed to the alarm which she 
 would naturally feel upon the sudden irruption of a number 
 of armed men. 
 
 In a stern tone of voice the commanding officer asked 
 her whether she had seen or heard any one enter the 
 room, and to the question she returned, in a trembling 
 voice, a negative reply. 
 
 The whole of the place was rapidly, but rigidly searched. 
 
 Of course, as they did not look where he lay concealed, 
 it was fruitless. 
 
 Poor Jack was almost stifled, but still he did not dare 
 to move to get a little air, for fear of betraying his hiding- 
 place. 
 
 The woman, who must have been a kind-hearted creature, 
 did all she could to conceal him. 
 
 In this she succeeded, for, in a few minutes, the officers 
 withdrew, feeling assured that he was not in that room at 
 least. 
 
 To prevent his entering it, however, and their so having 
 their search for nothing, one of their number was placed 
 as a sentinel on the landing outside the door. 
 
 As soon as he found the last had departed, Jack left his 
 place of concealment, and drew a long breath at the 
 narrow escape he had had. 
 
 He did not dare to whisper even to the woman, for 
 fear that the sound should reach the ears of the man out- 
 side. 
 
 In silence, therefore— and the pair of them listening to 
 all the various sounds which disturbed the house — they 
 sat upon the edge of the bed. 
 
 The tears still flowed from the eyes of the poor widow, 
 for she felt a woman's terror for the dangerous position in 
 which Jack was placed. 
 
 Both thought the search would never end. 
 
 At length, however, the men could be heard descending 
 the staircase, slowly, and as if baffled in their object. 
 
 " Thank heaven," said the woman, as the echo of the 
 last footstep died away, " thank heaven ! you are saved." 
 
 " Say, rather, thank you," replied Jack, " for had you 
 not acted as you did, I should now have been with the 
 dead. I shall be ever grateful to 3 7 ou." 
 
 "Do not mention it. What I did was done willingly 
 enough,_ goodness knows. There was something about 
 your voice which seemed to remind me of my poor eon. 
 But you cannot be him, for he n^.s hung at Tyburn two 
 years ago." 
 
 "At Tyburn?" 
 
 " Yes, but do not think he deserved that Ceath. It was 
 Jonathan Wild who swore to bring him there, and he kept 
 his oath." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ? " repeated Jack, while a most uncom- 
 fortable feeling crept over him, as he thought that Jonathan 
 had sworn he should share a similar fate ; " he is my foe." 
 
 " Does he hunt you ? " asked the widow, eagerly. 
 
 "Even so." 
 
 " Then I pity you. You are young, an<2 it is always 
 
 hard for the young to die ; but you will before you are 
 many weeks older. The enemies of Jonathan Wild never 
 live." 
 
 " I despise him," said Jack, assuming a defiant air 
 which he was far from feeling. " I have too much to live 
 for to die yet. I live, as well, in hopes of defeating him 
 in his most cherished schemes. He is a villain. The 
 blood of mv dearest friend calls upon me for vengeance. 
 Let him beware, for I will have it to the full ! " 
 
 " Lost — lost ! " moaned the poor woman. " As it was 
 with you, so it was even with my son ; but he perished— 
 yes, he perished — and Jonathan Wild triumphed." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Jack, " do not speak so loud, for fear we 
 should be overheard. Listen to me. For what you have 
 done to save me I feel deeply grateful ; in what way can I 
 serve you ? " 
 
 I wish for no reward." 
 
 " But you shall have it," said Jack. " Money must be 
 of service to you. I have none now, but I soon shall 
 have. Let me know your name, in order that when I come 
 again I may inquire for you. 
 
 " I do not wish to be rewarded further for what I have 
 done than I already am." 
 
 " But I insist upon it. What is your name ? " 
 
 " Lawrence," replied the poor widow. 
 
 "' Enough," said Jack. " The room gets lighter every 
 moment. Slip on your clothes and run down stairs, and 
 ascertain whether the officers have left the premises. You 
 can go down without attracting suspicion. Above all, 
 try to see Johnson, and let him know where I am, and he 
 will then devise some means of getting me away." 
 
 In obedience to his words the woman hastily huddled on 
 the few rags which served her for clothing, and then stole 
 down the staircase. 
 
 CHAPTER C. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD'S PERPLEXITIES AT THE " BLACK 
 LION" INCREASE. 
 
 Eagerly, most eagerly, did Jack Sheppard listen until he 
 heard the last faint sounds of the widow's retreating foot- 
 s f eps. 
 
 Then, as he sat upon the bedside, he rested his head in 
 his hands and thought. 
 
 Thought of his friend Blueskin, who, as the reader is 
 aware, he imagined to be dead. 
 
 Thought of the poor persecuted girl, to whom his 
 heart clung so closely, and for whom alone he only cared 
 to live. 
 
 Thought of his own dangerous situation, his inability 
 to aid her, his own crimes and unworthiness. 
 
 Thought, too, last of all, with deep hatred at his heart, 
 of the arch villain, Jonathan Wild, by whose infernal 
 machinations most of this had been brought about. 
 
 And as he took a mental review of the past, and speco. 
 lated upon the future, he grew almost frantic. 
 
 So absorbed was he, that he did not hear the woman 
 aeascend the stairs. It was the opening of the door that 
 aroused him. 
 
 He sprang to his feet, but the woman called to him to 
 be quiet. 
 
 Then, going to the window, she drew aside the apology 
 for a curtain which covered it, and allowed what light 
 there was outside to penetrate the chamber. 
 
 The dawn of the new day had fairly come, and a dull, 
 cold, gray, miatv twilight filled the room. 
 
 But it was sufficient to enable the occupants to separate 
 the different objects in it, and distinguish their own 
 outlines. 
 
 Jack crept close to her. 
 
 As she wa3 standing near the window he was able to 
 note the expression of her features. 
 
 So far as he was able to tell, she seemed to be a woman 
 of about fifty years of age, though it is probable that 
 care and want had made her look prematurely old. 
 
 Her face was very thin, and of that ghastly sallow hue 
 so often seen upon the countenances of the inhabitants Oa 
 the more densely populated portions of the metropolis. 
 
 Her hair was thin and scanty; gray in colour, and 
 now i 1 a most dishevelled state. 
 
 Her clothes, and the manner in which they hung about l 
 her person, as well as, in fact, her whole appearance, be- 
 tokened extreme poverty. '
 
 BLTJESKIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 147 
 
 All these particulars Jack was able to take in at a 
 glance. 
 
 " Have they gone ? " he asked, scarcely raising his voice 
 above a whisper. 
 
 A shake of the head was the reply. 
 
 " And JoLnson ; have you spoken to him ? " 
 
 "I have." 
 
 " And without exciting suspicion ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And what did he say when you told him I was kere ? " 
 
 " Expressed no surprise, but merely said that you must 
 be content to remain for the present where you now are, 
 and then he would see what he could do for you." 
 
 " I must be satisfied with that assurance, I suppose." 
 
 " You must." 
 
 " And what about the officers ? " 
 
 " They are one and all firmly of opinion that you are 
 concealed somewhere in the house." 
 
 " Indeed." 
 
 " Yes, they say it is impossible that you could have left 
 it, and they are determined to find out your hiding- 
 place." 
 
 " Are they below ? '• 
 
 " Some are, I think ; but not all." 
 
 " The remainder, I suppose, are stationed outside ? " 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 " Curses upon them!" said Jack, bitterly; " to be cooped 
 up here is almost worse than captivity or death. Events 
 of the greatest moment call for my immediate attention. 
 If I stay here I shall go mad." 
 
 " Calm yourself," said the widow, gently, " and bear 
 your confinement as patiently as you can. It must 
 surely be better for you to be confined here than in New- 
 gate ! " 
 
 " No — not so ! I should know the worst, thon ; and 
 now I shall be in a continuous dread. What will become 
 of her ? Where is she now ? Without a strong arm to pro- 
 tect her, not many hours will elapse before she falls again 
 into the hands of her enemies. It will kill me to stay 
 here." 
 
 The poor woman looked with great surprise at Jack as 
 he uttered these words. She could not comprehend them. 
 
 " Is there no means by which I can leave this place P " 
 said Jack, after a brief pause. 
 
 " None, without the risk of capture and detection." 
 
 " Show me the way," said Jack, " and I will dare all 
 that may happen. To remain here is utterly impos- 
 sible ! " 
 
 He went to the window as he spoke, and looked out. 
 
 It overlooked a small yard at the rear of the inn, but 
 the buildings round about were either too high up or too low 
 down for them to be at all available to him. 
 
 " You cannot get out that way ! " said the widow, " let 
 me persuade you to wait until Johnson comes. It may 
 not be long before he is here, and doubtless he will be 
 able to suggest a means by which you can be free." 
 
 ™ I will," said Jack, throwing himself upon the bed, 
 " but it will be no easy matter to curb my impatience 
 until he comes. Not that I think I could get far away, 
 for the whole neighbourhood is doubtless well watched. 
 
 " You are the best judge of that, but if Jonathan Wild 
 is your enemy, it is in vain for you to struggle against 
 jour fate." 
 
 " But tnose were not Jonathan's men who came after 
 me," cried Jack ; " I did not think of that before, but I 
 am sure they are not." 
 
 " That I don't know. Hark ! " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Do you not hear ? " 
 
 " No ; what is it ? " 
 
 "A footstep!" 
 
 "On the stairs?" 
 
 "Yes, quick, quick! Hide yourself, or you are lost. 
 Conceal yourself under the clothes as well as you are able, 
 and I will answer for your not being here." 
 
 The sound of some one ascending the stairs now came 
 with very great plainness to Jack's ears. 
 
 As quickly as he oeulu, he hastened to the bed, and 
 hid himself beneath the clothes, which were piled upon it 
 in a disordered heap. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the footstep. 
 
 It was evidently a man's. 
 
 The widow's heart beat even more painfully and 
 
 anxiously than Jack's did as she heard the step approach. 
 
 And yet, had it not been for the peculiar circumstances, 
 she would have thought nothing of it. The house was 
 occupied by several families, and of course there was much 
 going up and down stairs. At any rate, it could scarcely 
 be said that it boded any special danger to Jack. 
 
 When the step, however, paused at her door, and the 
 latch lifted, the widow was ready to swoon. 
 
 _ Jack's very artificial hiding-place would surely not escape 
 discovery. 
 
 But when the door opened a little way, and the form of 
 Johnson, the landlord, appeared, no words could describe 
 the revulsion of feeling which she experienced. 
 
 Gliding in stealthily, he closed the door behind him. 
 
 " Where ia Jack, Mrs. Lawrence ? " he asked, in & 
 whisper. 
 
 " In the bed." 
 
 Hearing the sound of their voices in conversation, Jack 
 ventured to look up. 
 
 Upon seeing who it was, he bounded from the bed. 
 
 "Get me out of this, Johnson," he cried. "To stay 
 here will be worse than death. Show me a means by 
 which I can escape." 
 
 " Gently, gently," rejoined Johnson. " Do not be quite 
 so fast. You will find it a very difficult matter to get 
 away from here." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " The officers are in force, and they are firmly possessed 
 with the idea that you are hidden somewhere in the 
 building, and they are only waiting for the day to come in 
 order to make a thorough search." 
 
 " But they are not Jonathan Wild's men, are they ? " 
 
 "No, not one of them. They all come direct from 
 Newgate. There's none of them know how you managed 
 to escape. How was it ? " 
 
 " I must defer telling you that until I have a better 
 opportunity. At present I must get you to denote all 
 your thoughts to getting me away from here." 
 
 " That, then, you may as well know first as last is 
 impossible." 
 
 " Impossible P " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You would have said that, I expect, if you had been in 
 my place in Newgate." 
 
 " Perhaps I should. But do you happeu to know that 
 the whole of the neighbourhood is closely watched by 
 the police, and that you would never be able to leave 
 unseen." 
 
 "But what am I to do?" 
 
 " I can only propose one thing." 
 
 " And what is that P " 
 
 "To conceal you somewhere in the inn, where it would 
 be next to an impossibility for them to find you." 
 
 " Can you do this f" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " But how long should I have to remain there ?" 
 
 "Until it was safe for you to leave, of course." 
 
 " But, Johnson, look here. You remember Edgworth 
 Bess ? " 
 
 To be sure I do. Would it be possible for any one, 
 who has once known her, to forget her." 
 
 " I think not. But seriously, my friend, when did you 
 see her last ? " 
 
 " You alarm me, Jack. What has happened ? Surely 
 she is in no danger Speak." 
 
 " When did you see her last ?" 
 
 " Why, when you and her and Blueslrin went through 
 the cellars to my other crib in White Hart-street." 
 
 " Then you have not seen her to-night ?" 
 
 " To-night ! no. What made you think I should ? " 
 
 " I will tell you." 
 
 Jack then proceeded to relate all that had happened 
 since the occasion the landlord spoke of; but as the 
 reader is already in possession of the fullest details re- 
 specting those events, it is unnecessary to give the narra- 
 tion in Jack's own words. 
 
 The countenance of Johnson exhibited an expression of 
 the greatest alarm and uneasiness when he learned the 
 disappearance of Edgworth Bess. During the time she 
 had been under his roof, short though it was, the ami- 
 ability and cheerfulness of her disposition had endeared 
 her to him in a greater degree than one would hr>" 
 imagined, considering the character of the man, and that
 
 
 BLUESRTN: A B.OJIAKCE. 
 
 he was one to whom the kindlier and gentler feelings of 
 our nature are strangers. 
 
 "Now, Johnson," said Jack, as he finished, " I appeal 
 to you. What am I to do ? Blueskin, the friend who 
 always saw the hest way out of danger, is, as I have told 
 you, no more. Therefore, I ask you, what am I to 4»P" 
 
 CHAPTER CI. 
 
 JOHNSON, THE LANDLORD, SHOWS JACK SHEFPAKO A 
 CUNNINGLY -CONSTRUCTED HIDING-PLACE IN THE 
 STAIRS. 
 
 Johnson shook bis head. 
 
 " I wish I could tell you what would be your best 
 course of action," be said; "but, if you will believe me, 
 I feel fairly at a loss." 
 
 " I must get away from here." 
 
 " I don't doubt that would be the best, but then you 
 Should consider " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "How do you propose to act, yourself? If you have 
 already determined, it is useless for me to suggest any- 
 thing." 
 
 " Forgive me, Johnson ; I should not have spoken as I 
 did. I have no plan, but only a desire, and that is to get 
 away from here." 
 
 " That is only natural, but yet utter madness. What 
 good would it do for you to throw yourself into the arms of 
 the Philistines ? Rest assured, if you do, they will not let 
 you go again. Then let me ask you, suppose you are put 
 in Newgate, what chance will you have of aiding the poor 
 girl then ? and that she stands in need of your sucoour I 
 feel confident." 
 
 " It is that which maddens me." 
 
 " Hush ! " said Johnson : " calm yourself, or you will 
 be heard by those below. I must begone, too, or my long 
 absence may excite remark, if not suspicion. Be 
 still!" 
 
 Jack sank back upon the bed from which he had 
 risen. 
 
 " Believe me," continued the landlord, " that in the 
 present awkward posture of affairs, the best and only 
 thing you can do is to consent to the course which I at 
 first proposed. It is tbe only one that presents any 
 reasonable prospect of success." 
 
 " And that is, to remain hidden here P " 
 
 " Exactly. You may not have to stay more than an 
 hour or two, who knows ? Perhaps not even so long." 
 
 " And perhaps three days." 
 
 " You must stand your chance of that ; better endure 
 captivity voluntarily than against your will." 
 
 " And to where do yen propose to lead me ? " 
 
 " That I will tell you shortly. Stay where you are a 
 moment, while I go and see whether th6 coast is clear." 
 
 As he uttered these words, Johnson went towards the 
 room door, and, opening it a little way, put his head out 
 and listened. 
 
 The day was now coming fast, and as it was only for 
 this that the officers waited, their renewed search might be 
 looked for every moment. 
 
 All was silent in the direction of the staircase, so John- 
 son beckoned Jack towards him. 
 
 But before tbe latter obeyed the summons, he whis- 
 pered iu the ear of the widow, who had been of such 
 essential service to him, a renewal of the promise he had 
 made to testify how deeply be felt her kiudnesi , 
 
 'This done, he rejoined Johnson. 
 
 " Tread lightly, for your life," he said. 
 
 " Must we descend the stairs ?" 
 
 " Only the first flight." 
 
 " And where is the hiding-place ?" 
 
 " That I will soon show you. Tbe only thing I Knot to 
 impress upon you, is to be perfectly silent in all '-our 
 movements." 
 
 " You can trust me." 
 
 As noiselessly, then, as foot could fall, the pair crept 
 down the staircase. 
 
 The widow stood at the top, looking down at them with 
 fearful interest, but Johnson, as soon as he perceived her, 
 made a rapid and imperative sign for her to retire, which 
 she immediately obeyed. 
 
 To go as quietly as they did, necessitated their going 
 slowly, so that, although the flight of 6tairs was only 
 
 twelve in number, yet it took them a long time to reach 
 the bottom. 
 
 Upon doing so, however, Johnson made a sign to Jack 
 to lemain just where he was while he crept to the head of 
 tbe next flight of stairs, and which went down to the 
 ground floor, in order to listen again, and further make 
 sure that no one was observing. 
 
 This excess of caution made Jack impatient, but the 
 landlord was unquestionably right. 
 
 Finding all secured, he stealthily returned, and touched 
 Jack on the shoulder to arrest the whole of his attention. 
 
 Expecting something to happen of rather an extra- 
 ordinary character, Jack readily complied. 
 
 It so happened, however, that just where they were then 
 standing was the darkest part in all the staircase, so that 
 he bad to strain his eyes somewhat to see what was going 
 forward. 
 
 In the first place, then, he observed Johnson count the 
 fifth stair from the bottom. 
 
 This done, he proceeded to catch hold of the edge of it, 
 much in the manner that one would take hold of a sliding 
 shelf to draw it from its position. 
 
 But he tugged at it in vain, for it did not movo. 
 
 He pulled Jack towards him, and whispered in his ear — 
 " The top of this stair is not fixed, like the rest, but made 
 to slide in and out of a groove. Beneath is a place large 
 enough for you to lie down in, but it is so long since any use 
 was made of it, that the wood has stuck. Help me to pull 
 gently, and then it will come out." 
 
 This was enough to make Jack fully aware of the nature 
 of the proposed hiding-place, and he set about giving 
 effectual assistance. 
 
 Taking hold of the stair with both bands close together 
 near one end, he whispered to Johnson to do the same, and 
 both exerting a uniform amount of strength, they had the 
 satisfaction of seeing the sliding piece of wood yield 
 gradually to it. 
 
 When'it was quite taken out, it revealed a dark-looking 
 place, which could, however, only be perceived by being of 
 a deeper 6hade than the stairs above and below it. 
 
 " Iu with you," whispered Johnson, " you have no time to 
 lose ! " 
 
 But Jack held back a littU for the place looked exceed- 
 ingly forbidding. 
 
 " In with you ! " repeated Johnson, " the place is a great 
 deal more comfortable than it looks ; you will find tbe 
 inside lined throughout with thick felt ; and then, as for 
 discovery, that is out of the question : I dare wager my life 
 they will never find you here ! " 
 
 And, indeed, the landlord's eulogiums were far from 
 being ill placed, for a better hiding-place, and one more 
 likely to elude discovery, could not be imagined. 
 
 Overcoming, then, his repugnance as well as he was able, 
 Jack got into the coffin-like place. 
 
 For his slender anatomy he found there was ample 
 accommodation, and the words of the landlord about its 
 being more comfortable than it looked, were fully borne 
 out. 
 
 As„soon as he was fairly in, the landlord began to replace 
 the sliding top of the stair. 
 
 " How about air for breathing ? " asked Jack, before the 
 aperture was quite closed. 
 
 " Oh ! you'll find that all right," was the reply. " All 
 you have to do is to remain quite still until 1 come to let 
 you out." 
 
 " Or till I am discovered." 
 
 " You have no occasion to frighten yourself about that. 
 They will never find you, without they pull the place all 
 to pieces, and that they are not very likely to do. Now, 
 quick, before I close it, are you all right ? " 
 
 " All right ! " responded Jack. 
 
 Scarcely were the words out of his mouth than Johnson 
 slid the top board of the stair into its accustomed place, 
 and when that was done it did not present to the closest 
 examination the least difference in appearance to the 
 others. 
 
 To make sure that all was just as it should be, however, 
 the landlord trod upon the stair, to find whether it was as 
 firm as the others. 
 
 He was rejoiced to find it equally so. 
 
 Then, feeling that he had already been longer absent 
 from the officers than was exactly prudent, he descended 
 the stairs. 
 
 The greater part of them, he found, were seated in tha
 
 BLCTESiU.fi: A ROMANCE, 
 
 1« I 
 
 kitchen, whiling away the time till daylight by something 
 good to drink. 
 
 They were quite contented in their ininds about their 
 prey, for their measures in stationing men in different 
 places were so well taken that they were conTinced he 
 could not leave without being seen by one or othe>' of 
 them. 
 
 Johnson noticed that, as he came down stairs, they 
 looked keenly and inquisitively at him. 
 
 But whatever suspicion may have had a place in their 
 minds was pretty well dissipated by the words he uttered. 
 
 " I have just been up to my wife, gentlemen, and she 
 has given me leave to let you have just what you lik« to 
 order." 
 
 There was a general laugh at this, for those who fre- 
 quented the " Black Lion " were well aware that in that 
 household, like many others, "the gray mare was the better 
 horse." 
 
 So, as his wife was at the time actually up stairs in bed, 
 the sentence seemed quite a natural one to utter. 
 
 But as soon as the laugh had died away, the officer in 
 command of the rest exclaimed — 
 
 " Come, my lads, no more dallying. We have light 
 enough for our purpose now, and if the young rascal is 
 anywhere in the house, I'll bet you a five-pound note I 
 find him." 
 
 Nothing would have pleased Johnson better than to have 
 called out, " Done ! " only the manifest impolicy of doing 
 60 restrained him. 
 
 The manner in which this officer gave his orders to the 
 men was quite sufficient to show that he had not only 
 attentively considered his position, but was also well used 
 to that sort of thing. 
 
 Every portion of the building was submitted to a most 
 searching investigation. 
 
 Indeed, so systematically was the search pursued, that 
 Johnson began to dread that the cunningly contrived 
 hiding-place would, after all, be discovered. 
 
 But this dread proved unfounded, and, not to unneces- 
 sarily prolong the narrative, after prying into every nook 
 and corner of the building, and then searching the neigh- 
 bouring houses, the officers withdrew, baffled and defeated, 
 perfectly convinced that, despite all their precautions, 
 their prey had managed in some way to elude them. 
 
 When he deemed it safe to do so, Johnson went up- 
 stairs, and released Jack Sheppard from his place of 
 durance. 
 
 He would then have quitted the place, and commenced 
 the pursuit about which he felt so anxious, only he suffered 
 himself to be restrained by the landlord, and he was after- 
 wards glad he did so, for an unexpected event took place, 
 which we shall immediately proceed to describe. 
 
 CHAPTER CII. 
 
 SHOWS THE MANNER IN WHICH BLUESKIN ESCAPED 
 FROM JONATHAN WILD, AND MET JACK SHEPPARD IN 
 DRURY-LANE. 
 
 When Blueskin heard the rattling sound which Wild's 
 key produced when that worthy rather roughly thrust it 
 into the lock of the front door, he felt that to hesitate 
 would be fatal, so he sprang up the remainder of the steps. 
 
 He was in hopes of being able to reach the hall before 
 Jonathan got the door open, which would have given him 
 an immense advantage over his foe ; but in this he was 
 mistaken. 
 
 Wild got the door open first. 
 
 An angry howl came from his lips when he saw the 
 condition of his janitor, and anticipating that something 
 unusual was amiss, he, with great presence of mind, pat a 
 whistle to his lips, and blew a shrill blast upon it. 
 
 This was a general signal to all those members of his 
 band who might be within hearing to hasten to his assist- 
 ance. 
 
 The last notes had not left the instrument, however, 
 before Blueskin reached the passage. 
 
 His drawn sword was in his hand, and its brightly 
 polished blade appeared to collect all the rays of light 
 that were scattered about the place, and reflect them with 
 tenfold brilliancy. 
 
 For a brief space of time, during which, perchance, a 
 person might have counted three rapidly, Jonathan stood 
 astounded and bewildered. 
 
 Bat recovering himself, h9 drew his hanger with his 
 
 right hand and a pistol with his left, and again uttering a 
 yell that might have been heard in any part of the house, 
 he planted his back firmly against the door. 
 
 " Who are you ? " he yelled ; for he did not recognise 
 Blueskin beneath the splendid disguise which he wore. 
 " Who are you ? Speak, or I fire ! " 
 
 But Blueskin took care not to utter a word, for fear that 
 some familiar" tone should strike upon Wild's ear, and 
 raise a suspicion of his identity. 
 
 Rushing forward with his drawn sword before him, he 
 aimed a furious blow at the breast of the thief-taker, who 
 with much ado, succeeded in warding it off, but that was 
 all. 
 
 Finding himself thus resolutely attacked, he lost a por- 
 tion of his usual courage. 
 
 Blueskin was not slow to take advantage of it. 
 
 An accomplished master of the art of fencing, and, 
 moreover, having the advantage over Wild in height and 
 length of reach, he stood every chance of being the victor 
 — that is, provided he did not give the janizaries time to 
 arrive. 
 
 Animated by this feeling, he attacked Jonathan with 
 great impetuosity, and wounded him severelv in two places 
 in the breast. 
 
 But Wild would not give up. Suddenly raisiu-; the 
 pistol to a level, he took a good aim with it at his oppo- 
 nent, and he would have assuredly succeeded in hittiDg him 
 had not Blueskin's eye been quick enough to perceive and 
 wrist quick enough to change the direction of the barrel. 
 
 The pistol was discharged, but its contents expended 
 themselves harmlessly against the woodwork of the stair- 
 case. 
 
 The hurried trampling of many feet, and the confusion 
 of many voices speaking excitedly together, reached Blake's 
 ears, and warned him to be speedy in his movements, if he 
 wished to escape with his life. 
 
 Collecting all his energies, he gave Wild a sudden and 
 violent thrust. 
 
 The thief-taker tried to avoid the blow, but in vain. 
 The sword passed through the upper oart of his chest, 
 near the shoulder, pinning him to the door. 
 
 Steggs, who had hitherto kept close behind Blueskin, 
 now came forward, and, when he saw his enemy thus 
 worsted, struck him a heavy blow with his fist, which at 
 once rendered him insensible, and, upon Blake with- 
 drawing his weapon, he fell heavily upon the floor of the 
 hall. 
 
 Some half-dozen men now rushed down the staircase, 
 but they knew not for a moment how to act. 
 
 Blake seized upon that moment to undo the fastenings 
 of the door and fling it open. 
 
 Then he dashed out into the street, closely followed by 
 the two men he had delivered from the dungeous. 
 
 He ran but a few paces, and then he stopped. 
 
 He rejoiced that he had set the two prisoners free as he 
 had, because now, they would be the means of diverting 
 pursuit, if any was attempted against him. 
 
 " Separate ! " he cried, " choose, each of you, your own 
 road, and if you run fast enough you will effect your 
 escape. This is my way." 
 
 He ran down Skinner-street, as he spoke, but before he 
 reached Snow-hill, he turned down one of the narrow 
 turnings on his left, which, by a circuitous route would 
 take him into Fleet-market. 
 
 The place was dark, but all its intricacies were so 
 familiar to him that he could have almost found his way 
 blindfold. 
 
 Crossing Fleet-market, he wound his course through 
 the numerous courts which lie between Holbora-hill and 
 Fleet-street. 
 
 The result of his search in Wild's house filled him with 
 mingled feelings of hopes and fears. 
 
 Jack's indomitable resolution to overcome all possible 
 obstacles was well-known to him, and he thought it by no 
 means improbable that he had found some means of 
 escaping from Wild's clutches, and taking his companion 
 with him. 
 
 But if this was the case he made sure he should learn 
 some intelligence of them at the " Black Lion," so ho 
 resolved to repair thither without delay. 
 
 Little prepared was he for the startling intelligence 
 which awaited him there. 
 
 By the time he reached the well-knowc spot it was 
 broad daylight.
 
 150 
 
 BLOESRIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 On entering, he found the place in the utmost disorder. 
 
 He was not long in learning the cause of it. 
 
 We can imagine with what anxiety he awaited the 
 result. 
 
 Although so much in the habit of frequenting the 
 tavern, no one recognised him in his present cotttnme. 
 
 Beating himself in the tap-room, he called for Irinfc. 
 
 The sea£ he chose was one where he was iroat likely to 
 be free from observation. 
 
 He could not help feeling amused at the manner ia 
 which Johnsou treated him. It was plain to be seen he 
 L:nl no suspicion of Ids identity. 
 
 The length of time the officers took with their search, 
 inspired Blueskin with the hope that they would be unsuc- 
 cessful in finding Jack, and the result proved that he was 
 quite right. 
 
 When the last of the police had withdrawn, Blueskin 
 called Johnson, and told him who he wns. 
 
 The landlord's delight, upon being made the recipient 
 of this intelligence, knew no bounds. 
 
 Blake cautioned him, however, not to let it be known, 
 as so much depended upou his existen e being for the 
 present kept a secret. 
 
 Johnsou then confided to him the place in which he had 
 hidden Jack. 
 
 By his advice he waited for some time yet, in order to 
 make sure that none of the police-officers were lurking 
 about. 
 
 Then, as we related at the end of the preceding chapter, 
 Johnsou had gone up stairs, and released Jack from his 
 place of confinement. 
 
 He felt it to be no inconsiderable relief to be able to 
 move his limbs freely. 
 
 He was shown by Johnson into a room on the first floor, 
 the door leading to which was clcse to the foot of the 
 stairs, 60 that if occasion should require it, he would be 
 able to return to his place of concealment without loss of 
 tim i. 
 
 These preliminaries having been arranged, he broke 
 the intelligence to him that Blueskin had not, as he 
 thought, been slain, but that he had most miraculously 
 recovered from the terrible wound Wild had given him. 
 
 Next to seeing Edgworth Bess in a situation of perfect 
 security, nothing would have given Jack so much real de- 
 light as to learn that his friend was spared to him. 
 
 But Johnson, bidding him to compose himself, said he 
 would go down and send Blake up to him. 
 
 In less than five minutes after the landlord had left him 
 he heard some one ascending the stairs. 
 
 He could not control his impatience, but going to the 
 door, opened it and looked out. 
 
 He drew back again suddeuly and disappointedly, for 
 Johusou had not told him Blueskin was disguised, and, 
 like the rest, he failed to recoguise him in his present 
 attire. 
 
 Blueskin walked straight up to the door of the room, 
 and spoke. 
 
 Jack knew the tones of his voice again instantly, 
 
 Taking him by the hand, he dragged him into the 
 chamber, and sitting down near him, began to talk. 
 
 But to relate the mutual explanations which took place 
 between the pair would be as unnecessary as it would be 
 uninteresting. The reader already knows all, and there- 
 fore he will be at no loss to imagine what passed between 
 them, thus enabling us to proceed with our narrative 
 without hindrance. 
 
 When Jack had finished the recital of his own extra- 
 ordinary adventures, and narrated how he had succeeded 
 in setting Edgworth Bess at liberty, but that since then 
 she had disappeared, leaving no clue by which he could 
 find her, Blueskin's face assumed a grave expression, for 
 he anticipated the worst. 
 
 For a long time he was quite silent. He was ea« 
 deavouring to account for her disappearance. 
 
 But in all his speculations he was a long long way off 
 the truth. 
 
 The anxiety and interest which Jack felt were plainly 
 depicted in his countenance. 
 
 "What will be the best way to act, Blueskin?" he 
 asked ; " I know I can leave it 6afely in your hande to 
 decide. What shall I do ? " 
 
 " That is a difficult matter, Jack, unless I say in two 
 words, find her. They just express what I intend to do 
 myself." 
 
 " But how ? In what way shall you set about it ? " 
 
 " That is the question. Have you any money ? " 
 
 "None." 
 
 " I thought not — nor have I, worth mentioning. But 
 
 if we are to do any good some must be had, and that at 
 
 once." 
 " I dou't dispute it ; I want some even now." 
 " We cannot do without it. Now, Jack, you are a brave 
 
 and likely young fellow ! What do you say to going out 
 
 to-night with a good horse and a brace of pistols to cry 
 
 ' St and and deliver ! ' upon the highway ? " 
 
 CHAPTER CIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN'S SEARCH AFTER EDGWOTH BBSS IS K VAIN 
 ONE, AND HE PERSUADES JACK TO ACCOMPANY II IM 
 UPON A LITTLE EXPEDITION. 
 
 " At any other time," said Jack Sheppard, " I should 
 have jumped at such a proposal, for there is nothing that 
 would suit me better ; but as it is, I feel the whole of my 
 energies should be turned in one direction ! " 
 
 " And so they can be all the same for that. Listen to 
 me ! " 
 
 " I am doing so. 
 
 " You perceive what a difference changing my dress has 
 made in me. Even you did not recognise me — no more 
 did Johnson ! Do as I did. Remain where you are, and 
 send some one out to purchase you some things of a simi- 
 lar character, and we might walk past Wild himself with- 
 out his knowing us ! " 
 
 " But the money ? " 
 
 " I have, I think, enough for that. Say — do you con- 
 sent ? " 
 
 " Willingly — if I thought I could get oat of this place." 
 
 " It will be most imprudent for you to attempt to do so 
 before nightfall. By that time the vigilance of those 
 officers who may be watching in the neighbourhood will 
 have relaxed." 
 
 " It will kill me to stay here inactively all day ! " said 
 Jack, pacing up and down the room. 
 
 " You must be as patient as you can. Precipitation 
 will ruin all. Surely you can see that ! " 
 
 " I will be guided by you, my friend ; your head is 
 clearer thau mine ; and you will know what is the most 
 prudent course of action. ' 
 
 " Do so, then. Remain quiet and patient where you 
 are — will you ? " 
 
 " I will try." 
 
 " If you cannot leave the house, that is no reason why 
 I shouldn't. In this disguise I am certain they will 
 never know me. I have the welfare of the young girl 
 quite as much at heart as you have, and I will go forth 
 alone, and try to find her. What say you ? " 
 
 " Cau I say anything but ' yes ? ' " 
 
 " I will do my best to be successful ; but whether 1 am 
 or not I will return at dusk, and we will be off upon our 
 excursion, for money must be had ! " 
 
 " You say you have enough to purchase a disguise ? " 
 
 " I have. I will call myself upon a man who can be 
 trusted, and send him here to you. He will also take 
 away the clothes you have been wearing. Above all, be 
 careful of your liberty, and take my advice, do not move 
 from here until I returu." 
 
 Blueskin then withdrew. 
 
 A few words passed between him and Johnson, and 
 then he sallied forth into Drury-lane. 
 
 By this time the ordinary business of the day had fairly 
 commenced, and the thoroughfare was crowded with 
 people. 
 
 He threaded his way thi-ough the busy crowd without 
 attracting much attention. 
 
 His first visit was to a clothier's in Holywell-street, to 
 whom he gave a description of what he required, and paid 
 him in advance for the clothes. 
 
 As the sum he got was about three times as much as he 
 ever expected, the shop-keeper was civil to obsequiousness, 
 and promised that it should be seen to without delay. 
 
 This over, Blueskin commenced his search after Edg- 
 worth Bess. 
 
 He felt more alarmed and frightened at her disappear- 
 ance than he would have liked to confess to himself. 
 
 Pull of deep, anxious thought, he wa^ed down Holy- 
 well-street, and emerged into the Strand.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Confident of the excellence of his disguise, he walked 
 [ with an air of the greatest unconcern. 
 
 Like JackSkeppard, the more he thought over what the 
 young girl would be likely to do, circumstanced as she was, 
 the more certain he felt tbat her first step would be to 
 make her way to the " Black Lion" in Drury-lane. 
 
 Doubtless "she had done this, and supposing so, then she 
 must have met with some interruption on her journey. 
 
 But beyond that supposition he could not go. Wbat 
 sort of peril she would be likely to meet with he knew not. 
 It might come in a thousand different shapes. 
 
 All clue, too, was lost. There was not tbe faintest 
 indication to guide him as to the direction she had taken 
 when she left the archway of the market. 
 
 Little did he think as he went down the Strand and 
 Fleet-street, that he was walking upon the very ground 
 over which she had been hunted by the Mohawks. 
 
 Tbe brief autumnal day passed away, and found him 
 no nearer the achievement of his purpose than he was when 
 he set out. 
 
 Vexed, dispirited, and his keai-t heavy with dread, he, 
 according to the arrangement he had made, retraced his 
 steps to the old inn in Drury-lane, where be knew Jack 
 would be waiting with such nervous impatience to know 
 tbe result of his search. 
 
 To hope to find any one by your own individual exertions 
 when they have been lost in London, is a task so hopeless 
 as to make it not worth while to use an effort, as it could 
 only result in bitter disappointment. 
 
 So soon as Jack heard his comrade ascending the stairs, 
 he could tell by his heavy and listless tread that he had 
 been unsuccessful. 
 
 The discovery, although he had schooled himself to bear 
 it, almost drove him frantic. 
 
 " You have not found her ? " he said. 
 
 " I have not," replied his friend, " but do not despair of 
 doing so. Come, are you ready ? " 
 
 " Quite," said Jack. " Anything to get clear of this 
 place, which grows more hateful to me every moment." 
 
 " You have put on your disguise ? " 
 
 " Yes, and as soon as we leave this dark chamber you 
 will see how great a difference it has made to me." 
 
 " So much the better. Let me go down first, and if in 
 a minute or two I do not return, follow me ; you will 
 understand by tbat the coast is clear." 
 
 So saying, Blueskin left Jack, and descended to the 
 ground floor. 
 
 There was no one in the kitchen, but in tbe front room 
 a goodly number were assembled ; that is, if the noise 
 they made could be taken as a guide. 
 
 When Jack descended, and Blueskin saw him by the 
 bright light there was in the room, prepared as he was for 
 an alteration, he could scarcely credit his eyes. 
 
 For some time lately, what with one thing and another, 
 Jack had had no time to pay any particular attention to 
 bis toilette, and the apparel he wore was in a veryneglected 
 condition. In fact, he bad began to look very much like 
 a scarecrow. 
 
 Now, however, he had taken the utmost pains with him- 
 self. 
 
 His face and hands were scrupulously clean, and nu 
 short crop of hair brushed closely to his head. 
 
 Slimly and genteely built as Jack was, when properly 
 dressed he had every appearance of a gentleman, unless 
 the lineaments of bis countenance were closely scanned. 
 
 Then an expression of low cunning was perceivable, 
 which marred the effect of all. 
 
 Very little time, however, was spent by Blueskin in 
 making remarks upon his looks. The first surprise over, 
 he at once made his way to the front door. 
 
 Johnson was standing on tbe doorstep. 
 
 He had taken up that position in order to ascetf iin 
 whether there were any officers lurking about the ne gb- 
 bourhood. 
 
 But all appeared to present much the same aspect at 
 usual, and this he communicated to the two friends. 
 
 " We will be off at once, then," said Blueskin. " My 
 first place will be the livery stables in Long-acre, where I 
 shall hire a couple of nags, and you may expect us back 
 when you see us, for there is no knowing how events may 
 turn out." 
 
 " All right. I trust yon will succeed in finding Bess, 
 | bless her heart. If she should come here, I shall take 
 I good care of her, you may depend." 
 
 " Do so — do so. I need not tell you that you may rely 
 upon our gratitude." 
 
 " I know that well enough. Take care, and I hope you 
 will soon succeed." 
 
 With these words in their ears Blueskin and Jack took 
 their way in rather a circuitous fashion through the courts 
 to the livery stable at the corner of Charles-street, Long- 
 acre, already well known to the reader. 
 
 Here they were provided with a couple of steeds of ex- 
 cellent quality. 
 
 They were equipped with an especial view to the service 
 they were to go upon. 
 
 Holsters were affixed to each of the saddles, and in them 
 were two brace of carefully-loaded double-barrelled pistols. 
 
 Ammunition, too, was handed to each of them by the 
 man in attendance, as well as a brace of smaller pistols, 
 suitable to the pocket. 
 
 Thus provided, they were m a position to cry, " Stand 
 and deliver" successfully to any travellers they might 
 encounter upon the highway. 
 
 Blueskin led the way, and trotted at a gentle pace 
 through the city in the direction of Blackfriars-bridge. 
 
 Their appearance was unexceptionable to a degree, and 
 such as would have at once commanded respect from the 
 beholder. 
 
 Most certainly no suspicion that they were " knights of 
 the road," and setting out upon a night excursion, would 
 be engendered. 
 
 " We will make our way over Blackfriars-bridge, Jack," 
 said Blueskin, " and straight on to the Kent-road. It is 
 one that is much travelled by people who are worth crying 
 stand to. What do you say ? " 
 
 " I leave the expedition in your hands," replied Jack. 
 " Be you the leader, I will follow you." 
 
 " I don't so much care about that," replied Blueskin. 
 " I would rather have some one with me in an affair of 
 this sort, that I could consult with than a mere machiue 
 to obey orders." 
 
 " You are old enough to assume the command." 
 
 " That may be, Jack, but I don't wish to do it. You 
 may not know it, but the clay is not far distant when you 
 will grow famous, and make for yourself such a name and 
 reputation as no one ever yet had and ever will have again, 
 and it is you that will be the captain." 
 
 Jack smiled. 
 
 One of bis greatest weaknesses was his vanity and love 
 of flattery, and, such being the case, it is easy to imagine 
 the effect Blueskin's words had upon him, though that he 
 was perfectly sincere when he uttered them there can be 
 no doubt. 
 
 "And now, Jack," he added, "nothing but a pressing 
 need of money would have brought me out to-night, and 
 diverted me from the pursuit of Edgwortk Bess. There- 
 fore, we will be content to return as soon as we make any- 
 thing like a booty." 
 
 " That, of course, meets with my approval," said Jack, 
 " for it is the subject of all others which is uppermost in 
 my mind." 
 
 " Do not despair. We have every room to hope, and 
 perhaps chance may suddenly and unexpectedly place the 
 clue in our bands." 
 
 " I trust so," said Jack, as they pulled up at the toll- 
 gate while the man opened it. " Tbe sooner the better ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN MEET WITH A VERY 
 SINGULAR ADVENTURE ON THE KENT-ROAD. 
 
 A shakI' canter of about ten minutes duration sufficed to 
 carry them quite out into the open country. 
 
 The place they reached, however, is now as much like a 
 town as any other part of London is, but the buildings 
 are comparatively recent, and there must be many now 
 alive who can distinctly recollect their erection. 
 
 A beautful silence was about the spot. 
 
 The rustling of the tree-tops, and the cries of those 
 birds whose habits are nocturnal, sounded like pleasing 
 music in Jack's ears. 
 
 The trees on either side of the roadway grew up so high, 
 and were planted so thickly together, that they cast a 
 shadow so black as to make it look like some wild 
 cavernous recess. 
 
 It was here that Blueskin drew up.
 
 MO«e££3Wtaas' 
 
 BLTJE9KTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " There is no place for miles so favourable for our pur- 
 pose as this is. Se we will stay here. Halt ! " 
 
 Jack stopped. 
 
 " Keep your horse as quiet as you can. We shall be 
 sure not to have to wait long before we hear some one 
 coming." 
 
 The friends now backed their horses as far as they 
 could into the shade and waited. 
 
 Advantage was taken of this opportunity to look to 
 the priming of their pistols, for then, when the percus- 
 sion cap was unknown, they required constant attention. 
 
 On this occasion, Jack perceived that the jolting in 
 riding had shaken the powder out of the pans of the 
 brace he caiiied in his coat-pocket, so that had he relied 
 upon them iu any emergency they would have failed 
 him. 
 
 This, however, he soon remedied, and then he waited 
 with considerable impatience to hear some one approach. 
 
 For a long time their patience was unrewarded. 
 
 No one came. 
 
 At last, Jack grew quite tired, and would have moved, 
 but, just at that moment, Blueskin held up his hand in an 
 attitude for silence. 
 
 " What is it ? " asked Jack, in a whispei\ 
 
 " Silence for a moment, while I listen. I heard very 
 faintly the beat of horses' hoofs." 
 
 Jack strained his sense of hearing to the utmost, and 
 then found he was just able to catch a sound, which cer- 
 tainly seemed to be what his comrade said it was. 
 
 " It is at an immense distance, and your ears must 
 have been uncommonly acute for them to have distin- 
 guished it so soon." 
 
 " Sharp sense of hearing," replied Blueskin, " is an 
 essential requisite for every true knight of the road, and 
 it is a faculty you should cultivate to the utmost. Hark, 
 again." 
 
 Jack did so, and this time the clattering of iron-bound 
 hoofs upon the hard road reached him more unequi- 
 vocally. 
 
 " There are two of them," continued Blueskin, " and 
 they are coming at a slashing pace. Draw more on one 
 side and listen. Be on the look out when they approach, 
 and as soon as I give the signal pounce out upon them, 
 and, in as loud and stem a voice as you can assume, com- 
 mand them to deliver their money or their lives. Now, 
 silence till they come." 
 
 Both drew now as close to the hedgerow as they possibly 
 could, and it would have needed a very sharp eye to have 
 distinguished them from the different objects by which 
 they were surrounded. 
 
 But now a circumstance occurred which tended to 
 change the current of Blake's intentions. 
 
 As the beating of tbe horses' feet became more percep- 
 tible, he beard mingled with it those of other horses, as 
 well as the grinding of wheels. 
 
 This seemed to point out tbat those whose approach he 
 had first heard were merely outriders. 
 
 Tf this was so, his prey would be in the interior of the 
 carriage. 
 
 A few minutes though, he felt, would set all at rest, and 
 he would be prepared to act either way. 
 
 He deemed it no more than prudent, though, to let 
 Jack know by a hasty whisper what he suspected. 
 
 At that time it was by no means an unusual thing for 
 people to travel with an escort, for the roads were most 
 unsafe. 
 
 Only those, however, who occupied high positions iu 
 the social scale, or who carried about with them valuable 
 articles were thus attended, for it very materially in- 
 creased the expenses of the journey. 
 
 The risk of stopping such travellers would, of course, 
 be very great, but then the booty to be acquired would 
 make il worth their while. 
 
 It was from the direction of London that the sounds 
 came. 
 
 The outriders, for such they were, reached the dark bit 
 (f.f road where our friends lay in ambush . 
 
 They were talking together iu a loud voice, but they 
 swept by too quickly for them to catch the purport of 
 their words. 
 
 Blueskin made not the least attempt to molest them. 
 
 He would have gained nothing by it. 
 
 They were doubtless galloping on to reach the nexi 
 
 town where relays could be had, for there was every indi- 
 cation that it was an express journey. 
 
 Just as they passed, the lamps of the carriage came in 
 sight. 
 
 At first they looked like two twin tiny stars in the in> 
 tense darkness. 
 
 As they grew nearer, their size and brilliancy rapidly 
 increased until the trees by the roadside could be dis- 
 tinguished. 
 
 " Now, Jack," whispered Blueskin, " prepare yourself 
 for a desperate resistance." 
 
 " Do you expect it ? " 
 
 " It is best to be prepared iu case." 
 
 Jack gathered the reins firmly in his left -hand, and 
 grasped one of the holster pistols in his right, setting his 
 toeth hard at the same time. 
 
 It was the first adventure on the highway that he had 
 ever had, and he naturally felt a little nervous and 
 excited. 
 
 Blueskin, however, was cool and prepared. He wa^ an 
 old hand at the business. 
 
 He was able to perceive, though Jack was not, that the 
 approaching vehicle was a post-chaise, drawn by four 
 horses, and having two postilions. 
 
 The speed they wei'e coming at was something frightful. 
 Indeed, he half thought the horses had taken fright and 
 run away. 
 
 And, indeed, the only thing which seemed to convince 
 him that such was not the case was, that above all other 
 sounds, he could hear the loud cracking of the postilions' 
 whips, as they strove to urge the cattle to make still 
 greater speed. 
 
 What to think of this headlong haste he knew not, but 
 it must have been somethiug of no ordinary import to 
 make them run the gauntlet, as they did, of the perils of 
 the road. 
 
 But why they travelled post was a thing that Blueskin 
 did not choose to trouble his head about. He resolved to 
 stop them, be the consequences what they might. All he 
 hoped was that he would obtain booty sufficient to repay 
 him for his trouble. 
 
 When the two leading horses in tbe post-chaise were on 
 a level with him, Blueskin gave the word to Jack, and 
 then giving his own steed a sudden impulse forward, 
 caught hold of the rear one by the bridle. 
 
 At the same moment he cried out to halt, and fired his 
 pistol so close to the postilion's head, that he rolled off his 
 hoi - se into the road, firmly persuaded tbat he was hit. 
 
 But not heeding his cries, Blueskin tightened the hold 
 he had upon the bridle, and forced the horses round until 
 the post-chaise was turned quite across the road, and in 
 such a position that further progress was impossible. 
 
 The horses kicked and plunged violently, but Blake 
 called out to Jack to cut the traces, which he immediately 
 did by the aid of the sword which be wore, and the 
 liberated horses dashed off along the road as though 
 possessed by demons. 
 
 So quickly, too, was all this performed, that the inmates 
 of the chaise had not time to recover from their surprise. 
 
 But just as Blueskin reached the door, the window was 
 let down with a sudden crash, aud a man asked, with an 
 oath, what was the matter. 
 
 " Guard the door there, Jack ! " cried Blueskin, in such 
 loud tones as to immediately arrest attention. " You, my 
 men, be on the watch, and be prepared to Ore the moment 
 I give the word." 
 
 " Murder ! " said the voice at the carriage window, as 
 he drew in his head. " Murder ! " 
 
 " You may rely upon it it will be without you corupiy 
 with my demands, and that at once. Your money, watches, 
 rings, and whatever other valuables you may have with 
 you. You will find it best not to delay." 
 
 He rode quite close to the window of the post-chaise as 
 he spoke, and, resting the barrel of his pistol upon the 
 ledge of it, bent his head and took as good a look as he 
 could at the interior. 
 
 But even as he did so, his ears caught the sound of 
 the approach of some other vehicle from tho direction of 
 London. 
 
 This warned him to De speedy. 
 
 The inmates of the chaise wei-e an elderly man and a 
 female, who, as far as could be judged by her general 
 appearance and contour, was by no means so old.
 
 [blueskin and jack sheppard are spectators of a strange duel.] 
 
 Indeed, at first sight, she looked little more than a 
 mere girl, but that was owing to her peculiar style of 
 beauty, which, in its character, was child-like iu the 
 extreme. 
 
 She was, however, in a state of the greatest possible 
 terror and agitation, and the alarm depicted upon her 
 countenance was certainly too great for Blueskin's attack 
 to be the sole cause of it. 
 
 " Help — help ! Mercy ! " she cried. " Oh ! Charles ! 
 Charles ! what shall we do ? " 
 
 These ejaculations filled Blueskin with still greater 
 astonishment, but before he could repeat his demand, the 
 girl continued with greater vehemence and fright — 
 
 " Hark — hark ! Charles, she comes ! Cannot you hear 
 the wheels ? Oh ! we are lost — lost ! " @ 
 
 " Yes, curse her ! " growled the elderly man, who had 
 been addressed by the name of Charles; and then he 
 added a few more imprecatory sentences, which we think 
 unnecessary to repeat. 
 
 Blueskin interrupted him. 
 
 He, too, could hear rather more plainly than he wished 
 the sounds of some four-wheeled vehicle coming along the 
 road from London at a furious pace. 
 
 " Quick ! " he said. " I am not in the habit of asking 
 twice for what I want. You have dallied long enough. 
 Quick ! I say. Hand over your valuables, or the conse- 
 quences " ■ 
 
 " Cannot be worse or more terrible than they already 
 are," interrupted the young girl. " Wretched man, you 
 have ruined us ! " 
 
 V Ruined you ? How ? " exclaimed Blueskin, who found 
 himself every moment more unable to understand what 
 was taking place. 
 
 " Silence, Susanna ! " said the elderly man, and who, iii 
 future, we shall, to save trouble, do as the girl did, and 
 call Charles." Things now have come to a crisis. Through 
 this unfortunate accident, a meeting will be impossible to 
 be avoided, and we must face the matter out as well as wo 
 are able." 
 
 No. 20.
 
 IH 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER CV 
 
 THE 3f\STERY OF THE POST-CHAISE BEGINS TO UNFOLD 
 ITSELF. 
 
 There was one person present who listened to what was 
 going forward with even more curiosity, interest, and 
 bewilderment than even Blueskin did. 
 That person was Jack Sheppard. 
 
 It will be recollected that, in obedience to his comrade's 
 injunctions, he had taken up his position at the other 
 window of the post-cbaise, so as to be at hand to prevent 
 either of its occupants leaving it. 
 
 Of course, where he was, he could hear every word that 
 was spoken with tbe greatest plainness. 
 
 But what he bad heard so far only served to make him 
 feel the keenest desire to know something more of the 
 affair that at present seemed so mysterious and incompre- 
 hensible. 
 
 That he would have this desire gratified, appeared 
 highly probable. 
 
 From what the girl Susanna had said, he gathered they 
 were pursued, and that it was a female who was pursuing 
 them. 
 
 And that this female, whom they appeared so much to 
 dread, was the occupant of the carriage that was coming 
 along at such a rate there was every reason to suppose. 
 
 If so, it would reach tbe spot upon wbich they stood in 
 the course of a few minutes. 
 
 Then, surely, he would know more. 
 With his eyes turned in the direction of London, he 
 watched its coming. 
 
 In the darkness and distance its outlines were dimly dis- 
 tinguishable. 
 
 As he gazed with straining eyes upon it, something 
 seemed to tell him that he was about to witness a strange 
 episode in the great drama of human life. 
 
 Leaving him, however, with his attention more directed 
 to the road before him than the chaise window, where it 
 ought to be, we will return to Blueskin, who had deter- 
 mined, at all hazards, to take his booty before the other 
 vehicle arrived. 
 
 Accordingly he assumed a threatening manner, and, 
 clicking the lock of his pistol, he said — 
 
 " Do not drive me to extremities ! I have had patience 
 with you so far, but I bid you beware of delaying too long. 
 Do you value your life ? " 
 "'My life?" 
 
 " Yes, your life. Do not repeat my words." 
 " I do not value it," said Charles, " for it is as good as 
 lost already. Kill me ! " 
 
 " No — no ! " shrieked Susanna, and, springing forward, 
 she twined her arms around his neck, interposing her body 
 between them. " Spare him, and I will give you all we 
 have. Wretched man ! you little think the amount of 
 mischief you have caused by interrupting our flight ! " 
 
 " Then you are fugitives," said Blueskin. " From jus- 
 tice, perhaps, and so I have done a good turn, I suppose, 
 to those who will not thank me for it. Never mind. Once 
 more, I say, give me all you have of any value, or I will 
 take it by force ; and I warn you beforehand, if you drive 
 me to such a course, I shall not be over gentle when I set 
 about it ! " 
 
 Upon hearing these words, spoken as they were in a 
 tone of the greatest determination, Charles, at the en- 
 treaties of Susanna, took from his fob a large gold wateh, 
 richly chased and jewelled, from which depended a long 
 chain and a bunch of massive gold seals. 
 
 But Blueskin was not satisfied with this. It was cash 
 he wanted, and cash he determined to have. 
 
 " This is not enough," he said. " Quick, your purses, 
 rings, and other jewellery ! Make haste, for your lives ! " 
 Trembling all over with intense terror, with hot tears 
 streaming down her cheeks, Susanna, one after another, 
 produced the various articles which had been named, and 
 handed them out of the chaise window. 
 
 Hastily placing them in his pocket, Blueskin would 
 have made off, but at that moment, with a sudden dash, 
 the pursuing vehicle arrived upon the scene of aetioa. 
 
 Still more audible and horrible became the curses which 
 issued from Charles's lips. 
 
 Still more piercing became the shrieks of his com- 
 panion. 
 Then, before the pestiHons had fairly brought their 
 
 foaming horses to a standstill, the door of the carriage 
 which had just arrived was thrown open. 
 A female form came forth. 
 
 Blueskin drew aside, but did not attempt to fly. He 
 felt a sudden and uncontrollable desire to know more of 
 the inmates of the two vehicles. 
 He looked on attentively. 
 
 In a moment or so he was rejoined by Jack, who 
 said — 
 
 " What's the meaning of all this, Blue ? " 
 " I cannot imagine." 
 "Nor I." 
 
 " It is very strange." 
 " Very. What shall we do ? " 
 " Remain where we are a little while." 
 " With all my heart ! but will it be safe ? " 
 " Quite ! There is nothing to fear. We are more than 
 a match for any now present, and we can easily give our 
 horses the spur if we hear sounds indicative of the arrival 
 of any one." 
 " All right ! " 
 
 This little dialogue was carried on with the greatest 
 rapidity, but, having come to this understanding, both set 
 themselves to the task of watching what course events 
 would now take. 
 
 The female who had alighted in so hurried a manner 
 was tall, and a large travelling cloak which she wore 
 could not conceal her really fine proportions. 
 
 With the speed of passion she ran along the roadway to 
 the door of the post-chaise. 
 
 A loud scream burst from Susanna's lips as she wit- 
 nessed her approach, and, cowering down in the farthest 
 corner of tbe vehicle, strove to bide herself from view. 
 
 " Wretch ! " cried the woman, fiercely, and in a manner 
 which sounded as though she had spoken through her 
 clenched teeth. " You thought to escape me, but, behold, 
 a fortunate chance has placed you in my hands ! " 
 
 As she spoke, she unclasped her cloak about her neck, 
 and allowed it to fall upon the ground behind her, in a 
 heap. 
 
 " Let me get at her ! " she cried furiously. " She shall 
 live to repent this day, and you, too, villain, unworthy of 
 the form you wear ! " 
 
 It was Charles who was thus addressed, and his terror 
 seemed scarcely less than that of the young girl beside 
 him. 
 
 There was light enough for Blueskin and Jack to see 
 that the apparel which this strange woman wore was of 
 the best material, and doubtless it was under the domina- 
 tion of blind rage that she spoke and acted in the manner 
 she did. 
 
 Springing up on to the step, she had the door of the 
 chaise open in an instant. 
 
 " Come forth ! " she shrieked. " Come forth, or I will 
 make you ! I will drag you forth ! Do you hear me ? 
 Come forth, I say ! " 
 " Now, Julia," said Charles. " Do not be violent, I " — 
 The extraordinary female) named Julia did not allow 
 the unlucky Charles to finish his sentence, for with the 
 sudden fury of a wild animal, she jumped into the chaise, 
 and, catching hold of him by the hair of his head, drew 
 him out into the road. 
 
 So rapidly and dexterously was the feat performed that 
 neither Jack nor Blueskin would have had time to inter- 
 fere, had they possessed the greatest inclination to do so, 
 which, if the truth was told, they certainly had not. They 
 had already learned the wisdom of remaining neuter in 
 other people's quarrels. 
 
 Charles sat on the ground in a very rueful manner 
 indeed. 
 
 He did not venture to move, but he turned his head in 
 the direction of our friends, and implored their aid in the 
 most abject terms. 
 
 The scene was ludicrous enough, in all conscience, and 
 yet it was all the more horrible on that account. 
 
 The woman Julia looked in a moment to see who it was 
 from whom he asked succour. 
 
 She saw dimly the figures of two men on horseback. 
 " Help ! " she said. " If you are gentlemen, if you 
 have a consciousness of what is right and wrong, if you 
 are willing to assist a woman to avenge herself for the 
 injuries which she has received, I implore you to aid me. 5 '' 
 " What do you wish us to do ? " asked Blueskin, wfra, 
 strangely enough, felt more sympathy for this woman,
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 165 
 
 violent as she was, than he did for either Susanna or 
 Charles. 
 
 " I will tell you," she said, struggling to appear as calm 
 as she could. " Come nearer, so that you can hear me 
 better." 
 
 They obeyed. 
 
 " When you hear what I have to relate to you," she 
 continued, I feel sure that you will take part with me. 
 In the first place, that is my husband ! " 
 
 As she said that, which she did in a most contemptuous 
 manner, she pointed to Charles. 
 
 Our friends waited in silence for her to continue. 
 
 " I feel almost ashamed to confess it, but I have loved 
 that man- 1 am afraid I still do love him. Time was 
 when he was worthier than he is now, and returned my 
 affection. But there came into our house that hussy who 
 sits yonder. She was perishing from want and cold. I 
 took her in, even as the man m the fable took the viper. 
 Like the viper, she turned against me. She showed her 
 gratitude by practising innumerable arts to win my hus- 
 band from me. Not that she loved him, but because he 
 was rich and could indulge her in every species of extrava- 
 gance. She succeeded in ensnaring him, and from that 
 time happiness and myself have been strangers. Day 
 after day I saw him sinking still deeper and deeper into 
 difficulties. She was the cause. At length it came to my 
 ears that he was about to raise all the money he possibly 
 could, and then fly with his mistress to the continent, 
 leaving me to misery and poverty, and to fight my way 
 through the world as best I could. ' 
 
 CHAPTER CVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD WITNESS A SINGULAR 
 DUEL. 
 
 The outraged wife paused a moment for breath, but it 
 was only for a moment 
 Then she went on. 
 
 " As soon as I discovered this, I set out in pursuit of 
 them, determined to punish her with my own hand. The 
 laws will allow me no redress, so I am driven to do so, 
 for I will never allow her to go free. By what means 
 their flight has been arrested I know not, nor do I care. 
 I rejoice at the chance, whatever it may be, which has 
 placed her so completely in my power. And so I call 
 upon you both to render me what assistance I may require. 
 Will you do so ? " 
 
 " We will ! " said Blueskin ; " I don't like to interfere 
 in other people's quarrels, but, under the circumstances, I 
 think they fully deserve some retribution at your hands ! " 
 
 " They do." 
 
 " What must we do F " 
 
 " Allow me to be uninterrupted." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " Hold my husband here, and keep him from interposing 
 between his minion and myself." 
 
 " Agreed! We'll manage that. Lay hold, Jack ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin suddenly bent down in the saddle, 
 and caught the unfortunate husband by the collar of his 
 coat, and being a powerful man, he, by exerting all his 
 strength, pulled him to his feet. 
 
 Jack then caught hold of him on the other side, and so, 
 between the two, he was held there in a perfectly helpless 
 condition. 
 
 No sooner did she see that her husband was perfectly 
 secure than, with great speed, she ran back to her own 
 carriage. 
 
 But she was back again in a moment. 
 
 In her hands she carried two long glittering rapiers. 
 
 Matters began to assume a serious aspect. 
 
 What was she going to do with those weapons ? 
 
 They soon saw. 
 
 " Choose ! " she cried, in a Ligh-strained tone of voice, as 
 she went to the post-chaise in which Susanna still sat, 
 though half-dead with fright. " Choose ! Will you remain 
 there and be slain, or come forth and have a chance cf 
 your life ! " 
 
 " Mercy ! mercy ! " shrieked Susanna. " Save me, oh ! 
 save me from this dreadful woman. Help, help ! " 
 
 "Choose!" said Julia. " I shall not ask again. Will 
 you come forth ? " 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Have mercy upon me, and I will do all 
 ihat you ask ! Mercy ! mercy I " 
 
 With streams and tears and sighs, and wild cries for help 
 Susanna alighted from the post-chaise. 
 
 But she sank down immediately upon the ground. 
 Then Julia took one of the swords, and laid it down by 
 the side of her rival. 
 
 The other she grasped firmly in her own Land, and held 
 in a posture of attack. 
 
 "Take up that sword," she cried, " and defend yourself! 
 I give you that chance of your life ! Take it up, 1 say, or, 
 so surely as there is a heaven above us, I will slay you as 
 you are ! " 
 
 Blueskin could not help feeling a great amount of ad- 
 miration for this singular being, who in so masculine and 
 self-reliant a manner set about the redressment of her 
 wrongs. 
 
 To be sure a great deal of exception can be taken to 
 what she did, but then there was every excuse for her, 
 for people under the domination of a powerful rage will 
 do what, under less exciting circumstances, they would 
 never dream of doing. 
 
 That she felt the injury which had been done her most 
 keenly there can be no doubt, and she happened to pos- 
 sess sufficient spirit to take the affair into her own 
 hands. 
 
 The girl Susanna shrank and trembled when she saw 
 these terrible preparations on the part of the justly-in- 
 censed wife. 
 
 She did not attempt to take the weapon which had 
 been put with the hilt so conveniently to her grasp, but 
 seemed to try to shrink down into the earth. 
 
 An expression of contemptuous disdain was upon Julia's 
 face as she turned towards Blueskin and Jack, and 
 spoke. 
 
 "Let me intreat you," she said, "to leave this guilty 
 coward in my hands. Will you promise me that you will 
 not interfere, but stand and see fair play between us ? " 
 " We will," replied Blueskin. 
 
 " And my husband," she added, as that individual made 
 a desperate but unsuccessful effort to get free, " keep him 
 as well from interfering with us." 
 
 " Don't be afraid," returned Blueskin. 
 "And you," continued Julia (who became calmer 
 every moment), as she turned to the postilions, " will find 
 it your best policy to remain neuter." 
 Things were now coming to a climax. 
 The greatest violence of her passion, now that she saw 
 her victim fully in her power, abated, but it left behind a 
 cold-blooded feeling of determined revenge. 
 
 With the manner of one who was by no means a stranger 
 to the use of the rapier, she held hers in her hand, and 
 pointed it at the breast of her rival. 
 
 " Rise, hussy," she said ; " I will give you a chance 
 of your worthless life. Rise and defend yourself with the 
 weapon at your side, or, if you do not, I will, as surely as 
 there is a sky above us, slay you where you arc." 
 
 Up to this moment Susanna seemed to be overcome 
 with the most abject terror, but now a sudden and re- 
 markable alteration took place. 
 It was the courage of desperation. 
 She was, indeed, like one of those wild animals who, as 
 long as they are able, will fly from danger, but who at the 
 last, when forced at bay, will turn round and defend them- 
 selves. 
 
 Uttering, then, a scream of rage, she, by a sudden 
 movement of her arm, took hold of the rapier. 
 
 She rose to her feet, and, with great speed, threw off 
 her hat and cloak, in order that they might not encumber 
 her. 
 
 "Now," she cried, "you have forced this quarrel on 
 me. I avoided it as long as I could, but now that you 
 have forced me to it, woe be to you ! " 
 
 And no sooner had she spoken the words than, 
 shortening her arm, she made a furious lunge at her 
 adversary. 
 
 It was parried, though somewhat unskilfully. 
 A terrible and vindictive earnestness was now apparent 
 in the eyes of both women. 
 
 It was, as they knew weD, a life and death conflict. 
 The guttering blades twisted and twirled about in every 
 imaginable shape. 
 Then a slight scream was heard. 
 
 Susanna felt the point of her opponent's weapon enter 
 her left arm. 
 The wound was a trifling one — a mere puncture, in fact
 
 156 
 
 BLUESKIN: a romance. 
 
 — and so far from causing hereto shrink, it spumed to 
 endow her with fresh vigour. ' 
 
 Again the swords clashed. 
 
 Susanna bent all her energies T o attack, and, to tell 
 truth, Julia had much ado to defend herself. 
 
 She allowed no sound to escape her lips, but she felt 
 more than once thai she was wounded. 
 
 Indeed, as it now turned out, they appeared to be pretty- 
 equally matched. 
 
 It would be hard to say what were the precise feelings 
 of Blueskin and Sheppard as they witnessed this singular 
 combat. 
 
 They could not help thinking that the wife was in the 
 right, so far as their own notions went, but still they did 
 not for all that exactly like the idea of two females 
 engaging in a duel of so deadly a character. 
 
 But they had given their words not to interfere, and so 
 they resolved to keep to what they had said. 
 
 As for the husband— the unworthy wretch who had been 
 the cause of all this— from the moment the contest fairly 
 commenced, he ceased to struggle to get free, but looked 
 on with a strange kind of fascination. 
 
 The movements of the combatants now became so rapid, 
 that iu the darkness they could with the greatest difficulty 
 be distinguished. 
 
 Hound and round, backwards and forwards, to the right, 
 to the left, leaving, whichever direction they took, a track 
 of blood as they went. 
 
 Still neither seemed to be seriously or dangerously 
 hurt. 
 
 Presently, however, there was one horrible scream of 
 anguish, followed almost instantly by another. 
 
 The weapons clashed more feebly. 
 
 Then Susanna's arm failed her. 
 
 She staggered, and almost fell. 
 
 In an instant Julia took advantage of it. 
 
 With a cry of triumph, which the pain she was suffering 
 almost converted into a groan, she ran her lival through 
 the body. 
 
 The keen point of the rapier entered her breast, and 
 such was the vigour of the thrust that the hilt struck with 
 a dull sound against the part where the point had entered. 
 
 Susanna fell. 
 
 A gleam of ferocious joy shot from the eyes of Julia. 
 
 She tried to move — to speak. 
 
 But utterance and motion were denied her. 
 
 With a deadly feeling of sickness, a sensation as though 
 the world was gliding from her, she fell to the earth, 
 bleeding from innumerable wounds. 
 
 There was a momentary stillness. 
 
 No one present had anticipated such a sanguinary ter- 
 mination to the duel. 
 
 Blueskin was the fust to recover himsei.. 
 
 Relaxing his hold upon the husband's collar, he dis- 
 mounted with great rapidity from his steed, and ran to 
 where the two women lay. 
 
 He was immediately followed by Jack and the postilions, 
 who had looked upon the whole scene with the greatest 
 wonder and alarm. 
 
 Susanna was nearest to him, so it was over her that 
 Blueskin first stooped. 
 
 Kneeling down, he raised her head carefully. 
 
 A groan of terrible anguish came from her lips, and he 
 was obliged to return her to her former position. 
 
 " It is all over with her, I fear. She cannot possibly 
 survive. I hope the other has escaped better." 
 
 With tottering steps, the husband approached the spot. 
 
 What his feelings were no one knew, but he stooped 
 down over Susanna, and groaned aloud. 
 
 CHAPTER CVII. 
 
 BLUESKIN UNFORTUNATELY TAKES JACK SHEPPARD's 
 ADVICE. 
 
 At that moment, perhaps, there pressed upon his mind 
 with full force the consequences which his own actions had 
 entailed. 
 
 It was all his work, although, of course, had he been 
 permitted, he would have endeavoured to prevent matters 
 going to the extreme length they had. 
 
 Some fondness for this roan must have had a home in 
 Susanna's heart, for when she found who it was that was 
 bending over her, she, despite the frightful pain the action 
 
 occasioned her, raised her arms and twined them coost 
 his neck. 
 
 But it was only for an instant. 
 
 She could not possibly have long survived that ghastly 
 wound in her chest, but the term of life that remained te- 
 ller was shortened sensibly by taking that last embrace. 
 
 Once, and only once did she draw him towards herself, 
 and then, with a low moan of anguish, she fell back 
 dead! 
 
 In the meantime Blueskin had hastened to the other 
 combatant, who was known to him only by her Christian 
 name, Julia. 
 
 Her condition was bad, indeed, but not so desperate as 
 her rival's. 
 
 ".A surgeon ought to be had here at once," said Blueskin. 
 Then, turning to the terrified postilions, he added, " Ride 
 one of you to the nearest town, and bring one here without 
 delay.' 
 
 Jack Sheppard knelt down by the head of the injured 
 wife, and with his hands gently put back her hair, which 
 was streaming over her face. 
 
 As he did so, his ears caught a faint sound coming from 
 her lips. 
 
 Still lower he bent his head and listened. 
 
 " A surgeon ! a surgeon ! " she said. " Quick ! fetch 
 one, or I die ! " 
 
 " All is well," said Jack, soothingly, " the postilions 
 have departed in search of one." 
 
 At this moment her husband approached. 
 
 His appearance was grief-stricken in the extreme. 
 
 "We will leave you," said Blueskin, "to your own 
 thoughts. Should both of these be brought to death, you 
 will be morally their murderer. Now, Jack, mount, and 
 let us be off." 
 
 Charles, the husband, said not a word in reply to 
 Blueskin. It is questionable, indeed, if he understood the 
 purport of his speech. 
 
 In obedience to his comrade's words, Jack left his posi- 
 tion at the woman's head, and went towards the horses. 
 
 " We had best be off at once," said Blueskin, " before 
 others arrive ; and we have got no time to lose, for look , 
 some one is coming now." 
 
 " There is. Which way shall we go ? " 
 
 " Back to London." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 A sharp application of the spurs made the horses set 
 forward at a good gallop. 
 
 For some moments not a word was said, but when they 
 drew in a little, and were beyond all signs or sounds of 
 human beings, Jack said — 
 
 " Well, Blue, this has been my first adventure on the 
 road. Heaven knows it has been a strange one ! " 
 
 " You are right." 
 
 " It is an incident that would furnish material for much 
 thought." 
 
 " No one knows," said Blueskin, " how many little 
 domestic tragedies are daily enacted. You see we have 
 come across one of them." 
 
 " And about one of the strangest, I should think." 
 
 " Does it appear so to you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And you have the clue to the whole affair. Now, how 
 incomprehensible it will appear to those who will arrive 
 upon the scene ! " 
 
 " True." 
 
 " Altogether, I am much vexed at it." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because it cannot fail to be productive of trouble 
 to us." 
 
 "In what way ? " 
 
 " We have allowed several persons to see us distinctly, 
 and lor a long enough time for them to be able to give a 
 minute and accurate description of us." 
 
 " Very true." 
 
 "The little episode we have witnessed to-night will 
 attract a great deal of attention among all classes, and the 
 utmost pains will be taken to apprehend us, not merely 
 for the sake of the robbery, but because we are mixed up 
 in it, and may be supposed in a position to explain 
 things." 
 
 " But there is the husband." 
 
 " He will be careful what he says, you may depend. He 
 will have no desire to criminate himself." 
 
 " But the postilions ? "
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 157 
 
 " They know something of the affair, it is true, but for 
 all that we shall be looked close after. Now, I am vexed 
 all the more abouj; that in consequence of the pains I have 
 taken to disguise myself." 
 
 " Now you will have to find another." 
 
 " I know I shall, but ten to one if I find one so 
 good." 
 
 " Why not return to your proper character ? " 
 
 " Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " What of him ? Sooner or later he must learn the 
 secret of your return to life, and I do not see what object 
 you would gain in keeping it from him. 
 
 "Nor I, now. Of course you know why I assumed 
 it?" 
 
 "I do," said Jack; "it was to seek for Bess. In the 
 strange events which have just happened I lost sight of 
 her for a moment. Oh ! Blake, tell me where I am to 
 look to find her ! " 
 
 "Alas! I know not. However, we are in a better 
 position to make our inquiries than we were." 
 
 " How much have you taken ? " 
 
 " I cannot tell." 
 
 " Look." 
 
 " It is pretty fair. It will be best to defer till we reach 
 London." 
 
 " But where do you propose to go ? What steps do you 
 intend to take ? " 
 
 " I am at a loss to say. I did not think when I spoke. 
 We shall have to be very careful, or you will be made a 
 prisoner." 
 
 " What shall we do ? . Where shall we turn ? " 
 
 " I can tell no better than yourself. She has disap- 
 peared, and left not the slightest clue by which she may 
 be traced." 
 
 " Do give me hope." 
 
 " Certainly ! We must set to work, and think into 
 whose hands she is most likely to have fallen." 
 
 " Lord Donmull's ? " 
 
 " I am glad of that. The same good luck we have 
 hitherto had may desert us, and should either of us be 
 captured, wounded, or killed, there would be an end to 
 all." 
 
 " Do not be timid. But I can tell you are apprehensive, 
 and so on that very account, it will, I daresay, be best to 
 avoid the encounter." 
 " I am sure." 
 
 " But for all that I think it would be better for us to 
 draw up under the shadow of the hedge and let it pass." 
 
 " I see no reason why we should court observation." 
 
 " It will be prudent to avoid it." 
 
 " There seems to be a lane just a little further on, on 
 your left hand." 
 
 " It looks as if there was." 
 
 " We will ride forward and see. If it should turn out 
 that we are right, we wiD back our horses into it and there 
 wait while it passes." 
 
 A dozen steps brought them to the place in question, 
 which, as they had fully expected, proved to be a lane. 
 
 They had just time to walk their horses a pace or two 
 into it and turn round, when the carriage arrived. 
 
 It was going at full speed. 
 
 Perhaps it was only natural that both Jack and Blueskin 
 should look upon the approaching vehicle with more than 
 common curiosity, but, whether it was or not, they did so. 
 
 On it came like a huge cloud. 
 
 It swept past the top of the lane with great velocity. 
 
 As it did so, however, a terrific and bewildering scream 
 reached their ears— so loud, so shrill, so piercing, that it 
 was distinctly heard above the trampling of the horses and 
 the rumbling of the wheels. 
 
 CHAPTER CVIII. 
 
 OUR TWO FRIENDS MEET RATHER UNEXPECTEDLY WITH 
 JONATHAN WILD ON BLACKFRIAR'S-BRIDGE. 
 
 " What does that mean ? " asked Jack, as soon as he suf- 
 
 "Possibly, or into those of some other of Jonathan , ficient]y recovered the ' shock of the ' surpnse to speal / 
 
 Wild's agents. 
 
 " I am perplexed," said Jack ; " but from this moment 
 I will take an oath to do nothing, have nothing in view 
 but her discovery. Towards that end I shall turn all my 
 thoughts and actions. It remains for you to say whether 
 you will aid me." 
 
 " You know I will, Jack ; my motive may not be quite 
 so powerful a one as yours, but it is nearly." 
 
 Jack grasped his comrade's hand. It was all he could 
 do towards expressing his thanks. 
 
 "And now you bring me back to my first question, 
 what shall we do ? " 
 
 " One moment," said Blueskin. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Listen." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Can you hear nothing ? " 
 
 "Now I can. It is the grinding of wheels." 
 
 " Yes, some other vehicle is approaching us. Look, 
 there are the lamps." 
 
 " I see them! " 
 
 " Draw aside, Jack." 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 "No! why not?" 
 
 " Did you think of stopping it ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; we cannot get too much booty." 
 
 " My friend, we have sufficient for our immediate wants 
 — let that suffice." 
 
 " I do not see any reason for letting this go by." 
 
 " You may not, but Blake, my friend, I want to devote 
 the whole of my energies to the task of finding Edgworth 
 Bes6. Let all other things be forgotten, or unheeded. 
 Will you promise me this ? " 
 
 " I will if you wish it, though I don't see why our 
 stopping the carriage, or whatever it is that is coming, 
 should interfere with that task in any way." 
 
 " Do you not ? " 
 
 " I do not, but still I am willing to give way to you. 
 We are under no necessity that I know of. But when you 
 come out upen the road, you should do all you can and then 
 be off." 
 
 " We have already done enough." 
 
 "A little more, then, won't make much difference." 
 
 " Be guided by me. Let this pass by unmolested." 
 
 " I consent." 
 
 " What does that mean, eh, Blue ? 
 
 " I no more know than you do. It was some one in the 
 carriage." 
 
 " Beyond all doubt." 
 
 " And a female ! " 
 
 " What a rate they are going at, to be sure. Why they 
 are almost out of sight." 
 
 " Yes ; they have increased their speed, I think." 
 
 " And the girl — I am sure it was a girl." 
 
 "So ami* 
 
 " Why did she shriek out so dreadfully ? " 
 
 " Heaven only knows. Perhaps she was being carried 
 off by force." 
 
 " But, then, if it was against her will, you would think 
 her abductors would take care that she gave utterance to 
 no such cry as that, which would be the means of calling 
 immediate attention to them." 
 
 " That may be, but it is just possible those means may 
 not have been sufficient, or that she may have taken 
 advantage of some unexpected circumstance." 
 
 " There was but one cry." 
 
 " Only one, and that one seemed as though it had been 
 stopped suddenly." 
 It is very strange." 
 
 " You may well think that. There is only one thing I 
 regret." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 "That I did not refuse your request, and carry out my 
 original intention of stopping the carriage." 
 
 But think what fresh difficulties we might have got 
 into." 
 
 " I do ; but you ought to think, as well, that we might 
 have been the means of getting some one out of one." 
 
 Alas ! Blueskin little thought bow perfectly right he 
 was, and how materially the whole aspect of affairs would 
 have been changed if he had stopped the carriage. 
 
 But fate, destiny, providence, or whatever name you 
 may choose to call mysterious chance, had decreed other- 
 wise. 
 
 Had he have stopped the carriage, much future misery 
 would have been averted. 
 
 Perhaps the reader already guesses who was the inmate 
 of the carriage. 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess.
 
 158 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 By what strange succession of events she became so, 
 we have yet to relate. 
 
 The doings of others have compelled us to leave her 
 for some time, but ere long we shall be able, for a period, 
 to devote ourselves exclusively to her strange fortunes. 
 
 Little did Jack think, as the carriage whirled by, and 
 the shriek smote upon his ear, that she of whom he was 
 in search was so close to him, and in greater peril than 
 she had ever been before, or that that awful heart-burst- 
 ing scream came from her lips. 
 
 Little did he think what he had missed by not acting iu 
 accordance with Blueskin's wishes. 
 
 The sounds of the receding vehiole died away into the 
 silence of the night. 
 
 It was not until it had fairly done so that the two friends 
 moved. 
 
 The discontinuance of the sound to which they had 
 been listening seemed to have the effect of breaking the 
 kind of spell that was upon them. 
 
 " It's very strange," said Blueskin, as he walked his 
 horse out of the lane into the middle of the high-road, and 
 there halted. " I don't feel at all at ease. I have half a 
 mind now to gallop after it." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " replied Jack, " that can do no good. 
 Besides, they have got too good a start for us to hope to 
 overtake them in anything like a reasonable distance, to 
 say nothing of the danger of revisiting the spot where the 
 duel took place." 
 
 " Well — well ! I suppose we must go back to London 
 now." 
 
 " That is it," said Jack ; " but let us go slowly, so that 
 we can talk. Where shall we go to in London ? " 
 
 " It will not do to go to the " Black Lion." 
 
 " By no means ! " 
 
 " I think I can manage now. Do you know Gilbert's- 
 passage ? " 
 
 " Whereabouts is it ? " 
 
 " At the back of Clare-market." 
 
 " I know it very well j but you do not think of going 
 there, do you ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " It is so close to Drury-lane ! " 
 
 " So much the better ! " 
 
 " Do you think so ? " 
 
 " I am sure ! We shall be less likely to be suspected 
 there ! " 
 
 " As you will ! " 
 
 " If you agree to that, the best thing we can do now is 
 to make our way there direct, for it will be daylight by 
 the time we arrive." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " We must lie by during the day, and as soon as it is 
 dark, we must sally out and try if we cannot be successful 
 in finding some trace of the missing girl." 
 
 " I shall not know what rest is until we find her ! " 
 
 " I can understand your anxiety, but, Jack, you ought 
 to remember that, unless you are careful to preserve your 
 own powers, you will fall an easy prey into the hands of 
 your enemies." 
 
 " True— true ! " 
 
 " Get all the rest you can ! " 
 
 " But when we start out, what course shall we adopt ? " 
 
 " That it would be hard to say until the time comes. 
 During the next twelve hours or so, something may turn 
 up to give us the clue we want ! " 
 
 " I trust there may ! " 
 
 "And so do I ?" 
 
 " Have you any hopes of such a thing ? " 
 
 " No particular hope, but still it is probable such a 
 thing might happen." 
 
 "But suppose the day should pass away and night 
 come, and find us in the same state as we are now, what 
 should you do ? " 
 
 " What should you ? " 
 
 " I know not, hardly." 
 
 " There is but one plan that I can think of." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " We have tolerable evidence that she reached Warwick- 
 lane." 
 
 " We have that she reached Newgate-market." 
 
 " Well, that is much the same thing. It next remains 
 
 to consider, upon finding herself there, what direction 
 would she be likely to take." 
 
 " There it is ! For my own part, I think it most likely 
 that she was in such a state of mental agitation and 
 confusion, that she would take the first course that came." 
 
 " There is a strong probability of that, but no more 
 than that the " Black Lion " rose before her mind, and 
 that she made the best of her way there." 
 
 " But she never reached it." 
 
 " I know that, but it does not follow that she did not 
 set out with the intention of doing so. She may have 
 been intercepted. You must know, as well as I do, that it 
 is by no means safe for a girl to pass through London 
 streets alone at such an hour." 
 
 " I do know it — I do know it, and when I think of the 
 fearful dangers she would likely enough encounter, my 
 heart grows sick within me ! " 
 
 " Cheer up. All may not be so bad as you anticipate. 
 She may have fallen into good hands." 
 
 " She may, but I fear she has not." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because, if she had, she would have sent word to the 
 ' Black Lion,' knowing how uneasy I should be on her 
 account. No, my friend; you cannot cheat me with that 
 hope." 
 
 " I would fain do so. Let us return to our search. ' ' 
 
 " We will assume, then, first of all that she started for 
 the ' Black Lion.' " 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 "To reach it she would doubtless take the main 
 thoroughfares." 
 
 " Ludgate-hill, Fleet-street, and the Strand." 
 
 "Just so. We will then, step by step, go the whole of 
 the distance, taking that route, and on our way make 
 every inquiry we possibly can. If she has gone that way 
 we shall assuredly hear some tidings of her." 
 
 " Oh ! you fill me with joy ! Let us make the attempt 
 at once." 
 
 " Not so, and for many reasons. In the first place, it 
 would be in the highest degree unsafe for you to show 
 yourself by daylight ; and, in the second, as it was night 
 when she went, it naturally follows that night is the most 
 proper time for us to set about making our inquiries." 
 
 " So it does." 
 
 " Keep yourself as calm and cool all the day as you 
 possibly can. When night comes, I trust we shall learn 
 something that will lift this load from our hearts." 
 
 " Until I knew her," said Jack, " my life had no aim or 
 purpose, but since then I have been quite changed, and, 
 had circumstances permitted, should have been a different 
 being to what I am. I love her, and I will devote the 
 whole of my life to shield her from all harm, stand 
 between her and her enemies, and fight her battles, until 
 I succeed in restoring her to that wealth and dignity from 
 which she has been so unjustly debarred." 
 
 " You are a noble fellow, Jack," said Blueskin, deeply 
 impressed by the earnest manner in which his companion 
 had spoken. " You are a noble fellow, and it is a thousand 
 pities that you have been spoilt, and your better feelings 
 warped as they have been. Like you, I have the interest of 
 my master's child at heart. Like you, I shall live for no 
 other object than to see her restored to her rights." 
 
 There was a silence after these words were uttered, and 
 they trotted on to Blackfriars-bridge a few mniutes after- 
 wards. 
 
 Already was the morning light making itself perceptible. 
 
 Over the surface of the Thames there hung a slight 
 mist. 
 
 They had gained about the centre of the bridge when 
 they heard, on the hard stony roadway, the clattering of 
 horses' feet. 
 
 Simultaneously they looked before them, for it was 
 from that direction that the sounds came. 
 
 A party of six well-mounted men were coming over. 
 
 Our friends drew aside to allow them to pass them, 
 if they would, unnoticed, but one of the horsemen who 
 rode in advance of the others spurred his horse on towards 
 them. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he said. " Have you met any one on the 
 road ? Answer me, in the king's name. I am Jonathan 
 Wild ! "
 
 BLTTESKIN: A RCCMAXCE. 
 
 159 
 
 CHAPTER CIX. 
 
 TAKES A GLANCE AT SOME OF THE TAST PROCEEDINGS OF 
 JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 In order to account for the unexpected and embarrassing 
 appearance of Jonathan Wild upon the old bridge at 
 Blackfriars, and before we relate what took place there- 
 upon, it will be necessary for us to go back a little, and 
 take a glance at his late proceedings, for, as the reader 
 cannot fail to have observed, he has not occupied our 
 attention lately. 
 
 In order, therefore, to preserve the chronological se- 
 quence of our narrative, we ought to go back to the time 
 when he discovered the remains of the young man who 
 had been so barbarously murdered. 
 
 As may be readily imagined, he did not fail to make as 
 much of that affair as he possibly could, and take all the 
 credit to himself. 
 
 Indeed, upon this occasion, he made a more than 
 ordinary amount of fuss, for it was only by so doing once 
 now and then that he succeeded in blinding the eyes of 
 the authorities to his other questionable transactions. 
 
 The authorities, too, happened to require something of 
 the sort from Jonathan, for they had expressed their dis- 
 approbation of his doings rather audibly, in consequence, 
 not so much of what they had themselves seen, but of 
 what the numerous complaints from the inhabitants set 
 forth. 
 
 This lucky stroke, however, had the effect of completely 
 satisfying all parties, and those who had said the most 
 against him were now foremost in their praises of him. 
 
 In fact, it was just about this time that the popularity 
 of Wild was at its culminating point, from which its 
 decline was extremely rapid. 
 
 Lord Ingestrie never forgot the money it had cost him 
 to get back his diamond necklace. Indeed, we cannot 
 well see how he could forget, for he was an impoverished 
 nobleman, and at times almost at his wits end for money. 
 Indeed, it is wonderful how he stood up against such a 
 loss. Few knew the straits to which he was reduced. 
 
 The necklace would never have been redeemed at all, 
 but it was an heir-loom, and many families knew that lie 
 possessed it. Lady Ingestrie never went anywhere with- 
 out wearing it, and so had it been missed the most un- 
 charitable construction would have been placed upon it, 
 and though the story of its having been stolen might have 
 been received and openly apparently believed, yet behind 
 their backs hints of a very disagreable nature would be 
 dropped. 
 
 But the precious necklace once back, even at so great a 
 price, his lordship determined, not so much out of desire 
 to do the public service as procure his own revenge, his 
 lordship, we say, determined to make an effort to put an 
 end to that sort of thing, and it was mainly owing to his 
 exertions that the Act of Parliament was framed and 
 passed which made the carrying on of Wild's business so 
 difficult as it afterwards became. 
 
 This Stansbury affair, however, for a time rendered all 
 that he had done of no avail, for Jonathan, at his own 
 expense, caused a number of pamphlets to be printed, 
 professing to give an authentic account of the matter, 
 and in which the most unmeasured praise was awarded to 
 himself. 
 
 It is much to be regretted that there is not one of these 
 little books extant. Now it would prove both interesting 
 and instructive, as well as give a still better idea of what 
 the man was like. 
 
 None knew better than he did the value and importance 
 of following up an advantage gained. 
 
 Accordingly, he looked about him for some means by 
 which he could apparently render the public still further 
 service ; nor was he long in finding what he sought. 
 
 We think it will be best given in the words of a writer 
 of the period, who says — 
 
 " The vast increase and expensive circulation of counter- 
 feit money some years ago was too obvious not to have 
 attracted the notice of all ranks. 
 
 " It had become an enormous evil in the melancholy 
 catalogue of crimes which the laws of the country were 
 ealled upon to assist the police to suppress. 
 
 " Ita extent almost exceeded credibility, and the dexterity 
 and ingenuity of the coiners had (after considerable prac- 
 tice) enabled them to finish the different kinds of base 
 money in so masterly a manner that it had become ex- 
 
 tremely difficult for a common observer to distinguish 
 their spurious manufacture from the genuine silver of the 
 mint. 
 
 " So systematic, too, had this nefarious traffic become, 
 that the great dealers, who wore in most instances tho 
 employers of the comers, executed orders for the town and 
 country with the same regularity as manufacturers in fair 
 branches of trade. 
 
 <: Scarcely a waggon or coach departed irorn the 
 metropolis which did not carry boxes and parcels of base 
 coin to the camps, seaports, and manufacturiug towns. 
 
 " In London regular markets in various public and 
 private houses were held by the principal dealers, where 
 hawkers, pedlars, fraudulent horse dealers, unlicensed 
 lottery-office keepers, gamblers at fairs, itinerant Jews, 
 Irish labourers, servants of toll gatherers, and hackney 
 coach owners, fraudulent publicans, market women, rabbit 
 sellers, fish criers, barrow women, and many who could 
 not be suspected, were regularly supplied with counterfeit 
 copper and silver, with the advantage of nearly £100 per 
 cent, in their favour, and thus it happened that through 
 these various channels the country was deluged with im- 
 mense quantities of base money. 
 
 '' The mischief arising from counterfeiting the current 
 coin of the realm reaches to every door. A poor man 
 cheated by a single base shilling frequently sustains a loss 
 greater than a forgery to the wealthy merchant. 
 
 " Coining or uttering base money is high treason in the 
 second degree. 
 " To rob all the people is to be a traitor to the state." 
 The above-quoted author, William Baldwin, an attorney - 
 at-law, who gave the subject the closest attention, a little 
 further on writes as follows : — 
 
 " It has been discovered that there are at least ona 
 hundred and twenty persons in the metropolis and in the 
 country employed principally in coining and selling base 
 money, and this, independent of the numerous horde of 
 utterers, who chiefly support themselves by passing it at 
 its full value. It will scarcely be credited that, of 
 criminals of this latter class who were either detected, 
 prosecuted, or convicted within the last seven years, there 
 stood upon the register of the Solicitor of the Mint more" 
 than six hundred and fifty names ! 
 
 "When the reader is informed that two persons can 
 finish from £200 to £300 (nominal value) in base silver in 
 six days, and takes into calculation the number of known 
 coiners, the aggregate amount in the course of the year 
 will be found to be immense." 
 
 Some very interesting particulars are then given, and 
 which, had we the space, we should willingly quote. But 
 we must refrain from doing so. Our object was merely, 
 by quoting from this author, to show the reader to what an 
 insufferable extent the practice had been carried, and in 
 order that, looking at things as they now are, they should 
 not undervalue what Jonathan did. 
 
 The prevalence of counterfeit coin was about the greatest 
 evil then in existence, and there was no one who did not 
 feel the effects of it at some time or the other. 
 
 The result of this was, that for some time past there had 
 been a very popular outcry against the " smashers," as the 
 utterers of bad money were called, and the government 
 was called upon to take some more energetic measures to 
 suppress the evil. 
 
 This, then, was the chance which Jonathan seized upon, 
 in order to thoroughly ingratiate himself into the favour 
 of the public. 
 The policy of this must be at once obvious to all. 
 Situated as Jonathan was, and having so many spies in 
 all parts of the kingdom, it was not long before he received 
 intelligence of the whereabouts of an extensive gang of 
 coiners and utterers of base coin. 
 
 These he resolved to make the stepping-stones to his 
 popularity, by bringing to speedy justice. 
 
 Taking all his measures with the utmost precaution, and 
 laying his plans with the greatest care, he succea^d iu 
 effecting their capture at the very moment thfey were 
 engaged in their illegal trade. 
 
 Upon these offenders being lodged in prison, the legis- 
 lature awoke at last to the fact that something by way of 
 example must be done to these men, in order to strike 
 terror into the hearts of others. 
 
 Accordingly, when placed upon their trial, they were 
 found guilty of high treason, and sentenced to death. 
 That this was an extreme penalty for such an offence
 
 iee 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 inust be conceded, but, at the same time, it is necessary to 
 bear in view the gigantic proportions which this evil had 
 assumed. 
 
 These men were duly executed, and then all felt that 
 coining would be at an end, in consequence of which 
 ionathan rose to a still greater height than ever he had 
 dreamed of. 
 
 And so, while things were prospering so well with the 
 villainous thief-taker, those three persons in whom we feel 
 so deep an interest were sinking into deeper and deeper 
 trouble. 
 
 But surely the day will shortly come when — 
 
 The wronged shall be righted. 
 No wrong unrequited. 
 
 For the coming of that day, however, W3 must wait in 
 patience. At present, darkness enshrouds the horizon, 
 through which not the faintest glimmering of light is per- 
 ceptible. 
 
 These matters occupied nearly the whole of Jonathan's 
 attention, when he would fain have directed it in a totally 
 different channel ; but he felt the opportunity was too 
 favourable to be lost. 
 
 Then the reader of this narrative will doubtless be able 
 to account for the manner in which he spent his time up 
 to that moment when, on returning to his domicil, he had 
 been seriously wounded by some one in the garb of a gen- 
 tleman, and whose face was perfectly unknown to him. 
 
 CHAPTER CX. 
 
 JONATHAN UNEXPECTEDLY FINDS THE CLUE TO THE 
 MYSTERIOUS EVENTS WHICH SO PUZZLED HIM. 
 
 It will not be forgotten that Blueskin gave the thief- 
 taker such a thrust with his sword that the weapon passed 
 completely through his breast near the shoulder, and 
 pinned him to the front door, against which he had been 
 leaning. 
 
 Then Steggs, seeing his old foe so helpless, and unable 
 td defend himself, had struck him a violent blow in the 
 face with his fist, which rendered him insensible. 
 
 How Blueskin then withdrew his sword, and darted out 
 into the street, followed by his two companions, we have 
 already related. 
 
 Jonathan Wild fell down on the floor of his own hall 
 like a corpse. 
 
 The janizaries who happened to be in the house, hear- 
 ing his summons, and other sounds indicative that all was 
 not going on just as it should, had hastened to the scene of 
 action. 
 
 But they were in the upper portion of the house, and so 
 rapid was Blueskin in all his movements, that, when they 
 x descended, they saw nothing but the open door, and Jona- 
 than and Quilt Arnold lying as- though dead upon the 
 floor. 
 
 Their immediate and most natural impulse, therefore, 
 was to surround their leader. 
 
 He was bleeding profusely, and showed no signs of 
 vitality. 
 
 Quilt Arnold, however, was rapidly recovering himself, 
 and by the time he was unbound was well enough to be 
 able to give them some idea of what had happened. 
 
 Thereupon, one or two ran to the door and listened, but 
 all was quite silent. 
 
 To attempt a pursuit would be folly. 
 
 And so they turned the whole of their attention to 
 Jonathan. 
 
 In course of a little time, and under judicious treat- 
 ment, he came to himself. 
 
 Of the horrible pain he suffered, and the still more hor- 
 rible curses which he uttered, it is not our intention to say 
 a word. 
 
 Let it sumce that the wound turned out not to be so 
 serious a one as it looked. It had not touched any vital 
 part, nor did it interfere in any way with his breathing or 
 moving. 
 
 His iron constitution quickly enabled him to triumph 
 over it, and in less time than any one would have believed 
 possible, he was about as usual. 
 
 But his temper, never by any chance a very amiable one, 
 was by no means improved by this little incident, and he 
 bad one especial cause for vexation. 
 
 It was his wish to appear to his men to be invincible, 
 tni for a long time he had preserved the character, but he 
 
 had met with several reverses lately, which tended to very 
 seriously damage this equivocal reputation. 
 
 This was the feeling, then, that made his mind rise 
 superior to the ills of his body, and the instant he was 
 able to move he did so, altogether ignoring the advice of 
 his medical attendant upon the subject. 
 
 The first thing he learned was that the mysterious per- 
 sonage he had encountered had made a burglarious attack 
 upon his cells, and released the two prisoners who were 
 confined there. 
 
 But although this troubled him much, there was some- 
 thing that troubled him still more. 
 
 Who could this unknown individual be who had success- 
 fully performed the hazardous exploit, and what was his 
 motive for doing it. 
 
 He was perfectly bewildered. 
 
 He could think of nothing. 
 
 That the richly-attired stranger was no other than his 
 old lieutenant and associate, Blueskin, never for one 
 moment entered his mind ; in fact, he was about as con- 
 fident that he had given him his death wound as he was 
 of anything. 
 
 Further thought only seemed still further to perplex 
 him, and so at last he had to give it up in despair. 
 
 He was compelled to do this by the other matters that 
 were pressing upon him and requiring his immediate 
 attention. 
 
 There was Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Lord Donmull. 
 
 Of the first he could obtain no intelligence at all. 
 
 Of the second, he learned that he had been seen at 
 Johnson's, in Drury-lane, and that he had in some mys- 
 terious manner managed to elude recapture. 
 
 He instantly determined to proceed to the " Black Lion" 
 himself. He felt certain he was concealed somewhere on 
 the premises, and trusted to his own acuteness to un- 
 kennel him. 
 
 But when he reached it, it was just after Jack and 
 Blueskin had departed upon their highway expedition. 
 
 Of course, not a word was said to him about it by the 
 landlord, who was the only person in the secret of their 
 having left, and of course no opposition was made to 
 Wild's ransacking the house. 
 
 But Johnson's easy manner alone was almost enough to 
 convince Wild that the prey he sought was secure, but 
 just for satisfaction he looked closely about him. 
 
 The hiding-place in the stairs, however, was not dis- 
 covered by him. It would require a closer examination 
 than that which he upon this occasion made to detect it. 
 
 Eight men had accompanied him upon this little expe- 
 dition, and when the search was over, he took the pre- 
 caution of leaving three behind him to act as sentinels. 
 
 On reaching the street he looked carefully about him, 
 but no signs of those he sought could he see. 
 
 He stood for a moment undecided how to act. 
 
 He still clung to the idea that Jack had not left the 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 While thus in thought, he felt a slight touch upon his 
 arm. 
 
 Looking round to see who it was, he perceived one of 
 those miserable-looking specimens of humanity which are 
 now and then to be seen hanging about public-houses. 
 
 His clothes hung about him in tattered rags. 
 
 His feet were shoeless. 
 
 His eyes bleared and bloodshot. 
 
 His countenance full of furrows, in every one of which 
 was an accumulation of dirt. 
 
 " Mr. Wild, Mr. Wild," he said, in hoarse, croaking, yet 
 cringing accents. 
 
 "Ya-ah!" 
 
 " Mr. Wild ! " 
 
 " Be off." 
 
 " I have something to tell you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Ha ! What is it ? Speak ! Tell me," said Jonathan, 
 suddenly turning round, and clutching the wretched being 
 by the arm. 
 
 " Don't hurt me, Mr. Wild, and I will tell you." 
 
 " Be quick, then." 
 
 " You will give me something to drink if the news is 
 worth anything to you ? " 
 
 " Curse you ! yes. Let me hear what you 'know." 
 " You didn't notice me in the ' Black Lion,' did you ? 
 Ah ! there's many an hour I've spent there."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 [eDGWORTH BESS IS RESCUED BY COLONEL THORNE.] 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 " And many a guinea, too." 
 
 " Ya — ah ! Stop ; tell me what you know. Have you 
 seen anything ?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Well, while I was sitting in the front room near the 
 door, at the beginning of the evening, I saw Johnson go 
 to the door." 
 
 " Go on ! " 
 
 " I am, Mr. Wild. I fancied something was the matter, 
 so I made up my mind to keep my eyes open." 
 
 " Aud what did you see ? " 
 
 "Two tip-top gents follow him to the doorstep, and 
 then, after talking to each other a moment, went off." 
 
 "Tell me more ! " said Wild, impatiently, for he felt 
 he was on the right scent now, " tell me more, I say." 
 
 " Johnson came in again." 
 
 " And you say these two gents spoke to him ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Could you hear what was said ? " 
 
 " Partly, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " What did you hear then ? Quick ! tell me, and you 
 shall have a guinea." 
 
 " A guiuea ? " 
 
 " Go on, I say ! " 
 
 " You are joking with me." 
 
 " If you don't tell me what you heard them say, and 
 that at once," cried Wild, fiercely, " I will twist your head 
 off ! " 
 
 "Gil! Mr. Wild, don't. I'll tell you all, indeed I 
 will." 
 
 " Quick, then ! " 
 
 " It was the tones, Mr. Wild, more than anything else, 
 that struck me. It was a voice that I knew well, for 1 
 have heard it many times." 
 
 " Whose voice ? " thundered Jonathan. 
 
 " Your head man's — Blueskin." 
 
 " Blueskin ! " 
 
 " Yes, I recognised it in a moment." 
 
 No. 23.
 
 £62 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Impossible," said Wild ; " he is dead ! " 
 
 " No, I knew the tones." 
 
 " How was ne dressed ? " 
 
 " I only just caught sight of him. Hi? was a real tall 
 gentlemau, with gold lace on his hat, and a marone- 
 coloured coat, with ruffles." 
 
 A hideous roar, such as might have come up from the 
 throat of some enraged wild animal, burst fror?. Jonathan's 
 lips. 
 
 A light burst upon him. 
 
 He knew now who his mysterious assailaut was. He 
 recognised the description instantly. 
 
 Blueskin was not, as he thought, dead. 
 
 His men, who had crowded round him when the old 
 man had addressed him, now listened with great eager- 
 ness for what should follow next. 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 RELATES HOW .TACK SHEPPARD WAS TAKEN PRISONER 
 BY JONATHAN WILD, AND HOW BL1ESKIK ESCAPED 
 CAPTURE BY JUMPING OIF BLACKFRIA RS-BRIDGE INTO 
 THE THAMES. 
 
 " And the other ! " said Wild, furiously. " What was he 
 
 like ? " 
 
 i "A boy." 
 
 " Ah ! '" 
 
 " I've seen him before, Mr. Wild, though he was dressed 
 better than usual then." 
 
 " Where have you seen him ? " 
 
 " With Blueskin and Johnson, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " That's Jack then, by all that's damnable ! But you do 
 not tell me what you heard them say ! Speak ! Did 
 you catch any words ? " 
 
 " Only one or two, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Tell me enough to put me on the track, and you shall 
 name your own reward ! " 
 
 " I heard them mention some one's name," said the 
 besotted being, before whose clouded brain swept dim 
 visions of unlimited drink. " I heard them mention some 
 one's name." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " A girl's name, I take it." 
 
 "What was it? Quick ! do not palter with me ! Quick! 
 what name was it, 1 say ? " 
 
 " Bess ! " 
 
 " I am right, then ! Oh ! but they shall pay dearly for 
 this ! Doubtless they think themselves very cunning and 
 clever, and a match for Jonathan Wild, but I'll show 
 them the reverse, for when they have circumvented me 
 they will have but one more to out-manoeuvre ! " 
 
 " I know more, Mr. Wild," said the sot. " I can tell 
 you more ! I heard more ! " 
 
 " Speak, then, in the fiend's name ! What was it ? " 
 
 " I heard Blueskin, for Blueskin I am sure it was, Bay, 
 ' My first place will be the livery stables in Long-acre ! ' " 
 
 " Did you hear that ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Then why did you keep it back until now ? Forward, 
 Aiy men, we have found the track at last ! I know the 
 place he speaks of, and it will go hard with me if I do not 
 find out where they are ! Forward ! " 
 
 " But my reward, Mr. Wild ? " said the old man, " you 
 said I should name my own reward." 
 
 " I will save you the trouble, and give it you in full," 
 said Jonathan, brutally. 
 
 As he spoke, he struck the poor wretch a violent blow 
 on the head with his bludgeon. 
 
 He fell to the ground like a corpse. 
 
 This outbreak of gratuitous ferocity seemed to have a 
 mollifying effect upon Wild's temper. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 Then strode off with his men at his heels in the direction 
 of Long-acre. 
 
 He knew the stables well. He had many a time nired 
 horses from the keeper of them, and so, without any 
 hesitation or delay, he went direct to Charles-streeet. 
 
 Under the low archway, into the spacious paved yard 
 he passed. 
 
 Even as Blueskin himself would have done, he gave a 
 peculiar whistle. 
 
 It was immediately responded to by the appearance of 
 the ostler, who always sat up during the night iu Order to 
 receive the cattle when they returned. 
 
 The man carried in his hand a large stable lantern. 
 
 He held it up high above his head, as he cried — 
 
 " Who's there ? B 
 
 Jonathan did not speak, but glided forward, so that the 
 full force of the lantern's rays should fall upon his hideous 
 physiognomy. 
 
 He gave it, too, the most horrible expression he possibly 
 could. 
 
 The man drew back with a faint cry of dread. 
 
 Jonathan's name and face were well known to every 
 person in London. 
 
 Indeed, the latter once seen could never be forgotten. 
 It made too deep an impression on the mind for that. 
 
 " Ya-ah," he snarled. " You know me ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. If you please, sir." 
 
 "Ya-ah." 
 
 " Do you want anything, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and mind you speak the truth." 
 
 "Oh! I will, sir." 
 
 " Or you shall swing at T\ burn next sessions, and you 
 must know, when I promise any one that, they are as good 
 as scragged already." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Answer me, then ! Two persons came here to-night 
 and hired two horses. Don't attempt to deny that ! I 
 know it, and, moreover than that, know who those two 
 men are." 
 
 " You — you are right, Mr. Wild," said the ostler, who 
 had but a vague and undefined idea of the extent of Wild's 
 powers of mischief. 
 
 "Ya-ah. Now then; tell me the truth, as you value 
 your life. Which way did they take ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Seize him, then," cried Jonathan to his men. " To 
 Newgate with him ; he shall suffer for his ignorance." 
 
 "No — no, Mr. Wild ! Spare me ! " 
 
 " Tell me which way they went then." 
 
 " They only trotted out into Long-acre, Mr. Wild. I 
 saw no more of them." 
 
 "Did you hear nothing that would enable you to 
 guess ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, except that they said something about 
 the Kent-road." 
 
 "The Kent-road?" 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Ass— dolt. Why did you not mention this before ? " 
 
 " Mercy — mercy." 
 
 "Are you sure you heard them mention the Kent- 
 road ? " 
 
 " Quite sure, Mr. Wild. But I didn't pay no sort of 
 attention, because you see it was no business of mine." 
 
 " Six horses ! " yelled Jonathan. " Make haste, villain. 
 Six horses ! Saddle them at once ! They are for the 
 king's service ! My men will help ! Quick ! We shall 
 catch them yet ! " 
 
 Jonathan's myrmidons at once released their prisoner, 
 and followed him into the stable. 
 
 There was no lack of horses, so six were quickly capa- 
 risoned and led out. 
 
 Jonathan was full of impatience. 
 
 The delay, trifling as it was, chafed him. 
 
 He vaulted into the saddle. 
 
 Then, striking his spurs into his horse's flanks, he cried — 
 
 " Follow me ! To the Kent-road ! Forward ! For- 
 ward ! " 
 
 His men knew better than to dally, and they dashed 
 after him almost before they had got their seats. 
 
 Straight towards Blaekfriar's-bridge he went. 
 
 By the time they reached it, his men had got into 
 proper order, and as they went they formed quite a 
 military-looking cavalcade. 
 
 How they met Blueskin and Jack Sheppard upon the 
 bridge, as they were returning from their night excursion, 
 we have already related. 
 
 In the dim, misty light, Wild did not immediately 
 recognise them. 
 
 But he rode forward in oi'der to assure himself, and 
 addressed them. 
 
 The near approach enabled him to see that one of the 
 horsemen was l .ne mysterious visitant to his own house. 
 
 The other lr i not for a moment doubt was Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 " Seize them ! " he yelled. " Do not allow then' *o 
 escape ! Seize them 1 "
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 "163 
 
 "Fight for your life and liberty," shouted Blueskin, 
 drawing his sword. 
 Jack immediately followed his example. 
 Then ensued one of the most desperate combats that 
 eould be imagined. 
 
 Hemmed in as they were, flight was out of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 By keeping close to the parapet of the bridge, however, 
 they prevented their enemies getting behind. 
 But the odds were three to one. 
 
 Odds too great for them to have the hope of proving 
 victors. 
 
 Still they fought with the utmost desperation. 
 
 To be deprived of liberty just at that moment would be 
 destructive in the extreme. 
 
 But it very soon became evident that such would be the 
 case. 
 
 Jack was suddenly disarmed and made a prisoner. 
 
 Singjle-handed, to have attempted his rescue would have 
 been th'e height of folly. 
 
 But how was he to escape sharing his fate ? 
 
 His foes were pressing with redoubled vigour upon 
 him. 
 
 He resolved upon a desperate expedient. 
 
 It was perilous, but then he thought his position could 
 hardly be worse than it then was. 
 
 Freeing one foot from the stirrup, he, at the same 
 instant, swept his sword around him with such resistless 
 fury, that a circle was left for a brief instant by it. 
 
 Taking advantage of that small interval of time, he 
 took out his other foot, and placed it on the parapet of the 
 bridge. 
 
 Then, with a violent effort, he sprang over iuto the 
 river. 
 
 So astounded were Wild's men by this feat, that they 
 stood as if turned to stone, until they heard the heavy 
 splash below, which told them that his body had reached 
 the water. 
 
 Jonathan was the first to recover himself, for he had 
 been as much taken aback as his men. 
 
 " Guard your prisoner ! " he cried. " Look that he 
 does not escape. The rest of you follow me." 
 
 As he thus spoke, and without waiting to sec whether 
 his hasty commands were attended to, he galloped to the 
 end of the bridge. 
 
 Then, dismounting, he ran round the corner to where 
 the steps descended to the water's edge. 
 
 Two of his men held Jack firmly. 
 
 The other three followed close at his heels. 
 
 Down the wet, slippery steps he dashed like a madman. 
 
 It is the greatest wonder in the world that he did not 
 miss his footing and fall headlong to the bottom. 
 
 But he did not. 
 
 The mist that hung upon the surface of the Thames 
 baffled his vision. 
 
 With straining eyes he strove to pierce it. 
 
 " Boat, your honour ? " said a sleepy voice. " Want a 
 boat, your honour ? " 
 
 CHAPTER CXII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS FINDS SUCCOUR, EVEN AT THE ELEVENTH 
 HOUR, BUT DOES NOT REACH THE TERMINATION OF HER 
 PERILS. 
 
 Shriek after shriek burst from the lips of poor Edgworth 
 Bess, as the Mohawks continued their diabolical sport. 
 
 But so far from desisting in consequence, they persevered 
 the more, and replied to her screams of agony by shouts 
 of wild maniac laughter. 
 
 It was in vain she tried to escape the sharp points of 
 the swords, and when she instinctively drew back, it was 
 only to have her progress stopped by another weapon 
 entering her back. 
 
 Yet none of these wounds were serious ones, though 
 they caused her intolerable pain and fright. 
 
 In vain she asked for mercy. 
 
 A deaf ear was turned to her supplications. 
 
 But suddenly, when she felt that she was about to faint, 
 there was the hurried dash of horses' footsteps from the 
 direction of Temple-bar. 
 
 The sound reached not only the ears of the poor girl, 
 and filled her with new hope, but it reached her tormentors 
 also. 
 
 They paused a moment. 
 
 That moment was enough. 
 
 Before it had expired a horseman dashed into their 
 midst. 
 
 He was fully armed. 
 
 His long heavy sword was drawn, and he laid about him 
 with terrible effect. 
 
 With a cry of joy, Edgworth Bess sprang forward and 
 grasped the horse's bridle. 
 
 Instinctively she recognised the rider as a deliverer. 
 " Whoop ! whoop ! ahoy ! " shouted the Mohawks. 
 " Down with him, lads ! down with him ! Whoop ! 
 ahoy ! " 
 
 Clashing their swords together, they pressed forward 
 to the attack. 
 
 But the stranger, who had so opportunely made his 
 appearance upon the scene of action, stooped down, and 
 with an apparently slight effort, lifted Bess on to his 
 horse. 
 
 Then ho whirled his ponderous weapon round his head, 
 and the Mohawks fell before it like grain before the 
 sickle. 
 
 His steed, too, he made to prauce and rear in such a 
 manner, that the villains could not reach him. 
 
 But well skilled iu the art of defence as he was, he knew 
 very well he could not obtain a permanent advantage over 
 so many foes. 
 
 Watching his opportunity, then, and goading his horse 
 almost to madness, he cut a way through the throng. 
 
 Bight and left his sword flashed with inconceivable 
 rapidity, and every time it came down one of his opponents 
 fell to the earth. 
 
 He was clear. 
 
 The Mohawks, burning with rage, commenced an 
 ineffectual pursuit. 
 
 At a tremendous gallop, the horse, making nothing of 
 its double burden, dashed along the Strand. 
 
 In less than two minutes all sounds from the band of 
 dissolute 3'ouug men had died away. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was saved. 
 
 But by whom ? 
 
 She had not seen his face. 
 
 She had not heard his voice. 
 
 But she felt that he was a friend. 
 
 And then the moment he lifted her upon his horse, and 
 she felt that she was comparatively safe, her spirits failed 
 her, and she fell into a swoon. 
 
 By whom had she been saved ? 
 
 Into what hands had she fallen ? 
 
 Had she found a friend and a protector ? 
 
 Or had she found a foe and a persecutor ? 
 
 These are questions which time alone can answer, but 
 much can be judged from a person's appearance, and so 
 we will take a glance at that of the girl's saviour. 
 
 There is now light enough in the sky for objects to be 
 distinctly and clearly visible. 
 
 Just at the corner of Whitehall he pulled up, and bent 
 down to look at his inanimate burden. 
 
 As he does so, the first thing that strikes the beholder 
 is his immense proportions. 
 
 His height must be close upon, if not quite, six feet. 
 
 His form is well filled out. 
 
 His face large, square, and massive, with angular fea- 
 tures, large, fierce-looking eyes, and deep lines about his 
 mouth, betokening firmness and resolution. 
 
 In accordance with the almost universal fashion of the 
 time, he wore a peruke. 
 
 The plain, three-cornered hat he wore allowed a broad 
 forehead to be visible. 
 
 Then his arms, legs, and body would have befitted Her- 
 cules. 
 
 But yet there was nothing clumsy and ungainly about 
 him. His proportions, although on so large a scale, were 
 perfect. 
 
 His horse was a large, powerful creature, and more 
 to be admired for its strength and endurance than its 
 symmetry. 
 
 But as for the man himself, there was something abont 
 the expression of his countenance that was far from being 
 pleasing. 
 
 Any one could have told at a glance that he was fitted 
 to take the lead in any desperate enterprise. 
 
 Nor did he look like one who would permit any obstacle 
 to stand long in the way, if it interfered at all with his 
 designs.
 
 164 
 
 BLUESfUN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " By heavens ! " he said, in a deep, rough voice, "as 
 pretty a face as ever I have seen ! Beautiful ! Who is 
 she, I wonder? and how shall I restore her to her senses ? 
 Well made she is, too," he continued, as his eyes roamed 
 over her person ; " what a beautiful hand ! I love her 
 already ! I will take her where she can be attended to. 
 Ha! what is that ? " 
 
 For the first time, he noticed that blood was flowing 
 from her in many places. 
 
 "Is she dead?" ho asked; "why the villains have 
 wounded her ! What did it mean, I wonder ? 1 will be 
 off with her at once, or may be I shall now be too lato to 
 save her." 
 
 Thus speaking, he made his way at an easy canter along 
 Pall-mall to St. James's-street. 
 
 At the door of one of these houses he paused. 
 
 It was au imposing, aristocratic-looking edifice, and 
 such as any nobleman might be proud of as a home. 
 
 His return seemed to have been expected by some one, 
 for as soon as his horse was brought to a standstill, the 
 door of the house was opened. 
 
 A man came forth. 
 
 He was dressed like a gentleman's servant, out of livery, 
 but somehow he did not look to have either the face or 
 form of one. 
 
 " Fennell ! " cried the man on horseback. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Send Waldron to hold the horse, and call Mrs. 
 Lovat." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 The man who had been called Fennell re-entered the 
 house. 
 
 A moment afterwards another emerged, who took the 
 horse by the bridle. 
 
 Making nothing of his burden, and holding it in his 
 arms, the unknown dismounted with ease, and strode into 
 the house. 
 
 The door was closed behind him. 
 
 Hurriedly crossing a large hall, ho kicked open a door, 
 and entered a room furnished in the most luxurious fashion 
 conceivable. 
 
 A large bright fire was burniug in the grate, while on 
 the table was laid a slight repast. 
 
 The shutters were closed, and the curtains drawn, so 
 that no trace of the faint daylight entered. 
 
 A candelabra standing in the centre of the table, and 
 carrying about a dozen wax candles, brilliantly illuminated 
 the apartment. 
 
 Near the window was a large couch, made after the 
 capacious and comfortable fashion of our ancestors. 
 
 With more care and gentleness than one would have 
 thought such a huge specimen of humanity possessed, Hie 
 unknown laid Edgworth Bess upon it. 
 
 As he did so, she uttered a faint moan. 
 
 Just then some one tapped gently at the open door. 
 
 " Come in, Mrs. Lovat." 
 
 In obedience to this command, a thin, plain-looking 
 woman, apparently fifty years of age, entered. 
 
 "Attend to her," said the unknown, in the manner of 
 one used to commanding others. " You will know best 
 what to do. If necessary, send for a surgeon." 
 
 This said, he at once left the room without vouchsafing 
 the woman the least explanation. 
 
 But she was used to his ways. 
 
 The first thing she did was to make an examination of 
 her charge. 
 
 Her pale and marble-like face attracted her attention 
 for a moment, but it was quickly diverted to her body, 
 from which the blood in many places was oozing slowly. 
 
 But the alarm she first felt was quickly dissipated, 
 for she found the hurts to be all of a very superficial 
 character. 
 
 She had her then carried upstairs into a bed-chamber, 
 where her first care was to arouse her from her swoon, 
 and then to wash and dress her wounds. 
 
 No words can depict the poor girl's astonishment upon 
 opening her eyes. 
 
 She did so with a shudder, for she feared to see around 
 her the fierce faces of the Mohawks. 
 
 Instead of that, however, she found herself environed by 
 luxury, such luxury as she had never seen, perhaps even 
 ever dreamed of. 
 
 But it was in vain she asked for some explanation ; the 
 woman, Mrs. Lovat, persisted in remaining silent. 
 
 Wearied out at length, Edgworth Bess fell into a deep 
 slumber. 
 
 It was an unrefreshing sleep, and haunted by terrible 
 dreams. 
 
 How long it lasted she knew not, but it must have been 
 many hours. 
 
 When she awoke and looked around, she found herself 
 alone. 
 
 The pain from her wounds bad sensibly abated. 
 
 But she could tell she was fearfully weak. It was only 
 by making a great effort that she could raise her hand. 
 
 The windows in the chamber were facing her. 
 
 They were covered with thick curtains, and through 
 them penetrated a very faint, subdued light. 
 
 Wondering whether it was morning or evening, she was 
 startled by a slight sound. 
 
 She turned her head in the direction from which it 
 came, and saw the man who had rescued her from her 
 great peril enter, and approach the bedside. 
 
 CHAPTER CXIII. 
 
 Kill, WORTH BESS, WITHOUT DUE CAUSE, FORMS A BAD 
 OPINION OF COLONEL TIIORNE. 
 
 It would seem that he had expected to find her sleeping, 
 for when he saw tier large, full eyes fixed upon him, he 
 gave a start, and a partial air of confusion was visible in 
 his manner. 
 
 And now, it must be borne in mind that Edgworth 
 Bess did not catch the most transient glimpse of her 
 preserver's face. She saw he was a man, and that was 
 all. 
 
 So, with suspense and alarm struggling in her mind, 
 she gazed upon the intruder. 
 
 The first sight she caught of his countenance repelled 
 her. 
 
 Why it was she knew not. 
 
 As the poet says— 
 
 " Ye who know the reason, tell me, 
 
 How it is that instinct still, 
 Prompts the heart to like, or like not, 
 
 At its own capricious will ? 
 
 Tell me by what hidden magic, 
 
 ( )ur impressions first are led 
 Into liking, or disliking, 
 
 (Jit before a word be said. 
 
 Is it instinct, or some spirit, 
 
 Which protects us, and controls 
 Every impulse we inherit 
 
 By some sympathy of souls ? 
 
 Is it instinct ? is it nature ? 
 
 Or some freak or fault of chance, 
 Which our liking, or disliking, 
 
 Limits to a single glance ? " 
 
 IJe the power what it may, it unquestionably exists, and 
 Edgworth Bess felt in a moment that she was looking 
 upon one who would prove no friend of hers. 
 
 But on the other side quite a different feeling took 
 place. 
 
 As the unknown gazed upon the face of her whom he 
 had saved, and saw how very fair and beautiful it was, a 
 wild and passionate love sprang up in his bosom. 
 
 Finding ho did not speak, Edgworth Bess commanded 
 her voice sufficiently to do so, though the effort was almost 
 beyond her strength. 
 
 " Is this your house ?" she asked. 
 
 The stranger bowed as he replied — 
 
 " It is." 
 
 "for what reason, then, am 1 brought here?" 
 
 " Is it possible you cannot guess ?" 
 
 " 1 cannot." 
 
 " Think back a little, then. What is the last thing you 
 can recollect ? " 
 
 Bess was silent a moment, during which she was en- 
 deavouring to separate what had really happened from the 
 occurrences she had dreamed. 
 
 " I remember," she replied, slowly, " that I was hunted 
 through the streets by a number of men — by their dress, 
 gentlemen. They caught me near St. Clement's Churcb r 
 and tried to murder me."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 165 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " I felt almost dying, when I heard a horse's hoofs upon 
 the road, and then some one dashed among my persecutors, 
 lifted me on to his horse, and then—then" 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " I remember no more until I awoke, and found myself 
 here." 
 
 " Is it possible you do not remember who rescued 
 
 you ? " 
 
 " I never saw him. 
 " Never saw him ? " 
 
 " No, a mist was before my eyes. I saw some one, but 
 who I have not the slightest idea." 
 " It is strange. Did you hear his voice ? " 
 " I did not notice it. But why do you ask so many 
 questions ? " 
 
 " Simply because " 
 
 "What?" 
 " It was myself." 
 
 To say that Edgworth Bess did not anticipate this 
 avowal would not be true. She dreaded, yet hoped she 
 should not hear it. 
 
 In spite of her attempt to suppress it, a shudder of 
 loathing passed over her. 
 
 But it was so slight that the unknown did not notice it. 
 " It was myself," he said. " By chance I was riding 
 down Fleet-street, when just as I passed under Temple- 
 bar, I heard a succession of screams. My first impulse 
 was to ride at full speed to see what was amiss. I saw 
 you surrounded by a gang of ruffians. I dispersed them ! 
 Carried you off in safety ! Found you bleeding and 
 insensible ! Had no idea where you lived, and brought 
 you here ! " 
 
 All that he said was reasonable enough, but yet, for the 
 life of her, Bess could not find words wherewith to thank 
 him. 
 
 And yet there was nothing in his conduct with which 
 she could have found fault. Under the circumstances, 
 no one could have acted otherwise. 
 
 But in the face of this there was the strong feeling of 
 misliking which she had experienced when first her eyes 
 had rested upon his countenance. 
 This feeling she strove to combat. 
 
 " You must forgive me," she said, " for not remembering 
 you. It was ungrateful of me." 
 
 " Nay, nay. I can easily understand" 
 
 " And if I do not express my thanks to you for the great 
 service and kindness you have rendered me in the manner 
 that I ought, it is because I am unwell." 
 
 " I am sure you must be. Remain here, however, in 
 peace until you feel yourself well enough to move. You 
 must pardon my intrusion, but I fancied you still slept. I 
 wished to assure myself that you were well, yet would not 
 for the world have disturbed you." 
 
 " You did not disturb me," replied Bess ; " I was 
 awake, and wondering how I came here. Now I am at 
 rest." 
 
 " It pleases me to hear you say as much, and now, be- 
 fore I leave you, there is one question I wish to ask of 
 you." 
 
 " What is it, sir ? " 
 
 " I cannot but think that there must be those who are 
 in deep trouble respecting your disappearance. Where 
 is your home ? " 
 
 Bess burst into tears. 
 
 The stranger looked vexed. 
 
 " What have I said to distress you ? " he asked. 
 
 " I have no home ! " 
 
 " No home ?" 
 
 " No ; but there is one who will be full of anxiety to 
 
 know where I am. His — his" 
 
 " Where shall I find him ? " 
 " Will you assure him of my safety ? " 
 " With your permission, yes." 
 
 " Thanks, sir ! I shall never be able to repay you." 
 " Do not talk of that. Who am I to tell that you are 
 safe ? " 
 "Jack" 
 " Jack what ? " 
 " Jack Sheppard ! " 
 
 "Jack Sheppard!" caid the unknown, repeating the 
 name several times, " and where does he live r " 
 
 " You will find him at a public-house in Drury-lane, 
 called the ' Black Lion,' and kept by a man named John- 
 
 son. If he — that is, Jack — is not there, leave word, and 
 that will be enough." 
 
 " I will do it." 
 
 " Thanks ! thanks ! " 
 
 " I will send a messenger there at once. Is there any- 
 thing more ? Do not be afraid to speak." 
 
 " There is nothing more." 
 
 " I will go, then. Mrs. Lovat will attend to you. Good 
 night." 
 
 " Good night, sir," said Bess, " if night it is." 
 
 " Yes, it is night." 
 
 " How long, then, have I slept ? " 
 
 " More than twelve hours." 
 
 " More than twelve hours ! Oh ! sir, add still more to 
 the obligation I am under to you by sending at once to 
 Drury-lane." 
 
 " I will, you may depend upon it." 
 
 The unknown then retired. 
 
 A vague, uncertain dread of something wrong pressed 
 upon Bess's spirits. 
 
 Yet every consideration was shown her. 
 
 She had met with nothing but fairness and kindness. 
 
 Over and over again did she reproach herself for having 
 such feelings. 
 
 But she could not master them. If for a time she 
 succeeded in driving them back, they only returned 
 directly afterwards with double force. 
 
 It struck her as being rather strange* that he had never 
 asked her name, nor communicated his own. 
 
 That, however, might be only a natural omission. 
 
 And so, without any new incident, the night wore away. 
 
 It was not until the middle of the day following that 
 her preserver entered. 
 
 Bess was wonderfully better ; indeed, she felt well 
 enough to rise and dress, but was dissuaded from doing 
 so by Mrs. Lovat. 
 
 There was no misunderstanding the eager inquiring 
 look which she gave the stranger as he entered. 
 
 " I have sent," he said. 
 
 " Yes— yes ! " 
 
 " But the person you inquired for was not there." 
 
 " But you left the message ? " 
 
 "My man did." 
 
 " That is right, then." 
 
 " And now," said the stranger, " I hope you will listen 
 to me, and be not offended with what I say." 
 
 " I could not be so ungrateful to you." 
 
 " Make, then, this house your home until such time as 
 you feel yourself sufficiently recovered to leave it. Do not 
 hesitate, I beg. You will still receive the same treatment 
 as you have done hitherto." 
 
 " Accept my thanks, sir ; but I think I shall be well 
 enough to leave in the course of an hour or so. I should 
 have risen this morning, only Mrs. Lovat expressly desired 
 me not to do so." 
 
 " And she is right. Do not think of moving yet. Is 
 there anything more that I can do for you ? I hope you 
 will excuse me making the remark, but ever since I saw 
 you I have felt the greatest possible interest in you. This 
 house is mine. My name is Thome. Generally known 
 as Colonel Thome, though I am not now in the service. 
 I have no friends and relatives of my own, and that will 
 explain in a great measure the interest I feel in you." 
 
 This speech was a kind enough one, and sounded fair 
 enough, but yet Bess could not divest herself of the idea 
 that there was something more than could be seen at a 
 first glance in this fairness and kindness. 
 
 The speech, too, was one which having contained a con- 
 fidence, ought to receive one in return, and so she said — 
 
 " I must again thank you, sir, for all that you have said 
 and done. I am a poor girl — an orphan — with but one 
 friend in the world — the one to whom I sent a message. 
 I ,have to work hard for a livelihood, and my occupation is 
 thit of a shroud-maker. 
 
 CHAPTER CXIV. 
 
 COLONEL THOUNE BEGINS TO SHOW THE CLOVEN TOOT, 
 AND EDGWOKTH BESS'S WORST SUSPICIONS ARE FULLY 
 REALIZED. 
 
 Colonel Thorne will, for the next few pages, play 
 rather a prominent part in this narrative, and so we wili 
 devote a few lines to him especially. 
 
 Firstly, then, as he had said, the palatial-looking resi-
 
 166 
 
 BLCESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 dence in St. James's-street was his, or rather, he occu- 
 pied it. 
 
 Throughout it was furnished in a most luxurious and 
 expensive style. 
 
 Among a certain set in London, there were few better 
 known than Colonel Thorne, though fiom what source 
 his income was derived, or in what regiment he had held 
 a colonelcy was an inscrutable mystery. 
 
 But that he had abundant pecuniary resources was 
 manifest to everybody who came in contact with him, for 
 he spent money with a freedom and a lavishness that was 
 utterly astounding. 
 
 It was, however, tolerably notorious among his friends 
 that he had a very pretty residential estate, situated upon 
 the cliffs, not far from Dover, and this place was at once 
 the envy and admiration of all who saw it. 
 
 Here he passed a great deal of his time, being frequently 
 absent from London months together. 
 
 During his stay, too, in this place, which was known as 
 " The Larches," from the great quantity of those deci- 
 duous trees growing upon the estate, he lived in the 
 strictest privacy, permitting no visitors to see him, or, in 
 modern parlance, being " at home " to no one. 
 
 There were occasions, however, when he would throw 
 ; i place, and send invitations to his friends, but 
 vc.j rarely. 
 
 Still, the reputation of what he possessed was spread 
 about. 
 
 The only point upon which public curiosity was unsatis- 
 fied, was his source of revenue. 
 
 He was known, while in London, to gamble a great 
 deal, and some hinted that it was by this dishonourable 
 means that he procured the wherewith to support him in 
 his extravagances. 
 
 But there was a mystery about Colonel Thorne, and 
 what that mystery was the reader will not be long in 
 discovering. 
 
 Soon after the interview was over, and he left her, Bess 
 determined to rise. 
 
 It was not that she felt so very well, though her wounds 
 did not give her so much inconvenience as one would have 
 thought, but she was full of anxiety to know where Jack 
 was, and whether he had got free from the clutches of 
 Jonathan Wild, for the reader will remember that when 
 she saw him last he was a prisoner in Wild's hands. 
 
 Whether he had succeeded in getting free, whether he 
 had been murdered by the villainous thief-taker, or whether 
 he still languished a captive in his cells, she knew not, 
 and had no means of ascertaining. 
 
 The intelligence that he was not at the " Black Lion " 
 made her uneasy, but not very so. She knew that, in all 
 probability, he would be denied to a stranger. 
 
 So she resolved to dress herself and proceed at once to 
 Drury-lane, where she would be sure of finding a home, 
 and also hearing the worst that had happened. 
 
 In pursuance, then, of this determination, she attired 
 herself. 
 
 Whenever she moved she was in considerable pain, but 
 the hurts she had received were scarcely more than skin- 
 deep, for the corset which she wore protected her in a 
 great measure. 
 
 More than once she had to rest, but at last the operation 
 of dressing was completed. 
 
 Her clothing was in a sad condition, but she did not 
 care for that. 
 
 And now she felt that, great as was her dislike to 
 Colonel Thorne, she could not leave him without informing 
 him of her intention of doing so, and again thanking him 
 for the trouble he had taken, and the kind manner in 
 which he had behaved. 
 
 There was a little silver hand-bell that stood upon a 
 small table near the bedside, and this, after some hesita- 
 tion, she ventured to ring. 
 
 The summons was immediately obeyed by Mrs. Lovat, 
 who expressed, in very audible terms, her disapprobation 
 of the step which the young girl had taken. 
 
 But she evinced the utmost alacrity to inform Colonel 
 Thorne of her wish to leave the house. 
 
 The bed-chamber in which Bess had been placed had 
 but one door, and that door opened into another apart- 
 ment fitted up as a sitting-room. 
 
 When Mrs. Lovat departed, she shut the first door, and^ 
 crossing the sitting-room, closed the door of that which 
 
 led into the passage, cautiously and silently turning the 
 key in the lock. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was a prisoner ! 
 
 It was some time, however, before she made this dis- 
 covery. 
 
 However, as minute after minute passed away, and she 
 heard no signs of the colonel's approach, she grew impa- 
 tient, and, rising from the easy chair in which she had 
 been sitting, she went to the door, and, opening it, passed 
 into the sitting-room. 
 
 It was the first time she had seen the interior of this 
 apartment, and she was, for more than a minute, abso- 
 lutely amazed at its magnificence. 
 
 No description in nuy fairy tale which she had read, 
 nor idea which she had formed, at all came up to it. 
 
 For a little while, then, and almost unconscious of what 
 she was about, Edgworth Bess stood just upon the thres- 
 hold of this room, admiring its rich and varied contents. 
 
 It was some time before she saw the door. All must 
 have noticed what a blemish a door is to a room, and the 
 owner of the house had exhibited considerable ingenuity 
 in remedying the defect. 
 
 Round all four sides, and reaching to within about three 
 feet of the ceiling, was a beautifully carved wainscot, com- 
 posed of the finest Spanish mahogany, at that time a 
 scarcer, and consequently more expensive, wood than it 
 is at the present day. 
 
 This wainscot was formed into panels, each about two- 
 and-a-half feet in width, by rather more than six feet in 
 height. 
 
 In every one of these panels was painted a grand his- 
 torical portrait, the persons selected being those most cele- 
 brated in English history. 
 
 The frames to these pictures consisted of an elaborately 
 carved border, cut in the wainscot. 
 
 As the apartment was of considerable size, the effect 
 was very grand. 
 
 The harmony of the whole was unbroken — no door was 
 visible. 
 
 Had there have been, all would have been spoiled. 
 
 Of course the reader comprehends that one of these 
 panels formed the door — or rather that the door was 
 painted to imitate the panels — but this was not apparent 
 at a first glance. 
 
 On the door was painted a beautiful full-length portrait 
 of Lady Jane Grey. 
 
 It was so arranged that the part in the deepest shadow 
 should be where the handle of the door was fixed, and the 
 better to escape observation, this was small, and made of 
 dark wood to match the colouring of the picture. 
 
 Bess probably would have been some time in discover- 
 ing this had she not noticed that the door leading to the 
 bedroom was painted to imitate the panels, with a handle 
 of the kind described wherewith to open it. 
 
 This gave her the clue, and, after a very little searching, 
 she found the one leading into the passage. 
 
 She turned the knob in the same way that the other 
 turned, but the door remained fast. 
 
 She could scarcely believe at first that she had been 
 locked in, but she found that such was really the case. 
 
 She was a prisoner. 
 
 In a moment the apartment which she had so much ad- 
 mired, and of which she had felt certain she never could 
 grow tired, lost all its charms. It became suddenly dis- 
 tasteful to her sight, and she longed for nothing so much 
 as to leave it. 
 
 She made a vain attempt to force the door, but it was 
 too strong, and would have resisted thrice her strength. 
 
 Bursting into tears, she sank upon her seat. 
 
 Why was she made prisoner ? 
 
 What fresh ill was there in store for her ? 
 
 The forebodings which she had felt were now approach- 
 ing a realization. 
 
 Suddenly she thought of the windows. 
 
 An invincible desire to get free from that house took 
 possession of her. 
 
 The windows she thought might not be fast, and she 
 might get out that way. 
 
 Those in the sitting-room were too high for her to 
 reach. 
 
 She ran to the bedroom. 
 
 Breathlessly she pushed back the fastener, and strove to 
 raise the sash. 
 
 Alas!
 
 (_ 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 167 
 
 It remained firm as a rock. Either it had been nailed 
 up, or never made to open. 
 
 It was while she was thus engaged, that she heard a 
 faint clicking sound in the outer room. 
 
 She ran to it instantly. 
 
 "Mrs. Lovat tells me you wish to leave here," said a 
 voice, and Colonel Thome stepped into the room and 
 closed the door. 
 
 Poor Bess ! 
 
 Her heart seemed to stand still. 
 
 All the blood seemed to forsake her body and congregate 
 about her heart. 
 
 " You will excuse me for saying so," continued Colonel 
 Thome, calmly, " but I hardly think you will be acting 
 prudently by leaving here so soon. Your face is ashy 
 pale, and you look much worse than you did yesterday 
 even." 
 
 " Thank you," gasped Bess, faintly ; " but I would 
 rather go. I cannot stay here, indeed I cannot. It will 
 do me more harm to stay than go." 
 
 " You are mistress here," said the colonel, " and quite 
 free to go whenever you may think proper." 
 
 Edgworth Bess felt the question rise to her tongue — ■ 
 
 " Then why was the door locked upon me ? " but she 
 thought it might be best policy not to give it utterance, 
 but take him at his word. 
 
 " Let me go, then, sir," she said. " Let me go at once ; 
 and, if the prayers and good wishes of a poor girl can do 
 you any service, I am sure you shall have them. I am 
 sorry I have nothing better to offer you — nothing more 
 worthy of your acceptance." 
 
 CHAPTER CXV. 
 
 THE COLONEL SHOWS HIMSELF AT LAST IN HIS TRUE 
 COLOURS, BUT NOT UNTIL HE HAS SUCCEEDED IN HIS 
 DESIGNS. 
 
 " You must excuse me, my dear girl," said Colonel Thome, 
 advancing a few steps, and taking Edgworth Bess by the 
 hand. " You must excuse me if I ask you to do me the 
 favour not to go just this moment, but sit down, for I wish 
 to speak to you, and seriously, for a little while before we 
 part." 
 
 There was something so kind — so paternal about this 
 speech — or rather about the way in which it was spoken, 
 that Edgworth Bess felt all her suspicions and presages of 
 ill almost entirely vanish. 
 
 She forgot the locked door, and all that was equivocal 
 in the colonel's behaviour, and replied — 
 
 " I cannot refuse you, sir, having done so much for me 
 as you have, but I hope you will not be offended if I ask 
 you to be no longer than you can help, and let me go as 
 soon as you are able." 
 
 " I make that promise freely," said the Colonel, leading 
 Bess to a chair, in which she seated herself. 
 
 Then, drawing another close to it, he himself sat down. 
 
 There was a silence for about a moment. 
 
 " I hardly know how to frame my words," he began, at 
 length, " but, from the moment that I first saw your face, 
 I loved you, and every time that I have seen you since 
 has only bad the effect of increasing my passion. You 
 tell me you are alone in the world, and have to work 
 hard to procure a scanty and uncertain subsistence. Now 
 I am rich, am in a position to gratify your every desire, 
 maintain you in a state that many princesses even would 
 envy. In short, if you will accept it, I offer you my pro- 
 tection, and " 
 
 So far, Edgworth Bess listened in silence, she would 
 have spoken before, but she found it impossible. Sud- 
 denly starting to her feet, she said — 
 
 " You have mistaken me, sir ! I am poor — I am friend- 
 less — I am alone in the world ! But I am honest, 
 and I take the words you have just row spoken as vlie 
 greatest insult you could possibly offer me ! For your 
 kindness in rescuing me from death, and taking such care 
 of me, believe me I am very very grateful and shall 
 always be so ! But you are mistaken in me ! " 
 
 Colonel Thome saw that he had made a false move — 
 that he had allowed his purpose to be seen too plainly, 
 but he by no means considered the mischief done as 
 irreparable. 
 
 In saying that he had fallen violently in love with Bess, 
 he only told the truth. Her face, her voice, her manner, 
 all charmed him, and he loved her as all such natures as 
 
 his do love. He was a man of fierce passions and unlimi- 
 ted means, so that it was very rarely that he failed in 
 accomplishing his purpose. 
 
 Few men could be found better actors than he was. 
 The bearing he had assumed towards Bess was as foreign 
 and totally opposed to his ordinary manner as winter is 
 to summer, and yet so well did he do it that it would 
 have deceived or imposed upon more suspicious natures 
 than hers. 
 
 Poor girl ! She was like a bird in the snare of the 
 fowler. Fluttering awhile, and then 
 
 Bursting with rage as the colonel was, he allowed no 
 indication of it to be visible. Indeed, he was perfectly 
 calm and unruffled, with the exception of the idr of vexa- 
 tion and contrition which he assumed. 
 
 He, too, rose to his feet. 
 
 " Pray forgive me," he said, " for what I hare done ! 
 Take me back, if you can, into your good opinion. Make 
 what excuse you can. All I can say is, that I was led 
 away by the influence of your beauty. Had you not 
 wished to depart so precipitately, I should not have spoken 
 as I did, and if heartfelt sorrow will atone for what I 
 have done, I tender it here." 
 
 The earnest and respectful manner in which these words 
 were uttered is perfectly indescribable. 
 
 Need we say that Edgworth Bess, unused to the ways 
 of the world as she was, freely forgave him for his 
 offence ? 
 
 " If you wish me to retain always a good opinion of 
 you," she said, " if you wish me always to look up to you 
 as my protector, you will suffer me to depart at once." 
 
 " Then I will do so," said the colonel. " You are quite 
 free to go this very moment, if you think proper. It is 
 only because I love you as I have never yet loved, that I 
 am able to do this, but I feel that your happiness is my 
 own. Therefore go. But as we are about to part, pro- 
 bably never to encounter each other again in life, take 
 with you the assurance that there is one who loves you — 
 that there is one who will wish that your life may be a 
 truly happy one, and, whenever he has the opportunity, 
 will do all that lies in his power to make it so." 
 
 Edgworth Bess was touched. 
 
 Her heart fluttered. 
 
 She believed what she had heard uttered with so much 
 fervent earnestness, was the genuine sentiments of the 
 man who gave them utterance. 
 
 But she shook off the feeling slightly, and then she 
 thought of Jack, and she shook it off altogether. 
 
 " You will always have my respect and gratitude," she 
 said. " But we must part. It will be best for both to do 
 so. Farewell ! " 
 
 Colonel Thome had bowed his head, but all the time he 
 was looking furtively at her. He saw she was deter- 
 mined. 
 
 " Farewell ! " he said, in a voice broken with emotion, 
 and holding out his hand as he spoke. " Farewell ! " 
 
 Timidly, Edgworth Bess placed her hand in his. 
 
 She felt that it trembled, and was vexed, yet could not 
 help it. 
 
 Gentleness and devotion will ever touch a woman's 
 heart. 
 
 " Good-bye," she said. 
 
 "Before we part," said the colonel, taking her hand 
 between both of his own, " tell me your name. I have 
 never heard it yet, and I should like to have a name by 
 which I could remember you. Tell it to me. What 
 is it ? " 
 
 " Elizabeth." 
 
 " A queenly name ! Am I to remember you by that 
 alone ? 
 
 " My other name is Donmull." 
 
 " Then, Elizabeth Donmull, as I shall remember you do 
 you remember me. There is one old English custom 
 which I have always admired, and I should like to keep 
 it now. I am fond of old customs ; they seem to carry us 
 back into the past, and bring us into close communion with 
 our ancestors. Will you favour me, or humour me, which- 
 ever you may choose to call it, by complying with this 
 custom." 
 
 " What is it, sir ? " 
 
 " A very simple one. To drink with me." 
 
 " Drink with you ?" ~ 
 
 " Yes, do not be astonished. I will pour out a glass of 
 wine. Do you give me your good wishas, and drink of the
 
 m jigTO— - ■■ 
 
 i68 
 
 BLtJESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 contents. Then hand the cup to me, and I will give you 
 my good wishes, and drain the goblet to the dregs ! " 
 " It is a strange request." 
 " Why so ? " 
 " It seems so." 
 
 " I will not press it on you if it be against your inclina- 
 tion, but if you will do as I wish you, you will make me 
 very happy." 
 
 When the wine was mentioned, Edgworth Bess thought 
 of the locked door and the colonel's infamous proposal, and 
 she dreaded some villainy ; but when she saw he did not 
 press it on her, and that he would drink from the same glass, 
 she discarded her suspicions as unworthy and unfounded. 
 
 " I shall be only too glad," she said, " to do anything 
 in my power to make you happy." 
 
 A flash seemed to come from the colonel's eyes, but it 
 went again almost quicker than it appeared, and he was 
 cool fi"d n 'llected as before. 
 
 He \ ud to a side table, on which were some dried 
 
 fruits, and several decanters containing wine and spirits. 
 One of these he took. 
 By its colour it seemed to be sherry. 
 Then, from the same place, he took a silver goblet that 
 would, perhaps, hold nearly three-quarters of a pint. 
 
 This he placed on a silver salver, and brought it to the 
 table iu the centre of the room. 
 
 Edgworth Bess watched him narrowly. There might 
 be no harm or treachery intended ; still, it would be best 
 to be prepared. 
 
 The colonel placed the decanter, and the salver with the 
 cup upon it, side by side. 
 
 " I am sorry to detain you, but it will not last long. 
 There is one portion of the custom of which I have not 
 yet spoken." 
 
 "What is that, then?" asked Bess, all her doubts 
 springing up with fresh force. 
 
 " It is very simple, and need not, that I know of, be 
 adhered to. That you shall please yourself about. It is 
 that you should pour tbe wine from the decanter into the 
 goblet, and that I should hand you the salver." 
 
 Again were her doubts and fears dispelled, and this 
 
 time she felt angry with herself for having indulged in them. 
 
 Alas ! poor inexperienced heart, she did not know that 
 
 this was all the result of careful calculation, and done in 
 
 order to throw her completely off her guard. 
 
 " Willingly," she said, and she took out tho massive 
 stopper from the mouth of the decanter, and lifting it up, 
 poured some of the contents into the cup. 
 She was satisfied all was well. 
 
 Could she but have seen the colonel's face at that 
 moment, how suddenly she would have altered her opinion. 
 It was contorted by a demoniac mocking smile, such as 
 one might imagine to appear upon the countenance of the 
 Evil One upon seeing a human soul about to fall into his 
 hands. 
 
 The decanter had a very slender neck, and it took some 
 little time to fill the cup. 
 
 At length the amber-coloured fluid reached the brim. 
 Its sm-face was diversified with a few crystalline beads. 
 Colonel Thorne took the salver, and held the goblet to 
 her. 
 
 " Drink," he said. " It is the real Amontillado, and 
 will do you good." 
 
 Edgworth Bess took the proffered draught. 
 She murmured a few words, the import of which the 
 colonel did not care to catch. 
 
 Then she raised the goblet to her lips, and drank a 
 email portion of the contents. 
 Then she handed it back. 
 The colonel held it in his right hand. 
 " I ought, first of all," he said, " to thank you for your 
 ready compliance with my strange whim. I do so. And 
 then I have before me the far more pleasing task of wish- 
 ing you every possible happiness which this world can 
 afford. May you" 
 
 CHAPTER CXVI. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS IS THREATENED WITH WORSE DANGER 
 FROM COLONEL THORNE THAN WITH THE MOHAWKS. 
 
 The Colonel abruptly ceased, and placed the goblet of wine 
 untasted on the table. 
 
 The hypocritic wish he was about to utter was arrested 
 on his lips. 
 
 Thei-e was no need for it. 
 
 A strange shudder swept over Edgworth Bess. 
 
 She tried to speak. 
 
 She tried to move. 
 
 But she failed in both these attempts. 
 
 Despite herself, her eyes closed, her limbs gave way 
 beneath her, and she would have sunk to the ground hail 
 it not been that the colonel sprang forward, and caught 
 her in his arms. 
 
 Fervently he pressed her to his breast, and rained kisses 
 upon her lips, cheeks, eyes, and forehead. 
 
 But mastering himself by a great effort, he laid her on 
 a couch. 
 
 Then, going to the wall, he pressed upon a knob, which 
 rang a bell. 
 
 It was instantly obe3 r ed by some one tapping at the 
 door. 
 
 It was the man who had first come out to receive him 
 when he arrived, and whom he addressed by the name 
 of Fennell. 
 
 There was a strange mixture of familiarity and deference 
 in this man's manner. 
 
 " Is the carriage ready ? " 
 
 " Waiting, sir." 
 
 " Good ! be ready to start at a moment's notice. Send 
 Mrs. Lovat." 
 
 Fennell disappeared. 
 
 Colonel Thorne waited impatiently until she came. 
 
 An anxious troubled look was on his face, from which it 
 might be inferred that he had other matters pressing 
 heavily upon his mind than any connected with the poor 
 girl, of whom he had taken so dastardly an advantage. 
 
 But the time has not yet arrived, though it is very close 
 at hand, for us to make full disclosures respecting this 
 extraordinary individual. 
 
 At length Mrs. Lovat knocked upon the panel of the 
 door, and received permission to enter. 
 
 " All is well," said the Colonel. " Have the cloak 
 ready." 
 
 " It is here," said Mrs. Lovat, holding up a very large 
 military cloak, which she had carried over her arm. 
 
 " That is well." 
 
 " Are you sure that she is all right ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! Had she drank only half as much as she 
 did, it would have been sufficient for my purpose." 
 
 " Do you start now, sir ? ' ' 
 
 " Yes, at once. Bui it is late, is it not ? " 
 
 " Early, sir." 
 
 The colonel consulted his watch. 
 
 " Half-past three," he said. " Never mind, it will be 
 some hours yet to day-break. You place the cloak." 
 
 Colonel Thorne went to the couch upon which he had 
 laid poor Edgworth Bess, and raised her in his arms. 
 
 She was still insensible. 
 
 Iu his hands she was no weight. 
 
 Then, while he held her, Mrs. Lovat carefully wrapped 
 the cloak about her form. 
 
 It enveloped her completely. 
 
 The colonel himself assisted iu folding it round her, 
 leaving only her face uncovered, in order that respiration 
 might not be impeded. 
 
 Then, when this had been done, he took her up in his 
 arms as though she had been a child, and earned her out 
 of the apartment, Mrs. Lovat holding the door open while 
 he did so. 
 
 Across a corridor, and down a spacious staircase with 
 massive carved balusters, and having rare exotic plants 
 placed about it, the colonel went. 
 
 There was no one iu the hall. 
 
 Upon reaching the bottom of the staircase he paused, 
 in order to allow Mrs. Lovat, who was following, to pass 
 him and open the front door. 
 
 This was done. 
 
 A very plain, yet elegant and commodious travelling 
 carriage was drawn close up to the kerb opposite the door. 
 
 Four beautiful horses, whose worth represented as many 
 hundreds of guineas, were harnessed to it. 
 
 Upon seeing the front door open, Fennell, who was 
 seated in the rumble behind, immediately descended and 
 threw open the door of the carriage. 
 
 There was no one in the street at that lonely hour, and 
 the colonel descended the steps in front of his house, 
 crossed the pavement, and entered his carriage unper- 
 ceived by any but his own creatures.
 
 [JONATHAN WILD FIRES AT BLUESKIN ON THE THAMES.] 
 
 Fennell closed the door. Then, mounting the rumble 
 behind, ordered the coachman to drive on. 
 
 Their destination was evidently already known to him, 
 for it was not mentioned, and yet he guided bis horses 
 round the corner of St. James's-street into Pall-mall, 
 and so on until Westminster-bridge was reached and 
 crossed. 
 
 The strong, spirited horses which were harnessed to tbe 
 vehicle dashed onward over the smooth, well-kept road, 
 at an alarming rate. 
 
 At that early hour in the morning it was not likely 
 they would meet or pass many vehicles ; nor did they. 
 
 Down the broad, open Kent-road they went, then 
 bounded on both sides by tall hedgerows, with pleasant 
 meadows beyond — not as now, one continuous line of 
 brick and mortar. 
 
 Poor Edgworth Bess ! She is now in the toils of the 
 destroyer. 
 
 When we chink upon the peril with which she is 
 threatened, and how entirely she is in the power of that 
 
 bold bad man, Colonel Thorne, we fairly tremble and turn 
 sick with apprehension. 
 
 Her death-like trance or swoon still continued. 
 
 The drug which had been dissolved in the wine must 
 have been of a most powerful character, for the poor girl 
 had drank but the smallest possible quantity of it — a 
 tablespoonful at the most — and yet its effects were in- 
 stantaneous and continued. 
 
 She was still enveloped in the ample folds of the cloak, 
 and remained in the same position as that in which she 
 had been placed — namely, in one corner of the carriage. 
 
 The colonel was seated by her. 
 
 His basilisk eyes were fixed upon that portion of her 
 pretty couutenance which the cloak permitted to be 
 visible. 
 
 It was only dimly that he saw it, for the lamp in the 
 interior of the carriage emitted but a feeble light. 
 
 It was enough, though. His imagination served to 
 supply the rest. 
 
 One arm he had around her, without which, or some 
 
 No. 22.
 
 ,'-;& 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 similar support, she could not have retained her position, 
 for, excellent as were the springs beneath the carriage, 
 yet, such was the tremendous speed with which it was 
 whirled along, that it swayed violently to and fro, and 
 occasionally there would be a sudden jilt as some obstruc- 
 tion or other was encountered. 
 
 And now the reader will be pleased to remember that 
 after their singular adventure with the post-chaise, Blue- 
 skin and Jack Sheppard, on their return to London, heard 
 some vehicle approaching them. 
 
 Blueskin wished to stop it, though, when doing so, he 
 did not for a moment anticipate that any particular re- 
 sult besides obtaining additional booty would arise from 
 it. 
 
 As we have related, he very unwillingly allowed himself 
 to be overruled by Jack, and permit the carnage to 
 pass unmolested. 
 
 Accordingly, that they might the better escape observa- 
 tion, they retired into the mouth of the lane. 
 The caniage swept by. 
 
 Edgworth Bess at that moment recovered from the 
 lethargic slumber into which the drugged wine had 
 plunged her. 
 
 Upon finding herself in such rapid motion, and half in 
 the embrace of a man, who in the faint light she did not 
 recognise, she uttered a loud and awful scream of affright 
 and terror. 
 
 That was the sound which had reached the eai's of the 
 two watchers in the lane. 
 
 Alas! Jack did not know that scream came from the 
 lips of the girl he so fondly loved, and who was even then 
 present in his thoughts. 
 
 Little did he dream she was in extreme danger, and 
 within arm's-length of him. 
 
 It is astonishing what great results often follow little 
 causes ; but so it is, and so it always will be. 
 
 Had Jack Sheppard allowed himself to be persuaded by 
 his comrade, he would have brought the carriage to a 
 standstill, and a glance at its interior would have dis- 
 covered Edgworth Bess. 
 
 What, then, would have been more easy than for them 
 to overcome ah such resistance as Colonel Thome might 
 offer, and bear off the poor girl to some safe place of refuge 
 until such measures could be taken as would reinstate her 
 in her possessions. 
 
 Then the whole after-current of his life would have 
 been changed, and all the world of misery and shame and 
 grief have been averted. 
 But fate had decreed it otherwise. 
 Away flew the carriage, and Jack, when it had passed, 
 set out in an opposite direction to search for her. 
 How hopeless and how vain a search ! 
 Even in its very commencement most disastrous, for 
 he had fallen into the power of his arch enemy, Jonathan 
 Wild. _ 
 
 But it is not at present with either him or bis comrade 
 Blueskin that we have to do. For yet a little loDger we 
 will follow the vicissitudinary fortunes of poor Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 Blueskin had remarked that the shriek which had as- 
 sailed their ears sounded as though it had been suddenly 
 and violently suppressed ; and this was exactly the case, 
 for with an oath, Colonel Thome placed his hand over her 
 mouth and stilled it. 
 
 " Silence ! " he said, in a tone of voice so threatening 
 and terrible that Bess felt her heart turn fairly cold, and 
 sink within her ; "silence! Utter such a cry again, and 
 it will be your last. Do you hear me? Will you be 
 silent?" 
 
 He removed his hand a little, in order that she might 
 reply to him. 
 But she was silent. 
 
 " Speak," he cried again ; " give me your word, yoar 
 promise, that you will continue silent, and I will take it. 
 If you do not, you will drive me to such measures as will 
 compel your silence. Answer me, I say ! " 
 
 But had her life then and there have depended upon 
 her uttering a syllable, she could not have uttered it. 
 
 The colonel, perceiving the state of terror she was in, 
 appeared content, and merely muttered some diabolical 
 threat, if she attempted again to scream out for assist- 
 ance. 
 
 St vva.3 jast at this moment that a light flashed across 
 the window of the carriage, and theu the horses stopped. 
 
 The colonel seemed to be perfectly aware of what was 
 taking place. All he did was to look more keenly at his 
 companion. 
 
 There was the trampling of horses' hoofs — the sound of j 
 voices ; but they lasted a moment only, and then the car- 
 riage resumed its former pace. 
 
 The horses had been changed. 
 
 CHAPTER CXVII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS FINDS LITTLE FOOD FOR HOPE IN HER 
 CAPTIVITY. 
 
 Without the occurrence of any incident of special interest 
 deserving of recordation, the carriage containing Colonel 
 Thome and Edgworth Bess reached that residence belong- 
 ing to the former of which we have already spoken, and 
 which was known as " The Larches." 
 
 Evening shadows were gathering round when they 
 arrived. 
 
 Of what kind of place it was to which she was being 
 taken, Edgworth Bess had not the remotest idea, for the 
 colonel kept the carriage-blinds closely drawn down, so 
 that it was not possible for her to obtain a glimpse even of 
 the country through which she passed. 
 
 Ever since the threats to which her persecutor had 
 given utterance, she had remained profoundly silent, 
 shrinking as far back into the corner of the carriage as 
 she was able, and fixing her eyes steadfastly and reproach- 
 fully upon him. 
 
 She was, too, very — very ill. The mere excitement of 
 the scene through which she had so recently passed would 
 be sufficient to induce this, but there was in addition, her 
 weak and wounded state, and the effect which such rapid 
 travelling would be sure to have upon it. 
 
 But most of all, there was the agony of spirit under 
 which she laboured. 
 
 Could she but have been assured of Jack's safety, one- 
 half of the load which weighed so heavily upon her heart 
 would have been removed. In her imagination she pic- 
 tured him a prisoner in the hands of the villainous thief- 
 taker, and the inmate of one of his horrible and gloomy 
 cells. 
 
 Of her own position she scarcely realized the full 
 danger. 
 
 Colonel Thorne sat on the opposite side of the carriage. 
 His head was bent, and his eyes apparently gaziug upon 
 nothing, but all the time, though not seeming to do so, he 
 was watching every movement, and every varying expres- 
 sion of the countenance of his fair prisoner with the 
 utmost closeness. 
 
 At last he knew by the change in the grinding sound 
 which the carriage-wheels produced, that they had passed 
 through the lodge-gates of his estate, and were traversing 
 the broad gravel cai-riage-drive leading up to the front- 
 door of his mansion. 
 
 But of this Edgworth Bess was'herself ignorant. She 
 was too terrified — too ill — and her mind too much occu- 
 pied with gloomy thoughts, to take notice of such trivial 
 circumstances. 
 
 The sudden jerk, however, when the carriage stopped, 
 served to arouse her. 
 
 " We have reached our destination," said Colonel 
 Thome, in his rough, stern voice. " Alight, and make no 
 needless resistance, for it will be quite useless, and, r,t 
 the same time, futile. You will be seen by none but 
 persons in my pay, and who take no notice of my actions. 
 Alight ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the carriage-door was opened by some one 
 who held the handle of it in a deferential manner. 
 
 It was Fennell, 
 
 At the same moment the colonel stretched outhwtwnd, 
 and took hold of Edgworth Bess by the wrist. 
 
 To have opposed her strength to his would have ^een 
 perfectly ridiculous, so, in order to avoid ill-usage, she 
 rose, and suffered herself to be assisted to the ground. 
 
 She took a hasty and terrified glance around her, but 
 nothing met her gaze, save a large mansion close to which 
 she stood, a dark surrounding of tall trees, and the blue 
 sky and stars overhead. 
 
 There was not the slightest sound to indicate tbe 
 presence of human beings. 
 
 A very short opportunity waf u&dttfcA her forperceisriffl
 
 BITTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 in 
 
 even this transient glimpse, and then she was hurried up 
 a broad stone perron, and through a massive door, into a 
 dimly -lighted vestibule. 
 
 " The Larches " was a mansion built somewhat after 
 the picturesque Elizabethan fashion, with large, iron- 
 studded doors ; small windows, with diamond panes ; 
 innumerable gables, and fantastic chimnies. Its elevation 
 was insignificant ; but it rambled over ground enough for 
 half-a-dozen modern commodious dwellings to be built 
 upon its site. 
 
 From this vestibule opened several doors, leading into 
 different corridors and apartments, and from the part 
 furthest from the door ascended a winding staircase. 
 
 Half fainting with dread, terror, exhaustion, and fatigue, 
 poor Edgworth Bess permitted herself to be led across 
 the vestibule and up the staircase. 
 
 A long, long, weary ascent, it seemed, of many hundi-eds 
 of steps ; but that was only her imagination, for the high- 
 est apartment in the whole building — and that was the 
 one under the turret upon which the clock was placed, 
 was not more than thirty feet from the ground. 
 
 At length the colonel stopped before a doo-> — ^a size 
 small, in strength remarkable. 
 
 It opened, however, with a touch. 
 
 The chamber into which it opened was a tolerably spa- 
 cious one. 
 
 It was plainly and scantily furnished. 
 
 In one corner was an antique grate, in which a bright 
 fire was burning, and it was chiefly by its ruddy blaze 
 that the different outlines of the apartment could be 
 defined. 
 
 The colonel seated Edgworth Bess in a tall, high-back 
 chair, at a comfortable distance from the fire, and then he 
 said — 
 
 " At present, this is your residence. Look around you ! 
 There is little pleasing to the eye to be seen. In daylight 
 it is even more wretched. Here, then, you will stay until 
 such time as you are disposed to listen to me. But other 
 matters now call for my immediate attention, and so im- 
 portant are they that nothing can detract me from them. 
 But before I leave, let me impress upon you this — you 
 are utterly in my power ! Attempt not to escape ! Attempt 
 not to ask any one whom you may see to assist you ! The 
 result can only be disappointment ! Farewell !" 
 
 With these words the colonel rose, and left the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 He closed the door behind him. 
 
 Instinctively and mechanically Bess turned towards it. 
 
 She heard a key turned in the lock, and the sharp click- 
 ing sound of the bolt as it shot into the socket. 
 
 She was, indeed, a prisoner. 
 
 And now she sunk into that strange, apathetic state 
 which is sometimes produced by despair. 
 
 The different objects wherewith she was surrounded 
 faded from her view. 
 
 She did not think — seemed scarcely to exist — and had 
 only a dim consciousness of what had happened. 
 
 That the drug she had taken in the wine had a great 
 deal to do with producing the stupifying effect there can 
 be no doubt ; and it was assisted by the combination of 
 all those other circumstances which we have a little while 
 back recapitulated. 
 
 Whether she remained in this state five minutes or five 
 hours she knew not, but she was aroused l>v hearing the 
 door unlocked. 
 
 It was thrown open. 
 
 Upon the threshold appeared a woman of colossal di- 
 mensions. 
 
 With a swaggering stride this female crossed the room, 
 and put her hand upon Bess's shoulder. 
 
 " Get up, miss;" she saiJ, in what sh„, no doubt, in- 
 tended to be a highly conciliatory tone of voice. " Get 
 up, and come into this room." 
 
 " Spare me ! spare me !" said the poor girl. " Let me 
 free ! I beseech you, let me free ! Have mercy upon me, 
 and assist me to leave this hateful place !" 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! you must not speak so ! Tho colonel 
 has commanded me to attend to your every want — treat 
 you with the utmost care, and made me responsible for 
 your safe custody ; and when you know tho colonel as well 
 as I do, you will find it best not to palter with his com- 
 mands! 
 
 "Do not drive me to despair!" said Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Do not drive me to despair ! Assist me to escape, and 
 I will bless you!" 
 
 As she spoke these words, in tones of supplicating an- 
 guish, she sunk down upon her knees, and clasped the 
 woman by the hand. 
 
 " You will save me, will you not ?" she added. " Surely 
 you can feel for my position ! Help me, and save me!" 
 
 The huge female shook her head. 
 
 "You don't know Colonel Thorne! What you ask of 
 me is quite impossible ! I dare not assist you to escape ! 
 I don't want to be unkind to you, but I cannot assist you 
 in any way." 
 
 "Alas! alas!" cried Edgworth Bess, as she let hex 
 head fall between her hands, and burst into tears : " What 
 will become of me ? Jack ! Jack ! Where are you ? You 
 do not know in what peril I am placed, or you would fly 
 to aid and save me!" 
 
 The huge female, although no one would have exactly 
 thought it at first sight, possessed a warm and kindly 
 heart, and compassioned the poor girl who pleaded to her. 
 She endeavoured to utter some words of consolation, but 
 Bess did not need them. 
 
 "How is he to know where I am?" she continued. 
 " I do not even know myself ! And how truly selfish I 
 am ! Even now he may be in greater danger than I am ; 
 and what would he do ? He would not call for assistance, 
 when he saw assistance there was none ; but he would act 
 for himself. And I will do the same." 
 
 Edgworth Bess uttered these words aloud, but she was 
 not conscious that she had done so until the woman 
 said — 
 
 " Let me advise you to abandon all hopes of making 
 your escape from here. It is impossible. Too many pre- 
 cautions have been taken for that, and so I say again, do 
 not indulge in any such hopes, because they cau only end 
 in disappointment. You are weak and weary. I am told 
 you are suffering from many wounds — let me assist you. 
 In the next apartment you will find a bed, and every toi- 
 lette necessary. Come with me." 
 
 Passively Edgworth Bess allowed the woman to take 
 her by the hand and lead her into the adjoining 
 chamber. 
 
 CHAPTER CXVIII. 
 
 COLONEL THORNE APPEARS UNEXPECTEDLY TO EDG- 
 WORTH BESS, AND ATTEMPTS TO BEND IIElt TO HIS 
 PURPOSE. 
 
 With a faint, weary sigh, Edgworth Bess, after a sleep of 
 many hours duration, awoke. 
 
 A dull, roaring sound, to which she was unable to make 
 a comparison, reached her ears. 
 
 What it was she had no idea. 
 
 Never in the whole of her life had she heard anything 
 resembling it. 
 
 It was incessant, but not monotonous. Sometimes it 
 would be as faint as a zephyr's breath, and sometimes it 
 would swell into a sound like thunder. 
 
 Her awakening could not at first strictly be called such, 
 for she was in the same dreamy, trance-like state as she 
 had been upon her arrival. 
 
 But after a time, as she lay there in solitude and silence, 
 she began slowly, and little by little, to regain possession 
 of her faculties. 
 
 In the same proportion as she did so, so did she feel 
 better. 
 
 She raised herself presently upon one arm and gazed 
 about her. 
 
 All was still. There was no person either within sight 
 or hearing. 
 
 Then, with an accession of energy, prompted by the 
 desperate nature of her situation, she rose and dressed 
 herself. 
 
 She was really astonished to find how strong she wa3, 
 and by the time she had plentifully bathed her face with 
 water, and drank copiously of the pure fluid, she felt al- 
 most if not quite well. 
 
 " I will stay here no longer," she said, with that air of 
 resolution which goes so far towards accomplishing an 
 object ; " every moment serves to increase my peril and 
 Jack's uneasiness. I will show myself reliant upon my 
 own powers, and it will go hard with me if I do not get 
 free."
 
 BLUESKIN: a KOMANCE. 
 
 While these thoughts passed through her mind, the 
 poor, persecuted girl occupied herself in making an ex- 
 amination of the bed-chamber. 
 
 There were two doors opening from it. 
 
 One was that through which she had passed, affording 
 the means of communication between the bed-chamber 
 and the outer apartment in which she had first been 
 placed. 
 
 This was the door she determined to try first. 
 
 It opened to her hand, and this she accepted as an omen 
 of future success. 
 
 A small matter will at times make a remarkable and in- 
 conceivable difference in the state of one's mind ; and 
 slight and probable enough as was the circumstance of 
 her finding the door unfastened, yet it was with a more 
 hopeful heart that she opened it and crossed the thres- 
 hold. 
 
 In the outer, or sitting-room, as it might be called, all 
 things presented precisely the same appearance as they 
 had done on the preceding evening when she first saw 
 it. 
 
 With a throbbing heart she hastened to the other door, 
 but this she found secure, and fitting so closely into its 
 setting, that not her whole strength could shake it in the 
 least. 
 
 To a certain extent she was prepared for this ; never- 
 theless she could not control a feeling of disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 Subduing it, however, as much as she was able, she 
 crossed the room in the direction of the windows. 
 
 It will bo remembered that at present she had not 
 looked out of them, and now, when she did so, a cry of 
 surprise, slightly mingled with pleasure, came from her 
 lips. 
 
 Before her, and stretching in every direction as far as 
 her eye could reach, was the sea ! 
 
 Yes, there could be no doubt of that. She had never 
 before gazed upon the ocean ; indeed, from the manner in 
 which she had lived and been brought up, knew little, if 
 anything, about it; but, for all that, she instinctively re- 
 cognized it, and knew what it was. 
 
 The sun was shining with unusual brightness for the 
 dull season of the year, and his beams fell upon the 
 slightly-agitated water like myriads of diamonds. 
 _ The two words which Bess uttered upon this unexpected 
 sight being presented to her view will best describe its 
 character. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " 
 
 And now she gradually comprehended the sound for 
 which she had found herself so completely at a loss to 
 account. 
 
 It was the dashing of the sea against the shore. 
 
 The mansion — for such it was — was one of the largest, 
 and built upon the summit of one of those tall white 
 cliffs which make the shores of England so conspicuous to 
 those approaching them from foreign lands. 
 
 The sea was far below it, more so than it appeared to 
 any one in the position of Edgworth Bess to be, but in 
 reality the cliff was upwards of two hundred feet above 
 the level of the water. 
 
 The constant alteration of the restless tide had worn 
 deep indexations in the chalky rocks, and into these, 
 the waves dashed with great fury, producing the deep 
 hollow, roaring sound. 
 
 For some minutes Edgworth Bess was so enchanted 
 with the scene before her that she lost sight of the pur- 
 pose for which she had in the first instance approached 
 the window. 
 
 But suddenly recollecting herself, she lifted her hand to 
 try the fastenings. 
 
 Ab she did so she was startled by a deep voice at her 
 elbow, which said — 
 
 " It is useless ! " 
 
 Turning round suddenly she saw, standing close beside 
 her, within arm's length, her new and much-to-be-dreaded 
 persecutor, Colonel Thome. 
 
 The absolute terror which his unexpected and inex- 
 plicable appearance produced, made the poor girl for a 
 minute or so speechless and motionless. See could only 
 gaze_ with a horrified stare^upon his stern, implacable- 
 looking countenance. 
 
 The colonel slowly, but significantly shook his head. 
 
 " It is useless ! " he repeated, " utterly useless ! Ton 
 cannot escape. The doors are fast, and so are the winders. 
 You are my prisoner, and wholly in my power ! " 
 
 "And by what right am I your prisoner?" asked 
 Edgworth Bess, recovering herself, and assuming, with 
 difficulty, a manner altogether foreign to her nature. 
 " Answer me. By what right am I your prisoner ? " 
 
 These bold words, and, moreover, the bold manner in 
 which she nttered them, caused her eyes to sparke, her 
 cheeks to flush, and her whole frame to tremble. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 That was the only reply Colonel Thorne made to her 
 question. 
 
 It was a mocking laugh, and, as it came from his lips, 
 he folded his arms, and looked, with a still more ludifi- 
 catory expression, into her countenance. 
 
 But Bess felt firmer. 
 
 The reply she met did not, as might have been expected, 
 dishearten her. 
 
 ".Tell me," she said, " as you are a man, and as I have 
 a right to ask, why am I your prisoner ? By what 
 right ? " 
 
 "The right of power," replied the colonel, in his bass 
 voice, which was not destitute of a peculiar melody of its 
 own. " The right which the strong has over the weak. 
 You are in my hands. I can do with you as I choose, and 
 there is nothing which can or shall step between ne and 
 my desires." 
 
 Bess trembled. 
 
 But ere she could command her voice to speak, the 
 colonel continued — 
 
 " From the first moment that my eyes lighted upon 
 your countenance, I loved you. I do so now, and in that 
 fact discover, if you can, the motive, the mainspring of 
 my conduct. I love you ; not as nine-tenths of those 
 who profess to feel the passion do, but with the ardency of 
 my nature. I say I love you, and where my inclinations 
 are concerned I allow nothing to step in between me and 
 my desires. I am rich — wealthy beyond all your dreams 
 of wealth — and, consequently, possessed of no ordinary 
 amount of power, which I can wield as the humour takes 
 me. You are a prisoner. Secure, beyond even the faint- 
 est chance or probability of escape. Dismiss, therefore, 
 that idea from your mind at once." 
 
 Every sentence which this speech contained, uttered as 
 the whole was with extraordinary force, made Edgworth 
 Bess feel as though a death knell had been struck to all 
 her hopes of freedom. 
 
 The confident manner of the colonel had its full effect. 
 
 " You have heard my avowal," he said. " It remains 
 for you to think it over. You have your choice, either to 
 comply with my wishes, and return my love, or compel me 
 to use force. In the former case you shall be happy. 
 Every want which you can frame shall be supplied almost 
 ere you have given it utterance. I will do my utmost to 
 show the love I bear you. But if, on the other hand- 
 mark me — you know — I need not describe "— 
 
 "You need not," cried Bess, passionately, "you need 
 not. I love another. One who is as different to you as 
 tempest is to calm — one to whom I will prove true under 
 all circumstances, and through all time. The only senti- 
 ment I have for you is loathing and abhorrence. What 
 little good feeling there might have been in my heart for 
 you, your behaviour to me has utterly extinguished, and I 
 would rather die a hundred — nay, a thousand — times, than 
 consent to be the thing you wish to make me." 
 
 The appearance of the poor girl, as she thus spoke, was 
 truly majestical and beautiful. 
 
 But that of the colonel was of the most deadly and un- 
 governable rage. To be thus bearded by a girl was what 
 he would never suffer. He who had been accustomed to 
 see the rudest men bow down before him, and instantly 
 obey his slightest wish. 
 
 "Bash girl'" he cried, his voice almost choked with 
 rage. " You shall repent of this, and when it is too late, 
 you will wish you had treated me with more considera- 
 tion ! You have made your choice, and you must abide 
 by it!" 
 
 An awful scream burst from the lips of Edgworth Bess, 
 as the Colonel, while speaking these last words, suddenly 
 darted forward, and clasped her in Lis arms.
 
 ELtTESKIN: A HOMAXCE. 
 
 173 
 
 CHAPTER CXIX. 
 
 COLONEL THORNE'S CONDUCT BECOMES MYSTERIOUS. 
 
 Vainly did she struggle and implore for succour. In his 
 hands she was but a feather in those of a child, and, alas ! 
 there was none near to hear her cries who would obey her 
 summons for assistance. 
 
 Such a sensation of deadly sickness came over her, tha*- 
 she was deprived of what little strength she had. 
 
 Her head swam round. 
 
 Her eyes dimmed. 
 
 She lost all power of using her voice, and sank upon 
 her kness. 
 
 " Now do you believe you are in my power ! " cried the 
 colonel, hoarsely. " What is there to step in between us ? 
 All your frantic cries have met with no response. All 
 your struggles have only served to show your weakness. 
 But I am unwilling to master you thus. I love you, and 
 would fain win back your love in return. Say, will you 
 give me hope ? " 
 
 " Never ! " 
 
 " Then you shall rue your refusal. I will let you know, 
 girl, that I am ono in command! I have beneath me, 
 and subsistent to my slightest wish, fiercer and more un- 
 tameable spirits than yours. Reflect ! Surely it can need 
 no reflection ! or, if you think so, I will give you a few 
 hours for the consideration of my offer." 
 
 " It is useless." 
 
 Such were the words that rose to the lips of Edgworth 
 Bess, but see took a rapid second thought, and did not 
 utter them. 
 
 If she put him off, she would gain time, and time to 
 her might be life, escape, everything. 
 
 " Leave me, then ! " she said, instead. " Leave me, 
 and I will try to reconcile myself to my lot." 
 
 " Is it possible that you consent ? That you give me 
 room to hope that I may hope to win you for my own ? 
 Ha ! confusion ! curses ! " 
 
 The sudden exclamations that came from the lips of 
 Colonel Thome proceeded apparently from a very simple 
 cause, and, at all events, it would have been thought 
 from one totally inadequate to produce such an effect. 
 
 What was the cause P 
 
 All that Bess heard was a clock strike the hour of three. 
 
 The sound appeared to come from overhead. 
 
 But why should such a seemingly simple and natural 
 occurrence produce the effect it did ? 
 
 She was lost in conjecture. 
 
 She fixed her eyes earnestly upon her persecutor. 
 
 He had released her hands from the hold he had taken 
 of them, and drawn himself up to his full height. 
 
 He stood in the attitude of one who expected to hear 
 more. 
 
 Nor had he long to wait, for again the clock proclaimed 
 the hour of three. 
 
 This was mysterious and remarkable. 
 
 What could it mean ? 
 
 She had thought before, not only from the colonel's 
 manner, but from the time she imagined it was, that the 
 clock had not pealed forth the proper hour. 
 
 And now she could hardly think it was a clock at all, 
 for certainly no clock would strike the same hour twice in 
 succession, and with an interval of about a moment only. 
 
 What could it mean ? 
 
 Again the clock struck. 
 
 The colonel seemed much agitated. 
 
 " I will leave you ! " he said. " I will leave you ! 
 Consider well all that I have said ! Do not allow yourself 
 to be led away by any hopes of getting free! Once 
 for all, and all for once, I tell you it is impossible ! I 
 must leave you now ! " he repeated. " But look, what is 
 that yonder ? " 
 
 He pointed through the window, as he spoke. 
 
 With a natural instinct, Edgworth Bess looked imme- 
 diately in the direction in which he pointed. 
 
 There was nothing but the bright blue sea before her. 
 
 Then she heard the door leading into the room in which 
 Bhe had passed the night shut violently. 
 
 With a boldness, for which no one would have given 
 her credit, she ran across the room, and, turning the 
 handle of the door, opened it, for it was not secured in 
 any way. 
 
 But when she entered the bedroom, although not a 
 
 moment elapsed from the time she heard the door slammed, 
 no living creature could be seen. 
 
 She looked round twice or thrice, but all was undis- 
 turbed, and just as she had left, nor was there any trace 
 which would lead one to suppose that it had been recently 
 entered. 
 
 Bewildered and alarmed, Bess sank down into a chair, 
 and, clasping her hands tightly about her head, strove to 
 calm her mind, and think dispassionately of the occur- 
 rences of the last two or three hours. 
 
 She found the task a difficult one. 
 
 " How came he to enter here so silently and unperceived 
 as he did ? " she asked herself; " for when he spoke be- 
 hind me I had no idea of his presence ; and, then, how 
 did he leave ? His pointing to the window was only a 
 device to conceal the means by which he departed. And 
 why did he slam the door ? Was that to mislead me 
 again ? I must think — I must think." 
 
 For a long while Edgworth Bess remained in deep 
 meditation, and then she rose to her feet. 
 
 There was an air of decision about her which she had 
 not previously displayed. 
 
 " I will make a careful examination of this place," she 
 said. " I have good grounds for doing so. I feel con- 
 vinced there are some other means of leaving these apart- 
 ments than by the strong and firmly -fastened door through 
 which I was brought. No doubt this other door — if door 
 it is — depends entirely upon its secrecy for its security. 
 So I will be diligent, and search." 
 
 She was impelled to do this with all the greater expedi- 
 tion, for she found, from the decreased amount of light 
 that came into the room, that night was fast approaching. 
 Therefore, what she had to do, it .behoved her to do 
 quickly. 
 
 Returning to the outer room, in which she had had her 
 terrible interview with Colonel Thome, she made a minute 
 examination of every part of it. 
 
 But all her trouble met with no reward. _ She was 
 unable to find anything like a secret means of ingress or 
 egress, and so, with the utmost reluctance, she passed into 
 the bed-chamber, and made a rigid examination of that 
 also. 
 
 Floor, walls, and every part was scrutinized with a 
 minuteness that one would have thought more than suffi- 
 cient to cause the discovery of the most cunningly-con- 
 trived hiding-place, but alas ! for her hopes of escape, the 
 result was just the same. 
 
 And now she came to that other door in her bedroom 
 which she had several times seen, but through which she 
 had never attempted to penetrate. 
 
 Her hand trembled, and her heart palpitated as she 
 turned the knob. 
 
 Somewhat to her surprise, she found it give way before 
 her touch. 
 
 She flung the door wide open. 
 
 But she did not venture to cross the threshold until she 
 had first taken a glance at its interior. 
 
 In the first place, there did not seem to be so much 
 light in this room as there was in the three others. _ 
 
 And such was indeed the case, for it was smaller in size, 
 and there was but one window. 
 
 The day, too, was still declining, which made it all the 
 more manifest. 
 
 But, whatever might have been the mysteries of that 
 room, Edgworth Bess was not yet destined to explore 
 them. 
 
 For one thing there was not light enough to enable her 
 to properly examine it, and, just as she was about to enter 
 it, the outermost door opened. 
 
 In a moment she sprang forward to see who it was. 
 
 It was the huge female. 
 
 She carried in her hand a small tray, upon which a 
 tempting repast was laid. 
 
 This she placed upon the table. 
 
 Bess looked at the viands wistfully. 
 
 It was a long, long time since she had tasted food, and 
 she felt faint and sick in consequence. 
 
 Whoever the woman might be, and however repulsive 
 her outward form might appear to be, she had a tender 
 heart, and, had it not been for the terror in which she 
 stood of Colonel Thorne, she would certainly have assisted 
 our heroine to escape. . 
 
 As it was, she could not bear to hear her supplications 
 for aid and help. They cut her to the heart, and so sho
 
 174 
 
 BUfESKIN: A nOMAXCE. 
 
 was glad enough <o be able to place the things upon the 
 table without a repetition of the former scene, ax 
 left tin' room, after having done bo, with the greatest pre* 
 oipitatioDj determined to give Bess no more ohanoe of 
 speaking to her than she could help. 
 
 And Bdgworth Bess had not hear! to i no* bor 
 entreaties. 
 
 The door was olosed and locked. 
 
 The reoeding footsteps of the bulky female became in- 
 audible. 
 
 As she gazed upon the viands bo temptingly displayed 
 before her, poor Be s could not help feeling the on 
 of hunger vi ry, von- strongly. 
 
 But • 1 to gratify thorn. 
 
 The remembrance of the drugged wiuo aroso up like 
 some horrible phantom in her imagination. 
 
 Andyet this might be nntampered with, and, besides, 
 
 Bhe asked herself if she denied herself food, how was she 
 
 to hope to have strength enough to carry out her purpose, 
 
 or embrace any opportunity of escape that might bo 
 
 ed to her. 
 
 Under the influence of those thoughts, she looked more 
 I at the different eatables upon the tray. 
 
 Conspicuous above all was a small cake of wheat en 
 bread. 
 
 " Surely," sbo said, as sbo took it in her bauds, " no 
 harm or poisonous drug can b l in this. 1 may 
 
 e.it of it without fear. At any rate, 1 will run tbo risk, 
 for my position is now BO bad it cannot, by any possibility, 
 be made much worse." 
 
 So ;-:> ok the cake. 
 
 it was whole, and nowhere in tbe crust could sib 
 any signs of its having boon tampered with, and so sbo 
 ventured to break off a portion and eat it. 
 
 To her it tasted sweeter than it was in reality. 
 
 The taste, however, convinced her that all was well, and 
 sbo ate of it heartily. 
 
 .lust as she had finished her meal, the last ray of day- 
 light faded from the room, leaving her iu sudden and 
 later darkness. 
 
 OHAPTEB CXX. 
 
 BJ ■! LTES SOME PARTICULARS CONNECTED WITH CAPTAIN 
 
 HOWLET, THE PIBATE. 
 No doubt the reader, like poor Edgworth Bess, feels no 
 inconsiderable amount of curiosity to know why the dock 
 —if dock it was— should strike bo eccentrically, and why- 
 it produced the effect it did upon Colonel Thorns. 
 
 The idea that it was a signal of some kind will readily 
 occur to the imagination, tint what kind of signal i 
 it be to make him withdraw at the moment when it would 
 seem be bad succeeded in making a favourable impres- 
 sion P 
 
 By what mysterious means, too, had ho managed to 
 leavo tbo chamber almost instantaneously, and without 
 leaving any trace behind r 1 
 
 These questions willj in good time, bo answered, as well 
 as many strange particulars given of this man, in every 
 j the word remarkable. 
 
 But in order to do this fully, and to laybeforo the reader 
 a clear account of all, it will be necessary, for a time, to 
 leave our characters where they are, and take up tbe 
 thread of tbe narrative at another point. 
 
 In doing this, we promise to occupy no more space than 
 Comprehension allows us, and the reader will find the 
 episode we are about to lay before him the most interesting 
 and unparalleled in tbo whole history. 
 
 At the time, then, of which we are writing, the North 
 Sea and the English Chanuel were much infested with 
 pirates, who, setting every law and principle of humanity 
 at defiance, and eluding every attempt made to obj 
 them, struek terror into the hearts of all those who, from 
 necessity, navigated the seas. 
 
 But among the numerous horde there was ono who 
 made himself and bis vessel conspicuous and pro-eminent 
 above tbe rest by the desperate nature of bis deeds, and 
 the success whieb invariably attended what )m *«>.>k in 
 hand. 
 
 The name and fame of this celebrated pirate were 
 spread far and wide, and many a stout heart trembled 
 when the atrocities 01 himself and crew were mentioned. 
 
 For man] ars had their depredations been suc- 
 
 cessfully carried on. There were some tew who existed 
 
 who had been attacked by them and escaped with lifo ; hut 
 very lew indeed, for it was a part of tbo policy of tbeso 
 pirates to slay every ono who came into their hands. 
 
 In somo mysterious manner tbo name of their leader 
 got whispered abroad. 
 
 It was Captain Eowlet. Sometimes, however, tbo titlo 
 was dropped, and he was called simply the I low let, which, 
 
 as many of our readers may perhaps be aware, from tbo 
 fact of its being in provincial use, is an old Anglo-Norman 
 word, used to ele, innate tbo large white or barn-owl. 
 
 Why he had as timed this name was considered obvious. 
 Like an owl, be was only beard of by night, and it was 
 then ho sought his prey. 
 
 But there were others who said that this namo was not 
 of bis own assumption, but that it bad been bestowed 
 upon him for tbo convenience of distinction by tbo 
 authorities. 
 
 Tbeso called him tbo Owlet, and derived tbo word from 
 the law term to owl (i.e., carry on a contraband or unlaw ful 
 trade). 
 
 But which of these was right can only bo uufolded by 
 time, and the reader is at liberty for the present to espouse 
 tbe hypothesis of either. 
 
 Be it how it may, however, Captain Howlet, the pirate, 
 was tbe terror of tbe English and adjacent coasts. Tbo 
 most incredible stories respecting himself and bis vessel 
 were afloat. Those who bad been fortunate enough to 
 escape from the clutches of tbo crew, described him as a 
 man of gigantic stature and superhuman strength; and 
 that tbe faces of bis crew and himself were covered with 
 masks of a peculiar and terrifying description, being 
 wrought into the semblanco of owls' beads. 
 
 Then, as for the vessel ! No fairy hark could ever have 
 achieved the feats that wore ascribed to it. It tlow through 
 the water with the velocity of an arrow, enabling it to 
 come up with its prey and escape from danger. 
 
 And certainly this latter power the pirate vessel seemed 
 to have, for hitherto it bad defied all efforts made to 
 capture it. 
 
 Ships and men bad been specially dispatched on tbo 
 mission, but all bad returned ballled and dofeated, wbilo 
 tbe daring deeds of Captain Howlet were heard of almost 
 daily. 
 
 And now, when wo havo said so much, wo have put tho 
 reader into possession of all the facts tho public or any 
 one else had respecting these notorious buccaneers. Tbero 
 may bo a few other details, but they are trivial oues, and 
 unsupported by authority. 
 
 There were times, however, when nothing would bo 
 hoard of Captain Howlet and his crew. Vessels would 
 
 arrive and depart in safety ; confidence would begin to bo 
 restored, and then be would suddenly appear again, to tbo 
 terror and confusion of those who thought to make their 
 voyage uu molested. 
 
 Nor were bis depredations coufined to ono spot. lie 
 would one day be heard of cruising about tbe entrance to 
 the Bay of Biscay, and the next he would scuttle a vessel 
 in the German Ocean ; then again bo would appear off the 
 English coast. 
 
 And so it will be seen that aU that was known of him 
 was vague, unsatisfactory, and mysterious. 
 
 But that which appeared so mysterious will quickly be 
 made manifest to our readers. 
 
 Not very far from Dover tbero was, in tho face of one of 
 the huge precipitous dill's, a cleft or indentation; aud as 
 the eluf spoken of rose sheer from tbe water's edge, it 
 was not possible for this to be perceived, except from tho 
 deck of some ship or boat passing that spot. 
 
 When at that distance — for there was nothing in the 
 appearance of tbe place to cause any one to wish to make 
 B closer investigation — it differed iu no respect from hun- 
 dreds of cracks or fissures which diversified tho cliffs, and 
 of which tho widest and deepest were known to bo only a 
 few feet in width and depth. 
 
 But tbe one to Which we now direct attention was dif- 
 ferent to its companions, but not iu height, width, or 
 general appearance. 
 
 Upon taking a small boat, aud rowing quite close up to 
 it, no difference would be perceptible. 
 
 You might even row into the bttle cavernous-like placp. 
 
 You would then have found that it extended a little more 
 than the boat's length. 
 
 Here the solid wall of tbo cliff would be fauud woia 
 into a thousand hollows by tho curious, restless waves.
 
 I- 
 
 BLTJESKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 175 
 
 The one side would produce a similar appearance, so f ar 
 as solidity went, and so would the other. 
 
 The most careful scrutiny would not reveal an inlet. 
 
 But there was one. 
 
 And now, having examined the three sides of rha 
 cavern, the explorer would probably turn his eyes upwards 
 to the roof. 
 
 It would, except at high tide, bo very many feet above 
 him. 
 
 Quite out of reach, and too high up for liim to see it 
 distinctly. 
 
 Could he have ascended, it is there he would have found 
 the inlet. 
 
 ' Yet it was concealed as carefully as possible ; no casual 
 glance would have discovered it. 
 
 That this was the pirates' secret haunt the reader must 
 already suspect. 
 
 This indentation was at the base of the cliiF upon the 
 summit of which Colonel Thome's residence, "The 
 Larches," was situated. 
 
 A man so wealthy as the colonel seemed to be was, 
 of course, well known and much noticed by those who 
 resided in the neighbourhood. 
 
 His horses, his dogs, and his equipages were the delight 
 and admiration of all who were fortunate enough to behold 
 them. 
 
 In one word, they were faultless. 
 
 Among his other possessions of this character was a 
 beautifully-built yacht, but although this was the most 
 admired of all, yet it appeared to be the one of which he 
 made the least use, and of which he took the least 
 notice. 
 
 It was nearly always to be seen riding at anchor at a 
 short distance from the land ; but as it is well known that 
 things wear out most when not in use, so the men in 
 charge of this yacht used at times to cruise off for days 
 together. 
 
 And now, while we are speaking of the colonel and 
 his possessions, we may as well take the opportunity of 
 describing briefly the outward appearance of his dwel- 
 ling. 
 
 Doing so at this juncture will spare us the necessity of 
 interrupting the narration of events, for in order to 
 properly understand that which follows, it is requisite 
 that a correct notion of its appearance should be had. 
 
 Wc have already said that it was a long, low, rambling 
 edifice, built in the Elizabethan style of architecture. The 
 material used in its erection was a grayish-coloured stone, 
 only a few shades darker than the cliff forming its founda- 
 tion-. 
 
 The mansion was uniformly two stories in height, 
 except in one portion near the centre of the building, 
 where it rose another story, and was then surmounted 
 by an antique clock-tower, or turret. 
 
 The upper portion of this turret — that is to say, above 
 the clock — was dome-like in shape, carrying upon its 
 highest part a ball and cross, in all respects, save that of 
 size, resembling those which crowned the spires of so 
 many of our cathedrals. 
 
 From its elevated position being not only double the 
 height of the surrounding building, which in its lowest 
 part was nearly three hundred feet above the level of the 
 sea, it was a most conspicuous object when seen from the 
 land, but still more so when viewed from the sea, whence 
 it could be distinguished at a distance of very many miles. 
 
 Strange to say, this part of the colonel's abode was 
 suffered to go to ruin and decay. The other portions, so 
 soon as they required it, were carefully repaired ; this 
 belfry or clock-tower was alone neglected. 
 
 For what reason no one could conjecture. It cer- 
 tainly had the effect of spoiling the appearance of the 
 whole, and those who enjoyed the acquaintance of the 
 colonel, one and all, knew him to be a man who would 
 brook no idle questions upon such a subject. 
 
 Having explained so far, we will now proceed to direct 
 the attention of the reader to a scene of the wildest and 
 most startling interest. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXI. 
 
 TEE PIRATE CREW PROCEED TO EXECUTE SUMMARY 
 JUSTICE UPON THE SPY. 
 
 "A spy ! a spy ! Down with him ! Slay him ! Knock 
 Lia on the head with a marling-spike ! Let him have it ! 
 
 Death to the spy ! Will Ogden he calls himself ! Down 
 with Will Ogden ! Down with him ! Death ! death ! " 
 
 These words came from many a fierce throat, and were 
 uttered with gesticulations of ungovernable rage. 
 
 Those who uttered them were men dressed in a semi- 
 nautical costume. 
 
 They had all seized upon one man, who, in the most 
 abject terror, had sank upon his knees. 
 
 His countenance proclaimed his guilt, and gave the lie 
 to the words which fell faltcringly from his lips. 
 
 He was dressed in a similar manner to those who made 
 use of such threatening language and gestures towards 
 him. 
 
 The scene was a largo cavernous apartment. 
 
 Irregular in shape. 
 
 Unequal in height. 
 
 The sides and roof composed of calcareous rock. 
 
 The floor of bright glittering sand and sea shells. 
 
 The extent of the place could be seen by the lamps 
 which were hung at uncertain intervals around it. 
 
 It was probably a quarter of an acre. 
 
 In five places five veryl arge lamps were suspended by 
 a chain from the ceiling, and as each carried several wicks, 
 the place was tolerably well illuminated. 
 
 Of course, to any one coming in fresh out of the sunshine, 
 it would have seemed dark and gloomy enough, but to 
 those who had been in it for some time there was sufficient 
 light to enable them to distinguish anything. 
 
 " A rope ! a rope ! " cried the men again. " Put a 
 rope round his neck and run him up ! That is the death 
 for a traitor and a spy ! Death ! death ! A rope ! a 
 rope ! " 
 
 " Here you are, mates ! " said a voice ; " here's as taut 
 a line as you could wish to see ! Don't loose him ! hold 
 him tight ! Here, Joe, you help me." 
 
 The speaker, a short, burly seaman, who, as soon as tho 
 rope was mentioned, separated himself from the turbulent 
 throng, and returned with the article demanded. 
 
 With true sailor-like dexterity ho formed one end into a 
 running noose ; then going to one side of the cavern, 
 where a large hook projected from the wall, he, after two 
 or three attempts, succeeded in throwing the end of tho 
 rope over it. 
 
 The one he had called to his assistance understood 
 without being told what was required of him, and from 
 one of the many little recesses round the side of the 
 place he rolled an empty barrel. 
 
 Its appearance was hailed with a shout of delight by 
 the others. 
 
 To place it on end just underneath the hook took him 
 but a moment, and then all was ready ; for while thi3 
 was going forward those who held the poor trembling 
 wretch in their grasp, had pinioned his arms behind 
 him. 
 
 Then, in spite of his frantic cries and struggles, they 
 lifted him bodily upon the on-end cask. 
 
 By blows they forced him to stand upright. 
 
 Then the noose was slipped over his head, and drawn 
 tight about his neck. 
 
 The burly seaman took hold of the other end. 
 
 " Now then, mates, say the word and up he goes, like 
 an angel. Are you ready ? " 
 
 " Mercy ! have mercy ! " cried the man ; " spare my 
 life — spare it, and I will confess all ! Mercy ! mercy ! you 
 make a mistake ! All of you make a mistake ! I am 
 innocent — indeed, I am." 
 
 " We are ready," exclaimed the other sailors ; " Up 
 with him, Ben ! I'll bear a hand. Now, then, one " — 
 
 In a perfect yell, which penetrated to every nook and 
 corner of the cavern, and aroused many a slumbering 
 echo, the poor wretch so close to death shrieked out the 
 one word — 
 
 " Mercy ! " 
 
 " Two ! " 
 
 "Mercy!" he shrieked again, with even, if possible, 
 more violence than before. Mercy ! Mr. Morgan ! Mr. 
 ! Morgan ! You will put a stop to this. Spare me— spare 
 me ! Mercy ! oh ! mercy ! " 
 
 From his elevated position the accused was able to see 
 over the heads of his late comrades, and perceived a 
 person approaching, with wonder and anger in his looks. 
 
 It was the lieutenant, or second in command of the 
 band, assembled in the cavern. 
 
 The name by which he had addressed him was the on«
 
 176 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 T>y which he was known to the stern beings he had 'Kider 
 his command. 
 
 " Hold ! " he cried, in a load and imperative voice. 
 
 The band was still in a moment. 
 
 The one who was about to pronounce the word three, 
 let the sound die away upon his lips in a whisper. 
 
 The man who was ready to obey the signal slackened 
 the rope slightly. 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Morgan ! Mr. Morgan ! " cried the one who, 
 rightfully or wrongfully, had been accused of being a spy, 
 and who gathered some hope from the appearance of the 
 lieutenant. " You know me, Mr. Morgan. Will Ogden ! 
 To be sure you know Will Ogden. Spare me ! — save me ! 
 They call me a traitor and spy, and wish my death. But 
 I am innocent — innocent ! Mercy — mercy ! " 
 
 "Peace!— peace! Not another word. What is the 
 meaning of all this ? Come forward, some of you, and 
 speak. Not all of you at once." 
 
 " I will tell you, Mr. Morgan. I will tell you. Indeed, 
 I will tell you all," cried the man with the rope around 
 his neck. 
 
 Lieutenant Morgan looked at him angrily. 
 
 " Silence, I say ! Let me not hear your voice again. 
 It seems to me that they have discovered you to be a spy. 
 I am not surprised, and am inclined to believe it, for I 
 have long had my suspicions of you. So I warn 3-ou, for 
 your own sake, to be silent." 
 
 After these words, the poor wretch seemed to collapse, 
 and he sank down on the head of the cask as low as the 
 rope would allow him. 
 
 "Will you let me speak, sir," said a man, coming 
 forward from the rest of the throng, and saluting the 
 lieutenant. 
 
 " Certainly, Batson, certainly." 
 
 " Well, then, it fell out this ways. As Tom Drotchel, 
 yonder, was walking across the cave, we noticed a paper 
 fall from his pocket, or somewhere else about him. Think- 
 ing it might be from some lass, or to one, for that matter, 
 we thought to have a bit of fun with him, knowing what 
 a surly chap he in general is, so, without saying a word, 
 I got up and walked to where the letter was lying on tip- 
 toe, and picked it up unperceived. I went to look at it, 
 but I couldn't make out the lingo, so I gave it to Joe 
 Dudley, and asked him to spell it out to the company." 
 
 " Well, what then ?" 
 
 " That's all, sir ; and, with your leave, my mate, Joe 
 Dudley, will tell you the rest." 
 
 " Good ! Stand aside, Dudley." 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 " Go on with the story." 
 
 " Yes, your honour. Well, as Eatson said, I thought 
 to have some fun, so I began to read the letter ; but, my 
 stars ! what do you think it were ? Shall I read it to you, 
 your honour ? " 
 
 " Yes, and then all may hear." 
 
 " Ay — ay, your honour." 
 
 The lieutenant gave this permission because he could 
 not read himself; indeed, the man Dudley was the only 
 one possessed of that accomplishment. 
 
 " It's a first-rate hand, sir. That was the first thing I 
 looked at ; and not such as we should turn out, however." 
 
 "Hespected Sir, — 
 
 _ " The suspicions which I had the honour of communi- 
 cating to you have turned out to be no more than fact. 
 At great trouble and risk I have succeeded in joining the 
 pirate-band, and write this in their secret haunt, of 
 the existence of which they do not dream any one 
 but themselves has the least idea. However, it is 
 beyond_ all doubt that the much-dreaded and myste- 
 rious pirate, known as Captain Howlet, is no other than 
 Colonel Thome, the owner and occupier of the man- 
 sion called " The Larches." Of this I have abundant 
 proof, having seen him frequently in both characters. The 
 cavern in which the pirates conceal themselves is hollowed 
 out of the cliff upon which the house stands, and there is 
 a secret means of communication between the two, known 
 only to the captain himself. The means by which you 
 . will find it best to make an attack, I have yet to learn ; 
 but as soon as I possess the knowledge, I will take care 
 that no time is lost in making you aware of all particulars. 
 I should not have written now, only I thought yon would 
 feel anxious to hear something respecting me. So no 
 more at present from George Hawkins." 
 
 There was perfect silence while Joe Dudley read this 
 
 precious epistle, which seemed to place the guilt of the 
 prisoner beyond all doubt. 
 
 Lieutenant Morgan looked sternly at him during the 
 whole of the time occupied by the perusal. 
 
 For the life of him the poor abject wretch could not 
 bear his gazo. 
 
 He turned his eyes away. 
 
 "A traitor — a traitor," cried the pirates; "hang him 
 up— hang him up ! Quick ! Let not the villain live ! " 
 
 Lieutenant Morgan held up his hand. 
 
 "Hold," he said. " Silence, all. This is very serious 
 business, and there is one above us all who ought not to 
 remain in ignorance of it any longer. Let him decide his 
 
 " The Howlet — the Howlet ! " cried the pirates, as with 
 one voice. " The Howlet ! " 
 
 " Yes," continued Morgan. " I will summon our brave 
 captain, who will best know how to deal with such as he 
 is. Silence, all, and wait his coming." 
 
 As bespoke, the lieutenant went to a small recess in the 
 cavern side, and put some machinery or other in motion. 
 
 Then he advanced to the centre and waited. 
 
 There would have been a breathless silence nad it not 
 been for the convicted spy. 
 
 A few minutes elapsed, and then, from the darkest 
 portion of the cavern, came a tall and commanding figure. 
 
 When it reached the light it presented an appearance 
 awful in the extreme. 
 
 It was a man of gigantic stature, with the head of a huge 
 owl. 
 
 CHAPTEB, CXXII. 
 
 BLUESKIN IS FIRED AT BY JONATHAN WILD, AND HAS 
 TO SWIM DOWN THE THAMES FOR HIS LIFE. 
 
 Fair or sterner reader of this record of love, of trial, of 
 temptation, of crime, of sin, of Tiolence, of suffering, of 
 treachery, of courage, and all the attributes which dis- 
 figure human nature, turn back with us for a little while, 
 during which we will occupy ourselves with the fortunes 
 of three of our chief characters. 
 
 Leaving the mysterious-looking pirate chief to mete out 
 such justice to the traitor in his band as he may think 
 proper, and leaving the poor wretch to make abject sup- 
 plications for his life. 
 
 Leaving, too, Edgworth Bess in her dangerous cap- 
 tivity, let us take up the thread of our narrative at that 
 point when Jack Sheppard was made a prisoner upon 
 Blackfriars-bridge, and where Blueskin only escaped a 
 similar fate by the desperate feat of leaping from the 
 parapet of the bridge into the river. 
 
 It will no doubt be well remembered by the reader that 
 Jonathan Wild, the moment he saw this daring act per- 
 formed, shouted to his men to keep strict guard over their 
 prisoner, while the remainder followed him. 
 
 Then, with the recklessness of insanity, he dashed down 
 the broad flight of slippery stone steps leading from the 
 bridge to the water, those steps which are even now about 
 to be swept away. 
 
 The receding tide had left the stones wet, and it is a 
 thousand wonders that in his headlong descent Wild did 
 not lose his footing. 
 
 But he did not. 
 
 He reached the bottom step in safety. 
 
 Then he strove to pierce with straining eyes the dense 
 mist which hung upon the surface of thp water. 
 
 A boatman, too, who had been for hours in expectation 
 of a fare, roused up from the sleep into which he had 
 fallen, and just guiding his little wherry to the foot of the 
 steps in front of where Wild stood, he cried out, in sleepy 
 tones — 
 
 " Boat, your honour, boat. Do you want a boat, your 
 honour ? " 
 
 But Wild was too much occupied just at that moment 
 either to hear or heed his words. 
 
 As the man asked the question, one of those natural 
 phenomena occurred, which, though common enough, are 
 rarely seen by human eyes. 
 
 As if by the magic influence of an enchanter's wand, 
 the dense mist suddenly dissolved — disappeared. 
 
 Nor did it leave the least trace to show that it had been, 
 except in the far distance, where it could be seen curlirg 
 up and vanishing with great rapidity. 
 
 And then the rising sun cast his beams upon the wuicrs.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 177 3 
 
 [EDGWORTH BESS HAS A PERILOUS ADVENTURE IN ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE PROM COLONEL TIIORNE.] 
 
 But by neither of these did Wild puffer his attention 
 to be diverted. 
 
 His eyes were fixed upon the Thames. 
 
 Suddenly he uttered an exclamation, and drawing a 
 pistol with great rapidity from his belt, he fired. 
 
 Hi3 eagle glance had caught sight of Blueskin's head 
 tear the buttress of the bridge. 
 
 To see this, take aim at it, and fire, seemed simultaneous 
 actions, so little interval was there between them, so little 
 time did the whole occupy. 
 
 The sharp report of the pistol was followed by a cry. 
 
 Then the head disappeared. 
 j( " By heaven ! I have hit him ! " cried Wild, exultingly. 
 'I have hit him! Now, where' s your infernal boat? 
 Quick ! and I shall have him yet ! " 
 
 But the waterman, somewhat dismayed by these sum- 
 mary proceedings, and immediately forming a natural 
 dread of so violent an individual, backed water, and got 
 out of reach. 
 
 " YUlain ! " roared Jonathan, " your boat ! Quick, or 
 
 it will be the worse for you. Do you hear ? I command 
 you in the king's name ! I am Jonathan Wild." 
 
 Upon hearing this declaration, the terror of the water- 
 man visibly increased, but he did not dare refuse to obey 
 the thief-taker, so he rowed again to the foot of the steps, 
 mentally cursing himself for having woke up as he did. 
 
 Wild sprang hastily into the boat, followed by his two 
 men. 
 
 By his directions the waterman rowed to the projection 
 of the bridge near which he had seen Blueskin's head 
 disappear. 
 
 Then he stood up in the boat, and looked closely about 
 him. 
 
 For full a moment he gazed vainly. Nothing could he 
 see but the chill dreary waste ^ f waters everywhere 
 around him. 
 
 There was a strong current of air underneath_ the 
 bridge, apparently carrying a number of watery particles, 
 and as it swept with full force against and past the 
 inmates of the boat, it seemed to chill them to the bone. 
 
 Ko. 28.
 
 Uff 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAWCd. 
 
 Ail shivered save Jonathan Wild, and he was too intent 
 upon what he was about to tako cognizance of any other 
 circumstance. 
 
 But, for all that, one moment was sufficient to load his 
 hair and apparel with moisture. «* 
 
 The tide was flowing out, so it was down the river that 
 Jonathan looked, under the full impression that he should 
 agaiu see the head of his ancient coadjutor and ally. 
 
 Should he do so, ho had a pistol ready in his grasp, and 
 that he would not hesitate to favour him with its contents 
 there cannot be a doubt, for Blueskin knew too much, and 
 was too deeply in many of his secrets, to make it safe for 
 him to live as Jonathan's avowed enemy. 
 
 It was probable enough that the first shot he had fired 
 was an effective one, but, if so, the body would in a little 
 time rise to the surface, and this time he determined not 
 to depart without assuring himself that he really was no 
 more. 
 
 Already had he had sufficient evidence to prove that 
 Blueskin had a cranium of no ordinary thickness, and 
 that he had as many chances of his life as a cat, and so, 
 on this occasion, he determined to be more than ordinarily 
 particular. 
 
 " Look about you, you villains ! " he roared to hia men, 
 finding himself unable to distinguish anything resembling 
 what he looked for. " Do you hear me r " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, sir, if you please," replied the janizaries, 
 their teeth chattering with the intensely raw cold ; 
 
 " Then can you see anything ? Ha ! v»hat is that ? 
 There he is!" 
 Bang ! went Wild's pistol. 
 
 Something in the distance had caught his eye, and 
 caused him to give vent to the hasty exclamation he did. 
 The moment he saw it he fired. 
 
 Then, without waiting to see whether he had accom- 
 plished any good by his hasty aim, ho cried — 
 
 " Bow — row ! Yonder — yonder ! Quick, I will guide 
 you ! " 
 
 In obedience to these hurried and imperious commands, 
 the waterman let fall his oars over the sides of the boat, 
 and rowed with all the vigour which the muscles of his 
 arm3 would permit in the direction Wild indicated. 
 
 The smoke from the discharged pistol hung lazily 
 about the surface of the river for some seconds, gradually 
 diffusing itself until it became of such extreme tenuity that 
 it was no longer visible. 
 
 As soon as this was the case, it was with a voice of 
 terrible exultation that Wild cried — 
 
 " I see him ! There he goes ! Look — look ! Keep 
 him in sight, whatever you do ! We are sure to overtake 
 him ! Faster— faster ! We shall have him yet ! " 
 
 The waterman began to feel some kind of personal 
 interest in the chase, which was no more than natural, 
 although he had been so frightened at first, but there is a 
 contagious excitement in chasing anything, no matter, 
 whether beast or man, which seems to be an inherent 
 quality in the breasts of human beings. 
 
 Bending his back, then, to his task, and exerting his 
 utmost strength, he gave most vigorous long and lusty 
 strokes, which caused the little bark to bound over the 
 mimic waves upon the Thames with a speed that was 
 really marvellous. 
 
 But of this Jonathan, who stood in the prow of the 
 boat, was unconscious. To liim the progress of the boat 
 seemed tediously slow. 
 
 His eyes were riveted upon a small dark object drifting 
 down the river with the tide. 
 
 Nothing, he resolved, let it be what it might, should in- 
 duce him to remove his gaze even for a single moment, 
 lest in that moment he should lose sight of what he had 
 before so anxiously sought to see. 
 
 And now, as the morning got more and more advanced 
 
 and the daylight brighter, ho was all the better able to 
 
 perceive the object in the water, and, at last, there could 
 
 be no possibility of doubt that it was the head of a humau 
 
 i being. 
 
 Despite, however, all the efforts which the boatman 
 made, they did not gain very perceptibly upon it. 
 
 Wild had not another pistol loaded, or he would 
 assuredly have fired again, and, so great was his excite- 
 ment, that the thought did not occur to him either to 
 order his janizaries to tire, or ask them tor one of their 
 pistols. 
 
 But soon the agitation and excitement which Wild had 
 felt increased to an unbearable extent, for the swiftly- 
 floating object was approaching the numerous vessels 
 which were moored off the Surrey side of old London- 
 bridge. 
 
 Once among the shadows and intricacies of those, Wild 
 felt certain that all hopes of recovering him would be 
 futile. To use an old and familiar illustration, it would be 
 like looking for a needle in a bottle of hay. 
 
 " Row ! " he yelled, and his voice sounded with remark- 
 able distinctness over the silent river ; for as yet the hour 
 was too early for any of the craft to be in motion. " Row ! 
 — curse you — row ! or he will escape us ! If he reaches 
 the boats he is lost." 
 
 And so seemed to think the swimmer, for his speed 
 could bo seen to perceptibly increase. 
 
 No doubt the so close prospect of safety nerved his fail- 
 ing powers to fresh exertion. 
 
 Perspiration poured from the head and face of the 
 waterman, but all was useless, for in another moment the 
 swimmer disappeared behind a huge, clumsy vessel. 
 
 " Damnation ! " roared Wild But I will not give in 
 yet. 11a ! there he goes again ! Fool that he was not to 
 make the most of such a chance ! Why, he seems to be 
 swimming towards us." 
 
 And such was the case. 
 
 Whether the wounds he had received from Wild's bullets 
 had bewildered his brain, or whether he had been seized 
 with a sudden insanity, wo know not ; but certain it is, 
 that the swimmer now left the shelter of the boats he had 
 soemed so anxious to gain, and was swimmiag towards 
 Wild's boat. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MEETS WITH AN ADVENTURE WHICH 
 THOROUGHLY BAFFLES AND BEWILDERS HIM. 
 
 A demoniac roar came from Wild's lips when he first 
 perceived this circumstance, but its note quickly changed 
 to dread, for in this there was something so extraordinary 
 that he could not control his apprehensions. 
 
 " Shall I fire now, Mr. Wild ?" said one of the janizaries ; 
 " ho is close to us, and evidently mad, and there is no 
 knowing what mad people may not do." 
 
 " Yes ; fire in the devil's name ! Why did you not do 
 so before ? Fire ! " 
 
 No sooner was the command given than it was obeyed — 
 for the janizary had a very wholesomo fear of mad people, 
 and was only too glad to have the chance of putting an 
 end to that feeling and his trouble at the same timo. 
 
 The aim was a good ono, for a loud shriek resounded 
 over the water, and the swimmer turned round several 
 times, as though in tho agonies of death. 
 
 "Now row/' said Wild. "We have him at last!" 
 " Quick ! or he will sink, and we shall lose him that way, 
 ana I should not feel safe unless I saw his dead body 
 with my own eyes." 
 
 " There is a couple of boat-hooks lying at the bottom of 
 
 "Take them, and you 
 
 will be able to lay hold of him." 
 
 the boat," said the waterman. 
 
 The janizaries stooped down and picked up two of those 
 long poles, with strong iron hooks and spikes at their 
 extremity, and used by the boatmen for various purposes. 
 
 One was much longer than the other, and this was the 
 one that was handed to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 From its extreme length it was very heavy to hold, and 
 few men could have used it without a great deal of trouble ; 
 but Wild was gifted with more than ordinary strength, 
 especially when his mind was fixed upon any particular 
 object: and so on this occasion he took hold of the 
 ponderous implement and wielded it with an ease and 
 dexterity which instantly elicited the waterman's admi- 
 ration ; who, nevertheless, did not relax in his efforts to 
 increase tho speed of the boat. 
 
 Quickly they reached the spot where the swimmer was 
 still floundering and endeavouring with all his remaining 
 strength to do battle with the waves. 
 
 A deep red tinge was on the water around him, which 
 showed that he was bleeding profusely from some wound 
 or wounds. 
 
 At last ho came within reach. 
 
 Jonathan Wild poised the ponderous boat-hook, and 
 watched his opportunity.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 179 
 
 Then he, with great viciousness, stuck the sharp steel 
 into the bleeding form. 
 
 A deep and horrible groan followed. 
 
 The hook had taken a firm hold, and gradually and 
 gently, so that it should not slip, he drew the wooden 
 pole through his hands. 
 
 The body followed easity, for it is well known how 
 light a human being is when immersed in water. 
 
 Then the janizaries, who had the other hook, fastened it 
 in the clothing, and they hauled steadily, gently assisting 
 their ferocious master. 
 
 The boatman, right glad of tho chance, rested on his 
 oars, for the exertions he had made had greatly fatigued 
 him. 
 
 Another moment, during which tho waterman looked 
 on at the proceedings of the three men with horror and a 
 sickened heart. 
 
 The body was brought to the boat side. 
 
 Then they had by far the most difficult portion of their 
 task to accomplish. 
 
 That was to lift the poor mangled body of their prey 
 over tho gunwale. 
 
 But after a little trouble they managed to do this. 
 
 The body had come with the back turned towards 
 them. 
 
 As, however, they lifted it and it rolled into the boat, 
 they saw the countenance. 
 
 Bleeding, bruised, and disfigured it was, but still there 
 was sufficient configuration left to make them confident 
 that it was not he whom they sought — he who had leaped 
 in so daring a manner off the bridge — he whom they had 
 chased with so much toil and trouble down the Thames. 
 
 Iu fine, it was not Blueskin. 
 
 That was a point that admitted not of the least doubt or 
 contradiction. 
 
 Indeed, when they came to look more closely at the 
 form which was now lying at full length on its back in the 
 boat, the two men were at a loss to conceive how it was 
 they had not discovered their mistake earlier. 
 
 But the fact is, they never gave the subject the least 
 thought at all. It never entered their minds for a single 
 instant that there might be some other person in tho river 
 besides Blueskin. 
 
 We have, however, not said a word of the effect which 
 this discovery had upon Jonathan Wild. 
 
 We feel our powers of depiction totally inadequate to 
 such a task. 
 
 Let it suffice to say that he poured forth a volume of the 
 most horrible curses .that could be conceived, and which 
 only did him credit 6n the score of the copiousness of 
 his vocabulary. 
 
 His men. accustomed as they were to the fearful impre- 
 cations he at times uttered, fairly shuddered as they heard 
 him; and as for the waterman, he sat speechless and 
 aghast. 
 
 This tempest of passion, from its very violence, soon 
 exhausted itself. 
 
 Wild grew calmer. 
 
 He looked down at the prostrate body at his feet, and 
 could hardly believe what his own eyes avouched. 
 
 How was it the mistake had been made, for a mistake 
 there was somewhere ? 
 
 But where ? 
 
 When had it occurred ? 
 
 He was thoroughly foiled, and the more he thought the 
 more did his perplexities increase. 
 
 He was baffled and bewildered. 
 
 Had he not, with all speed possible, after Blueskin took 
 his mad leap from the parapet of the bridge, hastened 
 to the landing steps ? 
 
 Had he not dashed down them just in time to see the 
 head of his lieutenant rise above the water near one of 
 the buttresses of the bridge ? 
 
 Had he not instantly fired at the object, and received 
 tolerable evidence that his shot had been effective ? 
 
 Had he not hastened to the precise spot where he saw 
 the head disappear beneath the water, and had he not 
 waited there until, in the distance, he had seen it rise 
 again ? 
 
 Had he not fixed his eyes most steadfastly upon it, 
 never allowing them to be removed for an instant, while 
 the waterman rowed with all speed possible ? 
 
 Yes, he had done all this. 
 
 How, then, can the mistake have originated ? 
 
 It was Blueskin who had jumped off the bridge. 
 
 That he would have sworn, for he had heard the familiar 
 accents of his voice. 
 
 Was it not Blueskin he had seen rise from the water ? 
 
 That he could almost have sworn to as well, but yet 
 there was a slight possible, though not probable, doubt. 
 
 That doubt, however, he found upon further thought to 
 be too slight a one to entertain. 
 
 Then, as they chased the swimmer down the Thames, 
 had he ever removed his eyes from him ? 
 
 No. 
 
 They had been fixed during the whole of the time. 
 
 But stop. 
 
 Although he had not removed his eyes, yet the swimmer 
 was for a little while out of his sight. 
 
 Was it then that the mysterious and incomprehensible 
 change had been made ? 
 
 He could scarcely think so, or imagine how it had been 
 done. 
 
 Yet that was the only thing at all reasonable that he 
 could think of to account for it. 
 
 And -with that means he was very far indeed from being 
 satisfied. 
 
 Yet he recollected how the course of the swimmer had 
 been changed after he was a moment out of his sight. 
 
 This looked very strange. 
 
 It seemed to point to that being the time when the 
 substitution was made. 
 
 These thoughts passed through Jonathan's brain with 
 that rapidity of which thought only is capable. 
 ."Throw this fool overboard!" roared he, "and dc 
 not sit there like idiots ! Over with him ! " 
 
 Some lingering trace of life and consciousness must 
 have remained in the bleeding form, for as soon as the 
 inhuman command was uttered, it gave vent to a feeble 
 groan, as though of remonstrance. 
 
 But it was unheeded. 
 
 Wild's janizaries were by no means the most tender- 
 hearted of men. 
 
 Catching hold of the poor wretch by tho head and the 
 heels, they swung him over in a moment. 
 
 A faint cry for help ! 
 
 A heavy splash ! 
 
 And then all was over. The body, like lead, sank down 
 to the muddy bottom of the river. 
 
 " Bow across to those boats," cried Wild, alluding to 
 those lying at anchor off the Surrey side. " He is some- 
 where there, I feel confident. Quick, it is broad daylight 
 now, and he will have great trouble in getting away un- 
 perceived." 
 
 As he spoke, the waterman again put his little vessel in 
 motion, and as ho did so the sun broke forth from the 
 clouds which had until then enshrouded it, and his broad 
 golden rays fell with full force upon the Thames. 
 
 The spectacle was one of rare and picturesque beauty, 
 but neither Wild nor the men he had with him were 
 exactly the persons to appreciate it. 
 
 The boats the thief-taker had mentioned were soon 
 reached, and a most vigorous search made a./iong them. 
 
 Of course, Wild would not have had the time to search 
 every boat at moorings himself, but the alarm quickly com- 
 municated itself from one of the closely-packed vessels to 
 the other ; and the inmates of each, on their own respon- 
 sibility, diligently searched the one they occupied with 
 every wish to unkennel the fugitive, whom Jonathan 
 described as a murderer, and for whose apprehension a 
 reward of fifty pounds would be given. 
 
 Stimulated by the prospect of possessing this sum, the 
 search was prosecuted by every one with the greatest 
 vigour; and though no one was found, Jonathan was 
 satisfied that Blueskin was in that locality. 
 
 This left him with the disagreeable conviction on bis 
 mind that he had got clear off. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXIV. 
 
 BLACKFRIARS-BRIDGE IS REGAINED BY WILD, WHO 13 
 AGAIN DISAPPOINTED, TOR HIS PRISONER AND THK 
 GUARD HAVE VANISHED. 
 
 "Where to now, sir?" asked the waterman. "Shall I 
 put you ashore now ?'' 
 " Ya— ah !'
 
 ISO 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " I say, shall I put you ashore ?" 
 
 One of the janizaries nudged the waterman to he quiet. 
 
 He was sufficiently quick of apprehension to take the 
 hint. 
 
 Wild was thoughtful. 
 
 He did not wish to so readily relinquish his search for 
 Blueskin, who, doubtless, was somewhere very close at 
 hand ; but, on the other side, he did not relish the idea of 
 Jack Sheppard remaining so long upon Blackfriars-bridge 
 in no better custody than two of his men. 
 
 lie knew, from experience, what a very slippery cus- 
 tomer Jack was, and there was the dread at his heart that 
 he had taken advantage of his long absence to make his 
 escape ; for it must be understood that his little trip down 
 the river, and subsequent search among the vessels, had 
 occupied a considerable portion of time. 
 
 The morning was now far advanced, and the great hustle 
 in the streets had begun. 
 
 And, so much against his inclination as it was, Jonathan 
 determined to retrace his steps, and, if possible, make sure 
 of one of the two prisoners at least. 
 
 Nothing so much vexed Wild as to be defeated, no 
 matter in what it was, and on the present occasion he was 
 more put about than usual, for from the moment he had 
 learned that Blueskin had recovered from what he fully 
 believed to be his death-wound, he determined to lose no 
 pains in hunting him to death. 
 
 And when he thought his object was all but accom- 
 plished — when, if there had been any present to bet upon 
 the affair, the odds would all have been on his side — lo ! in 
 a most mysterious and unaccountable manner, his prey 
 eludes his grasp. 
 
 " Curse you, ' he said, as he sat down in the stern- 
 sheets of the boat. " Why, in the devil's name, don't you 
 row me back to Blackfriars? 
 
 Now, had the waterman been as conversant with Jona- 
 than's sweet ways as the two janizai-ies were, he would 
 have rowed on in silence, and as fast as he was able. 
 
 But he was not versed in the thief-taker's little eccen- 
 tricities of disposition, so, as any one naturally would do 
 under the circumstances, he repiied, that he was waiting 
 for his instructions. 
 
 " Ya-ah ! " 
 
 This was the second time the boatman had heard Wild 
 utter this particularly ferocious and wild-animal-like 
 reply, and he hardly knew what to make of it. 
 
 Did it mean an affirmative or a negative ? 
 
 "A thousand curses!" roared Jonathan. "Do you 
 mean to stay here dallying all day ? Row me back to 
 Blackfriars'-bridge, or I'm d — d if I don't lift you over- 
 board ! Bow, curse you ! Bow, and break your back, for 
 aught I care ! " 
 
 Muttering something in a low tone between his teeth, 
 the waterman plied his oars, intent upon getting rid of his 
 troublesome fare as soon as possible, and praying that he 
 might never have the ill-luck to be hailed by him again. 
 
 Crossing his arms moodily over his breast, and looking 
 down at his feet, with an angry scowl upon his features, 
 Jonathan waited impatiently for the journey to be com- 
 pleted. 
 
 The tide, however, was now against them, so that, in 
 spite of the desperate exertions of the rower, they made 
 but little headway. 
 
 Still they did progress, and the boatman, by going in a 
 diagonal direction, overcame, in a great measure, the 
 resistance of the tide. 
 
 At length, to the inexpressible satisfaction of all parties, 
 the landing-place at Blackfriars was reached. 
 
 The waterman guided his boat close to the steps, and 
 Jonathan and his two satellites got out. 
 
 Wild was hastening away, oblivious of the fact that he 
 had given the man nothing for his time and trouble. 
 
 " Waterman, please," he said. " Don't forget the 
 waterman." 
 
 The thief- taker turned round. 
 
 " How much ? " he asked, gruffly. 
 
 " Six shillings, Mr. Wild, if you please." 
 
 " Then send in your — ha ! ha ! — account to the— ha ! ha ! 
 —Secretary of State, and he — ha ! ha ! — will pay j-ou. Or," 
 Jonathan added, delighting in the look of blank dismay 
 that was depicted upon the man's face, " or you can call 
 at my house in Newgate-street some time when you're 
 passing— ha ! ha !— and I will pay you. Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " laughed Wild's myrmidons, respectfully, 
 as they followed their master up the steps. 
 
 The waterman gazed after them until they turned the 
 angle of the bridge. 
 
 " The devil take their wit ! " ho said. " I wish I had 
 known, I'm d— d if I wouldn't have upset the wherry ! 
 And serve them right, for I don't suppose they can 
 swim." 
 
 Having thus vented his just indignation, he turned 
 away. 
 
 But leaving him to put up with his loss in the most philo- 
 sophic way he could, we will follow Jonathan Wild on 
 to the bridge. 
 
 It was tolerably crowded with vehicles and passengers. 
 
 With an uneasy feeling at his heart, he strove to look 
 first to the right and then to the left. 
 
 But though he scanned attentively every moving object 
 within sight, his eyes rested not upon what they sought. 
 
 With scarcely less uneasiness, his men looked up and 
 down the road, trusting that they might see some signs of 
 their companions. 
 
 They trembled when they found they were nowhere in 
 sight. 
 
 Jonathan's anger would be dreadful. 
 
 And when in one of those moods, he always took revenge 
 upon whoever might be nearest to him. 
 
 So they felt their hearts turn cold within them, and 
 experienced that uncomfortable sensation produced by 
 intense fright. 
 
 But this time they alarmed themselves needlessly, for 
 Jonathan was seized with a new thought. 
 
 " Newgate," he said. " Yes, they have taken him to 
 Newgate! Quick, follow me ! To Newgate! to Newgate! 
 They would not think it safe to keep him so long in the 
 streets, and so have taken him there. Perhaps it is best, 
 perhaps it is best." 
 
 Thus muttering to himself, Jonathan bustled along the 
 pavement leading over the bridge. 
 
 But this mode of progression was too slow for his im- 
 patience. 
 
 The people on the footpath hindered him, although they 
 made way for him with the utmost rapidity. 
 
 He looked behind him, and saw an empty hackney- 
 coach approaching him. 
 
 " Hold ! " he cried. " Drive me to Newgate ! " 
 
 This was to the driver, who brought his horses to a 
 standstill. 
 
 "Get in!" 
 
 This was to his men. 
 
 All three then scrambled into the coach as fast as they 
 were able. 
 
 " Half-a-guinea!" roared the thief-taker, projecting his 
 ugly head out of the window, " half-a-guinea for your 
 fare if you drive fast. Half-a-guinea, I say!" 
 
 As this was only about six times his proper fare, the 
 jarvey cried — 
 
 "All right, your honour! I'll have you there in no 
 time. Half-a-guinea! Oh! lor!" 
 
 The descent of the bridge was just at that moment 
 reached ; and so, by dint of lashing the miserable animals 
 vigorously who were harnessed to the clumsy vehicle, he 
 get them to go at a very creditable rate. 
 
 In something less than a quarter of an hour Jonathan 
 reached his destination. 
 
 The jarvey had driven up the Old Bailey from the di- 
 rection of Ludgate-hill, and drew rein opposite to the 
 principal entrance to the prison. 
 
 When Wild said Newgate, he meant his own house in 
 Newgate-street ; but he did not say anything more, for of 
 course he could not tell whether his men had taken their 
 prisoner to one place or the other. 
 
 So be alighted, and, having given the man his fare, 
 knocked, as he alone had the audacity to knock, at the 
 portals of the great city prison. 
 
 The summons was instantly responded to. 
 
 Followed by his men, Jonathan strode into the ves- 
 tibule. 
 
 There were only two men present. One had charge of 
 the door, and the other was seated on a rude kind of 
 bench, placed there principally for their accommodation. 
 
 This man rose, and advanced in a deferential manner 
 towards him. 
 
 " Shall I call the governor? Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Ya-ah!"
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 181 T 
 
 "Yes, sir. In one moment." 
 
 " No !" roared Wild. " I don't want him. How long 
 have you heen on duty here ?" 
 
 " Four hours, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Have my men brought in a prisoner during that time 
 —a young chap, slightly made?" + 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" 
 
 " Curse you ! What is it to you who it is ! I asked you 
 if any one had been brought in." 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild. I humbly begs'your pardon, I am sure. 
 But there 's no one been brought in while I 've been on 
 duty, except an old man for an assault." 
 
 " You are quite sure of that, eh ?" 
 
 " Quite, Mr. Wild, and Bill here will colerate what I 
 say, because he's been on duty too." 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild," said the janitor, " there's only Deen an 
 old man brought in this morning." 
 
 " It's Little Newgate, then," muttered Jonathan, as he 
 moved off. 
 
 The two turnkeys made some hideous grimaces behind 
 his back, which, fortunately, the thief-taker did not per- 
 ceive. 
 
 A bare two minutes sufficed to take him to the door of 
 his own domicil. 
 
 He entered. 
 
 He repeated the question, this time with a certainty that 
 it would be replied to in the affirmative. 
 
 But, to his horror, Tonks, who was on the lock, com- 
 municated the startling intelligence that neither Jack nor 
 the two men with whom he had been left in charge had 
 been seen anything of. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXV 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD ENTERS INTO A VERY INTERESTING 
 CONVERSATION WITH JONATHAN'S MEN. 
 
 The current of events, though it has more than once 
 carried us very near Jack Sheppard, yet has drifted us by 
 him, and thus disenabled us from devoting our attention 
 to him, as we should have wished, long ago. 
 
 Our readers, we feel sure, must be deeply anxious to 
 know what befel him after he was left by Jonathan Wild 
 upon the old bridge at Blackfriars. 
 
 Two of that worthy's janizaries had taken firm hold of 
 him, and had received the strictest injunctions to keep 
 guard over him. 
 
 The moment, however, that the thief-taker disappeared 
 round the angle of the bridge, all three, prisoner and 
 captors, animated by one impulse, rushed to one of the 
 recesses in the parapet which happened to be nearest to 
 them. 
 
 Mounting upon the stone seat, they bent over as far as 
 they could without losing their equilibrium, and en- 
 deavoured to pierce the thick white mist, and obtain a 
 glimpse of the river below. 
 
 We have already described the dispersion of the mist 
 immediately after Wild's arrival at the foot of the steps, 
 and then they saw him draw a pistol, take a hasty aim, 
 and pull the trigger. 
 
 In their situation the report of the weapon was some- 
 thing tremendous. 
 
 The smoke, too, ascended, and for a moment hid the 
 scene below from their gaze. 
 
 But they heard the loud cry of pain which followed the 
 report, and Wild's triumphant assertion that he had hit 
 the mark. 
 
 By the time he had uttered it the smoke had cleared 
 away. 
 
 Jack's state of mind can be imagined. 
 
 Fain would he have leaped over the parapet into the 
 river himself, but the two men who held him in their 
 grasp were on the alert to prevent any such intention 
 being carried out. 
 
 Jack made up his mind that this time his friend and 
 companion was no more, and the conviction forced itself 
 upon his notice that he had lost him at the time when he 
 stood most in need of his counsel and assistance. 
 
 Then there was the altercation with the boatman, and, 
 in fine, they witnessed the whole of those occurrences 
 which happened round about the old bridge, and with the 
 details of which the reader has already been made 
 acquainted. 
 
 They watched the boat as far down the river as it was 
 visible, and when it faded frem their sight, the two men 
 looked rather anxiously and curiously at each other to 
 know what they had better do. 
 
 Should they obey Wild's commands literally, and 
 remain where they were until he returned, or should 
 they take their prisoner direct to Newgate-street ? 
 
 Jack was not long in discovering that they had some- 
 thing on their minds. 
 
 What that something was he' knew not, but he trusted 
 to his own acuteness to find it out, and turn the knowledge 
 to his own advantage. 
 
 He could not help observing, though, that, in spite of 
 their indecision about something, they took good care to 
 keep a tight clutch upon him. 
 
 It should be premised that these two men had a very 
 great idea of Jack's prowess. 
 
 Hitherto Jonathan had failed in all that he attempted 
 against him. 
 
 A thing unparalleled. 
 
 It should as well bo borne in mind that there was 
 nothing these men admired so much as true courage, and 
 Jack they had frequently seen exhibit it under such cir- 
 cumstances as would have made the boldest hearted 
 quail. 
 
 But Jack had never done so, and had never failed in 
 coming off victorious. 
 
 " Matthew ! " said one of Jack's captors, at length. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You know Johnny's instructions ? " 
 
 " In course," growled Matthew. " Don't you ? " 
 
 " Don't you be a fool, Mat. You have conned the 
 matter over, I can tell, as well as I have. Now what do 
 you think we had better do ? " 
 
 " What do you think ? " 
 
 " I asked you." 
 
 " Then I think the same as you." 
 
 " Do you ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then we are off to Little Newgate ? " 
 
 "Just so. We can't do wrong, and its a thousand 
 chances if Johnny comes back here first. We'll chance 
 it." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " But you do not ask me," said Jack, with an assump- 
 tion of good humour, as he saw they were about to movo 
 off, " but you don't ask me for my opinion ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said Mat, " that's good." 
 
 " Oh ! very," said the other. 
 
 " I'm glad you think so," said Jack, forcing a laugh. 
 
 "Oh! get out. What do you think we care for your 
 opinion ? " 
 
 M A great deal." 
 
 " Not a bit of it. Now, Jack, look here." 
 
 " I am looking." 
 
 " Just understand that me and Mat don't intend to stand 
 no larks. Do we, Mat ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, Bill, and so I advises him not to try 
 none on ! " 
 
 " Oh ! thank you for nothing ! " replied Jack. " Just 
 wait till I begin." 
 
 " We gives you warning beforehand, that's all, and if 
 you don't like to take it, why the fault's not ours." 
 
 " That's right j but just listen to me." 
 
 " No-no." 
 
 " Then that's not fair. I have let you have your say, 
 «;nd so you ought to let me have mine." 
 
 " We would, Jack, only we know you of old." 
 
 " It's all the same to me," replied their prisoner, "but 
 you would find it much to your own benefit to hearken to 
 what I was going to say." 
 
 " Are you sure of that, Jack ? " asked Matthew. 
 
 " Quite," said Jack. " Now, look here. In the first 
 place, you won't be doing wrong by stopping here, becaus* 
 I heard Jonathan give you orders to do so. ' 
 
 " That's true, to begin with." 
 
 " Of course it is, and so all I am going to tell you will 
 be true." 
 
 " Go on, then. If you're long-winded I shant listen ! " 
 
 " I want to say a great deal, and you needn't listen 
 without you like.
 
 182 
 
 BLUESKLN: A BOMANCB. 
 
 " Oh ! go on, Jack," growled Bill, " you'll waste all the 
 blessed time disputing afore you begin." 
 
 " Thon let us sit down on this stone seat," said Shep- 
 pard, " and wait for Wild's return, and while we are sitting 
 and waiting, what's to hinder us from having a little com- 
 fortable talk ? 
 
 " Nothink at all." ^ 
 
 " Sit down, then." 
 
 Accordingly all three repaired to one of those recesses 
 in the bridge, which we have before mentioned, and here 
 they sat down, Jack Sheppard occupying the centre 
 position, with Bill on his right hand and Mat on his left. 
 
 It was only fear of their master, the thief-taker, that 
 made them keep such a tight grasp upon him as they did. 
 In their hearts they both admired and liked him, and 
 would have been glad to give him a chance of escape, if it 
 could have been clone with safety to themselves. 
 
 Jack cleared his throat. 
 
 He had no idea what he was going to say to his jailers, 
 and he had no time left him for consideration. 
 
 " Of course," he began, " you understand that Blueskin 
 and Jonathan Wild are deadly enemies, and that they will 
 never again hold the same relative positions as they once 
 did." 
 
 " It strikes me very forcibly," said Mat, "that Mr. Wild 
 will put an end to his enmity before he comes back, for he 
 has sworn to take his life at the first opportunity, and 
 you know when Jonathan Wild says a thing he always 
 does it." 
 
 " Pho — pho ! Don't you mind him. Now, I don't 
 mind letting you into a secret." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " That leap into the Thames was all planned before 
 hand." 
 
 " The deuce it was ! " 
 
 " Yes, and what is more, Blueskin is sure to get off." 
 
 " Is that a part of the plan, too ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " But I don't see " 
 
 " And I shant tell you any more to help you, but you 
 can take my word for this, he will get off." 
 
 " You are not joking, Jack ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then Mr. Wild will be a few savage." 
 
 " Most likely." 
 
 " Then I'll tell you what, Master Jack." 
 
 " Tell it, then." 
 
 " You're very clever, but if Blueskin gets off, I'll take 
 jolly good care you don't, there now." 
 
 " You are quite at liberty. I don't want anything of 
 the sort." 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 "You wouldn't be off, if you had the chance ? " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, Mat. What's the good of going on in 
 this ridiculous way when time is precious, and we have 
 some very important business to discuss ? " 
 
 " Oh ! go on." 
 
 " Well, I will go on, if you'll only let me. That's just 
 what I've been wanting to do all along." 
 
 " Begin, then." 
 
 " Do you understand about Blueskin ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That's all right, and will prepare you for what I am 
 going to say next. You quite understand that Blueskin 
 will escape from Wild in the river, let him do what he 
 will, because you see, he has a plan that will do it." 
 
 " But you told us all that before." 
 
 This was very true. 
 
 _ But Jack's invention was not fertile enough to enable 
 him to concoct a plausible story on so short a notice, and 
 so, as the reader has seen, he strove all he could to delay 
 commencing. 
 
 All of a sudden, however, and just as the patience of the 
 two men was quite exhausted, an idea sprang into Jack's 
 mind. A 
 
 It matured itself instantly. 
 
 Not only would it, if successful, answer his first purpose, 
 but also prove of much future benefit to him. 
 
 What it was will be very quickly seen, for he proceeded 
 to unfold it to Mat and Bill, as they respectively called 
 themselves, without delay. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVL 
 
 A VERT STARTLING PROPOSITION IS MADE BY JACK 
 SHEPPARD TO MATTHEW FLOOD AND BILL BLEWITT. 
 
 " You must have noticed," began Jack, " that, now I have 
 come to the point, I hardly know how to express myself ; 
 but I have resolved not to let anything of that sort stand 
 in the way, but speak out at once." 
 
 " By far the best plan." 
 
 "I am glad you think so, because I want more par- 
 ticularly to talk about Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " And yourselves, too." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I mean with respect to your positions under him." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " What sort of a master do you find him." 
 
 " Very middling as to that." 
 
 " Very bad, you mean," said Jack. 
 
 " Well, very bad." 
 
 " I can see that. It's a mystery to me how you put np 
 with his brutality." 
 
 " We are obliged." 
 
 "Not a bit of it!" 
 
 " But I say we are ! " 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Why, he can tuck any of us up at Tyburn any session 
 he pleases, and so we are compelled to bear his bad temper 
 as well as we can." 
 
 " A fig for Tyburn ! " 
 
 " Indeed ! You don't know what it is ! " 
 
 " I do ! It don't frighten me in the least ! " 
 
 " I believe that, Jack ! Ah ! I wish I had got your 
 pluck ! " 
 
 " Pho — pho ! It's nothing ! But I have got a proposal 
 to make to you." 
 
 " Make it, then ! " 
 
 " Don't be startled ! " 
 
 " Let us hear it ! " 
 
 " What do you say to leaving Jonathan's service ? n 
 
 " Leaving Jonathan's service ? " 
 
 " Yes ' " 
 
 " Can't be done ! " 
 
 "Pho-pho!" 
 
 " You must be mad to think of such a thing ! " 
 
 " It's you that's mad ! Jonathan is only a man, though 
 you would fain make him something more. But take my 
 advice. Defy him ! " 
 
 " Defy him ! " 
 
 " Yes, and then his power is at an end. It ceases from 
 that very moment ! Don't you think so ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Look at myself! I defied him ! " 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " And who has got the best of it ? " 
 
 "You." 
 
 "Of course!" 
 
 " But you are one of a thousand ! " 
 
 " If you choose to think so, I am. But you try it, and 
 you will find yourselves the same." 
 
 " I doubt it ! " 
 
 " But you haven't quite heard what I was going to 
 propose. You understand, of course, that Blueskin and 
 myself are united to make common cause against Jonathan 
 Wild ! " 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " Hitherto we have come off first-rate, when you take 
 all things into consideration, have we not ? " 
 
 " You certainly have." 
 
 " Then, just look here, if us two can do what we have, 
 by ourselves, mind you, what do you think we could do if 
 there was four of us ?" 
 
 " Four of you ? " 
 
 " Yes, Skit. Double the number. What do you think 
 we could do ? " 
 
 '' I don't know." 
 
 " Why, it's plain enough. Wo should do twice as much, 
 and then, where would Jonathan be then ? " 
 
 This was rather an unanswerable question, so the two 
 men remained silent. 
 
 " Ho would be nowhere," continued Ja-ck, triumphantly. 
 "Nowhere. He wouldn't daro to show his face to us."
 
 BLT/ESKIN : A ROMANCE, 
 
 183 
 
 " What are you driving at, Jack ? " 
 
 " Can't you see ? " 
 
 " Not exactly, and you had better go on explanating." 
 
 " I will do so, because you have so far listened to me ; 
 and so I feel emboldened to make the proposition in plain 
 words." 
 
 " Ay, that's tho way to do it. We shall understand you 
 then." 
 
 "Very good. Then, Matthew and William — what's 
 your other names ? " 
 
 " It don't matter." 
 
 " It will be best to tell them." 
 
 " Mine, then, is Matthew Flood." > 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And mine William Blewitt." 
 
 " I know your name well." 
 
 " Do you ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and you, Matthew, if I recollect right, have got 
 a bit of a grudge against Jonathan ? " 
 
 " You niay say that." 
 
 " But you would be nearer the mark," interrupted 
 Blewitt, " if you said Jonathan had got a bit of a grudge 
 against him.' 
 
 " Oh ! that's it." 
 
 " Rather different you see." 
 
 " Oh ! very different ; and being different, is so much 
 the better." 
 
 " How do you make that out ? " 
 
 " In this way. In plain words my proposal amounts to 
 this : Blueskin and myself set up against Jonathan Wild. 
 Will you join us ? " 
 
 " Join you ? " 
 
 "Yes ; be on our side. If you make up your minds to 
 do so, take my word for this, you will have all the advan- 
 tages you at present enjoy, without any of the disagree- 
 ables." 
 
 " It is a serious matter." 
 
 " I know that; but you don't seem to see that if you 
 do as I wish you cannot, by any possibility, make your 
 position worse, while you have all the chance of making it 
 better." 
 
 " There's something in that." 
 
 " Everything. Jonathan Wild will never be what he 
 has been. He has reached the top of the hill, and now he 
 will begin to go down, and, mark my words, if he don't 
 descend a great deal quicker than he went up." 
 
 " But how do you know that he has reached the top P " 
 
 " I will tell you. Jonathan Wild would never have been 
 what he has, and is, had it not been for Blueskin." 
 
 "Blueskin?" 
 
 " Yes ; and now he has set upagainst him, down he will 
 go. Did you ever notice that while Blueskin was with 
 him all went well ? " 
 
 " No, I never noticed it ; but now you come to speak of 
 it, it certainly did." 
 
 " And how have things gone since they parted ? " 
 
 "Better." 
 
 "Better?" 
 
 "Yes, better." 
 . " But how ? " 
 
 "In all ways." 
 
 "You are making a great mistake, my friend. He 
 may have made a few lucky strokes, but they ought, 
 instead of inspiring you with confidence, to fill you with 
 doubt." 
 
 The two men were staggered by the cool, deliberate 
 way in which Jack spoke. 
 
 They hesitated. 
 
 There was nothing but the fear of their lives to tempt 
 them to remain in the service of the thief-taker. 
 
 And as Jack had very truly said, they could not make 
 their position any worse than it was, while they might 
 make it better. 
 
 They would have consented at once, but the great awe 
 and dread of their master in which they stood, made them 
 hold back. 
 
 Jack saw that they were wavering in the balance, and 
 that a very little thing indeed would turn the scale. 
 
 His liberty, and probably his life, depended upon their 
 decision ; so, as may be expected, he looked for it rather 
 anxiously. 
 
 He was impatient, too, though he did not deem it politic 
 io show it. He every moment expected to Bee Jonathan 
 
 make his appearance, and then all his hopes would be 
 dashed to the ground. 
 
 From where they sat on the stone bench in the recess, 
 they were able, by turning their heads a little, to see down 
 the river as far as London bridge, although that structure, 
 owing to its distance, was only dimly discernible. 
 
 He could see nothing of Wild's boat returning as yet, 
 but then it was as likely as not he was returning by land. 
 
 So he determined to press his suit yet closer. 
 
 " Have you considered ?" he asked. "Don't answer has- 
 tily, and without you have made up your minds to abide 
 by your decision. I have plans under hand, which, in con- 
 junction, must prove to be profitable. We are in want of 
 two to join us, and you have had the first offer ; if you 
 don't like to accept it, we can look out for some one 
 else!" 
 
 " But you seem to forget " 
 
 " That I am your prisoner. No, I don't. That gives 
 me no uneasiness at all ; for if Jonathan was to load me 
 with chains, and put me in the deepest and strongest cell 
 in Newgate, it would not hold me ; I should be sure to 
 get out." 
 
 ™The easy, off-hand assurance with which these words 
 were uttered is perfectly indescribable. 
 
 But it had a great effect upon the two men. 
 
 " There is only one thing, Jack," they said, after a 
 little pause, " that we want to assure ourselves of." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " Why, that all you have been telling and representing 
 to us is quite right ; because, if it is " 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " I don't 6ay what ! but is it true ? " 
 
 " Every word of it." 
 
 " I believe you, Jack ; and so I for one say, I 'm with 
 you ; and I know Blewitt will say the same." 
 
 " I. do just the same. If what you say is right, we are 
 with you." 
 
 " Depend upon it. and let me assure you that, with 
 Blueskin as our leader, we shall be able to set Jonathan 
 at defiance. Our policy will be this — not to interfere with 
 him without he interferes with us." 
 
 "That's only fair!" 
 
 " It is reasonable ; and if the villain seeks an encounter 
 with us, his overthrow is certain. Are you with us ?" 
 
 " We are ; and we should have said so long ago, only we 
 wanted to try you, and see that all was right. We were 
 sick and tired of Wild's service, and were studying how to 
 leave it best. So we are with you!" 
 
 They released their hold upon him as they spoke. 
 
 " Hurrah !" said Jack, as he felt himself free. " Come 
 on, my friends ; and you will find yourselves more than 
 a match for Jonathan Wild ! " 
 
 "I'll hang him !" said Flood, malignantly. "I have 
 sworn it, and I will keep my oath." 
 
 Jonathan had sworn to hang him. We shall see how 
 the oaths were kept. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS DISCOVERS THE SECRET EXIT FROM 
 HER CHAMBER, AND PERFORMS A MOST DESPERATE 
 ACHIEVEMENT. 
 
 Frugal as the meal was of which Edgworth Bess partook, 
 yet she felt all the better for it. 
 
 She was stronger, and not so dejected as she had 
 been. 
 
 Consequently she was able to look about her with 
 greater calmness, and reason a little upon the events 
 which had lately happened. 
 
 There was much to perplex and baffle her. 
 
 Two circumstances particularly did so. 
 
 The reader can guess what they were. 
 
 One was the mysterious manner in which the clock had 
 struck. 
 
 What did it mean ? 
 
 She had only one answer to the question, and that was 
 that it was a signal of some sort. 
 
 But a signal of or for what ? 
 
 There she was baffled, and unable to proceed. 
 
 Then there was the other circumstance. 
 
 The mysterious and inexplicable manner in which the 
 colonel had first acted and then disappeared.
 
 184 
 
 BLTJESK1N : A EOMANCE. 
 
 But for bis behaviour she was not particularly at a loss 
 to account. She had a pretty shrewd idea of what it 
 meant. 
 
 He had raised his arm, uttered the ejaculation, and 
 pointed to the window as he did, for the sole purpose of 
 distracting her attention from himself. 
 
 He succeeded in his attempt, and he took advantage 
 of the moment that her back was turned. 
 
 But why did he slam the door of the bedroom ? 
 
 That, to her, seemed to indicate that he had passed 
 through it, and had done so in order to hinder her from 
 entering it. 
 
 But she had made a most careful and minute exami- 
 nation of the two outer chambers, and she felt sure there 
 was no concealed mode of exit there. 
 
 For, as she reasonably enough considered, it must be 
 some easy mode, or he would not have been able to leave 
 the apartment so quickly as he had. 
 
 Then she set herself to think of some other motive for 
 his closing the door violently. 
 
 Was it done for the purpose of misleading her ? 
 
 Perhaps so. 
 
 The concealed exit might be in that very room — easy 
 of discovery if its existence was suspected. Had he, with 
 calculating forethought, reckoned upon throwing her off 
 the scent ? 
 
 From what she had already seen of the man — and 
 woman's quickness in reading man's character is pro- 
 verbial — she thought this must be it, and the more she 
 pondered, the stronger grew the conviction in her mind. 
 
 Then, on the heels of the other, followed another thought, 
 which really seemed the most plausible of all. 
 
 Assuming that there was the secret exit from the 
 chamber. 
 
 That exit would most probably be accomplished by a 
 panel in the wainscot. 
 
 That panel would close with a spring. 
 
 When it shut there would be a faint snap. 
 
 Was it to conceal that faint snap that the colonel had 
 Blammed the door ? 
 
 Was it his motive to make the greater sound drown the 
 less ; for if the snap was heard, it would go a long way 
 towards fixing the exact locality of it : the piece of know- 
 ledge most requisite to keep from his prisoner. 
 
 Then, pursuing the same train of thought, she further 
 asked herself whether it was not from the last two causes 
 combined ? 
 
 She felt almost sure of it. 
 
 Endowed with a sudden and momentary hope, she 
 sprang to her feet. 
 
 She listened. 
 
 All was still, save the dull, hollow murmur of the waves 
 upon the beach, and the palpitation of her heart, which 
 had increased to a most painful and unbearable extent. 
 
 Her agitation was excessive, and as she considered it was 
 without adequate cause, she tried to shake it off, and to a 
 certain extent succeeded. 
 
 Having done so, she, in a methodical manner, began 
 the examination of the room. 
 
 Carefully she felt over the whole surface of all the 
 panels in the apartment, in the hope of meeting with some 
 slight obstruction. 
 
 _ But in this she was disappointed, although the opera- 
 tion was very carefully performed, and took up a great 
 deal of time. 
 
 Then, with her knuckles, she commenced sounding the 
 panels in different places, in order to judge, by the dif- 
 ference in the sound, whether there was a hollow space 
 behind any one of them. 
 
 Presently she came to that angle in which the door 
 opening into the bed-chamber was placed. 
 
 She knocked. 
 
 The sound produced, though not what could exactly be 
 called hollow, was yet very different to that which she had 
 previously elicited. 
 
 She knocked again. 
 
 Then she tried to shake the panel. 
 
 And was successful. 
 
 Yes, it was evidently loose in its frame. 
 
 And now it should be explained that, as you walked out 
 of the outer room into the bed-chamber, the knob of the 
 door was on the right hand side of it, and that when you 
 turned the handle to open it, you had to pull the door 
 towards you, not push it. 
 
 The consequence of this was, then, when the door was 
 wide open, it rested against the paneling, for wo have 
 before stated its position to be in the angle of tho room. 
 
 Then Bess, with an acumen which she could hardly 
 have been supposed to possess, came to the conclusion 
 that the colonel, finding the door open, it of course 
 impeded his retreat, and so he had shut it in the way 
 he had. 
 
 The secret panel was now all but discovered. The only 
 chance of their remaining undiscovered is when there is no 
 suspicion of their presence, but the moment that suspicion 
 is formed, if there is one, it is sure to be found out by any- 
 one taking a little trouble, for they can never be perfectly 
 concealed. 
 
 That there was the secret entrance Bess felt confident, 
 and now, having found the spot, it only remained for her to 
 discover the means of opening it. 
 
 With this end in view she stood upon a chair, and began 
 to feel at the very top of the panel. 
 
 Placing the four fingers of the right hand together, and 
 holding them nearly straight, she moved them in a hori- 
 zontal manner from side to side, thus describing a series 
 of lines, and taking care, as she descended, to leave no 
 space in between them. 
 
 In this way she went slowly down the panel. 
 
 She reached the centre. 
 
 But, up to the. moment of her doing so, her pains had 
 been unrewarded. 
 
 But she did not despair. Already had she met with 
 greater success than ever she had anticipated. 
 
 She got off the chair — for there was no longer any need 
 of it — and renewed her search. 
 
 Lower, lower, lower she went, until she at last thought 
 that the means of opening the secret door were too cun- 
 ningly hidden for her to be able to find them out. 
 
 Then she reached the floor. 
 
 She could scarcely repress a cry of joy when her fingers 
 encountered some little projection. 
 
 She looked down, and felt it more carefully. 
 
 It was a small brass stud, fixed in the panel. 
 
 Her first impulse was to press upon it, but that pro- 
 duced no effect. 
 
 Then she placed her thumb nail against it, and strove 
 to move it first in a lateral, and then in an upward 
 direction. 
 
 As she did this, it went gradually up to the extent of 
 perhaps half an inch. 
 
 This stud, it should be stated, was fixed in the centre of 
 the bottom of the panel, quite close down on to the 
 floor. 
 
 Having done this, she tried to find, by pushing in dif- 
 ferent directions, which way it opened. 
 
 The mode was rather singular. 
 
 When pressing upon the stud, now it was raised, she 
 found the woodwork give way before her. 
 
 Looking up, she saw that there must be hinges fixed in 
 some way to the top part of the panel, which opened just 
 the reverse way that doors do, or as doors would if their 
 hinges were shifted from the side and fixed to the top. 
 
 She pushed further and further, but met with that kind 
 of resistance which a spring would offer, and if she 
 slackened the pressure in the least, it began to close 
 again of its own accord. 
 
 It was so dark on the other side that she could see 
 nothing, and being sure of opening it again without 
 trouble, she allowed it to close. 
 
 In her bedroom there was a small lamp, and this she 
 lighted. 
 
 Then she felt the necessity of pitching upon some 
 object which would counteract the force of the spring, and 
 enable her to keep the door open while she made her 
 explorations. 
 
 When standing upon the chair she had noticed that tho 
 rail at the back was loose. 
 
 She resolved to break this off, and after a few attempts 
 succeeded. 
 
 She was then armed with a piece of beech-wood, about 
 two feet long and nearly two inches square. 
 
 This would answer the purpose she required of it most 
 admirably. 
 
 These arrangements having been completed, she took 
 the lamp in her hand, and went to the corner of the room,
 
 BLCESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 J*5 
 
 [captain howlet orders the execution of the spy.] 
 
 first listening that there was no one close at hand to in- 
 terrupt her. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 She knelt down, and quickly had the panel undone. 
 
 She pressed it as far back as she could, using the piece 
 of wood the back of the chair afforded her for this pur- 
 pose. 
 
 Then, when it had reached its full extent, she carefully 
 lodged it against a projection. 
 
 The door was open. 
 
 A current of cold air came from the aperture, and more 
 than once its force was so great that the lamp was all but 
 extinguished. 
 
 She saved it, however, by shielding it with her hand. 
 
 Then holding it forward, and lying almost on her face, 
 she proceeded to look what kind of place it was the spcret 
 Uoor in the paneling disclosed. 
 
 She uttered an ejaculation of terror ! 
 
 The light of the lamp revealed nothing but the sides of 
 tn abyss, the bare sight of which, and thoughts of the 
 
 N©. 24," 
 
 frightful depth, sent a chill of hon-or through her 
 blood. 
 
 Had she been less careful, what an awful fate would 
 have been hers. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXVIII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS MAKES GOOD USE OF THE SECRET 
 OUTLET TO HER CHAMBER, BUT THE END OF HER 
 PERILS IS NOT YET REACHED. 
 
 There was nothing whatever to indicate the position of 
 suoh a pitfall, and nothing to guard one from falling into 
 it ; and no doubt this was a part of the cleverness of the 
 original contriver, who, in anticipation of some person dis- r 
 covering the secret outlet, determined that they should I 
 not long survive that knowledge. 
 
 Caution — generally, in its extended phase, timidity — I 
 is a prominent characteristic in the mental composition of I 
 nearly all females ; and thus it was Edgworth Bess, dif- 
 
 — ^
 
 186 
 
 BLUESKTN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 fering in no wise from others of her sex, acted in the 
 manner we have described. 
 
 Not for one moment had she expected to make such a 
 discovery as she had ; and coming upon her so unawares 
 as it did, she was obliged to draw back and wait a moment 
 while she recovered herself. 
 
 The peril she had so narrowly escaped unnerved ner, 
 and made her less capable of carrying out her enterprise 
 successfully than she otherwise would have been. 
 
 Nor was what she saw around her at all calculated to 
 reassure her. On the contrary, the gloomy room, with its 
 walls of dark wainscot, now momentarily illuminated 
 by the flickering light, and then left in the deepest 
 shadow, was well calculated to excite superstitious ideas. 
 
 All was very — very still — dreadfully still. It would 
 have been a relief of no mean character if she could have 
 heard some sound to indicate that there were others 
 in the world besides herself, but no sound met her ears. 
 
 Even the roaring of the sea had ceased, or at all events, 
 had become so nearly so, that from her situation she 
 could hear nothing of it. 
 
 Rapidly and painfully did her heart pulsate, and she 
 drew her breath, not in long, healthy suspirations, but 
 in short, quick, uncertain gasps, that sounded more like 
 sighs than aught else. 
 
 Her hand trembled, and the light of the lamp — feeble 
 at the best — was much diminished in brightness, as the 
 motion of her hand was communicated to it. 
 
 It peopled the walls, too, with strange, horrible, moving 
 shadows. 
 
 But, despite the state of alarm and vague apprehension 
 in which the poor girl found herself to be, the idea of how 
 necessary it was for her to calm herself in order to attempt 
 her escape never lost its prominency in her imagination. 
 
 At last, with a vigorous effort of the will, she rose to 
 her feet, and, still retaining the little lamp in her grasp, 
 made an inspection of every part of the chamber. 
 
 This dispersed much of the supernatural dread of she 
 knew not what, which she had experienced, and then she 
 returned to the strange opening in the wall. 
 
 Her contrivance, simple as it was, for overcoming the 
 propensity of the spring, answered admirably. 
 
 Timorously, notwithstanding her determination to be 
 firm, she knelt down again upon the floor, and, resting the 
 weight of her body upon her left-arm, she leaned over the 
 abyss. 
 
 But the lamp was totally inadequate to the task of dis- 
 sipating the darkness with which the pit was filled, and 
 so far from aiding her, it had an opposite effect. 
 
 Unwilling to leave the place until she had thoroughly 
 examined it, for something within her which might, with 
 questionable propriety, he called inspiration, seemed to 
 tell her that, however repulsive it might look, yet it led to 
 freedom. 
 
 Therefore she again laid herself down at full length, 
 with her head and the upper portion of her body actually 
 hanging over the abyss. 
 
 But she steadied herself with her left hand, with which 
 she clutched the sides of the wainscot tightly. 
 
 Her right arm she held quite down the pit-like place, 
 with the tiny light in her hand. 
 
 This she waved about in the endeavour to catch a 
 glimpse of the sides, but, to her bewilderment, there were 
 no traces of sides visible — all was void, empty space; nor 
 had she any apparent means by which she could discover 
 either the depth or the width. 
 
 " But surely," she thought, " there must be something 
 like a wall at the side nearest to me. 1 will try." 
 
 As she spoke, she moved her hand in the direction she 
 had mentioned, fully expecting that it would be as she 
 had said, but in this she was again deceived, for her hand 
 encountered no opposition whatever. 
 
 There could be nothing delusive about it, for when she 
 so held her hand, the light was quite out of sight. 
 
 Such a thing as this was calculated in every way to 
 increase her fears and give tangibility to 
 presages of horror which she had had so much di!, 
 to banish from her mind. 
 
 What land of place it could be which the secret panel 
 disclosed she could form no notion. Conjecture she found 
 to be quite useless. 
 
 . But suddenly, as she still moved her hand, in an anxious 
 and vain attempt to see about her, something came in 
 contact with her hand. 
 
 Although this was just what she expected, or rather was 
 hoping to find, she uttered a cry of dismay, which she 
 found it impossible to repress. 
 
 But this was caused by the singular feel which the 
 object had her hand had casually touched. 
 
 It was soft, yet hard. 
 
 Yielding to the touch, yet firm. 
 
 What could it be ? 
 
 The question was one to which she was incompetent to 
 frame a reply. 
 
 Gathering courage from desperation, for she felt cer- 
 tain, if she dallied much longer, the opportunity of 
 achieving her freedom would be lost, she bent her head 
 lower, in order to look what it was. 
 
 For a moment she saw nothing, and then she perceived 
 the mysterious object which she had touched. 
 
 Her fears were dispelled ih an instant, and she grew 
 quite angry with herself to think that she had been weak 
 enough to entertain them. 
 
 The mysterious object was a rope. 
 
 Yes, a rope, and nothing more. 
 
 But it was of extraordinary thickness, aud knotted in 
 many places. 
 
 Straight down it hung, the end seeming to lose itself in 
 the very bowels of the earth. 
 
 It was attached, in some way which she could not very 
 well make out, to the flooring beneath her. 
 
 The use of this rope seemed obvious. 
 
 It was by its aid that the secret panel was made of 
 service. 
 
 But where did it lead ? 
 
 With what place did it communicate ? 
 
 Was the length of the rope, apparently endless in the 
 imagination, comparatively short in the reality. 
 
 Who could tell ? 
 
 The only means by which she could acquire such know- 
 ledge was to descend by it. 
 
 She shuddered at the idea. 
 
 Was she strong enough to support the weight of her 
 body for any length of time by clinging to a rope ? 
 
 She feared not. 
 
 Already was she a prey to exhaustion. 
 
 But then the remembrance of the terrible scene she had 
 had with Colonel Thorne flashed across her mind, and 
 that seemed to endow her with ten times her ordinary 
 strength. 
 
 No longer did she hesitate. 
 
 Let the rope lead to what place it might — let there be 
 what dangers there might — she would dare all — brave all 
 — anything would be better than remainiug where she 
 was, exposed to such peril as she had been. 
 
 Dominated by these thoughts, she placed the light upon 
 the ground, and then felt for the rope. 
 
 Its position was apparently awkward, but it was not so 
 in reality, and she found herself able, by lowering her 
 body gently, to take hold of it easily. 
 
 She clung to it for dear life. 
 
 The rope swayed from side to side with her weight 
 at first, but it soon steadied itself. 
 
 She looked upwards to the ceiling of the chamber, which 
 she fondly hoped and believed she was about to leave for 
 ever. 
 
 Downwards she dare not trust herself to glance ; and, 
 besides that, she knew that it would be impossible to see 
 a foot below her. 
 
 Had she been able she would have taken the little lamp 
 with her, but she knew she would require the full use of 
 her hands, and she could not see how else she was to 
 carry it. 
 
 Reluctantly, therefore, she left it behind her upon the 
 floor of the room, for she could not but be conscious of the 
 amount of consolation it would be to her upon her perilous 
 journe}'. 
 
 Discarding, however, from her mind all these vain 
 regrets, she began to lower herself down the rope. 
 
 fihe found, after a little while, that it was specially 
 adapted to the purpose to which she was putting it. 
 
 It was just thick enough to grasp comfortably, while, nt 
 about every ten inches, there was a large knot, which 
 afforded a hand as well as a foot-hold. 
 
 Cautiously — very cautiously, and not moving one hand 
 or one foot until she was certain the other was secure 3 the 
 intrepid girl lowered herself down the rope.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 187 
 
 No other courage than that of desperation could have 
 prompted her to the execution of such a feat. 
 
 Down, down — ceaselessly down she went. 
 
 The little light to which she looked up had now dwin- 
 dled down until it was no larger than a star. 
 
 Still there seemed no end to the rope. 
 
 Surrounded as she was by utter darkness, she could 
 form no idea of the place she was in except that she could 
 not divest herself of the idea that it was well-like in 
 shape. 
 
 There can be no doubt that Edgworth Bess would never 
 have attempted to descend by the rope had she not had 
 the conviction firmly implanted in her mind that it was 
 by means of it Colonel Thorne had left her presence. 
 
 It might lead her into his arms, but she trusted that 
 good fortune would so far befriend her as to shield her 
 from him. 
 
 At length, after an apparently endless time, her feet 
 touched something firm, which she quickly enough found 
 to be solid earth. 
 
 Still was she in utter darkness, and so, without ven- 
 turing to move, she held to the rope which she had al- 
 ready began to look upon as a friend. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXIX. 
 
 CAPTAIN HOWLET 
 
 COMMANDS 
 THE SPY. 
 
 THE EXECUTION OF 
 
 What kind of place it was which Edgworth Bess had 
 managed with so much difficulty to reach, and what befel 
 her upon her arrival there, must be deferred to another 
 chapter, as the reader's attention must first be given to 
 that strange scene in the c'averns underneath Colonel 
 Thome's residence, " The Larches." 
 
 It will be recollected that the pirate -band had, with 
 some apparent show of reason, pronounced one of their 
 companions guilty of treachery and being a spy, after 
 which, without in the least regarding his denial of the 
 charge, and protestations of his innocence, they had pro- 
 ceeded to execute very summary justice upon him indeed, 
 by pinioning his arms, placing him upon an inverted 
 barrel, and tying a noose round his neck. 
 
 His death — immediate death — seemed inevitable, but 
 at this crisis the lieutenant, or second in command to the 
 captain, had made his appearance. 
 
 This person, whom the prisoner had addressed by the 
 name of Morgan, desiring to be placed in possession of 
 the facts of the case, had been shown a letter alleged to 
 have been dropped by the prisoner. 
 
 This letter was read, and its character was such as left 
 no reasonable doubt of the truth of the accusation behind ; 
 hut Morgan, deeming the matter important enough to be 
 brought before their much-dreaded captain, had by some 
 means or other, known only to himself, gone to the side of 
 the cave and summoned him. 
 
 Then, as we have described, there was a brief interval 
 of silence, which would have been quite perfect had it not 
 been for the miserable being whose position was truly so 
 awful a one. 
 
 But after the lapse of a few minutes, thei'e advanced 
 ] from the darkest portion of the cavern a tall and com- 
 I manding figure, which, when it reached the light, pre- 
 sented an appearance most dreadful to behold. 
 
 It was a man of gigantic stature, but instead of the head 
 of a human being, he bad the head of a large white owl. 
 The appearance of it was grotesquely hideous. 
 To the wild, lawless spirits, however, who were there 
 assembled, it must have been familiar, for with one 
 accord they cried — 
 
 " The Howlet ! the Howlet ! Three cheers, mates, for 
 our brave captain, the Howlet ! Down with the spy ! 
 Slay him ! Kill the traitor to our captain ! Three cheers 
 for Captain Howlet ! " 
 
 These, and many other similar vociferations, greeted 
 him. 
 
 How long they would have continued is highly proble- 
 matical. 
 As it was, they received a sudden check. 
 The captain, as he had been called, slowly elevated his 
 right hand. 
 The action was noted. 
 A dead silence ensued. 
 The effect was like magic- 
 
 Morgan approached, and, with a deferential air, ad- 
 dressed himself to the strange being, Captain Howlet. 
 
 The reader must already be aware who and what this 
 individual is— at all events he has been shown in both 
 characters, and so it will be folly to attempt to keep up 
 any mystery concerning him. 
 
 In order, however, that there be no mistake — no mis- 
 understanding, we may as well in this place briefly say 
 that the information contained in the spy's letter was 
 perfectly correct. Colonel Thorne, the envied wealthy 
 gentleman, and the everywhere dreaded Captain Howlet 
 were one and the same person. 
 
 It does not need any great effort on the part of the 
 mental faculties to imagine how it would be tolerably 
 easy to maintain two such characters in such a manner as 
 to avert all suspicion. 
 
 The device of the owl's head, which was merely a 
 curiously-fashioned head-dress, was for tlie purpose of 
 surrounding the pirate-chief with more attributes of the 
 wild and wonderful than had been imputed to him. 
 
 It certainly gave him a most horrible and unnatural 
 appearance, and, to any one who had not seen or heard of 
 it, would be productive of the utmost terror. 
 
 As we have hinted in another place, the pirate crew 
 were armed with head-dresses of a similar kind, but these 
 they generally laid aside when in the security of their 
 cave, and resumed them only when on board. 
 
 But Captain Howlet was very rarely indeed seen 
 among his men without this appendage, and on this occa- 
 sion, when their was no actual reason for so doing, he had 
 assumed it. 
 
 One thing only remains unexplained, and that is the 
 precise means by which Lieutenant Morgan had summoned 
 him. 
 They were very simple. 
 
 Attached to the bell upon which the hours were struck 
 by the clock withiu the belfry above " The Larches " was 
 a hammer, the handle of which was attached to a piece of 
 wire, that, passing down the strange, well-like place, 
 which Edgworth Bess had with so much peril descended, 
 terminated in a large wooden handle in the recess, into 
 which we stated he made his way. 
 
 The nine strokes signified that something of a very nn - 
 usual and important character had occurred, and that his 
 immediate presence was necessary. 
 
 With the fear, then, at his heart that he was menaced 
 by a danger of a more than ordinary magnitude, Colonel 
 Thorne had hastily left the apartment in which he had 
 immured Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He had adopted the expedient of pointing through the 
 window in order to distract her attention from himself, 
 and succeeded in his object. 
 
 Then, taking instant advantage of the opportunity 
 afforded him, he had slammed the inner door, passed 
 through the secret panel, and, by means of- the rope, 
 reached the caverns below. 
 
 Ere he entered upon the turbulent and awful scene he 
 paused a moment, and taking his owl's head-dress from a 
 kind of shelf upon which he was accustomed to keep it, 
 he had donned it. 
 
 Amid the silence, then, that succeeded his holding up 
 his hand, Moi'gan spoke — 
 
 " There is treachery here, captain," he said.. " Black 
 and dangerous treachery ! " 
 
 Captain Howlet made a movement with his hand, which 
 signified " pi-oeeed," and that was the sole reply he chose 
 to give. 
 
 But he did not need to be told who was the suspected 
 man. A glance would serve to show any one that. 
 
 He folded his arms, however, and looked steadfastly at 
 him. 
 The eyes in the owl's head had a truly horrible aspect. 
 They were formed of dark-coloured, yet transparent, 
 glass. 
 
 They were large, round, and prominent, like the real 
 eyes of this strange nocturnal bird. 
 
 Through these lenses, for such they were, the captain 
 could see with great distinctness. 
 
 He never removed them from the man on the barrel. 
 The men were going to string him up, captain, and 
 give him a short shrift, but I happened to come, and when 
 I heard the particulars, I thought the matter was impor- 
 tant enough to call you." 
 
 " Good, Morgan ! " said Captain Howlet, in strange
 
 I — 
 
 185 
 
 BLUESKIX ; A HOMjLN'CE. 
 
 What 
 
 muffled tones, from behind his singular mask 
 kind of treachery is it ? " 
 
 "You shall hear, captain ; but shall I tell you, or call 
 the men forward, and question them before your face ? " 
 
 " Question them," said the captain. " There can then 
 be no mistake." 
 
 " Certainly not. Batson ! " 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 The man who had before spoken again stood forward, 
 and, folding his arms, awaited his interrogations. 
 
 " Is that man on the barrel the one you suspect of 
 treason ? " 
 
 " He is, your honour." 
 
 " His name is Will Ogden, is it not ? " 
 
 " I don't know for that. Sometimes he calls himself I 
 Will Ogden, and sometimes Tom Drotchel, and it appears ! 
 his name is neither the one nor the other." 
 
 " Well, let that pass for the present. We will call him 
 Will Ogden." 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 "What was the first suspicious thing ycu noticed ? " 
 
 " As he walked across the cave, w6 saw a paper drop to 
 the ground." 
 
 " From his person ? " 
 
 " I am quite sure of that, your honour." 
 
 " What next ? " 
 
 " As I said before, w6 thought it was a love-letter, or 
 something of that sort, so I crept quietly after him, and 
 picked it up without his knowing, for we meant to tease 
 him a bit over it." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I couldn't read the letter, so I gave it to Joe Dudley." 
 
 " Now, Dudley, stand forward." 
 
 In obedience to this command, the man 6tood forward 
 who had read the letter, which he did again, but as it has 
 already been placed before the reader, it is scarcely worth 
 while to repeat it. 
 
 At last the epistle was finished. 
 
 By the manner alone in which he received this com- 
 munication, it was apparent how much the pirate captain 
 was surprised at it. The secret there mentioned he fancied 
 was unknown to any of his lawless band. 
 
 He was furious. 
 
 But the desire to know more enabled him to control 
 himself. The traitor he could deprive of life at any moment 
 he thought proper. 
 
 " To whom is the letter addressed ? " he asked. 
 
 Joe Dudley turned it over in his hand. 
 
 The thought of looking on the back for the name of the 
 person for whom the letter was intended, had not occurred 
 to him . 
 
 It was there, however, and, to the surprise of all pre- 
 sent, he read — 
 
 " Mr. Jonathan Wild, Newgate-street." 
 
 CHAPTER CXXX. 
 
 COLONEL THORNE DISCOVERS EDGWORTH BESS, BUT 
 MEETS WITH AN INTERRUPTION TO HIS LEAVING THE 
 CAVERN. 
 
 Probably there was no one present in the cave upon 
 whom this announcement took so great an effect as 
 Captain Howlet. 
 
 The fame of the great thief-taker, unusual as it was, 
 had failed to penetrate the intricacies of those old Kentish 
 caverns, and to the pirate crew his name was almost, if 
 not quite, unknown. 
 
 But it was not so with their captain. 
 
 In his character ot Colouel Thome, and during his resi- 
 dence in London, he had both seen and heard of this 
 extraordinary man. 
 
 He well knew how much his interference was to be 
 dreaded — he had seen it exemplified in others. 
 
 And there was pretty positive evidence before him that 
 he was acquainted with all his secrets. 
 
 Tearing off the strange head-dress which he wore, and 
 casting it upon the ground, he cried — 
 
 " Give me the letter — I must see it ! Give it to me ! " 
 
 With a trembling hand, Joe Dudley presented the scrip 
 of paper to him. 
 
 There could be no doubt whatever about the matter. 
 
 As his eyes rested upon it, his face assumed an aspect 
 inore terrible than any of his crew had ever beheld upon 
 I it. 
 
 He drew the long, heavy sword which he carried by his 
 side, and, rushing forward, held it threateningly before 
 the traitor's face. 
 
 " Speak ! " he cried, hoarsely. " Confess ! " 
 
 " I do— I do ! " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " I am innocent." 
 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 " I am innocent ! I am innocent, captain ! The letter 
 did not fall out of my pocket, or, if it did, it was placed 
 there by some one." 
 
 " Beware ! " said the Howlet ; " I have long had my 
 suspicions of you. You are no sailor, I am certain, though 
 such, when you entered the band, you represented your- 
 self to be. Unless you would quit life by the most linger- 
 ing torments, confess all ! " 
 
 Spare my life, then, captain. Spare my life ! " 
 
 " I shall make no promise." 
 
 " I will tell all— I will tell all ! " 
 
 " You have acknowledged your guilt. Now speak. It 
 will remain for me to decide afterwards whether your life 
 is to be spared." 
 
 " I will, captain." 
 
 " Go on, then." 
 
 " I — I wrote that letter ! " 
 
 " You did ? " 
 
 " Yes, captain ; but I didn't send it — I didn't mean to 
 send it." 
 
 " Ha ! would you trifl6 with your life ? Up with him ! " 
 
 The men needed no second bidding. 
 
 The spy was off his feet in a moment. 
 
 He kicked and plunged convulsively, but his struggles 
 were in vain. 
 
 He grew black in the face. 
 
 In a few moments all was over. 
 
 He was a corpse. 
 
 A marling-spike was stuck into the ground, and th6 
 extremity of the rope tied tightly round it. 
 
 Then the dead body was allowed to swing to and fro, as 
 a warning to those who might have contemplated a similar 
 act. 
 
 Captain Howlet was satisfied. 
 
 " My mates," he said, for, with that policy for which he 
 was so remarkable, he endeavoured to conciliate and be on 
 good terms with his crew, " it is a good thing chance 
 favoured us so far as to let us know that villain's designs. 
 Who knows but that another hour or two might have seen 
 that letter on its way to the person to whom it was 
 addressed, and then, if he had received it, there would 
 have been no quarter for any of us." 
 
 A fierce murmur followed his words. 
 
 " However, that danger's over now. Here is the letter. 
 It will never be sent now. Look." 
 
 As he spoke, Captain Howlet hehi the paper in the 
 flame, of one of the many oil-lamps that were placed 
 around the cavern, and in a moment it was consumed. 
 
 " Keep yourselves ready," he said, " for I intend to 
 cruize off again directly. This will hardly be a safe place 
 for us just at present, and it is best to avoid danger of dis- 
 covery. Cut the traitor down, and bury him somewhere 
 out of sight. I will begone, but only above. Morgan, if 
 anything occurs, signal me directly." 
 
 " Ay — ay ! captain." 
 
 " Keep a sharp look out, and be prepared. Not that I 
 am much afraid, because I think we have been lucky 
 enough to nip the evil in the bud." 
 
 Having thus spoken, Captain Howlet crossed the caveru 
 in the directiou of the low dark archway through which 
 he had entered it. 
 
 As he neared it, however, he fancied he heard a slight 
 sound. 
 
 At any other time than the present, he would probably 
 have allowed it to go unheeded. 
 
 But the 6cene we have described had disturbed him 
 greatly. 
 
 In the first place, Jonathan Wild had a suspicion at 
 least, if not more, of who and what he was. 
 
 The fact that he was known on shore as Colonel Thome 
 had been published to his men. 
 
 Discovery was what he had to dread. For a long time 
 past he had eluded it, and flattered himself that for a long 
 time he should still be successful in doing so. 
 
 Every little thing would now be noticed. He would be 
 in a state of perpetual suspense ; and so, when he entered
 
 BLUE3KIN : A ROMANCE 
 
 189 
 
 »he little recess and heard a faint sound, he started and 
 listened, fancying he was about to encounter an enemy. 
 
 The place was profoundly dark. 
 
 He hesitated to advance. 
 
 " Morgan ! " he cried ; " Morgan ! " 
 
 " Ay — ay ! your honour." 
 
 " A light here ! Quick ! A light ! " 
 
 Morgan hastily detached one of the lamps from the 
 wall, and ran towards him. 
 
 Captain Howlet took it from him with his left hand. In 
 his right be held his drawn sword. 
 
 Thus provided, he advanced. 
 
 The lamp shed a clear light around him. 
 
 He advanced cautiously. 
 
 Ere, however, he had proceeded a dozen paces, he uttered 
 a loud exclamation, and, dropping his sword, he rushed 
 forward. 
 
 A scream — loud — shrill — ear-piercing — followed the 
 act. 
 
 The reader can guess from whose lips it had come. 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess. 
 
 When, with so much hazard, she had descended the 
 rope and found her feet touch the earth, she paused, not 
 knowing what to do. 
 
 Darkness surrounded her. 
 
 Not that darkness which may be seen abroad, or in a 
 chamber, but such a darkness as is found only in the 
 caverns of the earth, where no ray of light ever pene- 
 trates. 
 
 She knew not what danger might attempt a movement 
 in any direction, and so, bewildered, alarmed, and ex- 
 hausted, she clutched the rope tightly, determined not to 
 quit her hold until she felt herself in safety. 
 
 It was just at this moment that she heard a footstep 
 and a voice. 
 
 The latter was known to her. 
 
 It was Colonel Thome's. 
 
 She felt as though she was about to faint. 
 
 But fortunately she was able to rally herself from it. 
 
 More heavily, however, she leant upon the rope, which 
 made a faint rustling sound. 
 
 It was this which had reached the colonel's ear6 as he 
 was about to return. 
 
 Edgworth Bess heard him pause. 
 
 She heard him call to Morgan for a light. 
 
 But so intense was her terror that she found herself un- 
 able to move in the least from where she stood, even 
 when she saw the pirate approaching with the light. 
 
 With the strength of desperation, however, she held on 
 to the rope. 
 
 Then she uttered that awful scream which followed so 
 close upon the captain's exclamation. 
 
 As may be imagined, these cries rang with great shrill- 
 ness through the vaulted chambers, reaching the ears of 
 the pirates, and causing them to hasten to the spot. 
 
 Captain Howlet, in a second, had darted forward and 
 caught Bess tightly round the waist. 
 
 But still she kept her hold upon the rope, nor could he 
 force her from it. 
 
 But Morgan, although as full of surprise at seeing a 
 girl there as any one well could be, yet retained some of 
 his faculties, and so, drawing his sword, he with one blow 
 severed the rope a few inches above the place where Edg- 
 worth Bess had grasped it. 
 
 Captain Howiet, of course, ceased to experience any 
 difficulty in dragging his captive with him. 
 
 He carried her into the outer cavern. 
 
 The poor girl's mind and strength almost gave way 
 before the continued attacks which had been made upon 
 it, and she was now in a state of semi-unconsciousness. 
 
 She still retained her hold upon the rope. 
 
 Captain Howlet placed her on the ground, and, before 
 his men had time to express their astonishment at the 
 affair, so inexplicable as it was to them, he cried — 
 
 " Quick ! all of you, quick ! Morgan, get everything in 
 readiness. We will go aboard at once ! " 
 
 " All is quite ready," said Morgan in reply. " Follow 
 me, lads, to the outlet ! " 
 
 So saying, Lieutenant Morgan hastened forwai-u, vvhile 
 the men, in a disorderly throng, followed him across the 
 cave, and down a long tortuous passage. 
 
 The captain quickly raised Edgworth Bess from her 
 recumbent posture, and followed in the rear. 
 
 The passage was about five hundred paces in length. 
 
 Upon reaching its extremity, they paused. 
 
 All was in darkness. 
 
 But the men were too much accustomed to what they 
 were about to need a light, besides it would have been 
 rather dangerous to have shown one. 
 
 They were opening the secret door in the rocks. 
 
 But ere they had quite finished their task, there was a 
 strange, grating sound against the rocks, and a voice 
 cried, in loud and startling tones — 
 
 " Forward ! forward ! Fire upon them if they offer 
 the least resistance ! Take them, dead or alive ! Forward ! 
 forward ! The ladder is quite forward ! Down with 
 them, and then there will be an end to Captain Howlet 
 and his pirate band ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD REACHES GILBERT-PASSAGE IN SAFETY, 
 BUT HEARS NO TIDINGS OF BLUESKIN. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and the two men who had so strangely 
 left Wild's service and entered his, proceeded at a good 
 pace towards Drury-lane. 
 
 It was getting daylight, and, like those predatory 
 animals of nocturnal habits, they hastened to find some 
 place where they could conceal themselves during the day. 
 
 Impulse, without reflection, caused Jack to take the 
 route he did. A moment's thought would have told him 
 it was dangerous in the extreme, being the first place 
 Wild would go to look for him. 
 
 Strange to say, however, so engrossed was he with 
 thinking of Blueskin and poor Edgworth Bess, he reached 
 Wych-street before it occurred to him. 
 
 Then happening to look up, he saw a little way before 
 him, on the opposite side of the way, the residence of his 
 old master, John Roots, the carpenter. 
 
 The shop-shutters were shut, and the blinds before all 
 the windows drawn down. 
 
 In the busy whirl of ideas and incidents to which he 
 had been subject since that night when we first introduced 
 him to the reader, the original purpose of his revenge 
 had almost been lost sight of; but now, when he unex- 
 pectedly found himself before his dwelling, thoughts of 
 the past surged up in his breast, and those angry passions 
 which had been for so long dormant, broke forth afresh, 
 with additional fury, from Jhe long rest they had had. 
 
 Blewitt and Flood looked astonished, and rather 
 alarmed, too, when they saw the change in Jack's de- 
 meanour. They could not tell what to make of it. 
 
 " Villain ! " said Jack, hoarsely, apostrophizing the 
 senseless wood-work, " this is all your work ! but you 
 shall yet live to repent your treatment of the poor appren- 
 tice, who you would not believe to be honest, because his 
 father was hanged. Tremble, villain ! tremble ! I have 
 sworn to be revenged 3 and if it is ten years to come, I 
 shall remember my oath, and keep it ! " 
 
 " What's the row, Jack ? " asked Matthew Flood. 
 
 " Nothing— nothing ! No matter. A little private 
 affair. Come on." 
 
 " All right. But, I say, Jack ! " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Is it some one you don't like ? " 
 
 " I hate him." 
 
 " That is enough. Tell me who he is, and I'll hack his 
 whistle for him.' 
 
 " No — no ! Leave him to my hands. My revenge will 
 be all the sweeter for being long kept." 
 
 " But who is he, Jack ? ' 
 
 " My master." 
 
 " Your master F" 
 
 " Yes ; I was bound 'prentice to John Roots, the car- 
 penter." 
 
 " That 6hop over the way?" 
 " Yes, that is it." 
 
 " It says over the door, ' John Roots, Carpenter and 
 Joiner.' " 
 
 " Such is his trade, and such was to have been mine. 
 I should then have been within the pale of society, but 
 now I am for ever shut out. By ill-usage, threats, sneers, 
 and false accusations he raised a demon within me, which 
 grew too strong for him at last." 
 "Eh!" 
 
 " My father was hanged," continued Jack, who, when- 
 ever he thought upon this theme, was almost frantic. 
 "But what had I to do with that. I was not guilty, or
 
 I 190 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 they would have hanged me too. Would they had done 
 so — would they had done so — for what has life been to me ? 
 A curse — a curse ! " 
 
 Flood and Blewitt looked at each other in silence. 
 
 They knew not what to say. 
 
 " But a time will come, John Boots, when you will 
 bitterly regret the way in which you acted, and when it 
 i3 too late, then you will wish you had done otherwise. 
 Beware ! beware ! " 
 
 " Come, Jack," said Blewitt, as he tapped him on the 
 arm, " Come along, and. don't kick up such a row, or 
 you mil have all the blessed people in the street looking 
 out of winder." 
 
 " True— true ! " replied Sheppard, recovering himself 
 in a moment. " I had forgotten where I was." 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 " I will tell you some day," he continued, " the whole 
 history ; but now we must be on the look out for a place 
 where we can hide, for Jonathan will be sure to make 
 sharp search after us." 
 
 " You may say that, Jack," remarked Flood. 
 
 " I don't feel at all comfortable," added Blewitt. 
 
 " Come with me," said Sheppard, who, fortunately, re- 
 collected all at once the place spoken of by Blueskin, in 
 Gilbert' s-passage, Clare-market. " I know of a safe 
 retreat. This way." 
 
 He turned down a court as he spoke, and from his 
 intimate acquaintance with the ramifications of that 
 locality, soon reached the place of which he had spoken. 
 
 Jonathan Wild's two late janizaries kept close to his 
 heels. 
 
 Having taken the decided step they had, they felt that 
 their safety depended upon their keeping close to him. 
 
 The " Fountain," was the name of a small beer-house, 
 kept by one George Stokoe, in Gilbert-passage, and it was 
 before this house that the three paused. 
 
 it was closed, and there was no sign to indicate that it 
 was inhabited by any one. 
 
 But Jack, without ceremony, mounted the crumbling 
 steps before the door, and turning his back to it, kicked 
 furiously with his heels against the panel. 
 
 So imperious a demand for admission was quickly 
 attended to. 
 
 The mention of Blueskin's uanie was quite sufficient. 
 
 A capital repast was quickly spread before them, for 
 upon entering they found the interior belied the exterior, 
 for the inmates were all astir. 
 
 This disposed of, they lay down to rest, a thing of which 
 Jack stood greatly in need, but his mind was too much 
 agitated for him to enjoy a refreshing slumber. 
 
 When it was dark they ventured to descend. 
 
 The first question Jack asked was whether they had 
 seen Blueskin. 
 
 The landlord replied in the negative. 
 
 This made the two men hang back a little. 
 
 Sheppard noticed the difference in their behaviour in- 
 stantly. 
 
 He was unwilling for them to leave him, so he said — 
 
 " Blueskin will not be long before he comes." 
 
 " Are you sure, Jack ? " 
 
 " Quite certain." 
 
 " Beeause if I thought " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " That if he was not coming pretty soon I should he 
 off." 
 
 " So should I," said Blewitt, for it was Flood who 
 spoke. 
 
 " Pho ! pho ! " laughed Jack ; " I tell you it will be all 
 right ; take.my word for it. However, not to keep any- 
 thing from you, I think it very likely Blueskin won't be 
 here until to-morrow morning." 
 
 " To-morrow morning ? " 
 
 " He may come before, but I don't expect him." 
 As the reader knows, Jack had no grounds for speaking 
 in the way he did, but having commenced the deception, 
 he was obliged to keep it up, at any rate, a little longer, 
 and then, if no tidings of his comrade could be heard, he 
 would have to break it to them gradually. 
 
 But somehow he had a feeling at his heart, amounting 
 almost to conviction, that Blueskin would not fall into 
 the hands of Wild. 
 
 Time will show whether he was right. 
 Edgworth Bess, and the circumstance of her mysterious 
 disappearance, was uppermost in his mind. 
 
 He had, however, but little hopes of finding her al'ler 
 the elapsion of so long a time, but yet he could not quite 
 relinquish it. 
 
 " Mat," he said, addressing Flood. 
 " Yes, Jack." 
 
 " I want to go out on a little expedition to-night ; will 
 you come with me ? " 
 
 " I have no objections. Have you, Blewitt ? " 
 " No, none as 1 knows on. But what's the lay ? " 
 " I want to find some one." 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Some one who I managed to get out of the clutches of 
 Jonathan Wild, but somehow or other she has disap- 
 peared." 
 
 " She ! " 
 
 " Yes. Do not ask me for any further explanation 
 now, because I cannot give it. Will you come with 
 me ?" 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 "Then make what change in your dress you can, in 
 order that you may not be readily known, and I will do 
 the same." 
 
 "Agreed." 
 
 A few minutes after this all three were in the street. 
 
 Jack Sheppard remembered the conversation he had 
 had with Blueskin as to the mode in which the search 
 should be conducted, and he resolved to act according to it. 
 
 He went, therefore, by a circuitous and unfrequented 
 route to Newgate-market. 
 
 After a little trouble, he found the place where the 
 secret door was situated leading into Wild's house. 
 
 From this point he searched over the whole market ; 
 but, of course, without meeting with anything to reward 
 his trouble. 
 
 Then he went to the gateway leading into Warwick- 
 lane. 
 
 That narrow, dismal thoroughfare was now quite silent 
 and deserted. 
 
 There was no one of whom he could make an inquiry. 
 
 Passing down Warwick-lane, he went into Paternoster- 
 row. 
 
 At Am en-corner he paused. 
 
 Four routes were open before him, either one of which 
 he thought was just as likely to be taken by the poor girl 
 as another. 
 
 His heart sank when he saw how very, very faint was 
 the chance of discovering any clue to her whereabouts. 
 
 In fact, he was almost ready to despair. 
 
 Here, also, there was no one. of whom he could make 
 inquiry. The whole neighbourhood appeared deserted. 
 
 At last he emerged on to Ludgate-hill. 
 
 " I will take this way to Johnson's," said Jack, to him- 
 self. " It is the most direct route. I will examine every 
 inch of the way, but I fear it will be to no purpose." 
 
 With these thoughts in his mind, he descended the hill, 
 and made his way into Fleet -street. 
 
 At the corner was a watchman's box. 
 
 Here, he thought, was a chance, though a bare one. 
 This watchman might have seen her. He would question 
 the man and sec. 
 
 After a while, the guardiau of the night was aroused 
 from a deep slumber into which he had fallen. 
 
 "Hullo!" he said, "thieves! murder!" 
 
 Ho would have sprung his rattle, only Jack seized him 
 by the hand. 
 
 Then he questioned him upon the point so dear to him, 
 but in vain. He could obtain no satisfactory reply. 
 
 Wearily he walked up Fleet-street until the corner of 
 Fetter-lane was reached, where he espied another watch- 
 box. 
 
 He knew it would be useless to inquire, or, rather, 
 feared it would be, but yet he determined not to let any 
 chance, however remote or faint, pass by. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD HAS AN INTERVIEW WITH JOHNSON, 
 THE LANDLORD, AND FLOOD PROPOSES TO BREAK 
 INTO JOHN ROOTS' HOUSE. 
 
 It will be remembered when the Mohawks chased poor 
 Edgworth Bess along the streets, some of their number 
 had noticed the very watch-box before which Jack and his 
 two companions now stopped, and had gone through the 
 pleasant little diversion of "coffining" him.
 
 BLTTESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 wi 
 
 With some little difficulty, Jack Sheppard managed to 
 elicit from him a clear enough account of the affair as to 
 leave but little doubt upou bis mind that sbo whom he 
 sought had been bunted through the streets by this band 
 of dissolute young men. 
 No stranger was he to their doings. 
 Often and often had he heard their deeds of cruelty 
 related to him. 
 
 Aud poor Bess had been hunted by them. 
 Hunted, perhaps, to death. 
 
 Of course, all the information he could get from the 
 watchman was that they chased her towards Temple-bar. 
 In this direction he now went. 
 
 But the empty, silent street now showed no sjgns of 
 what had taken place a night or so before. 
 
 Passing under the grim archway, he came at length to 
 that circular part of the Strand to the north of St. 
 Clement's Church, which is known as Pickett-street. 
 
 This was the very spot where the Mohawks had come 
 up with their prey. 
 
 But this Jack knew not. 
 His heart burned like tire within him. 
 Rage and despair struggled for supremacy. 
 Alas ! to him there was every probability that he had 
 looked upon the face of the poor persecuted girl, whom 
 he had so often defended, for the last time. 
 
 " This looks like no go, Jack," said Flood, at length. 
 " Don't be like that. What are we to do next ? " 
 
 An angry rejoinder came to bis lips, but he had the 
 prudence to check it ere he gave it utterance. 
 
 It was no good making more enemies than he had 
 already. 
 
 Curbing himself, he said — ■ 
 
 " I am afraid it is as you say, but yet I shall not despair 
 — I shall cling tight to hope to the last." 
 
 He looked round him as he spoke, but there was no ons 
 whatever, except themselves in view. 
 
 What bad poor Jack to guide him in the slightest ? 
 Nothing. 
 
 On he went. Past the church palings and iutu Wych- 
 street again. 
 At the top of Wych-street was the " Black Lion." 
 Had the kind-hearted landlord, Johnson, heard since he 
 saw him last some news respecting her ? Perhaps he 
 mi£ht have done, but how was he to ascertain p 
 
 The old inu would doubtless be well guarded by 
 Jonathan Wild's men. 
 
 Still it would be a satisfaction to learn whether there 
 was any intelligence, and so be determined, let the risk 
 be what it might, that ho would go there ouce more aud 
 inquire. 
 
 Having come to this resolution, ho stepped forward at 
 a quicker pace. 
 
 To go up Wych-street he would have to pass his late 
 master's house. 
 
 It was twice he bad seen it in a short interval. 
 The first time the reader knows with what revengeful 
 and passionate feelings he had stood before it ; but this 
 outbreak was calmness in comparison with the storm 
 tuat burst forth when he saw it the second time. 
 
 " John Roots, you laugh at the boy's expressions, and 
 take no heed of them. He has passed your bouse twice — 
 beware of the third time ! " 
 
 Dashing onwards, Jack soon left the shop behind, and 
 came in sight of the public-house. 
 
 He baited on the opposite side of the way, and shrunk 
 back into the shadow of the houses as much as be could, 
 so that no casual glance would discover him. 
 
 The exterior of the " Black Lion " presented its usual 
 appearance. 
 
 Loud laughter, boisterous songs, and the clanking of 
 drinking vessels reached the ear, telling too plainly of the 
 furious merriment that was going ou within. 
 
 A bright light from the partially-curtained windows 
 streamed out into the dark, deserted street. 
 
 But, beyond this, there was nothing to be seen about 
 the place that would cause suspicion. 
 
 Jack hesitated a moment, and then turning round to his 
 two followers, he said — 
 
 " Wait here for me, I shall not be a moment. At all 
 risks I will cross over and ask Johnson whether he has 
 seen or heard anything of her." 
 Then, without waiting to hear the reply, he ran across 
 
 the road, and disappeared in the low doorway of the 
 inu. 
 Ho pushed open the half-glass door. 
 A glance was sufficient to show him that the passage, at 
 least, was clear. 
 Like a ghost, he glided into the kitchen. 
 This was the back apartment, where Johnson and his 
 household usually sat. It wa» not exactly a private room, 
 yet it was not a public one. 
 
 One or two persons were seated in it, besides the land- 
 lord and his wife. 
 But Jack knew them not. 
 
 Pulling bis hat down as closely as he could over his 
 forehead, in order to conceal his features as much as pos- 
 sible, he sat down upou a vacant seat, and beckoned John- 
 son to him. 
 
 "Have you heard anything of her?" he asked, 
 anxiously. 
 
 " Good heavens ! it's Jack." 
 " Yes, I am here. Have you heard of her ?" 
 " Not a word, Jack, but hark ! What made you so 
 foolish as to come here ? The place is full of men — 
 some regular police-officers, and some Jonathan's crew. 
 How you managed to get in without their seeing you is 
 a mystery. It strikes me you won't go out so easily." 
 
 The landlord spoke with great rapidity, in a low but 
 energetic tone of voice. 
 
 " 1 care not," replied Jack, as he placed his elbows on 
 the table, and let his head fall between his palms, " I 
 care not now what becomes of me. She is lost to me for 
 ever." 
 
 " Come, come, cheer up ! Her disappearance looks 
 strange, and yet she may be in perfect safety. What does 
 Blueskin say ? " 
 
 " I know not whether he is alive or dead." 
 " True, the men here told me how he had jumped off 
 Blackfriars-bridge, and how Jonathan had got into a boat 
 and chased him down the Thames." 
 " Did he catch him ? " 
 
 " I don't know, but I fancy not. I can't get them to 
 speak about the latter part of the affair, and that's what 
 made me ask you." 
 " I trust he has got off ! " 
 
 " So do I. But come, Jack, it will not do for you to 
 despair ! Sit still a moment where you are, and I will 
 fetch you some brandy." 
 
 Johnson left bis side, but was soon back again with a 
 large glass of raw brandy, which he placed on the table 
 before him. 
 
 " There," he said, " drink that. Take my word for it, 
 you will be better afterwards. Throw despair to the 
 dogs ! Drink, and be a man ! " 
 
 Thus adjured, Jack lifted the strong spirit to his lips 
 and swallowed a good half of it at a single gulp. 
 " That's right, Jack ! Now, again ! " 
 " No, I have had enough ! " 
 
 " Tush ! try again ! What you have had is not enough 
 to do you good ! Drink the rest ! " 
 Jack emptied the glass. 
 
 " You will be all right now. And just listen to what I 
 have got to say. Don't fall into your enemies' hands if 
 you can help it. Wait until you see Blueskin before you 
 do anything. Will you promise me that ? " 
 " I will." 
 
 " Off with you, then, and seek some place of safety, for 
 this will no longer be a refuge for you ! But where shall 
 you go ? Tell me, so that if I should want to find you I 
 shall be able to do so." 
 
 " At the ' Fountain,' in Gilbert's-passage." 
 " Good ! I know it well. Take care to get there unob- 
 served. The longer you stay where you are the greater 
 will bo your danger ! Off with you ! " 
 Jack arose. 
 
 The spirits he had drank had not failed to produce their 
 full effect upon him, as they would upon any one not 
 habituated to their use. 
 "Johnson," he said, "see that the coast is clear." 
 " All right." 
 
 He disappeared, and was absent about a moment. 
 Then he returned. 
 
 " Wild's men are in the front room," he said. " They 
 are drinking, but as I went to the door I saw them look 
 at me."
 
 BLUESKTN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " What is to be done ? " 
 
 " You might go out without them recognising you, but 
 then again you might not ! It will be a little trouble, but 
 it. will be best to make sure ! " 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Just this. Do you recollect I once took you down 
 the cellar, and showed you a way into my house in White 
 Hart-street ? " 
 
 "To be sure I do! " 
 
 " Well, then, that is what I meant ! Come on, you will 
 be able to slip into the bar unperceived, and when that is 
 done the rest will follow easily enough ! " 
 
 " So it will." 
 
 " Follow me, then, quietly ! Don't seem to be in a 
 hurry, or agitated, and ten to one if you are noticed ! " 
 
 With this the landlord, closely followed by Jack, led 
 the way into the bar, the door of which he closed behind 
 him. 
 
 Then, lighting a candle, he preceded him down a flight 
 of steps. The same as described in a previous chapter of 
 this history. 
 
 It is needless, having already done so, to repeat minutely 
 all the details. It will be enough to say that he entered 
 the secret passage and emerged from it in safety. 
 
 He did not tarry a moment, however, at Johnson's other 
 house, but made his way to that part of Drury-laue where 
 he had left his two companions. 
 
 He found them both there waiting for him. 
 
 " No luck," he said. 
 
 " She has not been there ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Where next ? " 
 
 " I promised to go back to Gilbert's-passage, because 
 there are so many of Jonathan's men hanging about." 
 
 "Oh! well!" said Flood. "Will you listen to me, 
 Jack ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " While you nave been gone, we have been thinking 
 about you and your master, and we have come to the con- 
 clusion that he is a downright bad one ! " 
 
 " Curse him !" 
 
 " Just so. Now, I'll tell you what we have thought." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " That we would serve him out ! " 
 
 " Serve him out ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and it remains for you to say whether you'll 
 help us." 
 
 " I have sworn to be revenged upon him for all the 
 misery he has caused me ! " cried Jack Sheppard, " and, 
 as I live and breathe, I will keep my oath ! ' 
 
 " Bravo ! " said Flood. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND HIS TWO COMPANIONS COMMIT A 
 BURGLARY AT THE CARPENTER'S IN WYCH-STREET. 
 
 " Speak out!" said Jack; "tell me at once what you 
 mean." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 "Go on, then." 
 
 " We have just considered how you might be well and 
 fully revenged upon him." 
 
 '' But how ?" 
 
 " The street is quiet," said Flood." 
 
 " Not a mouse stirring," added Blewitt. 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " We will just crack his crib for him." 
 
 " Too dangerous." 
 
 " Do you think so, Jack ?" 
 
 " To-night I do." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Because, when I was in at the ' Black Lion' yonder, 
 the place was full of Jonathan's men, who are keeping a 
 sharp look-out for us." 
 
 " The deuce they are ! " 
 
 " They have no suspicion as yet, I feel confident ; but 
 u little thing will suffice to arouse it." 
 
 " What do you say, Flood ? " asked Blewitt. 
 
 " Why, I say this. That ! for Jonathan's men* 
 
 He snapped his fingers as he spoke. 
 
 "But the crib?" 
 
 " I say, crack it. You will be safe, enough, Jack; 
 and, I take it, that will be the best way of having your 
 rerenge" 
 
 " You know all the ina and outs of the place, I sup. 
 pose ? " said Blewitt. 
 
 " Quite well." 
 
 " Then it will be as easy as daylight." 
 
 " Now, Jack, you had better do it." 
 
 Jack hesitated. 
 
 The proposal came upon him quite unexpectedly. 
 
 Many things prompted him to accede to it. 
 
 In the first place there was the deep-rooted, angry 
 feeling he had against his former master, John Roots, a 
 feeling which had been called into existence by that 
 person's ill-treatment of him. 
 
 He had sworn to be revenged. 
 
 Here there was an ample opportunity of gratifying it, 
 for he well knew that his master was one of those persons 
 who never think their money is safe without it is in their 
 own possession. 
 
 Consequently, being a man well to do, and of a frugal 
 disposition, he had in his house a very large sum of 
 money. His whole worldly wealth, in fact. 
 
 Jack, from having been so long an inmate of the house, 
 of course knew quite well where the box contaiuing the 
 treasure was kept. 
 
 He knew, too, that if he took it, the ruin of John Roots 
 would follow. 
 
 And would it not be fair, he asked himself, to give him 
 back as good as he had sent . 
 
 Had he not ruined him ? 
 
 Why, then, it would be only fair that Jack should pay 
 him back in his own coin. 
 
 He thought so. 
 
 Besides, he could tell the men he had with him were 
 wavering and unsteady. 
 
 A little thing would serve to turn them against him, 
 and then how hopeless would his position be. 
 
 He did not wish it to be seen that he complied with 
 their request for that reason, for if he had he would have 
 lost all mastery over them. 
 
 If he refused they might, perhaps, turu round quit.* 
 against him. 
 
 If, on the other hand, he agreed, it would most likely be 
 the means of conciliating them. 
 
 And so, with all these reflections bearing in one direction, 
 it is not wonderful that he consented. 
 
 The proximity of Wild's myrmidons would add conside- 
 rably to the peril of the undertaking, but Jack just then 
 was not in the humour to care for that. 
 
 His blood was heated and his brain inflamed by the 
 brandy which had been given him by Joe Johnson. 
 
 " It shall be done," he cried ; " old Roots shall repent 
 the past this night! " 
 
 " Hurrah ! Jack — I thought we should please you." 
 
 " There will be plenty of booty to repay us for our 
 trouble," continued Sheppard. 
 
 " Better still." 
 
 " Somewhere in his house thei'e is a large chest in 
 which he keeps his money." 
 
 " How much ? " 
 
 " All he is worth, for he will never trust it iu a bank. 
 All the money he reeeives, all the money he has saved, he 
 keeps in this box." 
 
 " You don't say so ? " 
 
 " He is a careful man, if you know what that means ?" 
 
 "What!" 
 
 " A miser ! " 
 
 " I thought as much ; but, Jack, do you really mean 
 to say that there is so much in this old crib worth the 
 looking after ? " 
 
 " There is. But it won't do to stand talking here about 
 it. Let us get to action." 
 
 " Bravo, Jack ! " 
 
 " Here is the house." 
 
 They paused before the carpenter's dwelling as they 
 spoke. 
 
 All three looked up at it. 
 
 None of the inmates were up — at least there was no 
 light to be seen at any of the windows. 
 
 The street was quite empty. 
 
 The burglars now only spoke in whispers, fearful lest 
 the sound of their voices should be carried upon the still 
 night air to unfriendly ears. 
 
 They were quite unprovided with tools— at least such J 
 implements as they would have chosen had they have *
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE. 
 
 193 
 
 [HOW BLUESKIN BAFFLED JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 contemplated the enterprise earlier, and so have been able 
 to provide themselves with proper tools. 
 
 But all three were armed with large-bladed clasp 
 knives, and Blewitt had in his pocket a buuch of skeleton 
 keys. 
 
 With these, then, they would have to achieve their 
 object. 
 
 They had, however, very little doubt their efforts would 
 prove successful. 
 
 " The window," said Jack ; " the shop window. You 
 « ill get in easiest through there." 
 
 " But the shutters ? " 
 
 "Oh! you will easily manage them." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " There are two hinges. Get your knives and cut away 
 the wood round them." 
 
 " Capital." 
 
 " We shall then be able to get iu without leaving any- 
 thing to excite suspicion if a person should happen to go 
 by." 
 
 " So we shall." . 
 
 It will be necessary, in order to understand this, to 
 explain what sort of shutters they were that protected the 
 windows of John Roots' shop. 
 
 The kind is one that has, since the introduction of plate 
 glass, fallen into complete disuse. 
 
 Some years ago they were to be met with in remote 
 country villages, but even there only very seldom. 
 
 The shutter, then, was composed of a large piece of 
 wood, hung upon two h orizontal hinges fixed to the 
 window-sill. 
 
 Wlien fastened, the shutter was lifted up bodily like a 
 flap— or, rather, huge box lid— and secured at the top by 
 an iron cotter and pin. 
 
 By attacking the lower part of the shutter in the manner 
 proposed by Jack, it would, when the wood was quite cut 
 away from the hinges, hang loosely suspended by the 
 fastener at the top, so that, unless upon a particular obser- 
 vation, it would not be noticed that it had at all been 
 tampered with. 
 
 Mo. 26,
 
 m 
 
 BLUF.SKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 With great speed and energy the two men set about the 
 task assigned to them, and although their knives were 
 sharp, the wood was so hard that it was a long while 
 before they accomplished it. 
 
 At length, however, it was finished. 
 
 Raising the shutter a little way, they next proceeded to 
 \ attack the window itself. 
 
 This, as it was of the old-fashioned latticed description, 
 did not prove an obstacle worthy of the name. The lead 
 round the panes yielded easily. 
 
 So noiseless were they in all these operations, that not 
 the least alarm was raised. 
 
 In less than two minutes all three stood inside the shop. 
 
 It was not until this moment that they remembered 
 they were unprovided with one of the most necessary 
 things of all. 
 
 And that was a light. 
 
 How they had omitted this in their calculations, they 
 could not tell. 
 
 " This is a nice state of things," said Flood. " What 
 are we to do, Jack ? " 
 
 " We must have a light," said Blewitt. 
 
 " That is very true, but I have not got one. Ilave 
 neither of you ?" 
 
 " Only some matches." 
 
 " Stop. Then I think we shall do." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Light one of them. I know the old crib well, as you 
 may imagine, and I shall find the place where the candles 
 are kept without much trouble, and we must do the best 
 we cau with one of them." 
 
 " Good," said Blewitt, aud as he spoke he produced 
 from his pocket a bottle of phosphorous and a few thieves' 
 matches," as they were called, from the fact of their being 
 ignited without noise. 
 
 . The flame was a tiny one, but yet the light it gave was 
 sufficient to enable Jack to find his way across the shop 
 without coming into contact with any of the various 
 objects which it contained. 
 
 Pushing open a half-glass door, he entered the little 
 room behind the shop. 
 
 In one corner of this apartment was another door, which 
 Jack opened, but the moment he did so, the half-burned 
 match he carried was extinguished by a sudden and 
 violent current of cold air. 
 
 This door, in fact, was the one leading to the cellars. 
 
 Jack did not need the light now, he just passed his hand 
 behind the door, and produced a candle. 
 
 Another match was struck by Blewitt, and it was 
 lighted. 
 
 This difficulty, then, was over, though, had not Jack 
 been as intimately acquainted with the premises as he 
 was, it would have proved a very serious one indeed. 
 
 " This way," said Jack, " and be silent. Here aro the 
 stairs." 
 
 Again r-ecommending his two followers to silence, Jack 
 led the way up the staircase, towards the sleeping apart- 
 ments in John Roots' house. 
 
 All within the dwelling was as still as death, and the 
 three burglars stole up the stairs like three grim spectres. 
 
 Now and then, however, despite their utmost cai - e, the 
 timeworn wood would creak beneath their tread, but the 
 stridulous sound would, if heard by anyone, be thought 
 nothing of in the night. 
 
 At length the landing on the first floor was reached. 
 
 Jack did not speak, but by a motion indicated which 
 was the door opening into the carpenter's bedroom. 
 
 Too well did the apprentice know that his master made 
 it an invariable practice to lock the door, and place the 
 key beneath his pillow. 
 
 He pointed to the keyhole. 
 
 Blewitt understood him. 
 
 Cautiously advancing, he took from his pocket his bunch 
 of skeleton keys, and having selected one which he thought 
 most likely to answer his purpose, he gently inserted it 
 in the lock. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIV. 
 
 EXflAINS HOW IT WAS THAT BLUESKIN ESCAPES FROM 
 WILD UPON THE THAMES, AND RELATES HOW HE TOOK 
 REFUGE IN A LODGING-HOUSE IN SOUTHWARK. 
 
 J?-0 long a time has elapsed since we took any cognizance 
 of the proceedings of Blueskin, that we feel we cannot 
 
 any longer suffer our attention to be diverted from hirn. 
 
 The whole of the remarkable incidents which took place 
 upon the occasion of Jonathan Wild chasing him down 
 the Thames wQ doubtless bo fresh in the recollection of 
 the reader, so it will be unnecessary for us to recapitulate 
 them. 
 
 The first shot which Wild fired at him while standing 
 on the steps was an effective one. 
 
 _ He had just risen to tbo surface after his tremendous 
 dive, and was dizzy and breathless. 
 
 He saw nothing, for the water blinded him. 
 
 Ere, however, he could clear the hair from before his 
 eyes, and recover himself, he heard a sudden shout, a loud 
 report, and then felt a stinging sensation along his neck, 
 which told him in a moment that he had been struck by a 
 bullet. 
 
 The impulse to cry out in the manner he did was one 
 that could not be eontrolled. 
 
 He sank. 
 
 Down — down — seemingly for miles down beneath the 
 surface of the muddy river he seemed to go, until he lost 
 all consciousness of the distance. 
 
 Then he rose again, and, by the ere instinct of self- 
 preservation, struck out his arms. 
 
 Blueskin was an excellent swimmer. 
 
 The tide carried him down the river, and what with 
 that and his own exertions, he went at a very rapid rate 
 indeed. 
 
 He was not allowed time enough to make more than a 
 dozen strokes before he heard the report of another pistol. 
 
 He ducked his head instantly. 
 
 This time, however, he was not hit. 
 
 As long as he could he swam with his head under 
 water, but his breath soon compelled him to draw in more 
 air. 
 
 The first sounds he heard were the shouts of Wild's 
 men in the boat. 
 
 He was seen. 
 
 He was pursued. 
 
 His heart sank within him, and he gave himself up for 
 lost. 
 
 How was he, wounded and weak from loss of blood as 
 he was, to hope to escape from his enemies when they 
 chased him in a boat. 
 
 For a little while his speed might perhaps be greater 
 than theirs, but he would be the first to grow exhausted. 
 
 Then he would fall into their hands an easy prey. 
 
 His wound, however, he quickly found not to be a 
 serious one, and then the cold water, besides having the 
 effect of materially stanching the blood, mitigated the 
 pain which it would otherwise have caused. 
 
 For this much, then, he had to be thankful. 
 
 From his old friend and acquaintance, but now bitter 
 foe, Jonathan Wild, he felt he had everything to dread. 
 Having learned that he had escaped the death to which 
 he fancied ho had doomed him, he would now spare no 
 effort to capture and slay him. 
 
 Love of life is one of the strongest impulses implanted 
 in the breasts of human beings, and in obedience to the 
 dictates of this feeling, he summoned up all the strength 
 he possessed to do battle with the waves, for he felt he 
 had yet much to live for. 
 
 Already have we seen how he managed to keep ahead 
 of Wild's boat, and how, in spite of their utmost exertions 
 to prevent it, he had gained the shadow of the boats that 
 lay moored on the Surrey side of London-bridge. 
 
 But then a most mysterious and inexplicable circum- 
 stance occurred. 
 
 From those very boats had come a swimmer, who, 
 naturally enough, Wild and his men took to be the person 
 of whom they were in chase. 
 
 Under this impression, one of them had taken as care- 
 ful and as steady an aim as he could, and fired. 
 
 The swimmer was hit, as was abundantly manifested 
 by the quantity of blood which gushed from his head and 
 face, and dyed the water around him. 
 
 He turned with great rapidity over and over, as though 
 in the agonies of death. 
 
 Then, by means of a couple of boat-hooks, the body 
 was drawn through the water and over the gunwale into 
 the boat. 
 
 To the horror and astonishment of Wild, it was not 
 Blueskin ! 
 
 One glance at the bruised and bleeding form wa*
 
 BLUESKIN; A KOMANCK. 
 
 19$ 
 
 enough to assure him of this beyond all possibility of 
 doubt. 
 
 In vain, as we bave seen, did be endeavour to frame 
 aome bypotbesis tbat would account for this most unparal- 
 leled circumstance. 
 
 He was completely baffled. 
 
 As a last bope, be bad caused a thorough search to be 
 made of all the boats lying at their moorings, but that 
 ■earch did not result in the discovery of the object which 
 he sought. 
 
 Quite defeated, he had left the spot. 
 
 But though this remained so inexplicable to the thief- 
 taker, it will not to our readers. 
 
 Incomprehensible as it seemed, it in reality was about 
 the simplest thing in the world. 
 
 Blueskiu reached the boats. 
 
 The first one to which he came was a huge, clumsy 
 vessel, built more with a view to transporting heavy 
 burdens than for swiftness. 
 
 He bad made a tremendous effort to reach these boats. 
 It had been almost beyond him, but he managed it. He 
 knew that was the sole chance he had of escaping from a 
 dreadful death. 
 
 But he would have failed, certainly, had they been ten 
 yards further off than they were. 
 
 He swam behind this boat. 
 
 His foe was no longer in sight. 
 
 Now was the chance. 
 
 The faint morning light that fell upon the bosom of the 
 river Thames showed him the thick iron chain by which 
 the boat was moored. 
 
 He clutched it tightly. 
 
 Then, straining his powers to the utmost, he drew him- 
 self up it, and rolled over the edge into the boat. 
 
 What it was he fell upon he could not for a moment 
 think. 
 
 It whs soft. 
 
 But his doubts were quickly put to rest ; for, by the 
 movem^Dfc of it and a faint cry, he knew it was a human 
 being. 
 
 In fact, it was the man who had been set to watch the 
 boat during the night. 
 
 But, wearied out with his lonely vigil, he had, just as 
 the dawn began to show itself in the sky, laid down and 
 fallen asleep. 
 
 Of course, the shock of Blueskin falling upon him 
 aroused him from his slumber. 
 
 But ere he could give an alarm, a hand was pressed 
 tightly over his mouth. 
 
 Then, with the suddenness almost of a lightning flash, 
 there darted across Blueskin's mind the thought that this 
 man mig!'.t aid him in making his escape. 
 
 No sooner did the idea occur to him than he proceeded 
 to put it into execution. 
 
 Seizing the only partially-conscious man in his powerful 
 grasp, he forced him over the side of the boat, and let him 
 slip into the water. 
 
 This he was careful to do quietly, so that there was no 
 splash made whatever. 
 . " Swim for your life ! " said Blueskin, in a suppressed 
 whisper ; " swim for your life ! Utter the least cry, and I 
 will send a bullet through vour skull ! Swim off for your 
 life!" 
 
 The half-bewildered man obeyed. 
 
 Eagerly did he watch his progress. 
 
 Away — away he went, and then Blueskin heard the roar 
 which Jonathan gave when, as he imagined, he saw his 
 prey swimming towards him. 
 
 Then followed the pistol shot. 
 
 For an instant— or, perhaps, not bo long — Blueskin was 
 ■undecided how to act. 
 
 He did not know how far the stratagem he had put into 
 practice would prove successful, nor how long the deception 
 under which Jonathan laboured would continue. 
 
 Should he remain where he was in the boat, and either 
 personate the man he had in so summary a manner 
 ejected, or conceal himself within it? Or should be 
 commit himself again to the river, and swim ashore ? 
 
 This latter he had an opportunity now of doing. 
 
 It would be, perhaps, the safest, so he resolved to try 
 it 
 
 With the greatest speed, therefore, be lowered himself 
 over the boatside into the water. 
 
 But when he entered it, he found his strength was much 
 
 diminished, and, short as the distance was which intervened 
 between him and the shore, he was filled with dread that 
 he should find himself incompetent to reach it. 
 
 Still, having met with so much success as he had done 
 hitherto, he felt himself stimulated to make the attempt. 
 
 When the mind is firmly fixed upon any object, it is very 
 rarely indeed tbat it is not attained, and so it was in the 
 present instance with Blueskin. 
 
 Undetected by any one, he wound his way among the 
 vessels, for so close were they together, and so black the 
 shadow that they cast, that it would have needed a very 
 keen eye to have discovered him. 
 
 The shore was reached just at the moment Jonathan 
 arrived at the first of the moored vessels, and caused the 
 search to be made. 
 
 The tide, as we have before mentioned, was running 
 out, and had now about reached the turn, consequently, 
 Blueskin had to scramble through a quantity of thick, 
 black, oozy mud. 
 
 Although he knew his strength was ebbing from him 
 every moment, still he toiled manfully on, and at last had 
 the satisfaction of fairly reaching dry ground. 
 
 He was then compelled to lie down at full length, for bis 
 exhaustion was so great that he could proceed no further. 
 
 The activity, however, with which the search of the 
 vessels was being carried on, warned him to remove as 
 quickly as he could, for fear lest, after all, he should be 
 taken. 
 
 Scrambling, therefore, with no little difficulty to his 
 feet, he staggered rather than walked along a narrow 
 thoroughfare, bordered on each side by tall warehouses. 
 
 Anxiously did he look up and down to the right and to 
 the left, for a friendly light which would indicate a place 
 where he would be able to obtain shelter, but no such met 
 his view. 
 
 Still he went on. 
 
 Every now and then he was forced to clutch the sides of 
 the buildings by which be passed, in order to prevent him- 
 self from falling heavily to the ground. 
 
 At length ho reached a place where a narrow street 
 branched off from the one he was traversing. 
 
 The buildings in it were low and squalid. 
 
 But this he did not notice. 
 
 There was something else which attracted the whole of 
 his attention. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXV. 
 
 BLUESKIN INCURS GREAT PERIL IN THE LODGING-HOUSE 
 IN SOUTHWARK, AND HAS TO FIGHT HARD FOR LIFE. 
 
 About twenty paces down the street was a dimly-burning 
 oil-lamp, which, from its position, was evidently sus- 
 pended from a bracket before the door of one of the 
 dwellings. 
 
 This seemed to point to a place where he would be able 
 to obtain rest and shelter, the two things of which he 
 stood so much in need. 
 
 Whereabouts be was, or what was the name of the 
 street, he had no idea whatever, and, as he just then felt, 
 this was a thing not likely to much trouble him. 
 
 Taking every step with greater difficulty than its pre- 
 decessor, he crawled towards this light, which, though it 
 burned, seemed every moment to be on the point of ex- 
 piring. 
 
 Upon a closer approach, he perceived that the house 
 before which it hung was one of those lodging-houses of 
 whieh, even at the present day, there are so many along 
 the banks of the Thames. 
 
 That the establishment was patronized by none but the 
 very dregs of society could be seen at once. A respectable 
 person, or one with any money about him, would never 
 have dreamed of entering the neighbourhood. 
 
 Southwark, a hundred and forty years ago, was really a 
 most horrible place, and those who know the locality at 
 the present day will readily admit that there is even now 
 ample room for improvement in many respects. 
 
 The door of this house Blueskin found standing in- 
 vitingly open. In fact, it was very rarely closed, for those 
 who slept upon the premises were rather eccentric with 
 respect to the periods when they took that very necessary 
 refreshment. 
 
 With a great deal of difficulty the stone steps leading 
 up to the door were ascended, and the narrow, dingy 
 passage gained.
 
 106 
 
 BLUtSKlf? ! A ROMANCE. 
 
 Down this, however, he managed to slowly make his 
 wav, until he reached a small square aperture in the wall 
 — dignified hy tbe name of the bar-window— at which sat 
 a most repulsive-looking woman. 
 
 Her dress hung in tatters about her. 
 
 Her hair was in disorder. 
 
 Her face was begrimed with dirt, and he? eyes were 
 bleared and bloodshot. 
 
 " What do you want ? " she asked, in shrill, querulous 
 tones, for she was never over-civil, even to her best cus- 
 tomers. 
 
 " Rest," said Blaeskin, in as firm and loud a voice as he 
 could command. " I will pay you well for it." 
 
 He struck his pocket as he spoke. 
 
 The jingling sound produced had an instantaneous effect 
 upon the old harridan. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; to be sure ; I will attend to you in one 
 moment, sir." . , 
 
 She sprang off the stool upon which she bad been sitting 
 as she spoke, and, opening a door, emerged into the 
 passage. 
 
 " I have had lo fly for my life," exclaimed Blueskm, as 
 he noted the effect which his bedraggled appearance had 
 upon the hostess. " I have had to fly for my life, and am 
 well nigh exhausted. Let me rest awhile, and that I will 
 pay you well for your accommodation, let that be an 
 earnest." 
 
 While speaking, he plunged bis hand into the pocket 
 of his trousers and produced a guinea. 
 
 The eyes of the old woman glistened with an unholy 
 lustre as the yellow coin was dropped into her palm. 
 
 " Thanks, good 6ir ; thanks," she said. " You shall 
 have the best which the poor place affords, which is not 
 much however. Walk in here, sir, if you please." 
 
 With an obsequiousness that was really sickening, when 
 the cause which had produced it was known, the woman 
 ushered him into the little chamber where she bad been 
 sitting. 
 
 It was a truly miserable den, entirely destitute of every 
 thing m the shape of comfort. 
 
 The ceiling was grimed with soot. 
 
 The walls positively reeking with filth. 
 
 But, bad as the place was, Blueskin was right glad to 
 seat himself upon the chair which the old woman offi- 
 ciously placed for him. 
 
 " Is there anything more you would like ? " she asked. 
 " There is no licence to this house, but I can send out for 
 anything you want." 
 
 " No — no ! Never mind ! 1 shall do ! A rest is all I 
 require ! " 
 
 " Very good, sir ! Perhaps you would like a bed, though. 
 If you would, I can let you have one. A private room, 
 all to yourself." 
 
 "Can you?" 
 
 " X can, sir." 
 
 " Then I will accept your offer." 
 
 The woman's eyes glistened as the words reached her 
 ears, but with some trouble she concealed her exultation. 
 
 " I will see to the room being got ready, then- for you, 
 if you won't mind waiting a minute." 
 
 " Very good." 
 
 With eager haste, the old woman left the bar, carefully 
 closing the door after her. 
 
 That caution which usually attended Blueskin, seemed 
 on the present occasion to have abandoned him. 
 
 He noticed not the sinister appearance of the place, nor 
 the avaricious look upon the old hag's countenance. 
 
 He had assented to taking a bed, not only because he so 
 much wanted rest, but because he should be more out of 
 the way in case search should be made for him ; and from 
 what he knew of the great thief-taker he felt pretty sure 
 there very soon would be. 
 
 The thought of the amount of personal peril he might be 
 incurring by his sojourn in the suspicious-looking lodging- 
 bouse never entered his mind. 
 
 Yet none knew much better than himseM how many 
 fearful dens there were along the water-side, into which 
 it would be the height of imprudence for ar v °ie to 
 venture. 
 
 But there is every allowance to be made for bis being, 
 on the present occasion, blind to danger. 
 
 It may be as well to remind the reader that he had 
 about his person the whole of the money and valuables 
 which had fallen into his hands during his highway 
 
 expedition with Jack Sheppard, and this was no incon- 
 siderable amount. 
 
 At any rate, the old woman must have had some very 
 powerful motive for being so civil to one whose appear- 
 ance would certainly never of itself have commanded it. 
 
 But we will not anticipate events by explaining what 
 her motives were just at present. 
 
 She was only absent a few minutes. 
 
 " Now, sir," she said, as she returned, " all is ready, if 
 you will follow me." 
 
 Blueskin rose. 
 
 He felt sick and faint. 
 
 Not only was there the immersion in the cold Thames, 
 but also the wound in the neck, which the bullet from 
 Wild's pistol had inflicted. 
 
 This, though not what would be exactly called serious, 
 was yet more than skin deep, and a great quantity of blood 
 had effused from it. 
 
 From these two causes combined, then, it can be easily 
 seen that he must be dreadfully exhausted. Indeed, few 
 frames could have endured one half so much. 
 
 Right glad was he to follow the landlady of the lodging- 
 house out of the bar, across a passage, and up a flight of 
 dirty, crazy stairs. 
 
 At the top of these were several doors, one of which 
 she opened, and allowed him to enter a small room, in 
 which the first thing he noticed was a fire. 
 
 From its appearance it had evidently just been lighted. 
 
 Through the window came just enough morning light 
 to make the different objects visible. 
 
 " This is our best room, sir," said the landlady, with a 
 wave of the hand. " You will find everything qnite com- 
 fortable." 
 
 " No doubt — no doubt. Just listen to me." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " If any one comes here to make inquiries whether 
 you have seen a man answering to my description, just 
 say no." 
 
 The woman nodded. 
 
 " It will be nothing out of your pocket," added Blake. 
 " There are those after me who would gladly take my 
 life ; but so far I have escaped them, and shall do so 
 altogether, if " 
 
 " If I am silent," said the landlady. " Lor' bless you, 
 sir, I never knows nothing about my customers, if people 
 come and inquire. Don't be afraid, you'll be as safe 
 here as if you was " 
 
 She paused for a simile. 
 
 " As if I was in my coffin," added Blueskin. 
 
 " Lor ! " said she, as she gave a great start. 
 
 " Leave me. I have money, and will pay yon well for 
 your assistance. Leave me, I must rest." 
 
 " You won't have nothing to drink ? " 
 
 " No — no!" 
 
 " Very good, sir. Just as you like, sir, of course." 
 
 " I don't half like that woman," said Blueskin, as the 
 landlady closed the door after her. " She is no good, I 
 know, but she had better not play any tricks with me, or 
 she will find she has got the wrong fellow to deal with." 
 
 Going to the fire, he gave it a good poke, which caused 
 the fuel to burn up briskly, and burst into a blaze. 
 
 His next proceeding, before lying down, was to dry his 
 clothes. 
 
 This be did by standing before the fire. The easiest 
 and best plan would have been, of course, to take off his 
 clothes and dry them, but there were several reasons why 
 he thought it would be injudicious to do this. 
 
 Not the least of them was the dread that he had that 
 Wild might find him out, and if he did the only chance 
 he would have of defending himself would be lost to him 
 if he was undressed. 
 
 While drying himself, he also bound up his wound as 
 well aa he was able, for, from some cause or other, it had 
 began to bleed afresh. 
 
 In a little while after this, being quite overpowered, he 
 sank down upon the bed, and dropped into a deep slumber. 
 
 By this time it was quite broad day, but a thick, dark- 
 coloured curtain, which hung before the window, pre- 
 vented the light from entering, except in a subdued 
 fashion. 
 
 About a quarter of an hour after Blueskin fell asleep, 
 the handle of the door was turned cautiously and silently. 
 
 No further movement was then made for about a 
 minute.
 
 I 
 
 BLTTESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 197 
 
 At the expiry of that interval, however, ti» door 
 itself was gradually pushed open. 
 
 The hinge creaked slightly. 
 
 But this was disregarded. 
 
 Presently the door was opened far enough for a head to 
 be projected between its edge and the jamb into th* 
 room. 
 
 It was an old man's head. 
 
 The hair, long and straggling, was a grizzly gray. 
 
 His skin was puckered up into many deep wrinkles. 
 
 For only a moment did the head appear, and then it 
 was withdrawn again, but that moment sufficed for the 
 deeply-set eagle eyes within to take a survey of the whole 
 apartment. 
 
 Blueskin slumbered. 
 
 His attitude and stertorous breathing at once pro- 
 claimed that fact. 
 
 The head reappeared, and, after listening again to make 
 sure all was well, the old man crept into the chamber. 
 
 He assumed a strange crouching attitude, and his head 
 ehook tremulously from side to side as though afflicted 
 with eome palsical complaint. 
 
 Then, turning round, he beckoned with his finger to 
 eome one without. 
 
 The summons was obeyed. 
 
 A woman entered. 
 
 It was the landlady. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVI. 
 
 THE LANDLADY OF THE LODGING-HOUSE AND THE OLD 
 MAN COME TO A VERY BAD END INDEED. 
 
 The faint light which struggled through the thick 
 curtain drawu across the window distinctly revealed the 
 countenances of these two persons. 
 
 No human eye was there to look upon and note the ex- 
 pression which they wore. 
 
 Had there been, unless, indeed, their nerves were iron, 
 they would hay^ shuddered with horror as they saw it. 
 
 Stamped upon each, in the most legible characters, was 
 the word, murder ! 
 
 That was their awful errand to that silent room. 
 The money which they supposed Blueskin to have about 
 him was doubtless the incentive to the horrid deed. 
 
 Money, indeed, was the god they both worshiped with a 
 fervour and a zeal that would in former times, directed to a 
 different object, have caused their bones to be canonized, 
 and their names revered as saints. 
 
 The old man made a gesture to the old woman, which 
 she immediately comprehended. 
 
 She reclosed the door, and stooping down, slipped a bolt 
 into its socket. 
 
 Despite the care with which this operation was per- 
 formed, she could not help it making a slight sound, 
 which caused them, like guilty creatures as they were, to 
 start violently. 
 
 But it would have required a ten times louder noise 
 than that was to have aroused Blueskin from his heavy 
 sleep. 
 
 Satisfied that no alarm had been given, the p*U crawled 
 towards the bed. 
 
 The dimensions of the room were limited, eo it was 
 quickly reached. 
 
 The slumberer's position was one in every way suited to 
 the consummation of their purpose. 
 
 He lay upon his back, his limbs stretched out to their 
 full length, and his head thrown back, leaving the neck 
 
 It looked as though it had originally been a carving- 
 
 knife, and ground down to its present dagger-like shape. 
 
 Grasping it firmly by the bilt, she raised it above her 
 
 head. 
 
 With her other hand she felt for the slumberer's heart. 
 
 This was the point at which she aimed. It might have 
 
 been previous experience that had taught her that that 
 
 was the surest and quickest way of robbing one of life. 
 
 The old man stood by quietly— his turn had not come to 
 
 take part in these diabolical and murderous proceedings. 
 
 The precious landlady, having found her mark, now 
 
 brought the knife down with full force and suddenness 
 
 upon Blueskin's breast. 
 
 But a result ensued for which 6he was quite unprepared. 
 
 The point of the weapon, instead of sinking into soft 
 
 flesh, as she expected, struck against some hard substance 
 
 like iron or steel. 
 
 She uttered a howl of agony, and let the knife fall from 
 her bruised fingers. 
 
 A terrible cry also burst from Blueskin's lips, for, of 
 course, this had awakened him. 
 
 He had laid down with his hanger drawn and handy to 
 his grasp. 
 
 Seizing it, therefore— although when he did so he 
 could not be said to be thoroughly awake — he sprang to 
 his feet. 
 
 Yelling for mercy, the old man sank down upon his 
 knees. 
 
 But the landlady rushed to the door, and made a frantic 
 attempt to leave the room. 
 
 " Stop ! " said Blueskin, as with his left hand he drew 
 a pistol from his belt and held it at arm's length. " Stop, 
 or I fire." 
 
 His accents were so full of determination that tha 
 woman, perforce, obeyed. 
 
 " Now," he continued, " explain this this moment ! 
 Make the least movement, either to attack me or to escape, 
 and I will slay you without mercy. It is fortunate I wore 
 over my heart a piece of highly-tempered steel. It has 
 been the means of saving my life upon more than one 
 occasion. Now, then, what was the meaning of thi* 
 attack upon my life ? " 
 " Mercy — mercy ! " 
 
 " I will show none if you do not speak at once." 
 " Spare our lives, good sir ! Spare our Lives ! " 
 ,: What right have you to make such a prayer P But 
 all will depend upon your answer. Do you hear me ? 
 Was it to rob me that you wished to take my life P " 
 " Ye-s, sir. Mercy — mercy ! " 
 " No one set you on ? " 
 " No — no, sir, no." 
 
 The idea appeared to hold momentary possession of 
 Blueskin's mind that some one had instigated them to 
 murder him, but a moment's thought told him that it was 
 an absurd one. 
 
 Avarice — the sin that has prompted the commission of 
 more sins than aught else — was the sole motive that had 
 actuated the poor wretches before him. 
 
 He knew not what other people there might be in the 
 house ready and willing to render them assistance, and in 
 his weak state he would easily be overpowered by 
 numbers; and so it was his best policy to get out of the 
 house as quickly as possible. 
 
 But he was unwilling to do so without inflicting some 
 punishment upon those who had in so base a manner 
 attempted to take his life, though, having asked for mercv, 
 he did not like to slay them in cold blood, though, had he 
 done so, it would have been no more than they deserved. 
 He glanced round him for something that would suit 
 
 naked and exposed 
 
 But this attitude served also to show the muscular J his purpose, but, save the bedclothes, he saw nothing. 
 development of their guest, and to show them how[ He determined to make one of the sheets available ' 
 
 formidable an antagonist he would be, unless they took 
 him at unawares. 
 
 The contrast between him and the two wretches by 
 whom his life was menaced was great indeed. 
 
 Of the two the old man appeared to be the strongest, 
 but what the woman lacked in strength was more than 
 compensated for by coolness of nerve. 
 
 And now, having reached the bed, they did not hesitate 
 a single moment. ' 
 
 From some place in the breast of her clothing , ri , 
 hideous old woman drew forth a knife. 
 
 The haft was white, and the blade long, sharp, and glit- 
 tering. 
 
 By dint of the most terrible threats, he compelled the 
 two abject beings to stand close to each other. 
 
 Then, stripping the clothes off the bed, he twisted the 
 top sheet into a kind of rope, and with this he bound them 
 tightly to each other in such a fashion that neither could 
 move in the least. 
 
 This done, he doubled one of the blankets and put it 
 over their heads, securing it in that position by means of 
 the other sheet, twisted up in the same manner as the 
 former one. 
 
 When this was done, they were, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, quite helpless. 
 
 But he had not done with them yet.
 
 198 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 They should suffer some inconvenience, he determined. 
 
 By the side of the fireplace he noticed a large cupboard. 
 
 " That will be the very place." he muttered. "I will 
 atuff them in there, and then, if no one finds them, it is no 
 fault cf mine." 
 
 Before he had finished making this reflection ho had 
 begun to drag them, in spite of their resistance, along the 
 floor. 
 
 The key was in the lock of the cupboard door, so, turn- 
 ing it round, he opeued it. 
 
 Somewhat to his surprise, he found that there was only 
 one shelf in it, and that very near the top. 
 
 But it was not, strictly speaking, until afterwards that 
 this struck him. 
 
 With one vigorous push, having got them close to it, 
 he pushed them inside. 
 
 Ere, however, he could close the door, he was startled 
 by a rushing sound, and a duD, muffled shriek. 
 
 A heavy splash succeeded. 
 
 For a moment Blueskin was so astounded that he stood 
 like one suddenly changed to stone. 
 
 The very instant that the two bodies reached the floor 
 of the cupboard it gave way beneath them, and they dis- 
 appeared from sight with the greatest swiftness conceiv- 
 able. 
 
 It was their falling for some distance down a kind of 
 well-like place that made the rushing noise. 
 
 The muffled shriek had come from their lips as they 
 descended. 
 
 The heavy splash was when they reached the depths 
 below. 
 
 It was water. 
 
 So rapidly was this done that Blueskin could scarcely 
 bring himself to believe that it had really happened. 
 
 But it was ©as of those circumstances that will not for 
 very long admit of the possibility of a doubt. 
 
 Recovering himself, he sprang to the window, and with 
 one snatch pulled down the curtain which hung before it. 
 
 A glare of daylight of course came into the room the 
 moment this was done, revealing its darkest recesses. 
 
 Blueskin then walked to the cupboard. 
 
 The door had swung partially shut, but he pushed it 
 wide open. 
 
 Holding firmly by the woodwork, he looked within. 
 
 Then he saw that bottom to the cupboard there was 
 none, and that instead there was a kind of square pit, the 
 depth of which he could only estimate by the length of 
 time it had taken the bodies to reach the bottom. 
 
 Bending still more over the abyss, he listened to see 
 whether any sounds would come up from below. 
 
 But all was silent, and though he remained in the same 
 attitude for several minutes, nothing came to indicate that 
 the infamous lodging-house keepers were in life. 
 
 " This is very strange," Blueskin said ; " very strange 
 and very awful. I little thought that they would receive 
 their death at my hand. But it is just, perhaps, after all. 
 No doubt that pit is the receptacle of many a poor traveller 
 whom they have murdered ! It would probably have been 
 my resting-place had not the steel plate I always wear 
 prevented them from achieving their object. 1 must 
 leave this place, though — I must leave this place. There 
 is no knowing what danger I may incur by lingering 
 here." 
 
 This was true, so he at once set about taking his de- 
 parture. 
 
 Unbolting the room door, he opened it and went out 
 upon the stairs. 
 
 But before he descended them, he listened whether any 
 ene was stirring. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 Nevertheless he crept down the staircase with the ut- 
 most silence and caution. 
 
 They terminated in the passage. 
 
 A hasty glance showed him that it was vacant, and that 
 the front door was standing open. 
 
 To dart out into the street was the work of a moment 
 Only, and he drew a long breath as he did so. 
 
 "Now for Jack Sheppard ! " he said, as he turned his 
 face towards the river. " Is he a prisoner, I wonder, or 
 has he, like me, managed to escape? That is a point 
 w bioh I will very quickly ascertain." 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVII. 
 
 JONATK^T? WILD RECEIVES A VERY IMPORTANT COM- 
 MUNICATION IN A VERY MYSTERIOUS MANNER. 
 
 While the d/ramatis personcs of our story continue to be 
 so widely separated as they now are, and as they have for 
 some time been, it must inevitably occur that, while we are 
 giving our attention to some, we neglect others. 
 
 But so far as possible, every one has had his turn. 
 
 The adventures of Edgworth Bess and Colonel Thome 
 have been brought up to a certain poiut, and so too have 
 those of Jack Sheppard and his two companions. 
 
 Blueskin also has been followed for a length of time, and 
 now that he is not in a situation of any special danger, we 
 feel that for a time he can be left, while a few pages are 
 devoted to the proceedings of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Of late he has certainly been very much neglected, but 
 it was presumed that a greater interest was felt in those to 
 whom he was a bane, than there was in himself. 
 
 If the reader will cany back his recollection a little, he 
 will find that the last that was seen of him was on that 
 morning when, after his unsuccessful pursuit of Blueskin 
 on the Thames, he had returned to his own residence in 
 Newgate-street, under the full impression that he should 
 find there Jack Sheppard and the two men in whose 
 custody he had left him. 
 
 We know already how disappointed he was in that 
 anticipation, but we certainly shall not attempt to 
 transcribe the awful volley of curses which poured from 
 his lips when he was made the recipient of the startling 
 irtelligence that nothing whatever had been seen of either 
 of them. 
 
 He could hardly believe in the possibility of such a thing 
 at first, but, when his ire had subsided a little, he cried — 
 
 " The horses — the horses ! Have the horses at the door 
 at once ! Six ! Call up the men ! Quick, I say ! " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild," gasped Tonks, who was in momentary 
 dread of receiving something from his imperious master 
 harder to put up with than words. " Yes, Mr. Wild. In 
 one moment, sir." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! Be quick, I say." 
 
 He stalked down the passage as he spoke, and entered 
 his office. 
 
 " Brandy," he cried. " I must h&re brandy. Curse 
 that Jack Sheppard ! Am I always to be thwarted by 
 him ? Is he always to slip through my fingers when I 
 think I have got him secure. No. Jonathan Wild shall 
 never be balked by a stripling like that. I will capture 
 him if I live, and, when I do, I will take good care that 
 he does not escape. I have sworn to bring him to Tyburn, 
 as I have done many a better man, and I renew the oath. 
 Ah!" 
 
 While speaking, Jonathan had lifted the sloping lid of 
 his desk and took out a small black bottle of brandy, which 
 he carried to his lips and emptied at a draught. 
 
 This done, he looked to his weapons and ammunition. 
 
 His powder-flask and shot-pouch were replenished. 
 
 He carefully loaded and primed his pistols. 
 
 Then walked back into the passage. 
 
 Here six of his janizaries had assembled, for such was 
 the state of discipline to which he had brought them, that 
 they obeyed with as much promptitude as soldiers. 
 
 " Ya — ah," he growled. " See all your pistols loaded, for 
 you will have some warm work to do, I expect. Where 
 are the horses ? " 
 
 " They will be at the door in one moment, if you please, 
 Mr. Wild." 
 
 It was Tonks who spoke, and, even as the words passed 
 his lips, the trampling of horses was heard outside. 
 
 " There they are, sir," he said, as he flung open the 
 front door. 
 
 " Follow me," said Wild, darting out. " Follow me." 
 
 In a disorderly throng they followed him down the steps 
 into the street. 
 
 With what speed they could, they scrambled into their 
 saddles. 
 
 As it happened, they were all seated before their 
 master, for, having approached his horse in a savage mood, 
 he had kicked it brutally on the leg because it would not 
 stand still. 
 
 The consequence was as might naturally be expected. 
 
 The horse was not so afraid of the thief-taker as his 
 men were, and it did not hesitate to show its resentment 
 by kicking and plunging, and that in such a manner that
 
 i 
 
 BLTJESRIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 }9<* 
 
 it became an impossibility for him to place his foot In the 
 stirrup. 
 
 Tms did not tend to in any way abate Wild's ill temper, 
 »nd the curses which he uttered were really awful to 
 bear. 
 
 Presently, however, he spied an opportunity, and at tie 
 risk of his own neck, put his foot in the stirrup. 
 But he mounted in perfect safety. 
 No sooner, however, had he got his s^at upon the 
 creature's back, than he proceeded to vent his ill humour 
 upon it. 
 
 With brutal recklessness, he plunged his spurs again 
 and again into the flanks of his steed, until it uttered loud 
 snorts of pain. 
 
 The way in which it pranced and reared would have 
 thrown many a practised rider, but by some strange means 
 or other, Jonathan held on. 
 
 Away they went, as though a legion of fiends was at 
 their heels, down the Old Bailey, and on to Ludgate-hill. 
 With unabated speed they swept down this busy 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 The approach to the old bridge was quickly gained. 
 Here he slackened a little. 
 The horse was completely cowed. 
 
 Looking restlessly from side to side, allowing nothing 
 to escape his eagle glance, Jonathan went on across the 
 bridge, for the hope that he should find his men waiting 
 there for him still held a resting-place in his heart. 
 
 But nothing of them could he see, until, having gone 
 some distance down the Blaekfriars-road, he turned back 
 again towards London. 
 
 Blinded as he was by rage, yet he was both puzzled and 
 alarmed. 
 
 In no way that he could think of was he able to ■v* v_ ^ , t 
 for the disappearance of his two men. 
 
 The thought that they had left his service, and consented 
 to join their fortunes to those of Jack Sheppard, %£jer 
 occurred to him for a moment, or, if it did, he considered 
 it as being altogether too preposterous to be entertained. 
 
 And now from house to house he went, making the most 
 rigid inquiries, but nowhere could he learn anything. 
 
 Thoroughly satisfied, at length, that it would be quite 
 futile to search or inquire any further, he made his way 
 into Fleet-street. 
 
 Here he paused, and, after a moment's thought, instead 
 of going back to his own house, he turned his horse's head 
 in the direction of Drury-lane. 
 
 Once before he had learned tidings there of the persons 
 he pursued, and why should he not do so again. 
 
 It did not take him very long to reach the " Old Black 
 Lion," and having done so, he dismounted, and commanded 
 his followers to do so likewise. 
 
 A man who was lounging about, at a sign from him 
 took charge of the horses. 
 He entered the iuu, closely followed by his men. 
 It will be remembered that on tbe occasion of his former 
 visit, he had left two of his men there to keep guard. 
 
 These, upon hearing him arrive, instantly approached 
 him. 
 
 Bat they neclnred, in the most positive manner, that 
 nothing had been seen, either of Sheppard or Blueskin ; 
 in fact, they were certain neither had been there. 
 
 The reader must bear in mind that this was the morn- 
 ing of tbe day upon the evening of which Jack had made 
 a visit to the old place. 
 
 In a worse temper than ever, Jonathan turned away, and 
 t amounted his horse. 
 
 He shaped his course to Newgate-street, for his business 
 had been rather neglected of late, for as for searching for 
 hi? prey through London, no one knew better thau him- 
 self the inutility of that when there was nothing to serve 
 hiwi as a clue. 
 
 He argued that no long time could possibly elapse before 
 he heard something of them, and that would afford him 
 the oppportunity to act. 
 
 Besides which, he had other matters on hand. None of 
 them perhaps so important to him as they were, but then, 
 notwithstanding that, they required attention. 
 
 Therefore he made the best of his way back to the 
 place from which he had started, for even now the hour 
 was an early one, and he would be able to get back before 
 the business of the day began 
 
 plaee that morning, would have ventured to intrude upon 
 the thief-taker on that day at least. 
 
 Without the occurrence of anything important enough 
 for us to record it, Newgate-street was reached. 
 
 Wild flung himself off his horse* and left it to take care 
 of itself. 
 
 He had had a new master-key made since Jack stole 
 the one he formerly carried, and not only that, he had 
 had some alterations made in the locks themselves, which 
 would make the old key quite useless. 
 
 It so happened that Tonks' turn of duty had expired. 
 
 He was succeeded by Quilt Arnold. 
 
 Jonathan rammed his key in the lock, and swung the 
 door back with all the force he possibly could. 
 
 But Quilt, who had been for some time in his employ, 
 was acquainted with all his little amiable tricks, so he 
 took good care to stand aside and let the door bang harm- 
 lessly against the wall, which it did, but it made a most 
 horrible clatter. 
 
 Jonathan did not deign to open his lips, but stalked 
 down the hall or passage of his house like some grim old 
 giant along the corridor of his castle. 
 
 In nine cases out of ten, when he entered his house, 
 the first place that he went into was his office, and so he 
 did upon the present occasion. 
 
 Passing through the half -door in the wooden railings, 
 which divided the room into two portions, he shut it 
 behind him, and mounted his stool. 
 
 Now he came to sit down he found how much he must 
 have been exerting himself for he broke out all over in a 
 profuse perspiration 
 
 He drew out a spotted blue pocket-handkerchief, and 
 wiped his disagreeable-looking face with it. 
 
 Then he twitched his wig violently. 
 
 Nothing vexed the great Jonathan so much as being 
 foiled, and lately he had, in connexion with Sheppard and 
 Blueskin, met with nothing but defeat. 
 
 His ruminations, however, were not destined to extend 
 to any great length. 
 
 They were interrupted by a faint tap,, tap upon the 
 panel of the door. 
 
 " Who's there ? " he yelled. 
 " Me, sir, if you please ! " 
 
 It was Quilt Arnold's voice. 
 " Come in, then ! " 
 
 Accordingly, although it was with no small degree of 
 hesitation, the janizary opened the door. 
 " Well, villain," said Wild, "what is it ? " 
 " A man, Mr. Wild, if you please, wants to see you on 
 some very important business indeed !" 
 " What's his name ? " 
 " Glucks ! " 
 
 Bat we fancy no one, who knew just what had taken I breadth four, in depth three 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS VEKY UNEASY AND ALARMED ABOUT 
 THE MYSTERIOUS BOX. 
 
 " Glucks ! " roared Jonathan Wild. " What do you mean 
 by Glucks?" 
 
 " That is his name, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Bah!'; 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Send him in." 
 
 " All right, sir ! He's in No. 2." 
 
 Quilt Arnold vanished with these words on his lips, 
 felicitating himself upon his good luck. 
 
 With all the speed he possibly could, he made his way 
 across the passage to the well-known little waiting-room, . 
 which was always known as No. 2, in order to tell the 
 man with the strange name that Jonathan Wild would 
 see him. 
 
 I't was a very strange name, and ono might almost 
 argue from it that a man with such a strange name must 
 want to see the thief-taker upon very strange business. 
 
 But be his business what it may, and whether strange 
 Or not, we shall very quickly know. 
 
 _ Upon receiving the intimation from Quilt, he rose hur- 
 riedly to his feet from the seat upon which he had been 
 sitting, and in a nervous sort of manner picked up a mys- 
 terious-looking box. 
 
 This he held tightly, as though it was something of 
 great importance. 
 
 In length it was probably eight or nine inches, in
 
 sou 
 
 BLUESKIN : A. ROMANCE. 
 
 Of what material it was made it would have puzzled 
 any one at a first glance to tell, but upon one of the four 
 aides was an inscription of some kind, in white letters. 
 
 And now, having described the box, we feel ourselves 
 bound to extend the same courtesy to its possessor. 
 
 He was a young man probably twenty or two-and-twenty 
 years of age. 
 
 His form was slight, and his bones hung loosely to- 
 gether, or, as one would say, " half-set." 
 
 His face was pale and emaciated. 
 
 The cheeks sunken. 
 
 Three little tufts of downy, sandy hair were on his face. 
 
 One— the largest — was situated upon the extreme point 
 of his chin, and, when pulled out quite straight, might have 
 been an inch or an inch and a half in length. 
 
 The other two tufts, which were very much smaller, 
 grew on his cheeks, where whiskers should have been. 
 
 His eyes, which were very deeply set, had a peculiar 
 dreamy expression. 
 
 His hair, which was very black, was suffered to grow 
 to a great length, and was combed down with scrupulous 
 straightness. 
 
 His attire was black as well. 
 
 Such was the strange being who answered to the name 
 of Mr. Glucks, and, if we have succeeded in sketching him 
 properly, the reader will agree that his personal appear- 
 ance was quite upon a par with his name. 
 
 In a bashful, diffident kind of way he followed Quilt 
 Arnold, and presently he stood within the lion's den, and 
 face to face with the lion himself. 
 
 Jonathan Wild gave a grin as this peculiar specimen of 
 human kind presented itself before him. 
 
 " Mr. Wild," said Mr. Glucks, in a diffident tone of 
 voice, and shifting the box about as he snoke, " Mr. 
 Wild ! " 
 
 "Ya— ah." 
 
 The horrible sound was almost too much for Mr. Glucks. 
 He started back, and looked very much as though he medi- 
 tated a wild rush to the door. 
 
 But Jonathan's next words stopped him. 
 
 " Now then," he growled. " What do you want. Speak 
 quick, and don't use any more words than you are obliged. 
 Go on." 
 
 Mr. Glucks licked his lips. 
 
 He was in a state of the greatest possible trepidation, 
 and it was quite a minute before he could command 
 his voice sufficiently to speak. 
 
 Jonathan enjoyed his confusion immensely. 
 
 " I have ventured to call," said Mr. Glucks, at length, 
 " upon something I fancy of importance to yourself." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " This box, Mr. Wild." 
 
 As he pronounced these words, Mr. Glucks handed 
 Jonathan the mysterious -looking box. 
 
 Now Wild had, in a general way, a sort of dread of any- 
 thing mysterious or unusual. 
 
 On the present occasion, this feeling so far had the 
 mastery of him that he would not. hold out his hand to 
 take the box. 
 
 " Put it down," he said. 
 
 Mr. Glucks obeyed. 
 
 It balanced just on the railing before the desk. 
 
 " What's in that ? " said Wild, snappishly, after eyeing 
 it for some few moments suspiciously. " What's it got to 
 do with me ? " 
 
 " I don't know, Mr. Wild," replied Mr. Glucks, whose 
 alarm had by no means subsided. 
 
 " Then what did you bring it to me for, eh I* " 
 
 " Be good enough to look on the lid." 
 
 " The lid ? " 
 
 " Yes. There's an inscription on it." 
 
 Jonathan Wild looked at the box again. 
 
 But as it was placed, he could not read the inscription, 
 though he could see it. 
 
 Why it was he had such a repugnance to touching the 
 box he would have been put about to tell. But he had, 
 and there was no mistake about it . 
 
 After straining his eyes and neck in a vain endeavour 
 to decipher it, he gave it up. 
 
 But his bludgeon lay on the desk beside him, convenient 
 to his grasp, and so, taking it in hia hand, he poked the 
 box with it till it fell off the railing on to the desk itself. 
 
 It did not fall as though there was anything very heavy 
 in it, but it did not sound empty for all that. 
 
 Jonathan drew back as it fell, but seeing all continued 
 as before, he took courage, and poked it with the cudgel 
 again, until the part with the letters on it was turned 
 towards him. 
 
 Then, to his intense surprise, he read as follows :— 
 
 Take thie Bom immediately to 
 
 MR. JONATHAN WILD, 
 Newgate Street, 
 
 LONDON, 
 And he will Reward you for your trouble. 
 
 Jonathan Wild read this inscription twice. 
 
 Then he raised his head, and looked inquiringly into 
 the face of Mr. Glucks , * 
 
 "What's that mean?/" he cried. "Mind!" and he 
 flourished his bludgeon ominously, "mind what you're 
 saying." 
 
 " I don't kuow wtat it means, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " What made you bring it to me ? " 
 
 " Because of the inscription." 
 
 " Then where did you get it P" 
 
 " Found it, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Found it?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Where ? Speak ! Tell me ! Beware of speaking 
 anything but the truth, for though mine is a most amiable 
 temper, yet I am not a man to stand trifling with." 
 
 "I wouldn't trifle with you for the world, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You had better not. Now, where did you find this 
 infernal box ? " 
 
 " Infernal box ? " 
 
 " Yes, or damnable box, if you like that better, or box 
 without the damnable. Ya — ah ! " 
 
 Wild made a hideous roaring noise, and accompanied it 
 with a contortion of countenance so truly horrible to look 
 upon, that Mr. Glucks, whose nerves did not appear to be 
 over strong, almost fainted outright with terror. 
 
 But he could see his best plan of action was to reply 
 without delay to the questions asked of him. 
 
 " Dover ! Dover ! " he gasped. " I found it at Dover, 
 Mr. Wild." 
 
 " At Dover ! Whereabouts ?" 
 
 " On the sea-shore." 
 
 "The" 
 
 Jonathan stopped. 
 
 But Mr. Glucks finished the sentence. 
 
 " Sea-shore." 
 
 "Speak out!" roared Jonathan. "Don't keep me in 
 suspense. Speak out, I say ! " 
 
 " I am, Mr. Wild. It is my delight, for I am a wor- 
 shipper of the Muses, and those celestial goddesses have 
 infused poetical inspirations into my soul. It is my delight, 
 in the early morning, when the inhabitants of the earth 
 all slumber, to fly from my restless couch and repair to 
 the margin of the sea, where alone and unseen I can 
 commune with nature in all her glory. Ou such occa- 
 sions my soul soars as upon the pinions of an eagle, 
 above base, sordid humanity, wherewith I am sur- 
 rounded. I pace with reverent footsteps along the 
 pebbly beach, and from evei-y object draw a subject for 
 a poem, and when, as I walked, I saw that mysterious 
 box cast up at my feet" 
 
 " Ya — ah ! " said Wild, who tried in vain to make some- 
 thing of Mr. Glucks' narration. " Ya — ah ! Shut up 
 your spoouey trap, and answer me." 
 
 " I am a poet, Mr. Wild," said Mr. Glucks — " a sensi- 
 tive plant — a — a — in fine, a poet, and " 
 
 " A poet," mimicked Wild ; " bah ! bo ! Shut up ! You 
 say you were on the sea-shore, walking along, when the 
 tide washed this up to your feet ? " 
 
 " Such is a prosaic rendering of a most poetical inci- 
 dent." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " said Wild, again, who had the greatest 
 contempt for all poets and poetry. " Will you take youi 
 oath tc what you have said ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. 'Wild." 
 
 " And was the box addressed as I see it now f"
 
 BLUJiSKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 [JOHN ROOTS IS SHOT ON THE STAIRCASE BY MATTHEW TLOOD.] 
 
 " It was, air." 
 
 "Strange!" 
 
 " Very strange ! " 
 
 " Who the devil told you to say it was strange ? Did 
 you open it to see what was in it ?*' 
 
 " I, Mr. Wild ? No, I would for ever scom an act so 
 base — so" 
 
 Jonathan did not speak, but he shook his cudgel so 
 fiercely that Mr. Glucks stopped short in his poetical 
 flight. 
 
 ' And you don't know what's inside ?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Have you carried it safe ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I mean it hasn't hurt you at all ? " 
 
 " What do you mean, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 " Mean, why how do you know what's inside it ? For 
 all you know, it might be filled with gunpowder ! " 
 
 Mr. Glucks turned pale at the idea, and drew back a 
 step. 
 
 " You don't mean to say there's gunpowder in it, Mr 
 Wild ?" 
 
 " I don't know what there is in it, but I very soon will. 
 Take it, and open it this minute, and tell me what's inside, 
 or take it — take it, I say." 
 
 " Gunpowder ! " said Mr. Glucks. 
 
 CHAPTER CXXXIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD COMPELS MR. GLUCKS TO OPEN THE 
 MYSTERIOUS BOX. 
 
 T^ere was something very strange about that box. 
 
 But yet one would think there was not enough to alarm 
 Jonathan Wild in the way that he seemed to be. 
 
 He would not touch it. 
 
 The reason was this. 
 
 It was impossible for any one in the position he occu- 
 pied not to have very many enemies. 
 
 And he knew it as well as anybody. 
 
 So long as they tried openly against him he did not car*. 
 
 Be. 26.
 
 BLUK.SKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 What bo feared was that an attempt would be mode 
 upon his liio at a moment when he was unguarded, and 
 by a means which would never be expected. 
 
 .Now, Jonathan Wild had a vivid recollection of having 
 once read how a very celebrated personage was once put / 
 to death bj his enemies, by having a casket presented to 
 him. 
 
 This casket, which was supposed to contain jewels of 
 great value, was placed iu Lis hands securely locked. 
 
 Not dreaming of any danger, the nobleman — for such 
 he was — proceeded to open it. 
 
 No sooner, however, had he inserted the key and 
 turned it round in the wards of the lock than, with a noise 
 like thunder, the box exploded. 
 
 He was seated iu his cabinet alone when this took 
 place, but the attendants in his mansion heard the report, 
 and hastened to the door of the room. 
 
 This, in order that he might not be disturbed, the 
 unfortunate nobleman had securely fastened. 
 
 It was broken open, however, and the servants entered. 
 
 They fouud the apartment full of dense blue smoke. 
 
 At first they could see nothing, but by degrees the 
 vapour cleared away. 
 
 Then was presented to their view a spectacle for which 
 they were ill prepared. 
 
 Extended upon the ground, with his head and the upper 
 portion of his body fearfully shattered, was their master. 
 
 He was quite dead. 
 
 One glance at the bleeding, palpitating mass sufficed to 
 show that it was impossible for life to cling to it. 
 
 Of the box scarcely a vestige remained. 
 
 The whole circumstance continued to be a profound 
 mystery for many years. 
 
 At length it was cleared up. 
 
 The supposititious casket of jewels was a device of his 
 enemies in order to procure his destruction. ^ 
 
 They succeeded. 
 
 The box was filled with explosive materials, and the 
 interior was so arranged that the turning of the key pro- 
 duced the same effect as pulling the trigger of a fire-arm. 
 
 To any one such a remarkable story as this would be 
 full of interest, and the extraordinary nature of the inci- 
 dents would make a deep impression upon the mind of 
 any one. 
 
 But upon the mind of Jonathan Wild they fell with 
 more than usual force. 
 
 From the very time that he had read this, he had had 
 the most invincible dread of anything mysterious. 
 
 Before that, the idea that his life would be attempted to 
 be taken in some way calculated to throw any one off their 
 guard had dimly haunted his imagination, but afterwards 
 that idea had taken consistency in form. 
 
 He knew how many there were to whom he was a con- 
 tinual curse, and he knew as well that many of them were 
 unscrupulous enough to avail themselves of any means, 
 however base, that presented a reasonable prospect of 
 ridding them of him. 
 
 Naturally enough, then, when he saw this box with the 
 tempting inscription on tb3 lid, he, in a manner of speak- 
 ing, jumped to the conilusion that some mischief or 
 danger to him lurked within it. 
 
 So he was loath even to touch it, except with the 
 top of his bludgeon, and that he did with very great 
 trepidation. 
 
 It might be, of course, that the box contained nothing 
 mischievous, but that could only be told by opening it. 
 
 This Jonathan Wild firmly determined not to do. 
 
 There were too many mysterious circumstances about it. 
 
 Not the least of them was the strange behaviour snd 
 appearance of the strange being who had brought it to 
 him. 
 
 The manner in which he stated it had come infe? Ms 
 possession was equally stray. £ 
 
 Jonathan, however, came to the conclusion, and very 
 correctly, that Mr. Glucks was unacquainted with the con- 
 tents of the box. 
 
 Had ho known they were of a dangerous character, he 
 would never have run the risk of bringing it in pericn. 
 
 His astonishment and alarm, too, when Jonathan had 
 suc-jrested that it might be dangerous to hold or open it, 
 were too genuine to be feigned. 
 
 '• Take it," Wild roared, as he perceived his visitor re- 
 treat, with the word gunpowder upon his lips. " Take it, 
 I say! Do you hear me? You had better ! " 
 
 But Mr. Glucks was too much frightened. 
 His nerves were of a very weak character indeed, and 
 P'ich a scene as this was more than he could go through. 
 He sank down upon the ground in a swoon. 
 Jonathan got off his stool. 
 
 Anger and astonishment contended fiercely in hi§ 
 b.east. 
 Pit the former seemed to have the mastenj. 
 At least one would have thought so, had they seen him 
 make his way to where Mr. Glucks, in a strange, doubled- 
 up fashion, lay upon the office floor. 
 
 Raising his ponderous foot, he dealt the unfortunate 
 young man so terrible a kick, that it is greatly to be mar- 
 velled at that it did not demolish his slender anatomy 
 altogether. 
 
 "Now then," growled the thief-taker, "get up, will 
 you ? Don't think to impose upon me. Yon are only 
 shamming, and you know it. Get up." 
 He saluted him with another kick. 
 But though poor Mr. Glucks moved slightly, he showed 
 no symptoms of recovering from his swoon. 
 
 "He aint shamming, then," said Wild. "Curse him, 
 and the box and all. What shall I do with both ? " 
 
 He cast a dubious and dissatisfied glance at the little 
 box, which lay to all appearance harmlessly enough upon 
 the slope of the desk. 
 " I must think a bit," said Wild, after a pause. 
 But he did not return to his desk. 
 On the contrary, he retired to that part of the room 
 most distant from it. 
 
 Then, leaning his back against the wall, he gave him- 
 self up to reflections. 
 
 It was really ludicrous to see the doughty thief-taker 
 so terrified at such a harmless, common-place looking 
 thing. 
 
 But curiosity soon began to exercise its sway upon his 
 ^iind. 
 
 " I'll know what's in that box," he said. " I am deter- 
 mined I will. Who knows ? Perhaps it is nothing hurt- 
 ful, but of the greatest consequence to me. But I don't 
 think it is — 1 don't think it is. It must bo a scheme on 
 the part of my enemies to put me to death ; but, ha ! ha! 
 they will find Jonathan Wild a match for them." 
 
 He chuckled for some few moments in that odd gutteral 
 fashion, as was usual with him when he was pleased. 
 
 " 1 must get rid of this fool," he muttered, as his eyes 
 fell upou Mr. Glucks. " I must get rid of him, and then I 
 will thiuk how I'll get the box open. Stop! A good idea. 
 There's Levee. Curse him ! he laughed at me when he 
 thought I was not by. I remember it. That will be a 
 good way to serve him out. Ha! ha! Mr. Levee, I will 
 be even with you, at least." 
 
 The reader will doubtless remember the occasion to 
 which Jonathan alluded, aud when poor Levee by his 
 iucaution had incurred the resentment of his imperious 
 master. 
 
 It looks now as though he was about to pay dearly for 
 his pleasantry. 
 
 When Jonathan Wild the great made up his mind to do 
 a thing he always set about it at once. 
 
 Going, then, to the door of the office, he opened it a 
 little way, and projected his villainous -looking head into 
 the passage. 
 
 Quilt Arnold was still upon the lock, and, fortunately 
 for him, he was attending to his duty. 
 " Quilt ! " veiled Wild ; " Quilt ! " 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Come here ; I want you." 
 Jonathan withdrew his head into the office again. 
 Quilt, of course, made all the speed he could across the 
 passage, and into the room where his master awaited 
 him. 
 
 He was, of course, iu no small degree astonished when 
 he saw Mr. Glncks lying to all appearance dead upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " Carry him out," said Jonathan. 
 ■' Is he dead, Mr. Wild?" 
 
 " Dead ! No, fool, he isn't ; he's only swooned, or some- 
 thing of that sort. Carry him out and give him to the 
 watch, and let them lock him up for being drunk and 
 disorderly." 
 
 Experience had taught Quilt Arnold the policy of im- 
 plicitly obeying his master, so he at once, without a word 
 of either question or remonstrance, toot hold of Mr.
 
 BLUESKIN: A BOMANCB 
 
 203" 
 
 Glucks by the heels, and began to drag him out into the 
 passage. 
 
 Jonathan looked on in grim silence. 
 
 As soon as Quilt had fairly disappeared with Lim, he 
 said — 
 
 " Now for Levee ! Stop a bit ; I won't arouse his sus- 
 picions if I can help it. Let him fall into the snare with 
 his eyes shut. I wonder whether I dare venture to touch 
 the box. That fool carried it without being hurt. I'll 
 risk it, for I should not like him to see the label ; he 
 might suspect something." 
 
 With manifest uneasiness and apprehension, Jonathan 
 went to his desk, and reseated himself upon his stool. 
 
 There lay the box, with the inscription staring him in 
 the face. 
 
 Then he, for the first time, noticed that the address was 
 painted on the lid of the box itself, with white paint. 
 
 To remove it, therefore, would be difficult. 
 
 He looked at it for a moment in silence. 
 
 " Sha'nt touch it," he said, at length. " Too much 
 risk. Let him make what he can of it. I'll call him !" 
 
 He raised his cudgel as he spoke, and banged it fiaiously 
 upon the desk. 
 
 Quilt Arnold, who bad disposed of Mr. ducks in the 
 manner commanded by his master, re-appeared. 
 
 " Where's Levee?" 
 
 " Up stairs, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Call him ! I want him." 
 
 * Yes, Mr. Wild. 
 
 Quilt vanished. 
 
 Jonathan resumed his old favourite attitude. 
 
 But his reflections, whatever they were, did not con- 
 tinue long, for some one tapped, in a very faint manner, 
 upon the panel of the door. 
 
 "Come in!" roared Jonathan, at the very top of his 
 voice. " Come in ! and don't stand waiting there i I 
 want you. 
 
 CHAPTER CXL. 
 
 1HE CONTENTS OF THE MYSTERIOUS BOX PROVE TO BE 
 VEKY DIFFERENT TO WHAT JONATHAN WILD EXPECTED. 
 
 With a smile on his lips and a tremble in his heart, 
 Levee sidled into Wild's office. 
 
 Since the occasion of which we spoke, he bad been 
 careful to keep as much as possible out of the way of the 
 thief-taker, in the hopes that what he had said would be 
 forgotten. 
 
 And now, when be entered, he half hoped that so de- 
 fcirable a thing had taken place. 
 
 It was the first time for some days that he had been 
 face to face with his master. 
 
 He looked up, therefore, in a wistful sort of a manner, 
 1o see what kind of expression it wore. 
 
 But he could gather nothing from the scrutiny. 
 
 Jonathan looked much the same as usual. 
 
 That is to say — hidoous in the extreme. 
 
 Twitching his wig in that peculiar way for which he 
 i was so remarkable, he said — 
 
 " Levee ! " 
 
 " Yes, if you please, Mr. Wild. What did you please 
 to want ?" 
 
 Jonathan grinned. 
 
 " Take that box," he said, abruptly. 
 
 He pointed to it as be spoke. 
 
 Thinking of nothing but how he had best conciliate 
 1 is master, Levee approached the desk, and stretching 
 1 is arm over the railing, took the box as be had been 
 lid. 
 
 " I am busy, Levee ! " cried Wild, " and am going 
 < nt." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I shan't be more than half-an-hour, and while I am 
 trone, I — I " 
 
 "What, Mr. Wild?" 
 
 " I want you to open that box." * 
 
 " Certainly, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You 6ee the lid is fastened down, and I fancy yon will 
 have some trouble in raising it." 
 
 " I'll do it, Mr. Wild," replied Levee, elated at the 
 good feeling Jonathan displayed towards him, and con- 
 gratulating himself that the past bad been forgotten. 
 
 " You had better do it in here, Levee, and take care of 
 
 the contents. Don't let any one know what yon ore aboui . 
 I shall be back in half-an-hour." 
 
 Jonathan Wild put on his liat. 
 
 He got down off his stool. 
 
 His hideous physiognomy was distorted by a diabolical 
 grin. 
 
 " Take care of the box, Levee, till I come back. I am 
 only iust going out into Giltspur-street. Good day, Levee 
 Good day ! " 
 
 Jonathan Wild walked out. 
 
 He closed the door behind him. 
 
 For a moment, Levee stood quite still, lookiDg at the 
 wood-work which hid his master from his sight. 
 
 He rubbed his head with a puzzled air. 
 
 In his anxiety to disarm suspicion, Wild had overshot 
 th« mark. 
 
 Levee suspected something more was in what had just 
 taken place than he had seen. 
 
 " I'm blest if I can make this out," he ejaculated, 
 rubbing his bead more furiously than ever, as if by so 
 doing he could assist his thoughts. 
 
 He still held the box in his hand. 
 
 Hm glanced down at it. 
 
 Then, for the first time, he noticed the writing on the 
 lid. 
 
 Reading was an accomplishment which he possessed in 
 only a very partial degree, and he was a long time spelling 
 the words out. 
 
 At last he managed the first line. 
 
 " Take— this — box— immediately — to — "— 
 
 The second and two following ones did not give him 
 much trouble. 
 
 "Mr. Jonathan Wild, 
 
 Newgate-street, 
 
 London." 
 
 Then he spelt out the last, and arrived at the true sense 
 of the whole. 
 
 " And he will reward you for your trouble." 
 
 Now this by no mean3 served to decrease Mr. Levee's 
 perplexity. 
 
 li Jeed, it bad a contrary effect. 
 
 He looked at the box with an air of the greatest possible 
 mistrust. 
 
 " Johnny's playing some deep game," he said, at length. 
 " I am sure of it, but what it is I cannot make out. 
 Curse the box ! What shall I do with it ? I wonder now 
 what's inside, and why he didn't open it himself.' 
 
 He shook it up and di\vn as he spoke, but no sound 
 was produced that enabled him to form a notion of the 
 nature of the conteuts. 
 
 "There's something in it, I can tell by the weight j 
 but it don't shake about at all. Curse the box, I say. If 
 I only knew what old Jonathan was at, I shouldn't care. 
 What made him run out and leave me like this? I don't 
 feel at all comfortable, that I don't. However, here goes. 
 I'll have the lid off, and risk it, for if Jonathan was to 
 come back before I had opened it, the house wouldn't 
 hold him." 
 
 _ With these words on bis lips, Levee put the box under 
 his arm, and commenced searching his pockets. 
 
 In a minute or so, from among a multitude of other 
 things.he produced a peculiar house-breaking implement, 
 then very much in use, which was shaped like a long 
 slender chisel. 
 
 This he applied to the junction of the lid with the box 
 itself, and the crackling sound which immediately ensued, 
 testified to the efficacy of the instrument. 
 
 Little by little, he forced away the lid, but the wood of 
 which it was composed waa hard, and it had been very 
 securely fastened down. 
 
 But it yielded before the pressure he applied to it. 
 
 As soon as ever he was able, Levee, whose curiosity waa 
 excited to the utmost pitch, endeavoured to obtain a 
 glimpse of the contents. 
 
 It was something white, almost like flour. 
 
 The box seemed quite filled with it, and it was pressed 
 in hard. 
 
 More puzzled than before, Levee ripped off the re- 
 mainder of the lid. 
 
 The box was harmless enough, that was quite clea' 
 and, after all, it looked as though Jonathan's apprehen- 
 sions were quite unfounded.
 
 204 
 
 ..UESKDJ: A ROMANCE. 
 
 T,he contems.presented a clear unbroken surface of some 
 white granular material. 
 
 Levee looked at it for some time in silence, but the pro- 
 ceeding did not tend to enlighten bim in the least. '• 
 
 The manner, however, in which he gazed at it waa 
 really most amusing to see. 
 
 "I sippose itVall right," be said; " What a fool 1 
 must be to go frigbtening myself about nothing. Johnny's 
 all right. I suppose he didn't want tbe trouble of open- 
 ing the blessed thing hisself. I should like to know 
 wbat it is that is in *t. However, that's no concern oti 
 mine." 
 
 Little aid Levee think that Wild was fully under the 
 impression that be had laid a snare for his destruction. 
 
 When the thief-taker left his house he had carried 
 out the intention which he had expressed of goiug to 
 Giltspur-street. 
 
 Crossing over the way, he turned round the comer, and 
 made his way to the eating-house which we have before 
 had occasion to mention, and where Jonathan usually took 
 his meals. 
 
 A grin of hideour satisfaction expanded his features as 
 he gloated over tho fate to which be had doomed his 
 janizary, for somehow or another Wild felt as certain that 
 that box was intended to be his destruction as he was of 
 bis own existence. 
 
 With great gusto he despatched a hearty meal, washed 
 down by plentiful libations of brandy, for of late he had 
 taken to drink a still greater quantity of this fiery stimu- 
 lant. 
 
 Then his impatience rose to such a height, that he 
 found himself unable to any longer stay away from his 
 house and the sight which he fully expected to see there. 
 
 Rising, then, from his seat, he retraced his steps. 
 
 On reaching the door of his bouse, he drew forth his 
 master key, and inserting it in the lock shot back the bolt 
 and entered. 
 
 He fully expected to witness some scene of tumult, but 
 the quiet appearance of the hall gave no token of any- 
 thing of the kind. 
 
 All was still — unusually still — he thought. 
 
 He did not pause for more than a moment, though. 
 
 Striding across the ball, he in half-a-dozen steps reached 
 the office door. 
 
 He listened here, but no sound whatever came from the 
 interior. 
 
 With the feeling in bis mind that he had allowed his 
 fenrs to get the better of him increasing every moment, 
 and tbe conviction that he had made some egregious blun- 
 der, he opened the door. 
 
 As he had more than half expected, the chamber was 
 quite vacant; for when Levee had opened the box in the 
 manner we have described, and spent some time in fruit- 
 less conjecture, he had placed it upon Jonathan's desk, 
 and betaken himself to his own quarters, there to medi- 
 tate upon the mysterious conduct of his master, and en- 
 deavour to arrive at some sort of a conclusion respecting it. 
 
 Jonathan felt that he had acted in a very ridiculous 
 manner. 
 
 No harm had resulted from the opening of the box. 
 
 Perhaps it contained something of great and secret im- 
 portance. 
 
 If it did, he had, by his own groundless fears, placed 
 that knowledge in tbe possession of another. 
 
 In no enviable frame of mind, he entered his office 
 and closed the door. 
 
 The key was in the lock on the inner side, so he fas- 
 tened himself in, determining not to be disturbed. 
 
 Then going up to this desk, he saw the box lying upon 
 it, and presenting the appearance we have described. 
 
 His surprise may be imagined, and his astonishment 
 also. 
 
 Clearly, however, the contents had not been tampered 
 with. 
 
 Ha approached, and not without some misgiving, took 
 up 6ome of the whitish powder between his finger and 
 thumb. 
 
 " What is it ? " he asked, snappishly. " It looks like 
 chalk pounded up. That's what it is, too, I'll be bound." 
 
 He poked about with his finger in the box, and a 
 closer examination showed him that he was quite right 
 in his supposition as to its character. 
 
 _ But what on ; earth could any one mean by sending 
 *kn a box of- chalk, and taking such pains as they mani- 
 
 festly did to pack it, for had not Mr. Glucks stated that 
 it was washed ashore by the tide, and yet the powder 
 was perfectly dry, and free even from the least trace of 
 
 dampness. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS BOTH STARTLED AND GRATIFIED BT 
 THE INTELLIGENCE WHICH THE MYSTERIOU8 BOX CON- 
 VEYS TO HIM. 
 
 Assuredly has Jonathan Wild not yet fathomed the mys- 
 tery of this singular box, and such was his own im- 
 pression. 
 
 But, in spite of himself, hs could not banish the notion 
 from his mind that danger lurked in it in some fashion or 
 other. 
 
 Going through the little dnor in the wooden railings, 
 by which his office was divided into two portions, he once 
 more seated himself on the stool. 
 
 The box was then within reach of his hand. 
 
 Determining to shrink no longer from ascertaining what 
 the inside contained, he suddenly, yet gingerly, took hold 
 of it, and tilted it over on to its side. 
 
 Of course, when this was done, the powder ran out. 
 
 An exclamation came from Jonathan's lips. 
 
 Just peeping through the white chalky mass was a 
 fragment of paper. 
 
 " A communication," he cried. " What a strange cir- 
 cumstance ! What can it be, I wonder ? " 
 
 He turned the box upside down as he spoke. 
 
 The powdered chalk slid down the slant of his desk. 
 
 Then there remained fully revealed to him a piece of 
 writing paper, folded into the shape and semblance of a 
 letter. 
 
 In the curiosity he felt to kuow what this letter con- 
 tained, he forgot all his recent alarm, and took hold 
 of it. 
 
 The superscription was as follows :— 
 
 Private. 
 
 MR. JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 The handwriting was of a veiy ordinary kind, and 
 looked as though the person who had written it was used 
 to having something larger in his fingers than a pen. 
 
 Jonathan slowly unfolded this epistle. 
 
 It was not secured in any way; probably the writer 
 considered that the manner in which he had placed it in 
 the box made it unnecessary. 
 
 When the sheet was fully outspread before him, and the 
 first words met his eye, one of those awful roars, to which 
 the thief-taker at times gave utterance, burst from his 
 lips. 
 
 Then he continued reading with avidity. 
 
 We will place the document before the reader in ita 
 precise words. 
 
 It commenced thus : — 
 
 " Mr. Wild,— 
 
 " Respected Sir, — This comes from George Hawkins, 
 and you will, I take it, be much surprised at receiving a 
 letter from me in this fashion, but I couldn't see no other 
 way as I could send it to you. 
 
 " Of course you will remember the suspicions which I 
 communicated to you about Colonel Thome, who you 
 fancied must be a highwayman on his own account, namely, 
 that he and Captain Howlet, the pirate, was one and the 
 same person, which suspicion is no longer — such being the 
 truth. 
 
 " When we parted, which was, as you know, several 
 mouths ago, I said I would try to find out, by joining the 
 pirates. Well, after a great deal of trouble, I got to bo 
 admitted a member of the band, the particulars of which, 
 being too long, and not having no convenience for writing, 
 I can't set down. 
 
 " I want to tell you what I know in a few words, though 
 whether I shall be able to send you?the letter is more 
 than I can tell, having already written two, but have not 
 been able to get out of the cave where the pirates all live, 
 which is in the rock as \ Colonel Thome's house, called 
 " The Larches," is built on. k 
 
 " I have been a long while finding out which would be 
 the best way for you to make a successful attack upon 
 them, and at last I have found out, and you may rely
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 205 
 
 upon the information which I send you as being quite 
 correct. 
 
 " The particular cliff which the cave is in you will be 
 able to find easy enough, it being, as I said before, the 
 one as the house is built on. Well, in the side of the cliff 
 there is a kind of crack, for I can call it nothing el»^, 
 which is the entrance. 
 
 " But you will have to come in a boat, and bring a 
 ladder with you, for the way into the passage as leads to 
 the cavern is in the top part of this crack in the cliff. 
 
 "You won't have much trouble in getting in if you 
 once find the place, for there is only a wooden door to stop 
 you, which you could break down at a blow. 
 
 " The pirates don't suspect at all what I am, and I have 
 been very careful in my behaviour. Tbey think them- 
 selves quite secure, and in no danger of detection. 
 
 "The sooner you come, Mr. Wild, and make the attack, 
 ihe better, for, just at present, all the men are in the cave, 
 and I think some little time will elapse before they set 
 out upon another cruise. I ought not to forget to tell 
 you that they number twenty altogether, and that tbey all 
 wear masks made like an owl's head when they attack 
 any vessel, and they certainly do look very awful when 
 they have got them on — enough to terrify any one who is 
 not up to their devilment. 
 
 " Howsoever, Mr. Wild, I shall have to finish this here 
 letter, although I have got a great deal more to say ; but 
 I am afraid some of the men should catch me, and 
 wonder what I am at. I should never have been able to 
 write to you at all if I hadn't smuggled the things in 
 with me to do it with, though that's neither here nor 
 there. 
 
 " I needn't tell you what renown you will gain, Mr. 
 Wild, if you succeed in bringing this gang to justice, for 
 they are that daring and ferocious, that, to my certain 
 knowledge, people are afraid to go to sea for fear they 
 should fall into their hands. 
 
 " I trust that what I have said on the outside of the 
 box will make any one who finds it forward it to you, for 
 I shall have to watch my opportunity, and throw it into 
 the water when the tide is running in. I shall have 
 to run the risk whether it comes to you or not, but if I 
 don't hear from you in, ten days, 1 6hall send again, and 
 trust to being more lucky. 
 " Mr. Wild, 
 
 "1 am your very humble servant, 
 
 " George Hawkins." 
 
 The reader will, of course, from what has gone before, 
 be able to come to a tolerably correct conclusion respect- 
 ing this letter. 
 
 It must be understood that Jonathan Wild made a bar- 
 gain with all thieves, that if they would give him a share 
 of their plunder, he would take care to keep them clear of 
 the law. 
 
 But any one who would not submit to his exactions, or 
 any one whom he found had cheated him, or made the 
 attempt to do so, were marked out for immediate ven- 
 geance ; and that vengeance consisted always in effecting 
 the capture of the offending person, and, if they still re- 
 fused to come to terms, lodging them in Newgate, pre- 
 ferring and substantiating a mock charge against them, 
 and Laving them found guilty, and executed at Tyburn. 
 
 Rarely, indeed, did he fail in accomplishing this ; and 
 at last it grew to be quite a settled thing, if Jonathan 
 Wild appeared against a person, that he was condemned 
 to death. 
 
 Jonathan, to see that no one escaped his clutches, always 
 had spies about ; and from some of these he had heard the 
 rumours and speculations which were life concerning 
 Colonel Thome, who appeared in London eo erratically, 
 and who, when there, spent money in so lavish a manner. 
 
 In a moment, when he was made aware of these facts, 
 Jonathan Wild jumped to the conclusion that this Colonel 
 Thorne was a highwayman, and that the money he spent 
 so freely was acquired by levying contributions upon the 
 purses of others. 
 
 But he could bring nothing definite against him. Spies 
 he sent out after bim in abundance, but all the intelligence 
 they could bring him was, that when he left London it 
 was to visit an estate which he had upon the sea-shore, 
 and which was appellatively designated " The Larcbes." 
 
 He learned, moreover, that, during his stay at this 
 place, he led almost the life of a recluse, being very 
 
 rarely seen abroad, and permitting no visitors, except at 
 long intervals, to the mansion. 
 
 fie sought in vain for the knowledge he required to con- 
 vert bis suspicions into certainties. 
 
 One of the men who bad been appointed more espe- 
 cially to the business of watching Colonel Thorne — by 
 name George Hawkins — had, while at Dover, of course 
 heard the wonderful stories related of Captain Howlet 
 and his ferocious band. 
 
 From time to time he had picked up little scraps of 
 information, and the result of them was the suspicion that 
 Colonel Thorne was not a highwayman, but a pirate. 
 
 This, and the reasons he had for forming the opinion, 
 he had communicated to Jonathan Wild, and it had been 
 agreed upon between them that Hawkins should endeavour 
 to join the pirate band. 
 
 This bad occurred about a month previous to the com- 
 mencement of this history, and by Wild (owing to the 
 number of things he had upon his mind) had been almost 
 if Pot entirely forgotten, until this letter came into his 
 hands in the extraordinary manner we have described. 
 
 In order to make all clear, however, we must state that 
 the letter which Hawkins had so incautiously dropped, 
 and which had led, not only to the discovery of his 
 treachery, but to his summary execution, was one which 
 he had written some time back, but which he bad been 
 unable to send off. 
 
 It will be perceived by comparing the two letters (the 
 former of which is given in the one hundred and twenty- 
 second chapter), that though they are essentially the same, 
 yet the one which came into Jonathan's hands contains 
 some additional and later information which he did not 
 seem to be in possession of when the first was written. 
 
 The roar to which Jonathan Wild gave vent when he 
 read this letter may now be fully accounted for. 
 
 No pen or language could, however, depict the eagerness 
 with which he perused every word of it, and when he had 
 finished it once, he read it a second time. 
 
 This enabled him to perfectly understand it, which could 
 hardly be said to be the case at first, for Mr. Hawkins' 
 style of composition was rather involved. 
 
 The fame of Captain Howlet bad spread itself all over 
 the kingdom, to the terror of those engaged in maritime 
 pursuits, but, despite of all the exertions made by the 
 naval authorities, all attempts to capture him and his 
 band, and bring them to justice, had failed. 
 
 Now Jonathan Wild felt that he had him iu his power, 
 and that he could crush him when he chose. 
 
 CHAPTER CXL1I. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD PATS A VISIT TO THE SECRETARY OF 
 STATE, AND THEN SETS OUT TO MAKE AN ATTACK UPON 
 CAPTAIN HOWLET. 
 
 Without the slightest fear of contradiction, it may safely 
 be asserted that no one was ever so impressed with the 
 importance of promptitude of action as Jonathan Wild 
 was. 
 
 No one had heard more about Captain Howlet and the 
 exertions which bad been made to capture Lim than he. 
 
 The reward, too, which bad been offered for his appre- 
 hension was something over £500, but it was not that so 
 much that tempted Wild aa the personal feeling he had 
 imbibed against the colonel, and the reputation as an 
 indefatigable officer he should acquire by capturing him 
 and his much -dreaded band. 
 
 It was only by occasionally having recourse to such 
 artifices as this, that he succeeded in blinding the eyes of 
 the public and the authorities to his real proceedings. 
 
 Knowing their value, therefore, he was always on the 
 look out for the securement of such offenders as were of 
 least value to him, and whose apprehension would redound 
 most to his credit. 
 
 On this occasion he had a double stimulus for instanta- 
 neous exertion. 
 
 Hawkins had stated that all the crew were then in the 
 cavern, but that he knew not when they would set out on 
 a cruise. 
 
 The advantage of capturing them on land, and much in 
 the manner of mice in a trap, was obvious, and although 
 Jonathan had much important business on band, he 
 resolved to cast it all aside, and devote himself to tin* 
 [ Jack Sheppard, he considered, he could make bum s* at 
 I any time he wished.
 
 f — 
 
 206 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAS CE. 
 
 Blueskin the eame. 
 
 The one about whom he was most anxious was Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 He could not imagine where she had betaken hiwa«lf. «* 
 into whose hands she had fallen. 
 
 Little did ho think they were those of Colonel Thornc. 
 
 Little did he think that by apparently neglecting his 
 own interests, he should be forwarding them to the 
 Utmost. 
 
 But so it is with vain predestinated human beings, 
 unable to see that which is of most importance to them, 
 and frequently groping darkly in the opposite direction to 
 that which they should have taken. 
 
 The grand aim of Jonathan's life now was, by one bold 
 stroke, to secure at the same time both wealth and revenge, 
 the two things human beings most toil after, and most of 
 whom are satisfied with the gratification of one. 
 
 Wild was growing tired of the life he was, and had 
 been for so many 3 r ears, leadiLg . 
 
 Not only that, but so far he had trod upon dangeruas 
 ground with perfect safety. 
 
 How much longer he would continue to do so was more 
 than he or any one else could precisely calculate. 
 
 Up to the present time he had made himself a kind of 
 reputation, and his dark deeds were only known to few. 
 
 He was exceedingly desirous not to outlive this reputa- 
 tion, dubious as it may be deemed. 
 
 Lord Donmull — who, at his suggestion, had sought 
 oblivion of remorse in change of scene — he considered to 
 be utterly in bis power. 
 
 He held the broad acres and treasures of the Donmulls, 
 of which he had so unjustly taken possession, at his good 
 will only. 
 
 Whenever it should suit him, nothing would be easier 
 than to oust him from them. 
 
 But he did not want to do this until he could step into 
 them himself. 
 
 Yes, this was the bold and audacious scheme which the 
 notorious thief-taker had conceived, and resolved to carry 
 out. 
 
 The means he thought were easy. 
 
 Many would have deemed them difficult. 
 
 More considered them insuperable. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was unquestionably the rightful heir. 
 
 There would be little or no difficulty in proving her 
 identity. 
 
 He believed that he could even compel Lord Donmull 
 to acknowledge her. 
 
 Should he do so, that would be sufficient. 
 
 What further proof could be demanded or required P 
 
 Surely none. 
 
 All, therefore, that remained for him to do was to get 
 Edgworth Bess into his sole possession. 
 * Then, either by threats or persuasions, cause her to 
 become his wife. 
 
 The latter would be the most preferable and comfortable 
 course, could it be accomplished. 
 
 But there was the difficulty. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was determined. 
 
 She was not ol e to be easily intimidated into any course, 
 if she saw she was going against her own interests and 
 inclination. 
 
 A woman, however, Jonathan considered he was more 
 thau a match for. 
 
 All he wanted was to obtain a husband's right over her. 
 
 Then she could go where and do what she pleased. 
 
 She was not in her person the object which he sought. 
 
 It was her inheritance and riches. 
 
 A consideration of these briefly-enumerated circum- 
 stances will at once have the effect of convincing the 
 reader that Jonathan's primary object must be to get 
 possession of the poor girl. 
 
 Now, with an exercise of that cunning for which he was 
 80 remarkable, he had calculated that the quickest manner 
 in which he could find and regain possession of Edgworth 
 Bess would be to release Jack Sheppard from custody, 
 and send some one to follow him, and bring back v»<sd 
 where he had met the girl. 
 
 We have seen how that little enterprise, canning *is it 
 wab, essentially failed lor two reasons. 
 
 One was that Wilkinson did his duty of spy so badly 
 mat Jack detected him. 
 
 Tb« other was that Jack had no idea where to find 
 himself. 
 
 Since that time, then, Jonathan, although occupied 
 with so many things that demanded immediate atteution, 
 had never lost sight, mentally, of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Nor was it likely he should do so, when we consider 
 the boldness of the step he meditated. 
 
 He had sent out men in every direction — men upon 
 whom he could rely — to look out for her, but as yet 
 none of them had gathered any intelligence. 
 
 But while this was going on, he must not suffer his 
 own interests and fame to be neglected. 
 
 As iu some great display of fireworks, the grandest' 
 efiort of pyrotechnic skill is reserved to the last, so did 
 Jonathan wish to accomplish some mighty deed before 
 he carried out his intention of retiring from public life. 
 
 The apprehension and annihilation of Captain Howlet 
 and his band, he thought, would be the most striking act 
 he could perform, and he determined it should be the 
 closing one of his life. 
 
 Crumpling up the unfortunate letter he had received 
 in so extraordinary a manner, Jonathan put on his hat 
 and left the office. 
 
 He stopped in the hall. 
 
 "Quilt!" he yelled, "Quilt!" for, since the defection 
 of Blueskin, that worthy bad been inducted into tha 
 duties of lieutenant in the thief-taker's household and 
 affairs. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Here I am, sir." 
 
 " Send some one for a hackney-coach." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Shall I open the door ? An empty one 
 will be 6ure to pass the door in a moment." 
 
 " No, send some one." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 " And, Quilt." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I am going out upon a long expedition, and I want to 
 leave you in charge of the house." 
 
 " Yes, sir. Oh ! yes, sir." 
 
 "Shut up! I shall want all the men I have got, and 
 about a dozen extra hands; there will be a good reward 
 to share amongst them." 
 
 " When must they be ready, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 u In two hours at the latest. I shall be back by then, 
 and as soon as I return they must start." 
 
 " I'll see to all being ready by that time, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Get on, then, and call a hackney-coach. Stop, all 
 the men must be mounted on good strong horses." 
 
 " I know, sir." 
 
 " Fetch the conch, then." 
 
 Having given these orders to his subordinate, Jonathan 
 made his wny to the upper portion of his mansion, where 
 he bistowed some little pains and attention upon his 
 toilette. 
 
 By the time he had finished, the hackney-coach was 
 at the door. 
 
 " Where to, Mr. Wild ? " asked the driver, as soon as 
 Jonathan made his appearance. " Where to, 6ir ?" 
 
 " Secretary of State's ! " growled the thief-taker. 
 
 As be spoke the words, he entered the cumbrous, crazy 
 vehicle, the door of which was officiously held open by 
 Quilt, and as officiously closed after him when he had 
 taken his seat. 
 
 The driver flogged his tottering cattle, and at a shuf- 
 fling sort of trot they took their way down Newgate- 
 street into the Old Bailey. 
 
 The interval occupied by the journey Wild employed in 
 maturing his plans. 
 
 What they were will be best seen when he puts them 
 into execution. 
 
 The office of the Secretary of State was at last reached, 
 and Jonathan alighted. 
 
 The mere mention of his name was sufficient to pro- 
 cure him an interview with that high official per- 
 souage. 
 
 To him Wild briefly recounted the intelligence which 
 had come into his possession., and then asked for assist- 
 ance. 
 
 " So complete is my information," said Wild, "that I 
 hold him powerless within my grasp, and I 6hall capture 
 him and the whole of his atrocious band without diffi- 
 culty." 
 
 "You are a wonderful man, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I try to do my duty as an officer and a t;uthful sub- 
 ject," replied the thief-taker, hypocritically, " and it de-
 
 WiTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 A 
 
 lights me to find that my efforts are so highly appreciated 
 by so discriminating a person as yourself." 
 
 Jonathan bowed deeply as he uttered these ambiguow? 
 compliments. 
 
 " I find," said tho Secretary, after referriug to metuo- 
 randa before bim, that tbe rewards offered for febe capture 
 or destruction of this formidable pirate and bis band ar* 
 very considerable. In addition to tbe five hundred pounds 
 offered by the government, I find there are rewards offered 
 by private persons, the aggregate amount of which is 
 three hundred pounds ; so if you succeed, it will be a good 
 thing for you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 ■ It is not so much the reward," said Wild, as he pre- 
 pared to take his departure, " for that will be equally 
 divided among tbe men ; but I desire to be of benefit to 
 the community at large. Good day, my lord; I have 
 your full permission to take whatever steps I may consider 
 best suited to accomplish the end in view." 
 
 " Yon have, Mr. Wild," replied the Secretary. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD REACHES THE ENTRANCE TO THE 
 PIRATES' CAVERN IN THE CLIFP. 
 
 Upon leaving the Secretary of State, Jonathan Wild made 
 the best of bis way to Newgate-street. 
 
 When he arrived, although the time he had been absent 
 was considerably under two hours, he found the men wait- 
 ing for him. 
 
 This, in combination with his success with the Secre- 
 tary, put bim into good humour. 
 
 There were thirty men at least, all powerful, well- 
 armed fellows, and mounted upou strong, serviceable 
 steeds, which, while they could endure a vast amount of 
 fatigue, yet would got over the ground at a very creditable 
 rate. 
 
 One was waiting for Jonathan himself. 
 
 But before be mounted, he ran into his house, and 
 bnckled to his side a huge hanger, the largest size, indepd, 
 ever manufactured, and stuffed bis pockets with pistols. 
 
 Nor did he omit to take with bim a plentiful supply of 
 ammunition. 
 
 His hat, too, he threw off, and substituted another, 
 which was curiously and cleverly supported with bands of 
 iron, which combined all the advantages a helmet could 
 have, without the inconvenience of the great weight. 
 
 As he sallied forth from his house, thus fully armed and 
 accoutred, he looked a very formidable individual indeed. 
 
 Vaulting into the saddle with greater agility that any 
 one, seeing his bulky and unwieldy form, could have 
 imagined, he gave the orders lor his men to follow. 
 
 With something like a feeling of exultation at his heart, 
 and pride to see himself at the head of so large and so 
 well-armed a troop, Jonathan trotted off. 
 
 It was the dinger hour, and the streets were thronged 
 with foot passengers, who turned to gaze after the thief- 
 taker and his troop with something akin to admiration. 
 
 But curiosity was the most predominant feeling, for at 
 that time Jonathan Wild's face was as well known as tbe 
 dome of St. Paul's is to-day. 
 
 They guessed in a moment that it was an enterprise of 
 more than an every day character which took him abroad 
 with so strong a body guard, and many ran along upon 
 the footpaths to seo which way he was going. 
 
 But none exactly suspected his destination, or else the 
 popular excitement would have been immense. 
 
 Soon, then, he distanced all of these, and gained the 
 broad and well-kept Dover-road, then a much busier 
 thoroughfare than it is at the present time, when the 
 railway conveys persons to the town, through which it 
 passes, and likewise to the continent. 
 
 But when Jonathan lived, the most rapid mode of transit 
 was by means of a post-chaise ; and in general the 
 journey was performed by stage-coaches. 
 
 So, as he went, he attracted a good dsal of attention. 
 
 To relate minutely their progress from Loudon to Dover 
 would be uninteresting, since nothing of an unusual cha- 
 racter occurred to diversify it. 
 
 Midnight had passed when they arrived. 
 
 They had made very few halts on the way, and the men 
 were horribly fatigued. 
 
 As for the horses, they were completely knocked upi 
 and had Dover been a couple of miles further, they would 
 never have reached it. 
 
 Certaiuly Jonathan himself could not help feeling tired, 
 as the rest did ; but the hard riding did not take so much 
 effect upon his iron frame as it did upon some of his fol- 
 lowers. 
 
 Be allowed them bnt a short interval for rest and re- 
 freshment. 
 
 In the mean time he made his way to the sea-shore, and 
 hired two large eight-oared boats, which would conve- 
 niently contain himself and bis men. 
 
 From this it will be seen that he contemplated making 
 his attack upon the pirates that very nipht — or rather 
 morning. 
 
 And he just saved himself by so doing. 
 
 When he had completed this business of hiring the 
 boats, and given particular instructions for their being in 
 readiness at tbe time he required, he made his way back 
 to the inn where he bad lodged bis men. 
 
 This was tbe only rest they got. 
 
 He instructed them all to look to their weapons, and 
 set them the example of so doing 
 
 This done, he marshalled them down to the sea-beach 
 at once. 
 
 The boats were there in readiness. 
 
 It was not until this moment that Wild remembered 
 what Iiawkins had said about the necessity of bringing a 
 ladder with him. 
 
 But it was not too late to repair the omission, so he 
 immediately sent off four of his men to borrow two in the 
 king's name. 
 
 While they were gone, he occupied the time by placiug 
 the other men in the boats, and giving them more detailed 
 instructions as to what they were severally to do when 
 they reached their destination. 
 
 He had not to wait long after he had finished bis in- 
 structions for the return of the men he had sent for the 
 ladders. 
 
 They bad succeeded in obtaining two, which were long 
 and strong, and admirably adapted for the purpose for 
 which they were intended. 
 
 One was placed in each boat, and then the order was 
 given to push off. 
 
 This was done. 
 
 Jonathan, with a night-glass in his hand, stood at tho 
 prow of the foremost boat, directing them which coarse 
 they were to take. 
 
 The men in the boat, however, knew perfectly well 
 which was the cliff Jonathan meant when he told them it 
 was the one upon which the residence of Colonel Thome 
 was situated. 
 
 The distance they had to go was not very great, but 
 owing to the swell of the tide it took them rather a long 
 time to reach it. 
 
 They did not dare to hug the land too close, for fear 
 they should be dashed upon the rocks, to which tbey were 
 close. 
 
 " That is the cliff, sir," said the man in the boat, who 
 seemed to be in some kind of command over his com- 
 panions. 
 
 " Row towards it, then," cried Wild, as he again par- 
 ried the telescope to his eye, in the hope that he should be 
 able to distinguish the "crack" of which Hawkins had 
 spoken. 
 
 But they had gone too far out from the land for it to be 
 visible in tho darkness. 
 
 Their course, however, was now direct for the cliff. 
 
 With feverish impatience, which every moment deepened 
 in intensity, Wild looked out for the nssm - e. 
 
 He was, to a certain extent, in doubt whether the in- 
 formation which had been forwarded to bim was correct 
 
 But upon the reader's mind there can be no such 
 doubt. 
 
 Already they know how Hawkins, by a slight careless- 
 ness, badbeen discovered, and how promptly bis treachery 
 had been punished. 
 
 His life bad paid the penalty. 
 
 Of all this, it must not be forgotten, Jonathan was 
 perfect ignorance, as well as of the presence ot Edgv 
 Bess in the cavern, 
 
 i ii . — — ■■— — — &
 
 90S 
 
 BLTJESK.IN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 The latter is a little surprise in store for him. 
 
 And here let us take the occasion to remark that, let 
 Jonathan Wild's faults, and failings, and shortcomings 
 have been what they may, want of personal courage was 
 not one of them. 
 
 Indeed, it is questionable if there ever did exist a pbison 
 who cared so little for hard knocks as he did. 
 
 And there were fewer still who received more and sur- 
 vived. 
 
 In the present instance not one thought of the amount 
 of daDger he might personally incur ever occurred to 
 him. 
 
 Or, if so, he did not regard it, nor did it influence his 
 conduct in any way. 
 
 It is always pleasing to find, in the character of such 
 a bold, bad man as Jonathan Wild, one redeeming 
 
 And, indeed, it may safely be asserted, that since the 
 creation no person has ever existed, be he whom he may, 
 who has been wholly and utterly bad. 
 
 In every case it will be found that there is something as 
 a set off against the darker shades of character. 
 
 To resume. 
 
 As they approached the cliffs, we have said the anxiety 
 of Wild increased to a very great degree. 
 
 But it was some assurance to him when the boatman 
 stated that there were several clefts in the cliffs such as 
 he had described. 
 
 Jonathan trusted to his own acutenessto discover which 
 was the right one. 
 
 Very soon now, however, the eyes ol Jonathan Wild 
 were gratified by perceiving, in the dead white surface of 
 the cliff, three or four patches of black. 
 
 Which one he ehould select was rather difficult to de- 
 termine. 
 
 He had no time to lose. 
 
 He had recourse to the boatman. 
 
 " Which fissure," he said, " is the largest P" 
 
 " There's not much difference in any of them." 
 
 But Jonathan was not foiled yet. 
 
 " Do you know if there is one somewhere about just 
 under the house?" 
 
 " Well, yes, there is. You see those three yonder." 
 
 " Plainly." 
 
 " Then it's the middlemost." 
 
 " Steer for that, then. I shall soon discover whether it 
 is the one I require. If not, we must try the others till 
 we find it." 
 
 " Ay, ay, sir." 
 
 The direction of the boats was now slightly altered, 
 and not many moments afterwards the foremost one shot 
 into the little cavern, if such it could be called. 
 
 Several of Wild's own men had provided themselves 
 with dark lanterns. 
 
 By Jonathan's instructions they were now lighted. 
 
 Taking one in his own hand, he flashed it cautiously 
 about him. 
 
 So far as he could tell, the place exactly accorded with 
 the description he had received of it from the spy Haw- 
 kins. 
 
 But the top was too high for him to see whether the 
 door was there or not, for the tide was three parts out. 
 
 He had one of the ladders raised, however. 
 
 The bottom part of it stuck firmly in the sand. 
 
 Then taking a lantern in one hand, and carrying a pistol 
 in the other, he ascended it. 
 
 All the rest looked on is the deepest interest and 
 suspense. 
 
 When near the top, Jonathan saw the cunningly con- 
 trived door, of which Hawkins had spoken. 
 
 He signalled to his men to raise the other ladder and 
 follow him. 
 
 They instantly obeyed. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIV. 
 
 JOHN ROOTS RAISES AN ALARM, AND I£ S30* ON THE 
 
 STAIRCASE BY MATTHEW PLCOD- 
 
 VVif last left Jack Sheppard, and the two men who had 
 accepted him as a leader, in rather a ticklish situation. 
 
 It will be remembered that they had successfully made 
 • nuralarioua entry into the house of John Hoots, the 
 
 Instigated by his companions, and urged on by the 
 demon of revenge, Jack Sheppard had consented to rob 
 his master. 
 
 Frcm the circumstances already given, he knew he 
 would be able to secure the whole of his master's worldly 
 wealth. 
 
 By so doing he should ruin him. 
 
 Reduce him to beggary. 
 
 When that was the case, Jack feit that he could rest 
 satisfied, and cry quits with bim. 
 
 The stairs had been ascended. 
 
 The door leading into the carpenter's bed-room had 
 been reached. 
 
 Success had attended them in the carrying out of their 
 exploit so far. 
 
 Blewitt, in obedience to a motion of Jack Sheppard'i 
 hand, had taken from his pocket a bunch of skeleton 
 keys. 
 
 One of these he had carefully selected. 
 
 Then gently inserted it in the lock. 
 
 It was a moment of anxious suspense when he, with 
 equal gentleness, turned it round. 
 
 The lock, which was of the commonest description, 
 yielded. 
 
 But, despite all the care and all the dexterity he could 
 use, Blewitt could not prevent the slight noise which 
 the bolt made as it flew back when released from the 
 spring. 
 
 Snap ! 
 
 In the intense silence which prevailed, it sounded as 
 loud and as distinct as the report of a pistol. 
 
 But Blewitt had sufficient presence of mind to retain 
 his hold upou the key. 
 
 Previous experience had taught him the expediency of 
 this. 
 
 He knew that doors sometimes creaked open slightly, if 
 not held by the hand. 
 
 But this he effectually prevented. 
 
 For full five minutes neither moved in the least. 
 
 All listened with an eagerness which cannot be con- 
 ceived. 
 
 But no alarm seemed to have been raised. 
 
 Blewitt then ventured to open the door. 
 
 And in doing this he acted in a manner that would 
 hardly have been expected. 
 
 He threw it wide open at once, with the greatest swift- 
 ness, taking care that it did not strike against any article 
 of furniture. 
 
 The result of this was that the door was opened noise- 
 lessly. 
 
 Now, any one who likes to try the experiment can 
 do so. 
 
 If a door is pushed open slowly and gently, the hinges 
 will creak with a prolonged sound. 
 
 But if the door is thrown open in the manner we have 
 described, the hinges will move noiselessly. 
 
 With all these little facts, so necessary to be known 
 upon such enterprises as that which he had in hand, 
 Blewitt was well acquainted. 
 
 When the door was open, he paused and listened. 
 
 The deep and regular sound of a person or persons 
 sleeping came to his ears. 
 
 The carpenter, then, had not yet been disturbed. 
 
 He beckoned to his two companions. 
 
 Tbey advanced. 
 
 Noiselessly then all three crept into the bedroom. 
 
 But they did not venture to take the candle in with 
 them. 
 
 Its beams, unshaded as they were, would, they feared, 
 awaken the sleeper. 
 
 So they stuck it upon the railing of the balusters on 
 the landing. 
 
 Enough light from it streamed into the chamber to 
 enable them to see what they were about. 
 
 Jack now, from the superior knowledge of the place 
 which he possessed, took the lead. 
 
 The others followed, in readiness to render him any 
 assistance he required. 
 
 And now, evilly-disposed as Jack Sheppard hy nature 
 unquestionably was, yet he would not allow himself to bo 
 led into murdering the carpenter, though his companion*
 
 [JONATHAN WILD REACHES NEWGATE-STREET IN SAFETY WITH HIS PRISONER.] 
 
 would not for a moment have shrunk from the perpetra- 
 tion of such a crime. 
 
 All he intended or desired was to be revenged upon 
 him in such a way as should bring about his ruin. 
 
 With a warped judgment, he argued that his master 
 had ruined his life, and, therefore, it was no more than 
 fair that he should do the same thing for him. 
 
 As, however, with cautious and silent tread, he stole 
 across the room, something of a better feeling came over 
 his heart. 
 
 He felt that, could he have retreated, he would have 
 done so, leaving his purpose unachieved. 
 
 But that was not to be thought of. 
 
 The men he ha<l with him effectually put an end to the 
 idea. 
 
 That, during the brief interval it took him to cross the 
 room, Jack knew to the full, the meaning of repentant*?, 
 cannot be denied. 
 
 But he shook off the feeling. 
 
 Nerving himself to carry out the desperate enterprise 
 
 he had undertaken, and banishing from his mind all 
 promptings of good, he paused by the bedside of his 
 master. 
 
 It was a large old-fashioned bedstead, and entirely 
 surrounded by thick curtains, so that no glimpse of the 
 bed itself, or of its occupants could be obtained. 
 
 But the regular breathing of some person in deep 
 slumber could be distinctly heard. 
 
 Jack made a sign with bis hand to his two companions, 
 which they immediately understood. 
 
 They sank down upon their knees, and raised the 
 valance round the bed. 
 
 Jack had already informed them that the box contain- 
 ing the money was to be found there. 
 
 They crept under, thei'efore, in quest of it. 
 
 Nor were they disappointed in their searcn. 
 
 Soon they encountered something large and cold, which 
 a touch told them was what they ssught. 
 
 Gradually they applied a little pressure to it, forcing it f 
 along the floor. 
 
 :*». 27.
 
 31G 
 
 BLU£SKIN: A KOMAKCB. 
 
 The weight was enormous, and they moved it with 
 great difficulty. 
 
 They could not avoid, too, despite the great care they 
 took, an occasional creak, or grating Bound, as they 
 pushed it over the boards. 
 
 When this happened, they stopped and begat again 
 with greater caution than before. 
 
 A great deal of time was consumed thus, but it was 
 unavoidable. Haste would have produced noise — and 
 noise, detection. 
 
 At length, however, by pushing it inch by inch, they 
 got to the edge of the bed. 
 
 As is common in many sleeping apartments, thera was 
 a strip of carpet all round the bed, and when they suc- 
 ceeded in getting the box upon that they were more at 
 ease. 
 
 While this was taking place, Jack Sheppard stood at 
 the head of the bed. 
 
 In his hand was a pistol. 
 
 He held it in an attitude to do immediate execution, in 
 case any aiarm should be given. 
 
 But the old carpenter slept soundly. He was stout and 
 of a somnolent disposition. 
 
 They might almost have made thrice the noise they did 
 without fenring that it would disturb him. 
 
 When the box was fairly clear of the bed, it could be 
 seen that it was made of some dark-coloured wood, and 
 heavily banded with iron. 
 
 The days for such things are over now. They are only 
 to be seen at the old curiosity shops occasionally. As the 
 iron safe came into use, so did they grow obsolete. 
 
 The former now is universally used as the depository 
 of valuable property of all kinds, and to such a degree of 
 perfection has their manufacture been carried, that not 
 only is all attempt at opening one made impossible, but 
 also by their peculiar construction they are capable of 
 preserving documents uninjured, even though exposed to 
 the Gercest heat. 
 
 The box was not of any great dimensions, though it 
 was weighty. 
 
 It had every appearance of being secure. 
 
 To have tried to open it there w Mild, the housebreakers 
 thought, be incurring too much risk, so mustering all 
 their strength, Flood and Blewitt lifted it up by the ends, 
 and staggered out on to the landing with it. 
 
 They placed it down silently at the head of the stairs. 
 
 Jack now felt that he could leave his post. 
 
 Accordingly he followed his comrades from the room. 
 
 The door he closed after him, in order to prevent, as 
 much as possible, the transmission of any sound which 
 might be made by opening the box. 
 
 The candle now rendered them effectual assistance. 
 
 Blewitt stooped down, and made a thorough but rapid 
 examination ot the manner in which the box was fastened. 
 
 At the end of his scrutiny he gave a nod, which seemed 
 to imply that he should be able to manage it. 
 
 lie ngaiu had recourse to the bunch of skeleton keys, 
 which had already been of such assistance to him, in 
 opening the door of the bed room. 
 
 lu addition to the keys, there were upon the ring a 
 variety of small, bright, curiously-shaped implements. 
 
 They all differed materially from one another in some 
 way. 
 
 These were picklocks. 
 
 In the bands of a skilful man, and one accustomed to 
 their use, they were formidable instruments, and such as 
 a great deal might be accomplished with. 
 
 Carefully selcctiug one of the picklocks, Blewitt com- 
 menced an attack upon the lock of the box with it. 
 
 Using no force whatever, but just gently moving it 
 about, he, after a great deal of trouble, managed to get 
 the lock back. 
 
 But, upon trial, the lid was found to bo as secure as 
 ever. 
 
 It would not move in the least. 
 
 There were no other lucks visible either. 
 
 Jack could g;te no explanation. 
 
 Whut wiis the meaning of this for a momeut T !1 
 
 Then the the ugh t occurred to Blewitt that tho ioest 
 might have been <1 mble locked, and that ho had only shot 
 the bolt back half the distance. 
 
 CHAPTER GXLV. 
 
 Jt-K SHEPPARD AND HIS COMPANION* EMPTY THB 
 SrjiONQ BOX, BUT DO NOT 8'JCCEED IN GETTING OFF 
 WilH THEIR BOOTr. 
 
 To immediately set about ascertaining whether this was 
 the reason the lid of the chest could not be raised, was 
 Blewitt's first impulse. 
 
 He again introduced the pick into the lock, and was re- 
 warded by hearing a second snap, like the first, but rather 
 louder. 
 
 Impatiently, for he was alarmed at so much delay, Jack 
 took hold of the lid. 
 
 This time it came up readily enough. 
 
 All looked eagerly for the contents, but they were hid- 
 den from view by a covering of some kind of skin. 
 
 This, however, was quickly thrown off, and underneath 
 it appeared a variety of valuable articles. 
 
 But the chest, which was about half full, contained 
 chiefly a number of small bags, very carefully tied up. 
 
 That they contained coin was apparent at a glance. 
 
 The peculiar shape, and, in some places, the round edges 
 of the money projecting through the canvas, made it im- 
 possible for them to be mistaken. 
 
 " Now," whispered Jack, " nevermind anything but the 
 bags. All contain money — some gold, and some silver ! 
 FiU your pockets with them, and let us be off. We have 
 been here sadly too long already." 
 
 The two men made no reply to tlais speech, save at once 
 doing their leader's bidding. 
 
 The bags disappeared one after another with extraordi- 
 nary rapidity. 
 
 Jack himself took a share. 
 
 All three wore those coats which form so characteristic 
 a portion of the costume of the period. 
 
 They were made with large skirts and enormous 
 pockets, the capaciousness of which seemed to have uo 
 limit. 
 
 Now those in particular which Flond and Blewitt had 
 on were made with an especial view to transporting a mul- 
 titude of objects. 
 
 Between them, they were able to empty the box of 
 every bag which it contained. 
 
 All that was left were some antique pieces of silver of 
 no great intrinsic value, and which, in consequence, it was 
 not worth while to encumber themselves with. 
 
 Specie, too, could not be identitied, and these articles 
 would leave a trace which, followed up, might lead to 
 their detection. 
 
 " Now," 6aid Jack, in a low whisper, when tho last bag 
 of money had been removed, " let us be off; we have 
 been s:»fe so far, and do not let us go into any danger 
 needlessly." 
 
 "All right, Jack," said Flood; " but stop a moment." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 " Didn't you say the old man was your governor?" 
 
 " J will tell you that history another time." 
 
 " All right ; that is not what I uieaut." 
 
 " (io on, then-" 
 
 " Stop, now, and hear what I have to say. There's no 
 harm in that." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; only we are losing precious moments." 
 
 " Pho, pho ! that's all right enough." 
 
 " But what do you want ? " 
 
 " Didn't he treat you very badly ? " 
 
 "Who?" 
 
 " The old man." 
 
 "John Roots?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " He did ill-treat me ; he forced me away from this 
 house, where otherwise I should have been at this mo- 
 ment. But my father swung at Tyburn through Jonathan 
 Wild's devilry, and he always flung it in my face, until at 
 last 1 got almost mad." 
 
 Jack spoke rapidly. 
 
 lie spoke, too, excitedly, and, in the oblivion of the 
 moment, raised his voice louder than was prudent. 
 
 Llut the circumstance was unnoticed by him. 
 
 " 1 thought that was it," said i'loud. 
 
 " What do you mean?" 
 
 "Oh! nothing; only"— — 
 
 "Only what?' 
 
 " Why, if any one had served m* as John Roots bs» 
 served you "— —
 
 BMJESKIN; A ROMANCE. 
 
 211 
 
 " What P " 
 
 " I shouldn't have taken it so easy as, job have, that's 
 all." 
 
 "How have I taken it?" 
 
 M Why, easy." 
 
 " If I Jiiive, I have made up for it now. lie is a 
 beggar. I 6hall ruiu him — ruin him, even as be has ruined 
 me. ' 
 
 " That remains to be seen, Jack. We have got a good 
 swap, that's certain." 
 
 " We have, and, therefore, let us pet off with it in 
 safety." 
 
 " Wliere's the danger P If there had been any, we 
 should Lave found it before now." 
 
 " Do not be too confident, Flood. Follow me. You 
 are too much elated at our success, and you forget the 
 absolute necessity there is for caution." 
 
 "No, 1 don't ; but if you go away from here without 
 settling the old man, I shall consider the job as only half 
 done." 
 
 " Would you have me murder him ns he sleeps?" asked 
 Jack, in a tone of horror. "No! bad I may be, but 1 am 
 not bad enough for that." 
 
 " Well, as you like; but I tell you, if anybody served mo 
 SO, 1 should not sleep while he lived." 
 
 "No," said Jack. "Let us depart. I am satisfied 
 with what 1 have done, aud such being the case, surely 
 you ought to be." 
 
 "Oh! 1 am satisfied, Jack ; but don't you be chicken- 
 hearted. You are a brave, likely young fellow, aud 1 say, 
 death to the man that's against you ! " 
 
 " Euough, enough, Flood. Descend, descend.'* 
 
 But Matthew Flood stood obstinately at the top of the 
 staircase, and Jack was afraid to make any a* tempt to 
 pass him, lest a struggle should ensue, and as alarm be 
 raised. 
 
 " Look here, Jack. I say, death to the man that's 
 against you 1 " 
 
 "Yon are mad!" 
 
 " Not a bit of it." 
 
 ■ But you are." 
 
 M I say I ain't, and not only that, if yon don't like the 
 idea of stopping the old man's breath yourself, I'll do it 
 for you ! " 
 
 " No — no," said Jack, M I don't desire his death. I 
 tell you I am already satisfied. Descend, I say, and let 
 us make the best of Our way from the spot, tor 1 have 
 no desire to be recognised." 
 
 " Oh ! well — well ! Have your own way. But if you 
 go away and leave the job as it is, I shaut think half so 
 well of you as what I have done." 
 
 " Tnat 1 cannot help," said Jack, firmly, for his patience 
 was almost exhausted. " But I have never committed 
 murder yet, and 1 shall try to keep my hands free from the 
 crime! 
 
 "Pish!" 
 
 " Descend ! Descend, I say, and do not by your folly 
 imperil us any longer. I tell you I will not take John 
 Boots' life, nor will I suffer you to take it, until you have 
 taken mine first." 
 
 " Oh ! very well— very well ! If that's your game, I 
 give in at once. Come on ! " 
 
 So saying, Flood began to descend the stairs. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Blewitt, who had kept perfectly 
 silent during the rapid conversation which had taken 
 place, followed. 
 
 He had not taken the part of either, for he every 
 moment expected that an open quarrel would result. 
 
 lie knew, from former experience, the obstinate nature 
 of Flood's disposition. 
 
 He knew that when he once took an idea into his 
 head, there was the greatest conceivable difficulty in 
 turning him. 
 
 But on this occasion, though it was most reluctantly, he 
 had given way. 
 
 Bitterly indeed did he live to repent his fe*j. 
 
 The moments that they spent in this profitless dis- 
 course upon tbe landing, should have been used in getting 
 clear of the premises. 
 
 The conversation had been carried on rapidly, and it 
 had taken up but a very small quautity of time indeed ; 
 bnt then a moment is euough to decide the destinies of 
 nations. 
 
 More than once during the brief dispute, the voices of 
 
 both vdrtiwi had risen to a higher tone than was con« 
 sonaut with safety. 
 
 And once, when Jack spoke so excitedly, the familiar 
 sounds bad penetrated the chamber of John Hoots. 
 
 He woke. 
 
 He heard the murmuring of voices. 
 
 The idea of thieves at ouce eutered bis mind. 
 
 But he was, for a moment or two, too frightened to 
 move hand or foot. 
 
 Then he recovered himself. 
 
 He sprang out of lied. 
 
 The voices hud ceased. 
 
 Toe interior of the room, from so long having been an 
 inmate of it, was very familiar to him. and, therefore, be 
 was able, without trouble or delay, to make his way to 
 tlw door. 
 
 He tried it. 
 
 To his horror, it was unlocked ! 
 
 Dreading the worst, and driven almost mad by the idea 
 that bis bouse had been broken into, he, without a 
 thought of what danger he niicht be incurring, dung the 
 door open, and dashed out upou the landing. 
 
 The candle on the balusters was still burning. 
 
 It showed him his box — the precious chest in which 
 his whole worldly wealth was deposited— lying open at his 
 feet, and despoiled of its most valuable coutents. , 
 
 A shout— an irrepressible shout — came from his lips 
 when he saw it. 
 
 He fancied be heard a noise upon the stairs. 
 
 Still heedless of his dancer, and thinking only of the 
 frightful and irreparable loss he bad sustained, urged on 
 by a wild aud insane hope of getting some portion of it 
 back again, he began to descend. 
 
 When he reached the angle where the stairs formed 
 a kind of supplemental landing-place, he caught sight of 
 three figures. 
 
 The moment he did bo, he shouted at the lor of his 
 voice — 
 
 " Murder ! thieves ! Help, help ! Thieves ! murder ! 
 Police! Help! he" 
 
 Tbe word was arrested on his lips. 
 
 There was a bright flash and a report, succeeded by a 
 groan. 
 
 Flood had fired. 
 
 He hit his mark, too, for the carpenter fell headlong 
 down the remainder of the staircase. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVI. 
 
 GIVES AN ACCOUNT OP BLUESKIN'S PROCEEDINGS AFTER 
 HIS ESCAPE FBOM TUB MURDER DEN ON THE RIVER 
 SIDE. 
 
 That necessity, which the proverb says knows no law, 
 compels us most reluctantly to leave Jack Sheppard in 
 his present very perilous situation, while we relate some 
 other events which were occurring at the same time, and 
 with which the reader must be made acquainted without 
 delay. 
 
 When Blueskin had the good luck to escape with his 
 life from the horrible den he had so unwittingly entered, 
 he had turned his face towards the river, with the ex- 
 pressed determination of finding out Jack Sheppard. 
 
 He turned towards the river for that purpose. 
 
 But ere he had got very far, the deadly sensation of 
 weakness, which excitement had enabled him to overcome, 
 now forced itself upon him. 
 
 His brain nfeeled. 
 
 His feet gave wy beneath him, and he would have sank 
 to the ground had he not supported himself by clinging 
 against tbe angle of a building. 
 
 Here he steadied himself, and to some extent recovered 
 the use of his faculties. 
 
 The reader will remember that he had received a rather 
 ghastly sort of wound from Wild's pistol when he rose to 
 tbe surface of the Thames, near the buttress of Blackfriars- 
 bridge. 
 
 This had bled profusely, though, of course, the cold 
 water in which he had been so long immersed checked it 
 to a great extent. 
 
 Still, the quantity of blood he had lost was enough to 
 reduce any one to the utmost stage of exhaustion, without 
 taking into account the immense uertioa he had bee 1 
 compelled to make. 
 
 Indeed, when he sought shelter in the murder den, ij
 
 212 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROKaNCE. 
 
 will be recollected that he was just conscious he waB doing 
 something, and that was all. 
 
 The rest he had had, though brief, had in a considerable 
 degree recuperated him, and so, when the cowardly attempt 
 to murder him was made, he was endowed ww " return 
 of his former strength. 
 
 But it was evanescent, lasting only long enough for him 
 to secure his safety, and then departing, leaving him 
 weaker than before. 
 
 It was now getting into the busy part of the day, and 
 many who passed by — for the streets were thronging 
 with people — looked upon him with curiosity, but nothing 
 more. 
 
 It is ever so in London. Those who walk much about 
 its myriad streets must have noticed so obtrusive a fact, 
 and a hundred and fifty years ago, when Blueskin lived, 
 it was just the same. 
 
 When they saw the dirty and bedraggled condition he 
 was in, and saw his apparel stained in many places with 
 blood, those who had felt an inclination to help him turned 
 away, leaving him to his fate — to live or perish as he 
 chose. 
 
 In a little while, however, thanks to the vigorous con- 
 ititution he possessed, Blueskin got so far better as to be 
 able to stand without holding by the wall. 
 
 Then, in a devious, tottering fashion, he made his way 
 down the street. 
 
 What the name of it was he had no idea, but after pro- 
 ceeding a few steps, he found it led into a wider and busier 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 Sad indeed would have been his fate had he at that 
 moment encountered his arch enemy, Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The thief-taker would not have scrupled to take his 
 life, defenceless as he was, for he wished above all things 
 to be rid of him. 
 
 Blueskin staggered on. 
 
 The people gave way, right and left, before him, allow, 
 ing him a clear passage. 
 
 Suddenly there passed across Blueskin'e imperfect 
 vision the bottles of variegated hues which adorn the 
 windows of chemists' shops. 
 
 The thought struck him that he would enter here, and 
 get his hurts properly washed and dressed. 
 
 Money he had in his pockets in plenty, and he knew 
 well enough that the mere sight of it would procure him 
 every attention. 
 
 He entered the shop. 
 
 A boy of a very diminutive species, and with a look of 
 precocious intelligence upon his countenance which was 
 really painful to witness, stood behind the counter. 
 
 He looked rather alarmed when he saw Blueskin come 
 in, though he was accustomed to have visits from rather 
 rough-looking customers. 
 
 But Blueskin was in a terrible plight, and his appear- 
 auce was ghastly in the extreme. 
 
 In a spasmodic sort of way the boy managed to gasp 
 out — 
 
 "Shop!" 
 
 In reply to this call, there came into the shop, from a 
 very dirty parlour behind it, a stout, middle-aged man, 
 whose countenance wore a pleasing expression of kind- 
 ness. . 
 
 As well as he could, Blueskin, in reply to his inquiries, 
 made him aware of what he required. 
 
 He accompanied it with the promise of paying well for 
 what was done. 
 
 Accordingly, the chemist led Blueskin into the little 
 Aingy parlour which we have incidentally mentioned, and 
 there proceeded to make an examination of the nature of 
 his hurts. 
 
 But until ho called for a basin of iot water and a 
 sponge, and cleared the coagulated blood from the orifice 
 of the wound, he could not tell much aboutthem. 
 
 Then was revealed a long gash or furrow in his shoulder 
 which the bullet had made. 
 
 Fortunately, when it struck him it did not lodge any 
 where, but just encountering the shoulder-bone, glanced off 
 it, and ploughed up the flesh several inches in the direc- 
 tion of his neck. 
 
 This, while it looked a formidable affair, really was not 
 so, but the chemist said — 
 
 " Really, my dear sir, you are in a very bad state in- 
 deed. I am sure I don't know what I shall do for you. 
 , You require to have jour wounds carefully dressed in the 
 
 first place, and then rest and strengthening medicines in 
 the second." 
 
 " The first I may have," replied Blueskin, " but the 
 second is quite out of the question. Dress my wounds as 
 well as you are able." 
 
 Thus commanded, the chemist set about his rather un- 
 pleasant task. 
 
 We must do him the justice to say that he performed 
 it in a very creditable manner. 
 
 When he had finished, Blueskin was quite overcome. 
 
 Perceiving it, the chemist gave him permission to stay 
 where he was for a few hours. 
 
 Of this Blueskin took immediate advantage, thanking 
 him as he did so. 
 
 _ A few hours' quiet rest, and a couple of doses of medi- 
 cine, which the chemist mixed up, as well as some 
 strengthening food, made a most wonderful difference. 
 
 By dusk he was quite another man. 
 
 Unquestionably it would have been best for him to 
 have persevered in his present course of treatment, but 
 his impatience to know Jack's fate, and that also of his 
 master's child, Edgworth Bess, made it impossible for 
 him to do so. 
 
 Giving the chemist five guineas for his trouble and 
 attention, he left the shop. 
 
 Upon going outside, he found himself in Union-street, 
 Southwark. 
 
 He knew, of course, in a moment, which way to take, 
 now that his head and mind were clear. 
 
 He directed his 6teps to London-bridge, intending to 
 get that way to Newgate-street, and make some inquiries 
 there. 
 
 He looked oat for a hackney-coach for some time, but 
 unsuccessfully. 
 
 But he walked on until he reached the Borough, where 
 he made sure he should see one pass. 
 
 As it so happened, however, not one was in sight. 
 
 While standing and looking, he was startled by a voice 
 at his elbow. 
 
 "Any cloesh, sir? — any cloesh? Here's shome that 
 will just shuit you. Very sheap, too. Valkin, sir. Valk 
 in." 
 
 Blueskin turned round before half this speech, which 
 was spoken with extreme volubility, was uttered, and saw 
 standing near him, in a deferential attitude, an old Jew 
 clothes' salesman. 
 
 A flaring oil-lamp from the shop, which waB the corner 
 one, sent a flickering light upon the pavement, and by the 
 aid of this, Blueskin looked down at his apparel, and per- 
 ceiving the shocking condition he was in, did not hesitate 
 to accept the man's proposal. 
 
 From a large assortment he selected a suit of clothes, 
 such as he considered would best suit him. 
 
 These were quite of an ordinary kind, and such as would 
 be worn by almost any one in the middle rank of life. 
 
 He changed his own for these, and paid the difference. 
 
 He made some improvements in his toilet, and gave 
 himself a good washing, so that when he emerged from 
 the clothier s he looked quite a reputable character. 
 
 There was only one thing he now required to complete 
 the metamorphosis, and that was the services of a barber. 
 
 In London one has not far to go to find one of these 
 shops, so without hesitation he went into the first to 
 which he came. 
 
 In addition to being shaved — and in this latter opera- 
 tion he had all vestige of beard, mustache, and whisker 
 removed from his face — he had his hair cut. 
 
 Scarcely any one would have believed that a few simple 
 changes like these would have made the difference they did. 
 
 He now looked a gentleman. 
 
 Leaving the barber's shop, he walked to the kerb- 
 stone, and stood there waiting for a hackney-coach to pass 
 him. 
 
 While so engagea, a ragged, shrunken, and emaciated 
 object crawled up to him. 
 
 " Want a coach, your honour ? " he said. " Let me 
 fetch one for you. God bless your honour! I am 
 starving ! " 
 
 Something in the tone of this man's voice struck Blueskin 
 as being familiar. 
 
 Where he had heard them before he could not think for 
 a moment, but all at once he recollected. 
 
 With a fierce cry upon his lips, he sprang forward and 
 graspod the poor miserable-looking being by the throat.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 211 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVII. 
 
 BLUESKIN PLATS THE PART OF THE GOOD SAJIAEITAN, 
 AND IS REWARDED FOR SO DOING, 
 
 It was Steggs! 
 
 That miserable being, who had first of all brought upon 
 poor Bdgworth Bess so much woe and pewecution. 
 
 One glance made Blueskin quite sure of his identity. 
 
 But since he saw him last a great change in his appear- 
 ance had taken place. 
 
 Does the reader recollect that last occasion ? 
 
 It is not actually so far back in time, but during that 
 interval a multitude of incidents had taken place. 
 
 For this reason it may have been forgotten. 
 
 The last time, then, that Blueskin saw him was when, 
 after his recovery at the abbey ruins from the wound 
 Jonathan had given him, he had disguised himself, and 
 in the most daring manner possible forced a way into 
 Jonathan Wild's house. 
 
 He did this because he was impressed with the idea 
 that in the cells, the situation of which, beneath the thief- 
 taker's abode, he knew so well, he should find Jack Shep- 
 pard and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 As we have shown, he arrived there just a little too 
 late. 
 
 Both those whom he sought had been there, but, by a 
 strange concatenation of events, had been set free. 
 
 But on opening the cell doors in his fruitless search, 
 he came to the one in which Jonathan had incarcerated 
 Steggs. 
 
 That individual came forth. 
 
 He was then in a frightful state of emaciation, for the 
 thief-taker never troubled himself much about supplying 
 his prisoners with the necessaries of life. 
 
 Well disguised as Blueskin was upon that occasion, 
 Steggs did not, of course, recognise him. 
 
 But Blueskin knew him, and an angry feeling welled 
 up in his mind, but he stifled his resentment, for he 
 felt that that was anything but a fitting time for its dis- 
 play. 
 
 How Blueskin and Steggs and the other prisoner, whom 
 the former had released from the cells, succeeded in effect- 
 ing their escape from Wild's house, has already been re- 
 lated to the reader. 
 
 On reaching the street, Blueskin had forcibly requested 
 them to separate, and all three had taken different roads. 
 
 But from that moment, we have not heard a word re- 
 specting Steggs's proceedings. 
 
 Blueskin felt a deep-seated animosity against this man. 
 
 Was he not an enemy to his master's child ? 
 
 And so, from the sudden impulse of the moment, when 
 he heard his voice and knew him, he had seized him 
 round the throat with a vice-like grasp. 
 
 He relaxed his hold, however, for he did not wish to 
 crush out what life there was in him, and that, to judge 
 by his looks, was very little. 
 
 He was in hopes he should be able to extract some in- 
 formation from him respecting those he sought. 
 
 Changed, as he was, Steggs did not know Blueskin, and 
 the sudden attack had taken him completely by surprise. 
 
 He gasped for breath. 
 
 That he was really starving with hunger, the exhausted 
 state of his body fully proved. 
 
 " Speak ! " said Blueskin, sternly, drawing him aside 
 into the shadow of the houses as he spoke. " Speak, and 
 beware how you trifle with me, or give me a false reply. 
 Speak, I say." 
 
 Steggs made a violent effort. 
 
 It was plain he wished to answer his interrogator, but 
 it was beyond him. 
 
 He tried and failed. 
 
 Blueskin noted this. 
 
 He saw and felt certain that he was upon the very 
 brink of the grave, and that unless some assistance was 
 promptly rendered him, he would assuredly perish. 
 
 Much as he detested the man, and little as he felt inclined 
 to do him a service, still Blueskin was certain that if 
 he wished to obtain any information from him, he must 
 succour him. 
 
 " Come," he said, " cheer up ! Cross over the road 
 with mo to yonder public-house, and you shall have some- 
 thing to eat and drink." 
 
 Could Steggs, by any possibility, have commanded his 
 voice to thank them for this offer, he would have done so. 
 
 His lips moved convulsively, but gave utterance to no 
 sound. 
 He made, however, a step forward in advance. 
 Blueskin took him by the arm, and led him iulo a 
 
 Eublic-house nearly opposite the spot upon which they 
 ad been standing. 
 
 The ^proom was almost deserted, and only partially 
 lighted -ap, but there was a fire burning in the grate, 
 which diffused both light and warmth. 
 
 " What will you have ? " asked Blueskin. " Speak 
 freely. You shall have what you desire if you will 
 answer what questions I choose to ask you." 
 
 Steggs nodded. 
 
 Then, after a violent struggle, he said, in a faint and 
 almost inaudible whisper— 
 
 "Brandy." 
 
 This, under the circumstances, was not the wisest thing 
 he could have, but Blueskin was not over-solicitous about 
 him, so long as he could give him the information for 
 which he panted. 
 
 Accordingly he ordered two glasses of brandy. 
 
 No sooner was the fiery beverage set down before 
 Steggs than, with a trembling hand, he grasped the glass 
 and can-ied it to his lips. 
 
 He did not remove it from them until the glass was 
 empty. 
 
 Then he fell back upon the seat like one dead. 
 
 He recovered himself, however, and, leaning forward so 
 as to rest himself upon the table, he looked Blueskin in 
 the face. 
 
 By the look of his countenance, it could be perceived 
 that he possessed some faiut recollection of him. 
 
 Blueskin watched him in silence for some few moments, 
 and then, as the poor wretch seemed to have regained the 
 use of his faculties, he said— 
 
 " Now speak." 
 
 " What do you wish to know ? " asked Steggs, feebly. 
 " Who are you ? " 
 
 " Do not question me," said Blueskin, " but reply at 
 once to what I say." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 "Beware how you speak falsely." 
 
 " I will, kind sir." 
 
 "I give you warning, that if you do, you will pay dearly 
 for it." 
 
 " But who are you ? " asked Steggs again, who, as the 
 brandy began to exert itself upon him, assumed his 
 natural caution. 
 
 " That does not matter. I am one whom you havo 
 done enough to make a bitter enemy of, but if you will 
 serve me truly, I will forget the past, and make you my 
 friend." 
 
 "The past," moaned Steggs. "The past! the past! 
 Would I could recall it. Would I had had the power of 
 looking into the future, how differently I should have 
 acted ! " 
 
 " Are you sure of that ? " asked Blueskin, eagerly. 
 
 " Why should ycu doubt me? Two paths lay opeu to 
 me. I ehose one. Look to what it has brought me." 
 
 " I do not understand you, but you seem much betelr 
 than you did." 
 
 " I am hungry ; oh ! so hungry ! " 
 
 " Have something to eat, then," said Blueskin, moved 
 by the manner in which he spoke. 
 
 He knocked for the waiter, and in a few moments had 
 a plate of bread and meat brought in, which Steggs 
 devoured with the avidity of a famished tiger. 
 
 H Now answer me," said Blueskin ; " surely I ought 
 it. aspect something from your hauds. Where is Edg- 
 worth Bess ? " 
 
 " Edgworth Bess ! " 
 
 /" Yes — do not repeat my words, but answer me at once." 
 
 " I know not 5 I know not. I have not seen her for a 
 long long time. But tell me, are you a friend of hers ? " 
 
 " As much her friend as you have been her enemy." 
 
 "Have been," cried Steggs, "have been! I bitterly 
 regret the past. Would that I did know where she was, 
 aud then I should have an opportunity of making some 
 atonement for that which I have done. 
 
 " You repent, then ? " 
 
 " Most heartily." 
 
 " And you know not where she is ? " 
 
 " I do not. In search of her I have tramped all over 
 London, but not the faintest trace can I find."
 
 214 
 
 BLUESKIN : 4 ROMANCE. 
 
 Blneslcin groaned. 
 
 " She is r.ot in Wild's possession," cried Steggs ; " I 
 feel almost certain of that. I have watched las house 
 closely, hut I have seen nothing to cause suspicion." 
 
 " Stay now," said Blueskin; " you are better now." 
 
 " Yes, thanks to von, much hotter." 
 
 "Tbeu let us talk over matters a littlb, pr I quietly, if 
 we can. In me you see the dearest friend that the poor 
 girl, who is known best as Edgworth Bess, uaj." 
 
 " Vou, then, are " 
 
 " No matter what ; I am called BlucsFin." 
 
 " [llueskin ! " cried Steggs, starting, " then yon arc one 
 of Jonathan Wild's men ? ' 
 
 "Not so; we are foes. Do you vemember som«» one 
 delivered you from Hie cells beneath his house?" 
 
 " 1 do. lie was a tall and well-dresssd gentleman." 
 
 Blueskin smiled. 
 
 "It was myself. The disguise was one which I had 
 assumed for a particular pui|>ose, but tut necessity lor 
 which exists no longer. 1 set you free ! " 
 
 " Is it possible ? " 
 
 " Yes ; my errand thero on that night was to ascertain 
 whether Edg worth Bess aud Jack Suepparu "— — 
 
 "Cursehiuil" 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I say curse him ! n 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Why, because if it had not been far him and his inter- 
 ference, all would have been well." 
 
 "All would have been ill, you mean," cried Blueskiu, 
 "for then you and your rascally employer would havo 
 triumphed in your villainy." 
 
 CHAPTER CXLVIII. 
 
 3TEGG9 AND BLUESKIN MAKE A MUTUAL COMPACT, AND 
 BOTH RESOLVE UPON JONATHAN WILD'S DESTRUCTION. 
 
 11 Forgive me," said Steggs, in a deprecatory, humble 
 manner. " Forgive me. 1 was carried away just then 
 by my own bad passions, and knew not what I said ; but 
 I am one who finds it very hard to put up with a blow or 
 defeat at the hands of any one, and both of the^e have I 
 experienced at the hands of Jack Sheppard." 
 
 I have been already made acquainted with the history 
 of the past," said Blueskin, " and can understand your 
 breaking out when I meutioued Jack Sheppard, but you 
 will have to look upon him as a trieud if you an, sincere 
 in your desire to do Edgworth Bess a service." 
 
 " That's it. I want, if I possibly can, to make repa- 
 ration for the wrong 1 have done her. Whether I shall 
 succeed is more than I can say, but I shall make the 
 attempt." 
 
 " The best of us could do no more. Then listen to me, 
 and I will explain that which seems strange to you. I 
 had been attacked by Jonathan Wild, and left for dead. 
 At the same time he captured Jack Sheppard and 
 Edgworth Bess." 
 
 I remember," said Steggs, gloomily. " I remember. 
 It was at an abbey in Gloucestershire." 
 
 " It was. I recovered from the terrible wound I had 
 received, and not wishing Jonathan to know that I was 
 still in life, disguised myself in the manner you saw." 
 
 " In the cells ? " 
 
 " Yes. Of course, knowing (hat both Sheppard and 
 Edgworth Bess had been captured by Wild, I made sure 
 of fiuding them beneath the cells in his house. So I 
 watched him out, and then made a violent entry into the 
 house, gained the cells, threw opeu the doors of every 
 one, released you and another, but found not those wbom 
 I had come to seek. How we got out, and the rest, you 
 know." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " A t my command, we separated ; aud now, having told 
 you so far, explain to me by what chance you became a 
 prisoner. I thought you were friendly to Lord Ooumull's 
 interest." 
 
 " And so I was." 
 
 " Then why were you confined f " 
 
 " Cannot you guess ? " 
 
 M I do not know enough- 
 
 " 1 will tel' you, then. Jonathan Wiid wished to get 
 his lordship wholly in his power, and was jealous of me." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " So he took advantage of me, poisoned the ear of Lord 
 Donmull with false doubts about me, and, in the er>'', T 
 was captured by his myrmidons, and lodged in the gloomy 
 and pestiferous dungeon in which you found me." 
 
 " Then you are no friend of Wild's ? " 
 
 "Friend! Ha! ha! I should like to cut his throat, 
 and I will do it, too ; I will do it ! " 
 
 " Do not excite yourself. You will do yourself a serious 
 injury if you do. It seems to ma quite clear that our 
 enemies — and by 'our' I mean myself, Jack Sheppard, and 
 Edgworth Bess — are yours ; aud so, surely, we ought to 
 work together. But we will leave that for the present. 
 Tell me what became of you after your release." 
 
 " I can do so in a very few words, but I ought first to 
 tell you that I have been, in times back, a bad aud evil 
 man — loving wickedness for its own sake ; so when Wil- 
 hams, who had been an old comrade ot mine, sent lor me 
 when on his ding bed, and related the story about the 
 heiress of the Donmull estates, which I daresay you 
 know, 1 promised him that I would do all I could to pro- 
 cure her that ot which she had been deprived." 
 
 " Instead of which "— — 
 
 "Insted of which, as soon as I left the chamber ot 
 death, 1 begau to turu the matter over in my mind, and 
 consider how 1 could turu it to the best advautage. My 
 judgment deceived me. J thought the best bargain 1 
 could mak» -ould be to go to the nobleman who already 
 had possess-on ol the estates, and take part with him. 1 
 did so. Thi result, I need not tell you, for you know it 
 already. 1 have been justly punished." 
 
 " You have," said Blueskin, " but" 
 
 " One moment. I have not said now that which 1 
 intended. While in the solitude of the cell in which 
 Jonathan had placed me, I had ample opportunities of 
 thinking over the past. I repented, but repentance came 
 too late. Nevertheless, when you set me free, I was an 
 altered man. From that moment I looked upon Wild as 
 my enemy ; as for Lord Donmull, I scarcely consider him, 
 in the state in which I last saw him, worthy of the enmity 
 of any one ! " 
 
 " lie is a villain," said Blueskin, " and bas acted like 
 one, and 1 will take good care he does not escape the 
 penalty due to his deeds." 
 
 " But it is Wild," said Steggs, fiercely. " I hate him, 
 and I will have his Ufe ! But you see to what I am 
 reduced. When you saw me, I was literally dying of 
 starvation." 
 
 " I have saved you, then, and if you are sincere in what 
 you have just said, we shall be friends in future. We 
 ought to both work together." 
 
 " Our ends are the same." 
 
 " They are. The one purpose of my life is to restore 
 poor Edgworth Bess to her rights, and if you will lend me 
 your assistance, I do not doubt we shall both succeed. 
 As for Jonathan, we have one or two little scores to wipe 
 off." 
 
 " Tell me what I can do," said Steggs. " Show me 
 how I can serve you and the heiress, and how I can 
 obtain my revenge upon Wild." 
 
 " We must consider the matter over. It is one which 
 cannot be decided upon in a moment. I have myself 
 sworn to bring Jonathan Wild to the scaffold, and I will 
 do it, even though I had to perish with him ! " 
 
 " I, too, have made the same oath," said Steggs, with 
 increasing energy, " and surely, between the two of us, it 
 will be kept." 
 
 " It will on my part. But leave that. Will you swear 
 that you are sincere in all that you have said to me ? " 
 
 " I swear I am, and if you knew all the particulars ot 
 the case, you would not ask the question. No longer will 
 I serve those who requite my services in so ungrateful a 
 manner." 
 
 " Then, that is sufficient. I will trust you, aud I bid 
 you beware how you attempt to play me false ! " 
 
 " Yon need not fear." 
 
 " I warn you. And now, have you found no clue to the 
 whereabouts of Edgworth Bess ? ' 
 
 " None whatever." 
 
 " She escaped from Wild's oeOs," said BlueskiD. 
 
 M Are you certain of that ? " 
 
 " Quite certain. I have the best evidence of it." 
 
 " Yon mean, you have seen her since." 
 
 " No ; but I had it from the person who set her fre« ! "
 
 BLTTESKTN: A ROMAN CB. 
 
 816 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 " But in some unaccountable way she disappeared, and 
 since that time I have neither seen nor heard anything 
 O! her." 
 
 " 1 cannot think she is in Wild's possession." 
 
 " But you have no proof of that ? ' 
 
 " No j I have no proof, bat I have watched his actions." 
 
 " And the result ? " 
 
 " 1 cannot think he either has her at bis house, or 
 knows where she is." 
 
 " Ah ! well. We must see. Jack Sheppard, I am 
 afraid, is an inmate of Newgate." 
 
 " Again ! " 
 
 " Yes, again ! " 
 
 " How many times will that make P" 
 
 " Twice ! " 
 
 " Then, if I was him, I should beware of the third." 
 
 " Pho ! pho ! Now, take my advice. Rest yourself and 
 recover your strength, as well as you can. 1 will furnish 
 you with money. You had better stay here, I should 
 think." 
 
 " As you will ; but in what way am I to assist yon P " 
 
 " That we must consider." 
 
 " I have a plan." 
 
 "Have you P" 
 
 "Yes!'' 
 
 " Is it a good one?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Does it stand a fair chance of success P" 
 
 ■ 1 think so." 
 
 " Let me hear it, then." 
 
 " It is this." 
 
 He spoke a few words in a low tone. 
 
 What was their import will presently appear, but we 
 cannot now disclose it. 
 
 Blueskin looked grave, and tben he said— 
 
 " 1 am afraid it is impossible." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " 1 know by experience how bard he is to deceive." 
 
 " And 1," said Steggs, " know my powers of deception ! 
 At any rate, if 1 make the tiial, no harm can happen to 
 any one save myself." 
 
 r ' No ; that is true." 
 
 " Well, theu, 1 think I ought to try it. Should I suc- 
 ceed, you know the advantage it will bring." 
 
 " It will." 
 
 " And is it not worth while to run a little risk for the 
 accomplishment of so much P " 
 
 "It is ; and I only hope you will succeed j but vou must 
 not think of trying for a day or so, or, at all events, until 
 you have recovered your strength somewhat." 
 
 " Leave that to me, Blueskin ; 1 will try my best, for 
 I am with you body and soul, and not only that — I shall 
 be serving your interests, and procuring my own revenge 
 at the same time." 
 
 "The tatter is a powerful inducement, no doubt. But 
 you must be careful; the scheme, which you propose is 
 9 most dillicult one indeed, and 1 am afraid you will find 
 it im|>ossible." 
 
 " hull 1 urn willing to run the risk." 
 
 " Then you think, 1 suppose, no one ought to interfere. 
 Should you succeed it will be a great thing lor all of us. 
 1 shall go uow and procure what intelligence 1 can. Do 
 you in the meantime stay here." 
 
 " A little rest will enable me to recover my strength." 
 
 "Then employ that time in maturing your bold and 
 daring plan. You ought to consider well before you 
 attempt it." 
 
 " 1 shall do so, never fear. I am not one ready to 
 throw my lite away." 
 
 " Here is money, then. I mnry be some hours before I 
 return; but do not you, on any account, stir forth. Let 
 me feel 6ure of tiuding you here." 
 
 " You can rely upon me." 
 
 " 1 will leave you, theu," said Biuesk>n. and as be spoke 
 he set out upon his difficult errand. 
 
 CHAPTER CXLIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD VT1ACKS TH* PI KATES III rtfEIE 4VJCBET 
 UAUK'i, AMJ ACHIEVES A VlCTOIi t. 
 
 Jonathan Wild could not subdue a certain amount of 
 very natural excitement which he felt upon seeing the 
 door in the rocks which led to the pirates' cave. 
 
 He signalled to bis men. 
 
 Some portion of his excitement seemed to have com- 
 municated itself to them, for they obeyed with unusual 
 promptitude. 
 
 The second ladder was raisod. 
 
 It was fixed in a similar manner to the first, and placed 
 close beside it. 
 
 The men rushed up both with eager impetuosity. 
 
 The ladders, of course, were very soon quite full, and 
 they would only hold a small portion of the men. 
 
 When all was in readiness, Jonathan prepared to give 
 the word to demolish the door. 
 
 This they were told to do at one blow, if possible, and 
 then they were to rush into the cavern as quickly as they 
 could, and wait just inside the entrance until they bad 
 been joined by all their companions. 
 
 But just as be was about to do this, a slight rumbling 
 noise was heard overhead. 
 
 He held up his hand for all to be silent. 
 
 They listened rather anxiously to know what was going 
 to happen. 
 
 All put themselves in a posture of defence. 
 
 The next sound they heard, and which followed closely 
 upon the other, was one to which they were all familiar- 
 ized. 
 
 Some one was unfastening a door. 
 
 That door was the one through which they wished to 
 pass. 
 
 Was it possible that they bad arrived at the very moment 
 when the pirates were about to leave their abiding 
 place P 
 
 It might be so. 
 
 Or was it Uawkins, who, from some place or other, had 
 observed their approach, and opened the door to facilitate 
 their entrance ? 
 
 Jonathan thought the latter the more probable suppo- 
 sition of the two. 
 
 But for once he was mistaken. 
 
 He was not, however, in possession of one little fact 
 which the reader is. 
 
 Hawkins, who Lad so cleverly joined the pirate band, 
 and hit upon so clever a means of conveying the requisite 
 intelligence to Wild, had beep detected in his treachery, 
 and his lite had paid the forfeit. 
 
 At that very moment, instead of busying himself about 
 Jonathan and his aflairs, he was lying cold and still in the 
 rudolv-hollowed grave, into which, by the commands of 
 Captain 11 owlet, he had been cast when he was cut down. 
 
 And now the reader will please carry back his recol- 
 lection to that scene in the cavern, when Edgworth Bess 
 having with so much courage and ditiiculty made her 
 escape from her chamber, had fallen once more into 
 the arms of the much-dreaded pirate. 
 
 Upon making this discovery, the poor persecuted girl 
 ceased to struggle, and lapsed into a strange state of semi- 
 consciousness. 
 
 Captain llowlet carried her into the outer cavern. 
 
 Then, with apparent suddenuess, he gave the order to 
 his men to go on board at once. 
 
 In obedience to this command, they had hastily got 
 themselves in readiness, and Lurried along the passage 
 which led to the secret door in the rocks. 
 
 The captain brought up the rear, and when the ex- 
 tremity was reached, the door was unfastened. 
 
 But ere they could opeu it, a loud voice had cried out 
 in a tone of command, and the door was flung open in 
 their faces. 
 
 Then rushed into the cavern a large body of men. 
 
 These were Jonathan Wild and his band, who Lad 
 arrived at this, to them, fortunate juncture. 
 
 Had they been a little later, the pirates would have been 
 aboard their fast-sailing vessel, and there all hopes of 
 capturing them would have been at an end. 
 
 As it w.is, he was just in time. 
 
 The pirates were Uikeu completely by surprise. 
 
 Their ferocious explain was, hi wcver, tiio fcrst to 
 recover himself, and ho shouted to his crew to defend 
 themselves. 
 
 Before they could obey him, however, Jonathan had 
 succeeded in obtaining a lodgment. 
 
 His men swurmed up alter him. 
 
 The place would have been profoundly dark, had it not 
 bc?:» for the dark lanterns which Wild's janizaries had 
 brought with them.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 These they unmasked, and held in their left hands. 
 In their right they grasped their swords. 
 The broad beams of light which passed through the 
 lense* enabled them to see their adversaries distinctly, 
 while they themselves remained invisible, for the bright 
 light, falling on the faces of the pirates, dazzled them, 
 and made them unable to see plainly. 
 
 In spite of the commands of their chief, they did not 
 tight with that valiancy which one would have oxpected 
 from men who had for so long a time succeeded in malting 
 themselves a terror to others. 
 
 A panic had taken possession of them. 
 When this is the case it is vain for the commander to 
 hope for victory. 
 
 Jonathan's men, on the contrary, animated by the 
 actions of their leader, and encouraged to do their utmost 
 for the reward the3 r would gain, fought with the greatest 
 fury. 
 The pirates gave ground. 
 
 Captain Howlet, with such a feeling of ungovernable 
 rage at his heart as to defy all power of depiction, strove 
 to rally them. 
 But it was of no avail. 
 
 The retrograde movement had been commenced. 
 They could not stop. 
 
 Back — back, foot by foot, they went down the narrow 
 passage leading to the large cavern. 
 
 The din of the conflict in that confined space was really 
 terrific. 
 
 There were oaths, and cries, and shrieks, and fierce 
 words of command. 
 
 Mingled with these were firing of pistols, and the 
 clashing of swords. 
 
 Foremost in the fray was Jonathan Wild. 
 Ho swung his hanger round his head, and brought it 
 down with a vigour and effect which testified in a very 
 remarkable manner to the immense strength which he 
 possessed. 
 And here he had the advantage of Captain Howlet. 
 He led his own men. 
 
 This, tbc latter did not, and could not do, for he held 
 Edgworth Bess in his arms. 
 
 So strong was his passion for her, that he took no part 
 in the fight, save by shouting to his men. 
 He kept in the rear with his prisoner. 
 Upon reaching the larger cavern, the pirates made a 
 temporary stand. 
 
 There was a light here, too, which enabled them to see 
 the numbers and position of their adversaries. 
 
 When they saw how nearly equal they were — that indeed 
 their unexpected foes only out-numbered them by five or 
 six — they experienced a momentary return of courage. 
 
 They began to grow conscious that they were fighting 
 for their lives. 
 
 Finding that the varions oil lamps placed about the 
 cavern gave a tolerably bright and steady light, Wild's 
 men threw away the dark lanterns, considering them un- 
 necessary. 
 
 But Jonathan himself, happening to look in the direo- 
 tion where Captain Howlet stood, caught sight of a female 
 form. 
 
 At that moment she struggled desperately, and uttered 
 an ear-piercing shriek, which sounded high above all the 
 din of the conflict, and echoed with a dreary, melancholy 
 cadence in the off-branching caverns. 
 The face was turned towards him. 
 J onathan saw it. 
 
 The shriek that came from the girl's lips was almost 
 immediately followed by one of those terrible and un- 
 earthly roars to which at times the thief-taker gave utter- 
 ance when anything occurred which surprised or angered 
 him. 
 
 This time it expressed surprise. 
 And incredulity as well. 
 
 By what extraordinary succession of incidents came 
 Edgworth Bess in the power of Captain Howlet, and an 
 inmate of the pirates' caves ? 
 He was at a loss to think. 
 
 He would have fancied it must be a case of mistaken 
 identity, but he was too familiar with the giri a features 
 to fall into any mistake of that kind. 
 He did not stop to speculate. 
 
 Bushing forward with redoubled fury, he aimed his 
 way to whore the pirate captain stood. 
 
 To reach him, however, he would have to cut his way 
 through the whole band. 
 
 But to do this Wild did not shrink. 
 Right and left the pirates fell or gave way before the 
 long sweeping strokes of his terrible weapon, which 
 every time came down with so much force as to make a 
 second blow unnecessary. 
 
 At last the pirates, one and all, threw down their 
 swords and cried for quarter. 
 
 Jonathan Wild did not trouble himself to look whether 
 it was granted to them or not, but made his way over a 
 heap of the dead and dying to the captain, who even now 
 would not relinquish his hold of Edgworth Bess, though 
 she struggled most furiously in his arms. 
 
 But, upon seeing Jonathan approach, he fairly took her 
 up, and ran with her in the direction of the excavation in 
 the side from which the house above could be reached. 
 This place was quite dark. 
 
 Jonathan, however, did not stop for a light, but shouted 
 to his men to bring one, and follow him. 
 
 The footsteps of the captain now ceased, and so had the 
 cries of Edgworth Bess. 
 These had hitherto been a guide to him. 
 In an agony of apprehension, lest, after all, the girl 
 should escape, he dashed forward, screaming out to bit 
 men to bring a light. 
 
 CHAPTER CL. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD CHASES CAPTAIN HOWLET, ALIAS COLONE) 
 THORNE, THROUGH THE MANSION, AND OBTAINS POS- 
 SESSION OF EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 Jonathan, however, encountered no obstacle to his pro- 
 gress, nor could he hear anything but a slight rustling 
 noise. 
 
 But his men, with lights in their hands, now made their 
 way into the lesser cavern, for such it was, in which he 
 stood. 
 
 It was, he found, of tolerable size, but as he glanced 
 with his eagle eye about it, no trace of Captain Howlet 
 and his prey could be seen. 
 
 But one of his men happening to glance upward, saw 
 something, to which he called Jonathan's immediate at- 
 tention. 
 
 At a considerable distance from the floor of the cavern, 
 and climbing desperately up a rope, with Edgworth Bess 
 in his arms, was the pirate. 
 
 This was a sight for which all were unprepared. 
 
 It was easy to perceive, from the manner in which she 
 hung over his left arm, that the poor girl was insensible. 
 
 This would account for the cessation of her cries. 
 
 One would have thought, however, that even though 
 6he did not struggle, but hung a dead weight, it was 
 quite impossible to ascend a rope so burdened. 
 
 But Colonel Thome was a rather out-of-the-way sort of 
 personage. 
 
 His gigantic form, and almost superhuman strength, 
 for it was in keeping with his bulk, has been already 
 reverted to. 
 
 This was one thing that assisted him. 
 
 Then another was, that he was a finished sailor. 
 
 Unlike many captains, there was no duty about ship 
 which he could not perform with dexterity and ease. 
 
 Climbing a rope was one of them — perhaps, the one he 
 could do best. 
 
 The knots in this rope, too, made a most wonderful 
 difference. 
 
 But still the feat was one which few would have 
 attempted, and fewer still have been able to carry out. 
 
 It was, let it be said, with the utmost difficulty that the 
 pixate-chief performed it. 
 
 The rope, as the reader will doubtless recollect, had 
 been cut by Lieutenant Morgan, and the en& of it, instead 
 of reaching nearly to the floor, as it had done at the time 
 of Edgworth Bess making her descent, now was just 
 about on a level with a tall man's head. 
 
 The cry that came from the lips of all, made the cap- 
 tain aware that he had been discovered; but so far from 
 allowing that to daunt him, it only served ao an incentive 
 to fresh exertions, for all saw that his speed was accele- 
 rated. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, under the impulse of the moment, 
 drew his pistol when he first saw it. 
 
 His finger pressed the trigger, and in another moment
 
 [jack sheppard and his companions are attacked by the police.] 
 
 the weapon would bave been discharged, but a sudden 
 thought made him alter his intention. 
 
 That he would hit his mark there was little doubt. 
 
 But had he done so, what would have been the result ? 
 
 The captain's hold upon the rope would have relaxed. 
 
 He would have fallen to the ground. 
 
 Had not the bullet slain him, the fall upon the rocky 
 floor of the cavern most assuredly would. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was in his arms. 
 
 She would have fallen with him. 
 
 She would have met with the same fate. 
 
 Now, if there was one thing that Jonathan desired more 
 than another, it was that the life of Edgworth Bess 
 should be preserved, let the circumstances be what they 
 might. 
 
 If she, through any unlucky accident, should perish, 
 the whole of his deeply-laid plans would be annihilated — 
 frustrated. 
 
 Accordingly he lowered the point of his weapon, and 
 returned it to his belt. 
 
 Captain Howlet, if he had seen this threatening move- 
 ment upon the part of his enemy, did not take the least 
 notice of it, but bent the whole of his energies to the 
 superhuman task of climbing upwards. 
 
 Strong and skilful as he was, he found that every foot 
 he ascended cost him a greater effort than the preceding 
 
 No sooner had Jonathan restored the pistol to his belt, 
 than he shouted—" Follow me, my men ! Follow me ! 
 
 At the same moment he dashed forward, and grasping 
 the end of the thick rope with both hands, commenced 
 climbing up it. , _ 
 
 The first was the most difficult part, because he had no 
 hold for his feet. 
 
 When, however, he got up a little way, and could rest 
 them upon the large knots, it became a comparatively easy 
 matter. , , 
 
 It might be that the thief-taker was less expert than 
 the pirate, but then that disadvantage was more than 
 counteracted by his being unencumbered. 
 
 No. 28.
 
 PM* 
 
 PT.CRSKnJ: A HOMASCB. 
 
 Wild's men, as soon as he had got high enough, one by 
 one began to climb the rope, and they looked liko so many 
 rata on a string. 
 
 Ah the strain upon the rope increased, some very sus- 
 picious cracks were heard, calculated to excito the greatest 
 uneasiness in the minds of those who heard them. 
 
 Jonathan, however, would not have stayed for a much 
 greater danger than that. 
 
 Unheeding the ominous sounds, he continued his up- 
 ward course ; but, in spite of all his efforts, he did not 
 gain much upon Captain Howlet, who had had an excellent 
 start. 
 
 So long, however, as he did not reach the top of the 
 rope much before he did, Jonathan did not care. 
 
 The darkness increased rapidly the higher they went 
 up, for the only light of any kind there was in the place, 
 was such as proceeded from the lauterns his men below 
 nad with them. 
 
 Not once, though, did Wild look down. 
 
 He fixed his eyes steadfastly upon the dusky form of 
 the pirate-chief, and his burden above him. 
 
 More and more indistinct did they become, and he had 
 to strain his vision to continue seeing them. 
 
 Suddenly, however, they disappeared. 
 
 Almost the same moment, too, the vibration of the rope 
 from above ceased utterly. 
 
 " He has reached the top," thought Jonathan, and ho 
 increased his speed. 
 
 At this time he was probably fifteen or twenty feet from 
 the floor of the cavern. 
 
 Hanging below him were four or five of his men. 
 
 The strain upon the rope was very great, but still not 
 more than it could bear with safety, provided it was 
 secured properly at the top. 
 
 But there was the question. 
 
 Directly he reached the top of the rope, Captain Howlet 
 found the panel open, as Edgworth Bess had left it. 
 
 This was fortunate for him, 6ince it enabled him to gain 
 the chamber with all the greater ease. 
 
 Thrusting her first through the aperture, the captain 
 followed. 
 
 An awful expression of diabolical malice was on Lis face. 
 
 His secret was discovered. 
 
 His band destroyed. 
 
 Himself a fugitive. 
 
 But let the extremity of his fortune be what it might, 
 he determined not to abandon the young girl, for whom 
 he had conceived so violent and uncontrollable a passion. 
 
 She was still insensible, and lay in a huddled-up mass 
 upon the flooring, just where he had placed her. 
 
 So great was his fatigue, that he found himself com- 
 pelled to rest a minute or two in order to recruit his 
 strength. 
 
 He laid himself down at full length upon the floor. 
 
 But ere he had been a second in this position he crawled 
 forward a little, and holding his head over the verge of 
 the abyss, peeped down. 
 
 Far below he could see the lights which were carried 
 by the men on the floor of the cavern. 
 
 Then he, with difficult}', made out the form of Jona- 
 than Wild ascending the rope. 
 
 This every now and then cracked with tho strain that 
 was put upon it. 
 
 The sound came to the pirate's ears. 
 
 It gave him a new thought. 
 
 The malignant expression upon his countenance 
 deepened. 
 
 Raising himself a little, he sought with his hand in his 
 belt. 
 
 He dsrew from a sheath suspended from it a large and 
 beautifully-tempered dagger. 
 
 The few rays of light that found their way into tho 
 apartment seemed to focus themselves upon it, for, as 
 he moved it, a faint gleam betrayed its presence. 
 
 Holding this dagger firmly in his right hand, he 
 again sank down, so that his head was over the abyss. 
 
 This time he could tell his foes were much nearer. 
 
 But he could almost have shrieked with exultation at 
 the utter discomfiture they were about to receive at his 
 hands, but he deemed it most prudent to stifle the incli- 
 nation. 
 
 Gently, so that his foe should have no indication of what 
 be was about, and eo take the alarm, Captain Howl"* felt 
 
 for Hie ro{-c?. 
 
 It was stretched to euoh a degree that it felt more liko 
 a bar of iron than aught else. 
 
 With the same goutlenoss aa he had before used, the 
 pirate, as soon as he had found the ropo, drew his knife 
 across it. 
 
 At the first stroko, only the outside of the strands were 
 severed. 
 
 At the second, the dagger sunk further in. 
 
 He did not remove it from its position, but gently drew 
 it across for tho third time. 
 
 A tearing noise followed. 
 
 The remainder of the ropo, unable to bear the strain, 
 was giving way thread after thread. 
 
 Those below must have had some idea of their peril, 
 hut before they could escape, the rope, with a loud snap, 
 gave way altogether. 
 
 CHAPTER CLI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD HAS A NAKKOW ESCAPE 0? HIS LIFE, 
 AND 18 MORE THAN EVER DETERMINED TO BRING THE 
 CAREER OF CAPTAIN nOWLET TO AN END. 
 
 As soon as this sound reached his ears, Captaiu Uowlet 
 gave way to the inclination ho had felt to indulge himself 
 in a loud shriek of laughter. 
 
 It was discordant and nnmirthful, and echoed mourn- 
 fully in tho cavern. 
 
 It was accompanied, too, by another sound, which all 
 but drowned it. 
 
 This was the horrible cry of fear which Jouathan and 
 his men uttered when they found themselves falling through 
 spaco. 
 
 A few fleeting seconds passed. 
 
 Then they reached the hard, rocky floor of the cavern 
 with a dull crash. 
 
 Quickly succeeding it came the yella of excruciating 
 agony to which those gavo vent who had received the 
 slightest injuries. 
 
 The others were either dead, or in a state greatly 
 resembling it. 
 
 It was rather strange that the thought did not occur to 
 the crafty and politic brain of Jonathan Wild that the first 
 thing tho pirate would be likely to do upon reaching the 
 top would be to sever the rope, and thus cut off all access 
 to him. 
 
 Had he thought of it, he would not have trusted himself 
 to climb up it in the manner he had, for fear of the con- 
 sequences. 
 
 The best of us are apt at times, especially during any 
 great excitement, to omit to take into consideration all 
 the probabilities of tho caso. 
 
 In this instance Jouathan did not. 
 
 All seemed safe and still, so he continued his upward 
 course at the best speed he could make. 
 
 All at once, however, he fancied he felt tho ropo 
 lengthen. 
 
 A repetition of the same thing told him that it was no 
 fancy, but reality. 
 
 A cold sweat broke out all over him. 
 
 The rope was giving way. 
 
 TJndor the impulse of the moment, he did what was, 
 under the circumstances, the very best thing he could do. 
 
 He relaxed his hold upon the rope, and slipped down. 
 
 But, before he could reach the head of the man next 
 him, the rope above, with the snapping sound we have 
 recorded, gave way altogether. 
 
 Involuntarily, Jonathan shut his eyes, and uttered a 
 groan of horror. 
 
 He fully believed that his last hour had come. 
 
 The belief was shared, and the cry of horror echoed 
 by all who hung belgw him. 
 
 Then they reached the bottom. 
 
 In this fortune favoured Jonathan Wild to a grealei 
 extent than such a wretch deserved. 
 
 Those who were lowest were worst off. 
 
 Received the greatest injuries. 
 
 He was at the top. 
 
 Consequently, when all fell, he never reached the^ rock 
 at all, but came down on the mass of men beneath him. 
 
 The shock of the fall was great, of course, and for a j 
 minute or so he was unconscious. 
 
 At the end of that time, however, he was in full pos- 
 sessien of his faculties, both bodily and mental. 
 
 lie had scrambled to his feet before tho men who had
 
 BLTTE8KIX: A B0MA3C1, 
 
 319 
 
 been standing below bud recorded from the sudden sur- 
 prise. 
 
 Every breath he drew seemed to invigorate Jonathan, 
 and to show bim that, after all, the injuries he had received 
 from the fearful fall were rery slight indeed. 
 
 " Quick I quick ! " ho yelled ; " never mind those who 
 are hurt! Run some of you to the entrance of the 
 cavern, and bring the two ladders with you. Let a dozen 
 descend into the boat, and be rowed to the nearest land- 
 ing-place to ' The Larches.' Surround the house, and see 
 that the pirate-chief escapes not ! " 
 
 The men did not hesitate a moment, and well was it 
 that they did not, but set off at full speed to the entrance. 
 
 A dozen then made their way into one of the boats 
 which had conveyed them thither, and were swiftly rowed 
 away into the darkness of the night. 
 
 The remainder then drew up the ladders, whioh were 
 of very great length indeed. 
 
 The angles and turnings in the narrow passage leading 
 to the cavern made it difficult for them to be carried, but 
 these obstacles were, without muoh loss of time, over- 
 come. 
 
 By the time they returned, they found Jonathan had 
 prepared a quantity of rope, by the aid of which the two 
 ladders were hastily but firmly lashed together. 
 
 Thus joined, they roally looked as though they would 
 enable him to gain the point he wished to reach. 
 
 The pirates had all been vanquished. Quarter had been 
 refused to all of them, and all that remained of the much- 
 dreaded Howlet band were a few bleeding, wounded 
 forms, from whom it would have been a mercy to trample 
 out what little of that mystorious essence of life which 
 clung to thorn. 
 
 This was not done, however. 
 
 Five men had been on the rope with Jonathan. 
 
 Three of these were dead, and so were two more upou 
 whom it happened to fall. 
 
 The other two were only partially injured. 
 
 Jonathan got off best of all. 
 
 The time that had been taken to do all this was really 
 very short indeed, and before Wild had thoroughly re- 
 covered his breath, he commenced the ascent of the 
 ladders. 
 
 This time he took a lantern in his hand, in order to see 
 his way before him. 
 
 For fear lest the ladders should give way where they 
 had been tied together, only one man was allowed to 
 follow him. 
 
 Against what the top portion of the ladder rested, Wild, 
 of course, had no idea. 
 
 As he mounted, which he did fearlessly and rapidly 
 enough, he flashed his lantern about him. 
 
 The smaller cavern seemed to be of a very remarkable 
 6hape. 
 
 Generally the height of a cavern bears some degree of 
 proportion to the diameter. 
 
 But in this case, all such proportion wa3 set at de- 
 fiance. 
 
 The diameter of it was only a few yards, but the height 
 eccmed many feet. 
 
 The sides were smooth, white, and even. 
 
 At last, as ho ascended, Jonathan came to the conclu- 
 sion that this shape was not natural, but that the roof of 
 the cavern had been raised. 
 
 As he got higher, he soon found that the sides tapered 
 iu rapidly, so that the appearauco presented was that of 
 some huge funnel. 
 
 At length he reached the top round of the second 
 ladder. 
 
 He directed the light of his lantern upwards. 
 
 Just out of his reach he could see the piece of ropo 
 dangling down where Captain Howlot had cut it. 
 
 Could he but grasp this, Jonathan felt that all would bo 
 well. 
 
 Cautiously, for the attempt was full of peril, he mounted 
 two more rounds, and stood upon the topmost one, hold- 
 ing to the wall for support. 
 
 It was an awful situation. 
 
 Tho least tremor of the body, the least giddiness, &i.d 
 ho must have been precipitated to the bottom. 
 
 Nothing could have saved him. 
 
 But Wild was cool and collected. 
 
 Even now, the rope was barely within reach of lik out- 
 
 stretched hands, but at length he managed to take a hold 
 of it with his fingers. 
 
 This grasp he soon increased, and then, when he had 
 it in both hands, he quitted his foothold upon the ladder, 
 and hung, suspended m mid air, by the mere strength in 
 his wrists alone. 
 
 It was a feat which few besides those who had trained 
 themselves to the performance of similar feats would 
 have attempted. 
 
 Gradually Jonathan drew his body up until he reached 
 the spring panel opening into the chamber which had 
 been occupied by Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He could not see into this place, for wheu he had to 
 make use of both hands, he had hung the lantern to his 
 belt, it being provided with a handle made specially for 
 that purpose. 
 
 Tho panel had been left just as Bess had propped it 
 open. 
 
 No doubt Captain Howlet felt pretty sure that he had 
 discomfited his enemies for some time to come, and, that 
 now the rope was cut, it was quite impossible to ascend. 
 
 But he did not know the man with whom he had to 
 contend. 
 
 He was, as the present narrative displays, a man with 
 an expedient brain and an indomitable spirit, which would 
 make him rise superior to any dangers. 
 
 The faint night light which made its way into the room, 
 enabled Jonathan Wild to perceive the outlines of the 
 aperture. 
 
 But knowing he was unsupported, he listened before he 
 attempted to crawl in. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 Tho captain wr.s not in that part of his residence, at all 
 events. 
 
 Jonathan, therefore, ventured to climb through the 
 sliding panel. 
 
 But he put himself in an attitude of defence as soon 
 as he could, for fear the pirate should be lurking some- 
 where in the room. 
 
 By flashing the light of his lantern round it, however, 
 he assured himself that it was empty. 
 
 The next step was to devise some means by which he 
 could be joined by his men, for it would never do for 
 him to engage tho pirate single-handed. 
 
 Kneeling down, then, he saw that the one man who had 
 followed him up the ladder was at the top of it, unable to 
 proceed any further. 
 
 "Descend," said Jonathan, " and bring back the coil of 
 rope. I will fasten it afresh, and then you will manage 
 easily. Quick, there is not a moment to lose ! " 
 
 The man, in his zeal to obey the thief-taker, did not 
 stop to descend the ladder step by step, but striding his 
 legs, he slipped down the whole distance. 
 
 Quickly seizing the end of the rope, and bidding two or 
 three others to follow him, he ran up again. 
 
 He found, upon reaching the top, that Jonathan had 
 taken off his neckcloth, and was holding it down at the 
 full length of his arm. 
 
 The man comprehended in a moment what it was in- 
 tended for, so taking the rope, he tied one end of the neck- 
 cloth to it. 
 
 When this was done, Wild drew the rope up, and, 
 somehow or other, managed to secure it iu the same 
 manner as before. 
 
 Then he called out to his men to ascend as quickly as 
 they could. 
 
 CHAPTER CLII. 
 
 COLONEL THORNE TAKES A GREAT DEAL OP USELESS 
 TROUBLE, BUT DETERMINES TO CHEAT JONATHAN 
 WILD. 
 
 With the rope thus placed, Jonathan's men had very 
 little difficulty in making their way through the secret 
 panel into the room where their leader was waiting for 
 them. 
 
 Tho ladder, too, had been found quite strong enough to 
 bear four of their number upon it at one time. 
 
 Jonathan only waited until he had got half-a-dozen men 
 around him, and then drawing his own sword, and hold- 
 ing the dark 'antern in his left hand, ho called out to 
 them to do likewise and follow him.
 
 sao 
 
 BLtJF.SKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 With these words on his iips, he flung open the door, 
 for Vt v/as not fastened in any way, and passed through it. 
 
 A flight of steps was just before him, and he ran down 
 without hesitation. 
 
 At the foot of it numerous doors could be seen leading 
 in different directions. 
 
 Which one to take to follow in the steps of Colonel 
 Thorne was more than he could tell. 
 
 He hoped, however, that those of his janizaries who had 
 gone round in the boat would be in time to surround the 
 house, and make it impossible for him to leave it. 
 
 In a systematic manner Jonathan commenced an exami- 
 nation of the mansion. 
 
 Everywhere his eye turned, objects of the greatest 
 beauty and value met his gaze, and, accustomed as he 
 was to grandeur when visiting his noble patrona, Jonathan 
 could not restrain his astonishment at the beauty of every- 
 thing which he beheld. 
 
 He lost no time, however, by looking at these. He was 
 one, who, having once set his mind upon an idea, never 
 allowed anything foreign to tempt him from it. 
 
 Leaving the great thief -taker to prosecute his search, 
 whioh, from the size of the mansion must, of necessity, 
 occupy some time, we will turn our attention to Colonel 
 Thorne and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 When he had, as he thought, completed the discom- 
 fiture of his foes, he remained for some moments leaning 
 over the abyss, gloating over the pain which he had 
 caused. 
 
 But he did not wait until Jonathan recovered. 
 
 Just before that interesting event, feeling that his 
 strength had in a great measure returned to him, he 
 rose. 
 
 Edgworth Bess still lay exactly in the same position 
 upon the floor as that in which he had placed her. 
 
 This would indicate that her swoon, caused by repeated 
 and continued frights, still held her faculties in bondage. 
 
 Captain Howlet made no effort to restore her. 
 
 He knew that while she was in that state he should 
 have less trouble with her, and he had firmly resolved 
 not to fly without her, if he could possibly avoid it. 
 
 Once more, then, taking her up in his arms, and feeling, 
 although much fatigued, scarcely any ineonvenienco from 
 her weight, he strode across the room to the door leading 
 to the staircase. 
 
 This one, it will be recollected, was, while Edgwosth 
 Bess was prisoner, kept securely locked, and he had to 
 waste a few minutes fumbling in the pocket of his coat for 
 the key. 
 
 At last he grasped it, and then, thrusting it into the 
 lock, shot back the bolt. 
 
 He fluDg the door open and passed through. 
 
 He had no light with him, but the place was too 
 familiar to him for that to be much inconvenience. 
 
 He descended the staircase slowly and cautiously. 
 
 Turning to the left as soon as he reached the foot of it, 
 he made his way along a kind of corridor, and thence 
 through a small door into a room. 
 
 " Curses on this unlucky chance ! " he cried, in tones of 
 the utmost fury. " Another five minutes, and I should 
 have been safe on board my bonny bark, with the black 
 flag floating over me. Then all would have been well." 
 _ A small couch was in the room, and upon this he depo- 
 sited poor Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " More than all, too, I am known. The well- kept secret 
 of so many years laid bare ! But, never mind, I have yet 
 some time before me, and I will employ that time as best 
 I may to my own advantage and my foe's undoing ! I 
 have been a dreaded outlaw on the deep ! Now shall I 
 begin a new existence on the shore. This place I must 
 for ever abandon. It grieves me to think so, but there is 
 no help for it. To stay here longer will be impossible." 
 
 He was silent for a moment. 
 
 " Let me see," he said, " I will first secrete about my 
 person, in as small a compass as I can, a portion of my 
 wealth. I shall have time to do that, for, ten to one, if it is 
 Known how easily the house may be approached from the 
 sea. At any rate, I will risk it, for I might as well quit 
 life at once, as leave this place without wealth in my 
 possession ! " 
 
 While thus speaking, Captain Howlet had not been idle 
 or inactive. 
 
 In a recess in this room was a large oaken cabinet, a 
 marvel to look at, with its quaint and intricate carving 
 and massive bands of iron, which served at the same time 
 to strengthen and adorn it. 
 
 This, by means of a key which he carried attached to a 
 ribbon round his neck, the captain opened. 
 
 A multitude of little drawers were disclosed. 
 
 Opening one of these at random, he began, with great 
 expedition, to transfer its contents to his pockets. 
 
 It consisted of nothing but unset gems of great size 
 and brilliancy, each one of which must have been worth 
 a large sum of money. 
 
 This was, indeed, stowing wealth into a small compass. 
 
 That one drawer alone contained sufficient to have satis- 
 fied the wants of a moderate man during a long life. 
 
 But these the colonel did not think enough. 
 
 He opened another drawer. 
 
 The contents were the same. 
 
 And so on he continued, until he had actually stuffed 
 his pockets with brilliants. 
 
 The wealth which he thus had in his possession must 
 have been enormous, and it is difficult to imagine by what 
 means he became possessed of such a collection. 
 
 However, there they were. 
 
 " Much more," said the captain, " would I gladly take 
 away, but I cannot. I must content myself with that 
 which I have already, and get away in safety with it. 
 That is the next important thing to do." 
 
 As he spoke, he carefully locked the doors of the cabinet 
 again, so that it did not present any signs of having been 
 opened. 
 
 This done, he turned towards the couch upon which ho 
 had placed the insensible and persecuted girl. 
 
 " You," he said, " shall be the partner of my flight. I 
 know not how it is that I have conceived so violent and 
 unquenchable a passion for you, nor is thisa fitting time to 
 speculate upon it. Still insensible," he added. " Well, 
 perhaps it is better so, provided her insensibility does not 
 endure for ever." 
 
 With these last words on his lips, Captain Howlet 
 stooped over the couch, and raised his captive in his arms. 
 
 He turned towards the door. 
 
 But, ere he passed through it, he cast one last look upon 
 the different objects the room contained. 
 
 " Farewell, old friends," he said, in a voice of affected 
 jocularity, and as though he was addressing sentient 
 beings, " farewell, all of you ! Heaven knows into whose 
 possession you may fall next, but I must leave you. It 
 grieves me to do so, but I cannot stay. It will vex me to 
 see another the inhabitant of this place ; yet, stay — I 
 have a thought ! Yes, I will do it. I shall at least pre- 
 vent that ! " 
 
 The colonel again placed Edgworth Bess upon the 
 couch, in order to carry out his suddenly-resolved-upon 
 intention. 
 
 What it was will be quickly seen. 
 
 Advancing to the fireplace, he took from the mantel- 
 shelf a tinder-box. 
 
 He next heaped a quantity of paper and rubbish on the 
 floor. 
 
 Then, by the aid of the above-named implement, he 
 set fire to it. 
 
 The little heap blazed up brightly instantly. 
 
 He applied the fire to different portions of the apart- 
 ment. 
 
 The walls were wainscoated, and the wood, owing to 
 its great age, was in a very dry and rotten state. 
 
 It caught the fire as quickly as the most inflammable 
 material would. 
 
 From the position of the room, Colonel Thorne well 
 enough knew that if the fire once got fair hold of it, it 
 would spread with great rapidity to the remainder of the 
 mansion, and then all attempts to extinguish it would be 
 futile. 
 
 Grief and satisfaction struggled for mastery in hip 
 breast, as he stood for a minute or two contLMiiplatiug the 
 destruction which was taking place around him. 
 
 Colonel Thorne was human. 
 
 He loved his home. 
 
 Not a single thing was in it that did not possess some 
 special interest to him, and so he found it was, as he said, 
 hard indeed to leave it. 
 
 No other person, however, would lay claim to them.
 
 BMTE9KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 211 
 
 and he drew no small amount of consolation from this 
 source. 
 
 Urged, however, by the heat of the flames, as well as 
 the impolicy of staying longer, he once more, and for the 
 last time, raised Edgworth Bess in his arms. 
 
 She moaned slightly, thus showing that, in spite of all 
 nor perils, she still lived. 
 
 The colonel carried her towards the door. 
 
 By the time he reached it, the temperature of the room 
 had risen to an insufferable degree, and the walls were 
 mere sheets of flame. 
 
 The reader will not fail to have perceived, by his ac- 
 tions, that the colonel entertained no idea of being in 
 any imminent danger. 
 
 He calculated that some time must yet elapse before 
 his foes made an attack upon him, if they did so at all, 
 After the terrible repulse he had given them by severing 
 the rope. 
 
 Leisurely, therefore, as one might call it, he had made 
 hispreparations for taking his departure. 
 
 He quite expected he should be able to do so, and be 
 unmolested. 
 
 In this, however, he was doomed to be deceived. 
 
 He did not take into consideration the extraordinary 
 character of the man with whom he had to deal. 
 
 He thought him disabled from taking any active mea- 
 sures just at present. 
 
 How woefully he was deceived ! 
 
 At that very moment, the men who had been sent by 
 Wild in the boat, under the directions of the men who 
 were well acquainted with the locality, had reached the 
 lawn, and formed a circle round the house, through which 
 it would be impossible for him to pass undetected. 
 
 We have said he took Bess for the last time in his arms, 
 and advanced to the door. 
 
 He had determined that, at all risks, she should share 
 his flight. 
 
 He flung open the door, and would have passed out into 
 the corridor beyond. 
 
 But just as he did so, his ears were saluted by a terrible 
 shout. 
 
 A roar. 
 
 An exclamation came also from his own lips, and he 
 paused where he stood. 
 
 Before him, blocking up the doorway, was Jonathan 
 Wild and a dozen of his men. 
 
 CHAPTER CLIII. 
 
 THE COMBAT IN THE BURNING ROOM. JONATHAN WILD 
 SAVES EDGWORTH BESS, BUT HAS SOME TROUBLE 
 WITH COLONEL THORNE. 
 
 One would almost have thought that, upon seeing this 
 spectacle, the wild pirate-chief would have then and there 
 lost all hope. 
 
 But he did not, though what he did looked almost as 
 though he had. 
 
 Perceiving the state of affairs outside, he did not attempt 
 to attack them, nor did he allow them a chance of attack- 
 ing bim, but, with the suddenness of thought, darted 
 back into the burning room, and closed the door behind 
 him. 
 
 This was a feat that looked like absolute insanity or 
 suicide. 
 
 Jonathan was frantic. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, he feared, would after all be lost to 
 him. 
 
 The pirate-chief had chosen to perish rather than sur- 
 render, and he had chosen that Edgworth Bess should 
 perish with him. 
 
 At least, such was Jonathan Wild's idea. 
 
 The first he might have done without the thiet-taker 
 raising a finger to prevent it, but as for the second, that 
 was absolute destruction to all his most cherished schemes. 
 
 Accordingly he shouted to his men to batter down the 
 door, setting them the example himself. 
 
 But the wily pirate had taken care to fasten it securely 
 on the inner side, and all their efforts to force it proved 
 abortive. 
 
 It was not, however, with any intention of seeking so 
 disagreeable and painful a death as that which fire would 
 
 inflict which made the colonel retreat into the burning 
 room, but he saw that it was absolutely impossible for 
 him to cut a way through the mass of men before him. 
 
 It was not too late, he thought, to retreat into the 
 room, and effect his escape by the window, and no sooner 
 did the idea occur to him, than he set about putting it 
 into execution. 
 
 The door of the room was fitted with a strong lock. 
 
 The key was inside. 
 
 To turn it took him but an instant only, and then he 
 felt himself secure for a few minutes at least. 
 
 But by this time the temperature of the room had in- 
 creased to an almost insufferable degree. 
 
 There was not much smoke, but what little there was 
 was of a very pungent character. 
 
 He inhaled it with great difficulty. 
 
 His lungs seemed blistered by every breath he drew. 
 
 It had the effect of restoring Bess to consciousness, for 
 she uttered a piercing shriek, which came to Wild's ears 
 with the greatest plainness, and increased the agony of 
 apprehension under which he already laboured. 
 
 His blows upon the door increased in fury. 
 
 Already it began to shake beneath his strokes. 
 
 Colonel Thome, puzzled and confused by the heat and 
 smoke and struggles of his captive, made the best of his 
 way to the window. 
 
 But just as he reached it, and dashed it open, he found 
 himself confronted by another body of men. 
 
 They were those who had been stationed on the outside. 
 
 A horrible curse, which made the blood curdle in the 
 veins of Edgworth Bess, came hissing from the parched 
 throat of the pirate-chief. 
 
 He was ensnared. 
 
 There was no way he could turn to make his escape. 
 
 Crash, crash, came the blows upon the door, and at 
 last, with a final effort, it was sent bodily inward. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, heedless of the fierce flames, dashed in. 
 
 The form of the pirate-captain and the girl he wished 
 to save were clearly defined from the surrounding red. 
 
 They were near the centre of the room. 
 
 The colonel had been forced there by the flames, to stop 
 the progress of which no effort had been made, and which 
 had already seized upon the principal portions of the 
 building. 
 
 He saw Wild coming. 
 
 Still retaining his hold upon Edgworth Bess, he drew 
 his sword and made a fierce thrust at him. 
 
 _ But Jonathan warded off the blow, and attacked him in 
 his turn, though not with that fury which he otherwise 
 would, for fear lest he should injure Edgworth Bess. 
 
 ' " Yield, villain ! " he cried. " Put down the girl, or 
 give her to me, and you shall have a chance of your life ! 
 Do you hear me ? Put down the girl, I say ! " 
 
 Our readers may imagine the state of Jonathan's mind 
 at seeing Edgworth Bess in such imminent danger of 
 losing her life. As for the colonel, he might have died 
 a thousand times if he thought proper. His life was of 
 no value to him at all. 
 
 But with the girl it was different. 
 
 Colonel Thome, however, although he saw no prospect 
 of escape from a lingering death, would not release his 
 hold, but struck at Wild with his heavy sword. 
 
 The advantages were all on his side. Both were skilful 
 swordsmen, but, then, Wild was afraid to strike. 
 
 The interior of the room, too, was like a furnace. 
 
 Wild's men, although he repeatedly called to them, 
 were deaf to his calls. It looked too hazardous to enter, 
 and they preferred braving his anger, if ever he came out 
 again. 
 
 Of this they had some doubts, for the flames had seized 
 upon the woodwork of the door. 
 
 The shrieks that came from the lips of Edgworth Bess, 
 who was now in full possession of her senses, were really 
 heartrending. 
 
 Jonathan felt that he was blistering all over, that hi3 
 apparel was already dried to such an extent that the least 
 thing would cause it to burst into a flame. 
 
 A species of madness must have seized upon the brain 
 of the pirate-chief, now that he had realized his truly 
 desperate position. 
 
 But he attacked Wild with the bKndest impetuosity. 
 
 Suddenly, howetSij the thief-taker saw an opening for 
 his sword.
 
 222 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCS. 
 
 To see it, and make ubo of it, were simultaneous events. 
 
 Shortening his arm, he lunged forward with his sword. 
 
 The point entered the pirate's chest. 
 
 Such, too, was the vigour of the thrust, that the point 
 came out of the back, and the hilt, with a dull, sickening 
 sound, struck against his breast. 
 
 A j»\l of mortal agony carue from the colonel s lips, 
 hut, badly hurt though he was, he did not give up the 
 contest. 
 
 But his strength lasted only a moment. 
 
 Jonathan withdrew his sword. 
 
 A gush of blood followed it. 
 
 That gush of blood seemed to be the strength of Colonel 
 Thorno, for when it had flowed away, ho staggered, and 
 the light hold winch ho had kept of Bdgworth Bess re- 
 laxed. 
 
 The poor girl had never ceased to struggle, and now, by 
 a stronger effort, she succeeded in freeing herself alto- 
 gether. 
 
 Jonathan saw this, and darting forward, caught her in 
 his arms. 
 
 But he had like to have paid for this action with his 
 life, for the captain, with what little remaining^ strength he 
 had, raised his ponderous sword with the intention of 
 bringing it down upon his head. 
 
 By a chance, though, Jonathan saw him, and stepped 
 aside just as the weapon was descending. 
 
 liaising his own sword, ho struck it from tho pirato's 
 feeble grasp, and tho next moment sheathed it in his 
 breast. 
 
 The colonel staggerod, reeled, then fell heavily upon 
 the floor. 
 
 At tho same instant a shriek of still greater anguish 
 burst from the hps of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Iler apparel was in flames. 
 
 It is a wonder almost that this did not occur before. 
 
 With great presence of mind, Jonathan, seeing that he 
 had nothing more to fear from Colonel Thome, pulled off 
 his huge coat, and wrapped it closely about her persou. 
 
 This, if it did not actually extinguish tho flames, m a 
 great measuro subdued thorn. 
 
 His next proceeding was to tarn his attention to leaving 
 the burning chamber. 
 
 If we were to say that five minutes had elapsed from the 
 time he dashed into it up to now, wo should be exceeding 
 the length of the period. 
 
 But those who have witnessed a conflagration on a 
 largo scale can tell what progress can bo ruado during that 
 brief interval, especially when the flames have got a fair 
 hold. 
 
 At the time he entered, as we have seen, not one of his 
 janizaries would obey his orders and follow him. 
 
 And now, as Wild looked round him, he was notable to 
 see any means of exit. 
 
 He was encompassed by a huge wall of flame. 
 
 He shouted aloud to his men, in order to tell by their 
 reply which way ho ought to take, but the roaring sound 
 which the flames produced was so tremendous, that he 
 feared he should not be heard. 
 
 Suddenly, however, he heard a faint cry, or what to 
 him sounded like a faint cry, though, by its intimation, he 
 could tell that it was a loud and lusty one, but subdued 
 by distance, or passing through some medium which only 
 partially transmitted sound. 
 
 Ho turned instantly in the direction from which tho 
 sound seemed to come, but ere he could advance a pace, 
 there was a horrible crashing noise as though the roof 
 was falling in. 
 
 Jonathan gave himself up for lost. 
 
 But it was not the roof which felL < 
 
 It was the wall, he thought. 
 
 But it was neither the one nor the other. 
 
 He could see a largo gap, tolerably free from flame, and 
 bevond it the open sky. 
 
 The window had fallen in. 
 
 Yes, that was it. 
 
 Jonathan dashed forward. 
 
 In its fall it bad smothered tho flames to some tfegrae, 
 and though in a minute or two he knew they woulJ \ <irst 
 forth with redoubled fury, yet, if ho was quick, ho should 
 be able to pass through before this occurred. 
 
 Darting forward, then, and shrieking out in a half- 
 maddened manner to his men, Jonathan reached tho 
 window. 
 
 His men had heard the shouts, and approached. 
 
 They expected he was burned to a cinder. 
 
 In a moment Jonathan handed out Edgworth Bess, and 
 ordered them to place her in safety on the lawn. 
 
 Then he began to scramble out himself. 
 
 Already had he got his one knee upon the window-sill, 
 which was rather high from the ground, when some one 
 or something clutched him by the ankle. 
 
 ne tried to shake off the grasp. 
 
 He tried to continue climbing through the window. 
 
 Both in vain. 
 
 A vigorous tug was given to his leg, and, although he 
 clutched desperately at the window-sill, he was dragged 
 backwards with tremendous violence into the burning 
 room. 
 
 CHAPTER CLIV. 
 
 COLONEL THORNE PERISHES AMID THE RUINS OF THE 
 HOUSE, AND JONATHAN WILD REACHES NEWGATE- 
 STREET IN SAFETY WITH HIS PRISONER. 
 
 No sooner did Jonathan reach the ground, than he felt 
 the grasp shifted from his leg to his neck. 
 
 Exasperated beyond all measure, and endowed by pas- 
 sion with more than twice his usual strength, Wild, in his 
 turn, grappled with his opponent. 
 
 It was Colonel Thome. 
 
 Tho wounds which he had received from Wild's sword 
 had not slain him, though it was impossible for him ever 
 to recover. 
 
 But when he fell backwards, the fire had brought him 
 to himself, and he crawled along tho floor, and with groat 
 pain and difficulty, in tho direction which Wild took. 
 
 He reached the window just as his enemy was passing 
 ont of it. 
 
 Maddened with pain and rage, he determined that hi3 
 foe should not escape, but perish with him, and so, sum. 
 moning what little strength ho possessed, he grasped him 
 with both hands by the ankle, and dragged him down. 
 
 Then he seized him by the throat, with the tenacity oi 
 a death grasp. 
 
 But Jonathan, although he had gone through so much 
 fatigue, was the stronger man of the two. 
 
 Yet it was questionable whether he should be able to 
 shako off his foe in time to save himself from being 
 burned to death. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " gasped the colonel, in a hissing 
 whisper, "you have conquored me, and I know it; but 
 you shall not live to exult over your victory. You shall 
 perish with me." 
 
 " Never ! " replied his antagonist, and at the same time 
 feeling in his pocket for his clasp knife. " Never 1 " 
 
 The colonel tightened his grip. 
 
 But Jonathan had got his formidable knife. 
 
 He opened the blade with his teeth. 
 
 It fixed itself with a snap, for it was furnished with a 
 spring to prevent it closing. 
 
 Then he stabbed madly at his foe. 
 
 At first the blows made no difference, but at length 
 Jonathan freed himself. 
 
 Then, with the utmost haste, he rose to his feet. 
 
 To his horror, however, he found tho window nearly 
 one sheet of flame. 
 
 But to hesitate or stay longer where he was would have 
 been fatal. 
 
 Making a desperate spring, he alighted on the sill, and 
 thence rolled down on to the lawn a mass of burns and 
 bruises. 
 
 Here he was picked up by his men, who, after his fall 
 back, had been unable to assist him, and carried to a dis- 
 tance from the burning mansion. 
 
 He swore most horribly the while. 
 
 And no wonder. 
 
 The pain he was suffering was almost more than he 
 could endure. 
 
 "'.Water ! 'water ! " he shrieked ; " curse you all ! Bring 
 me water ! water ! " 
 
 It so happened, when he made this frantic appeal, that 
 they reached one of those artificial littlo ponds frequently 
 seen in gardens, in which gold and silver fish are kept. 
 
 This he caught sight of, and rather than wait for any 
 one to fetch what ho wanted, he commanded them to put 
 him down.
 
 SLCESKTIT: A ROMAHCE, 
 
 223 
 
 They knew better than to disobey. 
 On his hands and feet, then, he crawled to this little 
 pond, and when he reached the edge, rolled himself fairly 
 into it. 
 
 The cold water was delightfully refreshing. 
 
 The bottom of the pond was composed of smooth stones, 
 and the water was not more than a foot in depth, and so 
 he fairly bathed himself in it. 
 
 His clothes were burnt and smouldering in many places. 
 
 But now they were extinguished. 
 
 His impatience, however, to ascertain the condition of 
 Edgworth Bes3 was too great to allow him to stay longer 
 in the enjoyment of his cold bath. 
 
 He scrambled out, therefore, but he was officiously 
 assisted by his men. 
 
 His appearance would have excited the laughter of 
 most people, and a smile did flit over the faces of his 
 followers. 
 
 He looked like a demon. 
 
 His head and face were blackened with fire and smoke. 
 
 His clothing hung in tatters about him. 
 
 " Where is the girl ? " he cried. 
 
 " Here, Mr. Wild. This way, if you please." 
 
 Jonathan growled, and followed the man across the 
 lawn to a place where Edgworth Bess had been laid. 
 
 A garden seat had been selected for this purpose. 
 
 Her clothes had been extinguished by the men, hut she 
 was again insensible. 
 
 Her fair face and hands were burnt and blistered iD 
 many places, but she had not received anything like such 
 injuries as Jonathan Wild. 
 
 At the first glance, so death-like did she appear, 
 that Jonathan fancied he had had all bis trouble for 
 nothing. 
 
 But he was assured by the men tLat it was nothing 
 more than a faint. 
 
 " Run, some one," he cried, " and fetch a carriage of 
 some sort. Haste ! " 
 
 A couple of the janizaries set off at a run to carry out 
 the order. 
 
 Then Jonathan, feeling that, for the moment, ho could 
 do nothing more for the poor persecuted girl, turned his 
 attention to the burning mansion. 
 
 It was now nothing but one mass of flames. 
 
 The colonel was right when he calculated that the 
 Bre would quickly communicate itself to every part of 
 his dwelling. 
 
 It had done so; and, although so short a time had 
 elapsed since he struck the first spark, the place was 
 almost utterly consumed. 
 
 Nothing had been seen of Colonel Thome. 
 
 The men had carefully kept watch all round, in order 
 to see that he did not make his escape. 
 
 Jonathan gazed upon the scene of devastation before 
 him with satisfaction. 
 
 He had triumphed. 
 
 Doubly triumphed. 
 
 The much-dreaded pirate band had been exterminated. 
 
 The pirate-chief had perished in the fire which his own 
 hands had kindled. 
 
 He had escaped death half-a-dozen times by a miracle. 
 
 But more than all, he had recovered possession of that 
 which he valued above all other things on earth. 
 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Yes; the poor girl, who seemed fated to meet with 
 nothing but misfortune, was once more in the power of 
 that bold, bad man. 
 
 We fairly tremble when we think of the dangers she 
 has, up to the present time, passed through. 
 
 But we shudder when we think of what there is in 
 store for her. 
 
 Do not, however, let us anticipate the course of events. 
 
 It is a struggle of feeble right against powerful wrong. 
 
 Which will be victor ? 
 
 By his order, Jonathan was taken to the window, 
 through which he had made his desperate leap. 
 
 The inside of this room was now like a furnace. 
 
 Surely no one could survive in such a heat. 
 
 But suddenly, as ho gazes, he observes a slight move* 
 ment of some dark object within. 
 
 Jonathan strained nis eyes, and approachod as near as 
 the intense heat would let him. 
 
 Yes, something moved. 
 
 But »ku ? 
 
 _ Could life have had so strong a hold upon the ferocious 
 pirate-chief as not to have quitted him. 
 
 It would seem so. 
 
 An arm was raised aloft and then another. 
 
 Then came forth a scream of agony, which made itself 
 heard above all other sounds. 
 
 Next, one blackenod ana waa placad over the window- 
 sill. 
 
 The other followed. 
 
 Then a charred and blackenod ma38 slowly drew itself 
 up upon it. 
 
 Jonathan turned siok at the sight. 
 
 " It will be a mercy to put him out of his misory ! " he 
 said, and as ho spoke he drew a pistol from his belt, aimed 
 it carefully, and fired. 
 
 There was a report and a shriek. 
 
 The blackened form, which was all that remained of 
 the pirate-chief, toppled backwards into the furnace. 
 
 Ere, however, he could actually havo fallen, the whole 
 roof of the rambling building fell in, burying everything 
 beneath its ruins. 
 
 Such was the end of the wealthy and envied Colonel 
 Thome, alias Captain Howlet, tho pirate. 
 
 On the morning of tho third day after the incidents just 
 recorded, a coach, drawn by two horses, went lumbering 
 along the Old Bailey. 
 
 The equipage itself, aa well as the cattle which drew 
 it, gave token that they had just made a long and 
 fatiguing journey. 
 
 _ It was just about sunrise, but the aun had not yet made 
 himself visible to the dwollers in the city. 
 
 At that early hour the generally busy street was quite 
 deserted. 
 
 There was no one to observe tho coach, which came up 
 the Old Bailey from the direction of Ludgate-hill. 
 
 Upon reaching the corner, the driver turned his cattle to 
 the right, and, after proceeding a few paces, came to 
 a halt close to the prison wall, or rather opposite a 
 gloomy, dilapidated house which adjoined it. 
 
 This house, which had every appearance of being unin- 
 habited, must be known to tho reader of tins history. 
 
 It would seem, however, that the arrival of the coach 
 was expected, for no sooner did it stop than the front door 
 of the house was thrown open, and a man appeared upon 
 the threshold. 
 
 At tho same moment tho handle of the coach-door was 
 turned, and the door itself flung open. 
 
 A man emerged. 
 
 One glauce at his hidoous physiognomy would have 
 enabled any one to recognise him. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild ! 
 
 Turning round, he put one foot on the step, and lifted 
 out of the carriage a slcoping or insensible form. 
 
 That was Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The man on the threshold stood in a deferential atti- 
 tude. 
 
 That was Tonka. 
 
 Jonathan Wild once more carried, as a prisoner, into his 
 house the heroine of this story, the poO?<) persecuted 
 heiress, Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Heaven help her ! 
 
 CHAPTER CLV. 
 
 JACK 8HEPPABD AND HIS COMRADES ATTACK THE 
 OFFICERS AND FIND THEMSELVES OUTNUMBERED. 
 
 The report of the pistol which Flood fired at John Roots, 
 the carpenter, as he was descending the staircase, sounded 
 in the silence of that house like the disoharge of a cannon. 
 
 Certainly it would rouse the whole neighbourhood. 
 
 The cry, too, which came from the lips of John Roots 
 was loud and ear-piercing. 
 
 Then he fell with a dull, sickening crash down the rest 
 of the staircase. 
 
 M Fool ! " cried Jack Sheppard, in an angry voice, 
 turning to Matthew Flood, who was quietly replacing 
 the pistol in his pocket. " Fool ! you have ruined all ! " 
 
 "Fool yourself!" roared Flood, angrily. "You|d 
 better mind whr t you're at, I've got another pistol in 
 my pocket."
 
 22± 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Then you had better blow your own braina out with 
 it, and cheat the hangman, for we shall be nabbed now 
 for a certainty." 
 
 His words were followed by the springing of several 
 rattles in the streets, and from the upper part of the 
 house, which was occupied by another family, came cries 
 for help. 
 
 " I couldn't help it," muttered Flood. " If he had 
 gone, on with his shouting, there would have been an end 
 to us, I daresay." 
 
 " You thirsted for his blood," said Jack, savagely, 
 " and I wanted no blood spilt. I undertook the enter- 
 prise more with a view of keeping in with you than any- 
 thing else, and see how you have served us." 
 
 "We must make the best of a bad bargain," said 
 Blewitt, "and not stand haggling here. Come, Jack, 
 settle your row with Mat. another time. Let u» 1*> off. 
 Where is the back-door ? " 
 
 " There is none." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Of course I'm sure." 
 
 " Then we are done for — hark ! " 
 
 As Blewitt pronounced the word, several heavy blows 
 were struck upon the shop door. 
 
 " They will find out the shutter in a moment," con- 
 tinued Blewitt, and then it will be all over with us. What 
 Bhall we do, Jack ?" 
 
 " Don't ask me," replied Sheppard, " wh© was stooping 
 down over the prostrate form of his late master. " Settle 
 it between yourselves." 
 
 _ The two men were much disconcerted by Jack's beha- 
 viour. 
 
 They had great reliance upon him, and had every faith 
 in his opinion. 
 
 The blows upon the outer door redoubled. 
 
 But Jack heeded them not. 
 
 Gently ho raised his master's head, and tried to move 
 him from the awkward position in which he had fallen. 
 
 But his efforts were followed with such a cry of dreadful 
 agony from the lips of tho injured man, that he desisted. 
 
 He let the head sink into the same position. 
 
 Then he heard that strange rattling sound in his throat 
 which is the certain fortokener of death. 
 
 Feeling that he was beyond his aid, and bitterly 
 regretting that he should have ever undertaken or shared 
 in this night's work, he deemed his next duty was to see 
 after his own safety. 
 
 The two men he had with him, who had Cist prompted 
 him to do the deed, and to one of whom their •present 
 dangerous position was owing, were standing together. 
 
 They could not tell what to do for the best. 
 
 " What shall we do, Jack ? What shall we do ? " asked 
 Blewitt, in an agony of apprehension. 
 
 " I know not/' 
 
 " Is there no escape ? " 
 
 "None." 
 
 "Don't say that, Jack." 
 
 " Why not ? It's the truth, and may as well be said 
 as not." 
 
 " Is there no means of getting out ? " 
 
 " None, except by the window or tha door." 
 
 " Our foes are there." 
 
 "I know it." 
 
 " Then we are lost." 
 
 "And through your own folly. You wanted to take 
 his life, and I wanted you to spare it. You have had 
 your own way, and now take the consequences." 
 
 " I am very sorry, Jack," said Flood. " Don't let's 
 have any ill blood just now. What I did was for the 
 best." 
 
 " How many men are outside ? " 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " We must find out, then. Perhapo, if we are -jubk, we 
 shall have a chance of getting off." 
 
 Jack Sheppard, intimate as he was with the place, was 
 the person best fitted to ascertain these two points, so, 
 setting his two companions to guard the staircase and 
 prevent > any one descending, he glided into the shop to 
 reconnoitre. 
 
 No steps had actually been taken to break down the 
 dooi, or it would have been demolished long since. 
 
 ThoBe outside had contested themselves with merely 
 hammering upon it, and demanding entrance. 
 
 Juck knew by going to tho window where they had 
 
 entered, and pushing the shutter the least bit open, he 
 should be able, not only to see, but to hear all that was 
 taking place just in front of the door. 
 
 To his dismay he found, upon putting this mano9uvre 
 into execution, that upwards of a dozen persons had 
 assembled. 
 
 Most of them were watchmen. 
 
 " Shall we break down the door ? " said or \ 
 There's murder inside," said another. 
 
 " Stop till the officers come," cried a thi;- T . 
 
 " Here they are, then," said a fourth. 
 
 Another second, and a compact body of police-officers 
 arrived upon the scene. 
 
 " Murder — murder," cried all. " There's murder being 
 done in old Roots' house. Break the door down, they 
 won't open it." 
 
 " We'll soon see about that," said some one, in a prag- 
 matical tone of voice. " Keep a good look, all. See^tbat 
 nobody leaves the premises. Now, my men," he cried to 
 the officers, over whom he seemed to have some command, 
 " down with the door, and be quick about it." 
 
 " All right, sir," was the reply, and a furious attack 
 was made upon the door. 
 
 So furious a one that it could not possibly long with- 
 stand it. 
 
 The position of the housebreakers was getting 
 desperate. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 Jack withdrew from his place of observation and made 
 his way to the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " Come," he said, " we have only one chance ! " 
 
 "Who is outside?" 
 
 "Twenty people, at least, and more than half are 
 police-officers." 
 
 " Then we are lost ! " 
 
 " I fear so." 
 
 " They are breaking down the door." 
 
 " You are right. I heard the order given for them to 
 do it." 
 
 " And they will soon have it open." 
 
 " You are right." 
 
 " But what chance have we got ? " 
 
 " Let them in." 
 
 "Lot them in?" 
 
 " Yes ! " 
 
 " But how can that bo a chance ? v 
 
 " Cannot you see ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 " Come on, then, and you will." 
 
 " But you don't mean to open the door ?" 
 
 "Yes, I do!" 
 
 " But how will that give us a chance ? I should think 
 that will be throwing a chance away." 
 
 " Not a bit of it ; quite the reverse." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " They won't be prepared for such an event, will they ? " 
 
 " No, I should think not." 
 
 " Of course they won't. Then they will be taken by 
 surprise." 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 " I will unfasten the door quietly.*" 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 " And then fling it open." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " The moment I do so, and before tuey have time to 
 recover from their surprise, dash out amongst them. Let 
 each one look after himself, and in the confusion, we shall, 
 ten to one, escape." 
 
 "Capital, Jack." 
 
 " Don't attempt to keep together. Let each one try to 
 fight himself free, and let each take different directions." 
 
 " All right, Jack. Quick ! quick ! " 
 
 " Yes, or I shall be too late. ' 
 
 The door of the carpenter's shop was a strong one, or it 
 would not have so long resisted the heavy blows that were 
 rained upon it. 
 
 It had given way, however, in many places. 
 
 With all the speed he could, Jack made his way to the 
 door. 
 
 He had fastened it some hundreds of times, so he was 
 at no loss to find the bolts and look. 
 
 As gently as he could he undid them. 
 
 But he found this a more dilficult ma iter than nt
 
 BLDESK1N ; A KOAIAN (.'!.. 
 
 •5.25 
 
 STEGGS, IS DISGUISE, SEEKS EMPLOYMENT EROM JONATHAN WILT). 
 
 imagined, owing to the manner in which the door had 
 been strained. 
 
 He succeeded, though, in undoing all but the bottom 
 bolt, and at the time he was unfastening this, the door 
 was sent violently inwards. 
 . He escaped being thrown down by a miracle. 
 
 The two men were standing in readiness to dart out, 
 according to his commands. 
 
 He sat them the example. 
 
 Uttering a shout, which they echoed, he sprang over 
 the fallen door into the street. 
 
 Ab he had fully anticipated, the officers and others, who 
 were congregated there, were completely taken aback by 
 this sudden sortie. 
 
 It was the last thing they expected. 
 
 But there were too many, and they stood too closely 
 Together for them to get away in the manner that Jack 
 intended. 
 
 Before they got clear, those whom they had first attacked 
 
 [ recovered from their surprise, and turning round, attacked 
 | them. 
 
 The chief police-officer, who, from prudential motives, 
 I had not taken any part in the affray, but stood at a little 
 ! distance, like a skilful general commanding his troops, 
 j saw in a moment the state of affairs. 
 
 He instantly shouted to those on the outside of the 
 little crowd to stop them. 
 ; This they did as well as they were able 
 
 Then a fearful struggle commenced. 
 
 Attacked both in the front and the rear, the three 
 | housebreakers stood but little chance. 
 
 Jack, however, drew a knife from his pocket, and struck 
 out furiously with it. 
 
 But the numbers were too unequal for the contest to 
 endure for any length of time. 
 
 They were surrounded on all sides. 
 i Again snd again, however, did Jack make violent efibrta 
 ! to free himself, but in vain. 
 
 No. 29,
 
 BLUE6KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 t 
 
 CHAPTER CLVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND HIS TWO COMPANIONS ARE MADE 
 PRISONERS BT THE POLICE. 
 
 Each moment, too, that olapsed eerved to make tbeir 
 hopes of escape grow fainter and fainter, for the crowd 
 was continually augmenting. 
 
 The whole neighbourhood by this time was thoroughly 
 alarmed, and from the adjoining courts the people poured 
 out in shoals. 
 
 The officers closed more closely round the three struggling 
 housebreakers. 
 
 Flood was the first captured. 
 
 A well-directed blow laid him prostrate, and before he 
 could recover his feet, two or three of his foes fell bodily 
 upon him, and kept him down. 
 
 In a moment afterwards Blewitt was surrounded and 
 made secure. 
 
 Jack Sheppard saw now that all hopes of making an 
 escape were at an end, but yet he would not surrender. 
 
 On the contrary, he fought with greater desperation and 
 fury. 
 
 But not for long could any one contend against the force 
 of such overwhelming numbers. 
 
 His knife was forced from his grasp. 
 
 He was seized by a dozen different hands in a dozen dif- 
 ferent places. 
 
 Then one, more dexterous than the rest, slipped on a pair 
 of handcuffs. 
 
 He was a prisoner. 
 
 But they found it necessary to secure his ankles with a 
 1 irce of cord, so furiously did he struggle. 
 
 Then, indeed, he was powerless. 
 
 As soon as this was done, the prisoners were left in 
 charge of a strong body, of police and the remainder. headed 
 by their chief, entered the carpenter's shop. 
 
 John Roots was a lonely man. 
 
 He occupied only a portion of the house in Wych-street 
 himself. 
 
 The upper portion he let out to a poor but respectable 
 family. 
 
 These had first spread the alarm by opening a window 
 and springing a rattle. 
 
 They had, however, after hearing the pistol-shot, been 
 afraid to descend the stairs, lest they should meet with a 
 similar fate. 
 
 The chief police-officer and most of his followers were 
 provided with dark lanterns. 
 
 They removed these from their belts, and unclosed the 
 slidea 
 
 Passing through the shop into the little parlour at the 
 back, they came to the foot of the staircase. 
 
 Here, weltering in his blood, they found John Roots, 
 the carpenter. 
 
 An ejaculation of horror came from the lips of all. 
 
 Tbe eight was one which they bad not expected to see. 
 
 " Raise him gently," said tbe chief officer to his subor- 
 dinates, after a few seconds' silence. " Raise him gently, 
 and see if he yet lives." 
 
 This was immediately done. 
 
 An awful groan came from his lips. 
 
 So horrible was the sound, that all recoiled. 
 
 John Roots, then, was not yet dead. 
 
 Jack Sheppard must have been mistaken wnen he 
 fancied he heard the death-rattle in his throat. 
 
 " Carefully," said the chief officer again. " Carefully." 
 
 " He is alive, sir." 
 
 " Yes, so it seems, but it is as much as he is. Let us 
 try if we can learn anything from him as to his mur- 
 derers." 
 
 " I am afraid he is too far gone, sir." 
 
 The chief officer knelt down beside the carpenter, and 
 said — 
 
 " If you have yet life enough in your body, let vour lust 
 breath be spent in declaring the name of the person who 
 has done this deed." 
 
 The words reached the ears 'of John Roots* 
 
 He comprehended their import. 
 
 Hovering as he was upon the brink of another world, 
 hp, by an effort, recalled hie wandering senses, and made 
 as. efibrt to speak. 
 
 Bet vaiclv. 
 
 The bullet from Flood's pistol had entered his breast, 
 and lodged in his lungs, which were almost full of blood. 
 
 By a slight movement of his hand, however, he signified 
 his wish to be raised to a still more upright position. 
 He was instantly obeyed. 
 Then once again he strove to speak. 
 " TeU me," cried the chief of the police, once more, 
 " who is your murderer." 
 
 The struggle which the old carpenter made was a fear- 
 ful on*. 
 None who witnessed it could repress a shudder. 
 
 " J-J-Ja-Jack " 
 
 " Jack ! " cried the astonished officer. " Jack who ? 
 Speak — speak ! " 
 
 " Sh-Shep-Sheppard ! " said John Roots, with a kind of 
 ■hriek. 
 
 " Jack Sheppard ? " cried the officer, in a loud tone of 
 voice. " Are you sure that is the name of the person who 
 murdered you ? " 
 
 The carpenter nodded his head several times with great 
 rapidity. 
 
 And that was the last thing he did. 
 
 Something else appeared to strike him — something, 
 perhaps, which might in some way tend to qualify what 
 he had just said — but his voice failed him. 
 
 Then a quantity of blood gushed from his mouth. 
 
 All was over. 
 
 He sank back into the arms of the officers who had been 
 supporting him, a dead weight. 
 
 " This is a serious business," said the chief officer. 
 " Not only has the house been broken into and robbed, 
 but murder committed likewise. You have heard, all of 
 you, the last words uttered by this poor old man. You 
 must recollect them, for the time will come when you will 
 have to swear what you have heard." 
 
 " All right, sir ; we'll recollect. There can't possibly be 
 any sort of mistake. He spoke plain enough." 
 
 "He did." 
 
 " What is to be done next, sir ? " 
 
 " Why, half-a-dozen of you had better take charge of 
 the house, and I will accompany the prisoners to Newgate, 
 the only place which is strong enough for such desperate 
 offenders." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 " Leave the body just as it is. Don't touch it yourselves, 
 or allow any one else to do so, until after the jury have 
 been to see it." 
 
 "All right, sir." 
 
 " And don't admit any one, on any pretext, until after 
 the inquest." 
 
 With these words, the officer made his way to the front 
 of the house. 
 
 Here were the three prisoners, completely at the mercy 
 of their captors. 
 
 Resistance upon their part had long since ceased. 
 
 "Call a hackney coach," cried the officer in command. 
 " You will find one on the rank by the church." 
 
 One of his men at once set out for the church, close to 
 the railings of wbich, as at the present day, hackney 
 coaches were always to be found waiting. 
 
 In a few minutes he returned with one of those lumber- 
 ing vehicles, so long a reproach to the streets of London. 
 
 They were, however, capable of holding more persons 
 than the present cab, so Jack Sheppard, Flood, and 
 Blewitt were pushed in, and three police-officers followed. 
 
 There were thirteen officers in all. 
 
 Six had been left in charge of the house. 
 
 Three had entered the coach. 
 
 One sat on the seat beside the driver. - 
 
 Three more upon the roof. 
 
 In this way, then, with a dense mob yelling at their 
 heels, Jack Sheppard and his companions were conveyed 
 to Newgate. 
 
 It was earl} dawn, and people generally were beginning 
 to be astir. 
 
 The streets, too, were partially light, so that as those 
 officers who were seated on the roof of the coach looked 
 I back, they could plainly perceive the crowd of people who 
 were thronging after them. 
 
 But though they could see them collectively, they could 
 not distinguish them individually. 
 
 As for Jack, he could not see them at all, nor did *u» 
 wisb to do so, but he could hear their yells and siii>£n* of 
 execration as they followed.
 
 BLUESKIN : A BOMANCE, 
 
 227 
 
 In the crowd was one man who, among the rest, was 
 unnoted. 
 
 He was tall, and muscularly formed. 
 
 But, by stooping, he strove, as much as possible, to dis- 
 guise this height and robustness of frame. 
 
 His desire, evidently, was to escape observation as amah 
 as possible. 
 
 But in this he was only to a partial extent successful. 
 
 Those whc were nearest to him could not help noticing 
 the peculiar appearance of his physiognomy. 
 
 It wore a strange dark tint. 
 
 But this man, whom the reader, from this description, 
 will doubtless recognise, did not stay long in one place, or 
 afford any of the curious gazers much opportunity of 
 studying his features, for he hurried on, forcing a way 
 through the thickest of the crowd. 
 
 This was Blueskin. 
 
 After leaving Steggs in the manner we have related, at 
 the public-house in the Borough, he had gone from one 
 place to another in search of Jack. 
 
 From reasons well known to the reader he did not suc- 
 ceed in bis search. 
 
 Wearied out and exhausted by all the multitudinous 
 events of the night, he was passing along Wych-street, 
 when he heard a great disturbance. 
 
 Any unusual circumstance, of course, attracted his im- 
 mediate attention. 
 
 Hurrying forward, then, he found a small crowd of 
 people assembled before a house. 
 
 He knew it at a glance. 
 
 It ww the house of John Roots, the carpenter. 
 
 With a forboding feeling at his heart that all was not 
 well, Blueskin paused and mingled with the crowd, which 
 every moment kept increasing. 
 
 What he saw while he waited, the reader already knows. 
 
 He heard, too, that murder had been committed. 
 
 When the three burglars had darted out of the house in 
 the manner we have described, he lent all the aid he could 
 to assist them to escape. 
 
 But, single-handed, he could do little or nothing against 
 6uch numbers, and he was fearful of being arrested with 
 them. 
 
 As things stood, it was clearly his best policy to keep 
 out of danger. 
 
 Immured in one of the cells in Newgate, what assistance 
 could he be to his young comrade ? 
 
 But free, he would doubtless be able to accomplish 
 much. 
 
 Therefore, when he saw them all three made prisoners, 
 he followed the coach, in order to see whether Jack 
 was really taken to Newgate, or to Jonathan Wild's 
 house. 
 
 CHAPTER CLVII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS DULY CONVEYED TO NEWGATE, AND 
 PROVIDED WITH AN EXTRA HEAVY SET OF JEWELRY. 
 
 The officers, however, who had taken Jack prisoner 
 were not Jonathan Wild's men, but regular Bow-street 
 runners. 
 
 They had been specially sent out to apprehend Jack 
 Sheppard for his daring escape from the prison. 
 
 Therefore, being armed with a special warrant, they 
 drove him to the Old Bailey direct, instead of taking 
 him to the lock-up, having him brought before a magis- 
 trate in the morning, and then fully committed for trial. 
 
 The hackney-coach lumbered up to the chief entrance 
 of the old prison-house, and the officer who sat by the 
 side of the driver got down and knocked at the portal. 
 
 The man on the lock, who was in a kind of half sleep, 
 had heard the carriage stop, and, anticipating from that 
 ihe arrival of some one of consequence, he quickly 
 responded to the summons for admission. 
 
 By the time the door was open, however, the officers 
 had got down off the roof and opened the door of the 
 coach. *tf 
 
 Then the others alighted. 
 
 The mob formed round in a dense cacfe, and they 
 pressed forward so much that it was found necessary to 
 obtain additional assistance from the prison to keep them 
 lit a respectful distance. 
 
 Then, one by one, the prisoners were handed out. 
 
 Blswitt happened to he nearest to the door, so he 
 came first. 
 
 He was dogged and sullen, and made not the least 
 attempt at resistance. 
 
 As a matter of course, his presence was greeted by a 
 yell of execration. 
 
 The distance from the coach door across the pavement 
 to the door leading into the prison was but short, so 
 ue was not exposed for long to the popular indignation. 
 
 He was hustled in. 
 
 Jack and Flood sat opposite to each other, so there was 
 little to choose who should come out first, but Jack hung 
 back. 
 
 _ It is possible that he had 6ome insane idea of making 
 his escape, for when Flood was dragged out, and while 
 he imagined the attention of the officers was occupied by 
 so doing, he looked through the window of the coach, next 
 to which he sat. 
 
 But, if he had any idea of making his escape, it vanished 
 when he saw how completely he was hemmed in by hostile 
 faces. 
 
 He uttered, however, a slight exclamation, though he 
 stifled the sound as much as be possibly could. 
 
 Amone the crowd of faces he saw one that had not an 
 unfriendly expression upon it. 
 
 It was a face well known to him. 
 
 He was evidently there to bid him be of good cheer. 
 
 It was Blueskin s face. 
 
 The next moment, however, he was seized by the 
 officers and dragged out. 
 
 His ankles had been tied together with a cord, but, in 
 order that he should be able to walk into the prison, these 
 bonds were severed. 
 
 The moment Jack found these limbs at liberty, the first 
 use he made of them was to salute his captors with several 
 hearty kicks, each one of which drew loud curses from their 
 lips. 
 
 But there were too many of them for him to gain much 
 by resistance. 
 
 By main force he was dragged out and hurried into the 
 lodge, where a dozen or so of turnkeys had assembled, and 
 where Flood and Blewitt still stood. 
 
 The moment he was fairly in, the ponderous door was 
 closed after him with a clang, at once shutting the world 
 out from him. 
 
 The first thing that attracted Jack's attention after his 
 arrival, was a slight bustle and confusion at the other end 
 of the lodge. 
 
 He was well enough acquainted with the interior of 
 Newgate already to know what it meant. 
 
 The governor was coming. 
 
 His old enemy, Mr. Noakes. 
 
 Excited and out of breath, for, upon receiving the intel- 
 ligence that Jack had been recaptured, he had jumped 
 , out of bed, hastily attired himself, and hurried down to 
 ■ the lodge. 
 
 "Ha! ha!" he said, with an air of triumphant satis- 
 faction, the moment he perceived Jack, and was convinced 
 by ocular demonstration that the agreeable intelligence 
 which had been brought to him was true. " Ha ! ha ! my 
 young spark, so we have got you safe back again, have 
 we ! Well — well, I thought so. It was very unwise of 
 you to escape ; you might have known you would be taken 
 again. You won't get away this time, I'll take good care 
 of that. There's Godfrey, the turnkey, that you murdered 
 in the corridor. You will have that to be tried for." 
 
 " But he has committed another murder since that, 
 Mr. Noakes," said the chief police-officer. 
 
 " Another murder ! " cried the governor, starting back 
 a step. " How ? where ? " 
 
 " He has committed a burglary as well, and these two 
 men, who belong to Jonathan Wild, assisted him." 
 
 " But who has he robbed ? — who has he murdered ? " 
 asked the governor. 
 
 " His old master, John Roots, the carpenter, in Wych- 
 street." 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " I have left six of the men there in charge of the 
 premises, to watch that nothing is touched." 
 
 " Quite right, Mr. Skellum — quite right." 
 He will have to be brought before a magistrate in the 
 sourse of the morning, I suppose ? " 
 -" Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Then I must be in attendance to give my evidence, 
 which, of course, will procure the committal of all three 
 of them to the assize?,"
 
 " They won't have loDg to wait, then.' 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 "The sessions begin the day after to-morrow. You 
 had better stay with me, Mr. SkeJluru. What's the 
 time?" 
 
 " About a quarter to five, sir." 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! Very well, then it will be about five hours 
 before we want to start to Bow-street. We mnst take 
 care to make them secure for that time. Come with me, 
 Mr. Skellum, and after tbat we can breakfast together. 
 
 The governor was wonderfully condescensive. 
 
 But there was a reason for it. 
 
 He was curious to learn the particulars of Jack's appre- 
 hension. 
 
 Mr. Skellum looked pleased. 
 
 The governor was always rather chuffy with tfoe officials 
 under him. 
 
 Indeed, in more respects than one, he resembled his 
 great prototype, Jonathan Wild, with whom it will be 
 recollected he was upon tolerably good terms. 
 
 Consequently, Mr. Skellum felt much flattered at having 
 this amount of condescension shown him. 
 
 "Groots!" cried Mr. Noakes. "Groots! Where's 
 Groots ? " 
 
 " Coming, sir," replied a voice, and directly afterwards 
 a man appeared, who looked as though he had been rather 
 hastily aroused from a deep slumber. 
 
 " Get ready three sets of irons — the heaviest you can 
 find, and be quick about it." 
 
 Groots, who at that time was the smith employed to 
 rivet the fetters on the limbs of the prisoners, disappeared. 
 
 Two turnkeys followed him. 
 
 Immediately afterwards they returned, dragging 
 behind them a mass of iron, which raised a thousand 
 lugubrious echoes in its passage over the stones in the 
 corridor. 
 
 They were left in a confused heap, just between the 
 governor and the prisoners. 
 
 " Are they all the same weight," asked the former, as 
 the smith began separating them into three heap*. 
 
 " No, sir ; they isn't." 
 
 " Which are the heaviest ? " 
 
 " Tbese, sir," replied Groots, pointing to one lot. " The 
 others be main heavy, but this set is heavier by a good 
 bit." 
 
 So much the better," replied Mr. Noakes ; "you will 
 put them on this young spark. It isn't the first time you 
 have done a similar job for him, and see that you do it 
 better than the last." 
 
 The smith, hearing these words, looked up. 
 
 Upon seeing Jack, he knew him instantly. 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I recollect," he said. " Well, if he gets 
 out of these, I'm a Dutchman." 
 
 Jack smiled contemptuously. 
 
 Of this Mr. Groots took no sort of notice, but, as soon 
 as his little preparations were completed, set about riveting 
 the irons upon him. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had sufficient good sense not to exhaust 
 himself in struggling uselessly against superior numbers, 
 so ho quietly submitted to the irons being placed upon 
 him. 
 
 Flood and Blewitt seemed to take their cue from him, 
 for they behaved in a precisely similar manner. 
 
 So far all being well, the governor proceeded to accom- 
 pany them to the dungeons. 
 
 And here let us take the opportunity of reminding the 
 reader that a cell in Newgate in Jack Sheppard's day was 
 a very different thing to what it is now. 
 
 The prison itself, even, has been wholly rebuilt, and the 
 only traces of the ancient edifice which now exist, are 
 those buried beneath the present Newgate-market. 
 
 The cells now are uniformly clean, well-ventilatad. t»i 
 light. 
 
 Then they were devoid of all these comforts. 
 
 It was considered that the strongest cells were those 
 deepest down in the prison, and it was towards these that 
 the prisoners were led. 
 
 Doors innumerable, and corridors without end, were 
 passed throug h. Staircases were ascended and descended. 
 
 But, on the whole, the downward staircases preponde- 
 rated. 
 
 A. very strong escort of turnkeys and officers accom- 
 panied them, and, both before and behind, tbe narrow 
 passages were filled up with their bodies, so that, had they 
 
 been free from the heavy manacles, they could not have 
 had the least prospect of escape. 
 
 T be three prisoners were placed in three different cells, 
 and there secured. 
 
 It seemed almost foolish to take so much trouble, when 
 their sojourn would be so short, but they knew the slippery 
 customers they had to deal with, and, therefore, did not 
 abate any precautions. 
 
 The governor, at any rate, was determined that the 
 fault should not be laid to him if they got free. 
 
 Having eeen all secure, he posted a sentinel before the 
 door of each cell. 
 
 Then he returned to his own portion of the prison, to 
 properly dr<3ss himself, and partake of the breakfast which 
 he had invited Mr. Skellum to share with him. 
 
 This was done, and, during the discussion of the meal, 
 as we have hinted, he managed to extract from the police- 
 officer a veiy ample account of the whole of the circum- 
 stances attendant upon Jack Sheppard's apprehension. 
 
 " He will swing, said the governor, triumphantly. " I 
 am sure of it. And a good job, too ; for, as you know, 
 Mr. Skellum, I have got into no end of disgrace through 
 his getting away the time before." 
 
 CHAPTER CLVIII. 
 
 THE MAGISTRATE AT THE BOW-STREET POLICE-COURT 
 DULY COMMITS JACK SHEPPARD, MATTHEW FLOOD, AND 
 WILLIAM BLEWITT TO TAKE THEIR TRIAL AT THE 
 ENSUING SESSIONS FOR BURGLARY AND MURDER. 
 
 No doubt the reader can easily believe that the reflections 
 of Jack Sheppard himself, in his cold and cheerless 
 dungeon, were of anything but a pleasant description. 
 
 In the bitterness of his heart, he over and over again 
 cursed himself for having listened to the proposals of the 
 two men to commit a burglary at John Roots'. Over and 
 over again did he curse them for acting in the manner 
 they did, and causing him to be apprehended and lodged 
 in prison. 
 
 So short a time, too, had elapsed since he had succeeded 
 in effecting his last escape, and during that time he had 
 positively done nothing. 
 
 The whereabouts of Edgworth Bess, and whether she 
 was still alive, were things he knew not, and had failed to 
 ascertain. 
 
 That, if alive, she was detained somewhere against her 
 cwn inclination, he felt confident, or, long ere this, she 
 would have found some means of communicating with 
 him. 
 
 There was every reason, now, that he should be free and 
 unshackled, to ascertain her whereabouts; for it had 
 become tbe master-passion of his soul to see tbe poor per 
 secuted heiress triumph over her enemies, and be placed 
 in possession of her inalienable rights. 
 
 When that was done, he felt that he could resign him- 
 self to the tender mercies of that evil fortune which 
 seemed to have beset him, but not till then. 
 
 One ray of consolation, however, found its way into his 
 otherwise darkened 60ul. 
 
 Blueskin was free. 
 
 He bad seen him. 
 
 By some means which he had yet to learn, he had been 
 successful in getting out of Jonathan Wild's clutches. 
 
 He had, then, one powerful friend at liberty, who would 
 use his whole exertions not only to freeing him, but also in 
 finding Edgworth Bess. 
 
 From him he felt there was everything to hope. 
 
 So iit will be seen that, desperate as his condition ap- 
 peared to be, he did not despair. 
 
 But he made no attempt to get free from his bonds. 
 
 That, he was well aware, would be the work of many 
 hours, and in a little while he would be visited. 
 
 There was one thing, however, that Jack did not know, 
 but which, if ho had, would have given him greater un- 
 easiness than anything else. 
 
 Iii his dying moments — with his last breath, so to 
 speak — surrounded by those who were ready to swear t« 
 his words, John Roots had solemnly declared that Jack 
 Sheppard was his murderer. 
 
 Being in full possession of all the facts of the case, we 
 know very well that he was not guilty of this crime, 
 though John Roots undoubtedly laboured under the idea 
 that he was, and had spoken in accordance with that oca* 
 ▼iction.
 
 BLUESKIK: A KOMANCJS. 
 
 229 
 
 But, when all other things are reckoned, all will see how 
 damaging and destructive this statement would he to him. 
 
 By what means would he be able to prove his innocence ? 
 
 Who would believe his most solemn asseverations ? 
 
 No one. 
 
 Of this great peril he was, however, ignorant, and p?-. 
 haps it was as well he was so — he was wretches' "*<iough 
 already. 
 
 The five hours he had to wait passed laggingly enough 
 in these gloomy meditations. 
 
 He was aroused from them at length, however, by 
 hearing his cell door unlocked. 
 
 The governor and Mr. Skellum, accompanied by a p>>sse 
 of constables, entered. 
 
 In much the same fashion as they had been brought 
 there, all three of the housebreakers were marched back 
 to the lodge. 
 
 On reaching this place, the services of Mr. Groota were 
 again called into requisition. 
 
 The irons which he had been at so much pains to rivet 
 on were struck off. 
 
 A couple of hackney coaches were then called. 
 
 Jack and his two comrades, with three police-officers, 
 were stowed in one. 
 
 The governor and Mr. Skellum in the other. 
 
 It was in this manner, then, that Jack was taken to 
 Bow-street, in order to have his examination before a 
 magistrate. 
 
 He, as well as Flood and Blewitt, were securely hand- 
 cuffed. 
 
 Jack was on the watch to take advantage of any little 
 circumstance that might occur of a character that would 
 tend to favour his escape, but none occurred, and his 
 janitors were too much on the alert for him to make the 
 least effof" & save himself. 
 
 And so * $ court was reached. 
 
 It was vury soon after ten when they arrived. Several 
 little cases were on, and several more had to follow. 
 
 Jack and his two companions had to wait till the last. 
 
 Flood and Blewitt were taken in first. 
 
 Mr. Skellum stated the case to the magistrate he * ?ery 
 few words. 
 
 The depositions were then taken. 
 
 The prisoners, who refused to say a word of any kind, 
 were duly committed to take their trial at the nest assizes, 
 which would commence on the morrow. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had been kept separate, because there 
 was a charge of a distinct and different nature to be 
 brought against him. 
 
 As soon as Flood and Blewitt were removed, Jack was 
 placed at the bar. 
 
 He did not glance around him at the crowd of idlers 
 who thronged the court, but fixed his eyes upon the 
 magistrate. 
 
 The clerk of the court, taen, from a printed form, read 
 over, in a mumbling voice, the charge against him. 
 
 The first witness who appeared in the box was Mr. 
 Noakes, the governor, as the first count against Jack was 
 his having broken out of prison. 
 
 He swore, of course, in the most positive manner as to 
 his identity, and, at the same time, related all those events 
 with which the reader is familiar, including, also, the death 
 of the turnkey, Godfrey, who had been killed in con- 
 sequence of Jack causing him to fall down a flight of 
 stone steps. 
 
 Mr. Skellum next took his place. 
 
 In a clear and breviloquent manner he gave the magis- 
 trate a full relation of all the occurrences of the preceding 
 night. 
 
 Among the rest was, of course, the dying declaration of 
 John Roots. 
 
 At this intimation, coming so abruptly and unexpectedly 
 as it did, Jack changed countenance. 
 
 He knew, of course, his perfect innocence of the crime 
 thus imputed to him, and he was about to utter an indig- 
 nant denial, but a second thought made him silent. 
 
 In it, however, he fancied he could trace the spirit cf 
 his master's malevolence towards him, but whether he was 
 right or not in this is hard to tell. In all probability, John 
 Roots believed that it was Jack who shot him. 
 
 The case, of course, excited the utmost attention, and 
 lack found himself the 
 
 Observed of all observers. 
 
 Tho clerk of the court took down Mr. Skellum'e ctite- 
 
 ment in full, and, when this was done, two of the officers 
 were called to give corroborative evidence. 
 
 This they did in a remarkably clear manner. 
 
 There was not in the crowded court one person who did 
 not believe Jack guilty of the heinous crime of which he 
 was accused. 
 
 After this, the usual question was put to the prisoner as 
 to whether he had anything to say, or any questions to 
 ask. 
 
 But Jack shook his head, and was silent. 
 
 He knew quite well that nothing he could say would 
 tend in any way to dissipate his guilt, and perhaps his 
 words would be construed in such a manner as to make 
 him appear still worse. 
 
 Therefore he was wisely silent. 
 
 The magistrate took upon himself to make several 
 remarks upon the case, and concluded by committing Jack 
 to Newgate, as he had the other two. 
 
 He was then removed from the dock, but, as he 
 descended, his eyes fell upon the countenance of one man, 
 who stood near the door of the court. 
 
 It was lighted up with a demoniac smile of triumph 
 and gratified revenge. 
 
 The face was one awful in the extreme to look upon. 
 
 The skin was black and scorched. 
 
 The hawr singed. 
 
 The eyes bloodshot. 
 
 He nodded his head at Jack in a particularly disagree- 
 able manner. 
 
 Jack knew him. 
 
 It was impossible for any one having once looked into 
 that hideous physiognomy, to mistake it. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Jack had only a moment to glance at him, however. 
 
 But on his way from the dock to the door of the court, 
 Jack noticed another face. 
 
 It was one which he fancied he had seen somewhere or 
 other, but he could not recollect where. 
 
 He, too, nodded his head to him, but in a manner 
 expressive of friendly feeling towards him. 
 
 Jack nodded in return, and then the door was closed 
 behind him. 
 
 Once more was he securely pinioned, and led to tho 
 hackney-coach, which was waiting before the door of the 
 court, and in which Flood and Blewitt were already 
 seated. 
 
 In very much tne same manner as he had been brought 
 there, Jack was taken back to Newgate. 
 
 His reflections were of a peculiarly bitter turn, but, 
 notwithstanding that, he had his eyes open to everything 
 that was occurring around him, and in readiness to tako 
 advantage of anything he might see likely to serve him. 
 
 But there was none. 
 
 The fact of his having performed the unparalleled and 
 hitherto disbelieved feat of breaking out of Newgate, 
 caused them to be more than ordinarily watchful of him. 
 
 What would Edgworth Bess think, should she hear of 
 what had taken place ? 
 
 He felt that he should be for ever ruined in her estima- 
 tion. 
 
 He felt his anger rise when his eye fell upon the twc 
 men who had been the chief means of bringing this 
 trouble upon him. 
 
 Then he thought of Jonathan Wild, and a deep curse 
 came from his lips, as he remembered that he was the 
 primary cause of all the troublo he had known. 
 
 CHAPTER CLIX. 
 
 BLUESK1N AND STEGGS MATUBE THEIR PLANS AGAINST 
 WILD. 
 
 As Jack will be tolerably safe in Newgate for some time 
 to come, we feel that we can leave him there for a time, 
 and turn our attention to other personages in this eventful 
 drama. 
 
 We have already hinted that Blueskin, after he parted 
 with Steggs in the manner related in a former chapter, 
 searched long and unsuccessfully for some trace ot hw 
 young friend, Jack Sheppard. 
 
 In the manner he was dressed he felt pretty sure he 
 should escape notice, unless, indeed, he was to come face 
 to face with his old master, Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Then, indeed, his position would be a dangerous one j
 
 ;0 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 out that was a remote contingency, and one that he would 
 have to take care to guard against. 
 
 As a last hope, and not without considerable apprehen- 
 sion h« had ventured into the " Black Lion." 
 
 It may, perhaps, be as well to state that, previous to 
 this, he bad been to the " Fountain," in Gilbert-passage, 
 and there learned that Jack had called and inquired for 
 him. . 
 
 The landlord also imparted the additional intelligence 
 that he had brought two more men with him, who, from 
 the description given, Blueskin recognised at once. 
 
 From Johnson, at the " Black Lion," however, he got 
 no information whatever. 
 
 Then, upon going down Wych-street in the direction of 
 the Borough, for day was close at hand, he had seen the 
 crowd in front of John Roots' house. 
 
 What took place from that time to when he looked into 
 the window of the coach as it stopped opposite Newgate, 
 we already know. 
 
 Blueskin's principal motive in following the coach, was 
 to see whether Jack was really taken to the prison or to 
 Jonathan Wild's house, and he could not help experiencing 
 a certain amount of satisfaction when he found it was not 
 the la.tt©f. 
 
 He was also desirous of letting Jack know that he was 
 safe, and that bis present whereabouts was known to him. 
 
 He imagined Jack would gather this much by the 
 expression of his countenance. 
 
 He lingered until the ponderous lodge-door of the prison 
 wa3 closed, and then, without further delay, he separated 
 himself from the throng of people. 
 
 But he had been observed by several, and, iu order to 
 avoid them, he hailed a hackney-coach which was passing 
 by the top of the street and got into it, giving orders to 
 be driven to the Borough. 
 
 By the time he reached this place it was broad daylight, 
 and people began to make their appearance in the deserted 
 thoroughfares. 
 
 The public-house was closed, and, uot wishing to dis- 
 turb the inhabitants, be made his way to the stables 
 attached to it. 
 
 Here he found persons moving about, and, upon stating 
 who he was, they permitted him to lie down on some hay 
 in the loft. 
 
 He had not been long in this place before he fell fast 
 asleep, nor did he awake until nearly nine o'clock. 
 
 Hastily descending the ladder, he crossed the yard and 
 entered the house, the usual daily business of which had 
 commenced. . 
 
 Upon inquiry, he soon fouud his new friend Steggs. 
 
 A wonderful change bad taken place in his appearance, 
 more than one would believe could have been effected in 
 so short a period. 
 
 In answer to his eager questions for intelligence, 
 Blueskin told him all he knew. 
 
 "Come with me," he added, as he concluded. "He 
 will certainly be taken before the magistrate this morning, 
 in order to be committed to take his trial." 
 
 " It will be a case with him this time, I am afraid." 
 
 " Tbiugs look black, but still fliey may improve. Now, 
 I should attend the examination myself, only I am afraid 
 of being recognised. You would not run so much risk, 
 because you are not so well known as I am." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " 1 want to know at once what takes place, because my 
 future operations will greatly depend upon it" 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " I will go with you to the court, and wait somewhers 
 for you while you are inside. Take particular notice of all 
 that is sa id and done." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " That is agreed, then. Let us start at once." 
 
 " But Jonathan Wild P " 
 
 "What of him?" 
 
 " Do you think he will be there P " 
 
 " I know not. I fancy, very hkely he will, and yet I 
 don't know. I could not hear anything of him while I 
 was inquiring." 
 
 " Do you think he would recognise me r 
 
 " No. I am sure he would not ; yon hare so greatly 
 altered, I should never have known you had it not been 
 for your voice." 
 
 " I see, and Jonathan has no need to hear that." 
 
 " None at all ; and, even supposing you are there, he 
 will hardly notice you among the crowd. 
 
 " You have not forgotten the scheme I proposed to 
 you P " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " I shall have to be very careful." 
 
 " You will, but we must defer talking about that until 
 after we learn the result of the examination." 
 
 " I think I could find a disguise that would answer the 
 purpose." 
 
 " I have no doubt you could, but then you never know 
 what may riappen, and I want to be quite sure. Would 
 that I could discover some trace of Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " You have still been unsuccessful ? " 
 
 " Quite. I cannot find any one who can give me any 
 information respecting her." 
 
 "Then we must wait with patience, and see what the 
 current of events will turn up. ' 
 
 " I cannot tell what more we can do, but come, if we 
 do not start at once we shall be too late, for the court 
 opens at ten." 
 
 " I am ready," said Steggs. " Which will be our best 
 way ? " 
 
 " By water will be the quickest and nearest." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 The pair sallied out from the inn, and quickly reached 
 the river side, where they hired a boat to take them to tho 
 Savoy-steps. 
 
 At that period, of course, the river steamboats were 
 unknown, and the journey was performed by light boats, 
 or wherries as they were called, which were rowed by one 
 num. 
 
 Nothing occurred during their transit from one bank 
 of the river to the other deserving of particular notice. 
 
 The Savoy-steps were reached in a short time, for the 
 tide was in their favour. 
 
 Landing, they made their way with all speed to Bow- 
 street. • 
 
 Upon arriving here, however, they found that tho court 
 had been open some time. 
 
 Blueskin, pursuant to an arrangement between them, 
 stopped at a coffee-house in Russell-street, while Steggs 
 went alone into the court-house. 
 
 He was allowed to pass unquestioned, and by degrees 
 wormed himself into the densest part of the throng. 
 
 Here he watched and waited. 
 
 Presently, however, as his eyes were turned towards tho 
 door, he saw that person enter whose presence he above 
 all things wished to shun. 
 
 Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Steggs did not, however, let his eyes rest upon him for 
 a moment, lest the thief-taker should perceive him. 
 
 Ho stood in such a manner that his back was turned 
 towards him. 
 
 Our readers must recollect that, though Steggs had to 
 all appearance repented of the past, and turned the friend 
 of those whom he had before assisted to persecute, yet he 
 bad a deep grudge against Jack Sheppard. 
 
 There are some natures so constituted that they can 
 never forget or forgive an insult or an injury, and Steggs 
 was one of these. 
 
 At first, therefore, when Jack was placed in the dock, 
 be recollected the defeat he had met with at his hands, 
 and he rejoiced at the peril of his situation. 
 
 But it was only for a few moments that he gave way to 
 this feeling. 
 
 He stifled it. 
 
 With the greatest attention he listened to every word. 
 
 He involuntarily shook his bead, as the details were one 
 by one laid bare. 
 
 It was Steggs who had nodded in a friendly manner to 
 Jack, as he was leaving the dock. 
 
 Then Jack, although he had only a confused recollection 
 of his face, nodded again. 
 
 Steggs turned away instantly, and it was well he did so, 
 for Jonathan Wild had observed the movement, and 
 looked ^und like lightning to see what friend of Jack's 
 was present. 
 
 He was unsuccessful, however, for Steggs had the back 
 of his head towards him. 
 
 But he had another means of detection left. 
 
 Nothing would have pleased him better than to have 
 made his way to the room in whioh Jack Sheppard was, 
 but he controlled his inclination.
 
 BLUESKIN •" A .ROMANCE. 
 
 2*1 
 
 He wanted to know most who had nodded to him. 
 
 Planting himself, then, against the doorway, h* nar- 
 rowly scrutinized everyone as they went out. 
 
 .Taok's examination conoluded the day's business, so all 
 made a move to leave the court. 
 
 Steggs was not long beforo he perceived his enemy's 
 manoeuvre. 
 
 He felt himself in a very awkward position. 
 
 To hold back, however, would only be to msure de- 
 tection. 
 
 Perhaps, if he went with the stream, he would b* un- 
 noticed. . 
 
 He fairly trembled, however, when he saw Wilds 
 bloodshot eyes glaring around, and there were many 
 others who were as uneasy as himself. 
 
 But for once chance favoured him. 
 
 He had taken care to place himself in the densest part 
 of the crowd, and a considerable crush took place at the 
 door. 
 
 In this crush Steggs dropped his hat. 
 
 It was done quite unintentionally, but he immediately 
 availed himself of the incident. 
 
 He stooped down to pick it up, and, while doing so, 
 managed to pass through the door. 
 
 He was unnoticed. 
 
 Once outside, be ran as fast as he could to the coffee- 
 house, where he had agreed to meet Blueskin. 
 
 Then, having made him acquainted with all particulars, 
 the two sat down and deliberated upon the scheme which 
 Steggs had proposed, and the result of which w?.s to be 
 the total destruction of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 CHAPTER CLX. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR OF NEWGATE IMPARTS A PLEASANT PIECE 
 OF INFORMATION TO JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Time, the uufolder of all mysteries, will spoedily reveal 
 not only the nature of the plot against the thiei-taker, but 
 also the amount of success with which it in crowned. 
 
 Leaving, therefore, Blueskin and Steggs to arrange its 
 minor details, we will go back a little. 
 
 After the destruction of " The Larches," Jonathan Wild 
 had Edgworth Bess conveyed in a coach to Dover. 
 
 He stopped at a small but respectable inn, where the 
 still insensible girl was placed in bed, and medical assist- 
 ance immediately sent for. 
 
 An examination showed that although she had been 
 scorched in many places, the burns were nearly all of a 
 superficial, and none of a dangerous character. 
 
 Jonathan received the intelligence with much satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 He was in dread that after all his trouble he should 
 lose her, and all his carefully-constructed plans would then 
 be destroyed. 
 
 By his orders, the landlady of the bouse procured for 
 Edgworth Bess a complete change of raiment, for those 
 she bad on were little better than tinder. 
 
 Jonathan himse.f, from the numberless wounds and 
 burns be bad received, stood greatly in need of medical 
 treatment, but be disdained the idea altogether. 
 Besides be could not spare the time. 
 No sooner was he aware of Bess's safety, than leaving 
 the inn, he hastened back to the burning ruins. 
 
 But the fire had reached its culminating point, when 
 
 the roof fell in, and that in a great measure extinguished it. 
 
 All that now remained was a huge smouldering heap — 
 
 in some places glowing red, in others emitting a dense 
 
 black and suffocating smoke. 
 
 There was nothing to be gained by standing there and 
 watching, Wild thought, so he called to his men to follow 
 him away. 
 
 Little did he think how large an amount of booty he 
 would have gained had he taken the trouble to silt the 
 ashes. 
 
 The greater portion of bis band was with him, bu v 
 there were others in the cavern below, to which Wild 
 directed those men who had lauded to lead hint 
 It was reached in a very short time afterwards. 
 The de&trurt'on of tho pirate band had been complete 
 Upon issuing *i a order that all the dead should bo 
 tail upon the ground, an j the wounded led out a.* pri- 
 soners, only five wretched-looking objects could be tound. 
 They were all whe remained of the much-dreaded pirate 
 baud. 
 
 These Jonathan had securely bound, placed in the 
 boats, and rowed ashore. 
 
 His own men were all terribly fatigued, and many of 
 them had received hurts of such a character as precluded 
 their immediate removal from where they were. 
 
 Jonathan himself, however, determined not to stay, and i 
 accordingly as soon as he had made those arrangements 
 which he could not avoid staying to do, he ordered a 
 carriage, and set out for London, taking Edgworth Bess 
 with him. 
 
 The poor girl was hardly in a fit state to be removed, 
 but Jonathan did not feel safe with her unless she was 
 within his own house in Newgate-street. 
 
 The doctor, however, had told him that no particular 
 harm would result from the journey, but advised him not 
 to take it unless circumstances made it imperative. 
 
 This was enough for Wild to set off without delay. 
 
 How he reached Newgate-street we have already seen. 
 
 "Tonks!" he cried, as soon as that individual had 
 closed the door behind him. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild ! " 
 
 " Send some one for Mr. Snoxall at once." 
 
 " Yes, sir ! " 
 
 " And when he comes, let him wait for me." 
 
 Still holding Bess in his arms, who had been in a 
 strange death-like trance during the whole of the journey, 
 and which may be attributed to fright and exhaustion, 
 Jonathan crossed the hall, and though the effort was almost 
 beyond his strength, carried her up two flights of stairs. 
 
 Then, pushing open a door which was only partially 
 closed, he entered a room which the dim and ghostlike 
 light of early morning, as it struggled through the 
 window, showed to be furnished as a bed-chamber. 
 
 As carefully as possible, Jonathan laid the poor heiress 
 upon the bed. 
 
 He felt his heart sicken with dread aa he gazed upon 
 her pallid countenance, which seemed like that of a corpse. 
 
 Should she die, farewell to the daring, ambitious dream 
 with which he had indulged his fancy. 
 
 His policy now was to take as much pains as he could 
 to keep her alive. 
 
 When he had attained his ends, when the broad acres 
 which owned the Donmulls as their owners were fairly his, 
 shj could die as soon as she pleased. 
 
 He should never trouble himself about her then. 
 
 Feeling that he could do nothing, and anxious for the 
 arrival of the apothecary, who has already more than once 
 made his appearance before the reader, Jonathan left Che 
 room, carefully locking the door after him. 
 
 He descended the stairs, and entered his office. 
 
 Upon the desk were a number of communications, but 
 none of them of particular importance, or connected with 
 this history. 
 
 In about a quarter of an hour, Mr. Snoxall arrived. 
 
 Without any circumlocution, Jonathan led him up into 
 the bedroom. 
 
 " I leave this young girl in your care," he said ; " recover 
 her." 
 
 Mr. Snoxall felt ber pulse. 
 
 Then shook his head. 
 
 The action increased Jonathan's alarm. 
 
 " She is v. ry bad," remarked the chemist. 
 
 " Restore her to health," said the thief-taker, "and you 
 shall have a hundred guineas for your pains ; nay, two 
 hundred if you wil' do it quickly." 
 
 " I will try my best," replied Mr. Snoxall. " She is in 
 a very precarious stale, and rest and medicine are abso- 
 lutely necessary. Above all," bo added, "there must be 
 meutal quietude, or what I do will be of slight avail." 
 
 " I leave ber with you," said Jonathan. "Remember 
 your reward." 
 
 With these words on his lips, he turned on his heel, and 
 departed. 
 
 Scarcely, however, bad he reached the ground floor of 
 his abode, than he heard a loud summons tor admitrance. 
 
 Wondering who it could be, at that early hour, he stood 
 where he was, and waited. 
 
 " Where's Air. Wild ? " asked a voice, which Jonatha 
 immediately recouuised. 
 
 It was that of Mr. Noakes, the governor of Newpato. n 
 
 " Come in, sir," said Tonks, " he will bo down directly. 
 
 " I am here," said Wild, as he stepped forward. 
 
 " Ah ! " exclaimed the governor, " I b-w« important ^ 
 news for you."
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 " Private P" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 M Come up stairs, then, into my room." 
 
 Jonathan led the way to his sitting-room CD the first 
 floor. 
 
 The governor kept close at his heels. 
 _ " Now," said Wild, as he seated himself, and made a 
 sign with his hand for his visitor to do the same, " what is 
 the news ? " 
 
 " Do you remember one Jack Sheppard ? " 
 
 " Remember P Curse him." 
 
 " Exactly. I see you do remember." 
 
 " What of him ? " asked the thief-taker, full of interest. 
 
 " You brought him in a prisoner once." 
 
 " And you were fool enough to let him free." 
 
 "Now, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " You are too violent." 
 
 "Have you really got any uewa about that devil's 
 brat ? " 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Of course I have." 
 
 " Then let me hear it." 
 
 " 1 came in with that intention, but really, dear sir, you 
 are too violent — sadly too violent." 
 
 " Curse you, go on." 
 
 " Last night" ■■■ 
 
 "Well, well!" 
 
 " Or, rather, I ought to say this morning, he and two 
 of your men committed a murder and robbery ! " 
 
 Jonathan sprang to his feet. 
 
 " Two of my men ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Which two?" 
 
 " Flood is one." 
 
 "The villain!" 
 
 "And Blewitt the other." 
 
 " I begin to see all now." 
 
 "All what, Mr. Wild?" 
 
 " Never mind ! They committed a robbery, you say ?" 
 
 " And a murder ? " 
 
 " And a murder." 
 
 i! But who — where ? " 
 
 " The man they have robbed and murdered is no other 
 than John Roots, the carpenter, of Wych-street ! ' 
 
 " The devil ! And what next ? " 
 
 " My men were on the spot looking out for him, as they 
 have been ever since he escaped." 
 
 "And" 
 
 " And all three were captured." 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" 
 
 "All three." 
 
 " Captured ! " repeated Wild, who was wound up to 
 the highest pitch of excitement by what he beard. " Cap- 
 tured, Jack Sheppard captured ? Impossible ! " 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " It seems so." 
 
 " That may be, but at this present moment he is in the 
 strongest cell in Newgate, and I will stake my life he will 
 never get out of it." 
 
 "Keep him secure," said Wild, as soon as he had 
 realized the intelligence which had just been communi- 
 cated to him. "Keep him secure, and you shall be 
 rewarded for it. He shall hang! He shall hang! I 
 have sworn it ! " 
 
 " Very good," said the governor, " I'll be off. He will 
 be brought before the magistrate at Bow-street at ten 
 o'clock. I suppose you will be there ? " 
 
 CHAPTER CLXI. 
 
 STEGGS, DISGUISED, SEEKS AN AUDIENCE WITH JONAfKAN 
 WILD, AND ENDEAVOURS TO OBTAIN EMPLOYMENT 
 FROM HIM. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, as soon as the governor had departed, 
 allowed his hideous visage to expand into a smile, while 
 in his disagreeable fashion, he rubbed his huge omoke* 
 begrimed hands together. 
 
 Then he chuckled. 
 
 Truly, things looked well with him. 
 
 Surely he was the favourite of Fortune. 
 
 ▲little while back, and all he got for his pains was defeat. 
 
 Now the reaction had come. 
 
 Success attended all his efforts. 
 
 The pirate band was destroyed. 
 
 The personal hatred which he had against C»)Kmel 
 Thorne was quenched in death. 
 
 The same moment, too, that had given him the ?"«tory 
 over these desperadoes, had placed Edgworth Besc in his 
 power. 
 
 Then, as if that was not enough, no sooner had be 
 returned than the intelligence was brought to him that 
 Jack Sheppard and the two men who had been false to 
 their trust had been captured. 
 
 All would be well now, he thought, and visions of the 
 future rose up before him. 
 
 But Jonathan ought to have been wiser than to allow 
 himself to be blinded by his success. 
 
 He ought to have doubted. 
 
 He ought to have been distrustful. 
 
 He ought to have asked himself the question whether 
 his present good fortune had not been awarded to him 
 merely for the reason that when the sum of his triumph 
 and wickedness was reached, hia fall should be all the 
 greater. 
 
 All the more fearful. 
 
 But, as we have said, he was blind to all this, and thus 
 run upon his own destruction. 
 
 How he repaired to the police-court, and what he did 
 there, is already known. 
 
 From that place he went to the Secretary of State, in 
 order to inform him of the success which he had met with 
 in his attack upon the pirates, and to lay claim to the 
 rewards. 
 
 This gratifying little piece of business over, Jonathan 
 repaired to his own dwelling. 
 
 He was anxious, in the first place, to know the condition 
 of Edgworth Bess, and, in the second, he had been absent 
 from his ordinary duties rather longer than he liked. 
 
 From Mr. Snoxall he received the gratifying assurance 
 that the poor prisoner was better, though very weak. 
 
 With a lightened heart, he sat down in his office to 
 attend to his usual work, which was that of calculating 
 the value of the stolen goods received by his agents, and 
 endeavouring, for a consideration, to effect a restoration 
 of them to their owners. 
 
 While he was thus engaged, two men came quietly 
 down Newgate-street from the direction of St. Martin'3- 
 le-Grand. 
 
 They were talking earnestly together, in a very low 
 tone of voice. 
 
 At length, upon neaping Jonathan's residence, they 
 separated. 
 
 One returned by the way he bad come. 
 
 The other ascended the little flight of steps in front 
 of the thief-taker's door, and, raising the knocker, gave a 
 faint summons for admission. 
 
 The door was flung open. 
 
 The man on the step cringed down in an attitude of 
 extreme humbleness. 
 
 " What do you want ? " 
 
 " Mr. Wild, if you please. Mr. JonatLan Wild. Oh ! 
 dear, I want to see him on very particular business. Oh ! 
 dear." 
 
 " What do you mean by ' oh ! dear.' Come in." 
 
 " It's when I think. Oh ! dear. Did you say come 
 in?" 
 
 " Yes, if you want to see him." 
 
 " Thanks, good sir. Oh ! dear. Many thanks." 
 
 The man crossed the threshold of Wild's house, and 
 stood in the passage. 
 
 Wilkinson, for it was he who had answered the door, at 
 onco informed the thief-taker of the arrival of the strange 
 visitor 
 
 " Send him in." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Accordingly this strange humble sort of being was 
 ushered into the sanctum. 
 
 Jonathan was in his usual attitude. 
 
 That is to say, he was seated at his desk, with hie 
 elbows leaning upon it, and his chin buried in the palms 
 of his bands. 
 
 The man had taken off his hat. 
 
 He held it with an air of clownish bashfulness between 
 his hands, and slowly twirled it over and over. 
 
 Jonathan looked keenly at him.
 
 BHIESK.IN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 233 
 
 — ' & 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD ENRAGES JACK SHEPPARD UV HIS TAUNTS.] 
 
 But the man bore the scrutiny unflinchingly. 
 
 The reader doubtless suspects who it was. 
 
 It was Steggs. 
 
 He had very carefully disguised himself— so carefully, 
 indeed, that no one, not even Lord Donmull, could have 
 recognised him. 
 
 The cringing manner he had assumed, partly because it 
 was one that he could act without much difficulty, and 
 partly because he considered he should best deceive Jona- 
 than by it. 
 
 Wild did not know him. 
 
 Clever as he was in penetrating a disguise, that of 
 Steggs baffled him. 
 
 He was careful, too, to change his voice. 
 
 " What do you want ? " asked the thief-taker ; " speak ! 
 I've no time to lose." 
 
 Steggs twirled the hat more rapidly between his fingers, 
 and appeared confused. 
 
 " What do you want ? " roared Wild, again. 
 
 " Mr. Wild! '' stammered Steggs. 
 
 " Well ! " 
 
 " You employ a goodish many men, sir." 
 
 "Ya— ah!" 
 
 " I am a poor fellow." 
 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 " I can't get no work." 
 
 "Ya-ah!" 
 
 " Mr. Wild, will you take me into your service ? I am 
 sure I'll serve you faithfully." 
 
 Jonathan was about to reply at once in the negative, 
 but a sudden consideration induced him to alter his mind. 
 
 He looked still more keenly at his visitor. 
 
 JIow was Steggs in danger. 
 
 The scheme he had proposed was, indeed, a bold one. 
 
 It was to enter Wild's service. 
 
 To profess himself to be his most devoted adherent. 
 
 To worm himself as much as he could into his seorets. 
 
 Then when he felt that he had him securely in hi* 
 power. 
 
 When he felt that he ccmld not escape 
 
 No. 30,
 
 "** 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Then he should turn against him. 
 
 Achieve his ruin. 
 
 But the scheme, bold and daring as it was, would not 
 be very easy to carry out. 
 
 Jonathan was a man not easily to be deceived. 
 
 Should he discover the imposture, Steggs would ba»»e 
 to suffer for it. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, although he had a great man; uuit in 
 his gang, was always careful not .to engage one without 
 he had evidenoe of his having committed a felony. _/ 
 
 Then he could do just what he liked with him, baeause 
 of his being able at any time to bring a charge against 
 him. 
 
 Now Steggs was not liable to this. 
 
 But something about him — in all probability, his humble 
 01 rather servile manner— seemed to please him, and he 
 felt inclined to wave this objection. 
 
 Besides, he thought it would not be long before he got 
 a hold upon him of some sort or other. 
 
 The defection of Flood and Blewitt had, of course, 
 made a vacancy in the number of his personal adherents. 
 
 The man before him desired to enter his employ. 
 
 He was ragged and starving, and he thought he should 
 have some claim upon his gratitude — not that Wild ever 
 had much idea of that, for in his own self he was almost a 
 stranger to it. 
 
 " Are you willing to do my bidding P " he growled, 
 looking fiercely upon Steggs. " It will be no child's play, 
 I can tell you ! " 
 
 " Try me, Mr. Wild," whimpered Steggs. " Give me 
 a trial, do, sir ! ' Oh ! dear." 
 
 It was like the spider asking the fly to walk into his 
 parlour only once. 
 
 " I will,' said Jonathan, after a moment's considera- 
 tion, " and you will find that if you will only do your duty 
 you will have a good place, and earn heaps of money." 
 
 " Mr. Wild," said Steggs, " you will always find me to 
 be your very humble servant en all occasions when I shall 
 be of the slightest service to you." 
 
 " Don't say too much," growled the thief-taker. a Serve 
 me faithfully. I am sick of the treachery of those around 
 me, and wish to find some one in whom I can confide 
 and rely. I shall put you on your trial, and if you try 
 to play me false in any matter, you know the result." 
 
 " Oh ! dear." 
 
 " A ride to Tyburn, and a dance upon nothing." 
 
 " Oh ! dear." 
 
 " What makes you say, « Oh ! dear ?' " 
 
 " It's a way I've got, Mr. Wild, that's all." 
 
 "Ya-ah!^ 
 
 " May I consider the matter as settled, sir P" 
 
 "Yes. I shall keep a sharp eye upon your move- 
 ments." 
 
 " And if you are satisfied, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 " You shall have nothing to grumble at." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. Oh ! dear." 
 
 Bang ! bang ! went Wild's cudgel on the desk. 
 
 Wilkinson appeared. 
 
 " This man has entered my service," said the thief- 
 taker, in a disagreeable voice. " See that he is treated 
 properly." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Oh ! dear, yes, sir, of course." 
 
 Wilkinson was surprised. 
 
 Hut he did not dare show it. 
 
 Steggs followed him out. 
 
 As soon as he was alone, Jonathan resumed his medi- 
 tations. 
 
 From the expression of his countenance, it might 
 be gathered that they were of a particularly pleasing 
 nature. 
 
 He was interrupted by his business, a detail fci waioh 
 would prove anything but pleasing to the reader. 
 _ At length, towards evening, he put on his hat, and left 
 hia house, muttering as he did so. 
 
 " It will do me good to see him, and now I have bad 
 some work, why shouldn't I have some pleas-are? Ila! ha!" 
 
 CHAPTER CLXII. 
 
 BLUESKIN, BY MEANS OF A HEAVY FEE, RETAINS THE 
 SERVICES OF AN EMINENT LAWYER ON BEHALF OF 
 JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 Immured in one of the darkest, deepest, and strongest 
 cells in Newgate, was Jack Sheppard. 
 
 It was far — very far Indeed— beneath the surface, ana a 
 faint reflected light was all that illumined it. 
 
 The walls were slippery with moisture, and covered in 
 many places with guttering exhalations of a nitry cha- 
 racter, while on the floor the damp had collected in a 
 number of tiny pools. 
 
 It was, in truth, as cheerless a place as could well have 
 been imagined. 
 
 The little aperture Hear the roof, and which, for the 
 want of a better appellation, we suppose we must call 
 the window, was unglazed, and defended with strong iron 
 bars. 
 
 It seemed almost a mockery to place them there, for 
 what fettered prisoner would be able to climb up the 
 smooth slippery stones, which afforded neither hand nor 
 foothold. 
 
 The door which opened into the stone passage was of 
 itself a masterpiece of strength. 
 
 It was plated on the inner side with sheet iron. 
 
 The frame of the door was also sheathed with iron. 
 
 That, indeed, seemed something through which it 
 would be impossible to force a passage ; but, beyond 
 that, there was the stone corridor protected by just such 
 another door, and many more, before the street could be 
 reached. 
 
 What man was there, who, in the full possession of 
 health and strength, and provided with every tool requi- 
 site for his purpose, who could have worked his way to 
 freedom undetected ? 
 
 We are not afraid to say no one. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard had no tools whatever. 
 
 He was fettered, too, in such a manner that no one 
 could have got free from them. 
 
 Round his waist was a broad iron ring, weighing many 
 pounds. 
 
 It was secured by a padlock. 
 
 A ring was fixed in one part of it, and through this a 
 chain was linked, which was fastened at the other end to 
 a large iron staple cemented in the stonework. 
 
 And not only this, but his ankles were encircled with 
 iron rings, to which long links of chain were affixed, and 
 riveted to his girdle. 
 
 Then his wrists were secured in a similar manner, 
 except that the chain which connected them was formed 
 ' of small links, and was not attached to the iron ring 
 round his middle. 
 
 Thus loaded — for it is stated, upon good autbority, that 
 the aggregate weight of the fetters worn by him on this 
 occasion exceeded two hundred and thirty pounds — he 
 found it a matter of considerable difficulty to move at all. 
 
 Did not escape, then, seem out of the question P 
 
 It did ; and even Jack lost all hope when he reflected 
 upon the obstacles he would have to overcome before he 
 could get free. 
 
 Gloomily, then, after he had been left to himself, he sat 
 down upon the stone bench. and thought. 
 
 And the more he thought the more he gave way to 
 despair. 
 
 What the result of the morrow's proceedings would be, 
 when he was put upon his trial, he already knew. 
 
 Was Jonathan Wild to triumph P 
 
 It seemed so. 
 
 Blueskin was at liberty, and doubtless would do all he 
 could to serve him ; but Jack was one of those who place 
 but slight reliance upon the proceedings of others, pre- 
 ferring to depend upon his own. 
 
 And when he saw his inability to aid himself, it made 
 him doubtful of the ability of others. 
 
 Slowly and wearily the hours wore away, but he made 
 no movement. 
 
 He bent his head in sorrowful dejection. 
 
 What had been his life P 
 
 A brief and unhappy course, to meet with a violent 
 termination. 
 
 His most bitter thought was the revulsion of feeling 
 which Edgworth Bess would feel towards him upon hear- 
 ing the account of the murder. 
 
 Ho had seen her for the last time, he thought ; and, 
 even should he, by some chance or other, regain hia 
 freedom, she would never treat him as she had formerly 
 done. 
 
 This was hard, indeed, to bear, for, despite the difference 
 there was in their position — or, rather, rank — he krced fcw 
 with his whole heart.
 
 BLUESKIN: A BOMANCB. 
 
 935 
 
 The passion waa a wayward one, no donbt. It could 
 not be otherwise in such a fierce spirit, but, after his own 
 fashion, he did love her. 
 
 It was not, however, that he ever thought of her 
 becoming his wife. He looked up to her as being some- 
 thing as far above him as the stars, and, like them, only to 
 be admired at a distance. 
 
 But, abovs all things, was he desirous of standing well 
 in her opinion. He would gladly have gone through firo 
 and water, or endured a thousand deaths to do her service ; 
 and a good word from her, or a smile of approbation, he 
 would have felt to be an ample reward. 
 
 It must not be forgotten that the by far greater portion 
 of Wild's enmity towards him was induced by his espousing 
 the cause of the poor heiress. Had he consented to aid 
 Wild in his iniquitous designs against her, he would have 
 had the thief-taker on his side. 
 
 But it is questionable whether the enmity of auch a 
 man as Jonathan Wild was not preferable to hia friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Had he in reality been guilty of the heinous crime of 
 which he had been accused, Jack would not have felt it 
 half so much as he did. He almost felt that he could be 
 content to die were that stigma removed from his name. 
 
 His ruminations were interrupted just as it was growing 
 dusk, by the entrance of a jailor into the dungeon. 
 
 " Here's a visitor for you, Jack," he cried. " Walk in, 
 sir, if you please." 
 
 Jack looked up eagerly. 
 
 His first thought was that it was Blueskin who had 
 come to pay him this visit, and he was somewhat dis- 
 appointed when he saw standing before him an individual 
 whom he had certainly never seen before, and who his dress 
 proclaimed to be a lawyer. 
 
 " Tour name is Sheppard, I presume," he said, with a 
 bow and a smile. 
 
 " Well, sir." 
 
 " I have been sent here." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " Allow me to say, in fact," added the lawyer, with a 
 satisfied smile at bis own wit. 
 
 " By whom have you been sent ? " asked Jack, suspi- 
 ciously, for he fancied in this he could detect some deep- 
 laid scheme on the part of his arch-enemy. " By whom 
 have you been sent ? " 
 
 " I will tell you, Mr. Sheppard, for the gentleman who 
 paid me my fee had an idea that you would mistrust me, 
 and therefore put me in possession of a kind of password, 
 if I may so speak, by which you might know it was to 
 your own interest to speak freely to me." 
 
 "And what is it?" 
 
 " The name by which the gentleman is often called by 
 those who are intimate with him, is Blueskin, on account 
 of the colour of his face. By others he is called Mr. 
 Joseph Blake. Neither of these, however, is his right 
 name." 
 
 " I am aware of that," said Jack, " and so are fifty 
 more." 
 
 " That may be, my dear sir, but don't be so impatient. 
 He told me this much, and then said that you were the 
 only person now living, save one, who knew his real 
 name." 
 
 "That is quite true," replied Jack, whose suspicions 
 began to dissipate. " But did he tell you his real name, 
 in order to convince me that you were really sent by 
 him?" 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " Then tell it me at onoe. I shall then have all the 
 doubts I feel removed." 
 
 "The name ie" 
 
 " Say it in a whisper," cried Jack, interrupting him. 
 " The turnkey may be listening, and I know he wants it 
 kept from all such ears. Now tell me." 
 
 The lawyer put his mouth to Jack's ear. 
 
 " Stephen Ticknor." 
 
 " Enough," said Jack. " Such is, indeed, his real name, 
 as he confided it to me. Did he say that it was known to 
 but one other person besides myself ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I Know to whom he alludes, and that person, although 
 the name may be familiar to him, does not identify it with 
 Blueskin." 
 
 " So much the better, then, my dear sir, as it forms a 
 
 sort of additional proof that I was really sent by him, and 
 with the intention of doing you a semce." 
 
 " It does. Tell me the particulars." 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it, though time is precious, and 
 I have much to say to you." 
 
 "Goon." 
 
 w To tee sure, This morning, then, I was visited in my 
 chambers in Lyon's Inn by this friend of yours, who gave 
 me a highly satisfactory fee, and engaged my services to 
 employ a counsel to defend you on your trial to-morrow." 
 
 Jiftok shook his head. 
 
 " I am afraid it will be of little use. The case is too 
 clear against me." 
 
 " It does seem very so," replied the lawyer. " Your 
 friend could not give me all the particulars, so I went to 
 Bow-street to read over the depositions." 
 
 " Mr. " said Jack, and he paused, for he did not 
 
 know the name of his visitor. 
 
 " Cunningham," suggested the lawyer, blandly. " Mr. 
 Jacob Cunningham." 
 
 Jack bowed. 
 
 " What I was about to say waa this — I have an enemy." 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " An enemy, too, of no ordinary kind — an enemy above 
 all to be dreaded." 
 
 "That is awkward." 
 
 "An enemy who is all powerful. He will appear 
 against me, and it is notorious that, if ever he gives 
 evidence against any one, that person is sure to be con- 
 victed." 
 
 " I can guess who you mean." 
 
 " Doubtless." 
 
 " The description is quite sufficient," said the lawyer. 
 " You mean Jonathan Wild." 
 
 CHAPTER CLXIII. 
 
 the governor op newgate and jonathan wild con- 
 sult together as to the best means of rendering 
 
 mr. Cunningham's services op no avail. 
 " I do," said Jack. " He has been, and is, my evil genius. 
 Through him my father was brought to the scaffold, and 
 he has sworn, over and over again, that I shall die at the 
 hangman's hands." 
 
 "I have heard," remarked the lawyer, " that one of hia 
 characteristics is, that, sooner or later, he never fails to 
 keep his word." 
 
 " It is so," responded Jack, gloomily. 
 
 " But come — come," said Mr. Cunningham, " this won't 
 do ; it isn't business. Never mind Jonathan Wild just 
 at present. We will decide what to do with him by and 
 bye." 
 
 " You might spare yourself the trouble." 
 
 "Pho — pho — not all. I have been paid well, and I 
 shall try my best to earn it. There is this about it, too : 
 it would be a very glorious thing to overthrow Jonathan 
 Wild — a very glorious thing indeed." 
 
 "No doubt.* 
 
 " Then let us do our best. If we don't make an effort 
 we are sure not to do it." 
 
 " But the case is so clear." 
 
 " Never mind that." 
 
 " And there are so many serious counts in the indict- 
 ment, that it would be impossible for me to be acquitted 
 on all of them." 
 
 " Stay — stay. Don't take things for granted quite bo 
 much. Listen to me." 
 
 "Wfcatisjt?" 
 
 " Tell me, if you can, what counts there will be. Take 
 a moment to reflect, and then tell me calmly." 
 
 Jack did so. 
 
 " Tte first," he said, " will no doubt be for committing 
 a robbery at the residence of a Mr. Hadley." 
 
 " Hum," said the lawyer, as he made a note of the cir- 
 cumstance in a note-book which he produced ; " and am I 
 to consider that there is sufficient ground to support that 
 count." 
 
 " If you mean," said Jack, bluntly, " did I commit the 
 burglary, I answer, yes." 
 
 " Oh ! a burglary waa itP" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " You said a robbery before." 
 
 "Did I?" 
 
 "Yes; and they are two rather different things, yo»
 
 -- ,-_
 
 mroftKDi « MKAVCK. 
 
 a*" 
 
 " Win i. coming P " be added. 
 Bjs quick ear had cevfrbt tbe P'-un^ o4 » f<w«ter 
 Another moment, and there was b knwk at tb* floor, 
 " Come in! " roared the governor. 
 A turnkey appeared. 
 
 "If you please, bit, I've oomf to ray, according to 
 orders, that tbe lawyer has inpt left Jack Sheppard o 
 
 " Very (rood," said tbe governor ; " febat will ao.* - 
 CHAPTER CXLIV. 
 
 JO!»MHAJ» W1XD TAUNTS JACK SHEPPAEH, 4KB KEARIY 
 PATS EOE KIB PLEASAjrTEY WiTH Ci* XIEE. 
 
 Jokatran Wild sprang to bis feet as bood as tbe tornkey 
 left. 
 
 ■ Mr. Noakes." 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Wild P " 
 
 " Have yon a ms* abont tbe place that yon can tow* f 
 M I don't know. What is it to do P" 
 " Let some one follow tbe lawyer when be goes out, yet 
 without seeming to do so." 
 
 ■ I see." 
 
 " And watch where be goes." 
 
 ■ That's it, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " We can make np our minds what to do whet; he oomes 
 tack." 
 
 " So we can." 
 
 " Be off with yon, then." 
 
 " I shall be too late, if I don't make hast*." 
 
 Mr. Noakes precipitately left the room as he spoke, in 
 order to send the spy upon his errand. 
 
 In a few minntes he returned. 
 
 " It's all right," be said. 
 
 ■ Can yon depend upon the man |*M bs^e s°pt P* 
 
 ■ I think so. ,f 
 
 " Has he ever done a similar job for von before H 
 
 "Oh! yes. Tbe feet is, Mr.' Wild, Ire c«t rather a 
 hold upon him." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " So that he dares not be false to roe, beoaue*, if be 
 was, his life would be sure to pay the forfeit." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! Ton understand that sort of thing, 1 pre- 
 ceive. There's nothing in tbe world like employing people 
 who can't call their lives their own, but who feel they bold 
 them entirely at your good pleasure." 
 
 " That is precisely my opinion, Mr. Wild, and I am 
 glad to find that a aimilar one is entertained by yon." 
 
 " Never mind compliments. What are we to do with 
 this confounded lawyer P" 
 
 " Ay ! that's it." 
 
 " He must be got oat of the way." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " What would be the best way of doing it P" 
 
 " That I 6honld rather leave to your superior gensns." 
 
 " Ta— ah ! That will do ! Suppose ^* ^p™ 1 »* «aake 
 him drank?" 
 
 ■ Yes." 
 
 " And then, when he was quite helpless, suppose we 
 were to put him into a poet -chaise, and have him driven 
 fifty ot sixty miles into the country, and left at some place 
 where be would not be able to find a convey* r 
 return." 
 
 " Capital, Mr. Wild, capital, if it can only be done ! " 
 
 " I have accomplished things that looked a great deal 
 more difficult than that." 
 
 " I am aware of it, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And I will do this, or I will never attempt anything 
 again! Ton leave that part to me. Inst lei me hMM 
 where he is to be found." 
 
 " I shall be able to do thai." 
 
 " Then you need n#t trouble vowrself any further." 
 
 " 1 quite understand, and fhen, if that is managed. 
 SheppanVs condemnation will follow as a mst*e: . 
 ooni>; 
 
 "Mind be don't play you any trick aa4 get off again 
 \ should advise you to Veen a sharp eye npon him. He 
 «eems to have a kind of faculty for prison -hre*A 
 
 1 . need not alarm yourself, Mr. Wild. Be is qaita 
 safe, and will be. Take my word for that. Wbv, ** this 
 present moment, he mutt be Voftded with st "(east tut 
 enndred weight of iron." 
 -.than smiled rnmlv 
 
 cue him mnch t- 
 
 - . . 
 
 them, bnt keep ; nj>nn him — that if. the best 
 
 thing yon can lev!" 
 
 i:rald yon like to pay kmj b ra 
 " That was the v«ry thing 1 can' - yon oaken* 
 
 ere." 
 '' Oh i ah ! So it was. WeL the k*w- 1 ■ ■ • • r 
 bo yen will find him disengaged." 
 
 It will do me good to see him," bbjc ~ht . 
 '' end why should not IP I have r i ~ 
 give him, too, which wiE disturb hie rer b i~" 
 "Have yon, indeed?" 
 " Yes, I shall settle him, don't fear, and bv 
 Monday he will so longer be here to tronL i 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan went to the door of the room, 
 and, on opening it, went ant. 
 
 A htQe passage a uii i iiiimic atefl the lodge of > ewgste 
 with this room, and having tr av ersed it, the governor 
 said to one of the tnrnkevs — 
 
 ■ Take Mr. Wild to Jack Sheppard'e cell." 
 
 The man rose to his feet, and jaajpaiijil to do um 
 governor's bidding. 
 
 Mr. Noakes did not attempt to follow tbe thief-taker 
 to his victim's cell. He was afraid his presence wot 
 considers - l.z 
 
 ', amiable as he seemec disposed 
 man to brook anvthmr 
 sort. 
 
 Accordingly Wild stalked after the turnkey in sol 
 and silence, until he arrived at tbe door of tbe -■• 
 
 fastsnir.: 
 
 pronaoLDTy at < 
 
 He noticed, too, its situation, and could not heir g 
 tbe governor credit for the discretion he hac r 
 selecting it. 
 
 After the lawyer had left bn», Jack he 6 eat down wifli 
 a somewhat lightened heart. 
 
 Hope had once more become an inmate a 
 
 He had bnt a slight knowledge of legal business, bnt be 
 bad often heard of its intricacies and chief. : 
 
 Perhaps, be thought, a clever enough mar might he 
 found, who, by a skilful appeal to ver- 
 
 sion of evidence, might 
 
 Certainly he did not look forw6.rr. • fne.1 
 
 with the same amount .-• ; 
 done hitherto. 
 
 Before, however, he had indulged in these reflections 
 for anv great length of time, be was aronser 
 the bolts withdrawn, and the look of his eeJl-doo- 
 back. 
 
 Curious, again, to know who should be 
 thinking that roost probably it was Mr. CunningbaT! 
 bad returned, in consequence ; 
 
 question be bad omitted to as' 
 the difficulty he had to do so. 
 
 Bnt, to his vexation and ange- , I 
 Jonathan WGd, stalked in. 
 
 Pot a moment or b*st A if strange pair stood oonfrontani: 
 each other in silence 
 
 Tbe cell door was closed, iejivmc tbem alone toger.be- 
 
 Tbe thief-taker folded his arms leisure 
 and then looked, with a sneering and triumphant smile, 
 into the oonntenanof »less enen.' 
 
 Jack retnmod his gase boldly and defiasth', and ev 
 the dee- c'^"<rr of the dung.' . bate 
 
 which held a place in his heart, eonld be soet 
 in his f 
 
 «- and had it not been from his wnw 
 
 that while b.- • j »-f^ fee pu immM ecc 
 
 reach him, be WSjaU have drswr. br ) ".^s®. 
 
 -•^fide- 
 will reroen ber, 
 each otbet ha<^ met face to face. 
 
 Re k 
 hard bfesj >. had detp'-mm^ • ■ ■ * - 
 
 At leagt> . and 
 
 -eased even more abruptly thar <A oonamr-
 
 138 
 
 BLUE8KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Nothing more unmirthful could well be imagined. 
 
 There wai no movement of the facial muscles, as there 
 always is in genuine, and usually in simulated, laughter. 
 The same expression of feature was preserved, and the 
 sound produced by simply opening the teeth a little way, 
 and suddenly expiring breath. 
 
 Jack Sheppavd shuddered imperceptibly as it gn^i 
 upon his hearing. 
 
 It sounded in his ears like the mocking 'wghter of 
 fiends. 
 
 " So you're safe again, Master Jack," said Wild, after 
 another, but shorter pause. " Your lodgings are not very 
 comfortable, but then you have one consolation, you won't 
 have long to put up with them. Ha ! ha ' " 
 
 Again came that horrible laugh. 
 
 It seemed to freeze the blood in Jack's veins. 
 
 But he took no notice of Wild's words, he only gaeed 
 yet more fiercely upon him. 
 
 " Had a lawyer in to see you, I hear. I hope he will 
 be successful in getting you off, but I am going to appear 
 against you myself, and you know what that means, I 
 dare say." 
 
 Still Jack made no reply. 
 ^ His silonce enraged the thief-taker more than he would 
 have liked to confess. 
 
 It was only by an effort that Jack maintained his 
 composure. 
 
 " You won't speak, won't you ! " continued Wild, 
 sneeringly. " Ah ! well, as you like, it dou't matter to 
 me, but I could tell you something that would make you 
 open your mouth, or I am mistaken." 
 
 Jack felt, as might be expected, a strong desire to know 
 what his foe alluded to, but still he persisted in his deter- 
 mination not to speak. 
 
 " Never mind, my fine fellow, you'll ask me just now, 
 and then I shall have my revenge upon you. Jack, you're 
 doomed ! You may have got some false hopes or other 
 from your lawyer ; they always misrepresent facts. There 
 is no hope of escape for you ! You will as surely swing at 
 Tyburn next Monday as the sun will rise upon that day ! " 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 " I shall come and see the show, and I shall take care 
 to bring another with me to witness it. To be sure, she 
 is in rather a delicate state of health, owing to the way 
 she has been knocked about lately. But by Monday she 
 will be well enough to accompany me, and I shall take 
 care she does so." 
 
 "Who?" roared Jack, hoarsely, though he scarcely 
 required to be told. " Who ? " 
 
 " So you have spoken at last, eh ? That was the charm 
 that had power to loosen your tongue. I thought I should 
 be able to do so, if I had a little patience. Ha ! ha ! Can't 
 you guess, Jack, who it is ? I am sure you can, if you try. 
 It's your old sweetheart, Edgworth Bess — my wife, that 
 is to be. She has promised, and it's all arranged. She's 
 at my house waiting for me now. You wouldn't believe 
 how loving she has got. She"— — 
 
 " Liar ! ? ' yelled Jack, " liar ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CLXV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD HAS A NAKROW ESCAPE OF HIS LIFE 
 FROM JACK SHEPPARD, BUT IS RESCUED BY HIS 
 FRIEND, THE GOVERNOR. 
 
 As he uttered these words, which he did with extraordi- 
 nary vehemence, Jack seized his manacles near their 
 junction with his wrists, and, swinging the massive 
 chains over his head, aimed a tremendous blow at his 
 tormentor. 
 
 Jonathan had succeeded in his object of arousing Jack's 
 passion. 
 
 He was pleased accordingly, and sought to aggravate 
 him still more. 
 
 He thought, however, that where he stood Jack could 
 not reach to harm him. 
 
 But in this he was deceived. 
 
 The heavy fetters came down with fearful violence upon 
 his right hand. 
 
 The pain was great — so great, indeed, as to extort a 
 yell from his lips. 
 
 Ere, however, ithad died away upon his lips, he sprang 
 forward with the intention of strangling Jack, so greatly 
 tiid the pain from the blow inflame his passion. 
 
 But Jack saw him coming, and stepping back a pace or 
 
 two, he swung the fetters once more in the air, and this 
 time brought them down upon Jonathan's head. 
 
 An enormous crack was the result. 
 
 But Jonathan's skull was not made of very tender stuff, 
 or it nould have given way long ago under the blows it 
 had received. 
 
 He was half stunned, however. 
 
 He staggered. 
 
 But before Jack had time to give him another blow, he 
 closed with him. 
 
 Jack lost his footing immediately. 
 
 Upon equal terms Jonathan weighed at least thrioe as 
 much as he did, and now he was incumbered with the iron 
 work, he stood no chance at all. 
 
 It was impossible for him to keep his feet. 
 
 In his rage, Jonathan evidently forgot the elaborate 
 plan of revenge he had concocted against him, and which 
 had so nearly reached a consummation. 
 
 He was intent only upon putting his enemy to death. 
 
 When down, however, Jack grappled firmly with him. 
 
 A great noise, of course, had taken place, and still con- 
 tinued. 
 
 It reached the ears of the turnkey without. 
 
 He just gave one glance at what was taking place, and 
 then hurried off to spread the alarm. 
 
 In less than a moment he returned with several of his 
 mates and the governor of Newgate himself, by whose 
 orders the frantic combatants were parted. 
 
 But the separation was not effected without a great deal 
 of trouble. 
 
 When accomplished^ both looked very much the worse 
 for the encounter. 
 
 As for Jack, he lay almost in a state of insensibility, 
 and he was allowed to do the best he could for himself, 
 for, of course, Mr. Noakes had every attention paid to his 
 villainous friend. 
 
 In addition to the blow upon his right hand and arm, 
 and the one on the head, which had been given by the 
 fetters, Jonathan had received a number of scratches and 
 contusions. 
 
 " Brandy ! " he yelled, as soon as he recovered the use 
 of his voice ; " brandy, I say ! Curse you all — brandy ! 
 It's in my coat pocket, I tell you ! " 
 
 Jonathan spoke as though he had mentioned this cir- 
 cumstance before, but the hint was quite enough, so the 
 turnkey put his hand in the pocket, and brought forth a 
 tolerable-sized flask. 
 
 As soon as he caught sight of it, Jonathan clutched at 
 it with hia left and uninjured hand, and, carrying it to his 
 lips, did not move it again while a spot of the contents 
 remained. 
 
 Then he flung it down on the dungeon floor with a 
 shout, and had not the turnkey, kept a firm hold upon him 
 he would have again sprang upon Jack, defenceless as he 
 was. 
 
 It was at this moment, as it so happened, that Sheppard 
 recovered himself sufficiently to sit up and look around. 
 
 The governor approached the thief-taker and whis- 
 pered — 
 
 " Come, come, Mr. Wild, do not let us have any more 
 of this ; remember, I shall get into trouble. Only wait 
 till to-morrow, and then all will be well." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said Jonathan, in shrieking tones. " Of 
 course, to-morrow. He will be sentenced to-morrow, and 
 on Monday he will swing at Tyburn, as his father did 
 before him. I had forgotten that. Ah! a thousand 
 curses ! " 
 
 Jonathan had forgotten something else. 
 
 That was his arm. 
 
 But pain soon reminded him of it. 
 
 His fury rose again, and imprecations of so terrible of 
 a nature came from his lips, that the very turnkeys, used 
 as they wefwvo that sort of thing, fairly trembled. 
 
 " Call back your words," screamed Jack, vainly endea- 
 vouring to regain his feet. " Call back your words. 
 Admit that you lied when you spoke to me." 
 
 " That touches you, does it ? " said Jonathan, who, after 
 his storm of curses had begun to subside into a calm. 
 " You shall smart for this. It is one more score against 
 you, which will be wiped off at the same time as the 
 others." 
 
 " Call back your words," again cried Jack, who, finding 
 he could not rise to a standing posture, had crawled as 
 far towards his enemy as the chain by which he was
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAJTCB. 
 
 2% 
 
 listened to the floor would allow him. " Tell me what you 
 said was false." 
 
 " It is true! "screamed Wild," it is true ! You wondered 
 where she was, no doubt, and so did I. But I have found 
 her, Jack — the thing which you failed to do. I made her 
 a prisoner, and she is at this moment in my house, which 
 she will leave for the first timej under my escort, to witness 
 your execution !" 
 
 " It is false ! " cried Jack," false as your own he*»+- J 
 
 At length, towards morning, he fell into a kind of doze, 
 produced by exhaustion more than anything else. 
 
 From this he was awakened by the entrance of several 
 persons towards morning. 
 
 His irons were taken off, and he was allowed to wash 
 bis face, and make himself otherwise presentable. 
 
 Then some more routine was gone through, which it 
 is hardly worth while tr> trouble the reader in detail 
 
 and I am a fool to place any credence in what you say 
 I might have guessed your object was to make my ocn- 
 finement as bitter as possible, but you have overshot the 
 mark." 
 
 " You can disbelieve me, if you choose. Yea astik fill 
 yourself up with the idea that she is in some place of 
 safety. But on Monday, Jack, you will be undeceived, 
 for you will see her under my protection at Tyburn." 
 
 Jack fairly howled with rage. He tried in vam to 
 articulate his words. 
 
 The governor of Newgate here interfered, and, after a 
 little trouble, persuaded Jonathan to leave the coll. 
 No one cast a glance upon poor Jack. 
 The ponderous door was closed and locked, and he vas 
 left to his own reflections. 
 
 Painfully, and after repeated straggles, he got r v p off 
 the floor, and seated himself upon the low stoc? bench, 
 which served alike for chair and bed. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " he groaned, not with the pain of 
 the hurts he had received, but in deep agony of spirit. 
 " What shall I do to save her ? Can it be possible that 
 her evil fortune is so much in the ascendant as to have 
 placed her once more in that villain's hands ! I will not, 
 cannot believe it ! " 
 
 He wiped the blood and perspiration from his face as 
 he spoke. 
 
 " I had the miscreant in my power," he said. " Would 
 that I could have maintained my advantage, or been 
 armed with a knife, which I could have sheathed in his 
 heart. I should then at least have had the consolation 
 that Edgworth Bess had one enemy the less, and I almost 
 think I should have been willing to die ! " 
 
 A sudden pain made him utter a faint cry and cease 
 speaking. 
 
 Wild had mauled him dreadfully. 
 The irons had braised his body at every turn. 
 " Can it be really true ? " he asked himself again. 
 " Would that I could see Blueskin, or find some means of 
 communicating with him, but there is no hopes of my 
 doing that — none at all ! I must remain where I am, 
 alternately swayed by hopes and fears. If she is really a. 
 prisoner in his hands, heaven help her, for she has need 
 of it ! Her peril is of no ordinary character." 
 He paused again. 
 
 " Would I was free ! " he cried, " would I was free ! 
 I should not care then. Can these bolts and links confine 
 me ? No ! I will be free ! I will save her ! " 
 
 As he spoke, he made a desperate effort to brearc away 
 from his fetters by main force, but hia own eeuse ought to 
 have shown him the futility of making such an attempt as 
 that. 
 
 The strong iron yielded not in the least, but cast him 
 back more braised and strengthless than before. 
 
 He lay for a little while utterly exhausted, and unable 
 to move hand or foot. 
 
 Then a partial state of insensibility ensued. 
 It would have been a mercy had it been perfect 
 No one came to visit him. 
 
 At the appointed hour, the man whose duty it was to 
 ■upply the prisoners with food, opened the door a little 
 way, and brought a loaf and pitcher of water into the 
 cell, and then went away. 
 
 Darker and darker grew the cell as the fair and beauti- 
 ful daylight faded away, until at last it became impossible 
 to distinguish anything in it. 
 Then Jack roused a little. 
 
 Doubtless the cold air which swept in was iiie &um. 
 He resumed his old seat. 
 His limbs, however were stiff and cramped 
 Then once again he began to think. 
 He made no attempt to he down or to sleep ; the latter, 
 he felt, would be utterly impossible. 
 
 And so he remained through the long, weary hours of 
 the night, listening to the lapse of time as it was noted 
 by the etock in the belfry of St. Sepulchre's. 
 
 with. 
 
 Jonathan Wild and Mr. Noakes had so managed, that 
 his trial should take place very early in the morning of the 
 first day of the sessions. 
 
 Their motive for this will presently be made apparent, 
 if it is not already guessed at by the reader. 
 
 Flood and Blewitt were, of course, brought into the 
 dock upon a charge of burglary and murder, and Jack 
 Sheppard was placed along with them. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVI. 
 
 PLACED AT THE BAB OP 
 HIS TRIAL FOB THE 
 
 IN WHICH JACK SHEPPABD IS 
 THE OLD BAILEY, TO TAKE 
 MURDER OP JOHN ROOTS. 
 
 The court was very full. 
 
 That was the first thing that struck Jack, after giving 
 a hasty glance around. 
 
 He then began to look more particularly. 
 
 His two companions — if such they should be called — 
 stood with sullen mien and doggedly ferocious counte- 
 nances, awaiting the pronunciation of that doom which 
 they knew it would be impossible for them to avoid. 
 
 Should the present charge fail of substantiation, 
 Jonathan Wild, they knew, would be prepared with 
 another. 
 
 From these, Jack looked among the crowd of white- 
 wigged barristers before him, and made a vain endeavour 
 to distinguish Mr. Cunningham amongst them. 
 
 He was not there. 
 
 Alas ! there was every reason to fear that the thief- 
 taker had succeeded in carrying out the soheme he had 
 prepared. 
 
 Then Jack looked in the faces of the spectators, in the 
 hope that among them he should find one, at least, which 
 he should recognise as belonging to a friend. 
 
 But this hope was disappointed. 
 
 He was aroused from this occupation by hearing the 
 harsh, cracked voice of the clerk of the arraigns, as that 
 individual began to read the indictment. 
 
 Jack tried at first to comprehend it, but, finding it was 
 totally beyond his power, he again looked at his sur- 
 roundings. 
 
 One judge was on the bench. 
 
 He was a stranger to Jack. 
 
 On his left hand was the jury-box ; but, in the cold and 
 apathetic-looking faces which they all, -without exception, 
 wore, he could gather nothing reassuring. 
 
 But, happening to glance down where several of the 
 prison officials were standing, he perceived his two 
 greatest enemies, the governor of Newgate and Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 
 Jonathan looked up at him with a triumphant smile. 
 
 His face still bore the marks of the preceding evening's 
 contest, and his right arm was carried in a sling. 
 
 So absorbed was Jack with the contemplation of his 
 hideous physiognomy — or rather, so fascinated did he 
 ceem to be by the thief-taker's basilisk gaze, that he did 
 not notice the cleric of the arraigns had finished reading 
 the indictment, and that the court was waiting for him to 
 plead, until a turnkey touched him on the arm and 
 reminded him of it. 
 
 He found that the eyes of all present, spectators, jury, 
 witnesses, judge, were upon him — but, nevertheless, he 
 subdued the embarrassment he felt, and replied in a 
 <^ear, calm voice — 
 
 "Not guilty!" 
 
 The plea was entered, and then the trial actually begun; 
 
 The Crown prosecuted. 
 
 The Attorney-General rose to state the case to the 
 jury- 
 He paused a moment, and arranged his robes, while the 
 slight bustle and confusion in the court subsided to perfect 
 
 This' was soon obtained, for upon the laces of the spec- 
 tators generally was an exjurasaion of deep interest,
 
 240 
 
 ULttnKiS: A JiOMANCfe. 
 
 (They Lad heard already some particulars of the case, 
 »vud longed for fuller details. 
 One of the junior counsel at the table now handed the 
 i Attorney -General a brief, and he commenced his address I 
 ( as follows : — 
 
 " My Lord, and gentlemen of the jury, j 
 
 | *' Three men — one so young as scarcely to have J.^ed 
 I the title — now stand before you at the bar of this oourt, 
 , to answer to a charge, the penalty of which, if it be sub- 
 I st.antiated, is death by the hands of the executioner. 
 | " Ample evidence will be laid before you, as to ttie 
 particulars of the crime, but before the several witnesses 
 s ure called, I feel it to be my duty to call youi attention to 
 cue or two circumstances of a very important nature. 
 
 "In the first place, though all three of the prisoners 
 are charged in the indictment with the crime of murder, 
 >vith malice ■prepense, and though they were unquestion- 
 ably all three concerned in it, yet evidence will be given 
 which will tend to fix the onus of the guilt upon one of 
 the prisoners only, and absolve the others from it. 
 
 " At least the evidence will serve to show by whose hand 
 the deed was actually committed, though, as I need 
 scarcely tell you, the other two standing by were acces- 
 sories, and are equally guilty in the eyes of the law. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury, I shall now lay before you a 
 plaiu statement of facts, after which I shall proceed to 
 call witnesses, who will depose to the truth of what I 
 advance. 
 
 " In Wych-street, in the Strand, near the church of 
 8t. Clement's Danes, there resided for many years a 
 worthy and respected inhabitant of this great city, by 
 name John Boots, and by profession a carpenter. 
 
 " About six or seven years ago this said John Roots 
 took into his service, as apprentice, one John Sheppard, 
 the youngest of the three prisoners at the bar. 
 
 " It was an act of charity and benevolence upon his part 
 to take this lad and put a trade into his hands, for he did 
 not receive, as is usually the case, any premium with him. 
 "There is another circumstance, too, which places the 
 conduct of the carpenter in a more estimable light. The 
 father of this John Sheppard was a notoriously bad 
 character, and, after a brief course of villainy, expiated his 
 crimes at Tyburn. 
 
 " I will not say that it is just or right, but certain it is 
 that the consequences of a crime always fall upon the eon 
 of the perpetrator, and so it was in this instance. 
 
 " Few people in the city of London, knowing the ante- 
 cedents of this misguided young man, would have ventured 
 to take him into their service. 
 
 " But John Boots generously and magnanimously waived 
 this objection. 
 
 " Soon, however, to his deep and infinite regret, he 
 found that his kind-heartedness was misplaced — thrown 
 uvvay, in fact— for the apprentice proved to him a perpetual 
 trouble and annoyance. 
 
 " Still he thought he might be able to train his plastic 
 epirit and curb his vicious temper, but he found all his 
 ttforts unavailing. 
 
 " The leaven of evil was in him, and it worked out, nor 
 could its progress be stayed. 
 
 " It will be out of my province to relate all that took 
 place. Let it suffice to say that on the night of the tenth 
 day of August last, John Boots sat up until a late hour 
 for his recalcitrant apprentice, and at length, wearied out, 
 went to bed. 
 
 " He was awoke by hearing a furious hubbub in the 
 street, and, upon going to the window, he found it was 
 caused by this Jack Sheppard, who, maddened by drink, 
 was reviling his kind and indulgent master, and uttering 
 most diabolical threats of vengeance. 
 
 " From this time John Boots lost sight of the unworthy 
 object of his bounty, but the police soon heard of his 
 exploits, for he turned housebreaker at once, associating 
 himself with one Joseph Blake, against whom a warrant 
 has been issued. 
 
 " The house of a highly respectable gentleman, named 
 Iladley, was selected for the scene of their first exploit, 
 and from which they succeeded in taking a considerable 
 booty. 
 
 i" Mr. Hadley was rlred at by one of the burglars, it does 
 not appear which, and was severely wounded. 
 " That active and enterprizing officer, however, who has 
 recently increased his claim upon the gratitude of the 
 the putiic by exterminating, first a nest of coiners, and 
 
 afterwards a baud of ferocious pirates, took the watte 1- 
 hand, and in a little while caught Sheppard, and lodged 
 him in Newgate. 
 
 " He was placed in a cell and heavily ironed, by the 
 instructions of Jonathan Wild, who declared him to be a 
 most desperate character. 
 
 " It seevns almost beyond belief, but it is unquestionably 
 true, that, by some means or other, the prisoner managed 
 to free himself from his fetters, nud, by digging under the 
 door of the cell, made his way h»to the outer passage. 
 
 " It is supposed, for there is no witness of this transac- 
 tion, that Sheppard met one of the turnkeys, Godfrey by 
 name, and, taking him somehow at a disadvantage, dashed 
 his brains out. At all events, the body of the otEcer was 
 found shortly afterwards in that condition. 
 
 " From prudential motives, we decline to give any 
 minute details of his escape. In a word, although it wa« 
 deemed an impossibility, this youth contrived to get from 
 the strongest prison in England." 
 
 The counsel paused for a moment, in order to regain hi* 
 breath, while Jack found himself the universal object of 
 the public gaze. 
 
 It is a most uncomfortable feeling to have the eyes of 
 hundreds of people fixed upon your face, and Jack found 
 it to be so. 
 
 But the counsel hastened to resume his address, which 
 he had already extended to rather an unusual length. 
 
 " Upon making his escape, one would have thought 
 he would have abandoned his evil course of life ; but no, 
 quite the reverse, for, in a day or two afterwards, he and 
 this same Joseph Blake committed a highway robbery on 
 the Dover-road. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild, whose zeal in the pursuit of criminals 
 of all descriptions never abates, as soon as he learned the 
 particulars of the escape, set out after the fugitives, and 
 was fortunate enough to secure both upon Blackfriar's- 
 bridge. 
 
 " I am scarcely right here. Blake was not captured. 
 ITe sprang over the parapet into the river, and though 
 Mr. Wild chased him for some time in a boat, be was un- 
 able to capture him. 
 
 " Sheppard, however, was left upon the bridge, in chru ge 
 of the two men who now stand beside him at the bar. 
 
 " What took place between them can only be surmised, 
 but it appears pretty clear that, by holding out some in- 
 ducement or other, Sheppard succeeded in making tht» 
 two men false to their trust. 
 
 " Immediately, as I may say, after this, the three 
 villains directed their steps to the house of Mr. John 
 Boots, and there committed a burglary. 
 
 " Of the heinousness of this crime, so black with in- 
 gratitude as it was, I shall not say a word. Some things 
 are best and most forcibly described by silence. 
 
 " The house was entered and robbed. The master of^it, 
 as is supposed, was aroused by the noise, and, going to the 
 head of the stairs, raised an alarm." 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVII. 
 
 THE COUNSEL KOR THE PROSECUTION CONCLUDES HIS 
 ADDRESS TO THE JURY, AND THE KIKST WITNESS IS 
 CALLED. 
 
 " That sound proved, gentlemen of the jury, to be his 
 death-warrant. 
 
 " He was shot with a pistol, and fell down the stair- 
 case. 
 
 " But the officers of justice, who had been on the look- 
 out for Sheppard near this spot, heard the alarm which 
 was raised, and hastened to the residence of the carpenter, 
 round the front door of which several watchmen ud a 
 crowd of persons were collected. 
 
 "The door was found to be fastened, and, as 
 admission was denied them, the police-officers, under the 
 orders of their inspector, Mr. Skellum, proceeded to break 
 it down, and effect a forcible entry. 
 
 " No sooner was the door broken down, gentlemen of 
 the jury, than, with a boldnes that cannot but be wondered 
 at, the three prisoners made a vigorous rush, and tried to 
 force their way through the orowd. 
 
 " So unexpected was this attack, that they very nearly 
 succeeded in getting off, but, luckily for the welfare of 
 society, these depredators were beaten back;, secured, and 
 lodged in Newgate. 
 
 "On entering the h.-.usa, the unfortunate tradesman,
 
 BLUESKIN: A UOMAHCE 
 
 241 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD, BY THE AID OF HIS FRIENDS, MAKES A SECOND ESCAPE FROM NEWGATE.] 
 
 Mr. Roots, was found by inspector Skelluni and his men 
 weltering in his blood at the bcttom of the staircase. 
 
 " It was found that he was not yet dead, so, having 
 raised him to a sitting posture, they asked him for the 
 name of his murderer. 
 
 " He made several unsuccessful attempts to speak, and 
 at last managed to gasp out two words, which were, how- 
 ever, clearly articulated, and Inspector Skellum and the 
 men who stood near him are ready to take their oaths 
 what those two words were. 
 
 " Those two words, gentlemen of the jury, composed a 
 name. 
 
 " And that name was Jack Sheppard — the name of the 
 youngest prisoner at the bar." 
 
 Again the prosecuting counsel paused, and made a 
 reference to the bundle of papers he held in his hands. 
 
 Again did Jack find himself the object of universal 
 attention, and this time he could see, owing to the manner 
 \n which the charge was made against him, that very 
 little, if any, popular sympathy was on his side. 
 
 More than once during the counsel's address, an indig- 
 nant denial of the facts there stated rose to his lips, but, 
 each time that he would have spoken, he fortunately 
 managed to control himself. 
 
 He remembered the words of his lawyer, Mr. Cunning- 
 ham, that he was on no account to speak, and, although 
 he could not see that gentleman anywhere in the court, 
 he resolved, let what would be the temptation, to obey 
 him. 
 
 The counsel spoke again. 
 Such, my lord and gentlemen of the jury, is the case 
 against the youngest prisoner at the bar. I have dwelt 
 rather fully upon it, and may incur from some the charge 
 of prolixity, but I wished to give, if possible, a brief but 
 clear relation of all the facts concerned, in order that 
 you, my lord, and you, gentlemen of the jury, might all the 
 more readily come to a decision, and, if I succeed in doing 
 this, I shall certainly be held guiltless of unnecessarily 
 taking up the time of the court. 
 
 " To dwell upon any of the features of this case would 
 
 No. 31,
 
 m 
 
 BtTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 be supererogation. I cannot help expressing a belief that 
 it would be impossible to find in the annals of criminal 
 jurisprudence an instance of blacker ingratitude, treachery, 
 and wickedness than that of this unhappy young man. 
 
 " He has scarcely passed the frontiers of manhood, and 
 yet we see him burdened with a life time of crimes. 
 Young as he is, three persons have received their death 
 at his hands. 
 
 "And now, my lord, and gentlemen of the jury, I must 
 conclude by directing your attention to the two other 
 prisoners. 
 
 "As you will have already perceived, the case against 
 them is included in the one implicating Sheppard. 
 
 " They suffered themselves to be lured by his specious 
 promises and representations. 
 
 " They suffered themselves to be led into crime by him. 
 
 " They were captured in the very act of escaping from 
 the very house where the burglary and murder had been 
 committed, and upon their persons was found the principal 
 portion of the booty, which has been identified as belonging 
 to John Roots. 
 
 " Such, gentlemen of the jury, is the case for the prose- 
 cution, and the only thing that now remains for me to do, 
 is to call the several witnesses who are in attendance here 
 to-day to give their evidence, after hearing which I shall 
 be able to leave it in your hands for decision, and, if the 
 prisoners can be found not guilty of the crimes with which 
 they are accused, then no one will rejoice or be more glad 
 than myself, for it is always a disagreeable duty to bring 
 accusations against a man. 
 
 " But if, on the other hand, gentlemen of the jury, you 
 should be of opinion that the evidence I am going to pro- 
 duce is of such a character as to fix the impression of their 
 guilt upon your minds, then I will call upon you in the 
 name of justice, and those bonds by which society is linked 
 together, not to shrink, disagreeable though it may be, 
 from returning a verdict in concordance with that impres- 
 sion, in order that the strict letter of the law may be 
 carried out, and in order that others may be deterred by 
 witnessing their deplorable fate from acting in a similar 
 manner." 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution sat down. 
 
 By means of his artfully-woven address, he had managed 
 to turn the tide of popular favour against Jack and his 
 companions, who were now regarded with positive loath- 
 ing and abhorrence by the whole of the spectators. 
 
 A conviction of the guilt of all three had been forced 
 upon the minds of all. 
 
 There was something terribly circumstantial about the 
 whole of the details, and, if the evidence tallied with the 
 statements of the counsel for the prosecution, then it would 
 be impossible for any one to entertain the shadow of a 
 doubt as to their guilt. 
 
 Jack's anxiety increased. 
 
 As he looked round and round the court, attentively 
 scanning each face, the hopes which Mr. Cunningham 
 had caused to spring up in his breast faded one by one 
 away. 
 
 He was not there. 
 
 How was it ? 
 
 Jonathan Wild's face that moment came within the 
 sphere of his vision. 
 
 The thief -taker fixed his eyes exultingly upon him. 
 
 There was upon his face a look of triumphant malignity 
 and satisfaction such as would have befitted the counte- 
 nance of the arch fiend himself. 
 
 In a moment Jack connected the non-appearance of his 
 lawyer and the triumphant expression of the thief-taker's 
 lace, and his heart sank still lower within him. 
 
 Silence was now cried, and then one of the junior 
 counsel got up to call the witnesses. 
 
 But before he spoke, the judge, who had been rapidly 
 taking notes of the main facts in the address of the 
 counsel tor the prosecution, looked up, aud adjusting his 
 spectacles, asked — 
 
 " Who appears for the prisoners ?" 
 
 The question met with no response. 
 
 Then one of the ushers repeated the question in a lew 
 tone of voice. 
 
 Flood and Blewitt shook their heads to imply that no 
 one had beer* employed by them. 
 
 " Some one has been retained to defend me, I believe, 
 but 1 do not see the gentlemen here/' 
 
 "Whowatit?" 
 
 " Mr. Cunningham." 
 
 " But he is a lawyer. Oh ! I suppose he was to instruct 
 the counsel ? " 
 
 " I think that's it." 
 
 " Then shall I call Mr. Cunningham ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you please." 
 
 " Who appears on behalf of the prisoner? " again asked 
 the judge. 
 
 " The two prisoners, Flood and Blewitt, my lord, are 
 an&rfended, and the youngest has employed Mr. Cun- 
 ningham to instruct counsel." 
 
 " Where is Mr. Cunningham ? is he in court ? " 
 
 " Mr. Cunningham ! " shouted the usher. 
 
 But there was still no reply. 
 
 The name was taken up outside, and repeated all over 
 the building. 
 
 There was, however, no response made. 
 
 " Mr. Cunningham does not appear to be in court, my 
 lord." 
 
 " Then the business must go on without him. Perhaps 
 some one will watch the case." 
 
 A young man rose, and sat down again. 
 
 The action was considered sufficient. 
 
 When Jack found that Mr. Cunningham was not 
 present, the little hope that held precariously to his heart 
 deserted him utterly. 
 
 He had no chance now. 
 
 The junior counsel, who had risen to call the witnesses, 
 now cried — 
 
 "Simon Gnoff!" 
 
 " Here," said a wheezy voice, and a man elbowed his 
 way into the witness-box, where he was duly sworn. 
 
 " Is your name Simon Gnoff? " asked the junior 
 counsel. 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 " What are you ? " 
 
 " A watchman, your honour." 
 
 " You need not say your honour every time you reply to 
 me, but simply answer my questions." 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 The counsel smiled, and so did most in the court. 
 
 " You are a watchman, you say. Where is your beat ? " 
 
 H From the railings round St. Clement's-church to the 
 corner of Newcastle-street, your honour." 
 
 " That will do. Now, can you tell me what took place 
 on the night of the tenth of August ? " 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 " Do so, then." 
 
 " It was just turned of midnight, and as I was a coming 
 round the church railings, I heard some one a making a 
 noise in Wych-street. Up I goes, and there I finds Mr. 
 Roots' apprentice a shaking his fists, and swearing hfl'd 
 be revenged on his master." 
 
 "What next?" 
 
 " I went to take him up, your honour." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " And then he knocked me down." 
 
 " Knocked you down ? " 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 There was a general laugh at this, for the watchman 
 was a great bony giant, six feet high at least, by whose 
 side Jack Sheppard looked a pigmy. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD, IN A MOST ARTFUL MANNER, GIVES 
 HIS EVIDENCE AGAINST JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 i " Silence ! " cried the usher. " Si— lence ! '" 
 
 "Can you point out the person who knocked yon 
 down ? " asked the junior counsel, as soon as the laugh 
 had subsided. 
 
 " To be sure I can, your honour. It was young Jack 
 Sheppard. Lor' bless you, I've knowed him years. There 
 he stands." 
 
 " Will you point him out, and swear positively that he 
 was the person you heard vowing to be revenged upon 
 Mr. Roots the carpenter ? " 
 
 " Yes, your honour." 
 
 Tho usher, who was standing near the witness-box, 
 handed the watchman his long white wand, with which he 
 pointed full at Jack Sheppard. 
 
 " That will do," said the young counsel. " Sou ca» 
 stand down."
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCB. 
 
 943 
 
 Mr. Gnoff descended from his elevated position, the 
 counsel who had accepted the duty of watching the case 
 not deeming it necessary to put any further questions 
 to him. 
 
 " Call Jonathan Wild! " cried the counsel. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " repeated the usher. 
 
 In obedience to this call, the celebrated thiei-taker, 
 with an assumption of great humblenesss, tock his place 
 in the witness-box, and when he took the oath, kissed the 
 book in rather an ostentatious manner. 
 
 Then he looked round the court in wna,t he fancied 
 was a very amiable way,, and made a deep circular bow to 
 the assemblage generally. 
 
 " Your name is Jonathan Wild, I presume ? " 
 
 " It is, sir," said Wild, in such a different tone of Toice, 
 that Jack Sheppard could hardly believe it was his enemy 
 who had spoken. 
 
 " Do you know the prisoners at the bar P " 
 
 Before he replied, Jonathan pretended it was necessary 
 for him to scrutinize all three very attentively. 
 
 " Yes," he said, at length, with great deliberation. 
 " Yes, I know them all three." 
 
 " Oh ! very good, then, perhaps you would have no 
 objection to tell the court what do you know about them." 
 
 * Certainly not!" 
 
 " Stay a moment, Mr. Wild ! " said the judge, " t would 
 take notes of what you say ?" 
 
 " Very good, my lord ! 
 
 " Now, go on." 
 
 " Yes, my lord ! the prisoner nearest to me is, I believe, 
 named Matthew Flood !" 
 
 "Matthew Flood!" repeated the judge, as he wrote 
 the name. 
 
 " He was employed by me as a kind of supernumerary 
 police-officer. The same may be said of the man stand- 
 ing next to him, who calls himself William Blewitt !" 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Wild, that will do. Now, what about 
 the other ?" 
 
 " Jack Sheppard ?" 
 
 "If that is his name!" 
 
 " I believe it is, sir ! " 
 
 " What information can you give the court oonoerning 
 him?" 
 
 " A great deal, sir, I am sorry to say, and none that will 
 redound to his credit." 
 
 " Confine yourself to particularities, if you please, Mr. 
 Wild." 
 
 " Certainly, sir. I have known the prisoner from his 
 childhood. I knew his father too." 
 
 " Hold!" shouted Jack, who could restrain himself no 
 longer. Hold ! I say, mention not his name." 
 
 " This interruption is very unseeming on your part, 
 young man," said the judge. " Be silent, sir." 
 
 " We will not mention his father," said Wild. " I was, 
 however, merely going to observe that he was a notorious 
 highwayman, and suffered at Tyburn about twenty years 
 ago." 
 
 Jonathan had gained his point. 
 
 That little bit of family history, he imagined, would 
 tell well with the jury. 
 
 Nor were his calculations far wrong. 
 
 The judge took a note of it. 
 
 The jury exchanged looks, and whispered with each 
 other, and apparently made a note of it also. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Wild, what can you tell us about the prisoner 
 at the bar?" 
 
 " The first I heard of him was in consequence of a 
 burglary, committed at the house of a highly respectable 
 gentleman, named Hadley, which I tracod to him and a 
 man, named Joseph Blake, whom I had dismissed from my 
 employ." 
 
 "What next?" 
 
 " I chased both from one place to another, till at last I 
 came up with them at a ruined abbey on the borders of 
 Gloucestershire, where I captured Sheppard after a most 
 desperate resistance, which resulted in the death of Blake. 
 At least, he was left as such j but it seems, by some means 
 or another, he escaped." 
 
 " Is this man in custody ?" asked the judge. 
 
 "No, my lord, he is not, though a warrant has been 
 issued for his apprehension." 
 
 ■ Go on." 
 
 " I brought Shf ppard a prisoner to Newgate, from 
 which place he managed to make his escape and regain 
 
 his companion, with whom he committed a highway 
 robbery on the Dover road on the following evening." 
 
 " Did you capture them P" 
 
 " Yes, upon Blackfriars-bridge. I overpowered Shep- 
 pard, but Blake threw himself over the parapet into the 
 river. I left the two other prisoners at the bar to keep 
 guard over Sheppard, while I went with the rest and took 
 a boat down the river ; but Blake managed in the end to 
 elude us." 
 
 " You then returned to Blackfriars-bridge, I presume ?" 
 
 " I did, sir, with all speed ; but on reaching it, I found 
 that both prisoner and guard had disappeai'ed. Important 
 business immediately afterwards took me from London, 
 and when I returned, the first intelligence I received was 
 that the three prisoners were safely lodged in Newgate." 
 
 " That is all, Mr. Wild, I suppose." 
 _ " Well, nearly all. I visited Sheppard in his cell last 
 night, in order to learn, if I possibly could, where his 
 comrade iu iniquity was likely to be found. But, taking 
 me off my guard, he made a furious attack upon me with 
 his heavy fetters ; and I have no doubt, had it not been 
 for the timely interposition of the turnkeys, he would have 
 put an end to my life." 
 
 This was another of Jonathan's master-strokes. 
 
 " That js all, Mr. Wild," said the junior counsel, " with- 
 out my friend here for the defence wishes to put any 
 questions to you." 
 
 The young barrister, who had gone through the form of 
 watching the case, shook his head negatively. 
 
 Jonathan left the witness-box in triumph. 
 
 His evidence damaged the prisoners fearfully, and none 
 knew it better than himself. 
 
 " My lord," said the junior counsel, addressing the 
 judge, " I have here the names of several witnesses who 
 will testify to Sheppard having broken out of Newgate, 
 and caused the death of Godfrey, the turnkey ; but as this 
 case is one in which all three are implicated, I imagine 
 the ends of justice will be met by passing over that clause 
 in the indictment, and treating only with this." 
 
 The judge inclined his head. 
 
 " Call Mr. Skellura." 
 
 The police-officer, under whose direetion the little force 
 which had apprehended Jack and his companions was, 
 stepped into the box and was sworn. 
 
 " Will you be good enough, Mr. Skellum, to relate what 
 took place on or about the night of the twenty -fifth of this 
 month." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Begin, then." 
 
 " By instructions received, I went, accompanied by 
 twelve police-officers, to the " Black Lion " public-house, 
 to see if I could find any trace of Jack Sheppard, who had 
 escaped from Newgate." 
 
 " Just so ; go on." 
 
 " Towards morning, as we were going down Wych- 
 street, from the direction of Drury-lane, wo heard an 
 alarm of thieves, and, upon hastening forward, we found 
 the alarm proceeded from the house of John Roots, the 
 carpenter, round whose shop-door a number of people had 
 already assembled." 
 
 " Go on, if you please." 
 
 " Understanding that the robbers were within the house, 
 we were about to effect a forcible entry, when we heard the 
 loud report of a pistol." 
 
 " Who do you mean by wo ? " 
 
 " Myself and my men." 
 
 " Very good ; what next ? " 
 
 " We set to work in good earnest to batter down the 
 door, but, as it was a very strong one, it for some time 
 resisted our efforts. At last we forced it from its 
 hinges." 
 
 " Did you hear anything on the inside." 
 
 "No, sir, all was quiet; but just as we knocked down 
 the door, out rushed the three prisoners ! They fought 
 desperately, and made the strongest efforts to make their 
 escape, but, thanks to the exertions of the men who were 
 with me, they were prevented from achieving their end.' 
 
 " Did you make them all prisoners ? " 
 
 " We did, sir." 
 
 " Turn round and look at the prisoners at the bar. Are 
 you ready to swear that those are the three men whom 
 you captured ? " 
 
 " I am quite ready to swear to them, sir. 
 
 " That is enough. What was the next step you took P n
 
 944 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Having made sure the prisoners were safe, I spoke to 
 half-a-dozen of the officers, and made my way into the 
 house." 
 
 " Did you find anything P " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 b What ? " 
 
 " The body of John Roots ! " 
 
 " Where did you find this ? " 
 
 " At the foot of the staircase." 
 
 " In what condition was it ? " 
 
 " Swimming in blood ! " 
 
 " From whence did the blood proceed r " 
 
 " From a bullet wound in the chest." 
 
 " And you heard a pistol fired while yon were cotside F " 
 
 •« Yes, sir." 
 
 " Did you search the prisoners P " 
 
 " All of them, sir." 
 
 " And did you find them armed with pistols ? ** 
 
 "All carried them, sir. We likewise found in the 
 pockets of Flood and Blewitt a number of bags of money, 
 which can be sworn to as belonging to John Roots." 
 
 " And what did you do upon finding the body in the 
 state you describe ? " 
 
 " I bad him raised up." 
 
 " Was he liviDg ? " 
 
 "Just, sir, and that was all." 
 
 " Was he in possession of his senses ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, sir. He understood me when I spoke to 
 bim. I asked him if it lay in his power to pronounce the 
 oame of his murderer." 
 
 "And did he do so?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Who did he say had done the deed ?" 
 
 "Jack Sheppard!" 
 
 CHAPTER CLXIX. 
 
 ME. JUSTICE POWIS PASSES SENTENCE OF DEATH UPON 
 THB THREE PRISONERS, AND MR. CUNNINGHAM MAKES 
 HIS APPEARANCE WHEN IT IS TOO LATE. 
 
 " Now Mr. Skellum," said the iunior counsel, " this is a 
 very important point. Now, knowing this, are you pre- 
 pared to swear that the name pronounced by Mr. Roots 
 was Jack Sheppard ? " 
 
 " I am, sir, and what is more, the men who were with 
 me will corroborate what I say, for they all heard it as 
 well as myself." 
 
 "Very good, Mr. Skellum. That is sufficient. You 
 then, I presume, conveyed the prisoners to Newgate ? " 
 
 " I did, sir." 
 
 " That will do, then. You can stand down." 
 
 Mr. Skellum accordingly stood down, and several of 
 the officers were called, who swore most positively as to 
 the purport of the last dying words of John Roots. 
 
 They all swore, too, to the identity of the prisoners. 
 In fact, that was a thing which admitted of no dispute. 
 
 This concluded the case for the prosecution, so the 
 young counsel sat down. 
 
 The barrister who had, at the request of the judge, 
 taken upon himself to watch fche case, had certainly done 
 no more, for he had not taken the trouble to interrupt the 
 proceedings once. 
 
 The clerk of the arraigns rase and said — 
 
 " Are there any witnesses for the defence ? " 
 
 Of course a negative was the reply. 
 
 The judge then rapidly commenced turning over the 
 voluminous notes he had taken during the trial. 
 
 At last, having adjusted his spectacles to his satisfac- 
 tion, he commenced summing up. 
 
 The court was intensely silent. 
 
 He spoke in a low tone of voice, but every word he 
 uttered was heard with the utmost distinctness. * 
 " Gentlemen of the jury — 
 
 " It has never fallen to my lot, since I have taken my 
 seat upon this bench, to have a clearer case brought 
 before me than that which has just now been brought to 
 a conclusion. 
 
 " As you are aware, it is my duty, when ramming up, 
 ♦o call your attention to any difficult or doubtful points, or 
 •ny places where the evidence of one witness clashes with 
 that given by another, but, on the present occasion, I 
 have no such duty to perform ; for, from first to last, the 
 case is *s clear and complete as any case could possibly b». 
 
 " The evidence given by the various witnesses has in 
 cveiy instance corresponded, or fitted in, with that given 
 by the rest. 
 
 " It is stated, upon the most incontestible evidence, 
 thai the youngest prisoner at the bar had a feeling of ill- 
 will towards Lis master, John Roots. 
 
 " Whether there was, or whether there was not, any 
 just cause for this ill-will, is quite extraneous to the present 
 inquiry. With the motives which gave rise to it we have 
 nothing whstever to do. It existed, and Sheppard swore 
 to have his revenge. 
 
 " Then we have also, upon the clearest evidence, that a 
 burglary w as committed and John Roots murdered. 
 
 " The alarm was raised, and the three prisoners who 
 stand now before you were taken in the very act of 
 escaping. 
 
 " It will be seen, too, that the crime of murder attacheo 
 itself to the youngest prisoner only, for the murdered man, 
 with his latest breath, declared that he, and he alone, did 
 the deed. 
 
 " But the penalty for both crimes is precisely the same— 
 namely, death." 
 
 "And 1 am bound, also, to add that if you feel any 
 reasonable doubt as to the guilt of either of the prisoners, 
 it is youi duty to give them the benefit of such doubt j 
 but if, on the contrary, you feel that no doubt exists, then 
 it is your duty, as members of that society whose welfare 
 is so essential to you, not to shrink from the recordation 
 of your verdict." 
 
 The jurymen, after the termination of this address, did 
 not pause a moment to deliberate, but just turned round 
 in their seats, and the foreman sat down. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," said the clerk of the arraigns, 
 " have you decided upon your verdict ? " 
 
 " We have." 
 
 " Do you find the prisoners guilty or not guilty ?" 
 
 " We find the prisoners Blewitt and Flood guilty of 
 burglary, and we find the prisoner Sheppard guilty both 
 of burglary and murder ! " 
 
 A moment's silence followed, and then th9 clei k, 
 turning towards the prisoners, asked the stereotyped que.J- 
 tion — 
 
 " Have you anything to say, why sentence should not bo 
 passed upon you P" 
 
 Flood and Blewitt were silent, for they knew it would 
 be perfectly useless to say anything. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard, the moment the question was put, 
 replied to it with extraordinary vehemence. 
 
 "Yes!" he cried, and his voice rang through the 
 crowded court, " Yes, I have a great deal to say why 
 sentence should not be passed upon me ! I declare I am 
 innocent! I have not been fairly tried, and innocent facts 
 have been twisted and contortioned till they have assumed 
 their present shape ! Jonathan Wild is my enemy, and 
 has sworn to hang me ! I am innocent ! 1 am innocent ! " 
 
 The judge paid apparently little or no notice to this 
 appeal. 
 
 He stooped down and fumbled about under his desk. 
 
 He was feeling for the black cap. 
 
 At length he found it, and having adjusted it upon his 
 head, proceeded to pass sentence of death in the usual 
 form. 
 
 " Prisoners at the bar, you have this day been tried by 
 an impartial jury, and found guilty of the crimes of which 
 you severally and jointly stand accused, and all that now 
 remains for-ine to do is to pass sentence of death in the 
 prescribed ifeinner. 
 
 " I cannot do so, however, without expressing my sen- 
 timents upon the matter. In particular, I allude to the 
 youngest prisoner, Jack Sheppard. 
 
 " It is my firm conviction that were wo to look back 
 into the dim ages of the past, and bring to light each in- 
 dividual case of base ingratitude, we should tail to hud 
 one so base, so black, as this unhappy young man's pre- 
 sents- 
 
 " He, besides, seems to have become enamoured oi 
 crime for its own sake alone. The awful fate of his 
 father has not had the effect of deterring him in the 
 least. 
 
 " As the counsel for the prosecution very justly 6aid, 
 under the circumstances, few persons in the city could be 
 found who would be willing to admit him as a member ot 
 their family. But Mr. Roots charitably put all that aside. 
 His intention was to teach him a trade, by which he would
 
 BlfESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 245 
 
 always be able to earn a decent livelihood, and make him 
 a decent member of society. 
 
 " We have seen his reward. 
 
 " And this is the more to be regretted becanse there are 
 many placed in a similar situation through the misdeeds 
 of their parents, and all these will now have to suffer for 
 his misdeeds. 
 
 " Let me earnestly entreat yea, young n?an, to ©ecupy 
 the brief space of time which is allotted to you before you 
 quit this world for ever in religious exercises, and I sin- 
 cerely trust that you will be successful in making your 
 peace with your justly-offended Maker." 
 
 The judge paused, and then addressed himself to Flood 
 and Blewitt. 
 
 " As for you," he said, " no words can sufficiently 
 reprobate your conduct. Your duty was to watch over the 
 reace of this city, and prevent the commission of crime ; 
 out, so far from doing so, you have collogued with another, 
 and set the example of committing it. No pity can be 
 felt for either of you, and I have never been more recon- 
 ciled to the disagreeable duty I am now performing than 
 I am upon this occasion. 
 
 " The sentence of this court upon you is, that you be 
 removed from the bar at which you now stand, and taken 
 to the place from which you came, and thence to the 
 place of common execution, where you are to be hanged 
 by the neck until you are dead, and may the lord have 
 mercy on your souls ! " 
 
 A deep and awful silence followed the pronunciation of 
 this sentence, but before the prisoners could be removed a 
 great hubbub arose at the entrance to the court. 
 
 Then a man in a state of the greatest possible excite- 
 ment, rushed in. 
 
 Jack knew him at a glance. 
 
 It was Mr. Cunningham. 
 
 " My lord, my lord ! " he cried, " my lord, I appeal to 
 you. I was engaged to defend the prisoner at the bar, 
 but some of his enemies, fearing the result of my inter- 
 position, decoyed me away, and I have only just been able 
 to return. I find I am too late. My lord, I believe in 
 the innocence of my client." 
 
 The judge moved his lips, and the desire to know what 
 be had to say was strong enough to make Mr. Cunningham 
 silent. 
 
 The jailers, too, whose duty it was to remove Jack from 
 the dock to the condemned hold, paused to see how this 
 new phase in the proceedings would eventuate. 
 
 " Mr. Cunningham," said the judge, " you are in a state 
 of great excitement, and only partly conscious, doubtless, 
 of what you are about. For that reason I will look over 
 the breach of etiquette you have committed in bursting 
 into the court in so unceremonious a manner. Your 
 client — if such he is — has been fairly and impartially tried 
 for the crimes of which he stood accused. He has been 
 found guilty, and the last sentence of the law been passed 
 upon him, and you must know that in criminal cases there 
 is no appeal." 
 
 "But, my lord" 
 
 " As to your having been decoyed away by 60me one 
 inimical to the prisoner, that has nothing to do here. You 
 must bring that charge at another time and place. Usher, 
 clear the court ! " 
 
 The judge rose abruptly from his seat, and pushing 
 aside a crimson curtain, vanished from view. 
 
 Behind that curtain was a room, upon a table in the centre 
 of which were some very delicate and tempting refresh- 
 ments, provided at the expense of the good city « London 
 for his refection. 
 
 He sat down to a calm discussion of these, a* though 
 nothing at all was the matter. 
 
 In the meantime Mr. Cunningham was hustled G3$ ef 
 court. 
 
 Jack was tapped on the shoulder by one of the turn- 
 keys. 
 
 It was vain to resist. 
 
 Besides, he was crushed in spirit. 
 
 He accompanied them without a word, and in less than 
 five minutes was an inmate of the condemned hold in 
 Newgate. 
 
 Jonathan Wild triumphed at last 
 
 CHAPTER CLXX. 
 
 A VEB* STRANGE AND MYSTERIOUS EVENT HAPPENS AT 
 JONATHAN'S HOUSE WHILE HE IS ABSENT AT THE 
 1KIA1. 
 
 On the morning upon which the trial took place, a great 
 deal of gossip was goiug on in Wild's house. 
 
 Upon one point all, however, quite agreed, and that 
 was, that all three would be found guilty and condemned. 
 
 Knowing that Jonathan would not return for some 
 time, they thought the opportunity of making merry 
 should not be lost, so one of the number was sent over to 
 the " Magpie." 
 
 On his return, he brought with him a plentiful supply 
 of drink, so all the men who were in the house sat down 
 to enjoy it. 
 
 There were several present whose names are familiar to 
 to the readers of this history. 
 
 For instance, there was Tonks, and Wilkinson, and 
 Levee, and Arnold. 
 
 " Who is this new hand Johnny has taken on ? " asked 
 the latter. 
 
 " I dou't know." 
 
 " He seems rather a queer fish, don't he P " 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " Well, where is he ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Who hag seen him this morning ? " 
 
 No one had. 
 
 " Perhaps Johnny has sent him cut on some business oi 
 other." 
 
 " May be. But I say, mates — " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Keep a sharp look out on what you do. He aint one 
 of us, that's certain, and he's sure to turn spy." 
 
 " Well, he had better not be caught at it, that's all." 
 
 " Be careful — that's the best plan. He's too civil and 
 too humble by half." 
 
 " Curse him, he's an interloper. Can't we invent some 
 way of getting shut of him ? " 
 
 " I don't knew." 
 
 " I should think we coald, if we tried." 
 
 " I can't help thinking it very strange he is not here 
 this morning. I don't believe he has been sent out." 
 
 " Well, we shall see. It aint often, mates, that we havo 
 an opportunity of carousing together, like we have this 
 morning, and so don't let a lubber like that spoil our 
 fun." 
 
 " No, no ! Bravo ! all right ! we wont ! Hurrah ! 
 Here's success to Jonathan Wild, and long life to him, the 
 villain ! " 
 
 At this moment there came a slight tap at the outer 
 door. 
 
 Commonplace as was the sound, yet it made all start 
 and look terrified. 
 
 It was Wilkinson who rose and opened the door. 
 
 One of the band entered. 
 
 He had been at the court. 
 
 " Is the case on ? " 
 
 " Yes, mates." 
 
 " Well, how are they bringing it in ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, Johnny's giving his blessed evidence. 
 Lor' ! how I wish you could see him. It's a sight to look 
 upon, I can tell you; he's the very image of a lamb." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " Why do you laugh ? " 
 
 " At the idea of Jonathan being a lamb." 
 
 " Well, he is ; and ain't be a gammoning the judge S 
 The day will go against Jack Sheppard as safe as eggs." 
 
 " Oh ! we all knew that — we "— — — 
 
 The speaker paused. 
 
 He was interrupted in what he was going to say by a 
 shriek so loud, so shrill, so awful, that all those bold and 
 hardened men were riveted to their seats, so appalling 
 was the sound. 
 
 Ere, however, it could fairly die away, the shriek was 
 followed by another, in a very different note. 
 
 This last shriek, too, differed from the former mate- 
 rially. 
 
 The first was a prolonged sound. 
 
 The latter a succession of short screams. 
 
 The men now recovered a little from their surprise, and 
 sprang to their feet. 
 
 " Good God ! " said one, " what's that ? " 
 
 A loud crash followed his ejaculatory question.
 
 * 846 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 " Murder ! " cried another ; " it's murder ! " 
 
 "Murder, wliere?" 
 
 " It is upstairs. I'm sure the sound cama from up- 
 stairs. There's something going on there that ought not 
 to be." 
 
 " What shall we do ?" 
 
 " Fetch Jonathan." 
 
 " No, no ; let us go up and find out what it ia. It will 
 be time enough to send for Jonathan then." 
 
 " So it will. Come along." 
 
 Upon this, the whole of the men made their way in a 
 dense throng to the foot of the stairs. 
 
 They began to ascend very rapidly, but as they pot 
 higher and higher their speed abated. 
 
 The first landing was almost total darkness. 
 
 But one of them, bolder than the rest, threw open a door 
 leading into a room in the front of the house. 
 
 A broad beam of light streamed through it. 
 
 Ejaculations of alarm and terror burst from their lips. 
 
 It revealed, lying at the foot of the second flight of 
 stairs, a female form, in a strangely huddled-up attitude. 
 
 Blood was upon her clothing in many places. 
 
 For a moment all stood looking on in silence. 
 
 They were almost afraid to speak. 
 
 Presently one asked — 
 
 "Who is it?" 
 
 The question aroused the others, and two or three at 
 once sprang forward, and tried to lift the prostrate form. 
 
 Upon doing so, her face was turned towards the light. 
 
 " Hallo ! " said the one who first saw it. " May I be 
 scragged if it ain't Mary Milliner ! " 
 
 "Mary Milliner?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You don't say so ! " 
 
 They all crowded forward in order to obtain a better 
 view. 
 
 But the inspection only served to confirm what their 
 companion had said. 
 
 It was Mary Milliner. 
 
 A groan came from her lips when she was touched, and 
 heaving a deep sigh, she expired. 
 
 " Dead as a nut ! " 6aid the one who had raised her up, 
 and as he spoke, he let go her head, which fell with a dis- 
 agreeable dab upon the edge of the bottom stair. 
 
 " What's the meaning of this ? " 
 
 " Shall we send for Johnny ? " 
 
 " She's quite dead," said another. " Well, well ! I 
 thought she was very bad in the doctor's hands. What 
 made her fall down stairs, and break her blessed neck like 
 that for ? " 
 
 " But I don't believe she did fall down." 
 
 " Why not ?" 
 
 " Didn't we hear two screams." 
 
 " To be sure we did." 
 
 " And the first scream warn'fc a bit like f other." 
 
 " No, it was not." 
 
 " We haven't heard all." 
 
 " That's quite certain." 
 
 " Let's go on." 
 
 "Up higher?" 
 
 " You go first." 
 
 " No, you." 
 
 At last, in a body, as before — having first racved the 
 body of Jonathan's mistress out of their way — they 
 ascended the next flight of stairs. 
 
 But upon reaching the top, all was still. 
 
 There were no signs of violence, nor any sounds in- 
 dicative of it. 
 
 This landing, too, was better lighted than the other, so 
 when another door was opened, they were able to s«9 
 all about it quite plainly. 
 
 The first place to which all simultaneously turned ineir 
 eyes, was the little flight of stairs leading up to the 
 attics. 
 
 But at the foot of these there was not, as they had all 
 expected, another ghastly-looking female form. 
 " What are we to make of this, mates ?" 
 " Go higher. It's no good stopping here." 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 The attics were reached and searched. 
 But nothing whatever out of place was found. 
 Puzzled and bewildered, the men went down again to 
 the second landing. 
 
 Here two or three loss adventurous than their coni* 
 pani.ons had lingered. 
 
 " There's nothing up above. We've searched ev-ar» 
 part ?" 
 
 " What are we to make of it ?" 
 
 " It's very strange." 
 
 "Very." 
 
 " W.y inside is all of a tremble." 
 
 " Si» .8 mine." 
 
 " Let ue look about us. What door is that open ?" 
 
 "The one leading into her room." 
 
 "Whose?" 
 
 " Mary Milliner's." 
 
 " Let us go in." 
 
 They did so, but nothing whatever that would tend to 
 explain what they had seen met their view. 
 
 The apartment afforded every indication of having been 
 recently occupied, but there was nothing to indicate that 
 its inmate had left it under any peculiar circumstances. 
 
 There was no elucidation of the mystery there. 
 
 The men were more terrified than ever. 
 
 They went out again on to the landing. 
 
 Two other doors, leading into bedrooms, opened from it. 
 
 One of these they looked into and fourid empty. 
 
 The other was the one in which Edg worth Bess was 
 confined. 
 
 The door of this was locked, and they found it impos- 
 sible to obtain an entrance. 
 
 Jonathan had the key. 
 
 But they knocked upon the panel. 
 
 No sound was returned. 
 
 The summons was repeated, but with the same result. 
 
 A consultation now took place, which terminated with 
 their going down to the second landing. 
 
 Here they found the body of the thief-taker's paramour 
 in the same way as they had left it. 
 
 But, though she was beyond all question quite dead, 
 yet there was nothing whatever to show by what means 
 her death had been brought about. 
 
 Moreover, upon making a closer examination, they 
 found a longblack-hafted knife sticking in her breast, and 
 it was from this wound that the blood upon her clothing 
 had come. 
 
 " Let us leave her just as she is," said Quilt Arnold. 
 " Don't any of you touch her. I will run round to the 
 sessions-house, and tell Jonathan what has happened." 
 
 He started off as he spoke, and soon afterwards returned 
 with the thief-taker, who left the court the moment after 
 sentence was pronounced. 
 
 A look of great anxiety was on his face. 
 
 The mysterious occurrence troubled him not a little. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXI. 
 
 SHOWS HOW THE PRESENCE OF STEGGS IN THE THIEF- 
 TAKER'S HOUSE TURNED OUT A FORTUNATE CIRCUM- 
 STANCE FOR EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 Steggs had a difficult part to play. 
 
 Jonathan's regular men looked upon him with the 
 greatest suspicion and distrust. 
 
 But he was so very humble to all of them, that they 
 could do nothing. 
 
 Almost the first discovery he had made, after being in- 
 stalled in his new place, was that Jonathan had a prisoner 
 upstairs. 
 
 But he did not know who. 
 
 His heart, however, whispered to him that it was poor 
 Edgworth Bess, whom now, to give the man credit, he 
 was more willing to help and serve than he had been for- 
 merly to persecute. 
 
 Should his surmise as to who Jonathan's prisoner was 
 turn out to be cc/rect, he would have to keep the strictest 
 possible watch aver his behaviour, or he would not be able 
 to render her much assistance. 
 
 Upon the morning when the trial took place, Steggs 
 managed to withdraw himself from his companions. _ 
 
 He crept upstairs, and hid himself in Jonathan's private 
 room. 
 
 Then, when he had ascertained that the thief-taker had 
 left the house, and would be absent from it for several 
 hours, he proceeded to put a pre-detormined plan into 
 execution. 
 
 Leaving his hiding-plate, he e?«pt stealthily op the 
 second flight of stain.
 
 BIDESKIN : A HOMANte. 
 
 8*7 
 
 Upon reaching the top he paused, for he heard a faint 
 movement. 
 
 The stairs were dark, so he crouched down upon them. 
 
 Some one was coming. 
 
 One of the doors upon the landing opened. 
 
 Crouching down still lower, he watched and waited. 
 
 A woman came forth. 
 
 Who she was Steggs had no idea. 
 
 Her proportions were rather immense, and she was 
 what many would call a fine-looking woman. 
 
 The reader will no doubt judge this was Mary Milliner. 
 
 And so it was. 
 
 The little fracas between her and her amiable consort 
 is, doubtless, fresh in the recollection of the reader. 
 
 Upon the occasion referred to, Jonathan had drawn his 
 sword and transfixed her with it. 
 
 She was then handed over to Mr. Snoxall, under 
 whose care she remained for some time in a very preca- 
 rious condition. But at length she nearly recovered from 
 the effects of the wound. 
 
 She was, however, afraid to show her face to the thief- 
 taker, for fear he should treat her to some further ill- 
 usage. 
 
 It was not long, however, before she learned that 
 Jonathan had brought home a female prisoner, and con- 
 fined her in the room adjoining hers. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall, of course, was her informant. 
 
 From him she elicited these important facta. 
 
 The female prisoner was young. 
 
 She was fair. 
 
 She was beautiful. 
 
 She was ill, and Jonathan had manifested the greatest 
 desire to have her brought to a proper state of health. 
 
 Moreover, that he had offered the man of physic the 
 very large sum of two hundred pounds if he was suc- 
 cessful. 
 
 Now, when we take into consideration the position 
 which Mary Milliner held. 
 
 And the violence of her temper. 
 
 We shall certainly see cause enough for her to be sud- 
 denly inflamed with jealousy. 
 
 In fact, it amounted to a frenzy. 
 
 Woman like, she jumped immediately to the conclusion 
 that her Jonathan had brought her there with matri- 
 monial designs. 
 
 She did not, however, take into calculation that the 
 prisoner might have the greatest possible aversion to her 
 jailer. 
 
 She did not think she would sooner suffer a thousand 
 deaths than become the bride of such a man. 
 
 On the contrary, she thought she would, to use her own 
 expression, jump at the offer as soon as it was made her. 
 
 But she determined she would have no rivals in the 
 affection of her Jonathan. 
 
 Accordingly, on that mornisg — an eventful one it seemed 
 destined to be — she resolved to put an end to the prisoner's 
 existence. 
 
 Arming herself with a knife, and uttering some very 
 diabolical threats, she emerged from hei own room. 
 
 Steggs, however, had not the advantage the reader has, 
 of being in possession of the facts which have gone 
 before, and though he heard her muttering to herself 
 about something, and was able even to catch a word here 
 and there, he could not, for the life of him, think what she 
 was after. 
 
 He fancied at first that she was going to descend the 
 stairs, but he found she passed the top of them, and 
 went to the door which Steggs knew perfectly well, 
 opened into the chamber occupied by Edgworth Boss. 
 
 His heart beat rather painfully when he saw this, but 
 felt thankful he was at hand to protect, in case any danger 
 (hould threaten her. 
 
 And now Mary Milliner, after a good deal of fumbling, 
 produced a skeleton-key from her pocket, with which she 
 unlocked the door. 
 
 No sound followed this movement, and after ft little 
 hesitation, the woman entered. 
 
 Steggs crawled swiftly and stealthily forward. 
 He knew the difficulties of his situation. 
 But, just as he reached the door, that horrible scream 
 nad arisen, whose ear-piercingness had so startled the 
 janizaries who were carousing below. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was sleeping when Jonathan's mistress 
 unlocked the door. 
 
 Mr. Snoxell had administered a narcotic the night 
 before, and she had not yet recovered from its effects. 
 
 But the slight clicking of the lock partially arouBed 
 her. 
 
 The footsteps of her foe completely did so. 
 
 She opened her eyes,, and looked up. 
 
 To her unbounded surprise, she saw a huge woman 
 leaning over her. 
 
 It was under the impulse of the moment that she 
 uttered the scream. 
 
 There was something in the expression of the woman's 
 face, and a baleful look in her eyes, which frightened her. 
 
 Steggs bounded forward. 
 
 He was just in time. 
 
 Mary Milliner had drawn the knife with which she had 
 provided herself from its sheath in the bosom of her 
 dress. 
 
 She held it suspended in the air. 
 
 Another moment, and it would have been brought down 
 wkh the fuD strength of her powerful arm upon the breast 
 of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 But, ere she could achieve her fell intent, Steggs had 
 grasped her wrists. 
 
 He coold not prevent it descending, however, but he 
 averted it. 
 
 It sank deeply into the clothing of the bed. 
 
 Then he shifted his grasp from her wrist to her neck, 
 and a furious struggle commenced. 
 
 It was during that struggle that Mary Milliner uttered 
 the short, sharp, shrill screams. 
 
 But Steggs quickly found that, in point of mere bodily 
 strength, he was no match for his opponent; and there- 
 fore, with great suddenness, he drew the knife from the 
 bed, and plunged it into her breast. 
 
 The blow was almost immediately fatal. 
 
 The blade had reached some vital part. 
 
 Then Steggs thought how awkwardly he was situated. 
 
 What should he do ? 
 
 How should he avert suspicion from himself ? 
 
 An idea flashed across his fertile brain in a moment, and 
 he at once proceeded to carry it out. 
 
 He dragged the now almost helpless woman from the 
 room. 
 
 Then to the top of the stairs. 
 
 Exerting his whole strength, he then picked her up and 
 pitched her over the balusters. 
 
 She fell to the bottom of the flight, a distance of twelva 
 feet at least, like a log of wood. 
 
 So far, then, all was well ; but then Steggs knew that 
 an alarm would be immediately raised, the body found, 
 and the upper portion of the house thoroughly searched. 
 
 Should he be discovered, suspicion would at once fall 
 upon him. 
 
 What excuse could he make to account for his position 
 there ? 
 
 None. 
 
 At least, none that would be satisfactory. 
 
 Where was he to conceal himself. 
 
 Hiding-places in plenty there no doubt were, but then 
 was there one which would not be pried into ? 
 
 Hastening back to the door of Edgworth Bess's room, 
 he took the skeleton-key out of the lock, where Mary 
 Milliner had left it sticking, and, entering the chambers, 
 close the door after him. 
 
 Then he locked it on the inner side, and returned the key 
 to his pocket. 
 
 Feeble as Edgworth Bess was, she saw that the actions 
 of Steggs were the actions of a friend and not a foo 
 
 Besides, had he not saved her from a horrible death ? 
 
 Approaching the bedside he said, in a low emphatie 
 tone. 
 
 " Do not cry out or make the least nois«. In me you 
 see a friend who will defend you to the fun extend of his 
 ability. But I cannot single-handed fight against so 
 many." 
 
 " What is it ? Tell me, I cannot think." 
 
 She pressed her hands over her eyes, as she spoke in 
 ' 'the manner of one much confused. 
 
 " Wait a little," said Steggs, " Hark, cannot you new 
 them coming?" . 
 
 The trampling of many footsteps on the stairs followed 
 his question. 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! I hear them. 
 
 " Be silent, then, and I will tell you all presently. If
 
 BLUESKIS: A JtOMANCE. 
 
 anyone knocks, do not reply to them. Jonathan himself 
 is from home. If anyone enters, profess entire ignorance 
 of everything. Do you understand me ?" 
 
 w Quite." 
 
 " Good, then I will conceal myself, and now be silent. 
 If our voices were heard, we should he ruined." 
 
 With the foreboding feeling at his heart that he was 
 
 foing to find that something dreadful had happened, 
 qnathan Wild made his way upstairs to the room con- 
 taining his fair prisoner. 
 He thrust the proper key into the lock. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXTI. 
 
 SHOWS THE READER THE CAPITAL PLAN WHICH BLUE- 
 SKIN DEVISED FOR JACK'S ESCAPE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard is in the condemned hold, as that'portion 
 of the prison was called which was exclusively set aside 
 for the reception of those upon whom the dread sentence 
 of death had been passed. 
 
 The time has passed wearily for him, and as minute 
 after minute elapsed, he felt that he was hastening to his 
 doom. 
 
 He had given up all hopes of making his escape. 
 
 The large cell in which he was placed was shared by 
 his two comrades in guilt, and three turnkeys, who were 
 relieved every two hours. 
 
 Thus they were never suffered to be alone. 
 
 At length the morrow, which was Friday, cam*. 
 
 The day wore away. 
 
 Jack heard of no one. 
 
 Several, however, had come to visit Flood and Blewitt. 
 
 It must be understood that just inside the door by which 
 prisoners were admitted, and which was placed^at the top 
 of a little flight of stone steps leading down into the Old 
 Bailey, was a kind of vaulted apartment or vestibule 
 generally known among the officials as " the lodge." 
 
 When you stood inside this place, and the door hy which 
 you had entered closed, you would have seen several other 
 doors. 
 
 One led into a little ante or waiting-room, which had 
 been fitted up for the accommodation of such turnkeys as 
 might be off duty. 
 
 Another led to the governor's house, and three or four 
 more to different parts of the huge building. 
 
 But just opposite " the wicket," for so the door leading 
 into the street was designated, was a door of so peculiar a 
 character that we are obliged to describe it. 
 
 It was formed of bars of iron laid crosswise, ono over 
 the other, so as to form a kind of network. 
 
 When any visitors came, they had to stand in front of 
 this grating, while the prisoners in the condemned hold 
 were allowed to go up a flight of steps and stand on the 
 other side of it. 
 
 In this way the conversation took place, with the bars 
 between them. 
 
 Blewitt and Flood then, as we have said, had been per- 
 mitted to go up to this grating several times, aa one or 
 other of their friends came to see them. 
 
 But no one came to see Jack until just hefore the 
 closing hour on Friday night, when the agreeable intel- 
 ligence was brought to him that some visitors were waiting 
 for him. 
 
 Like the rest, he ascended the flight of steps. 
 
 To his surprise and disappointment, he found his 
 visitors were two gaunt-looking, shabbily-dressed women, 
 who sent up a howl of lamentation as soon as they saw 
 him approach. 
 
 Jack's quickness of perception immediately showed him 
 that there was something more in this than met the eye. 
 
 He pressed himself, therefore, as closely as he could 
 against the bars, and scrutinized their features narrowly. 
 
 One of the women did the same as he did— namely, 
 press against the bars, while the other set up a more 
 lugubrious howling than before. 
 
 " Jack ! " said a voice, which Sheppard instantly 
 recognised. " Make no movement, utter no exclamation 
 of surpri«e at seeing me in this disguise, but it is the best 
 I could think of. Jack, I have come to help you to 
 escape ! " 
 
 Escape T How the word thrilled through every nerve in 
 Jack's body. 
 
 And who was it that spoke ? 
 
 "Blueskin!" 
 
 " I couldn't eome before, Jack, nor I couldn't think of 
 anything, but now I've got a scheme all cut and dried. I 
 can't give you full explanation, but we must set about it 
 at once. We can talk the while." 
 
 " But what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " I will toll you. Howl away," he added, to the other 
 female, who was no other than the landlord of the " Black 
 Lion." 
 
 " Jack." 
 
 " Yes, Blue" 
 
 " Do you see the top of the door ? • 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " The spikes, I mean." 
 
 " Yes— yes." 
 
 " Do you think you could squeeze between them if one 
 was taken out ? " 
 
 With a beating heart Jack looked up before he replied 
 to this question. 
 
 Along the cross-barred iron gate which we have de- 
 scribed, was a row of sharp iron spikes. 
 
 They were seven in number. 
 
 Jack measured the distance. 
 
 " I think I could get through if the middle one was 
 broke off, but how can it be done ? We shall be seen." 
 
 " Leave that to me," said Blueskin, " so long as you 
 can through. Look here." 
 
 As he spoke he produced from beneath his clothes a 
 curious looking instrument. 
 
 It was a miniature saw, of the kind used for sawing 
 timber into planks, and used by two men. 
 
 It was, however, formed of the finest-tempered steel. 
 
 Its length seven or eight inches at the utmost. 
 
 One side was cut into a number of fine sharp teeth. 
 
 " Now, Jack ! " said Blueskin, " there's the little tool 
 that will help you to escape." 
 
 "Take hold of your end through the bars, so, that's it. 
 I will take hold of the other. Place it close to the bottom 
 of the middle spike and draw it gently backwards and 
 forwards. It won't make much noise, because it is well 
 oiled, and you will see how soon it will be through the 
 spike. As soon as it is we will pull you down. Now 
 then, set about it. Howl, Joe." 
 
 Joe did howl, and Jack, with fresh hopes in his breast, 
 caught hold of one end of the tiny saw, and commenced 
 drawing it backwards and forwards in the manner that 
 his friend Blueskin had directed. 
 
 As he had told him, the sound which it produced was 
 slight indeed, and such as would not be likely to attract 
 observation. 
 
 And besides, the landlord, by keeping up a continual 
 affectation of intense grief, drowned all slight noises. 
 
 " Where is Edgworth Bess ? " was Jack s first question 
 when the saw had fairly got to work. 
 
 " In Wild's power." 
 
 Jack groaned. 
 
 But his companion noticed that he worked with greater 
 eagerness than before. 
 
 It was astonishing to see with what rapidity the saw 
 cut into the spike. 
 
 One would have thought it was wood. 
 
 But then the iron of which it was composed was of the 
 softest character. 
 
 The turnkeys were about, and though several of them 
 looked, not one noticed what was going forward. 
 
 At length the time came for the prison to be closed. 
 
 The spike was almost sawn through, but not quite. 
 
 " We can't manage it to-night, Jack," said Blueskin. 
 " We had better give up at once. It's no use spoiling a 
 go-jd thing." 
 
 " But it will be noticed." 
 
 " What ? the place we have been at work upon ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Pho, pho, no danger ! Let go of your end." 
 
 Jack did so. 
 
 Blueskin next rubbed what grease there was clinging to 
 the bar, and the fine dust that had mixed with it in the 
 crevice in the spike, and then what they had done was 
 imperceptible. 
 
 " There you are, Jack. Now he down to-night with 
 a lightened heart. You will be all right to-morrow." 
 
 " You will come again P " 
 
 "Oh! trust us." 
 
 " Now thenj you women," said one of the turnkey*, ia
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE, 
 
 249 
 
 [EDGWORTH BESS IMPLORES STEGGS TO SAVE HER FROM JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 a surly voice, " time's up. and you must be off at once." 
 
 " Good-bye, Jack," said Joe Johnson, in a cbokiug 
 voice, which was admirably assumed. Good bye, Jack." 
 
 " Good-bye," said Sheppard. 
 
 As tor Blueskin, he did not speak. He was fearful if 
 he did that some tone of his voice might be recognised, so 
 be contented himself with waving his hand. 
 - The man on the lock was well known to him. 
 "* He had seen him a hundred times, aud he felt far from 
 comfortable when he saw him hold open the door to allow 
 them to pass out. 
 
 But, with ready thought, he drew from his pocket a 
 dilapidated handkerchief, and buried his face in it, pre- 
 tending to be overcome with grief. 
 
 In this he was followed by Joe Johnson, who set up in 
 addition one of those dismal and awful howls of his, which 
 echoed through the prison. 
 
 " Now, you old woman, be off," said the turnkey. " 1 t's 
 u.) good your howlmg and snivelling. Scragged he will 
 <e to a certainty." 
 
 " Oh ! my poor dear Jack," moaned Johnson, makiug a 
 movement as though it was his intention to return to the 
 grating and take another farewell of the prisoner. 
 
 But the turnkey rudely pushed him towards the steps, 
 and closed the door after him in such a manner that Joe 
 was obliged either to descend the steps of his own accord, 
 or be thrust down them. 
 
 Of course he preferred aDd adopted the first alterna- 
 tive. 
 
 Both the plotters were delighted with the success which 
 had hitherto attended their daring enterprize. * 
 
 They crossed over to the Old Bailey, and, upon turrnDg 
 the corner of Fleet-lane, where he felt certain none ot the 
 officials of the prison could see him, Joe slapped his com- 
 rade on the back and indulged in a loud laugh, to the no 
 small astonishment of a boy who happened to be by. 
 
 But Blake administered rather a severe caution, for they 
 were not yet in a position to triumph, though certainly 
 they had got on very well so far. 
 
 In spite, however, of all he could say, Johnson was 
 
 No. 32.
 
 MO 
 
 BLTJESKIH : A ROMANCE. 
 
 unable to control his laughter, which, though not so 
 vehement as before, had subsided into a very audible 
 chuckle. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIII. 
 
 THH CONDEMNED HOLD IN NEWGATE. BOB BAINS RE- 
 LATES THE STORY OF HELL-AND-FURY. 
 
 With what different feelings Jack Sheppard left the 
 grating and returned to the condemned coll ! 
 
 When he emerged from that gloomy habitation he had 
 almost lost all hope. 
 
 He had already begun to feel resigned to his fate. 
 
 But what a change there was now. 
 
 It seemed, indeed, as though he was already at liberty. 
 
 He was careful, however, to conceal his elation, and he 
 changed the expression of his countenance to one of sombre 
 despair. 
 
 His footsteps, which upon the first impulse had been 
 springy and elastic, he altered also. 
 
 Any change in his demeanour would, ho knew well 
 •nough, be immediately noticed by those who were ap- 
 pointed to keep guard over him, and, if it was of a hope- 
 ful character, they would immediately conjecture that he 
 anticipated making his escape, and such a watch would be 
 kept upon his movements as to make it impossible. 
 
 Already, in consequence of his former daring feat, they 
 xrere unusually vigilant, and his besb policy evidently was 
 to act in such a manner as would cause them to abate that 
 vigilance rather than increase it. 
 
 Fully alive to all this, Jack re-entered the condemned 
 hold. 
 
 His appearance would have deceived the acutest ob- 
 server, so admirably did he counterfeit deep and hopeless 
 grief. 
 
 He walked in and sat down on the stone bench 
 assigned to him with the air of one who has done with 
 life. 
 
 But he brooded over the plan his friends had formed, 
 and weighed in a more accurate balance his chances of 
 escape. 
 
 It grew dark rapidly, until at length those six persons 
 who sat in that dreary place were unable to distinguish 
 the outlines of each other's faces. 
 
 Then, and not till then, for he felt it would bo a relief 
 to do so, Jack permitted his countenance to be the true 
 index of his thoughts. 
 
 The more he pondered upon the plan, the more feasible 
 it seemed. 
 
 Daring he had in plenty to enable him to attempt it, 
 and, b'32ides, he had this incentive that, let him do what 
 he might, they could only hang him. The chances were 
 all in favour of his bettering his position, and none for 
 making it worse. 
 
 Then he thought of the poor heiress, Edgworth Bess, 
 who had made so deep an impression on his heart, and, in 
 epite of his self-command, he was almost betrayed into 
 uttering a bitter execration upon the head of her perse- 
 cutor and captor. 
 
 Fortunately, however, he controlled himself and was 
 silent, though mentally he heaped up curses on his head. 
 
 But still he had hopes that that providence or good for- 
 tnne, which had hitherto watched over her, would con- 
 tinue to keep her under its care. 
 
 Blueskin, who felt almost as great an interest in her 
 welfare as he did, knew where she was, and would nc* he 
 do everything he could to shield her from the machina- 
 tions of the thief-taker ? 
 
 He consoled himself with the idea that he would. 
 
 By that time to-morrow he himself would be at free- 
 dom, and then he should be content. 
 
 How long the time would seem, though, before that 
 morrow came ! What a many long weary hours would 
 have to pass away before it came. 
 
 He resolved — and wisely — to determine in what manner 
 he should employ himself as soon as he got free, and what 
 should be the first step he should take. 
 
 With Blewitt and Flood the case was very different. 
 
 A change had come over them, but it was a change in 
 no way resembling that which had come over Jack. ^ 
 
 They had given up all hope. 
 
 They had come to the clear and definite conclusion that 
 no ehain of events, however remarkable, could avert 
 their doom. 
 
 They were as certain they should die at the appointed 
 time as they were that they were then in existence. 
 
 But instead of this conviction abasing them, as one 
 would naturally suppose it would have done, they, with a 
 rude and wild philosophy, determined that what littl* 
 space of life remained to them they would enjoy and pass 
 in the most agreeable manner they possibly could. 
 
 There were many obstacles in their way, but then, as 
 we have before stated, they had been visited during the 
 day by several of their companions, who had supplied 
 them with money. 
 
 Under the old criminal code there was, as is well known, 
 many abuses, and not the loast of them was allowing 
 prisoners to receive money, with which they could 
 purchase whatever they thought proper. 
 
 And with those condemned to die a greater licence was 
 allowed than with any others. Indeed, they were per- 
 mitted to have just whatever they liked at their country's 
 expense. 
 
 This is how it is when, in reading over the criminal 
 annals of the past century, we find malefactors going to 
 the scaffold in a state of intoxication. 
 
 Some even were all but incapable of motion, and almost 
 deprived of sense, but the ebriety generally manifested 
 itself in acts of ridiculous and disgusting bravado. 
 
 The first use, then, which Flood and Blewitt made of 
 the money they had received was to hand it to one of the 
 turnkeys, and order a quantity of drink. 
 
 This was fetched in, and the wretched prisoners, and 
 those who had been appointed to watch over them, joined 
 in a debauch. 
 
 The night was spent in the most boisterous revelry — 
 singing songs at the top of their lungs, and telling tales in 
 the lives of notorious depredators. 
 
 Jack had, of course, been asked to join the company, 
 and judging that he should best keep off suspicion by con- 
 senting, he did so. 
 
 A steaming glass of hot gin and water was placed 
 before him, and a regular carouse began. 
 
 No one would ever have dreamed that three of that 
 bacchanalian company had been doomed to die in so 
 short a time. 
 
 But so it was. 
 
 The picture we have drawn is neither an exaggerated 
 nor an untrue one. 
 
 The glasses were filled and emptied with extraordinary 
 rapidity, and the more rapidly these processes were gone 
 through the more uproarious did the company become. 
 
 Louder and louder grew the peals of laughter as the 
 fiery stimulant mounted to their brains. 
 
 At length, one of the officers put his empty glass down 
 on the table, and smacking his lips with satisfaction, 
 said — 
 
 " Ah ! my lads, this is what I call fun, and no gammon ! 
 That's the style to do it ! Why, I never recollect but one 
 jolly set out like this here." 
 
 " When was that ? " asked Blewitt. 
 
 " Oh ! many a year back now. That was a lark, I can 
 tell you ! " 
 
 " Order — order ! " cried the voices ; " order, everybody ! 
 Order for Bob Bains ! He's going to tell us a story." 
 
 By degrees silence was obtained. 
 
 " Oh ! it ain't no story particular that I've got to tell 
 yon," said the officer who had first spoken, and who had 
 been called by his comrades Bob Bains ; " but I recohect 
 now a matter of fourteen year ago, when a werry remark- 
 able character was ketched, and brought to the old aione 
 jug." 
 
 "Who was he?" 
 
 " You mean, what was his name ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Ah l that's what I can't tell you." 
 
 " Can't tell ks ? 
 
 "No." 
 
 " How's that ? Hadn't he got a name ? n 
 
 " I s'pose he had, but nobody never knew what it was. 
 
 "And wasn't it never found out ? " 
 
 " Not as I knows on." 
 
 " But surely there was a name you used to call him 
 by?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; he had a sort of nickname, but it wasn t 
 his real one." 
 
 "And what was the nickname t "
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 251 
 
 "Hell-and-Fury!"* 
 
 "Hell-and-Fury?" 
 
 " Yes. Rather a rummy name, wam't it f 
 
 " Very." 
 
 " So everybody says." 
 
 « ! But why was ho called that ? " 
 
 K Because it was a word of his — a sort of— sort of a—— 
 What is it, Jim ? " 
 
 " Blest if I know." 
 
 " Hexpleetive ? " 
 
 " Yes, that's it. A sort of a kexpleetive as he was 
 always making use of. For instance, if he was astonished, 
 he'd say, ' Hell-and-Fury ! ' " 
 
 "Oh! that's it?" 
 
 " Yea. Consequently, you see, he got to be called that 
 for a name for want of a better, and I shouldn't wonder 
 if that isn't the way half the people come by the queer 
 names they've got." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder; but what were you going to tell 
 as?" 
 
 "About Hell-and-Fury!" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " Why, it's about fourteen year ago since he was brought 
 into the old stone jug." 
 
 "What was he?" 
 
 " I ought to tell you that first. He was a real out and 
 out hightobyman." 
 
 " Oue of the jolly old sort P " 
 
 " Yes, there was nothing of the sneak about him. He'd 
 take up his station in the middle of the road, and when a 
 carriage came by, he would ride up to the window as bold 
 as brass, and, drawing a pistol, cry, ' Hell and fury ! 
 Hand over what you've got, or I'll sink every one of 
 you ! ' " 
 
 l( Myeye!" 
 
 " You may well say that. He waa the daringcst chap 
 as ever I've heard tell on, bar none." 
 
 " And you've had a pretty good experience ? " 
 
 " I believe you. Why, I was born in this old place, and 
 I have never slept out of it since, and now I'm getting 
 quite an old man. 
 
 " Hear, hear," cried the rest, bangiiif- their glasses on 
 the table, impatiently. " Let us hear * cat you have got 
 to say about ' Hell-and-Fury.' " 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIV. 
 
 RELATES HOW HELL-AND-FURY WAS BROUGHT TO NEW- 
 GATE IN A CARRIAGE AND FOUR, AND HOW JERRY 
 ABERSHAW DANCED A HORNPIPE IN HIS FETTERS. 
 
 "All right, mates; all right. But don't be so impatient." 
 
 " You re so awfully long-winded." 
 
 " Well, then, I'll sum it up in a few words. He played 
 the hightobyman for some time with very great success, 
 and nobody could capture him. People got afraid to travel 
 about, for, if he stopped decent-looking folks, and they 
 had got no money with them, he used to ill-treat 'em 
 awful." 
 
 "Did he?" 
 
 " I believe you ; but at last they nabbed him, and it 
 was the cleverest trick that ever I heard of." 
 
 " How they nabbod him, do you mean ? " 
 
 " Of course I do, stupid ; how you keep cross-question- 
 ing a fellow ; and if it hadn't been by a trick, they would 
 never have caught him to this day." 
 
 " What was the tnck ? " 
 
 " Why, a party of officers hired a magnificent carriage 
 drawn by four beautiful horses." 
 „ " Whatever for ? " 
 
 "Wait a bit, and I'll tell you. This wu_ -ept very 
 qrriet, but, when all was in readiness, ten of the best police 
 officers all armed themselves and put on various disguises. 
 
 "The carriage was going to start from Edgware, so 
 they made their way one at a time to that place. 
 
 " One who knew how to drive four-in-hand was dis- 
 guised as a coachman, and another of them, dressed in 
 plain clothes, sat by his side. 
 
 "Two more were disguised as footmen, and wore a very 
 rich livery indeed. Of course, they stood at the back of 
 '.tie carriage." 
 " Yes — yes." 
 " Then the other six officers, dressed in plain clothes, 
 
 'Never mind him, go 
 
 • A feet. 
 
 got inside the carriage, and, preparations being quite com. 
 plete, they set off towards London." 
 
 " I see it now." 
 
 " No you don't. Hold your row, or else I stops thi« 
 'Jessed minute ! " 
 
 "No — no!" cried the rest, 
 along." 
 
 " Well, then, as I told you, when they had all taken 
 their seats, the carriage was driven in the direction of 
 London, and a very aristocratic turn-out it looked, I can 
 assure you, and was enough to deceive anybody. 
 
 " They calculated that it would deceive Hell-and-Fury 
 if he happened to be on the road ; and so it did, for just 
 after they passed through Kilburn-gate, they heard th« 
 clatter of horse's hoofs, and a mounted man rode up. 
 
 " ' Halt ! ' he cried, to the coachman. ' Halt, I say ! 
 Hell and fury, if you don't pull up, you are a dead man ! ' 
 
 " These words were quite enough to let the officers 
 know they had got hold of the right person, so the one 
 who played the part of coachman drew up with all the 
 pleasure in the world. 
 
 " Seeing this, Mr. Hell-and-Fury rides up to the coach- 
 window, and catching hold of it by the top, lets it down 
 with a crash, while he put a pistol inside with all the 
 boldness you can think of. 
 
 " But inside the carriage was quite dark, for they had 
 not lighted the lamp, so he did not notice what a many 
 people were inside. 
 
 " ' Hell and fury ! ' he cried. ' Your money or your 
 life ! Quick ! I have no time to lose.' 
 
 " While this was going on, you must know, the two 
 footmen, according to a previous arrangement, slipped 
 down off the board at the back, and coming round to the 
 side, one caught hold of him by one arm and the second 
 by the other. 
 
 " Hell-and-Fury turned round with an oath, and tried 
 to shake off his foes ; but it was all to no purpose. They 
 were used to that sort of thing, and besides, the two 
 strongest men in the force had been selected to do the job. 
 
 " By the time he had twisted himself i-ound, the two 
 got off the box and laid hold of the bridle of his horse, 
 while the others opening the door, rushed out in a body, 
 and he was overpowered. 
 
 " He struggled manfully, however, to the last, but it 
 was all to no purpose. What chance had one man got 
 against ten who were bent upon taking him prisoner ? 
 
 "Accordingly, after a time, they pinioned him and put 
 him inside the carriage, while the one whose seat he had 
 taken mounted the highwayman's horse, and rode on in 
 advance to Newgate to bring word that the celebrated 
 Hell-and-Fury was caught, and that they were bringing 
 him there securely bound and a prisoner. 
 
 "The greatest excitement took place, of course, and 
 every preparation was made for his arrival, when, sure 
 enough, soon afterwards the carriage drove up to the door 
 of the lodge. 
 
 " He couldn't complain of the way they brought him, 
 for I should think he is the only highwayman that ever 
 has been or ever will be brought to Newgate in a carriage 
 and four. 
 
 " Well, when it stopped, they opened the door and 
 lifted him out all bound as he was, for they were afraid 
 to loose him, and in that state carried him to the strongest 
 cell in the prison. 
 
 " There they put him in some heavy irons — the very 
 same ones, Mr. Sheppard, that you had on before your 
 trial," remarked the speaker, by way of parenthesis, and 
 looking at Jack as he spoke. 
 
 " What next, Bob ? " 
 
 " Well, in course of time, as you may suppose, he was 
 had up afore the beak, and a case of highway robbery 
 brought agin him, which was fully proved, and so he was 
 cast for death. 
 
 "After that, of course, he was brought here, and I was 
 one that sat with him. It turned out while he was here 
 that he had some rich and powerful friends, who tried 
 hard to get him off, and who supplied him with lots of 
 tin. 
 
 " He was a perfect gentleman when you came to Know 
 him, though he was able to act the blackguard uncom- 
 monly well ; and it's my private belief that he was the 
 rakish, good-for-nothing son of a family of rank ; but 
 nothing more was known of him except what was guessed, 
 and which, of course, might be right or wrong, though, t
 
 252 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 fancy, I can see through a deal board as well as here and 
 there one. 
 
 " I can tell you one thing, however, that we all had a 
 merry time of it while he was here, and we all looked for- 
 ward with great sorrow to the time when we should have 
 to part. As for money, he throw guineas about as if they 
 were halfpence, and ate and drank of the best of every- 
 thing that was to be had. 
 
 " Of course, we were all invited to have a share, and 
 there used to be quite a fight to see who should be put in 
 the cell with him— and you know, mates, that's a duty we 
 all shirk if we possible can. 
 
 " It was quite the reverse with him, he was such a jolly 
 companion. He used to tell us the rummiest tales of 
 what he'd done in his time, and I thought at times I 
 should have laughed till I died. He was enough to make 
 the very walls laugh. 
 
 " Well, the night before he was scragged we had the 
 jolliest jollification, barring this here, as has ever been 
 had in the prison, and he no more cared for to-morrow 
 than we did — nor half so much, indeed." 
 
 "And was he tucked up ? " 
 
 " Ah ! yes," exclaimed the narrator, wiping away a 
 tear, which the hot gin and water had doubtless helped 
 to produce ; " I bid him farewell, and away he went. It 
 was a real pity he should come to grief, that it was ! " 
 
 " And you never found out his name ? " 
 
 " Never from that day to this, nor anything about him. 
 But he had got some rich relations, and I have no doubt 
 was descended from some noble family or other." 
 
 " And did he die game ? " 
 
 " As a cock ! and he made such an elegant bow when 
 he stood up in the cart that all the people cried ' Shame ! ' 
 and if they hadn't been very quick, he would have been 
 rescued." 
 
 " Ah ! there's been some game coves in this place in 
 my time," said another of the turnkeys. " Fill my glass, 
 if you please. Thank you. Now, the gamest that ever I 
 heard of— and it strikes me he'll beat Hell-and-Fury — 
 was Jerry Abershaw." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ! " responded several. " I remember 
 Jeremiah ; he was an out-and-outer, with no gammon ! " 
 
 " He certainly were," observed Bob Bains, reflectively. 
 " He certainly were." 
 
 "To be sure he was! If Hell-and-Fury was brought 
 in a carriage and four, he never did what Jerry did." 
 
 " What was that ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Why, he was such a desperate chap that they did not 
 put him in the condemned hold here, but locked him up 
 in a cell with a set of fetters on." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed." 
 
 "Well, when the morning for the execution came, what 
 do you think he did ? " 
 
 ''Escaped?" 
 
 " Oh ! dear, no ; we look good care of that." 
 
 " What was it, then ? " 
 
 "Why, when he was brought out to have his irons 
 struck off, before being put into the cart and driven to 
 Tyburn — you won't believe it "— — 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " He actually broke away ; and though he had no end 
 of ironwork about his wrists, folded his arms across his 
 breast — so ! " 
 
 The turnkey placed his arms in the position he de- 
 scribed. 
 
 " Well, then, you must Know, he had got all the fetters 
 «n that go round the waist and ankles, lie actually — 
 mind you, I saw it myself — danced a sailor's hornpipe all 
 round the yard ! "* 
 • " Wonderful ! " ejaculated Jack. 
 
 " And that's not the most wonderful part either, for, 
 not only did he make every ttep quite perfect in spite of 
 the weight of the iron, but he made the fetters clank 
 together and keep time like music." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " Oh ! it's quite true, I can assure you, ain't it Bill ? 
 You saw it as well as me." 
 
 " Certainly," replied the man appealed to, whc was the 
 third turnkey. "Certainly. As you say, I saw it; and 
 it's quite true ; we were all quite astonished at it, the 
 governor, the sheriffs, the hangman, and chaplain, and 
 everybody, and none of us attempted to stop him till he 
 
 • A fact. 
 
 had finished. But, as yon have been telling tales among 
 you, I have thought of one myself which is quite as rummy, 
 if not more rummier than any we have heard yet." 
 
 " Let's have it, then, if it ain't a long 'un." 
 
 " Oh ! it ain't a long *un." 
 
 " Very well, then, fire away, for it will be our turn 08 
 directly," 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXV. 
 
 IN WHICH THE STORY OF THE QUAKER HIGnWAYMAH 18 
 BROUGHT TO A TERMINATION. 
 
 This was true. 
 
 The guard was changed every two hours, and, as the 
 last speaker had remarked, their two hours were nearly 
 up, so that the tale, if they were to hear it at all, must be a 
 short one, so as to be ended before three other men entered 
 to take their places. 
 
 The turnkey began as follows : — 
 
 " If you won't interrupt me," he said, " by asking 
 questions and making remarks, I shall very soon get to 
 the end." 
 
 "We won't interrupt you, then. What's the tale 
 about ? " 
 
 " Some of you must have heard about it, I am sure. 
 It's the quaker highwayman." 
 
 "Aminadab Gilchrist?" 
 
 " That's the man." 
 
 " Ah ! that was a rum start. The idea of a quaker, 
 dressed in broad cloth, being a highwayman." 
 
 " Ah ! well. Order — order. Fill up the glasses, and 
 let us hear the tale straightforward." 
 
 This proposal was immediately acceded to, and for a 
 minute or so nothing was heard but the clinking of 
 glasses. 
 
 Then the table was knocked until order was restored. 
 
 " Well, mates, it's a matter of twelve or fourteen years 
 since the events took place I am going to relate. Ah ! 
 they were the good old times. People then wasn't so 
 blessed particular as they is now. 
 
 " Never mind that, though. You must know that a 
 highwayman then was rather a remarkable character, 
 and he was thought a good deal of by both great and 
 small. 
 
 " There was a good many tobymen on the road at the 
 time I am speaking of, but there was none so celebrated 
 as Captain Blackford. 
 
 " But you mustn't think, as you perhaps might, that he 
 called himself Captain because he had got a gang of men 
 under him. He merely, in a manner of speaking, assumed 
 the name. 
 
 " Whenever he was met with, he was alone. He had no 
 comrades, and never robbed in company with others. 
 
 " He was a very remarkable chap, I can tell you ; and, 
 talk about daring, he was the daringest that ever lived. 
 Ho'd stand still to be shot at, and never move a muscle, 
 and, somehow or other, the bullets did not seem to hurt 
 him. 
 
 " He used to ride a magnificent horse — a real beauty. 
 It would have fetched any money if it had been put up 
 for sale. 
 
 " Well, this Captain Blackford and his mare used to do 
 some astonishing things, and if ever any one was either 
 going from or coming to London and carrying a booty 
 worth having, Captain Blackford was sure to stop them. 
 He never let one escape. 
 
 " He must have had some means of learning all this, 
 of course, but, whatever it was, it was never found out 
 
 "Rewards were offered for him, and all manner of 
 dodges tried, but they were all of no avail, ne was too 
 old a bird to be caught by chaff, and they soon got tired 
 of laying traps for him. 
 
 " Well, things went on, and he could be heard of almost 
 every night, sometimes on the north road, sometimes on 
 the western, and sometimes on the Dover road. 
 
 " One of the rummiest things about him was that '.,e 
 neT?i injured anyone. He carried pistols, but he was 
 n^er known to fire them. There was something terribly 
 persuasive abou 'the tones of his voice, when he com* 
 manded them to stop and hand over their cash, I suppose, 
 for he never failed to get what he asked for. 
 
 " As I told you, he was fired at many and many a time, 
 and he used to stand to let them, and took no notice, until 
 at last the peop'e began to get more frightened than
 
 BLUESKIN- A tlOMAHCB. 
 
 253 
 
 before, and used to think they were dealing with some one 
 who was not of this world. 
 
 " There was something else about him, too, that was very 
 strange. As you must all know, there is always a house 
 or two in London where a knight of the road is to be met 
 with when be is off duty, but it was not so with Captain 
 Blackford. At all the kens he was as great a mystery as 
 anywhere, and they knew no more of his whpvpabouts than 
 anybody else did. 
 
 "As I told you, he used to ride a beautiful horse — 
 always the same one— and as for speed and strength, I 
 should think her equal was not to be found. 
 
 " Of course, as the officers were eent out specially to 
 capture him, they got upon his track more than once, aDd 
 gave him chase, but they never could catch him. He 
 would fly before them on the road, and they would think 
 they were gaining on him, when all of a sudden he would 
 disappear, as though he was a ghost, and no after search- 
 ing would find him. 
 
 All this, you may be sure, made him mo r e feared than 
 ever, and increased his reputation not a little. 
 
 " At length, however, it was noticed that he always dis- 
 appeared somewhere about the 6ame spot, and that put 
 the officers a little on the scent. 
 
 " The clue was a faint one, and they resolved to follow 
 it up, but they could find nothing whatever that looked 
 suspicious. 
 
 There was only one residence near this place, and that 
 was called Friendly Hall, and was occupied by a highly- 
 respected quaker gentleman, by name Aminadab Gilchrist. 
 
 " He was very well known, and universally looked up to 
 and admired, in spite of his peculiar creed, and, indeed, 
 he was considered one of the first gentlemen in the 
 county. 
 
 "This threw the officers off the scent again. They 
 would as soon have thought of looking for the sun at mid- 
 night as Captain Blackford, the notorious highwayman, 
 at Friendly Hall. 
 
 " They kept a 6harp watch all round the place of disap- 
 pearance, in the hope that they should see their prey 
 make his appearance there again. But in this they were 
 always disappointed. They would hear of him twenty or 
 thirty miles off. 
 
 " Well, all this looked very strange, and everyone's 
 ttcitement and curiosity got wound up to the highest 
 pitch. 
 
 " Then the summer came, and during the warm light 
 nights nothing at all was heard of him. 
 
 " It is really astonishing how soon the world forgets 
 any one. This was a notable example. Before the winter 
 came round again, he was no more thought of than if he 
 had never existed. 
 
 " They were soon reminded, though. The secretary of 
 state was coming up from Bristol in his carriage — no, let 
 me see, I almost think it was Bath ; however, that don't 
 matter a straw — he was coming up to London, anyhow, 
 after a few month's absence, when, having almost reached 
 the end of his journey, he was stopped by Captain Black- 
 ford, andl robbed of everything valuable he had with him. 
 
 " This- created a great fuss, and the secretary of state 
 doubled the reward, and added a couple of hundred 
 pounds out of his own pocket. 
 
 " Thi* started the officers again with fresh spirits, for 
 altogether the sums now offered for his capture amounted 
 to six hundred pounds. 
 
 " They set out, and for a long time were unsuccessful 
 in metting with him, but at length, on the Uxbridge- 
 road, ihey heard a couple of screams, so, riding forward, 
 bh«j same to a carriage, the occupants of which had been 
 robbed by the very individual of whom they were in 
 search. 
 
 " From inquiry, they learned he bad not left five 
 minutes, and had taken the direction of the open country. 
 
 " This was enough for the officers. Away thoy went, 
 and soon heard the clatter of a horse's hoofs upon the 
 ground. But although they spurred their horses to the 
 utmost, they were unable to come up with him, and they 
 returned to Bow-street defeated and disappointed. 
 
 " But they were dete^uined not to be conquered, aad 
 kept up the chase. 
 
 The winter, I recollect, set in very early, and in Sep- 
 tember we had several very heavy falls of snow, which 
 t ucceeded each other with little intermission. 
 
 "After one. of the snow-storms a sharp, hard frost had 
 
 set in, and the snow, which lay upon the ground was 
 covered with a strong, crust-like ice, and whicn crackled 
 and gave way before everything that was put on it. 
 
 " This was just the state of the road when the officers 
 made another excursion after Captain Blackford. 
 
 " At Tyburn-gate they came up with him once more. 
 
 "He was standing there, waiting for the pike to be 
 opened. 
 
 "The officers were upon bim almost before he was 
 aware of it, but, turning round his head, Le saw their 
 dark forms plainly revealed against the white ground. 
 
 " At this moment they called to him to surrender, but 
 he took not the least notice of what they said. 
 
 " All he did was to back his horse a little, and as the 
 pikeman would not open the gate, he leaped over it. 
 
 " As soon as the officers saw what he was about, they 
 hastened forward and fired upon him, but whether any of 
 their shots proved effective was more than they could 
 tell ; at all events no notice was taken of them. 
 
 " The gate was opened, and they all dashed through. 
 
 " They had now, they considered, the finest possible 
 chance of hunting him down if they kept close after him, 
 for the track which his horse made in the snow was 
 very distinct, and consequently could be easily followed. 
 
 "Somehow or other it almost seemed as though the 
 highwayman had; overlooked the circumstance of leaving 
 so plain an index as to the road he had taken as he did, 
 but what happened afterwards tended to some extent to 
 explain this. 
 
 ■ Away they went, however, at full speed, until the 
 same familiar ground was reached where he had so often 
 disappeared. 
 
 " Now, they thought, surely they would get at the 
 heart of the mystery. 
 
 " The place at which this disappearance had taken 
 place was where the high-road took a sudden curve round 
 to the right. 
 
 " On one side of the road was a low hedge, with several 
 immense meadows beyond. 
 
 " On the other side was a kind of park, or rather plan- 
 tation, belonging to the gentleman quaker, Aminadab 
 Gilchrist. 
 
 " But this was screened from the road by a high wooden 
 paling, composed of upright pieces of wood, made so as 
 to lap over one another, and the top of which wae at least 
 eight feet from the ground. 
 
 " Behind this grew some trees, and the top of the 
 woodwork was detendo bv sharp iron spikes. 
 
 " It was clear no mortal ho'se could ever have leaped 
 such an obstacle as that. 
 
 " This paling was of great length, extending to a dis- 
 tance of at least a mile, perhaps more. 
 
 " On reaching this place, then, for the highwayman 
 still kept in advance, the officers found, as they had fully 
 anticipated, that their prey had disappeared." 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXVI. 
 
 THE REMAINDER OP THE NIGHT IS SPENT BY THE 
 PRISONERS AND THEIR JANITORS IN A CONVIVIAL 
 MANNER. 
 
 Just as the turnkey reached this point in his narration, 
 and when, of course, the interest of his auditors was fully 
 excited, a trampling of footsteps was beard outside, and 
 the door of the cell was thrown open. 
 
 It was the three men who had come to relieve their 
 comrades, whose term of duty had expired. 
 
 But, by the request of the prisoners, and the consent of 
 the new comers, the three whose turn was off remained a 
 little longer while the tale was finished, which, as can be 
 seen, is rapidly approaching its termination. 
 
 An interruption of several minutes' duration, of course, 
 occurred, but in a little while silence was restored. _ 
 
 " Now then, Jim," they cried, " make a finish of it. 
 
 " Hear, hear." 
 
 " You have done it well so far ; keep it up." 
 
 The turnkey smiled and nodded his head at this com- 
 pliment, then went on. , 
 
 " I said when they got to the usual place the high- 
 wayman had disappeared. , 
 
 " Being quite determined this time not to be baffled, 
 they pulled up, and alighted from their steeds. 
 
 "The prints of the horses' hoofs could be plainly
 
 ?54 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A BOMANCE. 
 
 enough distinguished up to a certain point, and there 
 they stopped. 
 
 ''This was at the side of the tall paling I have 
 described. 
 
 " He had been riding at full speed, keeping ciose under 
 the shadow of this for some time, but there was every 
 indication of his having come to a halt. 
 
 "But just beyond that spot no hoof marks could be 
 seen. 
 
 " What was the meaning of it ? 
 
 "The officers searched closely all round about, and 
 presently one discovered a splash of blood on the paling. 
 
 "This drew their attention more particularly to that 
 one part of it, and the result was that they found a 
 small door, but so cunningly contrived as to escape all 
 observation, and almost the closest search. 
 
 "It is quite certain it would never have been found 
 by the officers, although in a manner of speaking they 
 were led to it, if it had not been for the splash of blood. 
 
 "They did not stand upon any ceremony, but set 
 about battering the door down, which they easily did. 
 
 " Neither fastenings nor hinges were visible from the 
 outer-side, so that the means of opening it were secret. 
 
 "The door soon ceased to be an obstacle to them, 
 and then upon going through, they found their suspicions 
 confirmed. 
 
 " The trees grew very thickly together, but there was a 
 winding patb*through them just wide enough for a horse. 
 
 " The snow lay upon this path as it did upon the high- 
 road, and there were the horse's footprints quite plain 
 and distinct. 
 
 " Here and there, too, when they looked, they distin- 
 guished spots of blood, which showed that the highway- 
 man was wounded by the discharge at Tyburn, and, 
 therefore, they calculated upon finding him in a very 
 helpless condition indeed. 
 
 " The little narrow path was about half a mile long. 
 
 " Upon reaching the end of it they found themselves in 
 a large and well-cultivated garden. 
 
 " Still following the track, they came at last to the 
 etables attached, or rather belonging to, Friendly Hall. 
 
 " The door was locked, but they broke it open. 
 
 " The stable was one that would hold about a dozen 
 horses. There were stalls for that number, but only four 
 horses at present occupied it. 
 
 " One of these was in a profuse sweat, and gave every 
 token of the hard riding it had had. 
 
 " With little or no doubt upon their minds, the officers 
 left two of their number in charge of the stables, while 
 the rest proceeded in a body to the hall. 
 
 " No single ray of light from any window indicated that 
 the inhabitants were up. 
 
 " But having surrounded the premises in such a manner 
 that they felt certain no one could leave without their 
 knowledge, the officers proceeded to the front door of the 
 mansion, and gave a loud summons for admission. 
 
 " They had to repeat this before any notice was taken, 
 and then a window in one of the upper stories was vio- 
 lently thrown up, and a head projected from it. 
 
 " When the officers commanded the door to be opened 
 in the king's name, the head was quickly withdrawn, and, 
 after a little delay, they were allowed to enter. 
 
 "All was quiet, and the officers began to fear, that 
 after all, Captain Blackford would be one too many for 
 them. 
 
 " ' Where is your master ? ' asked one. 
 " ' In bed, sir,' was the reply. 
 
 " ' Then tell him he is waited. Ask him to step down. 
 We will wait here in the hall till he comes.' 
 " The servant departed upon this errand. 
 " The officers more than suspected the identity of 
 Captain Blackford with Aminadab Gilchrist, and a little 
 time would set those suspicions at rest, or confirm them. 
 " The hiehwayman had been wounded. 
 " If the quaiier proved to be unhurt, it would be 
 tolerably good evidence that he was not the man. If he 
 was, it would fix it on him at once. 
 
 " You can imagine how impatiently they waited for the 
 servant to return. 
 "At length he came. 
 
 " ' My master is in bod, as 1 told you, and is suffering 
 from severe indisposition. Therefore, he cannot see 
 
 you 
 
 " « Oh ! indeed ! What time did he go to bed P' 
 
 " ' A t his usual hour.' 
 
 " ' What time is that ?' 
 
 *' « Half-past ten.' 
 
 " ' Did you see him then ?' 
 
 " ' Of course.' 
 
 "'Very good! Was anything the matter with him 
 then?' 
 
 " ' Not as I know of, but he may have been took ill in 
 the night.' 
 
 " ' So he may ; and I consider it my duty to take you a 
 little while, and we will go up and see your master.' 
 
 *' The servant was much surprised, but made no resist- 
 ance. 
 
 "The remainder of the household was now getting 
 a-stir. 
 
 " The servant they had prisoner they compelled to con- 
 duct them to the door of his master's bedroom. 
 
 " They knocked, and then, as no answer was given, tried 
 to enter. 
 
 " But the door was locked. 
 
 " The usual command to open was given, which was not 
 obeyed, so they broke that door down also, despite the 
 remonstrances of the servant, who was thoroughly ter- 
 rified and alarmed, and without any idea of what was 
 amiss. 
 
 " All made a rush into the apartment, which was dimly 
 lighted by an oil lamp on the mantelpiece. 
 
 " As they entered, their ears were assailed by a groan. 
 
 " A sight met their gaze for which none were exactly 
 prepared. 
 
 " Lying half across the bed, and literally bathed in 
 blood, was the bold highwayman, Captain Blackford. 
 
 " There could be no doubt about the matter. He was 
 in his well-known dress, a portion of which, however, he 
 had attempted to remove when he seemed to have sunk 
 back upon the bed through weakness. 
 
 " ' Is that your master ? ' said one of the officers to the 
 servant. * Beware how you speak falsely ! ' 
 
 " The man appeared to be much surprised at seeing his 
 master in such a garb, and he looked attentively in his 
 face before he gave any reply, and then he said— 
 
 " ' Yes, that is master.' 
 
 " ' And what is his name ? ' 
 
 " ' Aminadab Gilchrist.' 
 
 "This was enough. It was quite clear that the rich 
 and respected quaker, and the much-dreaded highwayman 
 were one and the same person." 
 
 " Is that all ? " asked Blewitt, as he perceived the nar- 
 rator paused. 
 
 "Well, almost. The wound that he had received at 
 Tyburn was a fearful one, and how he managed to reach 
 home alive is a mystery. He must have been only par- 
 tially conscious of what he was about." 
 
 " And did he die then ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. A very little while after the officers broke 
 in he breathed his last. He had bled to death ! " 
 
 " How extraordinary." 
 
 " Wasn't it ? You can't think what an excitement it 
 created at the time, and especially among the quakers, who 
 managed in some way to make out that he did not pro- 
 perly belong to their sect, but had only joined it in 
 order to better carry out his designs, but they were glad 
 enough to own him when he was rich and wanted to 
 collect anything." 
 
 (S I'll warrant that." 
 
 " But though he made so much stir, the recollection of 
 him soon died away. I had even forgotten him myself, 
 until your tales to-night put him into my head again." 
 
 "And so that was the end of the quaker highway- 
 man ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, all I can say is, it is a first-rate tale, Jim ; but, 
 however, it's time we were off now." 
 
 " So it is." 
 
 " Good night all, then," said the three turnkeys who were 
 released from duty, and as they spoke they left the cell. 
 
 The other three then sat down in the seats which the? 
 had occupied, and the same sort of thing went on. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard took this opportunity to throw 
 himself down upon the rude pallet prepared for him. 
 He was tired and weary. 
 
 Besides, he wanted to think over his own concemt, 
 though the tales he had heard had the good effect of 
 making the time appear to pass away more quickly.
 
 BLTJISKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 955 
 
 Flood and Blewitt were evidently anxious to drown 
 thought, and certainly the means they took were best 
 qualified to achieve this end. 
 
 Even now they were in a state of semi-intoxication. 
 
 But they continued to pour down their throats glass 
 after glass of the hot liquor before them, until, at length, 
 their boisterous mirth and mock joviality lapsed into 
 silence. 
 
 Overpowered with drink, they sunk into a deeo eie^p, 
 from which they did not awake till late the next morning. 
 Jack slept, too, and for a long time also. His stomach 
 was not used to excess of liquor, and what be drank pro- 
 duced a great effect upon him. 
 
 But he felt thankful when he learned tbat it was almost 
 mid-day. There was all the less time to wait wtil bis 
 friends arrived and helped kirn to escape. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXYII. 
 
 JACK SIIEPPARD SUCCEEDS IN EFFECTING 31S SECOND 
 ESCAPE FROM NEWGATE. 
 
 A remarkable contrast was afforded by Jack Sbeppard 
 and his two companions. 
 
 He felt cheerful, and even happy. 
 
 They, on the contrary — the artificial spirits which the 
 drink had caused having evaporated — were moody, sullen, 
 and despairing. 
 
 Jack was longing for the time to pass, and cared not 
 bow quickly one minute succeeded to another. 
 
 They, on the other band, cursed and swore because they 
 bad not longer to live. 
 
 With two sucb characters the reader can feel but little 
 uympathy. 
 
 Sucb wretches as they were deserved nothing but 
 death. 
 
 They were not fit to live. 
 
 During their long and iniquitous career they bad per- 
 petrated a whole catalogue of crimes, the bare recapitu- 
 lation of which would make any one shudder. 
 
 More drink was called for, which they drank with re- 
 doubled thirst, but Jack refused to take any of it. 
 
 He wished to keep his head as cool as possible, and bis 
 band steady and ready for work. 
 
 The difference in the elapsion of time when one is 
 anxious for it to pass, and when we are a little behind in 
 what we have to do is very great, and must have been 
 noticed by everyone. 
 
 Jack found it so, but at length the welcome news was 
 brought to him tbat some friends of bis were waiting to 
 see him. 
 
 He could not forbear giving a glance round his person 
 and at his two companions, so certain did be feel that be 
 was then seeing the la6t of them. 
 
 Then, with a bght heart, be sprang up the little flight 
 of stone steps, and a moment afterwards stood at the 
 grating. 
 
 Blueskin and Johnson were standing there, attired as 
 they were the day before. 
 
 The former spoke first. 
 
 "Jack !" he said. 
 
 "Yes, what is it?" 
 
 " We are rather late, so you will have to be quick." 
 
 " Yes, yes. Give me the saw." 
 
 " Here it is." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " But be careful how you use it. The turnkey! are 
 about." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " Jn the ante-room." 
 
 " What are they doing ? " 
 
 " Having their supper, I think. Something to eat and 
 drink, at ail events. Now, Joe," he added, turning to his 
 companion, " howl." 
 
 Johnson obeyed by taking a handkerchief from his 
 pocket, and pretending to cry. 
 
 Quickly and silently the saw was drawn Daekwards and 
 forwards across the spike, having been fitted into the 
 crevice made on the preceding evening. 
 
 The time they bad chosen for attempting to carry out 
 their enterprize was certainly best. 
 
 It was Saturday. 
 
 The hour was tbat just before the prison doors were 
 mated. 
 
 Th« men, feeling tbat the day's work was over, were 
 
 generally in the habit of assembling in the little room 
 set aside for their use, and here they wers at the present. 
 
 Even the man on the lock had joined them. 
 
 Our friends had the lodge all to themselves. 
 
 To be sure, from where they sat, more than one of the 
 turnkeys could see into it, and more than once they looked, 
 but did not see that anything unusual was going for- 
 ward. 
 
 The behaviour of Johnson, the landlord, was a finished 
 piece of acting. 
 
 They had no idea that be was other than what be 
 seemed. 
 
 Jack, too, from his daring, was rather a favourite with 
 the prison officials, and therefore they were willing to allow 
 the interview between himself and bis two female com- 
 panions to be as private as possible. 
 
 Great credit is due to Blueskin for having bit upon the 
 idea of choosing female apparel for a disguise, since there 
 was no other that would have been so well calculated to 
 avert suspicion as that was. 
 
 Backwards and forwards, with a rapid, yet steady 
 motion, went the little saw, and every time its teeth sunk 
 deeper and deeper into the iron. 
 
 At length the spike was so far sawn through, that Jack 
 thought it not worth while to continue it any longer. 
 
 Releasing the little tool which had been of so much 
 service to him, be caught bold of the spike with bis right 
 hand. 
 
 Then putting out all bis strength, be bent it backwards 
 and forwards until it was broken off. 
 
 Now came the most difficult part of all. 
 
 His heart beat with painful quickness, but theiM was no 
 time for hesitation. 
 
 Indeed every thing would depend upon the rapidity of 
 their actions. 
 
 No sooner was the spike fairly broken off, than by the 
 command of his companions, Jack climbed up the gate, 
 and thrust bis bead and shoulders through the space 
 between the other spikes. 
 
 There was only just room, and had he been bigger 
 than be was he could never have got through, but be 
 was remarkably slender. 
 
 With a great effort be got his arms through, and then 
 his two companions caught hold of them and pulled him 
 through. 
 
 A moment more, and be stood upon the stone floor of 
 the lodge. 
 
 One obstacle, and a most formidable one, tbat inter- 
 posed itself between him and freedom was overcome. 
 
 But scarcely had he fairly gained bis feet, than one of 
 the turnkeys in the ante-room got up off bis seat, and 
 came towards them. 
 
 Fortunately he was perceived by Johnson, who pushed 
 Jack close against the grating, and stood before him, 
 speaking as though be was on the other side. 
 
 Blueskin assisted him in this manoeuvre. 
 
 The turnkey evidently did not perceive that anything 
 was wrong. 
 
 He paused just on the threshold of the ante-reom, and 
 said — 
 
 " Now, you women, make baste ; we are going to close 
 the doors. Time's almost up, you know." 
 
 Joe Johnson responded to this speech by an adruirably- 
 afiected burst of grief. 
 
 " Ob ! hold your row ! " cried the turnkey, turning 
 away. "Make haste and say good-bye, and stop that 
 awful howHng." 
 
 He then resumed his seat. 
 
 Jack bad scarcely dared to breathe while this was taking 
 place. 
 
 Discovery, indeed, seemed imminent. 
 
 But he was all right again directly. 
 
 " What next, Blue ? " be whispered. 
 
 " Be quiet ; don't speak so loud." 
 
 " Be quick, then." 
 
 " Stand where you are ; I will sbp across to fcbe door. 
 Look, the key is in the lock." 
 
 Jack did look, and by a rapid glance assured himself 
 that the ponderous key of the outer door had been left 
 sticking in the lock. 
 
 "Well— well." 
 
 " I will steal across, turn it rapidly, and fling the door 
 open."
 
 2&t5 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCJ. 
 
 " You must both, then, be prepared to rush out, and I 
 will do the same. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " Good, then." 
 
 " But which way are we to turn when we get outside ? " 
 
 " I had forgotten. At the corner of Giltspur-street I 
 have a horse and trap. Get in and drive off." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I shall be there as soon as you are." 
 
 With these words Blueskin, having first looked into tho 
 ante-room, glided across the lodge to the front door. 
 
 lie was unseen. 
 
 With great swiftness, then, he seized the key, turned it 
 round in the lock, and flung the door open. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Johnson made one bound, and then 
 rolled down the steps iuto the street together. 
 
 The noise they mado at once attracted the attention of 
 the turnkeys, who instantly guessed what had happened. 
 
 But ere they could reach the door, Blueskin, with great 
 presence of ruiud, had withdrawn the key, and closing the 
 door, locked it on the outside. 
 
 He heard a frantic howl of rage as they dashed them- 
 selves against it. 
 
 Bie did not wait, though, to see what they did. He 
 was content in having succeeded in placing a barrier to 
 immediate pursuit. 
 
 He could just distinguish the forms of his two com- 
 panions flying before him, and that was all, for it was 
 quite dusk. 
 
 But au immense commotion was taking place within the 
 prison. 
 
 The huge bell, which was silent except when a fire took 
 place, or a prisoner escaped, was tolled vigorously. 
 
 The alarm was spreading, and would soon be all over 
 London. 
 
 Trampling feet could be heard along the streets. 
 
 But, knowing that their lives depended upon it, the three 
 friends made their way at full speed in the direction of 
 which Blueskin had spoken. 
 
 At the corner of GilUpur-street there, sure enough, 
 was a horse and trap. 
 
 A boy was in charge of it. 
 
 With all speed they scrambled in. 
 
 Jack first. 
 
 Then Johnson. 
 
 They had to wait a moment for their companion, but ho 
 soon reached them, and got in at the back. 
 
 Johusou took the reius, and laid the whip with an un- 
 sparing hand over the horse's neck, which started forward 
 at a breakneck pare. 
 
 But several loud shouts from the rear let them know 
 they were both seen and pursued, while a loud cry was 
 raised — 
 
 " Stop thief! stop thief!" which was taken up by every 
 throat. 
 
 But, paying no heed to these cries, Johnson kept urging 
 the animal to increased speed, while above all other sounds 
 could be heard the loud tolling of the Newgate bull. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS UNABLE TO ELUCIDATE THE MYSTERY 
 OF MARY MILLINER'S DEATH. 
 
 Tt is quite time now that we turned our attention to 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 When Steggs had disposed of Mary Milliner in such a 
 summaiy manner, aud created bo much consternation 
 among Wild's men, he returned to her room, and locked 
 himself in. 
 
 Then, in a few words, he gave Edgworth Bess an out- 
 line of what had taken place. 
 
 That Jonathan would, before long, pay a visit to -hat 
 apartment, he did not for a moment doubt, and, therefore, 
 lie set about removing everything calculated to excite sus- 
 picion in the thief -taker's breast. » 
 
 As we know, when Mary Milliner attempted the life of 
 the poor heiress, Steggs had seized her wrist, but he was 
 not able to prevent tho weapon from descending. 
 
 He diverted it, however, and it had sunk deeply iuto 
 the bed clothes, but without wounding Bess in the least. 
 
 Then he had struggled with the ferocious female, aud, 
 fiu ling he could achieve a victory by no other means, 
 bestowed upon her the same fate as she had intended for 
 ber imaginary rival, ^ 
 
 He had next drawn her out of the room and flung her 
 over the balusters. 
 
 So quickly was the whole of this performed, that the 
 blood did not begin to flow from the wound to any great 
 extent until she reached the bottom of the second flight 
 of stairs. 
 
 Consequently, there was no trace to lead them to the 
 chamber door, nor were there any stains within the 
 chamber itself. 
 
 This Steggs assured himself of, and arranged the clothea 
 so that the place where the knife had pierced them should 
 not be noticed, unless upon a close examination. 
 
 Then he calmed the fair and much-excited prisoner as 
 well as he was able, and gave her every assurance that 
 he was her friend. 
 
 And, indeed, his actions had proved it. 
 
 Then he told her how necessary it was for him to con- 
 ceal himself, and that, if he was found by the thief-taker, 
 his life would be forfeited that moment; he also par- 
 ticularly cautioned her not to say a word if she was 
 questioned, or seem to know anything of what had 
 taken place, except having heard a noise. 
 
 To all this did Edgworth Bess give her consent, and 
 promise to act accordingly. 
 
 It was, then, just at this moment, that Jonathan Wild 
 reached the door of the room. 
 
 He thrust his key into the lock. 
 
 Steggs crawled under the bed. 
 
 The wards of the lock would not act just properly, 
 probably in consequence of having been locked with a 
 skeleton key. 
 
 It might have been owing also to Jonathan's excite- 
 ment, but, be it what it might, he had to make one er two 
 efforts before he could get the bolt back. 
 
 Then he flung the door open and strode in. 
 
 To all appearance, however, everything was well. 
 
 Edgworth Bess half sat up in bed when he entered, 
 aud then shrunk back again in undiguised terror and dis- 
 gust. 
 
 It was no small satisfaction for Jonathan to see that his 
 prisoner was there, and all right. 
 
 He breathed rather more freely. 
 
 " What is it ? " he growled. " What does it all mean ? 
 Tell me at once." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " What ? The meaning of this noise ! " 
 
 " Why should you ask me ? I have only just been 
 awoke by it." 
 
 " True, 1 am a fool. There is nothing here. Nothing." 
 
 " Release me," said Edgworth Bess. " Release me. I 
 have learned that I am in your house, but how I came 
 here is a mystery beyond my comprehension. Release 
 me, I beseech you." 
 
 " Pah ! Be silent. You lose labour. Do you think, 
 after the trouble I have taken, and the risks I have run 
 to get you here, that I should be fool enough to let you 
 go again ? Oh ! dear no." 
 
 Bess wept. 
 
 " I shall keep you here until you are well, and until you 
 are of age. Then you shall be mine. Wholly mine. You 
 and your possessions also." 
 
 " Not if I can help it," muttered Steggs, beneath the 
 bed, but not loud enough to be overheard. 
 
 " Never ! " said Edgworth Bess, boldly. " I do not fear 
 you. Jack Sheppard will soon find where I am, and, not 
 only that, a means of rescuing me." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 A horrible and cold-blooded laugh it was, which seemed 
 to curdle the blood in the young girl's veins. 
 
 What could it mean ? 
 
 That was the question that instantly surged up in her 
 mind. 
 
 She dreaded some ill to Jack. 
 
 But she concealed her terror. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " said Jonathan, again. " Jack Sheppard 
 rescue you ? Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " Yes," said Bess, keeping down her agitation, and 
 speaking with tolerable firmness. " He has rescued me 
 before, and he will do so again." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 Bess was silent. 
 
 She was unable to speak. 
 
 That horrible laugh had some meaning, loubtleas M 
 hideous as itself.
 
 BLUESKTX: A ROMAN'CE. 
 
 257 
 
 [the execution OF FI.OOT1 AXT) BI.EWITT AT TYBURN.] 
 
 " It's very strange," said Wild, c: but I liad intended to 
 come up and have a little talk to yon about Jack Sheppavd. 
 Ha! ha!" 
 
 Bess was still silent. 
 
 " In fact, I was going to ask you whether you would 
 teel obliged to me if I allowed you to see him p " 
 
 "See him? When? Where?" 
 
 " See him. Yes. What do you say ? " 
 
 " You cannot be in earnest ! " 
 
 " I am. Now, if you like, I'll tell you when you shall 
 see him." 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " On Monday morning." 
 
 " On Monday ? " 
 
 " Yee. To-day, as I daresay you know, is Friday ; so 
 you won't have long to wait." 
 
 " But where shall I see him ? " 
 
 " Here, from one of my front windows." 
 
 " Will he be in the street, then ? " asked the poor girl, 
 iDcccently, for she had no idea what the villain meant : 
 
 but yet that it was something terrible she could surmise, 
 both by the expression of his countenance and the manner 
 in which he spoke. 
 
 " Oh ! yes. Now, shall I be candid with you ? " 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " Well, then, between ten and twelve o'clock next Mon- 
 day morning, Jack Sheppard is going for a ride in an open 
 carriage. You will be able to see him pass, and if you 
 like you shall stand at the window." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " asked the poor girl, bewJ- 
 deredly, " what do you mean ? " 
 
 " Just what I say." 
 
 " But how do you know what he will do on Monday ? 
 
 " I do know it." 
 
 "I will not believe you." 
 
 " Well, you need not. Will you if y»u see him f 
 
 " Speak plainly to me ; you will kill me with suspense. 
 Tell me, oh ! tell me, what you mean." 
 
 hurst into an apony of weerynK; j -- Bhe Bpoke. 
 
 No, 33.
 
 158 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 
 Something whispered to her heart that Jack was in 
 some great danger. 
 But of what kind? 
 She was at a loss to think. 
 " Calm yourself," said Jonathan, with a derisive grin ; 
 
 and if you like you can comfort yourself that Jack will 
 find you out and rescue you. I am not afraid of it. 
 Good day." 
 
 In his anticipated triumph over Jack, Wild forgot what 
 had been his errand to that room until he opened the door 
 and stalked out on to the landing, where several of lis 
 men were standing. 
 
 They gazed at him inquiringly, and then he recollected 
 what had happened. 
 
 Now it must not be supposed that it was out of regret 
 for the loss of Mary Milliner that Jonathan was anxious. 
 He would have been only too glad to get rid of her at any 
 price. 
 
 But it was the mystery of her death that troubled 
 him. 
 
 How conld it have come about f 
 
 By whom could she have been slain ? 
 
 Where was the assassin ? 
 
 He searched his house from top to bottom — pried into 
 all its numerous hidden nooks, but without learning any- 
 thing to satisfy him. 
 
 How should the mystery be elucidated ? 
 
 Mr. Snoxall was called in, who gave it as his deliberate 
 opinion that the wound tould not have been inflicted by 
 her own hand. 
 
 There was no means of learning anything from the 
 woman herself. 
 
 She was quite dead. 
 
 So Jonathan was thrown all abroad. 
 
 With an angry snarl, he, towards evening, made his 
 way into his front room, and there sat down to think. 
 
 To try if he could make anything out of this mysterious 
 and horrible event. 
 
 But it was quite in vain. 
 
 He doubted his men. 
 
 He fancied that they knew all the particulars of the 
 affair, and, for reasons of their own, kept them from him. 
 
 This was the block in the path of discovery, and he 
 stumbled over the obstacle. 
 
 Steggs knew it not at the time he had done the deed, 
 but he could not have hit upon a means better calculated 
 to unsettle the thief -taker, and fill him with alarm than 
 that. 
 
 But he was in great danger. 
 
 Fortunately he was forgotten by bis new master. 
 
 Steggs was by no means free from danger. If he was 
 asked for, he would be in a very awkward predicament 
 indeed. 
 
 Suspicion would be thrown upon him at once. 
 
 But Steggs was shrewd and long-headed. 
 
 He calculated correctly all the difficulties of his posi- 
 tion. 
 
 He knew what there wasCto contend against. 
 
 He knew the best means to set about it. 
 
 We shall see now how he got out of his present 
 dilemma, and if he is successful, we shall have a bettei 
 epini-an of bis abilities in future. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXIX. 
 
 IN WHICH STBGGS CONVEYS TO EDGWORTH BESS SOME 
 INFORMATION RESPECTING JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 So soon as he felt certain that Jonathan Wild had really 
 left the room and gone downstairs, Steggs rose from his 
 place of concealment, and looked with the utmost solici- 
 tude on the face of poor Edgworth Bess. 
 
 She was weeping bitterly. 
 
 Her heart told her that the thief- taker's hideous 
 pleasantry concealed some deep villainy. 
 
 But what was it ? 
 
 Something connected with Jack. 
 
 He was a prisoner. 
 
 But beyond that point her thoughts did not go, and 
 eo soon as she caught sight of Steggs bending over her, 
 she sprang up to a sitting posture, and clasping her 
 hands together, said — 
 
 M Friend ! friend ! You tell me you are my friend. Am 
 I to believe you ? Are you, indeed, suoh ? " 
 
 Show me in what way I can prove it t-o you, miss," 
 replied Steggs, respectfully. 
 " Jack Sheppard." 
 "What of him?" 
 
 "Tell me—tell me! You heard what-**hat Wild 
 said." 
 " Every word, miss." 
 
 " What does he mean ? Oh ! don't keep me in sus- 
 pense. I cannot understand him. He promised that I 
 should see Jack Sheppard." 
 Steggs groaned, and shook his head. 
 "Speak— tell me! " said the fair prisoner. "Tell me 
 at once, I pray ! Let me know the worst ! " 
 
 " It's a bit of his devilment, miss. I thought you would 
 have understood him. Prepare yourself to hear the worst. 
 Jack Sheppard"—— 
 
 "What— oh! what?" 
 
 " Is a prisoner ! " 
 
 "Oh! heavens. Where is he confined? In this 
 house ? " 
 
 "No, miss." 
 
 "Where then?" 
 
 " In Newgate ! " 
 
 The words fell like ice upon the young girl's heart. 
 
 " Newgate ?" she repeated, mechanically, and shudder« 
 ing as she pronounced the word, " Newgate ?" 
 
 ?t Yes, miss." 
 
 " But of what is he accused ?" 
 
 Steggs was again silent, and uttered another groan. 
 
 " Don't take on so," he said ; " it's all Wild's doings." 
 
 " Oh ! heavens ! why is such a villain suffered to live ?" 
 
 " That's more than I can tell you, miss ; but he won't 
 live much longer to persecute people if Reuben Steggs is 
 spared." 
 
 " Is that your name ?" 
 
 " It is, miss." 
 
 " I have heard it before. Jack mentioned it. Ah ! I 
 remember it now. You are no friend of mine. You are 
 an enemy. You are the associate and accomplice of Lord 
 Donmull." 
 
 Bess shrunk back with palpable abhorrence. 
 
 " You are mistaken in me, said Steggs, humbly. " I 
 am your friend, and will prove it in any way you like. I 
 was the accomplice of your uncle, and leagued with 
 Jonathan against you j but they treated me badly — they 
 tried to deprive me of my reward — that which alone 
 prompted and tempted me to take the course I did. Wild 
 played the treacherous villain to me, as he does to every 
 one. But I shall be even with him — I shall be even with 
 him!" 
 
 "Shall I trust you?" asked Edgworth Bess. "It is 
 hard to have to doubt every one, and fancy you see an 
 enemy in every face, but I have suffered enough to make 
 me." 
 
 "Let my actions speak, miss. Did I not save your 
 life?" 
 
 "You did, but" 
 
 "But what, miss?" 
 
 "You might have done that out of no good feeling 
 to me." 
 
 " I deserve this," said Steggs, " I deserve it. But, in 
 spite of your bad opinion of me, I will prove myself your 
 friend." 
 
 " I will take you at your word," said Edgworth Bess, 
 after a brief pause ; " if you deoeive me, if you betray me, 
 may heaven forgive you." 
 
 "Thanks! thanks! — will you believe me? I can tell 
 you a great deal which will all serve to show that great 
 an enemy as I once was against you, I am now devoted 
 entirely to your interests," 
 
 " Say on, then. Tell me all you know ; tell me, I be- 
 seech you ! " 
 
 "Where shall I begin?" 
 
 " With Jack Sheppard. Tell me where he is, and ex- 
 plain Wild's extraordinary behaviour." 
 
 Steggs sighed. 
 
 " He is a prisoner in Newgate," he said. 
 
 U 0I what is he accused, and who is his accuser?" 
 ac&od the poor girl, with a beating heart. 
 
 " I will answer your last question first. Four persons, 
 and I count you and myself as two of them, have a com- 
 mon and a deadly enemy, who is all-powerful, and who 
 will do his most against us." 
 
 " Mercy ! "
 
 ILUMKItf: A BOUIOI. 
 
 911 
 
 " You know who I mean ? " 
 I do." 
 
 " The villain who has just left us." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " Even he. The other two, miss, are Jack Sheppard 
 and Joseph Blake, or Blueskin, as he is often called. 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I know. I remember him. Where is he ? 
 Is he, too, a prisoner P " 
 
 " No, miss, he is free, but in momentary danger of being 
 captured. He is a firm true friend to you, and all in 
 whom you take an interest." 
 
 " I knew that." 
 
 " That is well ! Then he, too, is a friend of mine. We 
 are linked together to achieve one object." 
 
 " And that is " 
 
 " The downfall of the villain Wild, and, as a matter of 
 course, your restoration to those rights which you have so 
 long stood dispossessed of." 
 
 " I believe you. Truth is in your face. I will trust 
 you now entirely. Once more, then — tell me, and tell me 
 freely, all you know about Jack Sheppard." 
 
 " I would rather not, miss." 
 
 " Why not ?" And yet you call yourself my friend." 
 
 "What shall I do?" 
 
 " Prove that you are such by telling that which I want 
 to know." 
 
 " It is ill news." 
 
 " You alarm me more by speaking as you do, than if 
 you let me know the worst at onee. Tell me, I pray 
 you." 
 
 " He is a prisoner, then, in Newgate. Wild has sent 
 him there. He is accused of "— — 
 
 " What— what— oh ! what?" 
 
 " Bobbery and " 
 
 " And what ? Why keep me in this suspense ? " 
 
 " Murder ! " . 
 
 "No — no. Impossible. I do not believe it. Will 
 not. He is bad. He is guilty. I know that. But it is 
 not his fault. Circumstances have conspired to cause it. 
 This is but some deep malignity of Wild's. Has he been 
 found guilty ? " 
 
 " I know not, but I fear so. Whenever Wild appears 
 against a prisoner, he is sure to be condemned. H»e trial 
 came on this morning." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " It is true ; and so, wishing to see you and assure you 
 that even here you had a friend watching over you, I 
 took advantage of his absence to ascend. As you know, 
 I came just in time to save your life." 
 
 " Who was that woman ? But stop, before you tell me 
 any more. Let me hear all about Jack Sheppard." 
 
 " You know almost all now, except the better part of it. 
 He was tried this morning, but I don't know the result. 
 However, Blueskin and myself have determined to set him 
 free." 
 
 " Then there is hope." 
 
 " Every hope ; though Jonathan does not think so. He 
 thinks that little matter quite settled. You must know that 
 from some of the windows in this house a view of the top 
 of the Old Bailey and a part of Snow-hill can be had, and 
 on a Monday morning, when people are taken to be 
 executed, they are placed in a cart and conveyed to 
 Tyburn. Now, do you understand what Jonathan 
 meant?" 
 
 " Oh ! heavens ; is it possible for such inhumanity to 
 exist." 
 
 " It seems so. But no villainy is too black for Jonathan." 
 
 " And he really thought of showing him to me on his 
 way to the scaffold. Heaven forgive him." 
 
 " He has need of such a prayer. But be of good heart. 
 Rely upon it, Blueskin will leave no means untried to 
 effect his freedom. You know, too, that Jack is not one 
 to give up merely because he is confronted by a tew diffi- 
 culties." 
 
 " 1 know he is not. Nor is he one to commit a murder. 
 I am sure he is innocent, at least of that." 
 
 A Doubtless," said Steggs, compliantly, for he did not 
 wish to anger her by dissenting to what she said. 
 
 " What am I to do ? " she said. " Would that I was at 
 liberty." 
 
 " That is Blneskin's wish, even more than your own ; 
 but, as Jack's case is the most urgent, he imagined that 
 he should please you beat if be turned hit attention first 
 to him." 
 
 "And he was right— quite right. When Jack Sheppard 
 is free, then attempt my release. But, if he perishes, I 
 shall not care to live." 
 
 " But," said Steggs, hesitatingly, " you must not forget 
 that you are a lady, both by birth and wealth, and— and— 
 he — that is Sheppard — he — is — yen understand— he " ■ 
 
 " Cease. I know what you would say, but I shall not 
 listen to it. When I wasf riendless— helpless — he generously 
 stood my friend, and all that he has endured has been 
 caused by me. Had he consented to assist Wild in his 
 schemes, he would not now be the object of bis hatred. 
 We were equal when we first met, and nothing shall make 
 me feel my position to be different to his when we are 
 together, as I trust we soon shall be." 
 
 " You are just," said Steggs, " but still I only wanted 
 to remind you of that which I thought you had most 
 likely forgotten." 
 
 "No— no. But what shall you do? How shall you 
 contrive to leave me ? " 
 
 " Let me manage that. As soon as I can I will learn 
 the result of the trial, and see Blueskin. The next thing 
 will be to let you know all that has taken place." 
 
 " Do so — do so, and aceept my earnest thanks." 
 
 " You have faith in me ? 
 
 " I have." 
 
 "That is enough, but, ere I try to leave, I should like, 
 if you will give me permission, to enter into some par- 
 ticulars, in order that you may not only comprehend my 
 position, but your own at the same time." 
 
 " Speak — speak ! " cried Edgworth Bess. " I am im- 
 patient in the extreme to hear. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXX. 
 
 THE PERILS OF STEGGS's POSITION IN WILD's HOUSE 
 BECOME GREATER AND GREATER. 
 
 Entreating the poor girl to be calm, Steggs, at her 
 request, drew a chair up to the bedside, and commenced 
 the revelations to which he had alluded. 
 
 But as the reader is already in possession of all the facts 
 which he had to communicate, it will be scarcely necessary 
 to set down his words upon this occasion. 
 
 Let it suffice to say that he was as good as his wotu, 
 and by making her understand his own peculiar position 
 in Wild's household, he enabled her to comprehend her 
 own, and the views and intentions of the villainous thief- 
 taker. 
 
 He unfolded also his own plot against him, and showed 
 her the extreme likelihood of ite success, but, in spite of 
 what he said, she trembled at the thought of the frightful 
 amount of risk he would run. 
 
 To some extent, however, he reassured her. 
 
 At length, when he had finished, he prepared to leave. 
 
 They parted with the mutual understanding that Steggs 
 should take the first opportunity of letting her know what 
 had happened. 
 
 And now came Steggs's greatest danger. 
 
 It would be impossible, however, for him always to 
 stop where he was, and the sooner he got out the better. 
 
 Accordingly he unlocked the door with the skeleton 
 key, and locked it after him as silently as he possibly 
 could. 
 
 Creeping forward, then, he reached the head of the 
 6tairs, and ere he ventured to descend, looked down. 
 
 He more than half suspected that a man would be 
 there to watch who ascended and descended the stair- 
 case. 
 
 Of course, if he was seen doing the latter, suspicion 
 would immediately fall upon him. 
 
 His absence he had no doubt had already excited 
 comment. 
 
 Peeping down, he saw that what he expected was 
 really the case. 
 
 At the foot of the second flight of stairs, and near the 
 spot where Mary Milliner had fallen, a man was stationed. 
 
 Steggs looked more closely, in order to ascertain who it 
 was. 
 
 It was Wilkinson. 
 
 To go downstairs unseen by him was an impossibility. 
 
 Then what was he to do ? 
 
 His safest course, he knew, would be to get in at the 
 front door, but then what means had he of gaining th« 
 street ? 
 
 He did not know of the disused passage leading from
 
 i'fiO 
 
 BLTTESKrN: A ROMANCB. 
 
 tbe back yard into Newgate-market, or he would have 
 availed himself of that. 
 
 Clearly no good was to be got by descending, s<* he 
 turned to the attio stairs. 
 
 Up these he crept as silently and stealthily as a cat. 
 
 The upper part of the house was tolerably familiar to 
 him. 
 
 " If, now," he muttered to himself, " I could make 
 friends with the people who live next door, all would be 
 well. I must try it on. If I fail it can't be helped. I 
 have no other chance." 
 
 What Steggs meant by making friends with the people 
 next door will be very quickly seen. 
 
 As we have before stated, there was immediately above 
 the landing at the top of the attic stairs, a trap-door open- 
 ing on to the tiles, by means of which Jack Sheppard had 
 once entered Wild's house. 
 
 It was out of his reach as he 6tood on the floor, but 
 Steggs thought that by standing on the top of the massive 
 balustrades, he should be just able to reach it. 
 
 He made the attempt, and found the feat practicable. 
 
 Carefully balancing himself, he pushed against the trap- 
 door, to see whether it would open. 
 
 He quite expected to find it fastened in some way, and, 
 therefore, it was an agreeable surprise for him when he 
 found it yield before the pressure he applied to it. 
 
 He pushed it partially upwards and open, and caught 
 hold of the edge with his hands. 
 
 Then, after numerous struggles, and by assisting hirn- 
 eelf against the walls, he managed to draw himself up, 
 and finally crawled through the aperture. 
 
 He closed the trapdoor carefully, and then glanced 
 around. 
 
 Just before him was the roof of the hnge city prison. 
 
 That was on the west side of Jonathan Wild s house. 
 
 On the east side was a house, similar in appearance to 
 ♦ he thief-taker's, which was occupied by a shoemaker and 
 his wife. 
 
 At least, they were the responsible tenants to the land- 
 lord. 
 
 How many more shared the occupancy of the premises 
 with them it would have been hard to tell. 
 
 It was, in fact, a house let out in lodgings. 
 
 The shoemaker and his wife, and half a score of children 
 occupied the basement. 
 
 The ground floor was let to another family, and eo on, 
 with the different floors above, so that there must have 
 been, upon a moderate calculation, one hundred people in 
 the house at least. 
 
 There ar° many such houses to be found in London to- 
 day. 
 
 The traffic up and down the stairs was immense, so the 
 front door was never closed except at night, in conse- 
 quence of the continual going in and out. 
 
 All this Steggs had previously noticed before he ven- 
 tured upon entering the thief-taker's employ. 
 
 His observation proved to be of service to him. 
 
 With great show of reason he calculated that if he 
 could get inside the house he should be able to leave it 
 unnoticed and uDperceived. 
 
 The different lodgers must have visitors to see them 
 occasionally, and they would of course bs allowed to pass 
 out unquestioned. 
 
 If he should be stopped he had two excuses ready to 
 U6e as circumstances should require. 
 
 Stooping down, so as to be out of sight of any one in 
 tbe street, he crept over the roof of Wild's house, and ou 
 to the one next to it. 
 
 Here was a trap-door just like the one he had just com© 
 through. 
 
 In fact, those two formed part of a row of houses 
 which were built at the same time, and upon the sane 
 plan. 
 
 His chief danger, he felt, would be the contingency of 
 any one seeing him make an entry into the house in so 
 surreptitious a manner . 
 
 He placed his ear over the door and fotened. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 He then tried to raise it a little, and, after 6ome trdoble, 
 succeeded, for the rain had greatly swelled the wood- 
 work. 
 
 When it was open about a couple of inches, he tried to 
 peep down. 
 
 But all beneath vtas darkness. 
 
 He listened, but no indications of any persons moving 
 about reached his ears. 
 
 Rapidly, then, and cautiously — for he did not know how 
 soon this favourable condition of things would terminate 
 — he opened the trap-door still wider, and pushed himself 
 through. 
 
 Then dropped on to the landing. 
 
 He made a slight noise, of course, as bis feet struck 
 the boards, but 6till not much. 
 
 The landing had seemed in total darkness when be 
 looked down from the light, above, but now he found it 
 was faintly illuminated. 
 
 Without pausing a moment, then, he crossed the landing 
 to the head of the stairs, and descended them as fast as 
 his legs would allow him. 
 
 He heard a door opened above, but he paid no attention 
 to it, except that it served to make him accelerate his 
 speed. 
 
 The staircase was dark and awkwardly constructed, but 
 he made his way down it without falling. 
 
 The last flight was reached. 
 
 Another moment, and he would have been in tbe 
 street. 
 
 But when he reached the bottom, he saw the landlord of 
 the house standing at the front door, and leaning his back 
 against the post in a lazy attitude. 
 
 From his appearance, Steggs came to the conclusion 
 that he had been standing there for some time. 
 
 He knew he was in the habit of doing so for hours. 
 
 He might ask him a question. 
 
 Besides, he wished to keep out of his sight. 
 
 In the hope that he would move from his post, Stegga 
 drew back to a dark corner of the stairs and waited. 
 
 Here the time passed slowly. 
 
 He could see the landlord, but to his intense aggra- 
 vation, he made no offer to move. 
 
 He looked up and down the street with the listless air 
 of one who has nothing whatever to do, and who knows 
 not how to pass the time away. 
 
 How long he would have stood there is hard to say, but 
 he was interrupted by a shrill voice, which came from the 
 lower regions. 
 
 " Thomas ! — Thomas ! You idle, good-for-nothing lout, 
 why can't you come to your dinner when it's ready for 
 you?" 
 
 The landlord said not a word, but turned round, and 
 submissively walked down stairs. 
 
 This was the moment Steggs seized upon, and he was 
 out into Newgate-street like a 6hot. 
 
 And now arose the rather important question— should 
 he take advantage, now be was out, of the opportunity of 
 seeing Blueskin, and learning the result of the trial, or 
 should he return at once to Wild's house. 
 
 After a little deliberation, be decided upon the former. 
 He would make what haste he could, and it would not 
 take him long. 
 
 Accordingly he directed his steps to Drury-lane, where 
 he had little doubt he should find the person he wished 
 to see. 
 
 When he reached the " Black Lion," Blueskin and the 
 landlord were endeavouring to think of some plan by 
 which Jack's release could be effected. 
 
 Here he learned the result of the trial, and, indeed, all 
 he wished to know. 
 
 In his turn he communicated his own adventures in 
 Wild's house. 
 
 But he could not stay for any lengthened conference. 
 
 On his return he was accosted by Tonks, who was, 
 perhaps, less ill-disposed towards him than any other one 
 of Wild's men. 
 
 " You have come in just in time," he said. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Johnny's upstairs, and he has just called me to say he 
 wants you." 
 
 " Humbly, yes," said Steggs. " I'll go up at once.' 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXI. 
 
 IN WHICH JONATHAN WILD PLATS ENTIEEL? Q"TO STEGGS'? 
 BANDS. 
 
 Tones looked up rather curiously after him as he ascended 
 the stairs, and as he turned away, he muttered — 
 
 " I'm blest if I can make that chap out at all ! I mmrt 
 keep an eye upon him to find out what he is arter."
 
 BLCESKIN : A ROMANCF. 
 
 Ml 
 
 Upon reaching the door of the thief-taker's room, Steggs 
 tapped gently at it. 
 
 The nana] growling summons to enter was heard, so he 
 opened the door. 
 
 Steggs was careful to keep op the humble character he 
 had assumed. 
 
 He stood in an attitude of great Bubmissiveness waiting 
 for the thief-taker to speak. 
 
 It is questionable whether he could have hit on any 
 quality that would have so much recommended him to 
 Jonathan. 
 
 " Get a chair," said Wild, after a moment's pause, " and 
 eit down. I want to talk to you." 
 
 Steggs obeyed, but not without a great deal of mis- 
 giving. 
 
 " Can I trust you ? was Wild's first question, and as 
 spoke he looked keenly in the face of this new member 
 of his band. " Can I trust you P " 
 
 " I am your servant, Mr. Wild. Try me, if you please." 
 
 Steggs judged the thief-taker would be better pleased 
 with this reply than if he had uttered no end of protes- 
 tations as to his fidelity, and he was right. 
 
 " If you are willing to devote yourself entirely to my 
 interests, to be faithful to me in everything, you shall be a 
 rich man. I have wealth — incalculable wealth — but I 
 have much to achieve, and I want 6pme one upon whom 
 I can rely to assist me. You shall have a share of that 
 wealth of which I have spoken if you are content to do as 
 I require." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. As I said before, let me know what 
 I have to do, and you may depend upon its being done 
 faithfully. 
 
 " Good ! I have chosen you from the rest of my men 
 because I distrust them all. Now, tell me, do you know 
 how to solve the mystery of Mrs. Milliner's death ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild, I am 6orry I don't j but I will try to 
 find out." 
 
 "Do so, do so. Look, here are ten guineas. Take 
 them as an earnest of the payment I shall award you if 
 you do my behests and continue faithful." 
 
 He took ten guineas from his pocket as he spoke, and 
 gave them to Steggs, who extended his hand to receive 
 the coins. 
 
 " Many thanks, Mr. Wild. Oh ! dear, I really do hope 
 you will accept my thanks. Tell me what I am to do." 
 
 "Upstairs, began Jonathan, slowly, "on the second 
 floor, I have a prisoner confined in one of the bed- 
 rooms." 
 
 Steggs nodded his head, assentmgly, as though that 
 was the first he had heard or knew about it. 
 
 " I wish her to be carefully looked after, I have my 
 suspicions j but— no matter — no matter ! "Sour first duty, 
 you understand, will be to take up your position on the 
 second landing, in front of the door which I will show 
 you, and watch it attentively, taking care that no one goes 
 in to 6ee the prisoner but myself, and that the prisoner 
 does not escape. Do you understand me ?" 
 
 " Perfectly, Mr. Wild, perfectly. You shall be obeyed, 
 eir. Oh ! dear, yes, you shall be obeyed." 
 
 "Look to it. You will find it no small advantage to 
 have me for your friend. You would find me to be much 
 dreaded as an enemy. You have only to be faithful to 
 tho trust I repose in you." 
 
 " When shall Lcommence this duty, if you please, Mr. 
 Wild ?" 
 
 " Now, at once. Keep a sharp look-out, and any little 
 circumstance which may occur, and which seems suspi- 
 cious, let me know of it." 
 
 " I will. Mr. Wild. You may depend upon me," said 
 Bteggs, rising. 
 
 "Let me caution yon," said T*»ld "against treachery. 
 If you are guilty of it, I shall be sure to detect you, 
 eooner or later, and then woe be to you ' " 
 
 Steggs shuddered involuntarily. 
 
 He had never heard the thief-taker speak so calmly 
 before, and he fancied he had never known him to be so 
 terribly in earnest. 
 
 it was strange to see how Wild favoured Steggs'i views 
 —played into his hands, in fact. 
 
 Muttering another sentence about obeying his commands 
 to the letter, he withdrew. 
 
 He made his way upstairs at once, and took up bis posi- 
 tion before the chamber door, 
 
 Steggs was a man who felt always doubtful of success. 
 
 Here was the very thing he had been scheming to do 
 placed in his grasp without the least trouble. 
 
 He would have felt better pleased if he had had diffi. 
 culties and dangers to contend against before he secured 
 his object. 
 
 He sat down on the stairs, and thought of his own 
 situation — of that of the fair prisoner he had determined 
 to set free — and the chances there were of his performing 
 his ulterior designs. 
 
 All seemed favourable. 
 
 Fain would he hare put an end to that suspense which 
 he knew Edgworth Bess must be suffering, but he dreaded 
 to be caught communicating with her. 
 
 He must wait. 
 
 He felt consoled that he should be there as a guard over 
 her. He would not suffer any harm to come to her while 
 he was able to defend her. 
 
 And so, watching and waiting, the long, weary night 
 passed away. 
 
 Very early indeed, Wild came up to see the sentinel. 
 
 " Is all well ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild ; I have kept watch all night, but no 
 one has moved — nothing has happened." 
 
 " Be away as little as you can ; I will take care to make 
 it known among the men that you are here on this special 
 service for me. 
 
 "Oh! dear. If you please, Mr. Wild, yes. They 
 seem very unfriendly with me, indeed, and I shouldn't, 
 wonder if they don't invent all manner of tales about me." 
 
 " Heed them not ; they will have no weight with me . 
 I know them well, the cowardly, villainous set. They all 
 live in hopes of seeing me hanged some day, but I will 
 take care they don't. Ha! ha ! " 
 
 "But, Mr. Wild" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You will excuse me " ■ 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " I have not had anything to eat since yesterday ! " 
 
 " Ah ! yes ; I had forgotten that. Never mind, I will 
 have some breakfast sent up to you at once. Have you 
 thought over what I said to you last night P " 
 
 "I have, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I have 6ome great schemes in hand, but I caunot 
 carry them out myself j Iwant6ome one who will serve 
 me faithfully to assist me in them. That person will have 
 for his reward a fortune." 
 
 " Oh ! Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Yes, a fortune! Bear in mind, a fortiine! You 
 have the chance j let me see that you are faithful to 
 me," 
 
 "I have not had an opportunity of proving it to you, 
 Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I know that, but so far very good. I am satisfied. I 
 have never yet found any one who would be true to mo 
 and my interests. It has been my fate to be betrayed by 
 those whom I most trusted," 
 
 It seemed rather 6trange, but such, indeed, was ths 
 case. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had never had one person who vras 
 faithful, 
 
 And now, in the present instance, he was doomed to 
 the same fate. 
 
 After a few more words of similar import, Jonathan 
 descended the stairs. 
 
 Steggs was avaricious. 
 
 He could not help it. 
 
 It was a kind of instinct firmly implanted in his breast, 
 and which nothing would be able to eradicate. 
 
 When the thief- taker had left him, he a it down on the 
 stairs again, and, covering his face with his hands, he 
 muttered — 
 
 "What shall I do? Is Jonathan sincere ? Ho " .wis 
 so — suppose I was to trust him. Suppose I threw myself 
 heart and 60ul into those schemes which he alone Las 
 power to form, and which could be better carried out by 
 two than one. I know not, I know not. A man ought 
 to look after his own interests. The question is, is Jona- 
 than sincere ? If I could once be sure upon this point 
 I should know how to act. As it is, I am bewildered." 
 
 Steggs was silent. 
 
 Presently the man came up with his breakfast, and this 
 interrupted his chain of thought, for he was all but 
 starving, so many hours had elapsed since he had takeo 
 food.
 
 2H2 
 
 BLTTESKIS: A UOMAlfCl. 
 
 The man who brought the meal put down the tray 
 without a word. 
 
 The reader can see the danger in which, eve:; V, 
 Edgworth Bess was placed. 
 
 Steggs was one who had no fixed notions of good and 
 evil. There are many others like him, who are afclious 
 only to secure their own good, even if it be at the eipesae 
 of another's detriment. 
 
 The motives which had led him to espouse the caase of 
 Edgworth Bess were not so much a desire to see her 
 instated in her rights, as it was to be revenged upon 
 Jonathan Wild and Lord Donmull. 
 
 But, upon coming before the thief-taker, he had found 
 him willing to reward him, and that in a most liberal 
 scale, for serving him. 
 
 He had already ten guineas in his pocket as an earnest 
 of what was to come. 
 
 Over and over again did he ask himself the ques- 
 tion — 
 
 " Is Jonathan sincere ? " and from the manner in 
 which he uttered it, it could be told, that he only wanted 
 to bo assured of that fact, to devote himself wholly and 
 solely to his interests. 
 
 We tremble when we think of the awful position in 
 which those three persons are cast in whose fortunes we 
 feel so deep an interest, and all through the avarice of a 
 man who, they believed, was really in earnest in his 
 desire to help them. 
 
 Should he join Wild, alas ! for Edgworth Bess. She 
 would have no room to hope. 
 
 Blueskin, too, and Jack Sheppard, would quickly 
 fall into his clutches, and be ruthlessly disposed of. 
 
 But leaving Steggs to weigh over this question in his 
 mind, and come to some decision, we will turn our 
 attention to the doings of the great thief- taker him- 
 self. 
 
 After leaving Steggs, he went over to the eating-house 
 in Giltspur-street, where, having dispatched a hearty 
 meal, he returned to his office, and settled down to the 
 ordinary business of the day. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD DISCOVERS THAT JACK SHEPPARD HAS 
 ESCAPED, AND PURSUES HIM WITHOUT DELAY. 
 
 The tolling of the alarm-bell was the first indication 
 Jonathan received that Jack Sheppard had escaped. 
 
 As soon as he heard the ominous sound he started 
 to his feet, with a tremendous oath upon his lips, and 
 listened. 
 
 Boom — boom — boom ! 
 
 The sound rose above all the other din of the noisy 
 city. 
 
 "What is it?" he cried. "Curses! Is it fire? or 
 is it an escape ? No — no. Not that — not that." 
 
 He listened again, and found what he most dreaded 
 to hear realized. 
 
 It was not fire. 
 
 There were only two occasions when the huge alarm- 
 bell was rung. 
 
 One was for fire. 
 
 Another was when a prisoner had escaped. 
 
 But, if the bell had rung forth for the former reason, 
 there would have mingled with its alarum the awful cry of 
 " Fire." 
 
 That cry, however, did not come to Wild's ears. 
 
 All he heard was the murmur of voices. 
 
 He threw up the window with a crash. 
 
 Then those cries which had before been indefinite and 
 indistinguishable could be plainly heard. 
 
 " Stop thief! Stop thief! Stop them ! An escape ! 
 Break jail ! An escape ! There they go ! Stop thief ! " 
 
 " A thousand curses," yelled Jonathan Wild, bringing 
 the window down, and putting on his hat. " A thousand 
 curses ! Jack Sheppard has made a second escape ! " 
 
 More like a madman than a sane being, he rushed down 
 the stairs. 
 
 * Open the door, fool ! " he yelled to the man on the 
 lock. " Get a dozen horses saddled at once, and call men 
 to ride them. Let them be well armed." 
 
 So saying, he sprung through the door, and alighted on 
 the pavement, without touching any of the steps in his 
 course. 
 
 On reaching the corner of the Old Bailey, he was met 
 
 by a throng of people, who were all going in a contrary 
 direction to himself. 
 
 But he did not care. He fought his way through like a 
 maniac, and he forced the people to give way before 
 him. 
 
 Panting — breathless — and almost exhausted, he reached 
 the lodge of Newgate. 
 
 He endeavoured to buoy himself up with the hope that 
 it was some other prisoner who had escaped, not Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 Should it be so, how glad he would feel. He would not 
 stir an inch to assist in his recapture. 
 
 " Who — who has escaped ? he asked. " Who has 
 escaped ? Tell me — tell me ! Where is the governor ? " 
 
 " Here," said a voice, and Mr. Noakes, in a state of the 
 utmost bewilderment, elbowed his way forward. 
 
 " Who has escaped ? " 
 
 "Jack Sheppard!" 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" yelled Wild, although he had fully 
 anticipated what the reply would be. " Jack Sheppard ? 
 A thousand curses ! " 
 
 " Look here ! " said the governor, and, as he spoke, he 
 showed where Jack had broken off the spike. 
 
 The thief-taker understood all at once. 
 
 He did not wait to hear any more. 
 
 Every moment was taking his prey further and further 
 away from him. 
 
 He dashed out of the lodge again, and fought his way 
 to the door of his own house. 
 
 Here he found the horses waiting, and his men 
 mounting. 
 
 " Quick," he screamed at the top of his voice, for he 
 had never been in such a state of excitement before. 
 " Quick. Mount, all of you, and follow me. Have your 
 pistols ready in your hands. Jack Sheppard has escaped ! " 
 
 Uttering these words, he sprang on to the back of the 
 horse which had been provided for his use. 
 
 He looked round him. 
 
 The direction in which the people were runuing afforded 
 him a pretty good idea of the direction which the prisoners 
 had taken. 
 
 That was up Giltspur-street into Smithfield. 
 
 He had no spurs on, but he dashed his heels violently 
 against the horse's sides, and was round the corner like a 
 shot. 
 
 In a disorderly throng the men followed. 
 
 Their hoofs made a tremendous clatter, and the people 
 opened, and allowed them to pass through unimpeded. 
 
 Across Smithfield and up St. John's-street went Wild, 
 at the very top of his speed. 
 
 He soon reached the foremost rank of those on foot, and 
 he could tell by their cries that the fugitives were not 
 much further in advance. 
 
 This urged him to make fresh exertion. 
 
 When Blueskin got into the cart, it will be remembered 
 Johnson already had the reins in his hands, and he drove 
 off at once. 
 
 Blueskin's first act was to disencumber himself of the 
 female apparel which he had on, and which proved a great 
 hindrance to his movements. 
 
 This did not take long, nor did it give him much 
 trouble. 
 
 He flung the bundle into the street. 
 
 Then he took from his pocket a brace of pistols, and got 
 them ready for immediate service. 
 
 These he placed in Jack's hands. 
 
 Then, taking two others, he prepared them in the same 
 manner, reserving them for his own use. 
 
 And now the sounds of pursuit became more unequivo- 
 cal. 
 
 Johnson lashed the horse furiously, and they tore along 
 at a terrific speed. 
 
 It was not, however, it must be understood, the people 
 who first gave the alarm who kept up with them. They 
 could not have made speed enough. 
 
 But the alarm travelled. 
 
 The cry passed from mouth to mouth, and was taken up 
 with a rapidity that was really astounding. 
 
 Prom every house, from every alley, and every street, 
 the people poured in countless shoals. 
 
 Despite his efforts, Johnson could not make the horse 
 out-distance these. 
 
 It was a fleet, long-winded animal, too, and it got ovai 
 the ground at a most prodigious rate.
 
 Bat now (hey heard load cries and shonts in their rear, 
 showing that something fresh had taken place. 
 Then followed the clattering of horses' hoofs. 
 Clearer— clearer, loader ana more distinct, became the 
 sound. 
 
 They looked back. 
 
 The crowd of people parted right and left. 
 
 Then through the channel which was thus made, came 
 a troop of horsemen. 
 
 It was fancy at first which made them think the fore- 
 most rider was Jonathan Wild, but they soon found that it 
 was really him. 
 
 They heard the loud tones of his disagreeable voice, now 
 hoarse with continued shouting. 
 
 They saw him wave his arms in an excited manner to 
 his men. 
 
 That they were gaining on them was quite evident. 
 
 Blueskin cocked the pistols, and quietly told Jack to do 
 the same. 
 
 Johnson gave all his attention to the horse. 
 
 But in spite of all his efforts he could not make it go 
 at the same rate as those which had to carry men upon 
 their backs, instead of having to draw a cart containing 
 three people after it. 
 
 Still the rate it went, at was really astonishing. 
 
 Neither Johnson nor Blueskin had anticipated so sudden 
 and energetic a pursuit. They were in hopes of getting 
 to a distance before the escape was discovered. 
 
 However, there was nothing left to do now but to fight 
 for their lives and liberties. 
 
 " Halt ! " cried Wild, as soon as he found himself near 
 enough to be heard. " Surrender, I say ! It is in vain 
 to fly. Surrender, or I fire ! " 
 
 Of coarse no notiee was taken of this speech, except 
 that Johnson gave the horse a few more cuts with the 
 whip to make him go faster. 
 
 But Jonathan was as good as his word. 
 
 They saw him raise his arm. 
 
 Then there was a bright flash and a report. 
 
 He fired. 
 
 But the shot was aimless, and the bullet flew high above 
 their heads. 
 
 " Shot for shot ! " exclaimed Blueskin. 
 
 He levelled one of his pistols as he spoke, and fired. 
 
 Being in a cart, he had a much better chance of taking 
 a correct aim at anything than Wild had on horseback. 
 
 But still the shot did not seem effective. 
 
 Jonathan did not slacken his speed in the least. 
 
 He was now most alarmingly close behind them. 
 
 His troop of men, too, were closing up. 
 
 Blueskin had not noticed Jack. 
 
 He had crouched down in the back of the cart. 
 
 He held in his hand one of the pistols he had received. 
 
 He was resting the barrel of it on the backboard of the 
 cart, and endeavouring to cover his old foe. 
 
 When he had a good aim, he determined to fire, and so 
 rid himself for ever of his implacable and barbarous 
 enemy. 
 
 For a long time, owing to the jolting of the cart, he 
 found his attempt an unsuccessful one. 
 
 But he got accustomed to the motion, and besides, they 
 were in a smoother bit of road than any they had yet 
 had. 
 
 Feeling certain that the pistol covered the whole body 
 of his enemy, he fired. 
 
 At the same moment he pulled the trigger, or so it 
 seemed to him, Wild swerved slightly in the saddle, and 
 he fancied he heard him utter a cry of pain. 
 
 But about this last he was not quite sure. 
 
 Suddenly Jonathan raised his arm and fired again. 
 
 But his shot went wide of the mark, for at that moment 
 he threw up his arms with a yell of pain, and after swaying 
 for a moment from side to side upon his horse, he fell 
 headlong to the ground. 
 
 Whether by accident, or whether by design, at any rate 
 his feet were disengaged from the stirrups, for as he fell 
 with a crash into the roadway, his horse galloped on 
 without him. 
 
 This put a moment's elop to the pursuit, a very great 
 thing for our friends, since it enabled them to increase the 
 distance between them and their pursuers. 
 
 The country had now been reached, and on both sides 
 of them were meadows and hedgerows, which make an 
 English landscape so enchanting. i 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXIII. 
 
 FLOOD AMD BLEWITT RECEIVE THEIR JUST DUE, AND ARE 
 EXECUTED AT TYBURN. 
 
 Jonathan Wild's men, when they perceived their leader 
 fall headlong into the roadway, pulled up at once. 
 
 That was their first impulse, though they did not know 
 whether they should be acting rightly by so doing. 
 
 They raised him up. 
 
 He groaned slightly, and then fell into a state of insen- 
 sibility or death. 
 
 Which it was his men could not tell. There was not 
 one, perhaps, who did not wish it was the latter, but they 
 all doubted, because they had a deep-settled conviction 
 that Jonathan would die at Tyburn. 
 
 What to do was a question they asked each other, with- 
 out being able to elicit a reply. 
 
 While they were deliberating and undecided, the fugi- 
 tives had got out of sight and hearing. 
 
 At length they resolved to construct a kind of litter or 
 bier, using whatever came readiest to the hand for that 
 purpose. 
 
 On this they placed their helpless leader, and four car- 
 ried it along. 
 
 Blood flowed in great quantities from two wounds. 
 
 One was in the breast. 
 
 The other in the head. 
 
 Without the least signs of life, he lay, an inert mass, 
 just where his men placed him. 
 
 It was not long before they met those who were fol- 
 lowing on foot. 
 
 It was deemed desirous to avoid these if possible, so the 
 janizaries and their burden took an abrupt turn to the 
 left. 
 
 They had not gone far in this direction before they saw 
 shining in the distance one of those red lamps which were 
 then invariably hung before the doors of surgeons. 
 
 Seeing this, a couple ran on first to call the man up, in 
 order that Jonathan's wounds might be attended to at 
 once. 
 
 By the time they had explained the nature of their 
 errand, those who carried the body of the thief-taker 
 arrived. 
 
 Here his wounds were dressed, during which operation 
 Jonathan recovered from his swoon. 
 
 But it was only a partial regainment of his senses, for 
 his memory did not come back to him. 
 
 The surgeon, fearing some violence which might make 
 the wound even more dangerous than it was already, ad- 
 ministered a powerful opiate, which had the effect of 
 sending him to sleep at once. 
 
 Then, by the direction of the surgeon, he was taken to 
 his own house in Newgate-street, and placed in bed. 
 
 Here he remained during the rest of the night, and the 
 whole of the next day and night succeeding. 
 
 It was not until Monday morning that he awoke. 
 
 In the meantime the utmost consternation took place 
 in Newgate. 
 
 The governor was like a madman. 
 
 The various officials by whose negligence Jack's escape 
 was greatly assisted shook in their shoes. 
 
 All London rang with the fame of the youth who had 
 twice, and with so short an interval between, broken out 
 of the strongest prison in the kingdom. 
 
 It would not be going too far to say that in every house 
 in the metropolis it furnished the subject for conversation. 
 
 No time had elapsed for any notice to be taken of it by 
 the government, though all knew a rigid investigation 
 would be the result. 
 
 Jonathan's mishap, too, was much spoken of. 
 
 The prisoner and his accomplice had not been secured. 
 
 But while the officials in the prison were so fearful of 
 the consequences of what had taken place, they had be- 
 come] extra vigilant. 
 
 Blewitt and Flood were most closely watched. 
 
 They heard of the escape of their companion with mor- 
 tification and regret. 
 
 They had become almost reconciled to their fate so long 
 as they thought Jack was going to share it with them, 
 but now he had escaped they were discontented. 
 
 They were violent, too, and they had the greatest 
 trouble to keep them in order. 
 
 So Sunday passed. 
 
 Monday came. J
 
 s£r>4 
 
 BLOESKDf: A ROMANCK. 
 
 At a very early hour tlie people began to assemble in 
 front of the prison, for although a hanging in those days 
 was a by no means unusual sight, yet there were special 
 events connected with this one which made it of peculiar 
 interest. 
 
 At Tyburn, too, the people collected in great numbers, 
 and by the time appointed for the procession to start, 
 there was quite a Hue of people all along the Oxford-road, 
 from the prison to the place of execution, which was about 
 two miles distant. 
 
 The sheriffs and the governor whispered together, and 
 talked over Jack's extraordinary escape. 
 
 The place where he had broken the spike off and squeezed 
 through, wa8 pointed out to them, but the aperture was 
 so contracted that they could scarcely bring themselves to 
 believe that it was possible for a human being to get 
 through, however lithe and agile he might be. 
 
 The governor tried all he could to conciliate the sheriffs, 
 for he dreaded that one of the results of the inquiry which 
 would be made respecting the escape would be his own 
 dismissal. 
 
 He felt very thankful that Jonathan was incapacitated 
 from attending. 
 
 From him he had everything to dread. He knew how 
 particularly he had set his heart upon having Jack hanged 
 that very Monday morning. 
 
 He could, of course, justly or unjustly, lay all the fault 
 upon his shoulders. 
 
 Ho gave a sigh of satisfaction when he thought how 
 remarkably safe he was in bed, unable to stir, and set 
 about superintending the hanging preparations with a 
 better heart. 
 
 But he would not have felt quite so inspirited if he had 
 been able to take a peep at the celebrated thief-taker at 
 that very moment. 
 
 lie bad woke up. 
 
 Woke up for the first time since his mishap, with a 
 dear niemoi'y and perfect recollection of what had taken 
 plane. 
 
 He was thinking things over, and wondering how long 
 he had lain there, and whether Jack had been recaptured, 
 when bis attention was directed to the door, which some 
 ijne opened quietly. 
 
 In another moment, and treading as though he had 
 eggs beneath his feet, Mr. Snoxall crept into the room. 
 
 He was surprised to find his patient awake, and staring 
 at htm in a manner that proved, beyond doubt, he waa 
 restored to consciousness. 
 
 Jonathan raised himself up in bed a little, and then in 
 a. very serious voice, he asked — 
 
 "What is to-day, Mr, Snoxall?" 
 
 " To-day ? " 
 
 " Yes. What day of the week is it P " 
 
 " Monday, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Monday ? " shrieked the thief -taker. M Monday f" 
 What is the time ? " 
 
 The apothecary took from his fob an enormous silver 
 watch, and said — 
 
 " Ten minutes to ten, Mr. Wild." 
 
 The impatience and anxiety with which Jonathan 
 waited for this reply cannot be conceived. 
 
 But when he heard it a hideous grin overspread his 
 features, as he replied — 
 
 "Ah ! then, I am in time. I won't be cheated of that, 
 at least." 
 
 " In time for what ? " 
 
 Wild made no reply. 
 
 He jumped out of bed. 
 
 " Murder ! " cried the apothecary. " Murder 1 " 
 
 " Hold your row ! Give me my clothes ! " 
 
 "But, Mr. Wild" 
 
 " Give me my clothes ! " 
 
 " But consider." 
 
 "Jonathan made such a ferocious grimace at this 
 moment, that Mr. Snoxall ceased to nfake any further 
 remonstrance. 
 
 He did as he was desired. 
 
 In a very short time Jonathan was fully attired. 
 
 The wound in his breast was not a serious one, being 
 little more than skin deep. 
 
 The bullet was almost spent when it reached him, and 
 it had just glanced against his ribs. 
 
 But tho one in his head, and which had produced 
 bis insensibility, was another affair 
 
 It was of a most formidable and dangerous character. 
 
 But it had been skilfully treated, and Wild waa one 
 who soon recovered from an injury. 
 
 The wound was going on most favourably, but Mr. 
 Snoxall dreaded this sudden excitement. 
 
 Jonathan had it redressed, but would suffer no bandag* 
 to be placed over it. It was simply strapped up with 
 plaister. 
 
 His heaj was quite bald, which was to some extent an 
 advantage, so far as healing the wound went. 
 
 This done, he put on his wig and hat. 
 
 He was now quite dressed, and, at first sight, lookiaf; 
 none the worse for the fearful injuries he had received. 
 
 It was one of Jonathan's ideas to try and make himself 
 appear invulnerable, and he often kopt up the appearance 
 at the expense of great bodily pain. 
 
 In the present instance, although he carried things off 
 with a high hand, he felt far from well. 
 
 He left the bed, soon followed by Mr. Snoxall, and 
 descended the stairs. 
 
 When he reached the hall below, however, such a 
 frightful feeling of weakness came over him that he almo3t 
 sank to the ground. 
 
 But he rallied himself, and called for brandy. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall was horrified. 
 
 He gave his patient up for lost. 
 
 Quilt Arnold brought him a tumbler full of brandy, 
 from a cupboard in the office, where a good supply of the 
 spirit was always kept. 
 
 Jonathan drank half of it off at a draught. 
 
 He did just pause then to draw breath, but that was 
 all. 
 
 Oue more gulp, and the remainder disappeared. 
 
 He felt giddy and sick for a moment afterwards, but 
 the factitious vigour which the brandy induced was soon 
 apparent. 
 
 His eyes gleamed with unnatural lustre. 
 
 " My horse ! " • he cried, "my horse! EW'-h him I 
 Quick !" 
 
 Tonks darted off to execute this commission. 
 
 In a few moments he returned, to say that the horse 
 was at the door waiting. 
 
 Jonathan walked along the passage with a tolerably 
 steady step, and mounted. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD EIDE8 TO TYBUBN AS PAEr OP THE 
 PBOCESSION, AND WITNESSES THE EXECUTION OF HIS 
 TWO FOLLOWEBS, FLOOD AND BLEWITT. 
 
 The first thing that attracted Wild's notice, after he 
 mounted, was the immense crowd of people which he 
 could see stretching before him down Snow-hill. 
 
 Then, immediately aftei wards, his ears were assailed by 
 a cry which he had heard too often, and knew too well, 
 not to understand. 
 
 The cry came from the mob. 
 
 It signified that the procession was about to start. 
 
 Grinning in a more ghastly and hideous manner than 
 before, Jonathan guided his horse to the top of the Old 
 Bailey. 
 
 Not without difficulty, he drew his heavy cutlass from 
 its sheath. 
 
 The people made way for him. 
 
 He was known. 
 
 His appearance was greeted by some with a cheer. 
 
 By others with a loud yell of derision and hatred. 
 
 But, paying attention to neither of these, for Wild knew 
 how to estimate the opinion of a mob assembled on hanging 
 mornings, he contrived to force his way down the sheet 
 until he joiued the procession. 
 
 He nodded in a friendly and semi-respectful manner to 
 the sheriffs. 
 
 He scowled at the governor, who felt remarkably un- 
 comfortable at seeing him abroad so soon. 
 
 Still Jonathan pushed on till he came to the cart is 
 which the two prisoners were seated. 
 
 Then he wheeled his horse round and walked by the 
 side of it. 
 
 His eyes gleamed with baleful triumph, and the two 
 men, after one glance, turned away, unablo to bear that 
 basilisk -like gaze. 
 
 And so the procession went on— and on.
 
 BLUr.$KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 THE HORSE FALLS EXHAUSTED ON THE ROAD, TO THE DESPAIR OF JACK AND HIS FRIENDS. 
 
 Round the corner of the Old Bailey into Skinner-street, 
 down Snow -bill, and up the opposite steep ascent. 
 
 It was customary to make a pause for a moment or so 
 at this place, in order that the horse who drew the cart 
 might recover a little from his exertion. 
 
 But the hangman, who w-.is driving, soon whipped him 
 up again, for as he glanced up to the clock of St. Andrew s 
 Church, he saw \>«* *hey were already a little behind 
 time. , , , - j 
 
 The immense and densely-packed mob hooted and 
 yelled, and hissed, as they usually did upon such occa- 
 sions. 
 
 The procession was of tolerable length. 
 But those in the van had no small difficulty in forcing a 
 passage through the compact and living mass. } 
 
 It was not that they did not shrink from the horses 
 hoofs, or the cutlasses of the officers, but the pressure was 
 so great that they could not retreat. 
 When they had passed the end of Gray's Inn-lane, 
 ^ however, the crowd was very much thinner. 
 
 But this was only felt by those in advance, for as the 
 procession moved, the people walked with .':. 
 
 The jollity and bravado which Flood and Blewitt liaa 
 exhibited in the condemned hold had quite departed now. 
 Moodily— their eyes bloodshot, and their heads bent down 
 upon their bosoms, they listened to the exhortations of the 
 chaplain who, attired in full canonicals, sat on the o-*>osite 
 side of the cart. .. 
 
 But the voice of the man of Jod could barely be dis- 
 tinguished above the "*i.n of the crowd, who^kept up a 
 perpetual roar. ' , , 
 
 There was very little, if any sympathy felt for the two 
 men in the cart. . . ., 
 
 Had Jack been there, according to Wild s intention, tne 
 case might have been very different. 
 
 On— on the dismal procession forced its way. 
 
 Holborn was passed, and St. Giles's reached. 
 
 In the High-street was a public-house, which was 
 stated to be half way between Kewgate and lyburn. 
 
 At this public-house, from time immemorial, it bad 
 
 No. 34.
 
 86f 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 been customary for the procession to halt for a few minutes 
 for refreshment. 
 
 A bowl of punch, provided by the landlord, was brought 
 out, which was held to the lips of the condemned men, 
 some of whom barely tasted it, while others would drix-.k 
 a large quantity. 
 
 This custom was not departed from iu the present in- 
 stance. 
 
 All came to a halt. 
 
 At this place the pressure was awful, for people wtio 
 wished to have a good view of the prisoners, had taken 
 up their stations there hours before. 
 
 The police-officers, however, cleared a space, and ranged 
 themselves round it in a circle. 
 
 The bowl of hot steaming punch was brought out. 
 
 The landlord of the public-house carried it. 
 
 He held it aloft. 
 
 The people gave a loud cheer. 
 
 Blewitt was nearest, so he had the punch presented 
 to him first. 
 
 He drank ^ith avidity, and was repeatedly cheered by 
 the populace for so doing. 
 
 Then it was handed to Flood, who made an attempt to 
 swallow a mouthful, but failed. 
 
 The poor wretch was completely overcome by the im- 
 mediate prospect of that death which he had so often seen 
 inflicted upon others. 
 
 The people hissed. 
 
 This seemed to revive him a little, and he looked 
 round with lack-lustre eyes. 
 
 Then he made another effort to drink. 
 
 But with no better success. 
 
 Finding this to be the case, and stimulated by the quan- 
 tity of the hot beverage of which he had previously par- 
 taken, Blewitt uttered an awful oath, and asked for the 
 remnant. 
 
 Then, amidst vociferous cheering, he swallowed the 
 whole — drained the bowl to the dregs. 
 
 The landlord, admiring his pluck, held up the empty 
 vessel with the bottom uppermost, upon which he tapped 
 with his fingers, to signify that it was empty. 
 
 There was another cheer, and then the order was given 
 for the procession to resume its march. 
 
 Up the narrow crooked High-street they went, then 
 the refuge of the lowest of the low, and the haunt of the 
 most vicious persons in all England, and round the corner 
 into Oxford-road they went. 
 
 No shops and houses then lined the spacious street. It 
 was a country high-road, with gardens and meadows on 
 either side. 
 
 Keeping steadily along this, and going at a better speed, 
 they at length approached their destination. 
 
 Long before the gallows itself was in sight, they could 
 tell by the shoals of people which they met. 
 
 All round the ill-omened spot, a crowd denser than any 
 through which they had forced a passage, had congre- 
 gated. 
 
 Through this they would never have got, had not a 
 body of officers, mounted on horseback, kept a kind of lane 
 for them to pass through. 
 
 Seated as they were, the wretched prisoners could not 
 see in advance without turning their heads. 
 
 The gallows came in sight. 
 
 That strangely formed instrument of execution, the like 
 of_ which has been seen by few now living, with its three 
 triangularly placed upright pieces of timber aud transverse 
 beams. 
 
 But thoueh they did not look, they could tell k was in 
 view. 
 
 The hoarse cries of the people told them that. 
 
 Besides, the different objects on the road were familiar 
 to them, and they knew the spot from which the first view 
 of the gallows could be obtained. 
 
 At length the procession passed through the two ranks 
 of police-officers of which we have spoken. 
 
 They had occupied that position since daybreak. 
 
 As the procession passed through, they turned u» and 
 formed part of if. 
 
 Jonathan still rode by the side of the cart. 
 
 He had not once moved from that position after taking 
 it. 
 
 There was a clear space all round the scaffold. 
 
 It was kept by a body of halberdiers, who stood two 
 
 deep, and formed as firm a barrier to the crowd as a w&D 
 would have done. 
 
 This open space was reached. 
 
 The chaplain grew more earnest in his exhortations. 
 
 Blewitt, however, maddened by the fiery drink ho had 
 swallowed, broke out into a song, tb9 burden of which 
 was taken up by the mob. 
 
 He had resolved to die game. 
 
 But Flood, who all his life had been so blustering a 
 bully, was quite weighed down. 
 
 Ho seemed already like one dead— very certain is it 
 that he was quite unconscious of what was taking place 
 around him. 
 
 The cart was driven beneath the fatal beam. 
 
 The horse, who had been well trained to his work, 
 stopped of his own accord. 
 
 The executioner stood up, and was received with that 
 awful howling cry with which the dread functionary of 
 the law is always greeted. 
 
 Unmoved, however, by this demonstration of popular 
 dislike, the hangman drew deliberately from his pocket 
 two small white bundles. 
 
 He unrolled them one after the other, and then it could 
 be seen what they were. 
 
 They were the white caps which are drawn over the 
 faces of the condemned, in order to hide the convulsions 
 produced by strangulation. 
 
 Flood and Blewitt were already pinioned. 
 
 They were forced to stand up in the cart. 
 
 Tho white caps were drawn down over their faces 
 
 An officer supported Flood, or he would have fallen. 
 
 At this awful moment, when he stood upon the threshold, 
 of another world, and when the horror of his position 
 would, one would have thought, been most deeply felt, 
 Blewitt moved his feet about, and endeavoured to dance 
 in the bottom of the cart. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXV. 
 
 RELATES WHAT TOOK PLACE AFTER THE EXEOUTIOR Of 
 WILD'S TWO JANIZARIES 
 
 It was a horrible and disgusting spectacle 
 
 The chaplain turned away his head. 
 
 But the mob, when they perceived what was taking 
 place, applauded him. 
 
 The sounds reached the ears of the deluded rvffian, and 
 he continued his dance with greater energy. 
 
 ft was the hangman who put a period to tho per- 
 formance. 
 
 He shook Blewitt roughly, and then his assistant slipped 
 a rope round his ankles, and forming it into a running 
 poose, drew it tight. 
 
 He was then securely pinioned and quite helpless. 
 
 The expression of his face could not be seen, and so no 
 tongue can tell what the odd-shaped cap covered. 
 
 The ropes had been fixed to the fatal beam in readiness. 
 
 Long practice had imparted dexterity to the hangman's 
 movements, and he, with great rapidity, seized one of 
 them, and hastily tied the noose under his neck. 
 
 The same operation was performed upon Flood, who 
 had not recovered from his state of stupor and then the 
 preparations were complete. 
 
 Like some grim spirit of evil Jonathan Wild stood 
 beside the cart. 
 
 He had eyes for nothing save the two men. 
 
 The immense crowd of people, the authorities, all and 
 every one in fact, were unheeded by him. 
 
 Not a single movement that they made escaped his 
 watchful gaze. 
 
 When all was ready, and the chaplain had left the cart, 
 the hangman and his assistants descended. 
 
 The latter walked to the horse's head, for the reader- 
 must understand that the men about to he hanged were 
 not standing upon a platform of any kind, but in the 
 bottom of the cart. 
 
 The assistant then took a thick-thonged whip from the 
 place where he had stuck it between the shafts. 
 
 He struck the horse a sharp blow with it, and then 
 drew him forward. 
 
 The cumbrous wheels belonging to the venicle revolved. 
 
 The doomed men felt all that interpossd between them 
 and death slipping from beneath their feet, and they 
 powerless to prevent it, though several convulsive move-
 
 BLUESKJS: A EOMASCE. 
 
 86/ 
 
 ments which they made showed how they endeavoured to 
 do so. P 
 
 With a rumbling sound the cart was drawn quite away, 
 and then all that was left was two pendant figure 
 hanging from two of the triangular-shaped beams. 
 
 But the ceremony was scarcely over. 
 
 It would have taken some time for the men to have 
 strangled themselves by their own weight alone, so to put 
 them out of their misery, the hangman seized them by the 
 legs in rapid succession, and hung with his whole weight. 
 
 A few convulsive shudders followed, and then all was 
 over. 
 
 Limp and inanimate their bodies floated idly in the 
 breeze, which was just strong enough to make them move 
 to and fro. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, as sora as the deed was fully accom- 
 plished, raised his hand, and pointing towards the lifeless 
 forms, cried — 
 
 " Three groans for the murder of John Roots ! " 
 
 His words were caught by the foremost in the crowd 
 and instantly responded to, and the cry was at length 
 taken up by the whole of the assemblage. 
 
 Upon this, the governor of Newgate, who had kept as 
 much out of Wild's sight as possible, drew near. 
 
 Jonathan greeted him with an angry scowl. 
 
 Mr. Noakes observed it, and wished he had kept back, 
 but he could not retreat, so he said— 
 
 "Mr. Wild! Mr. Wild!" 
 
 "WellP" 
 
 " I trust you don't bear me any malice for what has 
 occurred." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " It was not my fault, nor the fault of any one in New- 
 gate. I wanted him hanged quite as much as vcu." 
 
 "Bah! : ' 
 
 " You might believe me, Mr. Wild." 
 
 ° You should have taken more care." 
 
 " I tooK every care, ' 
 
 " It does not look like it." 
 
 " Who would have suspected it ? I never should ; and 
 whether you like to believe me or not, the turnkeys, who 
 were sitting at the other end of the lodge, were talking 
 about his former escape, and sajing how necessary it 
 was for them to be vigilant." 
 
 "And yet he escaped again ? " 
 
 " He did, and I can't make out how. I should say it 
 was impossible for any one to have squeezed through so 
 small a space." 
 
 "Well, well, Mr. Noakes," 6aid Jonathan, whose blood- 
 thirsty spirit must have been to some extent appeased by 
 what had just taken place, " it is no good there being any 
 ill blood between us ; we shall get on best if we continue 
 friends. As for Jack Sheppard, the only way that you can 
 atone for his escape is to recapture him with as little delay 
 as possible." 
 
 '• I have tried my best to do that, Mr. Wild, and it will 
 be strange indeed if I do not succeed." 
 
 " Do so — do so. Both Jack and his accomplices would 
 nave been safe ere now had it not been for the wound I 
 was unlucky enough to receive. I feel it now — I feel it 
 now." 
 
 The thief-taker reeled in the saddle as he spoke, and, 
 perhaps, would have fallen to the ground, had not his 
 friend, the governor, lent him his assistance. 
 
 Jonathan was giddy. 
 
 But by an effort he mastered the feeling. 
 
 " You came out too soon, Mr. Wild," said the governor, 
 " and now you are suffering for it." 
 
 " No, no. It is nothing. I am all right now- It was 
 just a little giddiness, that was all." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it." 
 
 " Enough, Mr. Noakes. On this spot, and in sight of 
 those two villains yonder, I swear that I will take no irest 
 until Jack Sheppard swings there like tb^y do. It will 
 not be long before I keep my oath, for I ?ave many im- 
 portant matters to attend to; but revenge sets them 
 every one aside, and must be the first gratified." 
 
 " You will, then, take tho matter personally in hand, 
 and quite independent of what the government may 
 do?" 
 
 "Certainly; and, as I have the strongest motive to 
 urge me on, I shall be almost certain to succeed." 
 
 " I shall try to beat you, Mr. Wild ; but there is no 
 »e«d for us to stay here any loDgor, without you wish to 
 
 sen the crowd disperse; and if you wait for that, you will 
 have to etay here some time ; and look, the sheriffs aro 
 going." 
 
 " Wo will follow them, Mr. Noakes." 
 
 The governor was well pleased to find Jonathan eo 
 amicably disposed towards him, and the pair joined the 
 procession, which was then in the act of leaving. 
 
 The governor kept close to the side of the thief-taker, 
 endeavouring to still further conciliate him. 
 
 By the time they reached the Old Bailey, they were quite 
 good friends. 
 
 Jonathan repaired to his own house. He had carried 
 things off pretty well, but he was in such a state of ex- 
 haustion that he could scarcely support himself in the 
 saddle. 
 
 Suilt Arnold heard him arrive and opened the door. 
 e saw his master swaying backwards and forwards in 
 imminent danger of falling. 
 
 He ran down the steps at once, and assisted him to 
 alight from his steed. 
 
 Then he half carried him into the house. 
 
 Just as they entered the hall, Mr. Snoxall, who had been 
 up to see his patient, descended the stairs, and a meeting 
 took place. 
 
 Jonathan's countenance was ghastly in the extreme. 
 
 " Brandy ! " he gasped ; " give me brandy ! " 
 
 " I told you how it would be," exclaimed Mr. Snoxall \ 
 " I knew very well what would be the result ! Now take 
 my advice, Mr. Wild " 
 
 " Bah ! silence ! Brandy, I say. : 
 
 Quilt Arnold had long since learned the policy of im- 
 mediately complying with the thief-taker's orders, so he 
 started off to fetch the brandy. 
 
 He returned with it in a few moments. 
 
 Jonathan drank of it deeply. 
 
 The influence of the stimulant soon made itself ap- 
 parent. 
 
 But the strength which it produced was but of a fac- 
 titious character. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall spoke again, and this time he was listened 
 to. 
 
 "Mr. Wild, if you would only be guided by me." 
 
 " In what?" 
 
 " You are suffering from fearful wounds, or rather the 
 weakness which those wounds have caused. The brandy 
 you drink, although it may endow you with a momentary 
 strength, will scou depart, and leave you weaker than be- 
 fore.' 
 
 Jonathan felt the truth of all this, and the conviction 
 also dawned upon him, that if he neglected his own health, 
 he should be baulked of his revenge and all his schemes 
 of aggrandizement which he had formed. 
 
 This made him rather more temperate than usual, fes 
 he asked — 
 
 " What should you advise, Mr. Snoxall ? " 
 
 " In the first place, rest." 
 
 The thief-taker felt how acceptable rest would be to his 
 tried and debilitated frame. 
 
 " Rest not only of the body, but the mind," added the 
 apothecary. 
 
 Jonathan grinned. 
 
 " Can you not give me a medicine that will have the 
 same effect, and allow me action ? " 
 
 Mr. Snoxall shook his head. 
 
 " Then give me brandy ! " cried the thief-taker ; 
 " brandy, I say, and more of it. Brandy— brandy ! " •* 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXVI. 
 
 RETURNS TO STEGGS AND EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 Had not Jonathan Wild's constitution been as strong as 
 iron, it could never have withstood as it did the attacks 
 which were made upon it. 
 
 The brandy mounted to his brain. 
 
 A mist of blood seemed to envelop all things. 
 
 But that soon passed away, and he again f9lt that he 
 possessed a moiety at least of his ordinary strength. 
 
 For a pursuit after Jack Sheppard, to be of any avaU, 
 he knew it ought to be instituted at once, and he could 
 trust the .conduction of it into no other hands than his 
 swn. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall'r proposal was one that he could not listen 
 to at all. ,. 
 
 Turning round, then, he gave orders to Quilt to get to*
 
 968 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 getber as large a troop of men as he could, all mounted 
 and armed, and he would place himself at their K ead 
 and commence a vigorous pursuit of Jack Sheppard 
 
 In the meanwhile he went over into Giltspur-street and 
 made a good meal, which he washed down with plentiful 
 potations of port wine, which he 6ent for from a con. 
 tiguous puhlic-house. 
 
 By the time he had done this, Quilt had managed to 
 assemble a body of men somewhere about fifteen in 
 number. 
 These were all in the pay of the thief -taker. 
 In pursuance of the agreement made between them, 
 Quilt came over and told Wild, who was much the better 
 for the food he had eaten and the wine he had drunk. 
 
 He mounted his horse, and no one to have seen him 
 perform the act would have guessed his true condition. 
 
 The word of command was given to the troop, which 
 immediately put itself in motion. 
 
 Jonathan led them up Giltspur-street and through 
 Smithfield, into the open country. 
 
 But leaving the relation of what took place during his 
 journey, and the success he met with to another chapter, 
 we will go back a little, and turn our attention to a less 
 repulsive character in our history. 
 We allude to Steggs. 
 
 When we saw him, and left him last, it was as a sen tinel 
 before the door of the room in which poor Edgworth Bess 
 was imprisoned. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had uttered 6ome temptirjg promises to 
 him, and a struggle took place in his mind as to whether 
 He should accept them or not. 
 
 Fortunately Steggs already knew Jonathan's treacher- 
 ous nature. It had been displayed already. 
 
 Doubtless, had he been sincere in what he Baid, or if 
 Steggs could have believed him to be sincere, the condi- 
 tion of Edgworth Bess and her two defenders, Blueskin 
 and Jack Sheppard, would have been sad indeed. 
 
 For a long time Steggs sat and pondered, unable to 
 decide as to which way he should act. 
 He was dazzled by Wild's promises. 
 They were not unsubstantial ones either, for at that 
 moment he could feel ten guineas in his pocket — the 
 earnest — the first instalment of his future reward. 
 
 One thing only, perhaps, rose above his avarice, and 
 that was his revenge. 
 
 Even this he would like to purchase as cheaply as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 Steggs recollected the injuries he had received at Wild s 
 hands. 
 
 The desire for revenge increased 
 
 He felt that it would be a greater satisfaction to witness 
 the downfall of the thief-taker than it would be to witness 
 his elevation. 
 
 " I will play into his bands," he said ; " I cannot do 
 wrong then. I will fall into his views, but it 6hall be 
 warily ! I shall soon find whether he intends to be false 
 to me or not, and I shall know my course." 
 
 Having the means of entering the chamber in which 
 Edgworth Bess was confined whenever he thought proper, 
 he longed for an opportunity of communicating what he 
 had learned from Blueskin, for he with common cunning 
 wished to keep in with both parties, and then side with 
 the one which seemed to offer him the greatest advan- 
 tages. 
 
 - But he dreaded to enter the room while Wild was in 
 the house, or anywhere near at hand. 
 
 The thief-taker remained in his ofiice the whole of the 
 day; and it being Saturday night, he was engaged in total- 
 ling tip his week's profits, when the clanging of the alarm 
 bell of Newgate smote upon his ears. 
 He dropped his pen, and then rushed out. 
 Jonathan had left orders that Steggs was to be supplied 
 with food at regular intervals, and it was soon after this 
 event that the waiter from the eating-house in Giltspur- 
 street came up with a meal on a tray. 
 
 This man was, of course, full of Jack's escape, ths ac- 
 count of which Steggs received without astonishment. 
 
 In reply to his questions, however, the man told bin.' 1 
 that Wild had mounted a horse and set off in pursuit 
 
 That he would be absent for some time, and that he' 
 should hear his return, Steggs felt certain. 
 
 Here, then, was the opportunity for winch tie ^nad 
 looged. 
 
 Accordingly, as soon as the waiter took his departure, he 
 crossed the landing on tip-toe, and tapped at the door. 
 
 A faint " come in " followed, and inserting the skeleton- 
 key in the lock, he turned it in the wards and entered. 
 
 The poor prisoner started up, and greeted him with a 
 wan smile. 
 
 Sieggs had a heart. 
 That smile touched it. 
 
 It is wonderful what an alteration a little thing will 
 produce. 
 
 When he saw that smile, Steggs forgot Wild and all 
 his glittering promises; he forgot his avarice, and the 
 desire to render a service to the poor girl who looked up 
 to him so confidingly, and who believed him to be her 
 friend, rose paramount to every other feeling. 
 
 " Tell me, tell me," she exclaimed, in a feeble voice, " tell 
 me all you know at once. This suspense will kill me! 
 Where is Jack?" 
 " He has escaped." 
 
 A cry of joy, which she could not have suppressed had 
 her life depended upon it, came from her lips. 
 Steggs looked terrified. 
 
 He was afraid that some one would hear her, and held 
 up his hand. 
 
 She saw it, and asked, in a suppressed voice — 
 " Is it — is it true ? Can it really be true ? Has he 
 escaped ? " 
 
 "Be silent, I beg," said Steggs, "for my sake — for 
 your's — for Jack's ! 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I will not cry out again, but I could not 
 control myself before. Answer me ! Oh ! you cannot 
 tell what I have suffered from suspense during all the 
 weary time which has elapsed since I saw you last. 
 Don't keep me in that suspense any longer, pray do 
 not, but ease my heart. You told me that he was iu 
 Newgate!" 
 
 " I did, and so he was. He has been tried, and cast 
 for death, but he has escaped. I have seen Blueskin." 
 "Have you? When?* 
 " Yesterday." 
 " Well ? " 
 
 "He told me he had a plan arranged by which he 
 hoped to be able to accomplish Jack's escape." 
 " He is a good friend." 
 
 " Since then I have not seen or heard anything of him, 
 but I have just learned that the plan has been suc- 
 cessful." 
 "Thank heaven!" 
 " Can you hear that bell tolling ? " 
 The loud clanging of the alarm-bell could be heard 
 quite plainly in the chamber. 
 
 "I do ; I have heard it for some time. What does it 
 mean ? " 
 
 " It means that a prisoner has broken out of Newgate, 
 and the prisoner that it tolls for is Jack Sheppard ! " 
 Edgworth Bess clasped her hands together and listened. 
 She thought she had never heard such sweet music as 
 that dissonant bell, but soon another thought struck her, 
 and she said — 
 " But has he got quite free ? Do they pursue him ? " 
 " No and yes." 
 
 " 'What do you mean by no and yes ? " 
 " He has not got quite free, inasmuch as his foes are 
 hard upon his track, and foremost among those in pursuit 
 is Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " Oh ! heavens, what am I to suffer from that man ! 
 He persecutes me and all who befriends me. I am afraid 
 his malice will only be appeased by death." 
 " Do not be too much alarmed. 
 " There is danger." 
 
 " 1 admit that, but you must bear in mind that Jack 
 has Blueskin with him, and that together they have more 
 than once proved themselves a match for the thief- 
 taker." 
 " True— true." 
 
 " If they are pursued, it does not follow that they will 
 be captured." 
 M You give me new hopes." 
 
 '*' I desired to do so, and am jlad I have succeeded. 
 i«\nd now listen to me." 
 
 <l I am listening, my friend." 
 
 "Strangely enough, Jonathan has selected me from 
 among hie other men to place confidence in, and hai 
 given mo one particular duty to fulfil,"
 
 BLUESKIN: A. ROMANCE, 
 
 269 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " To remain outside this door as a sentinel, in orde* to 
 see that no one enters this chamber who is not privileged 
 to do so, and to see that you do not escape." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " 
 
 " It sounds impossible, does it not ? but we are all in 
 the hands of fate. Jonathan has made offers and pro- 
 mises to me that would be enough to shake any man, 
 provided I might be faithful to him ; but the questivs 18, 
 would he be true to me P " 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXVII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS WINS STEGGS OVER TO HEE INTERESTS. 
 
 Steggs folded his arms together and bit his nails, as he 
 propounded this important question. 
 
 Edgworth Bess raised her head, and looked him keenly 
 in the face. 
 
 A vague idea of danger crossed her brain. 
 
 " He has not shook you ? " she said, interrogatively, 
 though her heart told her that he had. " You know him 
 too well to believe in his sincerity. Jonathan Wild never 
 yet kept faith with any human being, and never will." 
 
 " He did shake me," said Steggs. " But I am firm 
 again now. I will be your faithful friend for ever." 
 
 " I hope so. You will find it more to your advantage 
 in every way, for I shall never play you false. Has Jona- 
 than offered you money to join him in his plans P If 
 so, you shall have just double what he has promised, 
 if you take my part and assist me in recovering my 
 rights, for there is no witness so important as yourself." 
 
 " I confess, with shame, that I listened to his words, 
 and that which he said made a deep impression on me ; 
 but that is over now — believe me, it is over, and I shall be 
 faithful to you. I feel that I can trust you, and Jonathan 
 has already shown too much treachery for me to believe 
 in the sincerity of his promises." 
 
 " I am glad that you take that view of the case. He 
 would not be faithful to his word. He has great schemes 
 on hand — I know that well, and I have no doubt he would 
 be able to carry them out more easily if he had an instru- 
 ment which he could use ; but rest assured, that, when 
 the work was finished, and there was nothing more for it 
 to do, it would be cast aside." 
 
 * That is it — that is it. But I will be even with him. 
 I will fall in with his schemes. I will profess to help 
 him, and so I will. I will assist him to reach the highest 
 pinnacle to which he has aspired, and then when I have 
 done that, when he feels that he has triumphed, I will 
 cast him down from the giddy eminence, and so great 
 will be his fall, that he will never rise again." 
 
 There was a wild excitement about Steggs as he thus 
 spoke, and he uttered the words, which came easily to his 
 lips, with a dramatic force which many an actor would 
 have tried in vain to imitate. 
 
 " Dismiss that thought," said Bess. " Leave him to 
 himself. The plan you propose is too dangerous — by far 
 too dangerous, when you consider the nature of the man 
 with whom you have to deal. Dismiss the thought, and 
 devote yourself wholly to my interests. Believe me, that 
 will prove your best plan of action, and the one that will 
 bring you the greater profit." 
 
 " No, no, I have set my heart upon the scheme. Blue- 
 skin knows and has approved of it, and so would Jack if it 
 was communicated to him. I am here to carry it out, and 
 I will do it, or perish in the attempt. I shall not, how- 
 ever, neglect you. On the contrary, you shall be sheltered 
 from all personal violence at his hands, and, if possible, be 
 set at liberty. I was a fool to listen to what he said, but 
 it was the money which blinded my judgment. But that 
 is quite past. It will never occur again, and my original 
 resolution shall be carried out." 
 
 Truly was Steggs an enemy much to be dreaded, and 
 bo the reader will find as the narrative proceeds. 
 
 Edgworth Bes3 shrunk back, terrified at the vehemence 
 of his manner. 
 
 He saw the action, and controlled himself. 
 
 He spoke, after a moment's silence, in a much calmer 
 and more rational tone of voice. 
 
 " Listen to me. While you are here you are, perhaps, 
 
 as safe as you could be anywhere, especially in your feeble 
 
 state of health. You must forget that you are in a 
 
 t prison, ud feel assured that while I remain a sentinel 
 
 at your door, no harm can possibly come to you ; neither 
 at the hands of Wild himself, nor at the hands of any of his 
 j janizaries. I shall be all the time closp of hand to protect 
 you." 
 
 " Accept my thank*. They are all that I am able to 
 offer you now, but I hope the time will soon be at hand 
 when I shall be able to recognise your services in a more 
 substantial manner." 
 
 " Enough. I am a poor man — a very poor man ; and it 
 is the want of money which has driven me to do that which 
 I have done. But it is over." 
 
 " You shall have wealth, if that is what you crave. Oh! 
 how I long to hear that Jack has escaped ! If he has done 
 so, then I should wish to be with him ; and, if nothing 
 better could be done, I would leave England with him, 
 and in some other country live content, foregoing all my 
 wealth." 
 
 " Don't speak of that." 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I should be loath indeed to afford Jonathan Wild so 
 great a triumph as that. Stay here, as I proposed." 
 " The place is hateful to me." 
 
 " No doubt — no doubt. But, then, you should consider 
 your weak state. You would be unequal to much exer- 
 tion." 
 " I am very ill." 
 
 " You are. I wonder you are still in life. And now 
 listen to me. With respect to yourself, Jonathan's plans 
 are as clear as noonday." 
 
 '" To you they may be, but they are not so to me. If 
 you can, explain them to me." 
 
 " Willingly, because then you will see that, for the pre- 
 sent, you are safe ; and that you have nothing much to 
 fear from the thief-taker, if you do not exasperate him." 
 " Tell me, then, at once. 
 " You are not yet of age ? " 
 " 1 know it." 
 
 " What is your age ? Everything depends upon that." 
 " I must be nearly twenty." 
 
 "Then you have one year of safety. When you are 
 twenty-one you will be mistress of and responsible for 
 your own actions. Do you understand ? " 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 " Until then your are not your own mistress, nor would 
 the law hold you accountable for your actions. Now, can 
 you guess what Jonathan will do r " 
 " No." 
 
 " He will keep you here a prisoner, and take every care 
 of you until you are of age. 
 " Yes-yes." 
 
 " And then he will find some means, I do not say what, 
 of forcing you into a marriage with him." 
 "Mercy!" 
 
 " Do you understand now ? " 
 
 " I do — I do, indeed. I have heard something of this 
 before." 
 
 " He will then be your husband and jour master. 
 Immediately after this he will take steps to recover your 
 wealth and title, and when he has succeeded in tiiis, he 
 will step forward, and, as your husband, lay claim to 
 it all." 
 " The monstrous villain ! " 
 
 " He deserves the title. You can see now his policy. But 
 he shall be thwarted. Fear nothing. Do not be cast 
 down. Until the time I mention, you are perfectly 6afe. 
 Let me advise you, then, to keep yourself calm, and get 
 well as soon as possible. I will watch over you, aud, as 
 early as I can, will communicate with Jack and Blueskin, 
 who shall decide what had best be done* Does this con- 
 tent you P " 
 
 "Itdoes-but" ^ 
 
 "But what?" • 
 
 " Fain would I leave this place at once." 
 " You may well wish it, but you are safest here. While 
 you are a prisoner, Jonathan will attempt nothing, so do 
 not precipitate matters, or hurry him into doing what h<? 
 would not." 
 " I wiU try." 
 
 '*' Above all, keep a good heart. You see, Jack Shep- 
 pard has escaped; and now I will tell you something 
 more, which ought to make you happy." 
 "What— what?" 
 
 " When you are in full possession of your rights, yo» 
 will have the command of almost unbounded wealth, to
 
 870 
 
 BLTJESKIN: k ECMANC* 
 
 though your uncle has lived freely, yet all is eo strictly 
 intailed, that he can make away with nothing. Wealth is 
 power. You will have great— very great influence. Yo&r 
 intercession would go a long way towards obtain^" a 
 pardon for " — — f 
 
 " Jack Sheppard," interrupted Besa, eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, Jack Sheppard, or any one else in whom you 
 might feel an interest." , 
 
 "That does indeed give me hopes. I will ie guided 
 by what you say in every particular. Come to me as 
 often as yon can, for your words are the only consolation 
 I receive. Try to see Blueskin as early as you can, and 
 hear what he says." 
 
 " He will he able to judge best," said. G-eggs, "and 
 when he is prepared, we shall see what can be done 
 towards escaping, but let it be how it will, it is necessary 
 for you to be in good health and strength." 
 
 " I will try— I will try. I feel better and stronger now 
 than I have done since I have been in this dreary place. 
 When shall you see Blueskin ? " 
 
 " That is more than I can tell. Both him and Jack are 
 pursued by Jonathan Wild, and there is no knowing how 
 far he will chase them, or how the pursuit will terminate. 
 Hark! what is that?" 
 
 A confused noise came from below. 
 
 " I must leave you now," said Steggs, " it will be unsafe 
 for me to stay any longer. I must see what has hap- 
 pened. Perhaps Jonathan has returned." 
 
 " Yoa will see me again as soon as you can ? ' 
 
 " I promise you I will, and now good night." 
 
 "Goodnight." ■ 
 
 Steggs locked the doer, and peered over the balusters. 
 
 Something of an unusual character was taking place 
 below. 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXVIIL 
 
 THE HOBSE ¥ALLS DEAD UPON THE ROAD, LEAVING 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND HIS COMRADES IN AN AWKWARD 
 SITUATION. 
 
 When Jack fired the pistol and shot Wild in the head, 
 he did not stop to see what injury his old foe had 
 received. 
 
 On the contrary, Johnson whipped the horse, and made 
 him go at a still greater speed. 
 
 The poor creature was almost exhausted, but it had a 
 capital spirit, and struggled onward. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack saw Jonathan fall off his horse ou to 
 the roadway, but in another moment ho was out of sight 
 in the darkness 
 
 -I 
 
 The former made his way to the front or the cart. 
 " Off with your woman's toggery, Joe," he said, " 
 
 you 
 
 will find it inconvenient if the time for action comes, 
 will take the reins a bit." 
 
 Johnson said not a word in reply, but handed him the 
 reins. 
 
 He then, without any difficulty, slipped off the female 
 apparel with which he had disguised himself, and which 
 he had put on over his ordinary clothing. 
 
 He rolled it up in a bundle, and threw it out of the 
 cart. 
 
 " Now, which way shall we take, Joe ? " asked Blueskin. 
 " I did not think the pursuit after us would be so hot, and 
 I am quite out of my latitude." 
 
 ! " I have been wondering which would be the best way 
 to take," replied Johnson. " We are out of the hearing 
 of our pursuers. Suppose we were to take the first turning 
 to the left, and make our way across the country in a 
 westerly direction ? " 
 
 " Agreed, that will do as well as anything. You had 
 better take the reins again." 
 
 Johnson did so. 
 
 "lam afraid the nag won't carry us much farther. (She 
 seems all but done for now." 
 
 "Take it easy when you get round the comer. Ten 
 to one if we do not throw them entirely off the scent." 
 
 " I hope we shall be lucky enough to do so. That was 
 an awful downer Jonathan had. I heard the crash 
 myself." 
 
 " It was, and it will be a good thing if it put* a stop to 
 the pursuit altogether. 1 ' 
 
 " I am afraid there will be small chance of that. This quite incapable of motion, 
 escape, end the daring mauner in which it wm effected,, J What woiild be the best thinf, to do ? 
 
 will make a tremendous uproar. What do you think, 
 Jack?" 
 
 " I think so. But tell me, where is Edgwortk Bess ? " 
 
 " A prisoner." 
 
 " Iu Wild's house ? " 
 
 "Yee." 
 
 " Heaven help her, then ! " 
 
 " Heaven will help her." 
 
 " Do not take me far from London. Do you hear ? I 
 shall not rest a moment until I have set her free, and 
 placed her somewhere in safety." 
 
 " Wo will talk of that directly. She is in no immediate 
 danger. Do you remember Steggs ? " 
 
 " The accomplice of Lord Dcnmuil ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is the man." 
 
 "What of him?" 
 
 " Jonathan Wild's treachery has made him our friend, 
 and he is now as anxious to serve Edgworth Bess as he 
 was before to persecute her." 
 
 " Is he sincere ? " 
 
 "I think so." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Blueskin then proceeded to relate what had taken place, 
 and put him in possession of all facts. 
 
 But Jack was far from satisfied. 
 
 He doubted Steggs. 
 
 And while the poor heiress was in Wild's house he 
 dreaded the worst. 
 
 Besides she was ill, suffering, and he determined to see 
 her. 
 
 He had heard with joy that she had refused to believe 
 him guilty of the crime for which he was condemned to 
 death. 
 
 He would know no rest until he had seen her. 
 
 He was, in truth, weary and tired cf life, and would 
 willingly have laid down there and then and died, had it 
 not been for her. 
 
 She it was who formed the tie which bound him to 
 existence, and that tie was too strong to be easily broken. 
 
 But he felt that he should be quite content to surrender 
 up himself, if he could only see her in safety and in pos- 
 session of those rights and honours of which she had so 
 long been deprived. 
 
 " I shall yet triumph over the villain Wild!" he ex- 
 claimed, with emphasis. " He has tried hard to bring me 
 to the scaffold, but all his efforts have been abortive ones. 
 Now I will try what I can do. He shall suffer tho death 
 he has been so anxious to inflict upon me, and then I 
 shall feel content." 
 
 " Here is my hand in that matter," replied Blueskin ; 
 " I will join you in it, and assist you heart and soul. We 
 are not very well circumstanced to carry out our inten- 
 tion, but much can be done when you are determined. 
 Jonathan Wild shall swing at Tyburn before he is much 
 older." 
 
 " And a good job too," chimed in Johnson ; " and "— — 
 
 He paused abruptly. 
 
 The horse had continued going at good speed, and was 
 now in a kind of half gallop, when ho suddenly fell to the 
 ground as if struck down by lightning. 
 
 The shafts of the cart snapped asunder in a moment, 
 and the three friends, wholly unprepared for the event, 
 were pitched out violently into the roadway. 
 
 The horse was dead. 
 
 He had gone as long as his muscles would sustain him 5 
 they had been stretched to their utmost tension, and ha 
 had given way all at once. 
 
 When he fell ho never moved in the least. 
 
 Blueskin and Johnson were in the front of the cart, and 
 wero pitched out in a moment, while Jack was thrown out 
 over the side. 
 
 All alighted on the hard road with considerable force. 
 
 Fortunately, however, neither were much hurt, and after 
 a minute or two, during which they recovered their senses 
 a little, all three scrambled to their feet. 
 
 They were much bruised and shaken, of course, but they 
 struggled against the sensation which the pain caused, for 
 they knew not how soon their foes might 1 e upon them. 
 
 To bo sure they had not heard much of thorn for the 
 last few moments, but they might be upon then- track for 
 all that. 
 
 A glance showed them that the 6oi s0 ,.,.,, U l-uJ- aiH 1
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCB. 
 
 271 
 
 If they left the cart just where it was, iu the middle of 
 the road, it would give a clue to their whereabouts. 
 
 But what was to be done with them ? 
 
 Blueskin went a little way down the road, and theu cams 
 to a gate leading into a meadow. 
 
 It was'locked, but that was not much of an obstaole to 
 Blueskin. \ 
 
 He had it open in a trice. 
 
 Then, going back, he told his comrades what tie had 
 uone, and' they set about disentangling the cart from the 
 horse. 
 
 When this was done, the three easily drew the cart 
 along, for it was of a light build, and concealed it in the 
 meadows behind the hedge. 
 
 Theu there was the horse to dispose of 
 
 This was by far a more troublesome affair,_but by their 
 united strength they succeeded in dragging it after them, 
 a few yards at a time, until that was in the meadow like- 
 wise. 
 
 Blueskin pulled the gate shut, and finding it hart a 
 tendency to swing open, he kept it in its proper place by 
 means of a large stone which he rolled against it. 
 
 There were now no very perceptible traces of what had 
 happened, but their position was much worse than it 
 had been. 
 
 Altogether a good deal of timo had been occupied, and 
 they every moment expected to hear the trampling hoofs 
 of their pursuers' horses on the road. 
 
 But they were not audible as yet. 
 
 " What shall we do, Johnson ? " Blueskin asked. 
 
 "We cannot do better than keep straight down the 
 road. There is a preserve not much further on, and if we 
 are hard pressed we can take refuge in it." 
 
 Thi3 was agreed to. 
 
 They started at first to go down the road at a trot, but 
 the pain of the bruises they had received soon caused them 
 to diminish their speed. 
 
 They went at a walk, and even that waa laborious and 
 distressing. 
 
 And now, to add to their discomfiture, they could hear 
 quite plainly that which they had so long expected — 
 namely, the trampling of horses' feet. 
 
 ;< Where is the preserve you spoke of? The sooner we 
 enter it the better, for I cannot keep up much longer, and 
 the horsemen behind will be upouus directly." 
 
 It was Jack Sheppard who spoke. 
 
 He had said nothing before, but he had been hurt much 
 more than either of the others, for the simple reason that 
 he had fallen from a greater height and in a more awk- 
 ward manner. 
 
 "It is not many yards further," responded Johnson. 
 15 Keep up, and we shall be all right. Do you see that 
 black- looking mass before you, which seems almost like 
 a cloud ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 " That is it, then. Cheer up. My own bones ache 
 so that I can scarcely move. Keep up.' 
 
 Nothing more was said, except that now and then 
 one or other of them would utter a dismal groan which 
 the anguish motion caused brought forth. 
 
 At length the plantation was reached. 
 
 But they found that it was guarded from the road by a 
 high wooden fence behind, and close to which grew some 
 dense vegetation. 
 
 All were deeply disappointed and ready to give in, 
 except Johnson, who said — 
 
 " Keep to the left. Leave the road. Before long you 
 will come to a gap, through which you will be able to 
 force your way. On with you at once. Thero is f-o time 
 to lose ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CLXXXIX. 
 
 JACK SKEPPAED, BLUESKIN, AND JOHNSON HAV* Afl 
 ADVENTURE IN THE PLANTATION. 
 
 There was, indeed, no time to lose, for the horsemen 
 gained upon them with great rapidity. 
 
 It was practicable to skirt the plantation on its eastern 
 side— the northern faced the road — and accordingly ouv 
 friends, under the directiou of Johnson, did_ so. 
 
 It was over a meadow that they took their way. 
 
 Ere long the palings began to present a dilapidated 
 appearance, and they pushed on with renewed hope of 
 quickly reaching the inclosure. 
 
 On came the horsemen at a furious pace. They did 
 not halt at any place, so it would seem they had net 
 noticed the fall of the horse. 
 All held their breaths. "* 
 
 There was a slight chance that they would sweep down 
 the road, and come to the conclusion that the fugitives 
 were not there, and this chance was fulfilled, or the first 
 portion of it, at any rate. 
 They passed by the plantation with undiminished speed. 
 " Take cheer from that," said Johnson, " for that is a 
 very great piece of luck. I don't say they won't come 
 back, because they may have known for certain that we 
 came down here. We must run the risk of that. Wo 
 shall find a place where we can scramble through directly." 
 " What do you say to making one?" asked Blueskin. 
 " The wood is extremely rotten, and I could pull some of 
 it down in a moment." 
 
 "No— no. "Xou had better not do that. The keepers 
 may see it, and besides, it will serve to show the way we 
 have taken. Push on a little further, and we shall find a 
 place ready made." 
 
 Blueskin was convinced that his friend was right, so he 
 continued hi3 course along the palings without another 
 word. 
 
 About two hundred paces further on, they came to a 
 place where the fence had been completely demolished. 
 
 "This is it," said Johnson. "You can get in easily 
 enough." 
 And so they could. 
 
 Just, however, as they were about to plunge among tho 
 trees, they were all startled by the loud report of a gun. 
 It was somewhere close at hand. 
 " What does that mean ? " asked Jack. ^ 
 
 " Either the poachers or the keepers are aoout. Con- 
 found them ! Ten to one if the sound of the report doca 
 not reach the ears of tho horsemen who have just passed, 
 and cause them to return. Curse them ! There they go 
 again ! " 
 Another report followed. 
 
 Something of an unusual nature was taking place, for a 
 certainty, though the supposition which Johnson had 
 uttered was a probable enough one. 
 
 By general consent he had taken the command of tiis 
 whole party, and he now led them on through tho 
 intricacies of the wood. 
 They proceeded for some time in silence. 
 No more shots followed. 
 
 It was Johnson's intention to go as near to the ceutre 
 of the plantation as possible, believing that he then had 
 the best chance of eluding his foes. 
 
 Not a word was spoken, and they were careful to make 
 no more noise in their progress than they could possibly 
 avoid, for they knew not what unfriendly ears might be 
 close by, but in spite of all their care they could not 
 prevent a slight crackling now and then, as a twig or dead 
 branch of a tree snapped under their feet. 
 All at once Johnsou came to a halt. 
 His companions stopped likewise, and as they did so 
 they heard a faint moaning sound. 
 They all listened intently to it. 
 What or who it came from they could not tell. 
 They had taken care when they heard the shot fired to 
 notice the spot from which they appeared to come, and 
 had taken a path that would lead them directly from it. 
 Johnson touched Blueskin on tho arm. 
 " You are younger than I am. Creep forward stealthily 
 a little way and then return, and try if you can find out 
 what that means. Wo will stay where we are. It may 
 be of importance to us to know, and I know Jack is too 
 much hurt, or 1 should have asked him." 
 This was uttered rapidly and in a low tone of voice. 
 Blueskin replied by at once doing as he was requested. 
 It was an anxious five minutes which elapsed between 
 the time of his departure and his return. 
 
 Neither Sheppard nor Johnson uttered a word, but bent 
 all their faculties to the one of listening. 
 
 At length they heard a rustliug noise, and directly 
 afterwards, Blueskin appeared. 
 
 " What is it ? " they both asked in a breath . 
 " Nothing to be over alarmed about, I think, iollow 
 Bje quickly and quietly." , , ' 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin glided away, and they had no 
 resource but to follow him, aDd discover what was UM 
 cause of the strange sound they had heard.
 
 272 
 
 bltoskxn: a romance. 
 
 After proceeding about a hundred^ paces through a 
 thicket which kept increasing in density every moment, 
 they came to a small clearing, where the trees and fuder- 
 growth had either been removed or had never grown. 
 
 In this place was a rudely-built wood hut. 
 
 Its roof was shrouded by tall trees, whose branches 
 projected far over it, and east it into deep shadow. 
 
 There was sufficient light for all three of our friends to 
 note the appearance of this place with tolerable accuracy. 
 
 Blueskin had halted at the edge of this clearing, and 
 the other two, who were following, did the same. 
 
 The former then pointed to the hut. 
 
 Following the direction of his finger, Jack and iionnson 
 perceived near the door of the hut, and lying apparently 
 across its threshold, the body of a man. 
 
 At least, they took it to be such, although the outlines 
 of it were only partially defined. 
 
 Even as they gazed, tftere arose the same cry as they 
 had before heard. 
 
 The connexion between this man and the shots they had 
 heard not long before was too close to be overlooked, and 
 they at once came to the conclusion that he was wounded. 
 
 But by whom ? 
 
 That was a question none of them could answer. 
 
 Jack was young, and bad, in some respects, a sensitive 
 nature. < 
 
 In the present instance, situated as they were, cold 
 prudence would have recommended them to leave that 
 spot as fast as possible, and leave the wounded man to 
 take his fate, lest his foes should come upon him, and 
 be the means of discovering them also. 
 
 But the humanity of Jack's nature would not suffer 
 him to listen to this selfish plea. He determined to 
 succour the wounded man at all hazards, let him be 
 whom be may. 
 
 He touched Blueskin, therefore, on the arm to attract 
 his attention, for he stood near enough to him to be 
 able to do so, and said — . 
 
 "You will help him, Blue, shall you not? He is 
 hurt." 
 
 " I should like to give bim some assistance, poor 
 fellow, but we are scarcely in a position to do so." 
 
 " We are not, and yet I don't see how we could make 
 matters worse." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 " Besides, if either of us were in his place, we 
 should think it very hard to be passed by and not 
 noticed." 
 
 " True." 
 
 "He may be too much hurt for our assistance to 
 avail him. At any rate, we can but step forward and 
 see, and leave bim to his fate afterwards." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " Stop a moment," said Johnson, " there may be 
 more danger in this than meets the eye. Becollect, we 
 are in very great peril. Suppose, now, this should only 
 be some scheme to capture us ? " 
 
 "Pho— pho ! " 
 
 " You do not think it is ? " 
 
 " I do not." 
 
 " Go on, then, by all means. I should be as sorry to 
 leave him without ascertaining his condition as your- 
 selves." 
 
 This point having thus been settled, all three cautiously 
 crossed the open space. 
 
 The diameter of it in its widest part was only a 
 few yards, so that they quickly reached the prostrate 
 form. 
 
 Stooping "down, Blueskin saw, that as they had first 
 surmised, it was the body of a man. 
 
 The moan of anguish which came from bis lips ia 
 soon as Blueskin touched him, showed that bo retained 
 full possession of bis consciousness. 
 
 " Help ! help ! " he gasped. " I am shot. Help ! 
 help! I have come thus far. Oh! they have done for 
 me at last. Help ! help ! or I die ! Hark ! hark ! tbey 
 are on my track — the track of blood ! I bear the cracking 
 of the bushes as they force their way. They come>-ihey 
 come ! " 
 
 This speech was uttered with strange volubility, «ut in 
 such a low tone of voice, that had not Blueskin been 
 bending over him with his ear only about a couple of 
 inches from bis mouth he could not have told what he 
 said 
 
 There was not much to be gathered from his words — 
 part of them were but raving — for Blueskin's ears were 
 quick, and he could not detect the sounds to which he had 
 alluded. 
 
 He continued speaking, but this time with more calm- 
 ness and coherence. 
 
 " Save me, and help me ! Save me, and help me ! 
 Carry me into the hut— my hut. I am not much hurt. 
 It is strong. Carry me in, and if I am to die, let me die 
 there." 
 
 Blueskin glanced upwards. 
 
 The building was certainly strong. 
 
 The door was open. 
 
 "He wants to be carried in," be said to bis com- 
 rades. 
 
 " Do so, then." 
 
 " He says he is Hot much hurt." 
 
 u The place will serve us, perhaps, for a hiding-place," 
 suggested Jack, "at any rate, we can rest ourselves. 
 I do not feel as though I could go much further." 
 
 CHAPTER CXC. 
 
 BLUESKIN, JACK SHEPPARD, JOHNSON, AND THE WOUNDED 
 MAN ARE ATTACKED IN THE HUT BY THE OFFICERS OF 
 POLICE. 
 
 " Help me," then exclaimed Blueskin, " and we will 
 carry him in and see what the inside of the place is 
 like.'" 
 
 " Very good," said Johnson, and between the two the 
 wounded man was carried into the but. 
 
 Jack came last, and he closed the door. 
 
 A pungent smoke, as though coming from some wood 
 fire, saluted their nostrils, and in a moment after they saw 
 a faint glow at a little distance. 
 
 This was the fire, and Jack crept towards it. 
 
 The interior of the hut was profoundly dark, and he took 
 his course with great caution, for he did not know what 
 obstacles lay in bis road. 
 
 At length, however, the fire was reached. 
 
 He kicked the embers with his foot, and a faint sputter- 
 ing flame started up, which illumined the place with a 
 momentary radiance. 
 
 Jack was pleased to find that there were several half- 
 burned logs of wood upon the fire, and by knocking these 
 about he soon succeeded in making the fire burn up well, 
 and give a bright and steady light. 
 
 By its aid the wounded man was looked at, having been 
 brought close to the fire for that purpose. 
 
 He was now insensible. 
 
 His apparel was soaked in blood. 
 
 He was dressed like an ordinary farm-servant. 
 
 Rapidly and skilfully Blueskin undid his clothing, in 
 order to find the wound and ascertain its nature ; but 
 before be could do so, his quick ears caught a faint sound 
 outside. 
 
 He sprang to bis feet in a moment. 
 
 His companions bad beard the same sound, and a look 
 of alarm appeared upon their countenances. 
 
 The sound became more unequivocal. 
 
 It was the trampling of feet, mingled with the murmur 
 of voices. 
 
 To rush to the door was an instinctive impulse which 
 all three obeyed. 
 
 They opened it a little way, and peeped out. 
 
 A loud cry followed, and then there dashed 5*^9 the 
 clearing about a dozen men. 
 
 They were all dressed as keepers. 
 
 The truth now flashed upon the minds of all three. 
 
 The man who bad been wounded was a poacher. 
 
 He had doubtless left a track of blood all the way he 
 came, and so they were easily able to follow him. 
 
 Truly were our friends now in a most awkward predica- 
 ment. 
 
 Blueskin, however, remembered what the man had said 
 about the hut being strong, and so he closed the door in a 
 moment, and looked for the fastenings. 
 
 There was a very large wooden bar, fixed by a fhkot to 
 the centre of the door. 
 
 One swing round, and it fitted securely in its staples. 
 
 A large bolt was at the top and bottom, and these he 
 drew. 
 
 " He is ic the but," cried a voice. " Down with the 
 aoorJ"
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 273 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD BUYS AN ACCOUNT OF HIS ESCAPE FROM NEWGATE.] 
 
 The object mentioned was immediately struck a violent 
 blow with some heavy instrument, which made it shake in 
 its setting. 
 
 But the door was left by our friends, and a hasty exami- 
 nation made of the rest of the building, which consisted of 
 but one apartment, and without any apertures whatever to 
 serve as windows. 
 
 This, as it happened, was a fortunate thing. 
 
 They looked rather blankly at each other, however, as 
 thev propounded the question— 
 
 What are we to do ? 
 
 The blows upon the door were incessant, and it seemed 
 that, despite its strength, it would ere long give way. 
 
 Our three friends were well armed and amply provided 
 with ammunition, so that, provided the place stood, they 
 would be able to maintain a siege for a considerable time. 
 
 " We must fight it out, I suppose," said Blueskin. " I 
 do not see what other course is open to us." 
 
 As he spoke he, with the greatest calmness apparently, 
 look a brace of pistols from his pockets and loaded them. 
 
 "" N . 3s7~ 
 
 In this he was followed by the other two. 
 
 " Surrender," cried a voice at the door. " Surrender, 
 or you die." 
 
 No notice whatever was taken of this speech, and the 
 attack was renewed upon the door with fresh vigour. 
 
 When the pistols were loaded, Blueskin took one of the 
 brands from the fire and held it above his head like a 
 torch. 
 
 The wood of which it was composed was of some 
 resinous quality, and it sent out a bright sputtering 
 flame. 
 
 By the aid of this he made a fresh and more accurate 
 examination of the interior of the hut. 
 
 He was in hopes of being able to find some other means 
 of exit of which they could avail themselves. 
 
 But he could find nothing of the sort. Indeed, then' 
 was but one means by which the hut could be entered or 
 left, and through which light was admitted, and that wm 
 the door which the keepers were so intent upon battering 
 down.
 
 i — 
 
 blufskin: a eojiance. 
 
 When Blueskin Lad quite assured himself of this, lie 
 cast down the firebrand, aud said, seriously — 
 
 " Jaek, my friend, and you, Johnson. _ We have got 
 ourselves into a pretty fix. We have ran in here like rats 
 into a trap, and I am afraid here we shall bo comfortably 
 caught." 
 
 "Not without giving them some trouble fiitt,'* said 
 Jack. " We are at bay, and now we will fight it Jut with 
 them to the death. For one, I am determined not to sur- 
 render with life." 
 
 " Bravo, Jack. Now for it." 
 
 A tremendous blow was at this moment given to the 
 door ; but though it had been so long and so continually 
 assaulted, it gave no more signs of giving way than at 
 first — namely, that it shook in its frame. 
 
 One great cause of this, setting aside the strength of the 
 door, was, that the keepers had no proper instruments for 
 knocking it down. 
 
 In fact, the only ones they had at all available were the 
 butts of their guns, and these showed more symptoms of 
 giving way than the door itself. 
 
 They desisted, therefore, and one of them again cried — 
 
 " Open the door, in the king's name ! Surrender ! or 
 we fire upon you." 
 
 Then finding all within the hut as silent as before, and 
 that no notice was taken of this appeal, the speaker con- 
 tinued, — 
 
 " Hake'ready — present " 
 
 He paused, in order to give those within time to sur- 
 render, ere he pronounced the last word. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 " Fire ! " 
 
 The sharp report of three guns, almost at the same 
 moment, arose with a startling distinctness upon the air. 
 
 The three bullets with which the weapons were loaded 
 went crashing through the woodwork. 
 
 The door was thick, but the lead found a way through 
 it, aud was flattened against the opposite wall. 
 
 It had been an easy enough matter for our three friends 
 to get out of all possible range of the bullets, and neither 
 of them had received the least injury. 
 
 But they saw by this how energetic the men were. 
 
 " Shall we return the fire, Blue ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Not yet. We are not in a position to do them any 
 harm. Let them go at it. If they fire at the door, we 
 can easily get out of the way of the bullets." 
 
 The men outside seemed rather annoyed to find that 
 their fire was unheeded, for they re-loaded rapidly, and 
 fired again. 
 
 But this was foil}', and they soon found that some other 
 means of dislodging those within the hut must be devised, 
 ere they could hope to meet with success. 
 
 A cessation of hostilities now took place, during winch 
 they consulted together as to what was to be done. 
 
 They were only three in number, aud did not care to 
 send one away to procure additional assistance. 
 
 As for those within the Lut, they scarcely knew what to 
 think of the protracted stillness — whether it boded them 
 danger or safety. 
 
 It was Jack who hit upon the thought of questioning 
 the man, through rendering assistance to whom, they had 
 got iuto this great peril. 
 
 " Who knows ? " he said. " We may learn something 
 important from him respecting the character of the men 
 who are outside ? He can tell us not only who they are, 
 but why they pursue him." 
 
 " True ! We ought to have thought of that before." 
 
 " There is plenty of time yet," said Johnson. " Let us 
 see. I am afraid he is past speech." 
 
 All three had made their way to the centre of the hut, 
 where the fire was burning on the hearth, aud close to 
 which the wounded man lay. 
 
 He was quite still. 
 
 Johnson knocked the fire together, and the light fell 
 upon his face. 
 
 One glance was sufficient to show that he was either 
 insensible or dead. 
 
 The ghastly pallor of his face made all think the latter, 
 and Johnson said — 
 
 "I am afraid he is a gone mutton. However, if there 
 is any life in his body this will rouse it." 
 
 no took a flask from his pocket as he spoke. 
 
 " There is a drop of pure unwatered brandy in that," 
 he said. " I thought perhaps it would come in useful. I 
 
 mostly carry some in my pocket. Blue, hold his head up 
 a little way." 
 
 Blueskin held the man in a half-sitting posture, and 
 Johnson poured a considerable quantity of brandy down 
 his throat. 
 
 That the spirit was strong, the convulsive gasps which 
 the man gave testified. 
 
 His face assumed quite a blue tinge, and he seemed in 
 imminent danger of choking. 
 
 Indeed, the brandy must either have had the effect of 
 extinguishing his life at once, or recovering him. 
 
 The chances were about equal. 
 
 Suddenly, however, Blueskin let go his hold, and tho 
 man's head fell with a dab on to the hearthstone, while 
 ftt the same moment he uttered an ejaculation of alarm. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCI. 
 
 IN WHICH THE ATTACK OF THE OFFICERS UPON THE 
 HUT IS CONTINUED. 
 
 The alarm which Blueskin displayed was fully shared im 
 by his two companions. 
 
 Johnson dropped the flask, aud its precious contents 
 were wasted on the floor. 
 
 Jack Sheppard started to his feet. 
 
 All three assumed listening attitudes. 
 
 The sound which had so alarmed them was the tramp 
 of many footsteps, and then a voice had called out, in true 
 military fashion — 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 This was the cause of the effects we have described. 
 
 Danger now was imminent in the extreme. 
 
 "The police have found us," said Blueskin, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 " 1 am afraid so." 
 
 " It is all over with us, then." 
 
 Blueskin was quite right. 
 
 The party of officers, after going for some distance 
 down the lane without finding any signs of those whom 
 they were in search, came to the conclusion that somehow 
 or other they had passed them. 
 
 With this conviction they had turned back. 
 
 Their horses were much fatigued, and so as there was 
 no pressing need to make much speed, they went at a 
 gentle trot, looking carefully around them in every 
 direction as they did so, in the hope of finding some 
 trace of the prisoners. 
 
 It would have been their wisest policy to have done 
 this at first. 
 
 On their return, they came of course to the plantatiou, 
 and the idea that this would form a capital place of con- 
 cealment occurred to all of them. 
 
 They were debating the matter when the report of the 
 volley which the keepers fired at the door cf the hut 
 reached their ears. 
 
 To be sure, this might have nothing to do with the 
 business they were upon, but then again it might, so, by 
 the orders of their chief, all alighted, and the horses 
 having been left in charge of two of their number, tho 
 remainder plunged into the wood and made their way as 
 nearly as they could in the direction from which the 
 sound had come. 
 
 The second volley, following so close upon the ether as 
 it did, served materially to assist them, and they pushed 
 onwards regardless of all obstacles. 
 
 A very little while brought them to the clearing. 
 
 As soon as their leader saw they had reached their 
 destination, he had cried out halt, and the whole troop, 
 numbering hard upon twenty men, came to a standstill in 
 front of the hut. 
 
 His next step was to speak to the three keepers. 
 
 " What is all this ? " he asked. " Are there any per- 
 sons concealed in that hut ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Who are they?" 
 
 "We don't know." 
 
 " We are in pursuit of the notorious Jack Sheppard, who 
 has just managed to effect another escape from Newgate, 
 and two persons by whom he was assisted. Are they in 
 the hut?" 
 
 " That's more than we can tell, sir. As you can doubt- 
 less tell by our dresses, we are keepers, and have hunted 
 a poacher through the wood."
 
 BLTTESKIN : A ROMANCE- 
 
 "A poacher!" exclaimed the chief of the police. " Is 
 that all ? " 
 
 "I don't know. We tracked him as far as the hut by 
 his blood, which has dropped all about. But he must 
 have been succoured by some one." 
 
 " How en n you tell ? " 
 
 " Not only have we heard voices within the bur, but 
 ) many footprints could be seen about the door of it. We 
 have called to them to surrender, and fired upon them, 
 I but they have taken no heed." 
 
 " We are on the right scent, I'll be bound," said the 
 chief officer. Birds of a feather always flock together, 
 and if we do not find the three in here it is very odd to me. 
 At any rate, we can but try, and we shall be sure of a 
 capital reward if we find the birds we want." 
 
 " Then von will assist us ? " said one of the keepers. 
 
 "Wen ill." 
 
 " We were deliberating when you came up what measures 
 we should take to oust them, but were unable to think of 
 anything likely." 
 
 "We'll see to that," said the chief officer, in an ener- 
 getic voice. " Now, my lads, be lively. Place yourselves 
 in a chain round the hut, and see that no one leaves it. 
 We'll soon have them out, I'll be bound." 
 
 The officer thought it a piece of good generalship to 
 give these orders in as loud a tone of voice as ho possibly 
 could, in order that what he said should reach the ears of 
 those within, and have due weight upon them. 
 
 Indeed, with many men less courageous than our 
 friends, this was a very likely means of obtaining a sur- 
 render, but with them the attempt utterly and completely 
 failed. 
 _ But as they listened they could hear the officers form a 
 circle round the hut, in obedience to the orders they had 
 received. 
 
 There was, however, despite their bravery, an uncom- 
 fortable feeling about the hearts of all. 
 
 They looked upon their ultimate capture at inevitable 
 and certain. 
 
 So many men would make short work of demolishing 
 ibe hut altogether. 
 
 Jack was full of despair. 
 
 He thought that to be captured and taken back to 
 Newgate would be so bitter, that death was a thousand 
 times more preferable. 
 
 Was he doomed never again to see Edgworth Bess on 
 earth ? Had he seen that fair and persecuted girl for the 
 last time P 
 
 Truly there now seemed little chance of his seeing her. 
 
 Two alternatives stared him in the face. 
 
 Capture. 
 
 Death. 
 
 For the first ho felt that, should he once more fall into 
 the hands of the myrmidons of the law, such precautions 
 would be taken as to make it a matter of total impossi- 
 bility for him to escape. 
 
 Then with respect to the latter, though not accustomed 
 to speculate deeply upon such matters, Jack thought that 
 if>what he had heard respecting heaven and hell was true, 
 there could bo no hope then, for that the sime place 
 would receive both he could not bring himself to believe. 
 
 But the natural bravery of his disposition soon rose 
 above this feeling. 
 
 Blucskin and Johnson looked calm and determined. 
 
 They each held in their hands a pair of loaded pistols 
 ready for immediate service. 
 
 The disposition of the officers round the hut was soon 
 made, and they found themselves almost able to touch one 
 another. 
 
 The chief having seen this done, again called to those 
 within to surrender. 
 
 But it was all to no purpose, ho might just as well have 
 addressed himself to the wooden walls of the hut. 
 
 And now a disagreeable idea occurred to the chief 
 officer, and that was that his prey had, in some manner or 
 other, managed to make their escape before the invest- 
 ment of the building by his men. 
 
 Acting under this idea, he summoned two to his side, 
 snd said, — 
 
 " Draw your cutlasses, my lads, and attack that door, 
 i'ou will soon have it down, I'll warrant." 
 
 Nothing lotb, the officers drew their cutlasses, and 
 began striking the door with them. 
 
 Chips flew at every blow. 
 I 
 
 It was quite clear that a little patience would enable 
 them to effect an entrance, and perhaps more expeditiously 
 than in any other way. 
 
 Our friends scon found out what their enemies were 
 about, and Blueskin said, — 
 
 " We must put a stop to this somehow or another. We 
 have plenty of ammunition. Let all three of us go to the 
 door and fire through it simultaneously, and then drop flat 
 to the ground before they have time to return the 
 discharge." 
 
 " Agreed; it will hinder their operations a little, and 
 allow us time to think, if it docs no other good." 
 
 " That is a great good. Come en ! " 
 
 The three then stealthily crept to the door, which was 
 of uncommon thicknpss, and composed of solid oak ; so 
 that the police had net yet succeeded in mating a breach 
 through it. 
 
 Blueskin gave the word to fire in a whisper, and it was 
 immediately followed by the report of the six pistols, 
 which raised such a report as to be absolutely deafening. 
 
 A loud yell of pain from those without mingled with it, 
 which pretty plainly showed that they had done some 
 execution among their enemies. 
 
 In anticipation that their fire would be responded to, 
 Blueskin had commanded them to drop to the floor, whei'e 
 they would be almost sure not to meet with any injury. 
 
 Accordingly they did so, and the policy of the movement 
 soon became apparent. 
 
 Directly they recovered from the consternation which 
 this vigorous assault produced, all those near the door 
 who had firearms discharged them at it. 
 
 But norie were aimed low ecough down to reach our 
 friends as they lay on the floor. 
 
 " Load again," whispered Blueskin ; " but don't move." 
 
 Scarcely had he uttered these words than another volley 
 was fired, and then the attack upon the door was recom- 
 menced. 
 
 For a little while Blueskin suffered them to go on 
 unmolested. 
 
 Then rising as before, and his comrades with him, they 
 stood at the requisite distance from the door, and pulled 
 their triggers. 
 
 The six reports followed, echoed, as upon the previous 
 occasion, by the yells and groans of those who were hit. 
 
 The attack upon the door ceased. 
 
 " If we can keep that up, Jack, I think we shall take 
 some of the courage out of them." 
 
 " Yes ; but what is to become of us when we reach the 
 end of our ammunition ? " 
 
 " What, indeed! but don't let us anticipate evil. We 
 have dor-e better, so far, than I could have expected." 
 
 Jack shook his head, and so did JohnsoD. 
 
 Neither felt so very well satisfied, nor did Blueskin in 
 his heart, only he desired to keep up his comrades' spirits 
 as well as possible. 
 
 The officers seemed to have retired to deliberate, for a 
 deep silence, except that the murmuring of voices could 
 now and then be heard, ensued. 
 
 Some new plan of tactics would have to be adopted, 
 that was clear, for if the inmates kept up as vigorous a 
 resis^-.nce as they had begun, their numbers would bo 
 fearfully reduced before the door could be broken down. 
 
 T! e ii.i n huug back, tco, a great deal. 
 
 The chief himself was wounded, and the others by no 
 means cared about exposing their bodies to so terrible and 
 deadly a fire. 
 
 Hence, a temporary lull in the proceedings took place, 
 while they considered what had better be done. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCII. 
 
 CHE OFFICERS OF POLICE AT LAST SUCCEED IX EFFECTING 
 AN ENTRANCE INTO THE HUT THROUGH THE KOOF. 
 
 That four men, and one of them seriously wounded, 
 should be able for any length of time to hold out against 
 such overwhelming numbers, was absurd. 
 
 In the end their capture must take place, and the 
 officers, while they maintained their circle round the hut, 
 felt that it was utterly impposible for any one within the 
 building to leave it unperceived. 
 
 Still the. amount of troublo and loss they had already 
 experienced, without havinggained the slightest advantage, 
 was annoying in the extreme. 
 
 The door seemed the weakest point at which the attaoi
 
 276 
 
 BLUESKI1T: A ROMANCE. 
 
 could be made. The walls were composed of solid blocks 
 ot wood of great thickness, and very securely clamped 
 together, so there was no hope of breaking through, 
 them. 
 
 There was, however, one weak point of the defences 
 which was entirely overlooked and never thought of. 
 
 How this was is hard to say, but the fact remains the 
 same, notwithstanding. 
 
 The weak part in the hut was what is generally the 
 the weakest part in all buildings, and that is the roof. 
 
 In some buildings, however, the roof is quite inac- 
 cessible, but this was not the case with the hut. 
 
 It was not nine feet above the grousd at the most in its 
 lowest part. 
 
 It was composed of thatch, but not thatch simply. 
 
 Underneath the thin covering of straw was a series 
 of wooden poles laid as closely together as their shape 
 would admit. 
 
 These were firmly secured to other pieces of wood lying 
 at right angles to them, the ends of which were fastened 
 to the walls and to the beam at the top. 
 
 It was the chief of police, who was really a bold brave 
 man, who first thought of endeavouring to make a breach 
 through tbe roof. 
 
 The wound he had received made him physically incom- 
 petent to have headed the attempt as he would have 
 wished, so he was forced to content himself with issuing 
 orders merely. 
 
 " Kenrick," he said, addressing one of the men who 
 next to him had the control of the others, " Kenrick ! " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Get the men together, and attack the roof." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 " Leave the door to itself now. Make no more noise 
 than you can possibly help, or you may be picked off in 
 the same way as before. Ah ! curses ! " 
 
 The chief of police's wound gave him rather a sudden 
 twinge as he spoke. 
 
 Kenrick moved off, and gave the order to the men, who 
 set about obeying it with more alacrity than they had 
 recently displayed. 
 
 The roof was reached with very little trouble, and then 
 they commenced stripping off the thatch. 
 
 This was done easily enough. 
 
 Doubtless, they anticipated that when they had done 
 this their work was over, but they soon found their mis- 
 take when the longitudinal beams of wood were brought 
 to view. 
 
 They had their cutlasses drawn, however, and com- 
 menced hacking them away. 
 
 Those within seemed determined not to surrender until 
 they had done all the mischief they possibly could, for 
 though they saw that capture was so imminent, they fired 
 another volley at the men on the roof. 
 
 Its efficacy was at once attested, too, by the cries which 
 followed, and then a rumbling noise succeeded, caused by 
 those who had been killed or wounded rolling down the 
 roof on to the ground. 
 
 The numbers of the men were now seriously reduced, 
 but their blood seemed to get heated by the slaughter 
 they saw around them, and they returned to the attack 
 with greater energy than ever. 
 
 The position of those within the hut was an excellent 
 one, for while they were able to do so much damage, they 
 were themselves free from all consequences of it. 
 
 They could tell exactly where the besiegers were, and 
 take a deadly aim accordingly, but the besiegers could not 
 so well ascertain their precise situation, though very many 
 shots had been fired into the hut, and both Blueskin and 
 Johnson had been slightly wounded by them. 
 
 And now one of the police-officers, by an exertion of 
 great strength, caught hold of one of the poles we have 
 mentioned, and wrenched it from its place. 
 
 Assistance was rendered him as soon as the others raw 
 what he was about, and a breach in the roof was fairly 
 and really made. 
 
 For the first time the officers could see into the interior 
 cf the hut. 
 
 But beyond a patch of darkness, they could make out 
 nothing. 
 
 Our three friends had been tolerably well supplied 
 with ammunition, but as they had 6'ed a great many 
 Tolleys, and as each volley consisted if six shots, they 
 »oon reduced their supply to a very small amount. 
 
 But when they saw the opening made in the roof they 
 prepared to fire, but waited until the heads of several of 
 their foes appeared at the orifice. 
 
 ^hey then drew their triggers. 
 
 fhe police had done precisely as they had, and fired at 
 thb same moment. To be sure, there aim was not so 
 accurate, but the bullets scattered about in rather an 
 alarming manner. 
 
 But owing to the confined space in which their heads 
 appeared, the three friends had done a terrible amount of 
 execution. 
 
 The officers were again repulsed, and the whole of them 
 who were on the roof either rolled or tumbled to the 
 ground. 
 
 They were now in a state of the greatest exasperation, 
 and acted more like madmen than human beings. 
 
 They could never have believed it lay in the power of 
 three persons intrenched in a hut to do them so much 
 damage. 
 
 But they found it out to their cost, as we have seen. 
 
 The chief of the police uttered some awlul curses when 
 he saw his men again repulsed. 
 
 Kenrick had been shot, and the officers were now with- 
 out a leader. 
 
 "Fire thehut!" cried the chief, in a perfect rage. 
 " Set fire to it. Smoke them out. That is the only way. 
 We shall be sure to have them." 
 
 " Hurrah ! " responded the others then, who all burned 
 for personal vengeance. " Hurrah ! that will do it." 
 
 Half-a-dozen rushed off for brushwood, plenty of which 
 grew close at hand, and having gathered a large quantity, 
 they piled it up against the door in a huge heap. 
 
 Some phosphorous matches were then produced, and 
 several having been lighted were held to the wood. 
 
 The bottom part of the combustible heap was formed of 
 dry leaves and twigs of trees, which caught fire in a 
 moment, and blazed up brightly. 
 
 The flames soon communicated themselves to the upper 
 portion. 
 
 Dense volumes of smoke arose, and the fire crackled 
 loudly. 
 
 The police-officers surrounded the hut, and kept as close 
 to the flames as they could, while they watched their 
 progress with unfeigned satisfaction. 
 
 The inflammable materials had been piled against the 
 door of tbe hut with considerable art, although it was 
 done so hastily. 
 
 They were arranged so that the main body of the flames 
 played upon it. 
 
 An ominous silence followed the last attempt to carry 
 the hut by storm. 
 
 No sound whatever could be heard to come from the 
 inmates of it, who had defended themselves with so much 
 bravery and desperation. 
 
 They thought when so terrible an alternative was offered 
 them as to be burned out by fire, that they would then 
 and there have cried out for mercy, and surrendered. 
 
 But Blueskin was not exactly the sort of man to do that, 
 let the peril with which he was menaced be what it 
 might. 
 $• Bather than give in, he would fight to the last gasp. 
 
 The fire still burned. 
 
 Its violence increased, and the long, red flames that shot 
 up.vard seized upon everything within their reach and 
 devoured it. 
 
 They caught the thatched roof, and soon the whole of 
 the top was one sheet of fire. 
 
 The^roaring and crackling was terrific. 
 
 Again and again did the officers cry out aloud to those 
 within to surrender ; but on no occasion was any reply 
 vouchsafed to their words. 
 
 The fierceness of the heat compelled them from time 
 to time to increase their distance from the flames ; but, 
 notwithstanding that, the circle around the building was 
 unbroken. 
 
 They were quite certain that neithei of those within 
 had left it. 
 
 Silence still. 
 
 Higher and higher mounted the red flames, fiercer and 
 fiercer they became, but still no change was made, no cry 
 for aid or help came from the lips of those within. 
 
 The fire was fast getting a firm hold of the estire 
 building.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 27> 
 
 Now it was by no means the wish of the chief of the 
 police to burn his prisoners to death. 
 
 He would have much preferred to have captured thern, 
 and taken them alive to Newgate. 
 
 Accordingly, when he found that the door was so far 
 burnt away as not to be able to withstand any resistance, 
 he commanded his men te dash the blaring pile away, 
 and scatter the portions of which it was composed about 
 the clearing. 
 
 The door was then fully exposed to view. 
 
 It was nothing more thfn a piece of red-hot wood. 
 
 " Forward ! " cried the chief, in a loud voice, in spite 
 of the pain which his wound occasioned him. " Forward ! 
 forward ! down with the door ! One blow will do it ! 
 Tben you have them. ; ' 
 
 Animated by his words, and determined to put an end 
 to the prolonged and sanguinary contest, the officers made 
 a vigorous dash at the half -burned door. 
 
 Now that the heap was removed, the progress of the 
 fire was very greatly stayed. 
 
 It raged upon the roof where the thatch was not 
 destroyed, but it had not taken firm hold of the beams. 
 
 But the door was in such a state as to enable them to 
 force a way through it. 
 
 That they would find their foes helpless and at their 
 mercy they quite anticipated. The interior would be 
 filled with dense, suffocating smoke. 
 
 The officers attacked the door with their cutlasses. 
 
 It was very different now, though. 
 
 Their weapons sank into it easily, and in less than two 
 minutes it was entirely battered down. 
 
 Such an immense quantity of black, pungent smoke 
 rushed out that they were compelled to retreat before it. 
 
 But a few minutes served to dissipate it, and then they 
 dashed in in a body. 
 
 At first they could not credit the evidence of their 
 senses. 
 
 The hut ivas empty. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCIII. 
 
 THE WOUNDED POACHER SHOWS HIMSELF GRATEFUL FOR 
 THE SERVICES WHICH OUR FRIENDS HAVE DONE HIM, 
 AND MAKES A GOOD RETURN. 
 
 To explain the mystery of the extraordinary and incom- 
 prehensible disappearance of Blueskin and his two com- 
 panions, it will be necessary to return to their proceedings, 
 and particularly describe what they were occupied in 
 doing after the repulse of the enemy from the roof, and 
 while the bonfire was made outside the door. 
 
 The last discharge which the officers had made was 
 rather a damaging one. 
 
 All three were hurt, but fortunately, only slightly. 
 
 They were binding up their wounds, when their atten- 
 tion was attracted by the wounded man who had been 
 the unconscious cause of bringing them into this great 
 peril. 
 
 From the time of the arrival of the police-officers they 
 had paid no attention to him. 
 
 It will be recollected that Johnson had poured a 
 dangerously large quantity of strong brandy down his 
 throat. 
 
 It was a case of kill or cure, and had the man to whom 
 the desperate remedy had been applied have been less 
 habituated to the use of ardent drinks than he was, it 
 would certainly have resulted in the former. 
 
 But as it so happened, it revived him, though he was 
 some. time before he properly recovered his consciousness. 
 
 He had been severely hurt, but not mortally, and the 
 swoon into which he had fallen was mainly caused by loss 
 of blood from the system. 
 
 The sharp firing, and the noise which had ensued, did 
 not in any way tend to restore him the use of his faculties, 
 and it was not until the time of which we have just 
 spoken that he had been able to come to a clear undei • 
 standing of what had taken place. £ 
 
 But as soon as he did he called out to our three «ienus 
 as we have recorded, but his voice was so faint that it 
 could not possibly have been heard outside. 
 
 " What is it ? ' asked Jack Sheppard, who had not all 
 through lost sight of the idea which had occurred to him 
 — namely, that the man would very likely be able to give 
 l.hem some good advice under these perilous o*fcum- 
 itauces. "What is it?" 
 
 He stooped down over the man, who had made severa 1 
 efforts to raise himself, but without success, as he spoke — 
 
 " Speak to me," he continued. " Do not exhaust your- 
 self. I shall hear you if you speak no louder than a 
 whisper." 
 
 " You have saved me." 
 
 " We have, so far." 
 
 " The keepers surround the hut — the strong, brave old 
 hut, and yo\» have kept them at bay." 
 
 " We have, but not without much trouble. Not only do 
 keepers surround this place, but a large body o f j )lico, 
 also!" 
 
 " Ah ! then we are lost." 
 
 " Say you so ? " 
 
 " You are pursued, then." * 
 
 "We are." 
 
 " Let me think a moment. You are friends ? " 
 
 " We have shown ourselves such." 
 
 " Then I will trust you." 
 
 "That is right— but listen." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Our foes are baffled for the moment, but not defeated." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 "They will renew the attack in some other way 
 directly." 
 
 " I know that too." 
 
 " I am glad you understand so well." 
 
 " Yes, I have perfectly recovered my senses." 
 
 " You are better, then ? " 
 
 " I think I am." 
 Z," I am glad to hear it, but are you aware that we cannot 
 conquer those who are besieging us ? do you know that ia 
 the end they must either capture or slay us ? " 
 
 " I do, unless some outlet to the hut is found." 
 
 "Just so, that is it. We have searched if round and 
 rounir hut the only one which we could find was the 
 door." 
 
 " Ah ! did you search narrowly ? " 
 
 K We did." 
 
 "Better and better." 
 
 " What do you mean — better and better ? " 
 
 " I mean it is so much the better for us. Hark ! what 
 are they about now ? " 
 
 All listened. 
 
 M I know," said Blueskin at length. 
 
 "Whatisit?'; 
 
 "Thsy are going to employ an agent to turn us out 
 against which we cannot combat." 
 
 " What ill that?" 
 
 "Fire." 
 
 "Fire?" 
 
 " Yes. They are heaping up brushwood outside the 
 door, and then they will set fire to it, and either smoke or 
 burn us out." 
 
 " No-no." 
 
 It was the wounded man who spoke. 
 
 " What do you mean by ' No — no ' ? " 
 
 " They will neither smoke nor burn us out." 
 
 " Then you know of some secret means by which this 
 hut can be left." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But you must bear one thing in mind." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " The police are here in large numbers, and they have 
 formed a complete circle round the hut, so, if we do leave 
 it, we shall fall into their hands." 
 
 " No we shan't." 
 
 " Well, then, if you know of some secret exit, let u» 
 hear what it is at once, or tho news will come too late." 
 
 " I will tell you." 
 
 " What is it, then ? ^>e quick ! " 
 
 " Raise a little so that I can show you, and stir 
 up the fire so that we can see about us." 
 
 Both these things were done. 
 
 The hut was now filling rapidly with smoke. 
 
 "Do you see yonder chest?" asked the wounded man. 
 
 He pointed as he spoke to a very large wooden chest in 
 one corner of the hut. 
 
 " Yes, yes. We see it." 
 
 "That, then, is the outlet. Promise to take me with 
 you, and I will show you how this place may bo left in 
 perfect safety." 
 
 " We will readily promise that, since we determined 
 from the first not to abandon you to your enemies."
 
 !7« 
 
 BLUE-KIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 " Thanks, thanks. You will have your reward. Tour 
 danger seems great, but in reality it is nothing. Carry 
 me to the box, and then I will show you how to leave 
 this place." 
 
 At this moment they heard those without crying to 
 them to surrender. 
 
 But the poacher, if such he was, heard their proposal 
 with a disdainful smile. 
 
 He was carried by the joint assistance of the three 
 friends, to the chest in the corner as he desired. 
 
 " Open the lid," he said. " It is not fastened in any 
 way, and will yield readily to your hand." 
 
 " I know that," said Jack, as ho raised the lid of the 
 box. " I have tried it before." 
 
 "Oh! have you?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And could you find no way out P " 
 
 " No ; nor can I now." 
 
 "Excellent!" 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " If you are baffled by it, it makes mo hopeful that 
 our pursuers will be. equally at fault." 
 
 " I trust they will ; but how is this ? " 
 
 " Thus." 
 
 The wounded roan as he spoke took from his pocket 
 an instrument which looked not unlike a button-hook, 
 and, holding it in his hand, he thi-ust his arm into the 
 box. 
 
 He drew it upwards slowly, and although the exertion 
 required was more than he possessed. 
 
 But he managed it, and then the others saw to their 
 admiration and surprise that the hooked instrument was 
 fixed in a small staple at one end of the bottom of the box, 
 and which came up like a door. 
 
 " There," said the poacher, in well-pleased accents, 
 " that is such a contrivance as you don't see every day." 
 
 " It is excellent," exclaimed Blueskin. "Let me hold 
 it up for .you." 
 
 The bottom of the box was, in fact, nothing more than 
 a trap-door, but what it covered our friends had yet to 
 learn. 
 
 Blueskin asked the question. 
 
 " There is a flight of steps," replied the poacher, 
 "below here, and they terminate in an underground 
 passage which leads into some carverns, and those 
 caverns out into the open air upon a hill-side, about three 
 parts of a mile from here." 
 
 "Can this be possible!" ejaculated Blueskin, "to 
 think we should have had the means of leaving this 
 danperous place so close to us, and yet knew it not." 
 
 " That often happens," said the poacher. " But you 
 will have to be quick, or we shall after all be too late." 
 
 " Let me go first," said Blueskin, "and then Jack will 
 assist you down to me." 
 
 "Very good." 
 
 Blueskin got inside the chest, and found beneath his 
 feet a flight of steps, which, so far as he could tell, 
 appeared to be formed of noth."ng hut impacted earth. 
 
 " Stop a minute," he cried, w there is one thing I have 
 forgotten now." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " A light." 
 
 "Yes, we 6hall want a light," said the poacher; "have 
 you one." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That is well, then. Make haste, or they will be upon 
 
 B6." 
 
 Blueskin had too many times found the utility of 
 having a light about him to ever neglect it and be 
 without one. 
 
 From bis coat pocket he produced a dark lantern, 
 which, though of diminitive size, was made in the best 
 manner, and emitted a very brilliant light. 
 
 He handed this to Jack, and then Johnson took hold of 
 the poacher by the arms and lifted him ovex the side of 
 the box. 
 
 Blueskin received him in his arms. 
 
 " How many steps are there ?" he askecS. 
 
 " About twenty." 
 
 " We will go first, then. I will carry yon. Jr*tk sbfw 
 the light." 
 
 Sbeppard held the lantern in such a position that its 
 beams were directed down the steps. 
 
 Blueskin then carried the poacher down about a dozen 
 
 of them, and then he paused for his companions to join 
 him. 
 
 This they lost no timo in doing, ncr were they any loo 
 soon. 
 
 The hut was almost full of black hot smoke, and th« 
 door was red hot. 
 
 Johnson came last, and, as he stood on the top step, 
 It 71 shut the lid of the box, and then pulled tho bottom 
 after him, leaving it all secure. 
 
 The poacher, too, showed him how he could draw a bolt 
 beneath the bottom of the box, which shot in a la mo iron 
 staple, so that no one could possibly raise it from the other 
 side. 
 
 When this was done, a feeling of greater security 
 gathered about the hearts of the fugitives. They, indeed, 
 really began to hope that after all they would be able to 
 escape with their lives. 
 
 But it will be seen that they were very far indeed from 
 being out of danger, and they were destined to havo a 
 hard struggle for life and liberty. 
 
 Having brought things so far, we shall now proceed to 
 relate what took place when the officers forced their way 
 into the hut. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCIV. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPAED FOR A TIME SUCCEED IN 
 BAFFLING THEIR FOES. 
 
 When the intelligence that the hut was empty was carried 
 to the chief of the police, he refused to believe it. 
 
 All wounded as he was, the news gave hini such a 
 sudden accession of vigour, that he started to his feet and 
 rushed in. 
 
 Then, indeed, he had the witness of his own eye-sight 
 to the truth of what had been said. 
 
 "Search the place!" he yelled, "search the place. 
 They must be here. Thev are hidden somewhere. They 
 cannot possibly escape. t» '/arch ! search ! " 
 
 The officers were much enraged to think that their prey 
 had slipped through their fingers when they thought they 
 had it so secure, and they ransacked the place thoroughly. 
 
 In the search the chest wa3 not, of course, overlooked. 
 
 It was opened more than once, but seeing it was empty 
 the Kd was shut down again. 
 
 There was no outlet perceivable. 
 
 The state of the hut was now such as to make it 
 positively dangerous to remain any longer in it, though the 
 wood, from its being hard and solid, did not burn with 
 that rapidity which might have been expected. 
 
 Another officer opened the lid of the box, and as he did 
 so, he held a pistol in the other hand. 
 
 Somehow or other, while the lid'was raised he dropped 
 his pistol, and it fell upon the bottom of the box. 
 
 A hollow sound was produced. 
 
 The thought struck him that he had found the secret of 
 tho disappearance, and he hastily said as much, while he 
 even asserted that he dropped the pistol intentionally, in 
 order to see whether a hollow sound was returned ; but 
 this, we think, was not exactly the truth, and that the 
 discovery was made like many others — by accident alone ; 
 although many have afterwards endeavoured to take the 
 credit to themselves. 
 
 A closer investigation of course followed, and the result 
 of it was that the bottom of the box covered an open space 
 in the same manner as a trapdoor. 
 
 When they had found this out the rest was easy enough. 
 
 They tried first to move the box bodily, but finding 
 themselves quite unable to do that, they set to work and 
 knocked it to pieces. 
 
 The top of the flight of earth steps was at last laid bare 
 to view, and then they prepared to descend. 
 
 We will now return to our friends. 
 
 Upon reaching the bottom of the steps the found them- 
 selves in a vaulted passage hollowed out of be earth, and 
 beaten hard and flat at the floor, roof, and alls. 
 
 Along this, by the directions of the poacher, they pro- 
 ceeded for some distance in a tolerably straight line. 
 
 The three comrades gazed curiously around them, for 
 all they saw was strange and wonderful. 
 
 The poacher was fast recovering from his hurts, or, at 
 any rate, appeared to be doing so. 
 
 He walked with tolerable speed, without any more 
 assistance than such as the sides of the passage afforded 
 him.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 *?g 
 
 'V't.oy paused occasionally to listen for any sounds that 
 would show their pursuers to be on their track, and at 
 length the noise caused by breaking up the box came very 
 plainly to their ears. 
 
 This let them know that danger from their foes was far 
 from at an end. 
 
 The poacher seemed much troubled when he found th« 
 entrance to the secret passage had been discovered. 
 
 " Quick ! quick ! " he said, himself setting the example 
 of going at an increased speed. " Quick ! or else they will 
 catch us after all. Make haste ! If we can but get a little 
 further we shall be quite safe. Haste ! haste ! " 
 
 The others ran after him as fast as they were able. 
 
 And now the passage began to grow much more 
 limited in its dimensions. 
 
 The walls were closer together. 
 
 The roof lower. 
 
 Indications of moisture, which they bad not cefore 
 noticed, made their appearance upon the walls. 
 
 " We shall baulk them yet," said the poacher, as he 
 gasped for breath after his exertion. " Look, my friends, 
 there is a large wooden plug above your heads. Pull it — 
 pull it out, I say ; but stand aside quickly, for water will 
 follow ! " 
 
 When they heard these words, our three friends looked 
 up to the ceiling of the passage, and there they saw, 
 depending from it, a piece of wood, shaped something 
 like a plug — that is to say, it was round, and grew thicker 
 towards the bottom. 
 
 Blueskin did not stop to hesitate or question, bat lifted 
 up his arms, and seized the plug with both hands. 
 
 It seemed very firmly imbedded, and he had to work it 
 about, first backwards and then forwards, before he could 
 communicate to it a downward motion. 
 
 But he was strong, and soon overcame the resistance 
 offered. 
 
 Recollecting the warning ho had received, he stepped 
 aside quickly when he felt it coming. 
 
 The plug fell to the ground. 
 
 Then through the round opening which it had filled up 
 there rushed, with incredible violence, a stream of water 
 about the thickness of a man's arm. 
 
 Although they felt a good deal of confidence in the 
 smuggler, our friends viewed this with something like 
 dismay, for how were they to escape drowning ? 
 
 But the wounded man still urged them forward, and, 
 after going a few yards more, they came to a place where 
 another plug was fixed. 
 
 This was also drawn, and the same result followed. 
 
 Another and another were pulled out in their hasty 
 progress, and the floor of the passage was ankle deep in 
 water, although for some time it had had an upward 
 tendency. 
 
 " A few more yards, and we shall be all right," said the 
 poacher. " There is a door which we can close behind us, 
 and secure, and then I think we can laugh at all pursuit." 
 
 " The quicker the better, then, or we shall be afloat." 
 
 " No fear — no fear. The main body of the water will 
 flow towards our pursuers, and in three more minutes 
 the lower part of the passage will be full. Ah ! here is 
 the door." 
 
 At this moment the little party came to a small wooden 
 door. 
 
 It was not as large as the passage, but was a small 
 square aperture, considerably above its level. 
 
 It was not fastened, and the poacher pushed it open, 
 making a sign for Blueskin to pass through and assist 
 him. 
 
 This was soon done, and Blueskin closed the door again. 
 
 He gave one look down the passage before he did so, 
 and saw that it was literally filled with water. 
 
 He was astonished. 
 
 The water had rushed in with great swiftness, he knew, 
 but still he could hardly believe that in so short a time a 
 sufficient quantity could have entered to fill up tire passage 
 in the way it had. 
 
 A more effectual means of putting an end to the pursuit 
 could not have been found, though from what he had 
 already seen, Blueskin could tell that his pursuers were 
 not to be turned aside very easily. 
 
 He fastened the door without more ado, and then 
 glanced round to see into what kind of a place fortune had 
 le3 them. 
 
 Jack Sheppard held the lamp, but its services were not 
 
 really needed, inasmuch as a soft gentle light very grateful 
 to the vision filled the place. 
 
 " Where is this ? " he asked. 
 
 " This is a cavern," replied the poacher, " beneath some 
 hills. I ought to say it is one of a series of caverns, and 
 as this is the innermost of them all, it is seldom, if ever 
 visited." 
 
 " And this light — where does it eome from ? " 
 
 " Through numberless chinks in the roof above. They 
 are too far off, and too small to be distinguished from 
 here." 
 
 " And do you think we are safe ? " 
 
 " I am sure of it. The officers will never follow us s 
 but the sooner you leave the cavern and this part of the 
 country the better." 
 
 " Can you guide us out ? " 
 
 " I ean." 
 
 " Pray do so, then." 
 
 " This way. I don't know who you are, but you have 
 saved my life. That is enough. I want to know no more. 
 When we get to the open air we will separate. I have my 
 own business to attend to." 
 
 " We shall ever be grateful to you," replied Blueskin, 
 as he followed his singular guide through the caverns in 
 the direction of the outlet ; " for you have rendered us a 
 signal service. Without you we should never have escaped 
 from our enemies." 
 
 " You have not quite done so yet ; not that I think you 
 will meet with the same lot outside j but then there may 
 be more." 
 
 " You seem to have recovered from your wound very 
 rapidly." 
 
 " I have. I cannot have been so severely hurt as I at 
 first imagined." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it. But are you well enough to 
 shift for yourself ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; besides I know not where you may wish to 
 go. I am known to the keepers, and shall have to lose no 
 time in getting out of the kingdom, and I have some to 
 whom I should like to say good-bye before I go." 
 
 " Well, well. You have your own way ; but if we can 
 do anything to assist you I am sure you can command 
 us." 
 
 " No, no. Look ! here is the entrance to the caverns." 
 
 The poacher pointed to a large opening, after having 
 passed through which our friends found themselves 
 once more in the open air. 
 
 " And now we will separate," said the poacher, who 
 seemed impatient to be gone. "Farewell. And it before 
 I go you will condescend to take from me one piece of 
 advice — " 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Separate yourselves, and go each of you singly to 
 your destination. You will thus have an opportunity of 
 eluding your pursuers, who will before long be upon the 
 track." 
 
 " They will. Your advice is good, and shall be adopted. 
 Farewell." 
 
 The poacher hastened away, and, turning the sharp 
 angle of the rock, was in a moment out of sight. 
 
 Our three friends looked at each other in silence for a 
 little while. 
 
 Tliey wero breathless, bruised, and tired. 
 
 " This is a wonderful night of adventures, Jack," said 
 Blueskin. " I thought at one time that there was no hope 
 for us." 
 
 " So did I." 
 
 " How strangely that poacher behaved. I cannot half 
 make the fellow out, and do not altogether like his ways. 
 I think the best thing we can do is to be off." 
 
 " But not separate as he said ?" 
 
 " I don't know. At all events let ns go ©n for a little 
 while together in the direction of Loudon." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " We might then part and each go to separate portions 
 of the town, first arranging were we are to meet." 
 
 " Agreed to that." 
 
 " Come on, then. You ore tired, and so am I ; but an 
 effort must be made. We are much too close to the hut to 
 be safe or comfortable. Make all the speed you can. !Ve 
 shall be the downfall of Jonathan Wild yet."
 
 ttso 
 
 fcLtJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 ~l 
 
 CHAPTER CXCV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD PURCHASES A BILL CONTAINING AN 
 ACCOUNT OF HIS ESCAPE FROM NEWGATE. 
 
 Over the hard uneven ground, taking their course in as 
 direct a line as possible, running as fast as their fatigued 
 limbs and bruised bodies would allow them, went our 
 three friends. 
 
 From time to time they looked back, but they could see 
 no traces of their pursuers. 
 
 Gradually their speed abated, and at length their run 
 became a walk, but not until London was in sight in the 
 distance. 
 
 " Now, Blueskin," said Jack, " what do you say about 
 our separating. For one, I must have rest, for I am com- 
 pletely knocked up." 
 
 " What do you think, Johnson ? " 
 " I think to separate would be the wisest plan." 
 " Good, then it shall be done." 
 
 " Where shall we meet, for I fancy neither of us can 
 tell where he will go." 
 
 * You won't want me in the business at all, shall you ? ' 
 asked Johnson. 
 
 " No, my friend," returned Jack, " I do not know that 
 we shall. I hope, however, you will believe how much I 
 feel indebted to you for what you have done in my behalf. 
 You have proved yourself a true friend to me." 
 
 "Don't talk about that, Jack— it's nothing, only I 
 would do anything to oblige you and Blueskin there, and 
 I know very well if I was to get into trouble you would 
 not stick at a little to get me out." 
 
 " You are right enough there, Johnson, and I think 
 you have exposed yourself quite enough for my sake, and 
 I don't intend to be the means of getting you into trouble 
 by being seen with you again." 
 " Nonsense." 
 
 " But I say it. Blueskin." 
 " What, Jack ? " 
 
 " We have a great deal to do before our ends will be 
 accomplished; but do not despair. I trust we shall yet 
 succeed. I have every hope of it, eventually. Now we 
 will separate. Where shall we meet ? " 
 " I leave that to you. Fix the place yourself." 
 " No, no. You." 
 
 " Well then, I should say the best place would be at the 
 foot of King Charles's statue at Charing-cross." 
 "Why there?" 
 
 " Because it is an unlikely place for us to repair to, and 
 not only that, we should not be surrounded very easily." 
 
 " Well then, King Charles's statue be it then. At what 
 time ?" 
 " Ten." 
 
 " Will that be late enough ? " 
 
 " Say eleven ; the streets will be sure to ke empty 
 then." 
 
 " It will be safer ; and if in the meantime, Blueskin, yon 
 can learn anything about Edgworth Bess, pray do so. 
 Tell me all you can about her." 
 
 " I will ; but at present I believe she is tolerably safe. 
 She is in Jonathan's power, it is true, but he seems to 
 have abandoned his idea of harming her — at least, she is 
 very ill. Steggs is there, and he will watch over and 
 protect her, rest assured." 
 
 " I shall wait and long for night. Look, already in the 
 east I can see a faint light which shows that the new day 
 is close at hand. We have no time to lose. I will find a 
 safe refuge and do you the same." 
 
 Farewells were the* exchanged and all three separated, 
 yet each took the way to London. 
 
 At first, the distance between them was but trifling, but 
 it soon increased, until they were no longer visible to each 
 other. 
 
 It was just about sunrise when Jack fairly reached 
 London. 
 
 The inhabitants of the huge city were not yet astir, and 
 he hurried through the streets at the top of his speed. 
 
 It was at the north-western part that Jack entered 
 London. 
 
 Suddenly a thought struck him. 
 
 t'!c thrust his hands in a moment into his pocket. 
 
 He had no mouey. 
 
 This was a serious dilemrr.C. 
 
 Had he thought of it earlier, Blueskin would have sup- 
 
 plied him, doubtless, but that was not to be thought of 
 now. 
 
 " I must have money from somewhere," he muttered : 
 " that is quite certain, but where ? " 
 That was the question. 
 He looked about him. 
 
 As yet he was upon the outskirts of the town. 
 " Some one must pay toll," he said, " there is no help 
 for it. The first one that passes me will have to stand 
 and deliver." 
 
 He turned round a corner as he spoke. 
 In the distance he saw some one approaching. 
 Who he did not care to inquire, but walked on uncon- 
 cernedly to meet him until, being quite close, he raised one 
 of his pistols, and said, in a firm voice — 
 " Cry out, and you are a dead man ! " 
 The man stopped in a moment, and the cry to which he 
 had half given utterance faded away upon his lips. 
 Jack held the pistol within an inch of his face. 
 He could almost see down the barrel. 
 " Quick," continued Sheppard j " your money — hand it 
 over. Your money, I say ! 
 
 " What — what!" said the person addressed, who was a 
 stout, middle-aged gentleman. " Bobbed in broad daylight 
 by a boy ! Nonsense — nonsense ! " 
 
 " Do not trifle with me," said Jack, getting irritated. 
 " I am in earnest, and if you value your life you will do 
 as I desire, for I should think no more of shooting you 
 than I should of shooting yonder sparrow." 
 
 " God bless me," said the gentleman, " what a horrid 
 little villain. However, there is nobody in sight, so I 
 suppose I must. Here, take that." 
 
 A purse was handed, which Jack took in a moment, and 
 finding it to be tolerably well filled, he darted off with it 
 in a moment, leaving the old gentleman quite confused 
 and astounded in the middle of the road. « 
 
 He set up an outcry at last ; but by that time Jack was 
 out of sight. 
 
 In a little while Jack got to the Tottenham-court-road, 
 and down this he went towards St. Giles's. 
 
 At that time only a few houses were built in the Totten- 
 ham-court-road ; but to the left, towards the lower part of 
 it, were several little streets, and turning down one of 
 these Jack stopped at a little public-house, where they 
 were just putting up the shutters. 
 
 He went in and obtained a bed, and here he slept until 
 about six o'clock the following evening. 
 
 He then rose, and it being quite dark he went out into 
 the street with the intention of finding a shop where he 
 could purchase a new suit of apparel. 
 
 In his present attire he considered he should run great 
 risk of being recognised. 
 
 Keeping carefully in the shadow of the houses, he 
 stole down High-street, St. Giles's, then as now, rather 
 celebr ited for shops where second-hand clothing is sold. 
 
 He stopped before one of these houses at the corner of 
 Dudley-street. 
 
 It was dark, but yet not dark enough to light the 
 lamps, and this was all the better for Jack, for he by no 
 means wished to be seen. 
 
 He stepped inside this shop, and looked out a suit of 
 really beautiful clothes. 
 
 They were rather faded and worn, but not particularly 
 so. 
 
 They had evidently at one time formed part of the 
 wardrobe of one of the young bloods upon town. 
 
 The} pleased Jack vastly, and after a good deal of 
 bagglir-gand chaffering, he bought them of the man for 
 about twice as much as they were really worth. 
 
 He found upon inquiry that he could change them is 
 a room at the back of tho shop, and accordingly retired to 
 do so. 
 
 In a little while, for he took great pains with his 
 toilette, he emerged so completely metamorphosed that 
 the man in the shop did not know him. 
 
 This pleased Jack vastly, and he liked his new clothes, 
 which became him exceedingly well. 
 
 On emerging into the street, he looked up and down 
 uncertain which way to turn. 
 
 A crowd of people about halfway down Dudley -street 
 attracted his attention, and he made his way towards it 
 at once, for he was curious respecting it. 
 
 Had he been asked, he could have given a tolerable 
 idea of what the crowd was collected for.
 
 BWESfcTS : A romance. 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD AGAIN ELUDES JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 It tock Lim but a few minutes to reach it. 
 
 In the midst of a mass of ragamuffins of all ages, male 
 and female, was a man with a rather remarkable-looking 
 conical-shaped hat on bis head. 
 
 This man held up aloft in his right hand a bundle of 
 printed papers, closely printed in smudgy type. 
 
 The man was bawling some such words as tbese — 
 'Here you are— bere you are! A full, true, and par- 
 ticular account— one balfpenny, sir, thank you. Here you 
 have a full, true, and particular account of the life of that 
 notorious housebreaker and bighwayman, Jack Sheppard 
 —only one balfpenny each— who was tried at the last Old 
 Bailey Sessions for the murder of bis master, John Boots, 
 the carpenter of Wych-street. Only one halfpenny each. 
 1 ou have also a full, true, and particular account of bis 
 trial before Justice Powis, and his condemnation to death, 
 together with all particulars, and all for the small charge 
 of one halfpenny— a halfpenny only ! You shall read how, 
 alter he was placed in the condemned hold along with the 
 ether prisoners, and how they passed the time there! 
 
 One halfpenny each ! One balfpenny each! You shall 
 also read— which is alone worth the money— you shall 
 also read how Jack Sheppard, by the aid of' two women, 
 escaped from the prison of Newgate, by breaking off a 
 spike, and crawling through the grating ! One halfpenny 
 each, the life, trial, condemnation, and escape, of the 
 notorious highwayman and housebreaker, Jack Sheppard, 
 who is still at large ! One balfpenny, sir ! Thank you." 
 
 Jack, who heard these words, drew nearer to the throng, 
 and at last mingled in it. 
 
 The attention of all present was fully absorbed by the 
 man, who continued to speak without intermission. 
 
 He could see at the top of the bill a rude cut, repre- 
 senting the manner in which his recent escape had been 
 effected. 
 
 The man's wares found a ready market. 
 
 They were eagerly bought by those arouad him. 
 „ . I*: w iU De a good joke," muttered Jack, half aloud, 
 
 it will be a very good joke. I will buy one of those bills 
 myself, and read what it says about rue J *Ia! ha ! " 
 
 No. m.
 
 2S$ 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A BOMANCE. 
 
 No sooner did this rash and adventurous thought enter 
 his mind, then he drew forth a halfpenny, and stepping 
 up to the man, placed the coin in his hand, and received 
 one of the printed bills in exchange. 
 
 " Sold again ! " exclaimed the vendor. " Sold again to 
 thin young gentleman in the velvet suit ! Sold again !" 
 
 These words had the effect of drawing public attention 
 to Jack in a manner which he found neither desirable nor 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVI. 
 
 RETURNS TO JONATHAN WILD AND RELATES WH^f SUCCESS 
 HE MET WITH IN HIS PURSUIT AFTER BLUESKIN AND 
 JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 It will be recollected that after his return from witnes- 
 sing the execution of Flood and Blewitt, Jonathan Wild 
 had ordered a body of his men to collect together, and had 
 placed himself at their head. 
 
 They were every one well mounted, and fully armed. 
 
 He led the way up Giltspur-streel, for lie had made up 
 his mind to track the fugitives like the Red Indians do 
 their prey, and never to rest until he had overtaken and 
 captured them. 
 
 He recollected perfectly well which way he had gone on 
 the Saturday evening, and he now went over the same piece 
 of ground, and at tolerable speed, until he reached that 
 spot where he had been wounded. 
 
 A savage soit of howl came from his lips, and he 
 glared round about him like some ferocious denizen of the 
 forest. 
 
 The great northern road stretched out in front of him 
 so far as his eyes could reach, but there was nothing upon 
 it which indicated the route taken by the fugitives. 
 
 He pressed onward for some distance into the open 
 country, until he came to the turning upon the left-hand 
 side of the way which they had taken. 
 
 He pulled up here, and his men halted also. 
 
 The question entered his mind whether they had turned 
 down there or kept straight on. 
 
 There was nothing save chance to enable bim to answer 
 the question, and chance did it. 
 
 He came to the conclusion that they had diverged from 
 the main path. 
 
 Such a proceeding would be natural, because it would 
 offer a chance of escape. 
 
 Accordingly, after a few minutes deliberation, he gave 
 the word to his men, and trotted down it. 
 
 It was now about mid-day, and the sun was shining 
 high up in the sky, with great brilliancy and power. 
 
 All traces of summer had not quite departed, and the 
 scene upon which Jonathan Wild and his men gaaod was 
 one of enchanting beauty. 
 
 But neither the thief-taker nor his followers were men 
 to appreciate the beauties of nature, no matter how lavishly 
 Uiey might be displayed. 
 
 They saw nothing to admire in the gorgeous autumn 
 lints which every hedge and every clump of trees pre- 
 sented ; and the twittering of the birds, as they leaped 
 from bough to bough, and the gurgling of a little brook, 
 somewhere close at hand, they passed by unheeded. 
 
 But it was in truth a lovely day ; such a oue as puts new 
 life and vigour into everything, and even Jonathan Wild 
 felt exbilirated, but it was without knowing what had 
 produced the feeling. 
 
 Before they had gone far down the lane, the attention 
 of all present was attracted by seeing numberless sites and 
 carrion crows in the air, flapping their wings lazily, as 
 they all settled down in one part. 
 
 Jonathan knew what this meant the moment he 
 saw it. 
 
 "There is a dead body of some sort close at hand," he 
 said, " that's very clear. Smith, ride forward down the 
 iane, and see what is the other side of yon hedge." 
 
 Smith was the name of the man who happened to be 
 riding next to him, and the moment his imperious master 
 spoke he rode off to obey his orders. 
 
 A few yards further on be came to a gate, which he 
 pushed open, and entered a field. 
 
 Jonathan continued his course at about the same speed 
 as he had all along been going, and arrived at the gate 
 just as the man Smith was coming out again. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 "A dead horse, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " A dead horse ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and there's hundreds of birds and insects on it ; 
 it's more than half eat away." 
 
 " Ah ! A horse ! Stop a minute, I'll go down and have 
 a look at it." 
 
 Wild alighted as he spoke, and left the reins for one of 
 his men to hold. 
 
 Passing through the gate, he made his way direct to 
 where Jack and his companions had dragged the horse 
 after it had fallen dead upon the roadway. 
 
 As Smith had said, there were hundreds of birds nnd 
 insects upon it ; indeed, it was literally covered with them, 
 and in the distance looked like a large black moving 
 heap; but upon the approach of Wild, the birds rose slowly 
 in the air. 
 
 A fearful and horrible spectacle was then presented to 
 Wild's sight. 
 
 The flesh had been already half stripped from the bones, 
 and the last rays of the sun caused it to emit a most loath- 
 some smell. 
 
 Jonathan turned his eyes away, and scanned the re- 
 mainder of the meadow. 
 
 Almost the first thing he saw was the cart. 
 
 He hastened towards it. 
 
 But there was very little information to be gleaned by 
 its appeaarnce ; still Wild came to the conclusion that the 
 horse and cart he then saw were the same as had served 
 to carry the fugitives. 
 
 They might be somewhere close at hand, and in hiding, 
 even a">w. 
 
 At Rviy rate he felt sure that so far he was on the right 
 tracl>-. 
 
 He turned back into the lane again, and mounted hia 
 horse. 
 
 " Forward ! " he cried, " Forward ! " We shall have 
 them at last ! I will hunt them down ! Forward ! " 
 
 The troop was quickly in motion, and though they went 
 at a tolerable s^eed, Jonathan kept an uncommonly sharp 
 look out on both sides of him. 
 
 Ere long, howover, he saw a cloud of dust on the road 
 before him, which showed that persons were approaching 
 in considerable numbers. 
 
 But what sort of people they were, and whether they 
 were mounted or on foot, was more than he could tell, for 
 so dense was the dust, that not even his keen vision could 
 penetrate it. 
 
 Soon, however, his ear caught the trampling of horses 
 hoofs, and as everything that occured on that road con- 
 cerned him, as he considered, he called out to his men to 
 halt, and ranged them on one side of the road, in order to 
 see who the new comers were. 
 
 They had to wait for a considerable time, for though 
 they were evidently well mounted, yet they came along very 
 slowly. 
 
 The dust cleared away as they came nearer, and then 
 Jonathan Wild saw that they were officers of police. 
 
 The moment he made this discovery he rode forward to 
 meet them, being anxious to know from them whether 
 they had seen anything of tbe persons of whom he was in 
 search. 
 
 The police-officer who rode first seemed to recognise 
 Jonathan Wild, for he quickened his pace, and was soon 
 bj' his side. 
 
 He touched his hat respectfully. A politic man was 
 that officer, and he knew it was better to be friends with 
 Wild than enemies. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Wild," he said. 
 
 The thief-taker vouchsafed to growl out " good morn- 
 ing " in return, and then he asked — 
 
 " Where have you been P What is your business ? " 
 
 "We have pursued the prisoner who escaped from New- 
 gate." 
 
 "Jack Sheppard? 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And is that vour party behind P " 
 
 " It is, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And have you got the villain and hie accomplices safe 
 in custody ? " 
 
 " No ! " 
 
 "No?" 
 
 " We tried our best, and thought we should have had 
 them more than once, but they fought like fiends, and suc- 
 ceeded in a most extraordinary manner in getting out of 
 our reach." j I
 
 1LUB3KW: A K0X1KCS. 
 
 " Tell me the particulars." 
 
 "With pleasure, Mr. Wild; but would you be good 
 enough to ride forward, sir, and speak to Mr. Lovat, who 
 has the command; he is badly wounded, but you will 
 find him quite conscious, and able to speak to you." 
 
 Jonathan hardly waited to hear the end of this speech, 
 but set his horse in motion immediately. 
 
 The main body of the officers was now only a short 
 distance in front of him. 
 
 He was then able to see why they all came on bo 
 slowly. 
 
 A few were mounted in front, tnd each one led a horse 
 by the bridle. . t 
 
 The others were either woun(2ed and being carried on 
 rude and roughly constructed litters, or else they were 
 occupied in carrying them. 
 
 Jonathan looked at the scene of slaughter with the 
 utmost surprise, and curiosity was very visibly depicted 
 upon his countenance when he reached them. 
 
 Mr. Lovat, as the officer had said, was on one of the 
 Utters, which was carried by four men. 
 
 These bearers, as they might with propriety be called, 
 were not all officers. Their numbers would have been inad • 
 equate ; many were labouring people, who had been hired 
 for the purpose. 
 
 Mr. Lovat was made aware of Wild's approach, so he 
 ordered the bearers to come to a halt. 
 
 He raised himself up then somewhat painfully upon 
 one arm, and looked the thief -taker in the face. 
 
 " Well — well, Mr. Lovat," said Wild, with a hideous 
 attempt to be facetious and agreeable. " Wbat's all this 
 been about P You seem as though you had been in a bit 
 of a skirmish." 
 
 " Seem ! " replied the chief of police, in a voice that 
 was more like a groan than anything else. " Seem, 
 indeed. You mean we have been. Curse Jack Sheppard, 
 and those he had with him ! " 
 
 "With all my heart," said Wild; "but you do not 
 mean to say that Jack Sheppard, and those two men he 
 had with him, served you all in this fashion ? " 
 
 " They did ; but they must have been leagued with the 
 devil to have done it. Oh ! a thousand curses ! " 
 
 Mr. Lovat fell back on his litter. The pain of his 
 wounds would not allow him to sit up any longer. 
 
 Jonathan grinned. 
 
 He had no sympathy or feeling for another who was 
 suffering pain. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed their 
 agony than otherwise. 
 
 " Keep yourself calm," he said, howo?sr ; " and tell me 
 what has taken place." 
 
 " I will try." 
 
 " Are you returning to London P " 
 
 "Yes/' 
 
 " I have just set out, and I have a good body of fresh 
 men with me. Let me know all that has happened. I 
 shall then be better able to act." 
 
 " Of course — of course." 
 
 " Commence, then. I should have been after the 
 viliaiHS long before now, only I received a bullet wound in 
 the head, from which I have not properly recovered ; but 
 I shall know no rest until he is once more in my power. 
 Begin — tell me." 
 
 Mr. Lovat, in obedience to this command, rather than 
 expressed desire, made Jonathan Wild acquainted with 
 the whole of the exciting and extraordinary incidents 
 which took place in and about the hut in the plantation, 
 and ended where their further progress along the sub- 
 terraneous passage was stopped by a body of water. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD DISCOVERS ONE OF THE DEFENDERS OF 
 THE HUT, BUT NOT THE ONE HE WANTED. 
 
 Jonathan Wild listened to this recital with mingled 
 feelings of anger and admiration. 
 
 With all his faults, his follies, and his crimes, he was 
 essentially a brave man, and no one can have perused 
 this history so far without having been made cognizant of 
 the fact. 
 
 Such being the case, he could not withhold his admira- 
 tion of bravery in others, albeit those very persons were 
 those whom he most bitterly hated in all the world. 
 
 " But if they went down this underground passage, and 
 
 so left the hut, how did they pass the water when you 
 were unable to do so P " 
 
 "Ah! that is well asked. At first we were quite 
 puzzled, and I knew not what to think ; but in the 
 morning, when we came to make an examination of the 
 ground (for we felt sure they were hiding close at hand) 
 we found one part of a very wide and deep brook which 
 flows through the plantation, completely dry." 
 "WellP" 
 
 " It was the keepers who first noticed the circumstance 
 with wonder, and told us how broad, and deep, and swift 
 the brook was. By their suggestion, we pursued our way 
 along its banks, and at last came to where the water was 
 flowing. Do you understand ? " 
 " Not quite, but perhaps I shall presently. Go on." 
 " The water had been diverted by some means or other 
 from its accustomed channel, and we soon found what 
 that means was." 
 "WhatP" 
 
 " The subterraneous passage ran underneath the bed of 
 the brook, which formed the ceiling in one part. This 
 ceiling had been broken, and the water allowed to flow 
 through, which it would have a natural tendency to do." 
 
 " I understand you now. You mean to say that they 
 all went down into the passage, and then broke through 
 the ceiling and let in the water." 
 " That is the conclusion we came to." 
 "But you could find nothing of them ? " 
 f Nothing. We kept the closest possible watch, and 
 searohed ail around; but quite unavailingly. They had 
 disappeared." 
 
 " Very remarkable," coincided Jonathan, as he let his 
 head fall into the palm of his hand, in an attitude of 
 intense thought. 
 
 " It quite baffles me, Mr. Wild. You see I was done 
 for almost at the beginning of the affair, or else, perhaps, 
 things would not be just as they are." 
 
 " Probably not. However, Mr. Lovat, you can make 
 your way to London as fa6t as you like, only leave one of 
 your men as a guide, and I will repair to the plantation, 
 and see what I can find." 
 " Very well — very well." 
 
 " The villains shall not escape me. I have already had 
 no end of trouble with them ; but I will fix myself upon 
 their trail, and turn aside for nothing." 
 
 " You are a wonderful man, Mr. Wild, and may, perhaps, 
 be able to find out something. I trust you may ; for it is 
 quite time the careers of such daring offenders as these 
 are were put to a termination." 
 " Curse them ! " said Wild. 
 " With all my heart." 
 " Where is the man I asked for P " 
 " You can take Smith, Mr. Wild." 
 "Very good. He will do; I suppose he knows th* 
 place P 
 " Quite well." 
 
 " That is enough, then. I will proceed at once, and 
 when you get back to Newgate, let it be known that I 
 have set out after the criminals, and that I shall quickly 
 capture them." 
 *■ I hope you may, Mr. Wild. Good day." 
 " Good day," replied Jonathan ; and then the course of 
 the little procession was resumed. 
 
 Wild put himself at the head of his own men, and had 
 Smith by his side. 
 
 It was rather more than a mile from that pLiee to the 
 
 plantation, so they were not of course, long in reaching it. 
 
 They were obliged to dismount there, and proceed on 
 
 foot, for no horse could have made its way through the 
 
 dense mass of vegetation. 
 
 Jonathan would first of all see the hut, and examine 
 that, which he did with a minuteness that seemed 
 almost unnecessary. 
 
 The manner in which the entrance to the subterraneous 
 passage had been hidden elicited his warmest admiration. 
 
 He would have descended and gone upon an exploring 
 expedition, but the water had risen to a level with the 
 aperture, and he was unable to do so. 
 
 He was next taken to the brook, which did uot now 
 
 present the appearance ascribed to it by the chief of the 
 
 police, for the water was flowing onward in its ordinary 
 
 manner, nor was the channel dry in any part. 
 
 The reason of this was the passage beneath had got
 
 884 
 
 BLUESKIX : A KOMANOE. 
 
 completely filled with water, and consequently the brook 
 ran on as before. 
 
 Through its clear, pellucid waters, however, several 
 breaches in its sandy bottom could be perceived, for when 
 the plugs had been drawn out, tbe rushing of the im- 
 petuous water through the narrow space had made them 
 an enormous size. 
 
 With all his cunning and acumen, Jonathan Wild was at 
 fault. 
 
 He was more than half inclined to think that the water 
 had rushed in by accident, and that thoso who were in the 
 passage at the time had perished. 
 
 He had, however, no proof of this, and he was very un- 
 willing for this supposition to be confirmed. 
 
 He would not have felt satisfied — he would have con- 
 sidered himself baulked, cheated of his revenge, if those 
 whom he pursued with so much malevolence had died 
 any other death than that which the hangman would 
 inflict. 
 
 Accordingly he endeavoured to banish this idea, and 
 calling to his men, gave them instructions to surround the 
 plantation, and beat up every bush, to make sure that 
 they were lurking nowhere there. 
 
 This was a task that occupied some time, but the men 
 set about it in a very systematic manner, and it was very 
 clear that if any one was concealed there they would in- 
 evitably be discovered. 
 
 For a long time however they had all their trouble for 
 nothing. The only living creatures they disturbed were 
 the legitimate inhabitants of the preserve, who rose in 
 the air and uttered melancholy cries as they were roused 
 from their perches. 
 
 _ Suddenly, however, one body of the men — for they had 
 divided themselves into three portions — made a discovery 
 of importance, if one might judge by the loud cry they set 
 up, and which had the immediate effect of drawing all the 
 others towards them. 
 Jonathan Wild made a rush to reach the spffi. 
 His janizaries drew back, and allowed him to eee a 
 human form. 
 
 It was a man, and he was lying extended at full length 
 as though bereft of life. 
 
 A glance showed Jonathan that he was unfamiliar with 
 it, ffnd he uttered a yell of disappointment. 
 
 B it it was Smith who spoke, and what he said served 
 to appease the thief-taker somewhat. 
 
 " This is one of those who were in the hut, Mr. Wild." 
 " Ah ! Are you sure ? " 
 
 " I think so. This, if I mistake not, is the body of the 
 poacher who was first wounded by the keepers, and then 
 took refuge in the hut." 
 " Is he dead ?" 
 " Not quite, I think." 
 
 " Ah ! that is well ; we shall most likely learn from 
 him what we want to know. It is quite clear he was not 
 drowned by the water in the passage." 
 " Very clear." 
 
 " Raise him up a little, and let us try to extract some 
 information from him. Keep good guard around," he 
 added to his men, " perhaps the others are not far 
 distant." 
 
 The janizaries, who had for a minute or two been fully 
 occupied with looking at the poacher, now bestirred them- 
 selves, and resumed their search. 
 
 The wounded man, in obedience to Jonathan's order, 
 was raised to a sitting posture, and then it could be per- 
 ceived that he was not quite dead. 
 
 He uttered a groan, and there was a convulsive twitching 
 about his eyes as he endeavoured to force them open. 
 
 "Hold him still," growled Wild, " and if he has got 
 any life in him we will soon see it. Hold him still." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild took from his pocket his everlasting 
 brandy flask, and holding the mouth of it to the man's 
 lips, he poured an immense quantity of it down his 
 throat. 
 
 The man gasped and struggled, and seemed upon tho 
 •joint of choking, when he recovered himself and looked 
 around him. 
 
 He looked scared and terrified when he saw Wild and 
 his men standing around him, and he maclo an abortive 
 effort to rise to his feet and fly. 
 
 But too firm a hold was kept upon him for any such 
 effort to be sue Vsful. 
 
 Finding this, and exhausted perhaps by the exertion 
 
 he had made, he sank into a state of half-unconsciousness. 
 
 " Speak," said Wild, " and save your miserable life. 
 
 Speak, and tell me what has become of the three men 
 
 who were with you in the hut." 
 
 The poacher raised his head, and looked Jonathan in 
 the face. 
 
 Then he shuddered, and a gurgling noiso made itself 
 heard in his throat. 
 
 He was evidently trying to speak. 
 
 But his head dropped, and his jaws fell, while Lis body 
 doubled up into a strange heap. 
 
 " Confound him, he's dead ! " cried the thief-taker, 
 exasperated at this unexpected event. " Confound him, 
 he's dead! Let us try more brandy." 
 
 More brandy was tried ; but the fiery spirit had lost its 
 potency. 
 
 The man was quite dead, and beyond its revivifying 
 influence. 
 
 Jonathan swore in a most awful manner for five 
 minutes, at the end of which time he had exhausted his 
 vocabulary. 
 
 He had made sure of hearing something from this man; 
 but he was defeated of his expectation. 
 
 But be turned with all the greatest energy to continue V 
 his search about the spot. 
 
 As the reader knows, his search could only have one 
 result. 
 
 Those for whom he so assiduously sought were far away 
 from there. 
 
 But Jonathan would not leave until he had thoroughly 
 searched the neighbourhood. 
 
 At last, and most reluctantly, he was obliged fo turn 
 back towards London without having achieved anything. 
 
 Our readers can, without much difficulty, picture his 
 frame of mind, for they have more than once perceived the 
 amiable effect which disappointment had upon his temper. 
 
 Woe to the unfortunate individual who crossed his way. 
 
 But though he turned towards London, he had by no 
 means given up his search. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCVIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD MEDITATES UPON HIS POSITION, AND 
 RESOLVES TO SHOW HIS ENEMIES THAT THEY HAVE 
 NOT CRUSHED HIM YET. 
 
 Jack Sheppard crushed the paper which he had just 
 purchased in an angry manner, and thrust it into his 
 pocket. 
 
 He was annoyed to think that attention should be so 
 pointedly directed towards him. 
 
 But he had scarcely any one to blame but himself— he 
 had merely purchased for bravado's sake. 
 
 Taking no further notice of the idle, gaping throng, he 
 turned round the first corner he came to, and in a moment 
 was out of sight. 
 
 He continued walking for some little time, and then 
 found himself in Soho. 
 
 This was a quiet quarter of the town, and he looked 
 about him in search of some quiet-looking out-of-the-way 
 public-house, where he could stop untii the time came 
 when he had his appointment with his comrade. 
 
 He was not long in finding that of which he was in 
 search. 
 
 A few paces down the street he saw a projecting sign, 
 but there was not light enough for him to see what was 
 painted upon it. 
 Nor did he care to know. 
 
 The exterior of the place pleased him ; it seemed to be 
 just the place he wanted, and he entered. 
 
 He walked down the passage to the bar, and asked a 
 girl who was standing there whether he could have a 
 private room for an hour or two. 
 
 He was replied to in the affirmative, and, taking a small 
 hand-lamp in her hand, the girl conducted him to a scantily- 
 furnished room upon the first-floor. 
 
 Jack was hungry and thirsty, and having no idea what 
 would happen during the next few hours, he determined 
 to make a good meal while he had the opportunity. 
 
 He gave his orders accordingly, and a plentiful repast 
 was spread before him, of which he partook heartily. 
 This over, he turned round to the fire, and bethinking 
 
 I himself of tho paper he had purchased, he drew it from 
 his pocket and began to read.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 885 
 
 The document was a tolerably good specimen of its class. 
 
 The top of it was adorned with a rude representation 
 of the manner in which Jack had been drawn between 
 the two spikes. 
 
 Then followed a tolerably accurate account of all that 
 had occurred, with such exaggerated embellishments as 
 the public taste craved for, and ended with the string 
 of verses which invariably form an adjunct to such per- 
 formances. 
 
 Jack read it through to the end, and then he diopped 
 the hand that held the paper between his knees. 
 
 He gave himself up tor the first time to a little serious 
 reflection. 
 
 Little by little the whole of his past life was brought 
 before him. 
 
 The retrospection was not a pleasant one. 
 
 Still, for all that, he pondered deeply over it. 
 
 The larger share by far of his thoughts was, however, 
 oestowed upon Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He recalled k> mind the strange manner in which he 
 nad first heard of her, and the still stranger circumstances 
 under which their meeting had taken place. 
 
 There needed no one to tell Jack that he passionately 
 loved her. He could feel it — he knew it ; he knew as well 
 that his passion was hopeless — that it could never be 
 requited. 
 
 There was such a gulf between them that he could 
 never cross. 
 
 But though he knew all this, he made not the slightest 
 attempt to quench his love. He felt that so long as his 
 Heart beat in his bosom, he should love her. 
 
 It was a kind of love rarely indeed met with. 
 
 Unselfish love. 
 
 All he desired was her welfare and happiness. He felt 
 how glad he would be to lie down and quit this life of 
 turmoil, could he but first see the heiress triumph over her 
 enemies, and be instated in her just possessions. 
 
 The more Jack thought, the more sad he grew. 
 
 There was a bottle of wine upon the table, and he 
 drank of it repeatedly ; but such was his state of mind, 
 that his spirits were in no way cheered thereby. 
 
 Indeed it took no more effect upon him than if he had 
 drank so much water. 
 
 There was a half-choked feeling in his breast which 
 rose up every moment in his throat, and which required 
 all his self-control to keep down. 
 
 Poor Jack ! his indeed had been a sad, sad life, and 
 there was little prospect of its reaching a happy termina- 
 tion. 
 
 He could trace all, however, to the evil operations of the 
 arch-fiend, Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He had all through been his malignant destiny, and 
 pursued him with untiring inveteracy. 
 
 To be sure, up to now, Jack had baffled and set at 
 nought all the attempts he had made upon his life and 
 liberty, but every day his position grew more complicated 
 and embarrassing. 
 
 His life was forfeit to the laws of his country. He was 
 a felon condemned to death. 
 
 He groaned bitterly. 
 
 But he cast aside as much as he could all recollection of 
 himself. 
 
 He felt that to dwell upon the theme could do nu good, 
 and in the end unnerve and unfit him to carry out the 
 plans which he had formed. 
 
 He turned the whole of his thoughts to a consideration 
 of the position of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 His determination was this. 
 
 He would continue his desperate fight against adverse 
 fate until he had seen her safe, and then — then he should 
 be quite ready. 
 
 He trusted still to live to accomplish the downfall of 
 Wild. Could he but see that, he felt that he should die 
 with one pang the less. 
 
 Whether he will do this the history will unfold. It 
 xnust be remembered that three determined persons were 
 all working to one end. 
 
 Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Blueskin. 
 
 Steggs. 
 
 Jonathan Wild certainly treads upou ^3ry dangerous 
 ground. 
 
 But he was a man of no common order, »nn a match 
 generally to all who opposed him. 
 
 It wjl be seen that Jack's reflections all ended in the 
 same place. 
 
 If he thought of himself, his heart rose in revenge 
 against the thief-taker. 
 
 If he thought of Edgworth Bess, there were he' 
 wrongs to be avenged. 
 
 Such being the conclusion of his reflections, he (?we1* 
 upon it in every possible way. 
 
 He taxed his ingenuity to the utmost in the endeavour 
 to decide upon some plan which would procure Wild's 
 annihilation. 
 
 And as he thought and pondered upon his revenge, as 
 his multitudinous wrongs rose up palpably before him, 
 his brain grew heated, his blood boiled. 
 
 The wine then began to show its effects. 
 
 There was a clock in one corner of the room, and Jack 
 glanced up at it. 
 
 There were yet two good hours to elapse before his 
 appointment with Blueskin. 
 
 " I will play them all a trick," he said. " I will let 
 Jonathan Wild and all the rest of the world know that I 
 am not vanquished yet." 
 
 What idea it was which Jack had got into his head the 
 reader will very quickly see. 
 
 He rang the bell, and called for pens, ink, and paper. 
 
 These materials for writing were placed before him. 
 
 " I will write to Mr. Applebee first," he said. " Now 
 to begin ! " 
 
 Jack was not much of a writer, but he soon set down on 
 paper that which follows, in a hand so plain that no one 
 could misread it. 
 
 " Safe out of Newgate. 
 " Mr. Applebee, printer of dying speeches, in Blackfiiars. 
 
 " Sir, — I have just purchased one of your papers about 
 my life, trial, and escape from Newgate. I must own I 
 read it with very great interest, and I daresay a good 
 many will do the same, which will answer your purpose 
 and put money in your pocket. 
 
 " I write these lines to 'you in case you should want a 
 second edition. If so, you can put this letter at the foot 
 by the way of a postscript, and I beg to tell you that the 
 person who leaves this at your house is no other than 
 " Your very humble servant, 
 
 "John Sheppard." 
 
 This characteristic epistle needs no comment, and 
 scarcely any explanation. 
 
 Mr. Applebee was the name of the man who had 
 printed the bill which Jack had bought in the street, and 
 whose trade chiefly consisted in the production of such 
 documents. 
 
 Jack deliberately folded up the letter and sealed it. 
 
 " Now for Mr. Noakes," he said. " He shall be 
 favoured." 
 
 He then wrote as follows s— 
 " Mr. Noakes. 
 
 " Sir, — I trust you won't be offended with me for leaving 
 your mansion without bidding you good-bye. I was very 
 loath to do it, but circumstances compelled me. I shall 
 be much grieved, too, if you get into any trouble on my 
 account. 
 
 " I write these few lines to say that I am safe and well, 
 but not very rich, and cannot afford to pay the postage of 
 this letter, so I will call and leave it at the lodge-gate 
 myself, and ask the man on the lock to deliver the same 
 to you with all speed. 
 
 " Give my compliments to Mr. Jonathan Wild, and 
 tell him from ma that I live in hopes of seeing him tucked 
 up at Tyburn some fine morning. 
 
 " From your very humble servant, 
 
 "John Sheppard." 
 
 Jack laughed when he finished this letter, but having 
 done so, he folded it up, and addressed it to the governor 
 of the prison. 
 
 " This will astonish them, I take it," he said. " It will 
 show them that I am not at all down-hearted. Let me 
 see, there will be a tolerable reward for me now. How 
 mad they will both be when they find how near they were 
 to earning it. Ha ! lia ! I am off now. I will deliver 
 these letters at once.'' 
 
 He slipped them into his pocket as he spoke and called 
 for the girl 
 
 Thon^ having paid his reckoning, he put on his hat, and 
 set out upon his perilous and, we think, foolhardy errand.
 
 186 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER CXCIX. 
 
 JACK 8HEPPARD KNOCKS AT THE DOOK OF NEWGATE, 
 AND DELIVERS THE LETTER TO THE MAN ON THE 
 LOCK. 
 
 Terrible and spirit-crushing as were the numerous inci- 
 dents in Jack's life, that which we have just recorded will 
 serve to show that they had not succeeded in wholly 
 extirguishing that love of fun, frolic, and bravado whirb, 
 in happier days, had formed a distinguishing feature in 
 his composition. 
 
 We think the letters themselves quite sufficient to make 
 the reader understand what he intended to do. 
 
 No good could possibly come of it. 
 
 He was exposing himself to an unnecessary risk, and his 
 enemies would be still more exasperated with him. 
 
 But he determined to show his pluck, as he called it. 
 
 He walked with a hasty and confident step in the direc- 
 tion of Mr. Applebee's, the printer. 
 
 The hour was late, and few people were abroad. 
 
 A steady, persevering, uncomfortable rain, too, was 
 falling, and had been falling for a long time, and it was 
 this that had in a great measure tended to clean the street 
 of people. 
 
 Jack himself soon found this inconvenient; and a hack- 
 ney-coach happening to come by, he hailed it, and directed 
 the coachman to drive him to Blackfriars-bridge. 
 
 Upon reaching this place, which they did without the 
 occurrence of any particular incident, Jack alighted, and 
 having paid his fare, walked the remainder ui the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 The printer's address had been given in full at the foot 
 of the bill he had purchased ; and as the locality was well 
 known to him, he found it easily enough. 
 
 It was a poor tumble-down looking tenement in a back 
 street, and from its windows there came but one solitary 
 ray of light. . 
 
 There was a knocker on the door and a bell-handle on 
 the door-post, so Jack applied himself to both means of 
 summoning admission, and made the quiet street echo 
 and ring again. 
 
 The appeal was answered in a little while by a man who 
 had on over his clothing a white apron. 
 
 " What the devil do you want ?' 
 
 To this polite interrogation, Jack replied— 
 
 "Is this Mr. Applebee P" 
 
 " Which Mr. Applebee do you want P " 
 
 " The one that prints the dying speeches." 
 
 " That is my name," said the man at the door. 
 
 " You are Mr. Applebee himself ? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Tk.at'3 all right then." 
 
 "What's all right?" 
 
 " I hg.ve got a letter for you.** 
 
 "Who from?" 
 
 " Stop a minute." 
 
 Jack felt in his pocket and produced the letter. 
 
 " There it is," he said ; " there is no answer." 
 
 As he spoke these words, he placed the letter in the 
 hands of Mr. Applebee, and darted off into the darkness 
 in a moment, and was out of sight before the printer had 
 time to break the seal. 
 
 He did not run far, because of the fear he had of 
 attracting at lent ion by so doing. 
 
 "That is done," be said. " I wonder what he thinks 
 of it. I have lost half of the fun now. I should have 
 liked to have seen him when he found it all out. How- 
 ever, I must be content. Now, here goes for Mr. Noakes." 
 
 The distance to Newgate was not very great, so ho 
 preferred to walk. 
 
 In a little while the gloomy walls of the huge prison 
 appeared before him. 
 
 An uncomfortable sensation swept over him when he 
 first caught sight of it, but he quickly banished the feeling. 
 
 He had the letter in his grasp, so running up the little 
 flight of stone steps before the wicket door leading into 
 the lodge of Newgate, he knocked loudly at it. 
 
 The man on the lock dashed aside the piece of wood 
 which covered the circular grating, and asked what was 
 wanted. 
 
 " A letter for the governor," said Jack. 
 
 Tnere was something in his. voice which sounded 
 familiar to the janitor, and he peered cautiously through 
 
 the bars, but the night was too dark for him to distinguish 
 Jack's features. 
 
 Nor did Sheppard wait for any lengthened scrutiny. 
 
 He pushed the letter between the grated aperture, and 
 said — 
 
 " Give that to Mr. Noakes — there's no answer." 
 
 He ran down the steps as he spoke ; but the man on the 
 lock, whose suspicions were aroused, dashed open the 
 door, while he called out to one cf his comrades who was 
 sitting in the vestibule — 
 
 " Ned— Ned ! follow that chap that's just brought the 
 letter. Hang me if I don't believe it wap Jack Shep- 
 pard." 
 
 "Oh! gammon." 
 
 " Make haste. Bun after him and catch him. If I am 
 right, it will be a good thing for us, and if I am wrong it 
 don't much matter." 
 
 Ned seemed to see the force of this reasoning, for he 
 darted down the steps in pursuit of Sheppard. 
 
 But Jack was nowhere within sight or hearing. He 
 had crossed the street, and hurried down one of the 
 numerous courts that abound there. 
 
 As he did so, he heard St. Paul's clock chime a quarter 
 to eleven. 
 
 He would have to make haste to keep his appointment 
 with Blueskin at King Charles's statue at eleven. 
 
 Finding the streets now completely deserted, he went 
 at a run, which soon enabled him to get over the 
 ground. 
 
 If anything, the night changed for the worse. 
 
 The rain came down more heavily. 
 
 Jack was already soaked to the skin. 
 
 In spite of the great speed he made, however, he did 
 not reach Charing-cross until some few minutes past the 
 hour agreed upon. 
 
 He approached the large open space cautiously, and 
 glanced all around him, to see whether any of his foes 
 were lurking about. 
 
 But all seemed clear, so he crossed over, making his 
 way direct for the statue, though such was the murkiness 
 of the night, he could not see it until he was close to it. 
 
 There was no one there, apparently; but having 
 pronounced the word Blue, in a low tone of voice, it was 
 instantly responded to by the appearance of Blueskin. 
 
 He had been standing in the shadow of the stonework 
 a few paces off. 
 
 " You are late, Jack." 
 
 " I know it ; but I could not get here sooner." 
 
 " All right — a few minutes are of no importance." 
 
 " Are we quite safe here ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " I looked round me carefully before I drew netr." 
 
 " So did I." 
 
 " I saw no one." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 " I think we may venture upon saying we have the 
 place all to ourselves, aud Blue, tell me — do not keep me 
 in suspense a moment — have you heard anything of— 
 of Edgworth Bess ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Be calm, and not impatient." 
 
 " I can, while anything else is spoken of. Your best 
 course will be to tell me all you know at once." 
 
 " I saw Steggs, then. Jonathan Wild is from home, 
 or was from home when I saw him. He had set out at the 
 head of twenty men in pursuit of us." 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 "Steggs took the opportunity to slip out, and I was 
 fortunate enough to see him. Do you know the position 
 Steggs occupies in Wild's household ?" 
 
 "Not precisely. You have had do opportunity of 
 explaining things fully." 
 
 " No more I have. Well, then, you may take this for 
 granted — we have not a better friend, nor Edgworth Bess 
 a more devoted adherent than her old enemy, Steggs." 
 
 " You told me that before, but I mistrust the man." 
 
 " I think you hardly just. However, we met together, 
 and decided to accomplish Wild's destruction. We were 
 both to unite and work to that end, exclusively of all 
 others. Steggs made a proposal of a more daring nature 
 than I could have given him credit for. It was to dis- 
 guise himself, and seek employment of Jonathan— to /
 
 BLUESK.IN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 287 
 
 pretend to be his most faithful servant — to worm himself 
 into all his secrets — and in the end to destroy him." 
 
 " A capital, but most dangerous plan." © 
 
 " Those were my own words, but he was bent upon it, 
 and as no one else but himself would be involved in the 
 consequences, I could not well say nay. He went, saw 
 Jonathan, and, strange to relate, was engaged at once." 
 
 " That is very strange indeed. I gave Jonathan credit 
 for more penetration than to allow himself to be imposed 
 nnon like that." 
 
 " But you must take into consideration the powers of 
 dissimulation which Steggs possesses." 
 
 " And so must you and I, Blueskin, to see that he does 
 not act treacherous to us." 
 
 " I do not think there is much fear 1 His heart is 
 filled with desire to be revenged upon Wild and Lord 
 DonmulL.our two greatest enemies, and you know what a 
 powerful motive that is." 
 
 "I do ; and yet sometimes gold will purchase it ! " 
 
 " That I will not deny, Jack : but let me continue." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 " Jonathan fell into the trap ! All this happened during 
 
 Jour imprisonment. On the morning of the trial, 
 onathan, of course, was present in the court." 
 
 " I saw him." 
 
 " To be sure you did ! Well, that was the first chance 
 Steggs had ot exploring the upper part of Wild's house. 
 He knew that Edgworth Bess was a prisoner up stairs, so 
 he crept up carefully, with the intention of speaking to 
 her if possible, and telling her that she had a friend close 
 at hand. 
 
 " He wished to make no more noise than possible, foi 
 he did not know who might be upstairs. When he got to 
 the second landing he heard a door open, and crouched 
 down in a dark corner to listen, and terrified to death lest 
 it should be some one about to descend. His fears were, 
 however, groundless. It was Jonathan's mistress, Mary 
 Milliner: she was muttering to herself, but Steggs could 
 not catch the purport of her words. He saw, though, that 
 she held a long, bright knife in her hand." 
 
 "A knife?" 
 
 " Listen ! She approached a door, which she opened 
 with a skeleton key. Then she passed through it. 
 Steggs followed on tiptoe. You can guess the intention 
 of Mary Milliner. It was to murder Edgworth Bess, of 
 whom she was jealous ! But Steggs was just in time to 
 prevent her. He dashed in, and seized her wrist just as 
 it was about to descend, fie was not strong enough to 
 
 Erevent the blow, but he averted it, and the knife was 
 uried to the hilt in the clothing ot the bed, leaving Edg- 
 worth Bess terrified, but unhurt! " 
 
 CHAPTER CO. 
 
 BLUESKIN MAKES A VERY TEMPTING PROPOSAL TO JACK 
 SHEPPAKD. 
 
 "Good heavens! " exclaimed Jack, wrought up to the 
 ^highest pitch of excitement by this narration; "can a 
 woman have attempted such an atrocity ? " 
 
 " She attempted it, and had it not but have been for 
 the presence ot Steggs she would have consummated her 
 purpose. When she saw him she turned round and 
 attacked him like a maniac. Steggs felt that he was 
 no match for her — that she was stronger than he was. 
 Anxious to end the struggle, then, and exasperated with 
 her for her attempt, he took the knife and stabbed her to 
 the heart." 
 
 " This is wonderful," ejaculated Jack. " Thank heaven, 
 the poor girl escaped that peril." 
 
 Jack was much affected when he thought of the 
 great danger from which the heiress had so providentially 
 escaped. 
 
 " But come," said Blueskin, " I have much to tell you, 
 and as it is so wet a night we shall get soaked to the 
 skin if we stay here. I think I know a safe place 
 close at hand upon the river side. Let us adjourn 
 there." 
 
 " If you think it will be safe." 
 
 * I'll warrant that." 
 
 " Let us go, then, for I am cold to the very bono. We 
 •hall have to decide upon the future." 
 
 "True." 
 
 " Cc-utinuo your narration while we walk." 
 
 "I intended to do so, but we shall reach our destination 
 in a few moments." 
 
 Blueskin struck across the large open space as he spoke, 
 with Sheppard close at his side, who related to him the 
 whole of the strange events that had taken place at 
 Jonathan Wild's house. 
 
 Jack was filled with wonder and astonishment at the 
 strange concatenation of events which had led to the 
 thief-taker selecting Steggs as a kind of confidant, and 
 placing him (Steggs) where he most wished to be. 
 
 " I have seen Steggs since we parted, Jack," continued 
 Blueskin, " I have already hinted as much." 
 
 "What did he say?" 
 
 " Edgworth Bess had heard of your escape from New- 
 gate with unfeigned pleasure, and trusted that you would 
 succeed in getting to a place of ultimate safety.' 
 
 " Did she — did she believe me innocent ? " 
 
 " She did. When Steggs told her of the crime of which 
 you were accused, she expressed, in the strongest terms, 
 her conviction that you were not guilty." 
 
 " Thank heaven for that." 
 
 " Hush ! Here we are at the place of which I spoke." 
 
 They halted before a dim gloomy-looking building as 
 Blueskin spoke. 
 
 Sounds of boisterous revelry came from its interior. 
 
 " Take hold of my arm, Jack, and we will enter. That 
 is it." 
 
 He ascended a couple of steps, and knocked in a peculiar 
 fashion at the door. 
 
 It was opened in obedience to the summons, and Blue- 
 skin uttered some kind of password to the man in a low 
 tone of voice, and the pair were admitted. 
 
 The place which the two comrades now entered was one 
 of those establishments designated by the fraternity who 
 frequented them, a " ken." 
 
 The man who admitted them closed the door imme- 
 diately. 
 
 They were then standing in the nassage, but it was so 
 intensely dark that nothing whatever was visibla. 
 
 Blueskin, however, was one of those who had beea 
 initiated into the mysteries of the place ; so he walked 
 forward for several yards with a confident step, and then 
 he said — 
 
 " Stairs, Jack. Take care how yon descend." 
 
 The caution was given just in time. 
 
 They were at the top of a steep flight of stairs. 
 
 Descending these, they were addressed in a gruff voice 
 by an invisible personage as #)on as they reached the 
 bottom. 
 
 Blueskin replied, and then a door was opened through 
 which they passed, and then a singular scene was presented 
 to Jack's notice. 
 
 Before him was a long and not very well lighted room, 
 at one end of which the door was placed upon the threshold 
 of which he stood. 
 
 This room was filled with a motley company, seated 
 round tables upon miscellaneous articles which were not at 
 all suitable for seats. 
 
 Some thirty or forty were present, mostly of the male 
 sex, though here and there a woman could be seen. 
 
 All, without a single exception, were engaged in talking, 
 smoking, and drinking, and such a hubbub arose from 
 them as to be quite deafening to the ears until they be- 
 come accustomed to the din. 
 
 Blueskin did not give Jack much time, however, to con- 
 template this scene, for he led the way across the apart- 
 ment — if such a word could be applied to such a place — 
 to the obscurest corner, where they sat down. 
 
 For a few moments Jack could not listen to anything, 
 until he had satisfied himself by looking curiously around 
 him. 
 
 Blueskin, however, touched him on the arm, and said — 
 
 "Do not seem too much surprised at what you see 
 here, or you will draw suspicion upon us. Attend to what 
 I have to tell you." 
 
 * Begin." 
 
 " Directly." 
 
 A man approached them. 
 
 He was the waiter for the establishment. 
 
 Blueskin ordered brandy and water for both. 
 
 Tbey were quickly served. 
 
 Every momnnt saw some fresh orrivnl at the plat*. # 
 
 Blueskin VLi known by many there, but he did not wish
 
 188 
 
 BLUESK1W : A ROMANCE. 
 
 to be recognised, so he turned away his head, and drew 
 his hat down over his face. 
 
 He bid Jack do the same, and they resumed their con- 
 versation in a tone of voice very little above a whisper. 
 
 " Steggs told me that Edgworth Bess was very much 
 better, and more contented with her lot. He still re- 
 mained outside her door as a kind of guard. He thinks 
 Jonathan Wild intends no harm to her at present. In- 
 deed, he is so much occupied with your affair that he 
 has no time for anything else ! " 
 
 " But what are we to do with her, Blue ? It will never 
 do to leave her where she is. Besides, it is quite time 
 we did something for her. Think what a time the business 
 has been under hand, and we are no more advanced than 
 we were at first." 
 
 " I grant that ; but, then, think of the tremendous diffi- 
 culties we have had to contend with." 
 
 " I know we have, but we ought to see to it at once 
 now." 
 
 " Yes, I have been thinking of it. You must under- 
 stand that Edgworth Bess is under age, and that she 
 ^,aunot enter upon possession of her estates until she has 
 obtained her majority." 
 
 " I have heard something of that." 
 
 "Jonathan's policy is at once simple and atrocious. 
 Lord Donmull is wholly in his power. He can do with 
 him what ho likes — annihilate him in fact. He keeps 
 him now just to answer his own purposes. Edgworth Bess 
 he keeps a prisoner. So soon as she is of age, which 
 cannot be many months' hence, she will be responsible for 
 her own actions." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " Then he will force her into a marriage with him, and, 
 by virtue of that marriage, obtain possession of the 
 estates." 
 
 " The monstrous villain ! " 
 
 " It is an awful and abhorrent idea ; but while I live he 
 will never carry it out. Now look here." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " It appears to me that we cannot do better than set 
 about first of all releasing Bess from her place of con- 
 finement." 
 
 " I shall agree to that, for I shall know no rest until 
 she is free." 
 
 " But you must think what you must do after you get 
 her at liberty." 
 
 " Ah ! there is that." 
 
 " Neither you nor her will be safe in England." 
 
 " True." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild would discover you sooner or later, 
 and then things would resume their old aspect, only there 
 would be all the less chance of putting them right." 
 
 " I am quite aware of that, and I can tell, too, that 
 you have some plan in your mind. Let me know it." 
 
 " Willingly. I will submit it to your approval." 
 
 " Speak on. I am full of curiosity and anxiety to 
 hear.' F 
 
 " It is this. Suppose we set Bess at liberty, and then 
 for you to fly from England with her to some foreign 
 country, and remain there until she should come of age. 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " Then let her return. She will not have much trouble 
 to gain her rights. When she is properly acknowledged, 
 she will have great influence, and if she uses it, will 
 doubtless be able to procure your pardon." 
 
 Jack's eyes glistened as he heard these words. 
 
 Hie heart swelled, and renewed hope animated his 
 frame. Those few words seemed to give him a new lease 
 of life. 
 
 Bright visions— visions, alas! never to be realized, 
 flitted through his mind. 
 
 He felt courage and strength to go forth single-handed, 
 and meet all his enemies and vanquish them. 
 
 " You approve of the plan, then ? " asked Blueskin. 
 
 " Approve of it ? " iterated Jack. ". How can I do 
 otherwise ? Oh ! that is indeed a glorious plan. Do 
 you really think that it can be realized ? " 
 
 " I do. There is only one thing stands in the way." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " An obstacle than can be overcome." 
 
 " I breathe again." 
 
 " It is this. What we have planned cnnnot be carried 
 out without money — and money, too, in no inconsiderable 
 
 quantity. I need not tell you that neither <rf as 
 possess it." 
 
 " I had forgotten that," said Jack. " That is indeed an 
 obstacle. How is to be overcome ? " 
 
 " That requires some consideration." 
 
 " Have you considered of it ? " 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " And what is the result ? " 
 
 " First, tell me whether you see the necessity of having 
 it." 
 
 " I do fully." 
 
 " And can you see as well how useless it will be for ua 
 to achieve her freedom without we have the money in 
 hand to carry out the enterprise ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 " That is well, then. I wanted to impreea those two 
 things deeply on your mind." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 "You shall know presently. Can you tell how the 
 money could be quickest and best obtained ? " 
 
 " No — no." 
 
 "Then I will tell you, and 1 shall try your mettle. 
 The king's highways are open to you. Levy a toll upon 
 all passengers. There is room now for a brave, daring 
 knight of the road, who, with his faithful steed, will take 1 
 np his position and boldly cry, ' Stand and deliver ! ' to } 
 whoever he might meet." 
 
 CHAPTER CCI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD ATTACKS THE " KEN " UPON THE 
 river's SIDE, AND JACK SHEPPARD HAS A NARROW 
 ESCAPE OF DEATH AND CAPTURE. 
 
 There was a brief interval of silence after Blueskin 
 spoke. 
 
 The words he uttered sank deeply into Jack's mind, and 
 made a deep impression upon it. 
 
 There was something tempting and inviting in the pro- 
 posal. Jack was no stranger to the wild delights of a life 
 on the road, and he thoroughly enjoyed them. 
 
 The plan seemed a feasible one, and surely no other 
 could be found which would be so likely to insure success. 
 
 Blueskin did not break in upon his meditations, but 
 allowed him full time to reflect. 
 
 At length Jack looked up with a composed countenance, 
 and then he addressed himself to him. 
 
 " What is your decision, Jack, now that you have 
 weighed it over in your mind ? Does it meet with your 
 approbation ? 
 
 " It does, for I can think of no other." 
 
 " Give me your hand, then. Believe me to-day I have 
 thought deeply of all this, and I am glad to find that you 
 agree with the couclusions I have come to." 
 
 " I do, but think of the risk. The Knight of the Eoad 
 perils his existence at every moment." 
 
 " And is not yours already forfeit ? " 
 
 " Ah ! yes, I had forgotten that." 
 
 " I thought so. Come, Jack, take a bold heart. Rely 
 upon it, it you think for a month, you will not be able to # 
 find anything better." 
 
 " But how long will it take me to get the sum of money 
 I require ? " 
 
 " That depends upon your luck. Perhaps a week or 
 two only." 
 
 " A week or two ? " 
 
 " Yes ; does that appear so very long that you utter the 
 words in such a tone ? " 
 
 " No, no ; but Bess." 
 
 " She will be safe. Steggs will guard her from Wild ; 
 and should any change in his tactics take place, I shall 
 know it at once, for he knows where he can find me at any 
 moment." 
 
 Jack seemed only half satisfied. 
 
 He would have liked to have seen Bess free from Wild's 
 clutches at first, and then he could have gone U\ work with 
 better spirit. ^ 
 
 But that was not to be thought of. 
 
 His ruminations, however, met with a sudden and 
 violent interruption. 
 
 There was a crashing sound— the war of many voices. 
 
 A shrill whistle was sounded. 
 
 Every one within the apartment rose to his feet, and 
 a scene of the greatest confusion ensued. 
 
 " The redbreasts are upon us ! Fl^ — flv 1 "
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCR 
 
 289 
 
 =m^m 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD HAS A CONFIDENTIAL INTERVIEW WITH LOUD DONMULL.] 
 
 These words were uttered by some one near Jack, and 
 he next moment the light which illumined the place was 
 extinguished. 
 
 The darkness was that of the grave. 
 
 Blueskin caught Jack by the arm. 
 
 " The officers ! " he said. 
 
 " What are they doing here ? " 
 
 " I know not ; but they have made an attack upon the I 
 place." 
 
 " Have you ever heard of such a thing before ?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; when they have had any idea that a person 
 of any importance was here." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 "A person whose capture was desired, or for whom a 
 large reward was offered." 
 
 ' And they are here now !" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Is it Wild?" 
 
 " I have no idea." 
 
 " Do you think we can have been tracked here ?" 
 
 " T know no better than yourself." 
 
 " There is a general move. What is to be done ?" 
 
 " Keep still a moment ! " 
 
 " I will not move." 
 
 " Pray do not ; or, in this darkness, if you were once t» 
 get separated from me, I should never find you again. 
 Do not be impatient. Every impediment possible will be 
 thrown in the way of those who wish to enter, and if'Jbe 
 worst comes to the worst we shall have to fight for it. 
 
 " Can we not leave this place ?" 
 
 " We could leave the apartment which we are now m v 
 but the house is doubtless well surrounded at every portf' 
 so (hat there would be no getting away." ( f 
 
 " But we must not stay here and be captured.'^ 
 
 " Certainly not. Hark ! Do you hear that P " 
 
 From somewhere outside they heard a man spetili v. r 
 loud tone. 
 
 There was no mistaking the voice. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild. , . 2,, 
 
 " Thero are two here," he said, " to-cight. Uive theu. 
 
 No. 37.
 
 ;*n 
 
 SLUESKIN ; A ROMANCE. 
 
 op, and 1 will not trouble the rest, but depart at once 
 with them. They arc Jack Sheppard and Blueskin. 
 They have been watched here, and the place is surrounded, 
 bo that they cannot escape. Give them up ; and the rest 
 of you may go free." 
 
 A momentary silence followed this speech, and then a 
 voice cried — 
 
 " Dowu with Jonathan Wild ! Down with him ! Who 
 can trust Jonathan Wild ? Down with him ! You are 
 here in strong force to-night, my lads. Down with him, 
 I say ! Down with him ; and as for giving up Jack 
 Sheppard, that would be a shame." 
 
 " Down with him ! " repeated at least fifty voices. 
 " Hurrah ! Down with him ! Hurrah for Jack Sheppard, 
 the prince of housebreakers ! Hurrah ! " 
 
 " You heard that ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It is ah" right. Jonathan won't take us in a hurry. 
 He will have to fight well." 
 
 " But cannot we leave this place? 1 am impatient to 
 begone." 
 
 8 Quietly. Follow me." 
 
 Still keeping his grasp upon Jack's arm, Blueskin made 
 his way across the underground apartment. 
 
 From the other end, however, there came a bright flash 
 of light. 
 
 Jack turned back to look. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, with a body of his men at his back, 
 nearly every one of whom carried torches in their left 
 hands, stood upon the threshold. 
 
 Their appearance was greeted with a yell from the 
 throats of the members of the "family," and, armed with 
 euch weapons as they could conveniently lay their hands 
 upon, they rushed forward and attacked Wild. 
 
 Of all that large and disorderly assemblage, there 
 probably was not one who had not a personal feeling 
 against the thief-taker. 
 
 He was their individual and collected enemy. 
 
 With respect to Jack Sheppard, there was not one of 
 the lawless orew who did not regard him with feelings of 
 the utmost admiration. 
 
 That he should triumph over Jonathan as he did, gave 
 them unbounded pleasure. 
 
 And, then, to think that he should have twice per- 
 formed the unparalleled feat of breaking out of Newgate, 
 made them look upon him as some one quite out of the 
 common way. 
 
 If he was there amongst them — and they had little 
 doubt about the correctness of Wild's information — they 
 made up their minds he should not be taken prisoner 
 without a desperate struggle upon their part to prevent it. 
 
 In this place we may as well relate how it was that 
 Wild came to know the precise whereabouts of our two 
 friends. 
 
 We left him last, after his hootless search in the planta- 
 tion, on his way back to London, having come to the con- 
 clusion that in the great city was the most likely place to 
 find them. 
 
 Jonathan Wild very well knew he had in his house a 
 species of loadstone, which would prevent Jack from going 
 very far away from it for any length of time. 
 
 That loadstone was Edg worth Bess. 
 
 And so, calculating upon the affection of his victim, he 
 turned towards London. 
 
 Patience, he thought, and then Jack would walk into 
 his hands. 
 
 Without the occurrence of any incident, he reached 
 London. 
 
 But when ho drew up to the door of his own house in 
 Newgate-street it was' quite dark, being between nine 
 and ten o'clock at night. 
 
 He dismounted quickly, and left his steed for his men 
 to take care of. 
 
 Tb^n, as if struck with a sudden thought, he did not 
 e&i,~ his own house, but turned round the corner into the 
 Olv'-uaiiey. 
 
 He paused before the lodge gate. 
 
 As he went up the little stone steps which led to it, and 
 as he knocked at the door, he could tell that something of 
 ar .iX.truuidinary character was taking place withiu. 
 
 He peered through the iron spikea above the door, and 
 knocked again — for his first summons was taken no notice 
 of at all. 
 lie roared out at the same time to the man on the lock. 
 
 The door was opened directly it was seen who sought 
 for admission. 
 
 " What's the matter ? "growled the thief-taker. " What'* 
 the matter ? " 
 
 Mr. Noakes came forward. 
 
 He held a letter in his hand. 
 
 " Would you believe it ? " he said. 
 
 " Believe what ? " 
 
 Mr. Noakes made no reply. 
 
 He simply handed the letter to Wild, 
 
 The thief-taker read it from beginning to end without a 
 word. 
 
 He could not believe that whnt he saw was real. 
 
 He read a second time ; and then, when he found there 
 could be no sort of doubt about the reality of what he saw, 
 he burst out into some most remarkable curses, which 
 even had the effect of astonishing all the turnkeys. 
 
 " Ten thousand devils ! " he cried. " How long ha7e 
 you had this letter ? " 
 
 " Not ten thousand seconds ! " said the governor. 
 
 " Curses upon my delay ! I should have been here 
 sooner. Do you thiuk this young devil's imp really 
 brought the letter, or is it a trick of his ? " 
 
 " Goggs here, who was upon the lock, is quite sure of 
 it. He knew him in a moment, and sent Ned after him, 
 but there was no signs of him to be seen." 
 
 " And yet he walked under your very noses. Curse 
 him ! I can't help admiring him for his courage, but he 
 hasn't got far off, I'll wager ; and I will have him back in 
 his cell before morning." 
 
 " I only hope you will," said Mr. Noakes. 
 
 CHAPTER CCII. 
 
 JONATRAN WILD REACHES THE LODGE OP NEWCIATE 
 ABOUT FIVE MINUTES TOO LATE. 
 
 Jonathan Wild ran down the steps into the Old Bailey. 
 
 He swore awfully all the while, aud, had ho worn his 
 own hair instead of a wig, he would doubtless have torn 
 it off by handfuls, and cast it down at his feet in the 
 extremity of his rage. 
 
 So little time had been occupied in his visit to the 
 prison, that the men he had left at his door, though they 
 had dismounted, had not dispersed, but were staudiug in 
 the street in a body, with their bridles in their hands. 
 
 " Mount ! " he cried, as soon as he saw them. " Mount, 
 curse you ! and follow me. Jack Sheppard is here under 
 our noses ! " 
 
 Upon hearing this announcement, the men, who had been 
 offered a good round sum each for securing Jack, scrambled 
 iuto their saddles with great alacrity. 
 
 Jonathan Wild did the same, and putting themselves at 
 their head, he trotted down the Old Bailey. 
 
 But though both he and his gang cast their eyes right 
 and left as they passed down the thoroughfare, they could 
 not see any signs of the person they so much wished for. 
 
 In a few minutes they emerged on to Ludgate-hill, then 
 a much more steep and dangerous descent than it is now. 
 
 The fine rain which had been falling so steadily all the 
 evening, had made the hill very slippery indeed, and such 
 was the dangerous condition it was in, tbat Jonathan had 
 to rein in his steed, and proceed down it at a walking 
 pace. 
 
 Just before he reached what is now Farringdon-stred'i, 
 but which was then Fleet Market, his attention wad 
 attracted by a man who was running on the pavement. 
 
 This man, whoever he was, no sooner saw Wild than La 
 changed his course, and ran straight to him. 
 
 Jonathan drew a pistol, for he did not kuow whether 
 this new comer was friend or foe, but he judged it was 
 more likely to be the latter than the former. 
 
 " Mr. Wild, Mr. Wild ! Is that you ? Is that you, M*. 
 Wild?" 
 
 " What if it is ?" growled Jonathan.^ 
 
 " I know it is ; I can tell your voice. How ludLf I 
 have met with you." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Don't you know me ? " 
 
 « No." 
 
 " Stevens, Stevens ; I'm Stevens." 
 
 " All right," said Jonathan. 
 
 He restored the pistol to his pocket. 
 
 Stevens was one of the men in the regular polio* feffii 
 who were friendly to Wild.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 $A\ 
 
 The importance of having men of this description is 
 obvious. 
 
 They put Jonathan on the track of many things which 
 he would have known nothing about. 
 
 " What is the news ? " asked Jonathan. " Anything 
 important?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Is it about Jack SheppardP " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then you shall be rewarded amply. I aaa now in 
 search of him. Have you seen him ? 
 
 " Not a quarter of an hour since." 
 
 " Where, where ! " 
 
 "And Blueskin with him." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " I did, Mr. Wild, and so I ran off to find you.™ 
 
 " Where did you see them ? " 
 
 " At Chariug-cross." 
 
 " At Charing-cross ? " 
 
 ■ Yes." 
 
 " Go on, and be quiok." 
 
 " I will, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Tell me all, that I may know how to act." 
 
 " I was standing close to the railings of King Charley's 
 statue, sheltering myself, as well as 1 could, from the rain, 
 when I saw some one cross the open space and stand in the 
 shadow of the statue." 
 
 " Go on, go on." 
 
 " I thought in a moment that it was an appointment 
 of some kind, so I did not move an inch, but screened 
 myself as close to the railings as I possibly could." 
 
 " Make haste." 
 
 " You said I was to tell you all, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I know I did." 
 
 " I waited and listened, and presently I saw another 
 figure come across the square, and I could have taken my 
 davy that was Jack Sheppard. 
 
 " However, 1 did not move, and up he came to the 
 statue railings, and the one that had got there first stepped 
 forward and spoke to the second. I could not tell what 
 the words were, because he spoke in a very low tone of 
 voice, but I could tell by the tones who it was. It was 
 Blueskin." 
 
 " Make haste." 
 
 " You needn't trouble, Mr. Wild, they are quite safe. 
 However, I'll tell you more. I stopped quite still, for 1 
 thought if I moved they would take the alarm and be off ; 
 so I listened. They came back to the statue, and stood 
 talking for a good while." 
 
 " And could you hear then what they said." 
 
 " No, only a word here and there." 
 
 " And what were those words ? " 
 
 " I can't recollect, Mr. Wild." 
 
 M Not recollect ? " 
 
 " No. It was only a word here and a word there that 1 
 heard, and they didn't make no sense at all." 
 
 " Oh ! " 
 
 " However, I kept quito still, determined not to move 
 an inch till I had housed them. As it happened, I had 
 not long to wait. One took hold of the other by the arm, 
 and straight across the square they went, in the direction 
 of Northumberland House." 
 " You followed." 
 
 "Of course I did. I never let them be out of my 
 sight one moment, Mr. Wild. They went past Nor- 
 thumberland House, and turned down one of the streets 
 leading to the river. I followed them still, but more 
 cautiously than before, because the street was empty, and 
 there was consequently all the more danger of their hear- 
 ing me." 
 
 ?< What next?" 
 
 " At the bottom of this street, and built quite upon the 
 river's side, is a thieves' ken, which I am sure, Mr. Wild, 
 you must know very well." 
 " I do. Are they there ? " 
 " Yea, they are inside. I watched them go in." 
 " But, while we have been talking here they may have 
 left." 
 
 " I hardly tbmk so, Mr. Wild. If they have, it don't 
 
 matter." 
 
 J| Why not?" 
 
 I know a man who lives in the street, so I went to 
 
 him, and got him to stand in front of the door and watch 
 
 whether they cams out, and if they did, to follow them 
 
 wherever they went, and on no acoount to lose sight of 
 them." 
 
 < " Very good, Stevens. You have acted most sensibly 
 throughout this matter. You shall have an ample reward 
 if you will come to my houso in the morning." 
 
 " Shall I go with you now, Mr. Wild ? I can show you 
 the way." 
 
 " And you can speak to the man you have left on the 
 watch." 
 " To be sure I can, sir." 
 
 " Then get up behind one of my men, and now, quick- 
 forward ! " 
 
 At the word the little troop put itself in motion. 
 Across Fleet Market— up the ascent of Fleet-street— 
 and under Temple-bar they went. 
 
 UpoD reaching the narrow turning by the side of 
 Northumberland House, which led down to the river, the 
 men, by Wild's orders, dismounted from their steeds. 
 
 Two were left iu charge ot them, and the remainder, 
 headed by the thief-taker and Stevens, proceeded 
 stealthily down it. 
 
 "That is the ken," said Stevens, presently, as he 
 pointed to a faint light in the distance. 
 " Where is your man ? " 
 
 " A little further on. I told him to keep out of sight. 
 I dare say he is in one of the doorways." 
 
 The houses in this little narrow street were very ancient 
 structures, aud furnished with very curious porches over 
 the doorways. 
 
 In old-fashioned country-towns others of a similar 
 fashion may still be seen, like little houses projecting 
 out, with a seat on each side. 
 
 Bettei hiding-places thau these could not be wished, 
 and, as Stevens had foretold, upon passing one of those 
 he found his man. 
 
 Upon inquiry, he found that no two persons answering 
 to the description of Jack and Blueskin had emerged from 
 the ken. 
 
 So far, then, all promised well. 
 
 Jonathan Wild's next proceeding was to carefully 
 suiTound the ken upon the three sides, where it was 
 practicable, with his men. 
 
 The fourth side overlooked the river which was now 
 almost at full tide. 
 
 It was not possible to post his men there. 
 Having taken all these precautions, the thief-laker pro- 
 ceeded to commence bis attack upon the ken. 
 
 He knocked in the manner of the initiated, and the door 
 was opened. 
 
 Then in a moment his men rushed in, overcoming all 
 the resistance which the man who guarded the door could 
 offer them. 
 The interior of the ken was well known to Wild. 
 It was about as celebrated a one as any in London, and 
 he had made visits there before to-night. 
 Ho heard the alarm eounded. 
 
 His men were provided with torches, which they lighted, 
 then drawing their swords, they hurried forward. 
 
 We have previously set down the temporizing speech 
 which Wild made to the inmates of the ken when he 
 requested them to give up the two persons of whom they 
 were in search. 
 
 We know, also, how the speech was responded to by those 
 members of the " Family ' who were present, aud having 
 brought our narrative down to this point, and accounted 
 for Wild's presence, which at first seemed rather remark- 
 able, we will resume. 
 
 Finding that the only hope he had of obtaining his pri- 
 soners was by taking them at the sword's point, Jonathan 
 waved his hanger round his head, and uttering a shout 
 which was echoed by tho men behind him, he sprang for- 
 ward, and headed the attack. 
 
 But in return he was attacked with cool determination, 
 and he found that ho should have far more trouble than 
 he had at first expected. 
 
 The " Family was for the most part composed of 
 strong and desperate men, well skilled in the use of war- 
 like weapons. 
 
 Jonathan's janizaries were a long time making an im- 
 pression on them. 
 
 But we will follow Blueskin and Jack Sheppard. 
 It will be remembered that the former had caught hold 
 of the latter and led him across the yault, when Wild 
 effected his entrance.
 
 998 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCB. 
 
 CHAPTER CCIII. 
 
 BLxfBKIN ANB JACK SHEPPARD ESCAPE JONATHAN WILD 
 BY A HAIR'S BREADTH. 
 
 " Never heed him," said Blueskin, when Jack called his 
 attention to their old enemy, and turned round. " This 
 way ; follow me quickly." 
 
 Jack obeyed ; lor of course he wished to save Liu life, if 
 sttch a thing was possible. 
 
 Blueskin led him to a small closed door. 
 There were no fastenings to it visible, but Blueskin 
 pressed upon it in a peculiar manner with his thumb, and 
 rt flew open. 
 
 They passed through instantly, and shut the door behind 
 them. 
 
 They were now in absolute darkness; they bad not 
 even the torches which Jonathan's men carried to aid 
 them. 
 
 " Put your hand against the wall, Jack," said Blueskin. 
 " We are in a passage. Step forward carefully, for we 
 flhall come to some stairs presently." 
 " Going up or down ?" asked Jack. 
 "Up." 
 
 " Should we be safe, do you think, without going any 
 further?" 
 " No ; Jonathan will be almost sure to find as." 
 " I can't hear much noise now." 
 "Nor can I." 
 
 The sound of the fighting, which had before sounded 
 very plainly in their ears, now almost ceased. 
 " What do you make of that, Blue ?" 
 " I don't know." 
 
 " Perhaps Jonathan has changed his tactics." 
 " Likely enough." 
 "Ah! stop!" 
 "The stairs!" 
 " Yes." 
 
 " All right. Go up." 
 " How many?" 
 " Thirteen." 
 
 In the most profound darkness our friends ascended a 
 flight of thirteen stone steps, which, cither from the 
 moisture of the contiguous river, or some other cause, 
 were dangerously slippery with damp. 
 
 The top was, however, reached in safety, and here 
 Blueskin paused a minute or two to listen. 
 
 But all was comparatively still. There was fighting 
 going on somewhere, but it seemed to be below them. 
 " Where now ? " asked Jack. 
 
 "There is a door here. Ah! we must be quick. 
 Jonathan is upon us quicker than I thought he would 
 be." 
 
 There was a war of voices and a crushing sound. 
 The door at the bottom of the steps, which fastened with 
 a secret spring, was broken down. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was the first to dash through the 
 opening. 
 
 He held a torch in his left hand, and the hanger, 
 which he carried in the other, was dripping with blood. 
 
 He saw the stairs, and his eye travelled up them with 
 the rapidity of thought. 
 
 He caught sight of two dusky figures at the top. 
 To do this — drop his hanger, draw a pistol from his 
 belt, aim it and pull the trigger, were events that 
 succeeded each other so quickly that no appreciable 
 interval of time intervened between the first and the 
 last. 
 
 The report of the pistol, which was of enormous size, 
 sounded intensely loud in that confined space. 
 
 Wild did not wait to see what effect his shot had 
 taken. 
 
 Mingling with the last reverberation of the explosion 
 they heard hb voice, crying — 
 
 •'Follow! Follow! Up the steps! Quick! Quick! 
 We shall have them yet ! " 
 
 A small portion of Jonathan's band, who had succeeded 
 in forcing a passage across the vault, wbere the others 
 wore still struggling, obeyed his commands, and darted 
 up the slippery steps after him. 
 
 When our friends saw their invincible enemy 60 close 
 qpon their track, Blueskin opened a door, and, as soon as 
 lie ituil his companion had passed through, secured it as 
 well as he was able. 
 They found themselves in a long passajje. 
 
 " Here my knowledge of the place ends," said Blueskin, 
 " and which way I am to turn I really do not know, and 
 as there is no one here of whom we can inquire, we 
 must trust to our luck, and rely upon that to guide us 
 If Jonathan was not so close behind us, we should be 
 able to make an examination of the place, and see 
 what had best be done. But it is no good to think about 
 that now." 
 
 " Quite waste of time," said Jack. " Surely I must be 
 bullet-proof, for that was the nearest touch I ever had. 
 Look here ! " 
 
 Jack pointed to a scratch along his left temple, from 
 which the blood was slowly oozing. 
 
 One-eighth of an inch more and the wound would have 
 been fatal. 
 
 " I did not know you were hit, Jack." 
 
 " Oh ! it's nothing. Rather a close shave, that is all." 
 
 " Rather too close to be pleasant. Confound him, there 
 he is at the other door! That will be down in a 
 moment ! " 
 
 While speaking, our friends had made their way hastilj 
 along the corridor in a right-hand direction, but when 
 Blueskin spoke, Jonathan had reached the door which 
 they had fastened, and struck it such a succession of 
 heavy and violent blows, that its demolition was threatened 
 every moment. 
 
 Then the end of the passage was reached. 
 
 There was no outlet to it. 
 
 On the left-hand side, however, there was a half -open 
 door, which led into a room. 
 
 This offered them at least rx chance of escape, so they 
 rushed in. 
 
 Fortunately it was vacant. 
 
 Then Jonathan and his men burst into the passage. 
 
 The thief-taker was just in time to see the shadow of 
 their forms pass through the doorway, and he was on 
 their track at once. 
 
 Perspiration etarted from every pore in his body, and 
 down his face and neck it ran in tiny streams. 
 
 Occasionally he would dash his hand across his eyes as 
 he found the falling drops obscured his vision, but that 
 was all the heed he paid to it. 
 
 Blueekiu's first act when he entered the room was to 
 lock the door. 
 
 A lock was the only fasteniug it had, and that was a 
 very cracky affair. 
 
 The key was in it, however, and he turned it. 
 
 There was no time to seek for other securementa. 
 
 " Is there any way out, Jack ? " he asked. 
 
 " None, except the window." 
 
 " Curses ! " 
 
 He glanced round the chamber as he spoke. 
 
 There were signs about it which made it clear that it 
 had only recently been occupied, and it would seem, too, 
 that those who were last in the place had left it rather 
 hurriedly. 
 
 Then he looked up at the window. 
 
 It was a large latticed casement, with two folding 
 leaves. 
 
 " We must either stand here and fight Jonathan Wild 
 and his crew, or jump through the window. Which shall 
 it be ? " 
 
 " Where will the window take you to ? " 
 
 " I don't know, but I will soon see." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin pushed the table close nnder the 
 window, and mounting upon it, looked out. 
 
 Or rather, he endeavoured to look out, but he found 
 there was such a collection of dirt upon the panes that it 
 was impossible. 
 
 He ran his hand up the middle, and felt for the fastener, 
 which he undid, and then swong both leaves of the 
 window open. 
 
 At this very moment Jonathan Wild, who had reached 
 the door, and finding that it was only secured by a lock, 
 placed one of his pistols against the keyhole, and blew the 
 lock off at one blow. 
 
 " Quick ! " said Jack. " He is here." 
 
 " All right," answered Blueskin from the window-sill. 
 " On to the table, and through the window. There's 
 the river Thames not above twelve feet beneath, so wt 
 shall get off, for I know you can swim. Here goes ! " 
 
 Blueskin sprang out of the window before he had wel/ 
 finished speaking. 
 
 A heavy splash followed.
 
 BLUESKIN' : A ROMANCE. 
 
 39B 
 
 Jaok obeyed his hastily-given instructions with great 
 rapidity. 
 
 He mounted on to the table, and made a fljiug leap 
 after his comrade. 
 
 But Jonathan was now fairly in the room, and he saw 
 Jack about to spring. 
 
 His own pistols were all discharged, but he turned 
 round swiftly, and took the one out of the hands of the 
 man next behind him. 
 
 Then he fired it full at Jack. 
 
 But he was just a little too late. 
 
 The report of the pistol mingled with the splash which 
 Jack made as he entered the water. 
 
 He felt bruised and blinded, and seemed to sink fathoms 
 deep into the Thames. 
 
 Jonathan ran hastily to the window, and, jumping upon 
 the table, seemed almost as though he was going to follow 
 those he was pursuing, and take a flying leap into the 
 Thames. 
 
 But a second thought seemed to come over him. 
 
 He waved his torch in the air, and cast the glimmer of 
 its light upon the surface of the turbid river. 
 
 He placed, too, a whistle between his lips, and blew it 
 shrilly, as a signal to those men he had set to surround 
 and watch the house. 
 
 But this signal was hardly needed. 
 
 Already had they heard the two splashes which followed 
 Jack and Blueskin's immersion in the Thames, and they 
 jumped to the conclusion in a moment that their prey had 
 taken to the water. 
 
 Lights were seen moving rapidly upon the river bank, 
 and pistols were continually discharging. 
 
 "A. boat! a boat!" yelled Wild, as he stood on the 
 window-sill, and waved his torch round his head like a 
 maniac. " A boat — a boat ! Get a boat and row beneath 
 this window, and I will drop into it." 
 
 His words were heard, and, after some delay, were 
 responded to. 
 
 The boat was stopped just beneath the window, and 
 Jonathan lowered himself into it. 
 
 He held by his hands to the window-sill, and then he 
 had but a few inches to drop. 
 
 His first act was to seize a torch from one of the men, 
 and make his way to the head of the little wherry, and 
 take a careful look around him. 
 
 But nothing save the black shining water met his gaze. 
 
 There were no traces of either Jack or Blueskin, and 
 though he rowed for a long time around the spot, and 
 though he was aided by several other boats who put off to 
 his assistance, he was unable to find anything that would 
 serve as a clue. 
 
 It seemed as though they had dropped iutc the bosom 
 of the river, and never risen again. 
 
 CHAPTER CCIV. 
 
 IN WHICH JONATHAN WILD HEACHES HIS OWN nOUSE IN 
 NEWGATE-STEEET THOROUGHLY EXHAUSTED. 
 
 " Baffled once more by that devil's cub ! " said Wilt 1 , 
 bitterly, when he found all his efforts to obtain a glimpse 
 of his foes unavailing, and unwillingly had the boat's hea<„ 
 turned to the land. " I should swear they were drowned, 
 only I feel confident that a drier death is decreed for 
 both." 
 
 But this was but a sorry reflection to soothe Wild's dis- 
 appointment. 
 
 To think that he should have taken such precautions. 
 
 To think that he should have felt so sure that he had 
 his prey at length in his grasp. 
 
 To think that when he would freely have wagered any 
 amount that they could not escape from him, that they 
 should after all, in such an incomprehensible manner, slip 
 through his fingers. 
 
 And yet they had done so. 
 
 Stevens, the officer, who thought he had manager! 
 things so cleverly, looked terribly chapfallen. 
 
 Silent and moody, Jonathan landed close to the Lbiaves' 
 keifc 
 
 titu ne, however, left the spot, he took one long lingering 
 look at the river, in the hope that he should, perhaps, 
 catch a glimpse of the forms of those he was so anxious 
 to see. 
 
 But no, the muddy waters fell plash, plash, against the 
 
 wooden piles, which had been driven into the ground to 
 prevent the encroaohment of the water, and that was all. 
 
 The dusky outlines of one or two boats at anchor could 
 be seen, but not a trace of Blueskin or Jack Sheppard. 
 
 In anything but an amiable frame of mind, he summoned 
 his men around him, and going to the top of the street, 
 mounted his horse, and bent his steps towards Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 The fact was, thai what with his disappointment, and 
 the fatigue which the weakness from his wound produced, 
 Jonathan Wild was dead beat. 
 
 The reader must not foiget that he has made some 
 rather incredible exertions considering the debilitated 
 state of his body. 
 
 Indeed, it would not. be too much to say that no other 
 man save Jonathan Wild could have supported himself at 
 all under suoh circumstances. 
 
 At a slow pace he led the way towards Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 When he once more arrived at his door, the first faint 
 flush of dawn from the new day was climbing up into the 
 sky above the roof-tops. 
 
 But he scarcely noticed this. 
 
 He dismounted. 
 
 The door was thrown open by Quilt Arnold, who had 
 been left in charge of the premises during the thief- 
 taker's absence. 
 
 Jonathan staggered up the steps. 
 
 Quilt said something to him. 
 
 He was just aware of that much, but what was the 
 purport of his speech he had not the remotest idea, and 
 he felt too faint and languid to inquire. 
 
 The stairs were straight before him, and mechanically 
 he directed his steps towards them. 
 
 Then arriving at the foot, he grasped the balusters with 
 one hand, and 9lowly ascended step by step. 
 
 LTp to the first floor he went, and into one of the room? 
 which were upon it. 
 
 There was a bed which fitted into a little recess, and 
 towards this he mechauically staggered, and threw him- 
 self at full length upon it. 
 
 Scarcely had he done so than he fell into a profound 
 sleep— sleep so deep that no ordinary sound or noise would 
 awake him from it. 
 
 Let not any one feel surprised that sleep should have 
 come upon him so suddenly. He was almost asleep when 
 he came up the stairs. 
 
 Nature was now having her due. Like a stern creditor, 
 who had for a long time been set aside, she asserted her 
 rights at last, and had them. 
 
 In his half-conscious state, Jonathan did not notice a 
 face that peered over the balusters above, and watched 
 his devious course across the landing. 
 
 Nor did he hear the steps of the person who descended 
 from the upper part of the house and stole into the bed- 
 room after him. 
 
 The dawn became more and more manifest. 
 
 The different objects in the room were being revealed 
 by the slate-coloured light which fell upon them. 
 
 The person who glided into the room, upon reaching 
 the bedside, folded his arms and looked down upon the 
 countenance of the sleeping thief-taker. 
 
 That person was Steggs, who still kept his watch at the 
 door of the poor persecuted heiress. 
 
 Eagerly and anxiously had he watched for Jonathan's 
 return, and now he came at last. 
 
 Came, too, without bringing with him those of whom 
 he had set out in pursuit. 
 
 " He sleeps," said Steggs, in a strange, hoarse whisper; 
 " he is completely overcome. He is helpless, and at my 
 mercy. What shall I do ? Shall I slay him as he sleeps r 
 One blow, and then the persecutions of Edgworth Bess 
 and Jack Sheppard will be over. I think I will do it. 
 Such a chance may never occur again." 
 
 Steggs ceased. 
 
 He felt in his pocket and produced a knife, which he 
 opened, and carefully felt the point. 
 
 But even at that moment a second thought swept 
 through his mind, and the arm which he had raised in ws 
 attitude to strike dropped powerless by his side. 
 
 Jonathan Wild knew it not— never did know it— but 
 that night he had the narrowest escape of his life that 
 ever he had during the whole of his vicissitudinous career. 
 
 Under circumstances of strong excitemeut persoa* will
 
 394 
 
 BMJKSXTV: A ROMANCI. 
 
 frequently, when they are alone, otter their thoughts 
 aloud. 
 
 Steggs did in the present instance. 
 
 " No — no," he said ; " that were indeed a poor revenge. 
 I will not slay him now, though I could easily do so. I 
 will save him — not from any pity that I have for him, 
 but because he shall live longer, in order that my triumph 
 ghall be greater. I must be patient, and wait until he 
 has achieved the height of his ambition — until all thosb 
 daring schemes which he has projected are consummated. 
 Then will be my time. He shall bo cast down from the 
 pinnaole of his greatness." 
 
 Steggs paused, and restored his knife to his poeks^ 
 
 Brighter and brighter grew the new coming day, but 
 the thief -taker still slept that heavy and lethargic sleep 
 into which he had fallen. 
 
 Steggs glided away from the bedside, noiselessly, and 
 then ascended the stairs. 
 
 A chair was provided for him in which to sit, but ho 
 passed it by, aud made his way direct to tho chamber in 
 the occupation of poor Edgwovth Hess. 
 
 He tapped lightly with his finger-ends upon the panel, 
 and from the quickness with which his appeal was 
 answered, it would seem as though the fair prisoner had 
 been anxiously expecting him. 
 
 With the skeleton key which he had taken from Mary 
 Milliner he opened the door and went in. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was wonderfully recovered. 
 
 Indeed, with the exception of a slight weakness, she 
 might almost be said to have entirely recovered from tho 
 hard usage she bad received. 
 
 She was up aud dressed, and stood before Steggs with 
 her hands clasped, looking him beseechingly in the face, 
 like one who fully expected to be made the recipient of 
 bad news. 
 
 Her apparel was ragged and torn, for it had been as 
 roughly used as herself, and showed the effects of it, but 
 it could not mar the beauty of her face, nor the grace of 
 her symmetrical form. 
 
 " Speak — speak," she cried. " That was Jonathan I 
 heard return, was it not? He has returned from his 
 search after Jack Sheppard." 
 
 " Calm yourself," said Steggs, " you have nothing to be 
 alarmed at. Jonathan has returned, and now lies, as I 
 take it, in a drunken slumber, iu one of the rooms below. 
 He has only just returned, and has brought no prisoners 
 with him." 
 
 " Thank heaven for that. Then Jack and Blueskin 
 have once more eluded him. Oh ! there is hope iu that, 
 great hope." 
 
 " There is, indeed," said Steggs. " A littlo patience 
 now, and then doubtless all will be well. I shall see 
 Blueskin soon, aud from him I shall learn further par- 
 ticulars, and more especially the plan of action which 
 it is his intention to adopt. 
 
 Ah ! yes. For my own part I cannot see my way out 
 of the perilous circumstances with which I am surrounded, 
 but then they may. They are stronger-minded than 1 
 am." 
 
 " I am glad you have such a feeling of reliance upon 
 them, since it will make their proceedings all the easier. 
 
 " Oh ! if I could but leave this hateful place ; if I could 
 but be once more with them, my sufferings would not seem 
 half so great." 
 
 " Cheer up. You may see them even sooner than you 
 expect." 
 
 " It seems ages since I saw them last." 
 
 " It is a long time ; and now let me leave you. I 
 wish I could make you feel entirely at your ease. 
 Believe me, while I have the guard of your chamber, 
 no harm will happen to you. If Jonathan attempts 
 to use any violence towards you, he dies. I do not 
 fancy, however, that just at present you have anything 
 to fear from him. Still, if I was found here in con- 
 versation with you, all would be ruined." 
 
 " All would, indeed. Go now at once ; for though I 
 am loath to send you away, still I feel that you have 
 etayed here quite as long as prudence would allow." 
 
 steggs bowed, as though he quite concurred with this 
 opinion, and then ho took his leave. 
 
 He resumed bis old seat upon the chair, and leaning 
 his head upon his bauds, he busied himself in planning 
 tho means he should use to completely overthrow Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 
 To the proceedings of this last-named individual we 
 
 will now return. 
 
 The fierce beams of a noonday gun, falling directly 
 upon his eyes, awoke him. 
 
 They did not have that effect immediately, but gradually. 
 
 When the thief-taker did open his eyes, there came 
 such a flood of light upon them that he felt almost 
 blinded. 
 
 That feeling, however, soon passed away. 
 
 But his head was racked with such terrible pains that 
 he knew not what to do. 
 
 He felt that if they continued long he must inevitably 
 go mad. 
 
 Scarcely conscious, he rose from the bed upon which 
 he had fallen, dressed just as he was, and sitting down 
 upon the side of it, he pressed his temples with hi3 hands, 
 aud looked about him. 
 
 On the opposite side was a large pitcher full of water. 
 
 The neck was large, and probably the whole quantity 
 of water contained in it was nothing under two gallons. 
 
 With a cry, such as some parched traveller upon the 
 burning deserts of Arabia might give utterance to upon 
 seeing a pool of water before him, Jonathan Wild sprang 
 across the room to this pitcher. 
 
 He kuelt down. 
 
 Then plunged his burning, aching head into the 
 pitcher, until it was stopped from going any further by 
 his shoulders pressing against the brim. 
 
 CHAPTER CCV. 
 
 LORD DONMULL HAS A CONFIDENTIAL INTEHVIEW WITH 
 JONATHAN WILD, AND THE LATTER EXHIBITS SOME OF 
 HIS OLD TREACHER V. 
 
 The gush of cold water was intensely delightful. 
 
 The burning and the pain which had before been so 
 excruciating, vanished as if by magic. 
 
 But want of breath soon compelled him to withdraw his 
 head. 
 
 He felt incomparably better, and so soon as he had 
 inflated his lungs, he plunged his head in again with 
 a still keener appreciation of the delight which it afforded 
 him. 
 
 And so he continued this process time after time, until 
 in the end he felt something like himself. 
 
 His next proceeding was to attend to his dress, which 
 was rather disordered. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, however, was not the man to expend 
 much time upon his toilette. 
 
 Upon emerging from his room, which he did with a 
 scowl upon his face, he croseed the landing, aud ascended 
 tho stairs. 
 
 Steggs was at his post. 
 
 " Is all well ? " asked the thief-taker. 
 
 " All, Mr. Wild," replied Steggs. " I have not moved 
 from my post." 
 
 " Good ! Keep a good watch upon her, and the 
 moment anything of an unusual character occurs, com- 
 municate with me." 
 
 " You may depend upon me, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " So far you have performed your duty most satis- 
 factorily. You are sure all is well ? " 
 
 " All, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Then I will go down now. It is la-te, and I have 
 business to attend to. But let me again tell you that 
 if you will continue to serve me faithfully, your reward 
 shall be most ample." 
 
 Steggs protested his thanks. 
 
 Jonathan descended the stairs. 
 
 Upon gaining the hall on the ground-floor, he saw 
 Quilt Arnold in the passage. 
 
 That worthy caught sight of the thief-taker at that 
 moment, and he came towards him as though he had 
 some important message to deliver. 
 
 " What is it, Quilt ? " 
 
 "A gentleman has been waiting to see you, Mr. Wild, 
 ever since the first thing this morning," 
 
 "Ha! Who is he?" 
 
 " He gave mo this card, which he paid would be aufS 
 cieut." 
 
 There was no name on the card, but simply a crest. 
 
 It was sufficient, for Jonathan recognised it iustaotly 
 
 It was the crest belonging to the Donruull family. 
 
 " Where is he ? " he asked.
 
 BLTJXSXn?: A ROMANCE. 
 
 «as 
 
 ■ In No. 2." 
 
 " Bring him op to my room." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan turned round, and ascended the stairs again. 
 
 He entered that room so familiar to the reader, in which 
 he sat when Jack Sheppard was first introduced to him. 
 
 He had just time to seat himself when Quilt tapped at 
 the door. 
 
 Jonathan summoned to his face a stern expression, for 
 it was his intention to deal decisively with his lordsbip. 
 
 He endeavoured to impart something of bis old fierce- 
 ness to his voice as he said, " Come in ! " 
 
 The door was opened, and Lord Donmull entered, 
 ushered in by Quilt, who closed the door behind him and 
 retired. 
 
 It is a long time since we have seen his lordship. 
 
 The last occasion was when Jonathan persuaded him to 
 seek change of scene as a relief to his mind. 
 
 It will not be forgotten, too, that on the occasion of 
 tbat last interview, Lord Donmull was willing to seek out 
 Edgworth Bess, and make all tho reparation that lay iu 
 his power by acknowledging wbat he had done, placing 
 her in possession of ber estates, and trusting to her kind- 
 ness not to expose his wrong doings. 
 
 But this was a state of things that was by no means in 
 accordance with Wild's wishes. 
 
 Bather anxiously, then, he gave a furtive glance into the 
 countenance of his lordship, in order to gather by its 
 expression whether his sentiments had undergone a 
 change. 
 
 He thought they had. 
 
 He rose from his seat as his lordsbip entered, and mo- 
 tioned him to take a chair. 
 
 " Good morning, my lord," he said. 
 
 " Good morning, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " It is some time since we met. Have you taken my 
 advice ? " 
 
 " I have, Mr. Wild. I have." 
 
 " And did you find my advice was good ? " 
 
 " Yes — yes, but I cannot drown thought. I have tried 
 to do it in every imaginable way, but vainly — vainly. The 
 thing is an impossibility." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you say that, my lord." 
 
 " Look here, Wild. You know the business which has 
 brought me here as well as I know it myself." 
 
 " Indeed I do not." 
 
 " Where — where is the girl ? " 
 
 " The girl ? " 
 
 " Yes, Elizabeth. Is she in your power ? " 
 
 " Trouble yourseli no further about her." 
 
 " Is she dead ? " 
 
 " I say, do not trouble yourself any further about her." 
 
 " But I cannot help doing so— I cannot help doing so. 
 While she lives I cannot eujoy tbat which I have ; but 
 if— if she was no more — then I should feel that I was 
 sure." 
 
 " My lord," said Jonathan. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Will you listen to me ? " 
 
 " What do you wish to say ? " 
 
 " That which concerns you intimately." 
 
 " Speak on, then." 
 
 " You are nervous and excited. Tbat is all which ails 
 you. You should keep your hand firm and your head 
 cool, like I do." 
 
 " I wish I was more like you. But that is useless. 
 Now, once for all, and all for once, tell me whether the 
 girl is in your power." 
 
 " Why do you wish to know ? " 
 
 " Never mind." 
 
 "Will you not tell me?" 
 
 " Not till aaerwards." 
 
 " Well, then, she is in my power." 
 
 " I thought so — I thought so." 
 
 "And tell me." 
 
 " Wild I must see her.", 
 
 " This is folly, my lord." 
 
 " It may be, but see her I will, I am determined." 
 
 A dark threatening look came from the eyes of Lord 
 D 'jo mull as he spoke. 
 
 " My lord." 
 T*?t me see the girl !" 
 
 " First listen to roe a moment. My lord, yon pat this 
 affair into iny hand, did you not f" 
 
 " I undertook to bring it to a proper conclusion." 
 " I know you did." 
 
 " Is it too much, then, to ask you to allow things to 
 remain just as they are at present, and not to interfere 
 with me in any way. If it is any satisfaction to you, I 
 will give you my word that you shall have no more trouble 
 wi*h her. Let me persuade you to go forth into the world 
 and to banish all recollection of her from your mind. Will 
 you do this?" 
 
 " You have urged this before." 
 
 " I know I have ; but you have not complied with my 
 suggestions. There are many who would envy the chance 
 which you have got of enjoying yourself as long as you 
 live ; and after that, what matters !" 
 
 Lord Donmull shuddered. 
 
 " I wish I could be as you say ; but when I came here 
 this morning it was with the firm resolution of demanding 
 the girl from you." 
 
 " Tush — tush ! my lord ; she is in safe keeping — I will 
 answer for that — safer keeping than if she were dead ; for 
 then her bones would rise up against you. You have no 
 reason to be afraid. Dismiss from your mind all fee-Uugs 
 of doubt. All is well. I will answer for the girl with my 
 life." 
 
 " I can't tell how it is, Wild, but I feel no enjoyment in 
 my possessions. Mine is truly a wretched life. ' 
 
 "Tut — tut! I would willingly change with you; and 
 now, my lord, there is a little matter which, although you 
 have not alluded to it, I hope has not slipped your 
 memory." 
 
 " To what do you allude r " 
 
 " You employed me in this business, and I have devoted 
 a great deal of time to it, to the exclusion of my own 
 affairs, which were to me of paramount importance. I 
 have completely succeeded in doing all that I intended to 
 do, and now I look for my reward." . 
 
 " You shall have it, Wild." 
 
 " I thought your lordship would make that reply, and I 
 rejoice to hear it; but be under no apprehension, I do 
 not want it now. Any time will do; and as to the amount 
 of it, why that I leave entirely to yourself." 
 
 " You shall have no reason to be dissatisfied with the 
 amount. But, Mr. Wild, you 6ee before you a deeply 
 repentant man. I have done wrong, and I core not who 
 knows it ; and I would fain do justice while it remains in 
 my power." 
 
 Jonathan frowned. 
 
 Were his schemes to be thwarted by the pusillanimity 
 of one of his tools ? 
 
 Never. 
 
 But if he did not adopt some powerful means of pre- 
 venting it, he certainly would be ruined. 
 
 A thought struck him. 
 
 "My lord?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You are still in the same mind ?" 
 
 " I am." 
 
 "And you would wish to place your niece in posses- 
 sion of her fortune ? " 
 
 " Most gladly." 
 
 "Come with me, then, and I will take you to her. 
 In my desire to see yourself righted, I have tried 
 to persuade you to leave things to me, because then 
 they would turn out most to your interest. But you 
 think differently. So be it. Will it please you to come 
 with me ? " 
 
 " Certainly I will," said Lord Donmull, rising with 
 alacrity from his seat. 
 
 " Come this way, then. You can, if you think proper, 
 take hold of my arm." 
 
 " Is she in this house ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then we have not far to go ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no. This way, if you please. Downstairs." 
 
 Lord Donmull took hold of the thief-taker's arm, and 
 the two descended the staircase. 
 
 Upon reaching the ground, Jonathan turned and led bis 
 lordship in the direction of the grating which led to the 
 cells. 
 
 The man who was on guard there, at a sign from Wild, 
 unlocked the ponderous lock, and threw it open. 
 
 " Is it through here, Mr. Wild ? " asked Lord Dunmull. 
 
 "Yes, yes. Down the steps. Take care, 01 yon wiU 
 slip."
 
 BLFESK1N: A ROMANC*. 
 
 "I did; bat" 
 
 "But this seems like a prison," remarked his lordship, 
 as he glanced at the stone walls. 
 
 " It certainly has that appearance," said Wild ; " but it 
 is all the safer for that." 
 
 CHAPTER CCV. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD COMMENCE THE1B AD- 
 VENTURES IN SEARCH OF MONEY IN OKUER TO CARRY 
 OUT THEIR SCHEMES. 
 
 That Jonathan Wild meditates some treachery towards 
 Lord Donmull the readers must feel certain, because, as 
 they are well aware, it was not in those gloomy dungeons 
 beneath his house that Edgworth Bess was to be found. 
 
 But leaving them upon their errand, we will return to 
 Blueskin and Jack Sheppard. 
 
 When the former reached the water, being an excellent 
 swimmer, he quickly rose to the surface, aud turned his 
 face towards land, to be on the look-out for his com- 
 panion. 
 
 He saw him fall, and swam towards the spot. 
 
 But Jack rose at some little distance. 
 
 He reached him, however, in less than half-a-dozen 
 strokes, and the first sounds almost of which Jack was 
 conscious, were those of his comrade's voice. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " he asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Follow me j then. Swim for your life, or Jonathan 
 will have us, after all ! " 
 
 " Where shall you go ? " 
 
 This was a pertinent question, but it was one which 
 Blueskin was not able to give a direct answer to. 
 
 In fact, the leap into the Thames had been taken sud- 
 denly, and without knowing what he should do, so that he 
 now found himself completely at a loss. 
 
 J\jit this, certainly, was no time for deliberation now. 
 ack noticed his comrade's silenoe, aud guessed in a 
 moment the reason of it. 
 
 " Let us swim to shore, Blue," he said. " If we go 
 down the river, Jonathan is sure to overtake us. Let us 
 get back to shore." 
 
 " A good idea," said Blueskin. " We will land close 
 to the ken." 
 
 Accordingly, they swam back to the shore, just at the 
 time Jonathan was lowering himself into the boat. 
 
 For some distance all along the river side, it was fenced 
 in with wooden palisades, which had been driven deeply 
 into the soft ooze at the bottom of the river. 
 
 At low tide they could not possibly have reached the 
 top of these, because there the bed of the river was 
 exposed, and would have swallowed them up like a 
 bog. 
 
 But being high tide they were, after one or two 
 attempts, able to clutch the top edge of the palings with 
 their fingers. 
 
 Here they remained a little while, not daring to move, 
 for fear that if they did, some sound would reach the ears 
 of Wild, and show him where they were. 
 
 With what eagerness they watched their enemies' 
 actions can readily be guessed. 
 
 The light of the torches which they carried made their 
 position continually apparent. 
 
 Once they had a narrow escape of discovery. 
 
 The whole of their attention was rivetted upon Wild in 
 the boat, and they gave no thought of those who had been 
 left to search along the banks. 
 
 A party carrying torches suddenly appeared, and they 
 had only just time to release their hold npon the palings 
 and duck their heads beneath the water, when the glaring 
 light was thrown upon the very spot they had so recently 
 occupied. 
 
 Of course there was now no trace of them to be seen, 
 and having satisfied themselves, the janizaries passed on, 
 having missed their prey by a hair's-breadth. 
 
 They stayed, however, long enough to try the endurance 
 of our friends to the utmost, for they were almost dead for 
 want of air. 
 
 They then resumed their grasp upon the palings, and 
 judging this to be a favourable opportunity, they drew 
 themselves up and over. 
 
 Right glad were they to find themselves once more upou 
 dry ground, and they shook the water from their apparel, 
 »*id felt after all but little the worse for their adventures. 
 
 Jonathan's boat was far out in the stream. 
 
 The men were dispersed along the banks. 
 
 Blueskin gave one glance at the objects wherewith he 
 was surrounded, and then he led Jack forward with con- 
 fidence, for he knew exactly whereabouts he was. 
 
 In a short time they emerged into the Strand, close to 
 the spot where Jonathan's horses were waiting. 
 
 Jack proposed that they should steal a couple of them 
 and make off, but Blueskin overruled him. 
 
 "It will be by far too dangerous," he said. " I want to 
 get Jonathan off our track if I possibly can for a little 
 while, so as to allow us time to breathe, and if we take 
 those cattle, he will be after us like a shot. No, Jack, it 
 won't do, though I should like to spite him, nevertheless, 
 but we shall have plenty of chances of doing so by- 
 and-by." 
 
 " Wh ere are we bound to, now ? " 
 
 " We ought to change our clothes." 
 
 " So we ought ; but where is there a plact> I* " 
 
 " I think 1 can find you one in Seven-dialo." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 The distance from Charing-cross to Seven-dials is not 
 very great, and the two friends made their way towards it 
 at full speed. 
 
 In Little Earl-street, Blueskin stopped before a house, 
 which differed from those adjoining in having no shop 
 window. 
 
 Indeed, it looked like a private house. 
 
 At that hour the street was quite empty. 
 
 The house before which they stopped, like the others, 
 presented no signs of habitation. 
 
 But Blueskin rang a bell, the handle of wbich wat 
 concealed in the door-post, and waited patiently a minute 
 or two for admission. 
 
 " What place is this, Blue ?" 
 
 " A fence." 
 
 " Yes ; I know the man who keeps it." 
 
 "Is he to be trusted?" 
 
 " Fully." 
 
 " That is all right." 
 
 " You have only to tell him ycu are an enemy of Jona- 
 than Wild's." 
 
 "Oh! indeed! Why?" 
 
 " Jonathan had his only son executed about three years 
 ago, and ever since that he has sworn to have his revenge 
 upon him." 
 
 "And he is friends with whosoever io &a onemy to 
 Wild!" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then we shall be bosom friends, I'll sweaT." 
 
 At this moment the door was opened, and a little old 
 man appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 He held a thin candle, or rather rushlight in his hand, 
 and with his other hand he shaded it from the draught. 
 
 This caused nearly the whole of the light to fall upon 
 his shrivelled countenance, which it lighted up with a 
 remarkable distinctness. 
 
 The moment he made his appearance, Blueskin uttered 
 some words in a rapid tone of voice, in a language which 
 Jack did not understand. 
 
 But to the old man they appeared perfectly com- 
 prehensible, for his face brightened, and he stood aside, 
 and held open the door in order to allow them to enter. 
 
 Blueskin stepped over the threshold, and Jack followed 
 him unhesitatingly. 
 
 They halted, however, while the door was fastened, 
 and then the old man preceded them along a passage, 
 which terminated in a small and tolerably well-furnished 
 apartment. 
 
 There was a large fire burning in the grate, and the 
 atmosphere within it was most insufferably hot. 
 
 But our friends were rather glad of this than other- 
 wise, for walking in their wet garments had chilled 
 them. 
 
 " And what do you want with Tumposki ? " asked the 
 old man, as he set the rushlight down upon the table. 
 " Speak ! The poor Jew is always willing to listen to 
 your commands. ' 
 
 " Poor Jew ! " said Blueskin. " Stuff— you know you 
 are about the richest man in your tribe." 
 
 "I? Oh!— oh! Ha!— ha! Very good. I like that 
 Richest man in the tribe. Ha ! — ha ! " 
 
 " Well, never mind your riches, old man. Do yo* 
 the state we are in ? "
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAICS. 
 
 *m 
 
 
 [BLUESKIN and jack siieppard attack the traveller on hampstead-heath.] 
 
 "Yes-yes." 
 
 " We have been pursued, arid all but captured, by 
 Jonathan Wild." 
 
 Jack Sheppard looked closely into the old Jew's 
 shrivelled countenance as Blueskin uttered the name of 
 the thief-taker, in order to see the effect which it produced 
 upon it. 
 
 A scowling frown immediately contracted his br»ws, 
 and his small black eyes glittered brilliantly beneath his 
 jet-black eyebrows. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " he cried, in a screaming voice. 
 " Jonathan Wild ! Murderer! Villain! Perjured monster! 
 But I will have his blood ! I have sworn that I will 
 have his blood, and, by the God of Israel, 1 will keep my 
 oath ! Curses upon his name ! I spit upon it ! " 
 
 The old Jew worked himself up into a state of absolute 
 frenzy while uttering these few words, and the whole of 
 his body participated in his excitement. 
 
 " I have sworn the same oath," said Blueskin, " and I 
 will surely keep it, even if I sacrifice my own life in 
 Inking hii." 
 
 " And I the same," said Jack, "for he bad my father 
 hung at Tyburn." 
 
 "And my son. Wc are destined to be good friends, I 
 see. Give me your band. You hate him because he has 
 deprived you of a father— I because he has deprived me 
 of a son." • 
 
 " We are all three against him, and his overthrow is 
 certain." 
 
 "And immediate," said the Jew, his eyes still glittering 
 with excitement. 
 
 " No, not immediate.'' 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "There are certain things to be done— certain plans to 
 be brought to a successful issue— before ^he can be 
 destroyed. But he lives only at our pleasure." 
 
 " Exactly so," said Jack. " I have taken an oath not 
 only that 1 would compass his death, but that I would 
 bring him to the gallows, at Tyburn. And I will do it, 
 too. He has sworn tho same thing of me, and «ra BhaU 
 eee who keeps hie oath best." 
 
 No. 38 t
 
 
 BLTTESKIN: A ROMANCB. 
 
 "Ami now, Turnposki, we want your assistance. I 
 know you will give it us, will you not ?" 
 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 "That you shall know presently ; bul, first, can not you 
 find us with a bed, and have our clothing dried ? We 
 are most uncomfortable, and are sadly in want of rest. 
 Will you oblige us ? We will tell you our plans after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Yes ; come with me. I can take you to a place 
 where yo'i will be perfectly safe and secure from all 
 discovery You, Mr. Blake, I know; but what is the 
 name of this young man who is with you ?" 
 
 " Sheppard." 
 
 "Jack Sheppard?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Excellent. I am glad to have so bitter n fee of 
 Jonathan Wild's beneath my roof." 
 
 CHAPTER CCVII. 
 
 AARON TUMPOSKI, THE JEW, AFFORDS BLUESKIN AND 
 JACK SHEPPARD MATERIAL AID. 
 
 There was upon the table in tbe centre of the room a 
 curiously-fashioned bell, and as he uttered the words 
 whicb concluded the last chapter, tbe old Jew, who 
 rejoiced in the rather peculiar name of Tumposki, rang it 
 sharply. 
 
 The summons was answered by a woman, who looked 
 as old and as shrivelled-up as himself. 
 
 "Ruth," he said, " take these two gentlemen upstairs, 
 and show them into a bedroom. They are going to 
 sleep here for a few hours. You will also dry their 
 clothes." 
 
 " This way, if you please," said the old woman named 
 Ruth. " You will not require a light — it is already day- 
 break." 
 
 "At 6unset, Aaron," said Blueskin to the old Jew, 
 "we will descend, and talk over this business, which 
 doubtless will turn out to your profit in more ways tban 
 one." 
 
 So saying, he followed Jack and the old woman 
 upstairs into a comfortably furnished apartment, fitted 
 up in an oriental fashion, as a bedroom. 
 
 Here she left them, having first thrown open the 
 shutters, and allowed the early morning's light to enter. 
 
 Both Blueskin and Sheppard were very much fatigued, 
 and no wonder, for the exertions they had been called 
 upon to make were enough to make them. 
 
 The shelter they had so opportunely found was most 
 welcome, and besides which, they had the delightful 
 feeliDg that they were perfectly secure. 
 
 They occupied themselves for some time in talking 
 over the past and speculating upon the future, but at 
 length they dropped off into a sound slumber. 
 
 How long this sleep would have lasted it is hard to say s 
 but at sunset the old Jew tapped at the door, and awoke 
 them. 
 
 Their clothes were well brushed, and clean, and dry, so 
 hastily putting them on, they descended. 
 
 They found the old Jew seated in the same apartment 
 as he was on the preceding evening. 
 
 On the table, however, was spread a substantial and 
 tempting repast, to which he invited them to sit down and 
 do justice to. 
 
 Our friends awoke hungry after their long sleep, and 
 the viands spread out before them seemed appetizing in 
 the extreme, so they at once availed themselves of the 
 Jew's invitation. 
 
 After this meal was despatched, they drew up to the 
 fire and commenced the conversation. 
 
 " Aaron," said Blueskin, " Jack Sheppard and myself 
 have certain plans which we are resolved to carry out, but 
 we cannot do so, mind you, until we possess a tolerably 
 large sum of money." 
 
 Tbe Jew nodded. 
 
 " To obtain this sum of money will be our first care, 
 and I daresay you know bow we shall procure it." 
 
 " Crack a crib ? " 
 
 " No, by high toby." 
 
 '/Well, well?" 
 
 '' We shall run a great risk, of course, for the officers 
 «re out searching for us in every direction, but we do not 
 Kind that." 
 
 " Certainly not ; but what do you want with mo ? " 
 
 " Simplv this : we are quite unprovided with tbe necea» 
 saries requisite for our enterm'ixe, but it is in your power 
 to supply us with them. Will you do so ? " 
 
 The Jew was silent for a moment, and the:*, as if 
 ashamed of his hesitation, which was caused solely by his 
 natural cupidity, he said — 
 
 " I will, and willingly ; bet what shall you de with your 
 swag ? " 
 
 " Bring it to you, of course, my dear Aaron, and we 
 shall trust to you to give us a fair and bberal price for it, 
 for the sooner we can obtain the sum of money we require, 
 the better it will be for us." 
 
 " Very good. You can trust me. Now, when do you 
 intend to start upon your expedition ?" 
 
 " In about two hours' time." 
 
 " So soon ? " 
 
 " Yes. Why not." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know, only I should have thought it 
 would have been most prudent to have waited a little 
 while, so that the officers should have abated their vigi- 
 lance somewhat." 
 
 " Pho ! pho ! We are more likely to succeed to-night 
 than any other; besides, I tell you we are pushed tor 
 time, and wish to amass a certain sum as speedily as 
 possible." 
 
 " Do so, with all my heart." 
 
 " Well, then, I hope we understand each other ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " That is all right, then." 
 
 " What next ? " 
 
 " Nothing, except that we shall want you to equip us." 
 
 "What with?" 
 
 " We are short of everything." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " You know what is required quite as well as we could 
 tell you. Horses, pistols, and ammunition are the most 
 important." 
 
 " Of course they are. You shall have them. I will 
 leave you here, if you like, while I go out to see about 
 them myself. I never like trusting these matters to 
 another." 
 
 " Much the best plan." 
 
 " I have always found it so." 
 
 " Where shall you get the horses f " 
 
 " I don't know yet." 
 
 " Well, don't go to the stables in Long-acre, for I fancy, 
 somehow, the people there are in league with Jonathan 
 Wild." 
 
 "Thanks for that caution. I should very likely have 
 gone there." 
 
 " But you will not now ? " 
 
 " Certainly not, as there is a doubt in the matter." 
 
 With these words, the old Jew took a hat and cloak off 
 a peg, and putting them on, sallied forth upon his 
 errand. 
 
 As soon as the door had closed behind him, Jack said — 
 
 " Do you know much of this Jew ? " 
 
 " Not much." 
 
 " No more than you have told me, I suppoes." 
 
 " No. Why do you ask the questiou ? 
 
 " Do vou think he is to be trusted ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " What makes you suspicious ? " 
 
 " He seems avaricious." 
 
 " All Jews nre." 
 
 " Therefore I should not feel surprised " ■ 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " If he was to sell us to our enemies." 
 
 " No, Jack, I don't think that." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I grant you, that to a Jew money is almost t . . 
 thing, but there is one passioD which will always mak£ 
 avariciousness succumb." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " H&ie, and the determinntion to be revenged." 
 
 " I think I understand you." 
 
 " You do him an injustice, I am sure you do. If ho 
 intended to betray us he has had plenty of chance of 
 doing so ere now, and you may rely upon it he would have 
 embraced the earliest opportunity." 
 
 " So he would." 
 
 "Trust him, Jack. He will be of pBtfi Rl r . v fis» ?*0 39 
 in more ways than one."
 
 BLTJESKTN : A E0MAKC5. 
 
 m 
 
 " He could be if be was faithful." 
 
 " Do not offend him by showing anything like distrust. 
 If all goes as I fancy it will, we shall be able to make 
 sure of a safe refuge and a ready market for whatever 
 booty we may take." 
 
 " I see all that, butit would be vexatious to bei/etrat «1." 
 
 " So it would, and he should pay for his treachery with 
 his life. It should never advantage him any." 
 
 " That it should not." 
 
 " There is no harm, however, in our being upon our 
 guard — indeed, it is no more than we ought to be; bttt do 
 not let him see that you are suspicious." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " He will be back directly, I daresay. Harir ! S cai. 
 hear some one now." ' 
 
 There was a faint tinkling of a bell somewhere, and 
 then a moment after the Jew returned. 
 
 Jack looked narrowly into his countenance, but he 
 could see there no traces of double-dealing. 
 
 He felt more satisfied. 
 
 " I have succeeded beyond my expectation. As I dare 
 say you know,I have within this house everything that you 
 require, with the exception of the horses." 
 
 " I guessed as much." 
 
 " And you guessed rightly. Precisely at half-past nine 
 two horses will be in waiting for you at the corner of 
 Tottenham Court-road." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 " They are first-rate animals, sound of wind and limb, 
 and of extraordinary fleetness ; so that, if you are pursued, 
 you will be able to show your foes a cleau pair of heels." 
 
 " Are the holsters provided with pistols?" 
 
 " Yes ; I have not forgotten that." 
 
 " Very good ; then where are pistols for our pockets, 
 and ammunition to reload them ? " 
 
 " You shall have them at once." 
 
 As he spoke, the Jew went to a kind of cabinet, 
 which stood in a recess in one corner of the room, and 
 opened the two folding-doors. 
 
 A number of small drawers were disclosed, each one 
 having a label, upon which a single word was written 
 in Hebrew. 
 
 One of these drawers he took out, and put down upon 
 the table. 
 
 It contained several small beautifully-made pistols. 
 
 He gave four each to our friends. 
 
 Then restoring the drawer to its place, he pulled forth 
 another, which contained shot and powder flasks. 
 
 " Will you have masks ?" he inquired, when they were 
 supplied with these. 
 
 " You can give us two crape ones ; we will put them in 
 our pockets ; they may, perhaps, be useful." 
 
 " V ery good. Is there anything more ? " 
 
 " I think not. What is the time ? " 
 
 " Nearly a quarter-past nine." 
 
 " It is time we started, then ? " 
 
 " It is. You will find a boy holding the horses, and 
 you have to pronounce to him clearly and distinctly the 
 word ' Sameeb,' and he will deliver them up to you." 
 
 " All right. We will not forget." 
 
 CHAPTER CCVIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD SET OUT FOR HAMPSTEAD 
 HEATH, AND HAVE SOME SERIOUS TALK RESPECTING 
 THEIR AFFAIRS UPON THE WAY. 
 
 The night was profoundly dark, and Jack and Blueskin, 
 as they stood upon the threshold of the Jew's house in 
 Little Earl-street, looked up at the sky with feelings of 
 the utmost satisfaction. 
 
 The night was one most admirably suited to the enter- 
 prize they had in hand. 
 
 The stars twinkled in the sky overhead, but there was 
 no moon. 
 
 After exchanging a few parting words with the Jew. L 
 our two friends mado their way, with a quick step, in' 
 the direction mentioned. 
 
 The hearts of both were bold and light, and Blueskin 
 oaid — 
 
 " Have you found any grounds for suspicion yftt P" 
 
 "None." 
 
 " And I do not think you will. So long, in fact, as you 
 keep faith with him he will keep faith with you, but no 
 longer." 
 
 " He will keep faith for ever, then. But lam not to 
 tell the truth, altogether satisfied though I soon shall be." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " If I find the horses as he has told us, and if we 
 ride away in safety I shall be satisfied. We may even 
 now be walking to our capture." 
 
 "You are full of strange thoughts to-night, Jack." 
 
 " Do you think so ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed." 
 
 " I do not like Jews." 
 
 " That is a very common thing I go noJ, for instance^ 
 but I have faith in this one." 
 
 " So much the better. My tfoubts will soon be either 
 put at rest or else confirmed." 
 
 " That is very true, for here we are." 
 
 They emerged into High-street, St. Giles's, close to the 
 corner of Tottenham Court-road. 
 
 This now busy part was quite dark and deserted. It 
 was at that time not the centre of a J.iisy city, but c, 
 country cross-road. 
 
 The Oxford-read had gardens on either side, and the 
 same may be said of the Tottenham Court-road, except 
 that a few houses were here and there built upon it. 
 
 On reaching the corner, our two friends strained their 
 eyes in a vain endeavour to pierce the obscurity around 
 tbem. 
 
 No signs_ whatever of the two horses could be soon, 
 and Blueskin felt the doubts to which his companiou 
 had given uttterance rise up in his mind. 
 
 He said nothing, however, but crossed over to the 
 particular corner which the Jew had indicated. 
 
 Just as they reached it, they heard the clock in the 
 belfry of St. Giles's Church chime the half-hour, and 
 ere the reverberations of the last stroke had died away, 
 there seemed to grow out of the darkness surrounding 
 them, the dusky figures of two horses. 
 
 In a moment Blueskin pronounced the word the old 
 Jew had enjoined, and it was immediately responded to 
 by the approach of a boy, who held two horses by the 
 bridle, walking between them. 
 
 " All right," said the boy. " It is just the half- 
 hour." 
 
 " It is," replied Blueskin. " You are punctual. Here 
 is half-a-crown for you." 
 
 " Thank you, sir." 
 
 Blueskin and Sheppard mounted. 
 
 " What time shall you come back ? " asked the boy. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I am going to meet you." 
 
 " Where ? " 
 
 "Here." 
 
 "But I have no idea when we shall return." 
 
 " Will it be before daybreak, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly ; but not much before." 
 
 " All right, sir. I will bo here. If you don't see rue, 
 whistle three times. I shall be close at hand." 
 
 " Enough. Are you right, Jack ? " 
 
 " Quite right." 
 
 "Off we go, then." 
 
 At a gentle trot, and yet one that got over the ground 
 quickly, our two friends made their way up the Totten- 
 ham Court-road, in the direction of Hampstead-hcath. 
 
 Nothing was said for some moments. 
 
 Jack Sheppard appeared to be plunged in a profound 
 reverie. 
 
 At length Blueskin broke the silence, which to him 
 was irksome, by saying — 
 
 " What are you thinking about, Jack f m 
 
 He had to repeat his question before his comrade hea^d 
 or understood it. 
 
 " I was thinking about our expedition, Blue." 
 
 " What about it ? " 
 
 " I can hardly tell you." 
 
 " Yet you seemed very deep in thought." 
 
 " I was, for I was trying to review my position.'" 
 
 "What, then?" 
 
 " I was thinking about Edgworth Bets." 
 
 " I could have sworn that." 
 
 "Could you?" 
 
 " I could." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Jack, listen to me." 
 
 " With all my heart." 
 
 " I have many a time toeo going to sav thia to you,
 
 sf)0 
 
 BLV13K! 
 
 I, RCMX.NC3. 
 
 but, somehow or other, I have always hesitated to do 
 
 SO." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " This. We always speak of her and call her by the 
 familiar name of Edgworth Bess, but you know ae well as 
 I do that that is not her title." 
 
 " I do know it. I wish \i was ! " 
 
 "No doubt— no doubt. Well, Jack, I like to cM and 
 think about her by that name, and so we wil! say nothing 
 about that." 
 
 " What is it you do want to say ? " 
 
 " In plain words, Jack, simply this : you love her ?" 
 
 " I confess it." 
 
 " It is not necessary. I have seen it from the first. 
 The circumstances under which you met with her are 
 singular and romantic enough, but still, knowing as you 
 do who she is, you must be aware that it would be dis- 
 honourable upon your part to show her the love you bear 
 her." 
 
 " Blueskin, my friend, I like you all the better for that 
 speech. Believe me, I have never onco forgotten who 
 she is and what I am. There is no need for you to tell 
 me that there is an impassable gulf between us. I know it 
 well enough already." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, both for your sake and her own. 
 As you say, there is indeed an impassable gulf between 
 you. You could never cross it and become what she is, 
 and surely you would not have her sink down to your 
 level?" 
 
 "Never!" 
 
 " I thought not," 
 
 " Blueskin, my friend, I love her ! I acknowledge it to 
 you. I care not who knows it. But I do love, and always 
 shall love her Who could help doing so ? But though I 
 love her, that is no reason why I should tell her so, or 
 seek to win her love in return. I can worship her at a 
 distance, without once entertaining the thought that she 
 could be mine." 
 
 " Jack, if you will take my advice, you will try your 
 best to banish such a feeling from your heart, It will 
 only be productive of unhappiness in the future." 
 
 " No — no ! That is the only thing that makes life seem 
 pleasant and endurable. Were I to discard that dream, I 
 should be the most miserable being on the face of the 
 earth. No, Blueskin, I cannot do that! " 
 
 " Then I am sorry to hear it." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " I cau see mischief and misfortune in the future that 
 will arise from it." 
 
 " Not by my causing." 
 
 « I fear it will follow." 
 
 " You need not be afraid. I have her happiness too 
 much at heart. Curses on the villain, Wild. Were it not 
 for him, our plan of operations would be simple and easy 
 enough." 
 
 " You are right there ; but there is one consolation, 
 his career cannot last much longer — the sum of his 
 iniquity is almost reached." 
 
 " I should have thought it had been reached long 
 since. He has committed more crimes than twenty 
 men." 
 
 " The day of reckoning is not far distant, Jack, but 
 we have wandered away from what we were saying." 
 
 " We have, but it is not necessary to return to it. I 
 fully understand and know all you would say to we, take 
 my word for it." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " That is enough. But surely you cannot have thought 
 that I should be so base as to take advantage of her in 
 such a way. No. Such a course would be worthy only 
 of a villain like Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " But now, Jack, look here. Suppose we should succeed 
 :n restoring Edgworth Bess to her title and estates.* 
 
 " Suppose ? I have determined upon it." 
 
 " Well — well. Let that pass. Supposing we should 
 encceed, and that any circumstances afterwards arose, 
 such as your receiving a pardon, for instance, do you 
 think you would be justified in making her your wife ? " 
 
 Jack hesitated, and was finally silent. 
 
 " I understand your silence, Jack. You would be 
 tempted. Think a little. There is a world— society — in 
 which Edgworth Bess would have to move to maintain 
 her position. Now, do you for a moment imagine that 
 that society would tolerate and recognise you ? No. You 
 
 would be accused of having made use of yonr oppor- 
 tunity to entrap the »f tortious of the heiress, and yon 
 would drag her down to the same level as yourself." 
 
 Jack was still silent. 
 
 Blueskin did not attempt to interrupt him further, but 
 let what he had just said sink deeply into his mind. He 
 judged the lesson necessary, and it was not given a 
 moment too soon. 
 
 At length Jack spoke, and when he did his voice was 
 tinged with a sadness and seriousness which he could not 
 disguise. 
 
 " Blueskin," he said, " you have opened my eyes. I 
 thank you for it. If you will believe me, I desire but one 
 thing, and that is her welfare and happiness. I will try 
 to banish the feeling of love from my heart; but rest 
 assured, let it be how it may, I will never take advantage 
 of her in any way." 
 
 " I can take your word, I know, Jack." 
 
 " You cau." 
 
 " You are all right, after all. And I only hope that we 
 shall be fortunate enough to meet with good luck, and 
 have a profitable night's work." 
 
 " Stop a moment, Blue," said Jack. " That reminds 
 me I was thinking of something else, about which I 
 should like to speak to you." 
 
 CHAPTER CCIX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPl'ARD LAY IN WAIT FOB THE 
 TRAVELLER ON HAMPSTEAD-HEATH. 
 
 "What is it, Jack?" 
 
 " Of course you know what we have agreed to do, and 
 that is to get together a sum of money, and then after- 
 wards to fly from England along with Edgworth Bess, 
 and wait untill she attains her majority." 
 
 " Yes ; that it is the plan, and you agreed to it." 
 
 " I know I did. What I wanted to know was, what 
 sum of money would ho sufficient for our purpose ?" 
 
 " I have hardly given that a thought." 
 
 " But try and form an estimate. How much should you 
 think?" 
 
 " It would not do to run short." 
 
 " Of course not, nor would it do for us to fix upon toe 
 large a sum, and be too long obtaining it." 
 
 " Edgworth Bess is safe." 
 
 " I cannot think her so while she is in the power of 
 Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " Steggs is there watching over her." 
 
 " 1 have no faith in Steggs." 
 
 " Nor in any one else, to-night." 
 
 " Except yourself, my friend." 
 
 " And you have faith in me P " 
 
 " Every faith." 
 
 " There is some consolation in knowing that." 
 
 " I am in earnest when I say it." 
 
 " I know you are, and now as for Steggs." 
 
 " What of him ? " _ 
 
 " I think 30U do him a great injustice." 
 
 " In doubting him ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I do not like the man." 
 
 " Nor did I ; but he has proved himself a friend on so 
 many occasions that I cannot help having confidence in 
 him." 
 
 " Well, perhaps it is not misplaced ; but then, great as 
 is the faith I have in you, I should not feel satisfied if you 
 occupied Steggs's position in Wild's house." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because you would only be singly opposed to Wild, 
 and he is more than a match for two men. While he 
 attempts no harm against her, of course all is well; but 
 should he take it into his head to do eo, what good would 
 Steggs be then ?" 
 
 " Not much, I am afraid." 
 
 " None whatever, and then who can tell what tempting 
 offers Jonathan may hold out to him to induce him to take 
 part against us and her." 
 
 " He might, certainly," said Blueskin, thoughtfully. 
 "Jonathan has a rare knack of bending people to his 
 wishes. I do not feel half so easy in my mind as I did 
 now you have begun to talk." 
 
 " You do not feel so deep an interest in the poor girl m 
 I do." 
 
 " Perhaps not so warm a cow.'*
 
 ■IVE8RIH : i ROMASCB. 
 
 307 
 
 
 "Nor so warm a one. I am glad I have made you 
 uneasy, because I am convinced that slie is not safe where 
 •he is now, and that brings me back to myfir&t question." 
 
 " About the money." 
 
 " Yes ; dismiss from your mind all ideas of amassing a 
 large sum, because it will take too long, and because the 
 risk will be proportionately increased. We must get her 
 away from Wild's house at once." 
 
 " I think it would be best." 
 
 " I am sure of it. Now, you say that in about one 
 year she will be of age. How much will keep her in 
 comfort for that period of time ? Mention the smallest 
 amount." 
 
 " Tou will have many expenses to provide for, such as 
 travelling and such like, which, in foreign countries, you 
 will find very expensive." 
 
 " How much ? " 
 
 " I should think at least five hundred pounds." 
 
 "That is a large sum." 
 
 " It is ; but I do not think you could do with less." 
 
 " I am afraid not. Let us fix that as the amount. We 
 may get it very quickly and we may not ; but the moment 
 we do possess it, let us hasten to set Edgworth Bess at 
 liberty." 
 
 "Agreed." 
 
 " Then we will fly and not return to England until it is 
 out of Wild's power to injure her." 
 
 " Exactly. I am glad you so much like the plan." 
 
 " I do like it, and shall always be grateful to you for 
 devising it." 
 
 " It seems feasible." 
 
 " It does, indeed, seem mors than that ; but we shall 
 find it easier to talk about it thnn to do it." 
 
 " What, now, is the most difficult ? " 
 
 " I can hardly tell ; to me they seem about all equal. 
 Wo shall have a great deal of trouble in getting five 
 hundred pounds, and I caunot see very well how 
 Edgworth Bess is to be got out of Wild's house. Then, 
 as for leaving England, Jonathan will take good care 
 to make that a difficult matter." 
 
 " There are many serious obstacles to be overcome ; 
 but we must not allow ourselves to be daunted by them. 
 More desperate things have been achieved." 
 
 " True. I am glad we have had this bit of conversation, 
 ibr I think we both understand our positions better than 
 we did." 
 
 " I think we do. I can see now that it would have 
 been by far too hazardous to have left Edgworth Bess in 
 Wild's house, in the manner I at first proposed, and the 
 aooner we release her from it the better." 
 
 " I am glad to think I have brought you rouud to such 
 an opinion. At this very moment how can you tell what 
 danger she is threatened with at Wild's hands." 
 
 "Do not speak of it, Jack, I implore you, or you will 
 unnerve me quite. But, see, we have reached our desti- 
 nation. This turning on the right hand will take us 
 direct on to the heath." 
 
 " And do you think we shall find a good booty there ? " 
 
 " Yes. People are obliged to cross it, and often they 
 have large sums in their possession. The beauty of the 
 place is, that there are no houses near, so that the report 
 of a pistol creates no alarm." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " I trust we shall be fortunate to take what wc wRnt in 
 one booty." 
 
 " That is too much to be hoped for, I think." 
 
 " Pho ! — pho ! I have heard of such things." 
 
 " Then I only hope we shall be so lucky, but I confess 
 I have my doubts." 
 
 "It is all luck, Jack— all luck. This way. How 
 confoundedly dark it is. We shall ba upon the middle 
 read directly, where we shall stand the best chance of 
 meeting with people worth stopping." 
 
 " It is fearfully dark, Blue. I cannot tell at all where 
 I am going." 
 
 " The old heath is always darh at night. You must 
 keep me in sight. I know the way well. When we 
 once get upon the hard roadway it will bo all right 
 enough." 
 
 " Go on, ihti, I will follow close after you." 
 , The heath was indeed profoundly dark — much darker 
 than any one can now expect to see it, for not only was it 
 fer away from London, but nearly thrice the size it 
 now is. 
 
 To be sure, there were cottages here aud there, and 
 one or two gentlemen's residences, but at the preseut 
 time this picturesque and romantic spot is almost sur- 
 rounded with dwellings. 
 
 Ilelying upon his intimate knowledge of the spot, 
 Blueskin was leading the way across a narrow footpath 
 which led into the road, which, from the fact of its 
 dividing the heath into two tolerably equal portions, was 
 called the Middle-road. 
 
 This road he reached in perfect safety, and as soon as 
 he emerged upon it, he drew in his steed, and waited for 
 Jack to rejoin him. 
 
 As soon as he did so he said — 
 
 " Come a little further, and I will show you as good a 
 position for attacking a traveller as any knight of the 
 road could wish to have." 
 
 " Whereabouts is it ? " 
 
 "About half-way up a rather steep hilL *i as veiy 
 dark." 
 
 " It can't be much darker than this." 
 
 " Oh ! but it is the banks on both sides that throw a 
 shadow upon it, even in daylight. Being on the hill, you 
 must understand, every one who ascends, by the time he 
 gets half-way, will be going at a slow pace, which will 
 make it all the easier for us to stop him." 
 
 " I see. Is it far from this hill you speak of ? " 
 
 " No. Ouly a few yards. Indeed, I do not know if it 
 does not begin here. However, keep straight on ; you 
 will soon become sensible of the rise." 
 
 Jack soon found this to be perfectly true. 
 
 In a little time he found himself upon rapidly rising 
 ground. 
 
 " Now walk," said Blueskin, " we have plenty of time, 
 and we shall not only better be able to hear if any one is 
 approaching, but if there are any, they will not hear us." 
 
 There was sound sense in this, so Jack immediately 
 reduced his horse's speed to a walk. 
 
 The hill was a very steep one, and after ascending it a 
 certain distance, Blueskin commanded a halt. 
 
 " Here we are now, Jack. The way we have just come 
 is the high-road from London, and it is of course from 
 travellers coming in that direction that we must expect 
 the best booty from. As near as possible, we are half- 
 way up the hill. Don't you find it very dark ? " 
 
 " I do. I can just see you and your horse, and that is 
 all. I believe if I was once to take my eyes off you I 
 should not be able to see you again." 
 
 " That makes it so much the better. Now, listen. Can 
 you hear anything ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Nor can I. However, look carefully to the primings 
 of your pistols, so that they shall not fail you in the 
 moment of need." 
 
 " You mean feel for your priming, for I'll ba hanged if 
 
 you can see 
 
 The clicking of pistol-locks followflll. 
 
 Presently Blueskin asked — 
 
 " Are you all right ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then ride down the hill about twenty paces, and take 
 up your position on this side of the road. Do not move. 
 If a traveller comes let him pass you. I will stop him at 
 the top, and then you ride up and cry, ' Stand !' which will 
 make him think he is surrounded." 
 
 CHAPTER CCX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD COMMIT A DESPKKiTI 
 HIGHWAY ROBBERY ON HAMPSTEAD-HEATH. 
 
 " That is a capital plan, Blueskin. Any one could tell 
 you were not a green hand at this sort of thiug. I quite 
 understand what you mean, and you caa rely upon my 
 carrying out your idea fully." 
 
 " Off you go, then, and get yourself placed before any 
 one comes. You must mind and net do anything to 
 attract their attention, or you will put them on their 
 guard." 
 
 " Trust me fo* that." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack turned his horse's head in th» 
 direction he intended to take, and descended the hill about 
 twenty paces, as his comrade had directed. 
 
 He stopped, and then backed his horse to the side of 
 the road, until the steep furze-grown bank prevented lure 
 going furthor.
 
 m 
 
 blueskin: a rohancb. 
 
 Thus placed, and certainly the positions they had taken 
 up were most admirably suited for their purpose, the two 
 highwaymen waited patiently, listening with the greatest 
 eagerness for any sounds which would indicate a traveller's 
 approach. 
 
 At length their patience was rewarded. 
 
 In the far distance, and at first scarcely distinguishable 
 above the wind, which moaned wailingly over tho rugged 
 surface of the heath, there arose tbs faint tramp-Lag of a 
 horse's feet. 
 
 The sound was heard simultaneously by Jack and Blue- 
 skin, but it would never have reached their ea?s so quickly 
 as it did had not their sense of hearing been stretched to 
 the utmost. 
 
 Blueskin whistled faintly, nnd Jack responded, after 
 which they were both quite silent. 
 
 At rather a shaip trot came on a single horseman. 
 
 They cou*l soon tell that. 
 
 Loudor, and louder, and more distinct became the 
 ■ouuds as he drew nearer. 
 
 That rider little thought as he came along who was 
 lying in wait for him. 
 
 Suddenly, however, he checked his horse's speed, as 
 though in some doubt about the way he ought to take, and 
 this seemed evidenced by the fact that when he started 
 again he came on much more carefully than before. 
 
 Then came the hill, which he ascended at a walk. 
 
 Immovable and silent, the two highwaymen waited for 
 him to approach. 
 
 Seeing his hesitation, the strange idea crossed Jack's 
 mind whether he had not received some admonition of his 
 danger. 
 
 He was neither a stranger to, nor a disbeliever in pre- 
 sentiments, and he much wondered whether that which 
 was about to occur had overshadowed his mind. 
 
 But, let this be as it may, the traveller came slowly up 
 the hill. 
 
 At length he passed Jack, who prepared for action. 
 
 Another moment, and he was near enough for Blueskin's 
 purpose, and he immediately darted out from his place of 
 ambush. 
 
 " Stand ! " he cried, in a voice that King with many a 
 strange echoes over the vast expanse of heath. " Stand. 
 If you advance another step it will be at the peril of your 
 life!" 
 
 These words had due effect and significance upon the 
 traveller, who halted, and, turning round, prepared to flee. 
 
 But Jack emerged from his place of concealment, and 
 accordingly he likewise cried " Stand ! " 
 
 " I am surrounded, then, it seems," said the traveller, 
 in a loud and undaunted voice ; " but I will make a fight 
 of it for all that. Ye villains, I am an honest man, and 
 will not yield that which I have had to labour hard to get 
 without a struggle." 
 
 "You had best make no resistance," said Blueskhi, 
 spurring up to him, and holding one of his bolster-] 
 in his hand. " Give what money you have about you, and 
 pass on ! We do not want to harm you." 
 
 " I will not submit. Take that ! " 
 
 With great suddenness the traveller drew from the 
 breast of his apparel a pistol, and fired it full at Blueskin. 
 
 For a moment the latter believed he was shot, but ere 
 he could recover himself, Jack Sheppard rode close up to 
 the traveller's side, and seized his arm. 
 
 But only just in time. 
 
 The traveller had drawn a second pistol, and waa in the 
 ▼ery act of drawing the trigger when Jack seized him, aud 
 the position of his arm being altered, the pistol was dis- 
 charged in the air. 
 
 Jack had a pistol in his other hand, and pressing it 
 against the traveller, was about to fire, to avenge, as he 
 thought, his comrade's death, when B'.Ueskin, hr.ving 
 recovered himself, grasped one of his pistols by the barrel, 
 and struck the traveller a violent blow upon tba head with 
 the butt-end of it. 
 
 He fell to the ground in a moment, like a heavy uiass 
 of inert matter, while the horse, giving one plunge, darted 
 off at full gallop down the hill towards London before 
 either Jack or Blueskin could prevent it. 
 
 " Curse it all ! " exclaimed the latter, in an angry voice, 
 "this is doomed to be an unfortunate affair niter all. 
 That horse will surely be stopped by somebody before 
 long, and then, of course, they will know what is the 
 mattei." 
 
 " Let us make haste, then," said Jack. " Wo will rifle 
 his pockets aud oegGne." 
 
 "Confound him! I never thought he would have 
 been so desperate and handy with his firearms. What a 
 fool the man must be to peril his life for a few paltry 
 guineas ! " 
 
 The two highwaymen dismounted, and Blueskin stooped 
 over the traveller, while Jack held the horses, whom the 
 firing had rendered very restive. 
 
 A faint groan from the wounded man came to Blueskin's 
 ears as he stooped over him ; but not heedine it, he com- 
 menced rifling his pockets. 
 
 He found very little to reward him for his trouble. 
 
 There was a bag of money, but no very great amount 
 he could tell by the weight, even supposing it to be gold, 
 when it was just as likely to be silver. 
 
 The: e was a watch with its appeudages, and a few other 
 personal ornaments of little value, which he took, and 
 that was all. 
 
 While engaged in making a second aud more rigorous 
 search, he heard the loud tramp of many horses' feet, 
 while at the same moment Jack Sheppard called out, in a 
 voice of alarm — 
 
 "Enemies, Jack !" said Blueskin. "Enemies! I have 
 got all there is to take, jlouut as quick as you can, and 
 follow me." 
 
 Just as ho spoke, there was a bright flash in the dark- 
 ness, succeeded by the report of a pistol, but the person 
 who fired it was too far off for it to do them any injury. 
 
 Still it warned them to be speedy, and showed them 
 that they had enemies in their rear, and who were in good 
 earnest bent upon their capture. 
 
 The two highwaymen, however, sprang lightly and 
 quickly into their saddles, and Blueskin set the example of 
 going at full speed up the hill. 
 
 Jack Sheppard kept him in view, and followed hard 
 upon his heels, but we must leave them for a little while, 
 so that we can turn our attention to their pursuers, and 
 relate who they were, and how it was they came to be so 
 quickly upon their track. 
 
 To do this, it will be necessary to go back to the pro- 
 ceedings of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The reader will, without doubt, remember that the 
 last we saw of him was in company with Lord Donmull, 
 who he had promised to take to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 But, instead of going upstairs to that bedroom on the 
 second floor, we have seen how he led his dupe, for such 
 the nobleman to all intents and purposes was, downstairs 
 into the hall, and thence through the ofteu-described iron 
 grating leading down to the subterranean prison beneath 
 his house. 
 
 What was his purpose will be quickly seen. 
 
 Upon reaching the bottom of the flight of stone steps, 
 they paused for a moment in that gloomy corridor from 
 which the cells on both sides opened. 
 
 It was dimly lighted was this corridor by an oil lamp, 
 which hung from the ceiling and cast a flickering and un- 
 certain radiance around it. 
 
 A cold air was in the place, and his lordship involuntarily 
 let his teeth chatter. 
 
 " What place is this, Wild ? " he asked, and net without 
 some trepidation in the tone in which he spoke. " What 
 place is this ? " 
 
 " A part of my mansion, your lordship, and where I 
 keep some of my most valuable possessions." 
 
 " But it is like a jail ! " 
 
 " You can give it that name if you think proper. I 
 have got a name for it myself." 
 
 '•What is that?" 
 
 " Little Newgate." 
 
 " Little Newgate ! " repeated bis lordship, musingly, 
 " that is a strange name." 
 
 " Wh} T so, my lord ? " 
 
 " I don't know— it seems strange. But let us go away 
 from here ; the air is cold, and I can feel it cold about my 
 heart." 
 
 " Do you forget your errand ? " 
 
 " No ; but surely, Wild— surely you do not mean to say 
 that — that" 
 
 " That what, my lord ? " 
 
 " That you have immured that peor delioate girl in such 
 a place as this ? " 
 
 Jonathan Wild made an impellent and aflirnusliv* 
 gesture as hs replied—
 
 BLTJESKTN: A E01UXCE. 
 
 303 
 
 "You must not be too * passionate. But come, it is 
 •old standing here at the bottom of these steps, 1 feel 
 filled myself." 
 
 " Where would you take me ! " 
 
 " Not much further. You seem strangely nrogiHing — 
 bow, I thought you were anxious to see this gfcrl. u 
 
 " I am — I am." 
 
 " Come this way, then ; but let me ask you, for the last 
 lime, what are your intentions in this matter r " 
 
 " I have already told them to you." 
 
 * But has your mind undergone any change ? " 
 
 " No ; I am tired of this existence. Now I possess 
 them, the wealth and rank which I once so much osoveted 
 pall upon me. Show me the trut> heiress, Jonathan 
 Wild ! — leave me alone with her. If she is willing to 
 look over what I have done, I will, without loss of time, 
 place her in a position as proud as any in this land. Show 
 her to me, Wild ; show her to me, in order that I can 
 make this offer, which I ought to have done long, long 
 ago, and then much misery would have been spared to 
 me ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CCXI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD DISPOSES OF LORD DONMULL. 
 
 Jonathan Wild distorted his lips into a derisive grin, as 
 Lord Donmull thus spoke, while he half muttered — 
 
 " He is a fool — au ass, and fully deserves the fate to 
 which I would predoom him ; and so, with his mawkish 
 sentimentality, he would ruin and overthrow all those 
 glorious plans for my own aggrandizement which I had 
 formed. Never ! — never ! If I take it in time, it is yet 
 in my power to prevent that, at any rate." 
 
 " What do you say ? " asked Lord Donmujl, who could 
 tell his companion was saying something, though he 
 could not catch the import of his words. " What do you 
 say ? " 
 
 " Nothing, my lord — nothing. I was only sorry to 
 find your lordship so despoudent. Cheer up, my lord. 
 Recollect what an important step it is which 3011 are 
 going to take. When it is once done, there is no un- 
 doing it." 
 
 " So much the better, Wild, so much the better. As for 
 the reward I offered you, I consider you have fully earned 
 it, and I will pay you just the same as if things had 
 turned out as I at first intended. Make your mind easy 
 about that, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Very good, your lordship. lam here at your com- 
 mands. If it is still your desire to see your niece, and 
 offer her reparation, follow me, and I will lead you to 
 where she is." 
 
 " Lead on then, Wild, and quickly. I am impatient to 
 see her. Lead on. Oh ! this place. To think that you 
 could have placed such a one as she is in this noisome 
 prison-house." 
 
 Jonathan Wild took no notice of this last remark, but 
 convinced in his mind that Lord Donmull was incorrigible, 
 he led the way along the gloomy corridor. 
 
 At the last door on the right-hand side he paused. 
 
 Lord Donmull paused beside him. 
 
 Where they stood was in semi -darkness. 
 
 The oil lamp did not send forth a sufficient light to 
 disperse the darkness which hung about that spot. 
 
 How dark must the interior of that cell be which, as 
 the reader knows, received the whole of its illumination 
 and fresh air through the small opening above the door. 
 
 With great deliberation, Jonathan took a key from his 
 pocket. 
 
 Standing in the obscurity which we have described, his 
 lordship could not perceive tli6 hideous expression upon 
 the thief-taker's countenance. 
 
 But if he could have seen it, how. his heart Trould have 
 been dismayed. 
 
 He, however, had no warning. 
 
 Jonathan Wild thrust the key into the lock. 
 
 He had to apply both his hands before he could tarn it 
 in its rusty wards, but at length it gave way. 
 
 Then he pushed the door a little way open upon its 
 hinges. 
 
 " Walk in, my lord. You will find her thero, #alk 
 
 12. 
 
 'But the place is dark." 
 
 " You will find it all right when vou get inside/' 
 "But. Wild" 
 
 Jonathan's eyes gleamed. 
 
 His lordship saw the ominous brightness, «v«n in the 
 dark. 
 
 " Go in, my lord," he said again, seeing that his 
 companion hesitated. " Go in, I say. You will find 
 there all that you can possibly want." 
 
 But his lordship still lingered. 
 
 Suspicion that all was not right flashed upon his mind, 
 and instead of advancing, as the thief-taker directed, he 
 drew back. 
 
 " Have you determined to alter your mind, my lord, 
 that, even at the last moment, you retract. Do not, I 
 beg, be so vacillating. Will you see her, or will you 
 not ? " 
 
 "Where is she?" 
 
 " In there." 
 
 " Let her come here to me." 
 
 " Impossible. Enter. It can do no harm to speak to 
 her, at any rate." 
 
 " I do not like the place — I do not like tho place." 
 
 " Pho— pho ; you will find it all right when you get 
 inside. Enter, I tell you." 
 
 " No — no. I cannot — dare not— go in." 
 
 His lordship shrunk still further back a3 he spoke. 
 
 Jonathan Wild glared at him like a tiger. 
 
 " Cannot — dare not. Tush ! tush ! my lord. I'll make 
 you ■' " 
 
 These last words were uttered with sudden vehemence, 
 and darting forward, the thief-taker caught hold of the 
 nobleman by his throat. 
 
 A faint shriek for aid was uttered, but it died away 
 almost instantly. 
 
 " I have had enough of this," said Jonathan, in a voice 
 of suppressed and concentrated passion. " I have had 
 enough ! Do you think I am a fool, to be played upon 
 by your pusillanimous fears ? No, they last no longer ! 
 This way ! I will provide you with board and lodging 
 for a time. Perhaps, when you show yourself more sensible, 
 I will release you." 
 
 Lord Donmull struggled desperatelv. 
 
 But in the hands of Jonathan Wild, much as that 
 worthy's strength had been diminished, he was as a 
 child, and as little capable of making effectual resistance. 
 
 Grappling with him, Jonathan forced him to the ground, 
 then dragged him along the stone pavement, in the 
 direction of the open cell. 
 
 Slowly but surely he dragged him to this place, until at 
 length, having got him upon the threshold, and summon- 
 ing all his strength to his aid, he fairly lifted him, and 
 flung him into the cell. 
 
 His lordship reached the ground with a sickening 
 crash ; but before he could recover himself enough to 
 shriek out or move, Jonathan banged the door after him, 
 and turned the key in the lock. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " he said, as he took his way along the cor- 
 ridor in the direction of the stone steps leading to the 
 grating, " there is one fool disposed of who, if I would 
 have allowed it, would have ruined all my plans. Curse 
 him ! But never mind ; he is done with now. I must 
 bring affairs to a crisis, however. It will not do to dally 
 longer. Curse the girl! if she was but twelve months 
 older than she is, all would be easy and straightforward. 
 But it is uc use to wish that ; it is one of the things that 
 cannot be altered. I must wait — I must wait." 
 
 By the time he had reached this point in his reflections, 
 Jonathan reached the flight of steps. 
 
 The man at the grating, seeing him approach, opened it, 
 and allowed him to pass through. 
 
 As he closed the iron door behind him, Wild said— 
 
 " Jenkinson." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " When you feed the prisoners pleasa to recollect that 
 there 13 a fresh one in C. 10." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild. I will attend to it, sir." 
 
 Jonathan strode on. 
 
 He came to the door of the office, and here he entered. 
 
 He glanced at his watch as he did so, and saw that it 
 was two o'clock. 
 
 " I am neglecting my private business shamefully, he 
 said : " but never mind, I am independent of it any day. 
 How hungry I feel ! What an intolerable nuisance it is 
 that we should have to sleep and eat ! How much mora 
 could be performed ! Why, most of us, if we live fort/ 
 years, spend twenty-five of them in sleep I
 
 304 
 
 BLUESKIN : A EOMANCB. 
 
 Musing thus, Jonathan went out iuto hall ngtiia. 
 
 Quilt Arnold was standing there. 
 Has anyone else been, Quilt P " 
 
 " No one important, eir." 
 
 " Good. Have you heard anything of Jack Sheppard ? " 
 
 "Nothing, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Curse him ! But let him go on, I asa em* to lai'/e 
 him in the end." 
 
 " Of conrse you are, sir." 
 
 " I am going round the corner to get something to eat, 
 80, if any one cornes, you will know where to find me." 
 
 Jonathan did not wait for any reply, but strcde out of 
 the front door. 
 
 Crossing over the road, he turned the corner of Gilt- 
 epur-street, and entering the eating-house where he 
 usually took his meals, he sat down and ate a hearty meal, 
 enough to last him for twelve hours at least. 
 
 Then he returned home, 
 
 "Quilt," he said; "to-night, between nine and half- 
 past, have a troop of a dozen men, ail well mounted and 
 armed, at the door. I shall start at that hour with them 
 to search the highroads round London for Blueskiu and 
 Jack Sheppard. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Quito, Mr. Wild, and you may rely unoa it) baing 
 done." 
 
 " That is enough ; see to it." 
 
 " Shall I provide a horse for you F " 
 
 " Yes, let it be a good, sound, strong one, capab.-o of 
 enduring a little fatigue. While I am gone you mvst 
 take charge of the house." 
 
 " Very good, sir." 
 
 " I have been knocked about a great deal lat«ly, an i 
 don't feel altogether so strong and well as I ought. 1 
 fancy it is sleep I require, so I shall go up stairs and lie 
 down till then, so do not let me be disturbed by any 
 one, but, if I should not be down at nine, call me." 
 
 " You may rely upon all your commands being properly 
 obeyed, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan ascended the stairs. 
 
 But, before he entered his own sleeping chamber, he 
 went up to the second-floor landing, where he found Stegga 
 sitting at his post. 
 
 " Is all well ? " he asked. 
 
 " Quite, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " That is right. Be watchful and faithful." 
 
 " There's nothing at all happened." 
 
 " It is very strange," muttered Wild, as he descended 
 the stairs, " very strange. I cannot make out Mary's 
 death at all. Confound her, too, her dead body must be 
 somewhere in the house. It must be disposed of. I have 
 been in a whirl ever since Jack Sheppard escaped from 
 Newgate, and I have forgotten all about it. I must not 
 neglect that longer than to-morrow. She must be buried, 
 at any rate, but I would freely give a hundred pounds 
 this moment if I knew how she had come by her death." 
 
 Thus speaking, Jonathan went into his room, and 
 threw himself down on the bed, and was soon deep in 
 sleep. 
 
 Edgwortb Bees was safe yet. 
 
 it when I come bock, and I will tet 
 
 CHAPTER CCXII. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK. SHEPPARD ARE CHA8ED ACK0S9 
 HAMPSTEAD-HEATH BY JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Jonathan Wild awoke with the sounds of soi»s a'tock 
 striking the hour of nine in his ears. 
 
 He leaped to his feet instantly. 
 
 On the stairs he met Quilt, who was coming wp to call 
 him. 
 
 "Is all ready?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan could not get the thoughts of Li* quondam 
 wife out of his head, 60 he said — 
 
 " Quilt." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " When— when Mary Milliner was ki'hjd, what bwame 
 of her body ? " 
 
 " It was put back into her room." 
 
 " And is it there now ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " That should not have been. 8Le ought to have been 
 attended to before now." 
 
 " What will you have done with hgv f " 
 
 u Buried, of course." 
 
 " Where, sir." 
 " ltt'iiiiiul mo c 
 what is to he done 
 "All right, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jonathan passed out of the front door. 
 
 Thirteen powerful horses stood in the street. 
 
 Twelve of them carried Wild's janiaaries upon their 
 backs. 
 
 The thirteenth was set aside for him. 
 
 The long sleep he had had, had douo wonders in 
 refreshing him. 
 
 He felt almost like himself again as going down the 
 steps he mounted his horse. 
 
 He was well armed, and his men also, 
 
 Which way to look for those he so wished to capture he 
 had d o idea. 
 
 He would have to trust to his luck entirely. 
 
 What his determination was is easily explained. 
 
 Beginning with that movement, he bad made up his 
 mind to patrol the various highways leading from London 
 every night until he learned something of them. 
 
 He had plenty of ways to choose. 
 
 There was the North-road — the West-road— the Edg- 
 ware-road — the Dover-road. 
 
 But after a moment's deliberation he determined to 
 take neither of these, but go in the direction of Hamp- 
 &tead. 
 
 No sooner had he come to this decision than he gave 
 his men the order to move forward. 
 
 He led the w r ay down Snow-hill and over the bridge, 
 across the Fleet-ditch, and up the steep ascent of Holborn- 
 hill. 
 
 Then turning to his right, up Grays Inn-lane, he made 
 his way in an almost direct line to the place he wished to 
 Teach. 
 
 From what we have related, the reader must be aware 
 that Jonathan Wild must have reached the heath at about 
 the same time as Blueskin and Jack Sheppard — neither 
 of whom for a moment thought their enemy was so 
 near. 
 
 But such strange coincidences will at times occur. 
 
 The only difference was, that the two highwaymen and 
 the thief-taker reached the heath from two different 
 points. 
 
 It was Jonathan and his party who had arrived so 
 suddenly and unexpectedly upon the spot where the 
 encounter with the traveller took place, and the thief- 
 taker guessed in a moment who the robbers were. 
 
 Accordingly, he fired his pistol, though he might have 
 known that he was too far off to do them any harm. 
 
 He stuck his spurs into his steed, however, and pursued 
 our friends vigorously. 
 
 The steep hill tried the horses greatly. 
 
 But on reaching the top of it they loosed their reins, and 
 truck the horses sharply. 
 
 They went down at a fearful speed. 
 
 Jonathan Wild knew the traveller must be on the road- 
 way somewhere, for he had met his horse, and he had the 
 conviction on his own mind that those who were flying on 
 the road before him were no other than those wh:>se 
 capture he so earnestly wished to accomplish. 
 
 The grounds he had for coming to thia conclusion were 
 not very definite. 
 
 Still the idea was hanging in his mind that they were 
 most likely to be found upon the highway. 
 
 He knew they had no means of subsistence, and that 
 they must live. 
 
 The readiest means, he argued, that would occur to 
 them to get what they required, would be going on the 
 highway. 
 
 A desperate robbery had been committed. 
 
 He had arrived just a little too late upon the soene of 
 action. 
 
 He coald tell, however, by the regular beat or the 
 horses' hoofs, that there were two persons on the road 
 before him, and thus strengthened him in his notion that 
 they were Blueskin and Jack Sheppard. 
 
 That he was quite correct in this chance supposition the 
 the reader does not require to be told. 
 
 He plunged his spur deeply into his horse's sides — 
 so deeply that the poor animal would bound for- 
 ward as if mad, and utter occasionally sharp cries of 
 puiu. 
 
 At the top of his voice he called out to bis men v oi!'biitt£
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 305 , 
 
 
 [the meeting of jack sheppard AND EDGWORTH BESS.] 
 
 them every possible inducement he could think of to press 
 forward in the pursuit. 
 
 Thej- tore over the rough uneven ground of the heath 
 with a speed that was really terrific. 
 
 On their parts, although they were not able to account 
 for his presence there just then, Blueskin and Jack 
 Sheppard both felt sure that those who were behind them 
 were headed by their implacable and invincible enemy, 
 Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He was fairly on their track now, and their position was 
 critical. 
 
 His skill in hunting down any one had been remarkably 
 proved more than once, and, therefore, Blueskin felt that 
 the only means by which they could escape him would be 
 by the adoption of some stratagem. 
 
 Casting his eyes, therefore, around him, he strove to 
 pierce the darkness, and ascertain their precise where- 
 abouts. 
 
 For a little while he was unable to do this, for what 
 with going at the speed he did, and then the darkness 
 
 of the night, it was next to impossible for him to say 
 where he was. 
 
 But continuing his efforts, he at length became sensible 
 that he had left the heath behind, and was pursuing a 
 westerly direction. 
 
 If he continued this, he knew that ere Ion,;? he must 
 emerge upon the Edgware-road, somewhere in the vicinity 
 of Kilburn, which was then a tiny village some miles 
 distant from London. 
 
 Having made this discovery, he communicated it to 
 Jack, who had some difficulty in understanding what 
 he said, owing to the wind carrying his words away as he 
 uttered them. 
 
 In the rear they could hear the dull muffled tramp of 
 their pursuers. 
 
 " It will not do to keep up like this," said Blueskin. 
 " J£ we do, Jonathan will hunt us down as sure as fate. I 
 know him of old. Once upon our track, like he is 
 now, he will continue it like a bloodhound until he 
 runs us to cover." 
 
 No, 39.
 
 But what are we to do ? " 
 
 " I have been trying to think of a scheme to elude him 
 for the last few minutes." 
 
 " Have you hit upon one P " 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Try." 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Did you think of one at all P " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What is it, then ? Let us hear it." 
 
 " It is so simple a one that I am afraid Jonathan will 
 not be imposed upon by it." 
 
 " Tell it to me." 
 
 " I thought this. Suppose we were to release our feet 
 from the stirrups, and having got the horses up to a good 
 speed, slip off their backs, and let them go down the road 
 without us." 
 
 " Capital." 
 
 " It is a stale dodge, Jack, and one that Wild is well up 
 to. If we were to slacken our speed, or stop to get off, he 
 would know what we were doing as well as possible." 
 
 " Never mind. Get up a good speed, and then slip off. 
 If our feet are free from the stirrups we can't hurt 
 ourselves much But then what are we to do ? " 
 
 " We might hide behind this hedge until Jonathan and 
 his crew went past." 
 
 " So we might ; but look here, Blue, a better thought 
 strikes me." 
 
 " Be quick, and tell it, then, Jonathan is gaining upon 
 us rapidly." 
 
 " Suppose, instead of hiding behind the hedge, where 
 Wild might perhaps find us, we were to climb up oue of 
 these trees that go all along the road ? They are leafy 
 ones, and the branches grow low, so that we shall have no 
 difficulty in getting one and should be up in a trice." 
 
 " So we should, Jack. I like that idea vastly. If we 
 can only slip off ! " 
 
 " We shall have to be very quick in our movements." 
 
 "We shall." 
 
 " And be careful bow we slip off, for if we either of us 
 got stunned it would be a case with us." 
 
 " We must take care. Are you ready p " 
 
 " Yes. But, Blue." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " How about the horses ? " 
 
 " Never mind them." 
 
 ■« What will the old Jew say ? " 
 
 " We must make matters right with him. Never mind 
 the horses j let them go where they like. Are you quite 
 ready ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Off with you, then." 
 
 Even as he spoke, Blueskin, who had quite freed his 
 feet from the stirrups as he proceeded, put his very peri- 
 lous manoeuvre into execution. 
 
 But in spite of the care he took to prevent such a re- 
 sult, he fell heavily to the ground. 
 
 His horse, however, never stopped a moment, and half 
 terrified by what had occurred, went much faster down 
 the lane. 
 
 Jack had fallen, too, and rolled over and over upon the 
 roadway, but it would seem that, being the lightest, he 
 had sustained the least injury, for he was the first to gain 
 his feet. 
 
 The horses were already a good way off, while the 
 sounds of their pursuers became uncomfortably distinct. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXIII. 
 
 OUR FRIENDS FIND THEIR SCHEME SUCCEED TO ADMIRA- 
 TION. 
 
 Thb first thing, however, that Jack did was to look around 
 him for his comrade. 
 
 He found him extended upon the ground, not exhibiting 
 the least signs of life or motion. 
 
 With the dread at his heart that what they had talked 
 about had occurred — namely, that Blueskin had been 
 stunned by the fall, Jack made his way towards him. 
 
 Their position seemed now to be most perilous. 
 
 Had they taken the pains they had only to accomplish 
 their own capture P 
 
 In a few minutes Jonathan would be upon them. 
 
 Jaok stooped down. 
 
 To his infinite relief, the moment he did so Blueskin 
 spoke. 
 
 " Help me up, Jack. I am hurt a little, but not much. 
 I shall be all right again in a minute." 
 
 These were cheering words, so Jack hastened to raise 
 him to his feet, and when that was done Blueskin 
 pronounced himself to be wonderfully better. 
 
 " Quick, then, as you value your life. I question now 
 whether we shall be able to climb before Wild is upon us." 
 
 " Take it easy, Jack. He is some distance off yet — 
 further than I expected, a great deal. He must have 
 halted for something, or else we gained upon him 
 surprisingly during the last few minutes." 
 
 " So much the better, then, for us," said Jack. " Now, 
 are you better P " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, much better." 
 
 "Well," then, look before you." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Can you see that tree ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Take that one. It is easiest to climb. You see the 
 lowest branch is within reach of vour hand." 
 
 "All right, Jack." 
 
 " I will take the one next to it. Quick ! Blue — quick ! " 
 
 With a good deal of uneasiness, Jack saw that his 
 comrade had been much bruised and shaken by his fall, 
 and now he only seemed partially conscious of what he 
 was about. 
 
 However, he went straight to the tree, and when he 
 reached it, a fresh accession of vigour seemed to come 
 over him, and, seizing the lowest branch with both hands, 
 he mounted rapidly. 
 
 Seeing this, Jack prepared to mount himself, but did 
 not commence until his friend was fairly hidden among 
 the foliage. 
 
 Lithe and agile as Sheppard was, the feat of climbing a 
 tree was the simplest thing possible to him. 
 
 He was up among the branches ia a "moment. 
 
 His first act was to speak in a low tone of voice to his 
 companion. 
 
 "Blue- Blue." 
 
 " Yes, Jack." 
 
 " Are you safe P " 
 
 "Quite." 
 
 " Keep still." 
 
 " Do not fear." 
 
 " Are you much hurt ? " 
 
 " No. Scarcely at all." 
 
 " I am glad of that." 
 
 " I was half-stunned for the moment, but I have quite 
 got over that now." 
 
 " Hush ! Jonathan comes." 
 
 " He does. Do not speak again." 
 
 " Nor move, for the least rustle might betray us." 
 
 There was not a movement — there was not a whisper 
 after this was said. 
 
 Breathlessly and eagerly they awaited the approach of 
 their indomitable foe. 
 
 Was their stratagem to be successful ? 
 
 We shall soon see. 
 
 On came Wild and his men. 
 
 Their speed was a rapid one. 
 v Blueskin and Jack were, however, quite right in 
 supposing that he had paused. 
 
 It was only for a moment or two, though. 
 
 While in full pursuit off the heath Jonathan felt certain 
 that they would adopt some cunning stratagem to get out 
 of his way. 
 
 He never for a moment anticipated he should have the 
 least chance of running them down. 
 
 When the thought occurred to him, the first thing 
 he did was to cast about him, and, by imagining 
 himself in their position, think what would be the 
 likeliest thing to be done. 
 
 There was the old dodge of sending the horses on 
 and hiding in the hedge. 
 
 They might try to adopt that. 
 If they did, he could easily discover them. 
 Accordingly he halted, and called his men around 
 him. 
 
 " I think it very likely," he said, " that Blueskin and 
 Jack Sheppard, who are on the road before us, will try 
 some scheme for eluding us. For instance, they might 
 dismount, and send their horses riderless at full gahop
 
 BLUESKIN: A. ROMANCE. 
 
 S07 
 
 down the lane, while in the meantime they hide in 
 the hedge. But we can prevent them escaping us hy 
 any sueh means as that if you will attend to what I 
 say." 
 
 The men gathered eagerly around him. 
 
 The large reward he had offered, and the vexation they 
 felt at the two fugitives having so often slipped through 
 their fingers, made them exceedingly desirous of their 
 capture. 
 
 " I shall want four of you to separate from the main 
 body and go on the other side of the hedge — two on one 
 side of tbe road and two on the other. You will be 
 able to make your way over the meadows easily enough, 
 and mind you keep as close to the hedge row as you can, 
 so that, if they are hiding there, they will be sure to be 
 discovered. Quick, now ; two on each side." 
 
 The men understood him in a moment, and saw how 
 admirably the scheme was calculated to effect the end 
 proposed. 
 
 With all speed, therefore, two men got through the 
 hedge on the right-hand side of tbe road and two on the 
 left. There seemed nothing but meadows for a con- 
 siderable distance, so their progress would be easy 
 enough. 
 
 Seeing all was ready, Jonathan gave the order to move 
 forward. 
 
 Those behind the hedge, of course, had to keep pace 
 with the others, and they found this to be rather 
 hazardous work. 
 
 Still they went on without the occurrence of any 
 accident. 
 
 From this it is certain that if our friends had simply 
 hidden in the hedge, as Blueskin had proposed, they 
 would most unquestionably have been discovered. 
 
 Tbeir safety, then, was attributable to Jaek, who had 
 proposed the amendment on the original plan of climbing 
 up the tree. 
 
 Jonathan Wild came to the spot where they were 
 hidden. 
 
 So absorbed were our two friends in listening to his 
 approach by tbe roadway, that the first intimation they 
 had of the men being in the meadows was when they 
 rode exactly beneath the trees in which they were con- 
 cealed. 
 
 Of course they made no discovery of them, and the 
 whole troop went on their way down the lane. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin did not venture either to move or 
 to speak until some few moments after they were both 
 out of sight and hearing. 
 
 Seeing this little bit of policy on Jonathan's part, they 
 could not tell how far his cunning might extend. 
 
 Then they thought, reasonably enough, that there 
 might be some more to bring up the rear. 
 
 But in this expectation they were disappointed. 
 
 All sounds, save those slight uncertain ones which are 
 always to be heard at night, died away. 
 
 Then Blueskin ventured to speak. 
 
 But it was in a very low tone of voice. 
 
 " Jack, Jack." 
 
 " Yes, Blue." 
 
 " Do you hear me ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Do not speak any louder than you are obliged." 
 
 " The coast seems quite clear." 
 
 " I know it. But then " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Hark ! " 
 
 " I hear nothing." 
 
 " No, it's all right, I fancied I did." 
 
 " Will you descend ? " 
 
 "Not just yet." 
 
 " Wild has gone." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that." 
 
 " Did you notice these men who came behind the 
 hedge ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "That was a close touch." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 " Do you see his cleverness ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "He had got the idea in his head that we intended to 
 trick him." 
 
 " And we have done 60." 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Why perhaps ? " 
 
 " His men may not have all gone by. They might be 
 lurking somewhere close at hand, and would pounce upon 
 us tbe moment we got to the ground." 
 
 " How shall we ascertain that? " 
 
 " By waiting here a little while." 
 
 " It will be best not to talk, then ? " 
 
 " It will." 
 
 " Then I am silent ; but say when you think we have 
 waited long enough." 
 
 " I will tell you when I think it is safe." 
 
 " Very well. I leave it all to you, because I think you 
 know Wild and his ways better than I do." 
 
 Blueskin did not seem to think it worth while to make 
 any reply to this speech. 
 
 He remained silent, and listening for any little sound 
 that might indicate the presence of his foes. 
 
 Half an hour, perhaps rather more, elapsed. 
 
 During that time no sound had occurred that seemed at 
 all of a suspicious character. 
 
 Feeling by that time tolerably secure he was about to 
 call out to Jack to descend, when the faint tramp, tramp 
 of horses' feet struck upon his ear. 
 
 He became still again instantly. 
 
 The sounds rapidly increased in loudness. 
 
 Jack heard them, too, but he neither moved nor spoke. 
 
 At first it was difficult to say what the sounds meant, 
 but in a little while they both came to the conclusion 
 that it was Wild and his party returning. 
 
 The horsemen, be they whom they might, were cer- 
 tainly coming from the direction in which Wild had gone 
 a little while back. 
 
 On they came at an easy pace. 
 
 Suddenly, however, when the whole party was on a 
 level with the trees in which our friends were concealed, 
 a voice cried out in a loud tone — 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 The order was obeyed with military promptitude. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN AGREE TO ROB WILD'S 
 WAREHOUSE AT WESTMINSTER. 
 
 If there had been any doubts in the minds of Blueskin 
 and Jack Sheppard as to who the horsemen were, the 
 sound of the voice which pronounced the word " Halt ! " 
 would have dispelled them. 
 
 There was no other human being than Jonathan Wild 
 who possessed such a voice. 
 
 The very natural apprehension filled the breasts of both 
 the fugitives that Jonathan's motive for halting just there 
 was because in some mysterious and incomprehensible 
 manner he had been made acquainted with their hiding- 
 place. 
 
 But they were wrong in that supposition. 
 
 Jonathan's halting there was a mere matter of chance, 
 and tbe same thing might have happened a hundred yards 
 further up the lane. 
 
 After giving the word to halt, the first thing that Wild 
 did was to pour out a volley of curses of the most awful 
 description, which were chiefly levelled at our two friends. 
 
 But having expended his wrath in this manner, Jonathan 
 grew calmer. 
 
 " They have bilked us again, by all that's holy ! " he 
 said. " I do begin to believe that they have got the devil 
 in league with them to aid them, or how could they have 
 disappeared ? Keep a sharp look all around you, my men, 
 and go gently back to London. We may light upon them 
 yet. They must be lying hidden somewhere, I am certain. 
 Forward, gently ! " 
 
 At a gentle trot Wild and his band now made their way 
 along the lane back to London again, looking carefully all 
 about them, but unsuccessfully. 
 
 As on the former occasion, Blueskin did not speak or 
 move until they were quite out of earshot. Then he 
 said — 
 
 " Descend." 
 
 "All right, Blue." 
 
 Jack had been waiting for this order, and was glad 
 enough to receive it. 
 
 He was down on the ground in a trice. 
 
 Blueskin descended more slowly, but only a short time 
 elapsed before he was by hi3 side.
 
 308 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Their first impulse, after passing through this great 
 danger, was to clasp each other by the baud. 
 
 " We are safely through that, Jack," said Blueskin, 
 M aud I can assure you it is almost more than I expected." 
 
 " We have bad a narrow escape." 
 
 " You are right there. We have." 
 
 " But I think Jonathan bas gone back to London this 
 time." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 " I think the best thing we can do is to make haste 
 back after him." 
 
 "To London?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I think so, too." 
 
 " But what are we to do about the two horses ? " 
 
 " Leave that to me. I will make it all right." 
 
 " Very well. Shall we get through the hedge into the 
 lane ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Which way do you think of getting back to London ? " 
 
 " We must walk, I suppose." 
 
 " So do I. But I mean which way shall we take." 
 
 Blueskin considered a moment. 
 
 " If we go on a little further," he said, " we shall get 
 into the Edgware-road, and I fancy if we turn down 
 that, it will be our nearest and best way." 
 
 " It will certainly be the contrary one to that taken by 
 Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I know it, and that is one of the reasons why I think it 
 will be best." 
 
 " Let us make our way there, then. You are sure this 
 lane will take us out into the Edgware-road ? " 
 
 " Quite sure. I know exactly whereabouts we are." 
 
 " That is all right, then." 
 
 Our two friends having scrambled through the hedge, 
 proceeded along the lane as Blueskin advised. 
 
 All was quite still around them, and they met with 
 nothing that pointed to the presence of Jonathan Wild, 
 which confirmed them in their supposition that he had 
 made his way straight back to London. 
 
 Every moment then served to give them fresh confidence. 
 
 At length they came to where the lane terminated in 
 the Edgware-road. 
 
 Blueskin notified this fact to his companion, who 
 said — 
 
 " We have got a fair chance now, so let us try if 
 we cannot ascertain what sort of a booty we have got, 
 for I can assure you I am very anxious to know." 
 
 " It is dark, and we may have some trouble." 
 
 "Never mind the trouble. Let us set down on this 
 bank, and try to form an estimate of it." 
 
 Blueskin complied. 
 
 "There is a watch," he said, "and one or two other 
 little things of not much value." 
 
 " Never mind them ; there is a bag, is there not ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but it is neither so large nor so heavy as I 
 should have wished." 
 
 As he spoke Blueskin took from his pocket the bag 
 of money be bad robbed the traveller of. 
 
 " If it is all gold," he said, " it won't be such a bad 
 night's work ; but, from the feel of some of the coins, I 
 am sadly afraid it is silver." 
 
 "Don't say that." 
 
 " However, we shall soon know." 
 
 The string which secm*ed the purse was untied, and 
 then, turning it upside down, Blueskin poured the contents 
 into his hand. 
 
 His presentiment was realized. 
 
 It was nearly all silver, and at the outside the aggregate 
 amount of the whole did not exceed five pounds. 
 
 This was a bitter disappointment to Jack, who reflected 
 upon the peril they had incurred, and the narrow escape 
 i&ey had had to procure such a paltry sum. 
 
 He could not forbear espressing his disappointment to 
 Blueskin. 
 
 " Why, supposing we avoid capture, which is not very 
 likely while Jonathan is in bis present mood, how long 
 will it take to get together the sum we require ?" 
 
 " But, Jack, that would not be a fair way to reckon ; 
 because we have been unlucky to-night, that is no reason 
 why we always should be." 
 
 " I don't like the plan, Blue. I am sure it will not 
 answer. With the power he has at his command, 
 Jonathan Wild will take such measures that it will be 
 
 utterly impos sible for us to avoid capture at bis bands, 
 and then what would become of Edgworth Bess. She 
 would be left alone and helpless in that villain's hands." 
 
 " Get up, Jack. Let us walk along the road and talk a 
 little. You are taking to-night's failure too much to 
 heart, I am sure you are." 
 
 " I am not, Blueskin. Take my word for it, we have 
 gone the wrong way to work." 
 
 " Can you suggest any better scheme ? " 
 
 " Not just this moment I cannot." 
 
 " Well, think. If you can hit upon anything likely, I 
 shall be glad enough to agree to it. But I do not know 
 what else you could think of." 
 
 " Stop a minute." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " A thought strikes me." 
 
 "Oh! is that all. I fancied you heard our pursuers." 
 
 " No— no. Blueskin." 
 
 " Yes, Jack." 
 
 " Do you recollect soon after our affair at the Grange 
 you took me to a place of Wild's, at the Horseferry, West- 
 minster." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Where Jonathan keeps a good deal of swag ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Does he do so now ? " 
 
 " That is more than I could exactly take upon myself to 
 say. I daresay he does." 
 
 " Well then." 
 
 "What would you do? Rob him?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " It is a good plan, Jack." 
 
 " I am glad you are of that opinion." 
 
 " My only wonder is that I did not think of it before." 
 
 " It is a wonder." 
 
 " But it will be a difficult piece of business." 
 
 " Never mind that." 
 
 " And we are more likely to fail than succeed." 
 
 " We can but try, Blue." 
 
 " That's true." 
 
 " We shall run no more risk than we did to-night." 
 
 " Well, no, I suppose not." 
 
 " And, Blueskin, we can almost make sure of taking at 
 one stroke more than we require for our purpose, and it 
 must stand to sense that the sooner we get the money, and 
 have Bess safe out of Wild's power, the better it will be 
 for everybody." 
 
 " I don't dispute that." 
 
 " Well, then, what have you to say against it ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Well, then, I have nothing to say against it, having 
 made the proposal." 
 
 " There is only one thing. It is just possible that Jona- 
 than may have come to the conclusion that it is no longer 
 a safe place to hold his treasures, and we may have all 
 our trouble for nothing." 
 
 " We must run our risk of that." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 " Did you think of making the attempt to-night ? " 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I have nothing to say against to-night, of course ; the 
 sooner the better, I say." 
 
 " Very well, then ; I consider to-night offers a better 
 chance than any." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Jonathan will doubtless make his way straight home, 
 under the conviction that we are hiding somewhere on or 
 about Hampstead-heath, and he will wait until he hears 
 something of us." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " I would give a trifle if we had our horses back again. 
 If we had I should gallop straight from here to the 
 Horseferry, and, if possible, effect our purpose to-night. 
 Then the following night, when Jonathan's attention is 
 taken up with his loss, we will get into bis bouse, and 
 carry off Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " Oh ! Blueskin, my friend, that does, indeed, sound 
 like a plan that is feasible. Oh ! if we could but be set 
 down in Westminster this moment." 
 
 " It is folly to wish for impossibilities." 
 
 " So it is.'* 
 
 " We must use our wits, and hit upon some means ©f 
 getting there with as little delay as possible "
 
 BLUESKIN : A IK)MANCE. 
 
 309 
 
 " Do you know of any horses that we can hire here- 
 abouts?" 
 
 " No, I do not; but I'll tell you what there is, though 
 it would be running a great risk." 
 
 " Never mind the risk," said Jack, impetuously; "let 
 us hear what it is that you have just thought of." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXV. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD MAKE THE BEST OB 
 THEIR WAY TO LONDON. 
 
 " As I daresay you know, Jack," said Blueskin, " there is 
 a coach which passes this way." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, I think this is somewhere about the time it 
 ought to pass. Now, suppose we take our places in it, 
 and ride as far as Piccadilly." 
 
 "With all my heart." 
 
 " But do you think of the risk ? " 
 
 "Never mind that." 
 
 " You are but fresh out of Newgate yet, recollect, and 
 your name serves to fill every one's mouth. It would be 
 rather awkward if we were to get into the coach and be 
 recognised." 
 
 " So it would ; but I think there will not be much 
 danger myself." 
 
 6 Why not ? " 
 
 " Because the passengers, for the most part, will be 
 people coming from a distance in the country, aud they 
 will not be likely to know much about my personal 
 appearance." 
 
 " Well, there is something in that." 
 
 " The chief thing I am afraid of is, that if the coach 
 does come by, there will not be a chance of our having a 
 ride." 
 
 " How do you mean ? " 
 
 " It will most likely be full." 
 
 " Oh ! I don't know that. You see people are put 
 down within short distances of London, so that there are 
 vacant places." 
 
 " I hope there will be to-night." 
 
 " It is time the coach was here, but I can see nothing 
 of it." 
 
 " Nor hear it." 
 
 " Walk on patiently." 
 
 " It may have gone." 
 
 " It may, but I hope not." 
 
 Just as he spoke, there arose upon the night air the 
 clear ringing tones of the guard's horn, which he blew 
 from time to time, in order that there should be no one 
 on the road ignorant of the appoach of the coach. 
 
 All smaller vehicles had to make way for it, for the 
 ponderous machine, once in motion, was not easily turned 
 aside or stopped. 
 
 " It's all right, Jack," said Blueskin ; "here it comes." 
 
 Our two friends stood on one side, and waited anxiously 
 for it to come up. 
 
 When it was some thirty yards from them, they began 
 to shout, in order to attract the attention of the driver 
 and the guard. 
 
 Their cries were heard, and the coach stopped. 
 
 " We want to go to London," said Blueskin, " if you 
 have got a couple of seats vacant." 
 
 "All right, gemmen," said the guard, dismounting 
 from his perch behind. "Just room for two inside, 5 
 that will do." 
 
 " First-rate," said Blueskin, 
 
 The coach-door was opened and our friends entered. 
 
 The passengers little thought who there was getting in 
 to sit down beside them. 
 
 The door was shut. 
 
 The guard resumed his seat. 
 
 The driver cracked his whip, and off rolled Che coach 
 again. 
 
 The interior of the coach was only lighted by an oil 
 lamp, which at the best of times only gave out a feeble 
 illumination, but now it stood sadly in want of trimming, 
 and burned with a greatly diminished brightness, while 
 part of the glass was rendered quite opake with smoke. 
 
 This was a state of things, however, which, though pro- 
 bably disagreeable to the other passengers, suited our two 
 friends exceedingly well, since they had all the better 
 chance of escaping observation. 
 
 The stopping of the coach roused all the passengers 
 
 from the real or affected sleep into which they had fallen 
 and they gazed with listless curiosity at the new arrivals ' 
 
 Accustomed as they were to a certain extent to the 
 obscurity of the coach, they were able to see our friends 
 pretty well, but it did not seem as though auy one saw in 
 their appearance anything suspicious or remarkable. 
 
 But they all seemed thoroughly awake. 
 
 " Are we far from London now, sir ? " asked a clerical, 
 looking personage, who sat next to the door, addressing 
 himself to Blueskin. 
 
 " Not far, sir," replied our friend, without any reluctance 
 or hesitation. 
 
 " About how far should you think, sir? " 
 
 " We shall reach Kilburn in a few miuutes, and that, 
 as I dare say you know, is a village about three miles 
 from London." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 The conversation dropped. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin looked about them. 
 
 Besides the clerical gentleman we have incidentally 
 alluded to, there were in the coach three other persons. 
 
 Two of these were females. 
 
 One had about her that nameless and indescribable 
 something which proclaims the old maid. 
 
 The other was a young girl about nineteen years 
 of age. 
 
 As for the one other passenger who remains unde- 
 scribed, he was a man rather tall and stout, and attired 
 in the very height of fashion. 
 
 He leaned back in the coach, with an assumed aristo- 
 cratic air, and eyed the new comers superciliously. 
 
 " Ton honour," said this individual, in an affected 
 drawling tone of voice, addressing the young lady alluded 
 to. " 'Pon honour. Very extraordinary, indeed ! I quite 
 expected we should have been attacked by highwaymen 
 before we got to the end of our journey; but it don't look 
 much like it, I confess." 
 
 " La ! sir," said the old maid, " pray don't talk 
 about highwaymen — pray don't. It makes me all in 
 a dither." 
 
 " All in what, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Miss, sir, if you please." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed. 'Pon honour. Very extraordinary," 
 were the ejaculations uttered by the coxcombical-looking 
 personage. 
 
 " Have you ever been stopped by highwaymen, sir ? " 
 
 " I should rather think so, indeed. Good that. 'Pon 
 honour. Very extraordinary." 
 
 This was rather an ambiguous I'eply, and might mean 
 anything or nothing. 
 
 But Jack, who found it a relief to get rid of his own 
 thoughts, came to a tolerable correct idea of the character 
 of this person. 
 
 He determined to get something out of him, if he 
 could. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," he said, politely, " but the question 
 that young lady asked you rather interests me." 
 
 " Does it, indeed. 'Pon honour." 
 
 " It does, sir. Was I right in understanding you to 
 say that you had been robbed by highwaymen ? " 
 
 " Yes, rather — at least, not robbed. 'Pon honour — not 
 robbed — stopped, you^know. 'Pon honour, I should like 
 to see the highwayman that would rob me." 
 
 " Indeed, sir." 
 
 *' Yes ; why, if you'll believe me, sir— and I tell you 
 this in confidence — without the slightest exception, high- 
 waymen are the greatest cowards on the face of the 
 earth." 
 
 " Is it possible," said Jack. 
 
 " Yes — 'pon honour. Just show them a firm face, and 
 they will run away — 'pon honour, run away." 
 
 "You quite surprise me, sir." 
 
 " 'Pon honour ; very extraordinary." 
 
 " Would it be troubling you too much to give some ac- 
 count of your stoppage by highwaymen." 
 
 " 'Pon honour — which one ? " 
 
 "Which one, sir?" 
 
 " Yes ; which stoppage do you mean ? " 
 
 " The one you mentioned just now." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; 'pon honour. But I have been stopped so 
 many times that I could not think for a moment which 
 time you meant." 
 
 " I mean any one, sir. Perhaps you would give us the 
 most remarkable one."
 
 eio 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 '"Pon honour; very extraordinary ; but tbey were all 
 most remarkable." 
 
 "You interest me more and more, sir; but if, as you 
 say, they were all most remarkable, you will not have the 
 trouble of making a selection." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, no." 
 
 " Perhaps you would not mind favouring me with the 
 first that comes to your recollection ? " 
 
 " 'Pon honour ; no. I recollect " 
 
 "No, no; please to don't," said the old maid, whose 
 phraseology seemed as peculiar as her personal appear- 
 ance ; " I declare I am all of a dither." 
 
 " All of a what, ma'am ? " asked the fop again. 
 
 " Miss, sir, if you please." 
 
 "'Pon honour; ten thousand pardons. Very extra- 
 ordinary." 
 
 And here the subject would have dropped, but Jack 
 determined to persevere. 
 
 "I am sorry to trouble you so much," he said, after a 
 pause, " but, really, I feel so curious that" 
 
 "Ton honour, yes. I was going to tell you. Very 
 extraordinary." 
 
 " The encounter, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes, 'pon honour. Did you ever happen to hear of 
 Jack Sheppard ? " 
 
 " I have heard something of him," said Jack, coolly. 
 " He's a most audacious chap, is he not ? I mean the one 
 who has broken twice out of Newgate." 
 
 "Pho! — pho! my dear sir, 'pon honour. You don't 
 mean to say that you are a believer in that little fiction, 
 are you ? " 
 
 " To which little fiction do you allude, sir ? " 
 
 " Ton honour. Very extraordinary. I mean the 
 fiction of Jack Sheppard being a brave chap, and having 
 broken twice out of Newgate." 
 
 " I must confess, sir, that until you spoke, I was under 
 the impression that these fictions were reality." 
 
 " Very extraordinary, 'pon honour. All a fiction. Why, 
 Jack Sheppard never broke out of Newgate at all." 
 
 " Indeed," said Jaek, " then I must have been sadly 
 misinformed." 
 
 " There are more besides yourself, sir ; but I happen to 
 be in possession of the facts of the case." 
 
 " May I inquire what they are ? " 
 
 "Ton honour. Very extraordinary. Jack Sheppard 
 and the governor of Newgate" 
 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 " Ton honour. Very extraordinary. But they are firm 
 friends, leagued together, and work into each other's 
 hands." 
 
 " Can it be possible ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary." 
 
 " Very extraordinary, sir, indeed. But the best of all 
 understandings exists between the governor and Jack 
 Sheppard." 
 
 " Do you know the nature of that understanding, sir ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary." 
 
 " Is it indeed, sir." 
 
 " Ton honour. I tell it you in confidence. Jack 
 Sheppard pays the governor of Newgate a certain sum 
 of money every month, and so he is allowed to walk in 
 and out of Newgate whenever he likes." 
 
 " It's really the most extraordinary thing that ever I 
 heard of." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD HAS KATHER AN AMUSING ADVENTURE 
 WITH THE BOASTING TRAVELLER IN THE COACH. 
 
 "Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. Mind you, I 
 tell you this in confidence. If it was known, why, of course, 
 the governor of Newgate would lose his situntion." 
 
 " Of course he would, sir, as you say." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. So it does not matter for being 
 taken prisoner one bit. By virtue of the arrangement I 
 have mentioned, Jack Sheppard can walk out of Newgate 
 whenever he pleases." 
 
 " How awful ! " said the old maid. " If you'll believe 
 me, sir, when I think of him and his doings I go all of a 
 dither." 
 
 " All of a what, ma'am ? " 
 
 " Miss, sir, if you please." 
 
 "Ton honour, yes. Ten thousand pardons! Very 
 extraordinary." 
 
 Neither Jack nor Blueskin could refrain from smiling at 
 this ridiculous and ludicrous scene. 
 
 But Jack was determined not to quit the subject. 
 
 "As you have remarked, sir," he said, "it is really 
 very extraordinary, but something has continually inter- 
 rupted you in the little anecdote you were kind enough to 
 promise to give me." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary, but is always 
 the case ; somebody interrupts me, and so I never finish 
 what I begin." 
 
 " Just so, sir ; but we will endeavour not to interrupt you 
 this time. You began talking about Jack Sheppard, if 
 my memory serves me rightly, as though he was the 
 person who stopped you on the highway, when you 
 broke off to tell me the extraordinary arrangement he 
 had made with the governor of Newgate." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes." 
 
 " I should think that circumstance exempts him from 
 the charge you made against highwaymen a little while 
 ago." 
 
 " Ton honour, sir, I forget. What r ' 
 
 " You said that highwaymen were the most cowardly 
 set of fellows in existence." 
 
 "Ton honour, sir; very extraordinary — but I assure 
 you they are. I think I told you that in confidence, sir, 
 did I not ? " 
 
 " You did, sir.'" 
 
 " Ton honour : yes." 
 
 " But since Jack Sheppard feels that he has nothing to 
 dread from capture that makes him an exception to the 
 rest." 
 
 " Ton honour ; do you mean being a coward ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir; I should think, under such advantageous 
 circumstances, he must be brave." 
 
 " Ton honour, sir ; very extraordinary. But he is 
 positively the greatest coward of the lot." 
 
 " What, Jack Sheppard ? " 
 
 " Ton honour; yes. I tell you in confidence, but he is 
 the greatest coward of the lot." 
 
 " How do you account for that sir ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, sir, I don't know. Very extraordinary, 
 but I was going to tell you " 
 
 "A little anecdote of your encounter with highway- 
 men?" 
 
 "On ! pray don't use that horrid word," interposed the 
 old maid again ; " you don't know how it sends me all of 
 a dither." 
 
 " Ton honour, ma'am." 
 
 " Miss, sir." 
 
 " Very extraordinary ; 'pon honour, miss, but would 
 you oblige me by telling me what you mean by being all 
 of a dither." 
 
 " Does that matter to you, sir ? " 
 
 "Ton honour; yes. Very extraordinary, but for the 
 last half hour I have been trying to tell this young gentle- 
 man an anecdote, when, through your being in a dither, I 
 have not done so yet. Now, 'pon honour, very extraordi- 
 nary, you know, but would you tell me what is a 
 dither ? " 
 
 "A dither, sir?" 
 
 " Yes, a dither." 
 
 " A dither, sir, is a sort of a — kind of a — you know 
 what I mean." 
 
 "Ton honour, ma'am" 
 
 " Miss, sir." 
 
 " A million pardons, miss ; I don't know what you 
 mean ; I only wish I did. What is a dither ? " 
 
 " A dither is a — a — a — a" 
 
 " Yes — yes." 
 
 "A dither." 
 
 " Oh ! a dither, is a dither." 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed. Ton honour. Very extraordinary." 
 
 " I must beg your pardon for persevering, but all these 
 provoking interruptions have inflamed my curiosity to a 
 most incredible extent, and, therefore I do hope, sir, you 
 will not allow your attention to be diverted by any inter- 
 ruption, but tell me the particulars at once." 
 
 "Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. But, in 
 confidence, if you'll believe me, I almost forget what 
 I was going to say. Oh ! I know ; it was about Jack 
 Sheppard." 
 
 " Yes, sir. I believe you said that highwaymen were
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 the greatest cowards on earth, and Jack Sheppard was the 
 greatest coward among highwaymen." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes.' 
 
 " And you were going to give me an instance of his 
 cowardice." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. I recollect 
 now quite well. I do hope no one will interrupt me." 
 
 " Proceed, sir, if you please." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. But about 
 two months ago I was coming from Uxbridge." 
 
 " It was night, sir, I presume." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. But I had 
 been to a party, and was coming home. I was mounted 
 on a most magnificent bay horse, sir. Ton honour, 
 magnificent. I gave three hundred guineas for him, 
 'pon honour. Well, sir. Very extraordinary. But I 
 was mounted on this magnificent bay horse, coming 
 home from a party I had been to at Edgware." 
 
 " You said Uxbridge, sir." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. But I 
 meant Uxbridge_ when I said Edgware. It was a lapsus 
 linguae, sir. 
 that" 
 
 " And they made no effort to attack you ? " 
 
 "Ton honour, no. They never thought of such a 
 thing. Very extraordinary. But I made up my mind 
 I would drive them all to Newgate like a flock of sheep." 
 
 " Did you indeed, sir ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, yes." 
 
 " And how did you succeed in your attempt." 
 
 " Very extraordinary. I'll tell you ; but mind it's m 
 confidence. Of course we were in the country, twenty 
 miles from town, so I had a long job before me." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, but didn't you say at first that the 
 attack was made upon you when you were about half-way 
 between London and Uxbridge ? " 
 
 " Ton honour ; yes. Very extraordinary." 
 
 " So I think, indeed, if Uxbridge is forty miles from 
 London." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes ; but that is an immaterial point in 
 
 the story." 
 "No, no." 
 
 "Ton honour, yes; I tell you, I was chasing these 
 
 - twelve highwaymen along the high-road to Newgate, and 
 
 Talking of lapsus linguae, reminds me every one of the knaves were nearly frightened out of 
 
 their wits, when " — 
 
 " Yes — yes ; but what happened as you were coming 
 home from the party at Uxbridge." 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. But when I 
 had got about half-way home at least a dozen men, all 
 mounted and armed, rode out suddenly from the shadow 
 of the hedge row and surrounded me." 
 The old maid uttered a faint scream. 
 " A dozen men," said Jack. 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. ' Your money or your life ! ' cried 
 one. " Don't dally with me, I am Jack Sheppard ! Your 
 money or your life ! " 
 
 " It was Jack Sheppard who said that ? " 
 " Ton honour, yes." . 
 
 " And he was supported by eleven men ? " 
 "Ton honour, yes. Eleven men, at the very least." 
 "And pray, sir, what did you do, then, sir ? " 
 " Ton honour. Very extraordinary, but I knew what 
 cowards this Jack Sheppard and all other highwaymen 
 were, so what do you think I did ? " 
 " Keally, sir, I am unable to say." 
 " Ton honour. Mind, in confidence, I'll tell you. As 
 soon as I found who they were, I determined to show 
 fight, when I all at once recollected that I had only got 
 one pistol with me, and that was unloaded." 
 " Very awkward that, sir." 
 " Ton honour, no." 
 "No!" 
 
 "No, for, very extraordinary, I knew what cowards 
 the fellows were." 
 
 " What did you do, sir ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, sir. I drew this empty pistol, and, very 
 extraordinary, never put it on full-cock, and cried, ' Turn, 
 you villains, and fly, or I will be the death of every one of 
 you!'" 
 
 "That was a very valorous speech, sir, and did you 
 great credit. At any rate, it shows that you were not 
 a coward." 
 " Ton honour, no." 
 "What did the highwaymen do?" 
 " Very extraordinary. But no sooner did I produce 
 the pistol, and speak in the manner I told you, than 
 seeing my determined manner, they turned and fled." 
 u What, all the twelve ? " 
 
 "Ton honour, yes. Very extraordinary. All the 
 twelve." 
 
 " They must have been cowards for a dozen of them 
 to fly from one man. Did not Jack Sheppard make 
 any defence ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, no. Very extraordinary, but I believe 
 he was the first to turn and fly." 
 " No— no." 
 
 " Ton honour. He was the greatest coward of all the 
 lot, as I told you." 
 " So you said, sir." 
 " Very extraordinary." 
 
 " I should think it was an extraordinary sight, sir ? " 
 " Ton honour, yes. One man chasing twelve." 
 "Then did you chase them when they turned and 
 fled ? " 
 
 " Ton honour, yes. There was I — one man— with an 
 unloaded pistolj chasing them." 
 
 At this moment the coach stopped with a sudden jerk, 
 and the trampling of horses' feet ensued. 
 
 The boasting fop looked rather aghast ; and when Jack 
 said, " I'll wager my life that is Jack Sheppard who has 
 stopped the coach ! " he uttered a howl of dismay, while 
 he made a frantic effort to get under one of the seats. 
 
 He dived down just where the old maid sat who was all 
 in a dither. 
 
 In a second all that could be seen of him were his legs, 
 which stuck out most ridiculously from underneath her 
 petticoats. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXVIL 
 
 JONATHAN WILD, WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF QUILT 
 ARNOLD PERFORMS A VERY DISAGREEABLE BUT 
 NECESSARY DUTY. 
 
 Cursing Jack Sheppard— cursing Blueskin — cursing 
 himself— and cursing all the world, Jonathan Wild rode 
 up to the door of his own house in Newgate -street. 
 
 The night was young yet, and many hours would have 
 to elapse before dawn came, but he, nevertheless, for a 
 time relinquished his search for those he so much wished 
 to see the end of. 
 
 But on that occasion he found it would answer his 
 purpose better not to waste time in searching for the 
 two objects of hi3 hate, but to wait until he heard of 
 them. 
 
 Very long he felt sure it would not be before some 
 tidings were brought him of their doings. 
 
 Now, he argued, they were, no doubt safely hidden, 
 where, on a dark night, he would stand no chance what- 
 ever of finding them. 
 
 Little did he imagine how far he was off the truth. 
 
 Little did he [think that so bold a plan would occur to 
 them as to make their way with all speed to his ware- 
 house in the Horseferry, Westminster, and despoil it of its 
 precious and valuable contents. 
 
 He threw himself off his reeking steed, and dismissed 
 those who had so far aided him in the night's pro- 
 
 But though he dismissed his men, Jonathan's work for 
 the night was by no means over. 
 
 He had a disagreeable task to perform, but it was a 
 compulsory one. 
 
 It was to bury his mistress, Mary Milliner. 
 
 Some days had elapsed since her mysterious death ; 
 and as he had said, when speaking that evening to Quilt 
 Arnold upon the subject, ever since the escape of Jack 
 Sheppard his thoughts had been so much engrossed that 
 he had forgotten all about her. 
 
 Quilt Arnold was now quite in Jonathan's confidence, 
 and in every respect his head man, occupying about 
 the same position as Blueskin did when we first intro- 
 duced him to the reader at the commencement of this 
 narrative. 
 
 Wilkinson was on the lock that night, and of course 
 heard the trampling of hoofs which accompanied Wild a 
 arrival. . . . . . 
 
 He flung open the door, and allowed his imperious 
 master to enter.
 
 312 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Where's Quilt ?" was Jonathan's first question. 
 
 " Upstairs, Mr. Wild." 
 
 The thief-taker made no reply, but stalked along the 
 hall and ascended the stairs. 
 
 He went into the room where he usually sat on the first 
 floor. 
 
 But, before entering- it, he called out for Quilt Arnold 
 in a voice that shook the house. 
 
 There was a hurried trampling of heavy feet, and then 
 some one knocked submissively at the door. 
 
 Jonathan just at that moment was engaged in drinking 
 from a bottle of brandy which he had taken off the table. 
 
 Removing it, however, from his lips he called out — 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 Quilt obeyed. 
 What is it, Mr. Wild, if you please," he asked, as he 
 stood on the threshold with the knob of the door in his 
 hand. 
 
 "Come in and sit down, Quilt. I want to speak to 
 
 Quilt sat down without a word, and waited in patience 
 to hear what would be said to him. 
 
 " I shall want your assistance to-night." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You remember what I was saying to you ? " 
 
 " About Mary Milliner ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What am I to do, sir ? " 
 
 " Have you been up in the room to look at her ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 " Then, how do you know she is there ? " 
 
 "That's where she was put, Mr. Wild, and she was 
 past moving." 
 
 " She must be buried." 
 So you said, sir." 
 
 " You and I will do it." 
 
 "Me, sir?" said Quilt, not altogether relishing the idea, 
 for since the little affair in the vaults of Tottenham 
 Church, he had a mortal repugnance to dead bodies. 
 
 " Yes, you. I'll tell you how it is to be done." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " You must get a light cart, and a horse, and a sack." 
 
 "A sack." 
 
 " Yes, a sack to put the body in, Quilt." 
 
 " Oh ! lor, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You had better go and order the horse and cart at 
 once." 
 
 " What time must it be at the door ? " 
 
 " In half-an-hour." 
 
 " Very well, sir." 
 
 " Then come back to me, and I will give you further 
 instructions." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Quilt Arnold left the room by no means well pleased 
 with the night's work he had in prospective. 
 
 But it was more than his life was worth to make the 
 slightest demur, so, in spite of his unwillingness, he 
 went. 
 
 While he was gone, Jonathan seated himself in a chair 
 by the fireside. 
 
 He drew the table towards him, and took another sip at 
 the brandy. 
 
 Then he lighted his pipe, and fell into a musing fit. 
 
 How many^different thoughts swept through the brain of 
 the thief-taker it would be hard indeed to say. He had a 
 great many things on his mind, each of which required 
 his immediate attention. 
 
 He thought deeply, and while so busily engaged the 
 time passed rapidly. 
 
 He was aroused by a faint tapping at the door, which 
 announced Quilt Arnold's return. 
 
 " Come in." 
 
 " The horse and cart will be at the door in half-an-hour, 
 Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Very well. Where's the sack ? " 
 
 " On the landing outside." 
 
 " Is it a large one ? " 
 
 " The largest I could get, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Have you got a lantern ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Then we are provided." 
 
 " Shall you require anything more ? " 
 
 " I think not." 
 
 " Very well, sir." 
 
 "You have not got a very pleasant job before you, 
 Quilt." 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " However, take a drop of brandy. Don't be afraid, 
 that will put you all right." 
 
 Quilt did not need a second bidding to do this. 
 
 To be sure, while he was out he called at a public- 
 house and had a draw on his own account, but he could do 
 with a little more. 
 
 Jonathan rose to his feet and put down his pipe. 
 
 Quilt put down the brandy. 
 
 "Now," said the former, "take your lantern and the 
 sack, and go upstairs. I will follow." 
 
 Quilt led the way. 
 
 He had left his dark lantern on the broad part of the 
 balustrade, and the sack was lying on the ground close to 
 it, rolled up into a very small compass. 
 
 These he took in his hand, and went upstairs to the 
 door of the room in which the mortal remains of the 
 defunct Mary Milliner lay. 
 
 Steggs was on the landing carefully watching at hi3 
 post, and Jonathan stopped a moment to question him. 
 
 But he elicited only the customary reply that all was 
 right, and that he had seen nothing to account for the 
 awful and mysterious death of Wild's mistress. 
 
 Jonathan did not think proper to say anything to Steggs 
 respecting the business which had brought him up there 
 at that late hour of the night, and he (Steggs) watched 
 his actions with considerable uneasiness. 
 
 But he soon found he had nothing whatever to alarm 
 himself about. 
 
 Quilt Arnold had got the key of the chamber of death, 
 and in spite of the factitious vigour which his recent fiery 
 potations gave him, his hand shook perceptibly when he 
 tried to introduce the key into the lock. 
 
 With an effort, however, he controlled himself, and 
 turned the key. 
 
 He threw open the door. 
 
 The moment he did so both the senses of hiir.self and 
 his master, who stood close behind him, were assailed by 
 that disagreeable and unmistakable odour which decom- 
 posing flesh always emits. 
 
 So powerful, too, was it, that they had to draw back a 
 step, to allow the pure air upon the landing (for such, by 
 comparison, it seemed to be) to mingle with the foul 
 atmosphere within the chamber. 
 
 " I am afraid we have let the job go a little too long, 
 Quilt," said Wild. 
 
 " She smells awful, sir." 
 
 " Pah ! Don't talk about it. We have got a disagree- 
 able job to do, and we must do it. It's no good to turn 
 sick. Screw up your courage, Quilt. The sooner we get 
 it over the better." 
 
 Although Quilt Arnold could not help seeing the force 
 of this reasoning, still it did not reconcile him any the 
 more to the task he had to do. 
 
 But he knew it had to be done, so, holding the sack 
 in his left hand, and the lantern in his right, he entered. 
 
 Jonathan followed him closely. 
 
 When Mary Milliner had been carried up stairs, and 
 put in the room, the men had shown her very little 
 ceremony. 
 
 They put her down all in a heap, just as they held 
 her, on the floor inside the room. 
 
 There she lay still, and had not Quilt Arnold known 
 just where she was, he would inevitably have tumbled 
 over her. 
 
 But he cautioned Wild, and stepped aside. 
 
 The thief-taker cast one glance upon the corpse, and 
 then turned away with a shudder of horror. 
 
 We shall not attempt in any way to describe the awful 
 and revolting appearance which the dead body presented. 
 
 We should only disgust the reader. 
 
 But the worst part of the work had to be done. 
 
 It was a kind of retribution for Wild to have so much 
 trouble with her dead body— a kind of punishment for his 
 own horrible brutality. 
 
 Quilt Arnold put the lantern on the floor, and unrolled 
 the sack. 
 
 " You will have to help me put her in, he said. I 
 can't do it all myself, Mr. Wild.'' 
 
 " All right, I'll help you." 
 
 With a good deal of trouble, and by their united 
 exertions, the body was at last got Into the sack.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 313 
 
 [the encounter on the housetops.] 
 
 They accomplished the feat by putting the mouth of the 
 sack over her head, and drawing it down over the whole 
 of her bod}'. 
 
 Then, with a sigh of satisfaction, Quilt tied up the 
 mouth with a piece of strong twine. 
 
 "Carry her down stairs, Quilt," said Wild; "thank 
 goodness, the worst part of the job is over. Come on 
 carefully. I will hold the light." 
 
 Quilt hoisted the body upon his back, and slowly 
 staggered out of the room across the landing and down 
 the stairs after his master. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND QUILT ARNOLD BURY THE BODY OF 
 MARY MILLINER. 
 
 The body of Mary Milliner was no inconsiderable weight, 
 so when he got to the landing on the first-floor, Quilt 
 Arnold was fain to set his burden against the wall and 
 rest himself a little. 
 
 " Come and have a drop more brandy, Quilt," said 
 Wild, " and that will take the taste out of your mouth." 
 
 " She smells awful, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " She does ; but come inside and shut the door. We 
 will have some brandy together till the cart comes." 
 
 " I should think the half-hour must be up, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " It must be very nearly. But we shall hear it when it 
 stops." 
 
 " So we shall, sir." 
 
 Wild drank deeply of the brandy on the table, and then 
 passed the bottle to his lieutenant. 
 
 " Quilt," said Wild, after a moment's pause, " we ought 
 to get all the men out of the way. I don't want this job 
 to get wind, or there will be no end of fuss made about 
 it." . . . 
 
 " I think there's only Wilkinson downstairs, sir, and 
 he's on the lock." 
 
 " Wilkinson, Wilkinson," said Wild, musingly, "I should 
 think we could trust him." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, I think so too." 
 
 N*. 40,
 
 f m 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Then go downstairs, and see if there is any one else 
 about. If there is not, it does not matter." 
 
 Quilt departed on this errand, and soon returned to say 
 that there was no one downstairs hut Wilkinson. 
 
 This satisfied Wild, and he renewed bis attentions to 
 the brandy, permitting Quilt to follow his example. 
 
 At this moment there was the clattering of horses' 
 faooi'a, and the rumbling of wheels in tbe street outside 
 " Tbat's the cart," said Quilt. 
 
 "Run down, then, and send whoever has brouglt it 
 about his business." 
 " Yes, Mr Wild." 
 
 " We must have no prying eyes upon us." 
 " I understand, sir. I'll be back again directly," 
 And Quilt was as good as his word. 
 " The coast is all clear now, sir." 
 " Very good. Quilt ! " 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " We have forgotten something now." 
 " What is that, Mr. Wild ? " 
 " A spade." 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! yes. We shall want a spade." 
 " Of course we shall. Where shall you find one f " 
 " That is more than I can tell you, sir." 
 " You must find one, then." 
 
 Quilt set off upon this errand, and was fortunate 
 enough, after a few minutes' search, to find the article he 
 wanted in the corridor from which the cells opened. 
 
 This he placed in the cart, and then went upstairs to 
 tell his master. 
 
 Jonathan was quite ready. 
 
 Once more, then, did Quilt take up the sack upon his 
 back, and stagger downstairs. 
 Along the passage and out into the street they went. 
 Wilkinson did not know what was being carried out, 
 and Wild did not allow him a chance of ascertaining, for 
 as soon as Quilt got through the door, he stood at it and 
 pulled it shut after him. 
 
 He then lent his assistance to his lieutenant to lift the 
 body into the cart, and as this had a flap at the back, it 
 was done with tolerable ease. 
 Then both got into the cart. 
 Jonathan took the reins. 
 
 The horse started off at a rapid speed, and then, for the 
 first time, Jonathan Wild began to wonder where he 
 should bury the body. 
 
 But he thought he should have plenty of time to 
 think as he went along, so he took his course down 
 Holborn. 
 
 He wanted to bury her in some place where her 
 remains would never again see the light of day. 
 
 What place was best adapted for such a purpose was 
 more than he could say. 
 
 But when he came to the corner of Gray's Inn-lane, he 
 ^rned up that dark and dismal thoroughfare. 
 
 " I will ask Quilt's advice," he said. " Perhaps he will 
 *>® able to give me a good hint." 
 " Quilt V' he said. 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I want to bury the body, Quilt," he said, " in some 
 safe place, where no one will ever find it. Do you under- 
 stand?" 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Now where should you think a likely spot ? " 
 " I am sure I don't know, Mr. Wild ; I thought you had 
 made up your mind." 
 
 " No, no, I have not ; I thought there would be plenty 
 of time to do that after we started." 
 " We are in Gray's Inn-lane, are we not sir ? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 ° If you turn to the right a little, Mr. Wild, we shall 
 oome to the village of St. Pancras. There is an old 
 church there, sir." 
 " I know there is." 
 
 " It stands in a very lonely position, indeed. Suppose 
 we were to bury her in the churchyard." 
 
 " It is not a bad thought, Quilt, but I am afraid the 
 ohoreh you speak of is rather too near London." 
 " It is rather near." 
 
 " But I like the idee rf burying her in a churchyard, if 
 we could find some out-of-the-way spot." 
 
 " It would be better, sir ; and if we filled the grave up 
 carefully, no one would be any the wiser." 
 " Very true ; and now I come to think of it, there is a 
 
 church about half-way between Kentish-town and High* 
 gate-hill which will just answer our purpose." 
 
 " I know the church you mean," said Quilt ; " it is a 
 very old one, with a square tower, and covered with green 
 stuff." 
 " That is it." 
 
 " It is far away from all houses, and half in ruins ; i 
 should think a better place could not be found." 
 " We will drive there, then, Quilt." 
 Jonathan, having come to this determination, struck 
 the horse with the whip, and away they went at a rattling 
 pace. 
 
 But wnen they passed the few cottages which stood 
 near King's-cross, their way lay entirely through the 
 country, until they came to the long, straggling village of 
 Kentish-town. 
 
 Through this, keeping along the High -street, they 
 went at full speed. 
 
 But there was no eye to see them. 
 The inhabitants of the little rural village had one and 
 all long ago retired to rest. 
 
 It was about two o'clock in the morning when Jona- 
 than reached his destination. 
 
 The church lay a little way back from the main road, 
 and was surrounded with a low, moss-grown, wooden 
 fence. 
 
 The square tower of the church was rather darker than 
 the sky, so its outlines were clearly revealed upon it. 
 
 Jonathan stopped the cart in the high-road, just opposite 
 the church. 
 
 But Quilt, whose knowledge of that neighbourhood wag 
 perfect, said — 
 "Mr. Wild! Mr. Wild!" 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Don't stop here, sir." 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Drive a little further, and then you will come to a very 
 narrow lane, which leads down to one of the gates opening 
 into the churchyard." 
 
 " You know the place well, then ? " 
 " Very well, indeed, Mr. Wild, for when I was a boy I 
 lived here." 
 
 These last few words were spoken in a tone of voice 
 which no one, not even Jonathan Wild, would have 
 recognised as belonging to Quilt Arnold. 
 
 It is probable that the past came back to his mind with 
 extraordinary vividity, and that he was reminded of what 
 he was when he was a boy and what he was now. 
 
 But he quickly banished all such unpleasant reflections 
 from his mind. 
 
 Jonathan saw the policy of leaving the high-road, so he 
 again set the horse in motion, looking out all the time for 
 the turning of which Quilt had spoken. 
 It was only a few yards further on. 
 He turned down it without hesitation, and halted in a 
 minute or two afterwards at a little gate which led into 
 the churchyard. 
 
 Quilt sprang out of the cart, and Jonathan followed his 
 example. 
 
 They then took hold of the horse's head, and walked 
 him close to the hedge, so that he could eat the soft 
 green grass which grew rather plentifully about that 
 spot. 
 
 The board at the back of the cart was next unfastened, 
 and allowed to swing down upon its hinges. 
 
 Quilt took hold of the sack and drew it out, while 
 Jonathan possessed himself of the spade. 
 
 The body of poor Mary Milliner fell with a heavy dab 
 to the ground, for the weight was more than Quilt could 
 manage by himself. 
 
 Jonathan, however, put down the spade, and came to 
 his assistance. 
 By their united exertions she was carried to tho gate. 
 But it was fastened. 
 
 They did not attempt to open it, but fairly swung the 
 body over it into the churchyard, or rather upon the 
 well-trod gravel path leading to it. 
 Quilt then fetched the spade. 
 
 Their next proceeding was to climb over the gate 
 themselves. 
 
 But this was easily enough done, and picking up the 
 sack, they carried it to a remote corner of the cburcbya?'!. 
 to which Quilt Arnold led the way. 
 All around was positively as still as death*
 
 BLTTESKIN: A B.OMANCB, 
 
 SIS 
 
 So still, indeed, as to become painful, and the thief- 
 taker and his accomplice both wished that they could 
 hear some sound to indicate the presence of some other 
 living creature. 
 
 On reaching the remote corner of the churchyard 
 referred to, they deposited their burden. 
 
 Tt was quite a rehef to Quilt when Wild said— 
 
 *' Light the lantern." 
 
 He immediately obeyed. 
 
 II was a dark lantern, and, by his master's orders, he 
 only partially withdrew the slide, lest its light should 
 attract attention to them. 
 
 Jonathan sat down on a contiguous tombstone, and he^i 
 the lantern in his hand, directing the whole of its rays 
 opon one spot, while Quilt Arnold began very diligently 
 to turn up the earth. 
 
 " Dig deep," said Jonathan, " and as quickly as you are 
 able, because every moment we stay increases our risk of 
 detection. When you are tired and can dig no longer, I 
 will help while you rest." 
 
 Quilt by no means wished to be discovered in what he 
 was about, so he set to work in good earnest, and soon 
 had a large mound of earth and a deep hole. 
 
 But digging is hard work to those who are not 
 accustomed to it, and Arnold was soon obliged to give in. 
 
 Then he held the light while Jonathan jumped into 
 the grave, and turned out the earth in incredible 
 quantities. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXIX. 
 
 •ECORDS THH HORRIBLE SCENE WHICH TOOK PLACE IN 
 THE GRAVEYARD OF THE RUINED CHURCH. 
 
 Jonathan set about his task too vigorously at first to be 
 able to keep it up long. 
 
 Still, in a very little while, he had done a great deal. 
 
 But his strength suddenly left him, and he was obliged 
 to jump out of the grave to allow Quilt Arnold to finish 
 the task. 
 
 That worthy was tolerably refreshed by the short rest 
 he had had, and he resumed his work steadily as before. 
 
 At the expiration of a quarter of an hour he had dug a 
 hole some eight or nine feet in depth. 
 
 " Is that deep enough ? " he asked. 
 
 " Go a little lower, Quilt ; you may as well while you 
 are about it. I want to bury her so deep that there won't 
 be any risk of discovering her when they come to dig 
 upon this spot to bury somebody else. Do you under- 
 stand me ? " 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild," replied Quilt, and he went on 
 with his arduous labour. 
 
 As he sat on the corner of a tombstone, holding the 
 light, Jonathan had an ear to catch any sound. 
 
 But all was silent still, and he began to indulge iu the 
 hope that he should finish his disagreeable duty without 
 interruption. 
 
 Once more Quilt asked the question whether the grave 
 was deep enough, and this time he coupled it with the 
 assertion that he could not dig it any deeper in conse- 
 quence of the difliculty he had in throwing out the 
 mould. 
 
 " Come out, then," replied Wild, " and let us get the 
 job over as quickly as we can. I am tired of it." 
 
 "So am I, sir," said Quilt, as, not without some 
 trouble, he scrambled out of the deep grave he had dug. 
 
 He straightened his back. 
 
 Jonathan put the lantern down just where he had been 
 eitting — that is to say, upon the corner of the tombstone. 
 
 Then they once more stooped over the inert body of 
 Jonathan's mistress. 
 
 Catching hold of tbe sack at all four corners, they 
 staggered with it to the edge of the grave, and then, 
 giving it one swing, allowed it to fall in. 
 
 It struck with a dull thud against the sides of the grave, 
 and finally reached the bottom with a crash that caused a 
 sickening sensation in the breasts of the thief -tal er and 
 Quilt as they heard it. 
 
 But at that moment their ears was assailed with a cry 
 that made them forget all about the other. 
 
 That cry was uttered by a human voice. 
 
 " Help ! help 1 " it said. " Murder ! murder ! help ! 
 They are robbing a dead body ! Help ! help ! goad 
 people all ! Arrest the villains ! Murder ! murder ! 
 
 These words were enough to terrify Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Although personally it might be said that he had 
 nothing to fear, yet he did not wish to be mixed up in any 
 way with the transaction, and he would have deputed the 
 job altogether to other hands, only in that case bis mind 
 would not have been so much at rest as it would be if he 
 had seen it done himself. 
 
 Looking through the gloom in the churchyard, he saw 
 in the distance the figure of an old man, who was running 
 rapidly. 
 
 The moment he caught sight of him he made up his 
 mind what to do. 
 
 Quilt Arnold had taken the spade with the intention of 
 hastily filling up the grave. 
 
 Jonathan snatched it with great rapidity from hw 
 hands, and then, heedless of the obstacles that were 
 before him, he ran after the flying form. 
 
 It was wonderful to see how he jumped over the tomb- 
 stones, which were placed very thickly together, and 
 almost every time without sustaining the slightest injury. 
 
 But who it was that was flying before him to spread 
 the alarm, must either have had fleeter running powers 
 than Wild, or else, which was more likely, possessed a 
 more intimate knowledge of the graveyard. 
 
 _ In spite of every effort, Jonathan could not overtake 
 him, and he began to grow terribly apprehensive that he 
 would get out of the churehyard, and running to the 
 village, spread the alarm. 
 
 This dread made Jonathan double his endeavours. 
 
 At length, just before him, he could see the palings 
 which formed the boundary of the churchyard, and the 
 little gate in them. 
 
 The flying form, still uttering cries for help, made its 
 way in a direct line to the gate. 
 
 He reached it. 
 
 But he had to 6tay a moment to undo the fastening. 
 
 That moment was fatal. 
 
 It allowed Jonathan to come up with him. 
 
 He was nervous and agitated, and could net find the 
 latch. 
 
 At last his hand rested upon it. 
 
 Then he lifted it. 
 
 Another seoond, and he would have been fairly out into 
 the lane. 
 
 But Jonathan was too close behind him. 
 
 He saw the person he was chasing fumbling at the 
 gate. 
 
 He grasped the handle of the spade tightly with both 
 hands. 
 
 He raised it above his head. 
 
 Then, just at the very moment when the man, having 
 lilted the latch, was about to pass through, he brought 
 it down with all the force he could impart to it. 
 
 His aim was accurate. 
 
 The sharp edge of the heavy implement caught the 
 man fairly on the top of the head. 
 
 He fell with a gasping sob, with as much suddenness as 
 if he had been struck down with lightning. 
 
 Had there been any one to see the countenance of the 
 thief-taker at that moment, it would be seen to be dis- 
 torted with one of his hideous grins. 
 
 That was because he had been successful. 
 
 The man he had so brutally and ruthlessly struck down 
 lay just where he had fallen, and exhibited no signs what- 
 ever of returning animation. 
 
 And now Quilt Arnold, holding the lantern with an 
 unsteady grasp, appeared upon the scene. 
 
 He had followed his master, picking his way among 
 the gravestones carefully. 
 
 His heart turned sick, callous as he was, when he saw 
 the brutal murder committed. 
 
 But the first words Wild uttered showed not the least 
 signs of pity or remorse. 
 
 " Ha — ha ! Quilt, there he is ; I thought I ehould have 
 him ! Lend me the light. Ah ! just as I thenght ; he is 
 aa dead as a nut." 
 
 Jonathan had taken the lantern, and when he looked afe 
 the prostrate form, he saw that the head had been clove 
 in two with the edge of the spade, and the brains scat- 
 tered around. 
 
 " Curse him ! " growled the thief-taker, in a voice of 
 extreme bitterness, " Curse him ! I have caught him, *o 
 be sure, but we shall have no end of extra trouble. Look, 
 there is a pool of blood." 
 
 "Lend me the lantern," said Quilt, suddenly, as he
 
 $6 
 
 BLTJE8KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 caught a transient glimpse of the faoe of the murdered 
 
 man. 
 
 " What for?" 
 
 " As I toid you, I lived about these parts when I was a 
 boy — and — and — perhaps I may know him. Lend me 
 the light, I say." # 
 
 There was a strange, wild incoherence in Quilt s 
 manner that awed Wild, and he gave him the lantern 
 without further question. 
 
 The moment he had it in his grasp he hurried forward 
 with staggering step, and directed the rays of the lantern 
 upon the countenance of the dead. 
 
 A horrible groan came from his lips as he caught 
 sight of it, and he sunk down in a moment beside the 
 corpse. 
 
 Jonathan was full of astonishment and somewhat terri- 
 fied, but he would not allow that to be visible, so he 
 assumed an angry air. 
 
 Quilt was at first ignorant of the import of the words 
 which Jonathan addressed to him, but when he did catch 
 their meaning, he sprang suddenly to his feet and caught 
 the thief-taker by the throat. 
 
 " Villain ! villain ! monstrous villain ! " he shrieked. 
 u Did I come here to-night for this ? But you shall pay 
 for what you have done with your own life ! " 
 
 Surprise at the sudden attack for a moment made Wild 
 incapable of defending himself, but recovering the U6e of 
 his senses, he, in his turn, grasped Quilt Arnold by the 
 throat, and a desperate struggle ensued. 
 
 In this the latter proved no match for his master. 
 
 Jonathan had him down in a moment, with his knee 
 upon his chest. 
 
 " Are you mad ? " he asked, with real anger. " What 
 do you mean ? What is the matter with you ? Speak, or 
 this moment is your last ! " 
 
 " I will, Mr. Wild," said Quilt, his excitement sub- 
 siding. " I took the lantern to look in the face of the 
 man you had killed. I had a presentiment that I should 
 know it, and so I did. Jonathan Wild! I know that 
 face. It was my father ! " 
 
 Jonathan himself was too much surprised to reply for a 
 moment, and then all he could say when he did reply was 
 to repeat the words — 
 
 " Your father F " 
 
 " Yes. He was the sexton to this church." 
 
 " Well, well, Quilt ; it can't be helped now. It would 
 never have done for him to have spread the alarm all over 
 the village. Besides, I didn't know it was him. It was 
 an unlucky chance." 
 
 "He is quite dead," said Quilt, for Jonathan having 
 released him, he had gone back to the body. " He is 
 quite dead." 
 
 " It is a most unlucky affair, altogether," said Wild. 
 " It will never do to leave him where he is. We must 
 bury him along with Mary Milliner, and be off. Why, if 
 this was found out, we should both be tucked up, as sure 
 as fate." 
 
 Quilt Arnold, who was at first much agitated, was now 
 quite calm and self-possessed, or at all events appeared to 
 be so. How much such behaviour was assumed none could 
 tell. Jonathan Wild had him in his power, and he 
 knew it. 
 
 At the command of his master he assisted to carry 
 the body of his father to his unholy grave, and cast 
 him in. 
 
 Quilt's heart, hard as it was, smote him. 
 
 But Jonathan produced his brandy -flask, and handed 
 it to him. 
 
 He drank heartily, and so did Wild, after which they 
 set about ending their labour. 
 
 The earth was shovelled in, and pressed down as hard 
 as possible with their feet. 
 
 Then the turf was carefully placed over it, and no traces 
 remained of the deed which had been done, with the 
 exception of a mound of soil. 
 
 This, however, they loaded with some trouble into the 
 cart, and disposed of at a distance. 
 
 The blood stains were removed, and everything done to 
 prevent suspicion of what had occurred, and Jonathan 
 drove back to London just as the day was beginning to 
 (lawn. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXX. 
 
 IN WHICH THE LUDICROUS ADVENTURE Wtiti TOT 
 BOASTING TRAVELLER IS BROUGHT TO A CONCLU" 
 SION. 
 
 Both Jack Sheppard and Blueskin broke out into a 
 hearty laugh when they saw the effect which the mere 
 mention of Jack Sheppard's name, and the bare proba- 
 bility of his having stopped the coach, produced upon the 
 boasting traveller. 
 
 Now, most of those in the coach knew that it had 
 stopped from the most natural of all causes. 
 
 It had reached its destination, and that is why Jack 
 spoke as he did. 
 
 But the " Very extraordinary, 'pon honour " gentleman 
 was quite oblivious of this, and he continued bis frantic 
 exertions to get underneath the seat, to the great dismay 
 of the old maid, who, if ever she was in her life, must 
 now be in a " dither." 
 
 The guard of the coach now came to the door and 
 opened it, and the passengers alighted. 
 
 It was then, and not tell then, that Mr. " 'Pon honour " 
 discovered that he had nothing whatever to fear, and 
 looking very sheepish, he crawled out of the vehicle, 
 and was off out of sight in a moment in the darkness. 
 
 But Jack and Blueskin had both made up their minds 
 that he should not escape them, so they darted off after 
 him. 
 
 The valorous gentleman slackened his speed before he 
 got very far, and then our two friends overtook him. 
 
 Very skilfully they got one on each side of his person. 
 
 " Ha ! sir," said Jack, " I see you are going the same 
 way as we are. Come along. We shall be glad of your 
 company." 
 
 " 'Pon honour" ■ '. ■■ 
 
 " Just so, sir. You will forgive me for my little joke 
 at your expense, won't you ? " 
 
 " Very extraordinary. But did you think I waa 
 afraid ? " 
 
 " Oh ! no." 
 
 " 'Pon honour ; but just under the seat was my port- 
 mantle, and in that I had a brace of pistols. I was trying 
 to get them out, and if Jack Sheppard had stopped the 
 coach I would have peppered him." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed. Now I trust you will forgive me for 
 making such a mistake, but I really thought you were 
 frightened, and were trying to hide yourself." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, no ; very extraordinary." 
 
 " A very extraordinary mistake for me to make. But 
 still I think London streets are very unsafe after dark ; 
 and if you are going our way I think your company 
 would be a protection." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes ; very extraordinary, but I am going 
 to Charing-cross." 
 
 " And we are going to Westminster, so we shall have 
 the pleasure of 5 our company for half the distance, at 
 least." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes ; I shall be very glad to protect you, 
 I am sure. As I told you before, highwaymen are the 
 greatest cowards, and if it had only been Jack Sheppard 
 who had stopped the coach I would have finished 
 him." 
 
 " So you said, sir ; this way, if you please — round the 
 corner to the right." 
 
 " But that is not the way to Charing-cross." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; we shall save a good deal of ground, yon 
 will find, by going this way." 
 
 The valorous gentleman did not like to say nay to 
 those who were with him, so they turned the corner. 
 
 It was into a very narrow, dark, and suspicious-looking 
 street leading out of Piccadilly into which they turned. 
 
 The hour was a late — or rather, to speak more correctly, 
 an early one — still the night was far from gone, and no 
 one scarcely was abroad. 
 
 Just as they turned into this street, Blueskin took up 
 the conversation. 
 
 " I dare say, sir, considering the government offers z. 
 rather large reward for the apprehension of Jack Shep- 
 pard, that you would be glad to come across him." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes ; if you'll believe me, 6ir, very ex- 
 traordinary, but the money just now would be very useful 
 indeed, and there is nothing I should like so much as to 
 meet with him."
 
 BLUESKIN: A. ROMANCE 
 
 3ir 
 
 " You wouid drive him before you, I presume, as far as 
 Newgate ? " 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes." 
 
 " Then you have got the chance now," said Jack. 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I say, if you want to see Jack Sheppard, you have 
 got a chance.' 
 
 In his fright, the boasting traveller forgot th9 cus- 
 tomary ejaculations with which he interlarded wnat ne 
 said, and merely gasped — 
 
 "How? where ?" 
 
 " Here. For I am Jack Sheppard ! " 
 
 It is out of our power to describe the effect whicn 
 these words had. 
 
 At first he stared at Jack with undisguised amazement, 
 for he could not realize what he had just heard. 
 
 Then he uttered a howl, similar to the one to which 
 he gave vent when in the coach. 
 
 His next attempt was to fly. 
 
 But Blueskin was on the watch for that, so he merely 
 ran into his arms. 
 
 " One word," he said, in a stern voice, very different 
 to the one in which he had previously spoken. " One 
 word, or the least cry for help, and I will blow your 
 brains out ! " 
 
 This threat did not have to be repeated. 
 
 The valorous gentleman collapsed at once. 
 
 " Put your hand in my coat-pocket, Jack, and you will 
 find a coil of thin rope." 
 
 The word rope seemed very suggestive to Mr. " Pon 
 honour," and he uttered a groan. 
 
 But Blueskin' s next words took a load off his mind. 
 
 " Tie him to this post, Jack, and then we will see 
 what he is worth." 
 
 There was a post on the footpath close to where they 
 stood, and it was to this that Blueskin alluded. 
 
 The traveller was quite helpless in his hands, and he 
 placed him against the post, while Jack firmly bound 
 birn to it with the rope. 
 
 Their next proceeding was to search his pockets, but 
 all they could find were some trifling toilette articles 
 and some coppers. 
 
 At this the rage of our two friends can be imagined, 
 thongh Jack from the first had formed a tolerably accu- 
 rate idea of who he was, and how much he was worth. 
 
 " Villain ! " said Blueskin, " is this all the money you 
 bave about you ? Tell me the truth, or so sure as I 
 speak, I will scatter your brains upon the pavement ! " 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes." 
 
 " Then what do you mean by talking about riding on 
 a bay horse that you paid three hundred guineas for ? 
 
 The traveller made no reply. 
 
 "Who are you?" asked Blueskin, "tell me this 
 moment." 
 
 The traveller hesitated. 
 
 " What is your name ? " 
 
 " 'Pon honour, sir." 
 
 " That is not your name." 
 
 " 'Pon honour, no." 
 
 " Cease your foolery. What is your name, I say ? " 
 
 " Peter Grig." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 Neither Blueskin nor Jack could refrain from laughing 
 at this ludicrous name. 
 
 " Is that your real name ? " asked the former. 
 
 " 'Pon honour, yes." 
 
 " And what are you ? " 
 
 " A professor." 
 
 " Professor of what ? Answer me at once ; don't keep 
 me here waiting." 
 
 " Professor of the tonsorial art." 
 
 " Professor of the what art ? " 
 
 " Tonsorial art." 
 
 " And what art is that ? " 
 
 " In plain language ? " 
 
 " Yes, of course, and without any 'pon honour or very 
 extraordinary." 
 
 " Then the tonsorial art is the art of removing hirsute 
 appendages from the face." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Why," said Jack, *P I know what he means." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " He is a barber." 
 
 "A barber?" 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Is that the truth ? " he asked, in great disgust. 
 
 " It is so called in vulgar language ? " 
 
 "Then do you mean to say you had the infernal im. 
 pudence to sit in a rtage coach and assume the airs you 
 did, and talk in tee manner you did, when you were only 
 a barber ? " 
 
 Mr Peter Grig said never a word. 
 
 " I'l tell you what you are," said Blueskin ; " you are 
 a liar and a coward, and which predominates is more than 
 I cau tell. But you shall suffer for your foolery. Here, 
 Jack just help me, and then we will be off." 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " Just follow my example." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin whipped off the barber's hat, and 
 then stooping down, took a handful of mud from the 
 kennel, and plentifully bedaubed his face with it. 
 
 In this Jack willingly enough assisted. 
 
 Once the unfortunate barber opened his mouth, either 
 to cry out for help or else to expostulate. 
 
 But Blueskin had a handful of unsavoury mud ready, 
 and in it went. 
 
 " Come on, Jack," he said, "we will leave him now." 
 
 Accordingly they both hastened down the street, nor 
 did they pause until they were some distance from the 
 post to which the barber was tied. 
 
 " We have lost a great deal of time with him, Blue." 
 
 " We have, Jack* 
 
 " Did you ever know such a lying coward ? I really 
 thought when I was in the coach, and he told his ' extra- 
 ordinary 'pon honour ' story that I should burst." 
 
 " It was very rich. But if I had known, I should not 
 have wasted so much time as I did. I made sure he 
 would have something about him tbat would repay us for 
 our trouble." 
 
 " Well I didn't, do you know. I fancied all the time 
 the fellow would turn out to be something like he has. 
 But we have not lost so much time. The night is young 
 yet, and if he has done no more, he has afforded us some 
 amusement, and chased away some unpleasant thought? ." 
 
 " Perhaps it is as well. But let us make the best of 
 our time now. It will be late before we reach West- 
 minster." 
 
 " So it will ; but I cannot help fancying the tim< will 
 be well chosen. Just before daybreak nearly everybody 
 slumbers." 
 
 " So they do." 
 
 " How do you imagine we shall carry off the swag ? " 
 
 " I shall get a horse and cart close by the Horseferry." 
 
 " Can you trust the people ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 "Well, I shall leave that to you, but we shall be 
 obliged to have something, for if I recollect right, all 
 that I saw when I went there was heavy articles. I 
 wonder whether we shall find a cartload of those little 
 ingots of silver?" 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXI. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD MAKE A SUCCESSFUL 
 ATTACK UPON WILD'S WAREHOUSE IN THE HORSEFERRY, 
 WESTMINSTER. 
 
 " That is more than I can tell," said Blueskin, " for I 
 have not been to the place since the time when I was 
 there with you. But I hope we shall be well rewarded 
 for our risk." 
 
 " They say the third time pays for all, Blue, and I hope 
 the proverb will hold good in the present instance. It 
 will be our third adventure to-night, and the two we have 
 had have been unprofitable in the extreme." 
 
 " So they have. We are going to do a daring thing, 
 Jack. If there is anything of value in the warehouse, 
 you may trust to Wild for leaving it well guarded." 
 
 " Well, we are at Westminster now. Whereabouts ara 
 you going to find the horse and cart ? " 
 
 " Close here ; I think it is the next turning on our right 
 hand." 
 
 "This one?" 
 
 " No, the next." 
 
 They reached this corner, and then turned down it. 
 
 Blueskin halted before a public-house, or rather before 
 a gateway that adjoined it. 
 
 There was a bell-handle concealed in the door-poe^
 
 SI 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 but Blueskin knew its exact situation, so he pulled it at 
 once. 
 
 He had to wait a little while, however, before there 
 was au answer. 
 
 Then a little gate made in the larger one was thrown 
 open, and a man in the garb of an ostler appeared. 
 
 Blueskin spoke to him, and what he said appeared to 
 be quite satisfactory, for this man withdrew, and in an 
 incredibly short space of time had a horse and cart ready. 
 
 Our two friends got in, and drove off at a steady pace. 
 
 At length they came to the place of their destination. 
 
 They drew up, howe?er, at some little distance from 
 the warehouse. 
 
 Blueskin alighted, and hoppled the horse with lowe 
 links with which the ostler had provided him, so that 
 the animal could not stray away from where he was left. 
 
 The reader will no doubt remember that in the thir- 
 tieth chapter of this narrative we gave a very particular 
 account of Wild's warehouse in the Horseferry, West- 
 minster. 
 
 But there will be no harm in our repeating that the 
 place where the booty was stored was in a kind of vault 
 beneath a shed in the yard belonging to a public-house. 
 
 The sign of this public-house was the " Ship and Rain- 
 bow," and the ostensible landlord of it a man named John 
 Oaky, who, like most of those with whom the thief-taker 
 had any dealings, was wholly in Wild's power. 
 
 He then kept the public-house in whioh business was 
 carried on in a legitimate fashion, but to only a slight extent, 
 though Wild did not grumble about that. In fact, he did 
 not care how few came to the house, for fear something 
 should be discovered. 
 
 Then Oaky did not care, because he only had trouble 
 with his visitors, and he was not in any way dependent 
 upon what he took for support. 
 
 And so, at the " Ship and Rainbow," there was very 
 little done in the way of business. 
 
 On reaching the front of this house, Blueskin looked 
 np at it, and 6aw that there was not the least glimmer of 
 a light in any part. 
 
 " I think we shall find it all right," he said. " You see 
 the chief security that Wild has for this place is its 
 existence being a profound secret, and known only to 
 about three persons." 
 
 " You mean besides himself." 
 
 M Just so." 
 
 " Then I trust we shall find something worth carrying 
 off. Who is it keeps this public-house ? " 
 
 " One of Wild's men, by name John Oaky, and who is 
 entirely in his power. He could have him hanged just 
 whenever he liked." 
 
 " Does he keep a dog P" 
 
 " I think not* 
 
 "How shall we get through the gate P " 
 
 It was the gate leading into the yard by the side of the 
 public-house of which Jack spoke." 
 
 " There is only one way, I think." 
 
 " How is that ? " 
 
 " You must climb over, as you are the lightest, and 
 then let me in." 
 
 " But how is the gate fastened ? " 
 
 " Only with a wooden bar, which goes straight across 
 it." 
 
 "All right, then, I think I can manage that." 
 
 " Up you go, then." 
 
 " You are sure he does not keep a dog ? " 
 
 " I don't think he does, but you had better keep a 
 good look-out. I should not like to say for certain." 
 
 " Help me up, then." 
 
 Blueskin assisted Jack Sheppard to reach the top of 
 the gate.^ 
 
 Here, however, Jack paused a moment, and looked 
 down into the yard. 
 
 But all was quiet, and he could see nothing indicative 
 of danger. 
 
 Accordingly, he lowered himself silently and carefully 
 Into the yard. 
 
 With great suddenness, however, on reaching thr ground 
 he turned his WJi to the gate, and stood in s*. attitude 
 of defence. 
 
 This proved to be an unnecessary caution. 
 
 Finding there was nothing to dread at present, he 
 hastily took down the wooden bar, and found, ag Blueskin 
 had said, that it was the only fastening the gate had, 
 
 with the exception of a couple of bolts which he easily 
 withdrew. 
 
 The gate then swung open, and Blueskin entered. 
 
 He led the way across the yard to the door of the 
 shed. 
 
 This he knew was locked, but f?om a pocket in the 
 breast of his coat he produced a bunch of skeleton keys. 
 
 He felt these with his fingers one by one, and from 
 being familiar with the proper key, he was able to tell 
 which would answer his purpose. 
 
 He thrust one which he selected into the lock, which, 
 no less to his gratification than Jack's, yielded. 
 
 They passed through into the shed aa quickly as pos- 
 sible, and then Blueskin, removing the key from the outer 
 side of the door, locked them in. 
 
 The darkness when he had done this was most intense. 
 
 Jack did not move, but stood just where he was when 
 the door was dosed. 
 
 Blueskin's next act was to produce from his pocket a 
 dark lantern and some thieves' matches. 
 
 Let him be where he would, he always had the mate- 
 rial for procuring a light somewhere about his person. 
 
 Even when he could have told for certain that he should 
 have no occasion to make use of them, he always took 
 them in his pocket. 
 
 The interior of the shed was now illumined by a faint 
 blue light. 
 
 Then the flame from the match, having been commu- 
 nicated to the wick of the lantern, our friends were en- 
 abled to see about them. 
 
 As on the former occasion, the floor of the shed was 
 littered with straw. 
 
 Going to one particular spot, however, Blueskin re- 
 moved this straw, and then some flagstones were revealed. 
 
 His next act was to hand the lantern to Jack, while he 
 felt in his pocket for some instrument that would serve 
 to raise the 6tone which covered the top of the steps 
 leading down into the warehouse. 
 
 A simple-looking housebreaking implement, looking 
 something like a hook, did the business. 
 
 He fixed it into the crevice of the stone, and, exerting 
 all his strength, pulled it up in the fashion of a trap- 
 door. 
 
 Having done so much, both listened in order to ascer- 
 tain whether any alarm had been given, and whether any 
 sounds came from below. 
 
 But they seemed to have the place entirely to them- 
 selves, both within and without, above and below. 
 
 " It's all right, Jack, I do believe," said Blueskin, "and 
 I don't think we shall have half the trouble I thought we 
 should." 
 
 " Let us make haste, Blue. There is nothing to pre- 
 vent our descending the steps at once, is there." 
 
 " No ; but let me go first, if you please." 
 
 " No, no." 
 
 " But I say yes." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because I know the way better than you do. Just 
 descend after me carefully." 
 
 With this Blueskin went down the steps leading to the 
 warehouse, with Jack close at his heels. 
 
 On reaching the bottom of the flight of steps, which 
 were very few in number, they paused and listened again, 
 but as they heard nothing, they felt themselves endowed 
 with greater confidence, and were almost certain there 
 was no one in the subterranean passage. 
 
 They now found themselves in a small vaulted chamber. 
 
 But its appearance was very different to what it was 
 when Jack saw it before. 
 
 Then it was piled up with a large number of packages, 
 all tied up and labelled. 
 
 There were several hundred of them at least there, but 
 now there were scarcely any. 
 
 They ascertained this by Blueskin waving the light up 
 and down. 
 
 " This is just what I feared, Jack," he said. 
 
 "What?*' 
 
 " We have got into this plao8 easily, but there will b* 
 nothing worth taking away. ' 
 
 "The devil!" 
 
 "Jonathan seems to have made a general move." 
 
 " Did he always keep a large stook of things here t H 
 
 " There used to be at times." 
 
 " How did he dispose of them P "
 
 BLUXSKIN; ▲ ROMANCE, 
 
 319 
 
 ** In two ways." 
 "How?" 
 
 " Sometimes they used to be returned to the owners, 
 and at other times they used to be shipped off to Holland. 
 
 " Well, Blue, look here. As we know very well, Johnny 
 has not had much time for attending to his business lately, 
 to perhapa there has been a hi shipped off, and no Piore 
 brought to replace them ." 
 
 " That may be." 
 
 " Do not give up until you uave thoroughly searched 
 the place. It was not those packages, but some of the 
 ingots of silver I saw that we wanted. If we tako those, 
 it will be money in a small compass." 
 
 " Well, come this way, Jaok. I have my doubtd, but 
 perhaps we shall find what we want." 
 
 " As he spoke, Blueskin led the way across the empty 
 warehouse to the little recess, or smaller chamber, its which 
 the furnace was fixed. 
 
 But they felt no increase of temperature in this place. 
 It was as cold as the other, so the furnace evidently was 
 not lighted, and had not been for some time, for it always 
 left a heat in the place long after it was extinguished. 
 
 But on going to a corner near the furnace, the joy of 
 our two friends can be imagined when they saw a glittering 
 heap of the silver ingots they were so anxious to possess, 
 and looking as though they had only just been made. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXII. 
 
 JACK AND BLUESKIN DESPOIL WILD'S WAREHOUSE OF 
 THE MOST VALUABLE PORTION OF ITS CONTENTS, AND 
 AGREE TO BURY THE TREASURE. 
 
 " Here's luck, if you like, Blue," exclaimed Jack, as he 
 saw the so-much-wished-for treasure. " Here's luck." 
 
 " Yes. I can tell you it is more than I hoped to find, 
 Jack. I am very glad. Our troubles are more than half 
 over now. Why, here at least is a sum of money sufficient 
 to last you years." 
 
 " As you say, there must be ; but come, Blue, do not 
 let us waste a moment in talking. I am sure we have 
 no time to spare. You take up as many as you can 
 carry in your arms, and I will do the same. We will 
 put them down by the door of the shed, and then come 
 for more." 
 
 " Agreed, Jack. There is sound sense in that arrange- 
 ment, but you must recollect you will have to carry the 
 lantern." 
 
 " Oh ! I will see about that. You pick up some of the 
 •hiners." 
 
 In a very deliberate manner, Blueskin set to work. 
 
 The ingots were of a small size, and his first pro- 
 ceeding was to cram his pockets full of them. 
 
 Then he got as many in his hands and arms as he could 
 possibly carry. 
 
 Then Jack took up some, and both staggered up the 
 steps. 
 
 Then, having deposited their precious burden close to 
 the door of the shed, they descended again. 
 
 This operation they continued several times, until they 
 had removed nearly all the ingots. 
 
 Then, as they had got about six times as much as they 
 really wanted, they determined not to fetch any more. 
 
 Besides, time was speeding on. 
 
 " I have a mind to bring the horse and cart quietly into 
 the yard, Jack, and load it. Think of the time and 
 trouble it will save." 
 
 " Oh ! I should say do it, by all means." 
 
 "Very W9ll. We can close the outer gate when we get 
 it inside, and then if any one goes by, there won't seem 
 to be anything amiss." 
 
 This being agreed to, Blueskin unlocked the door of the 
 shed, and our two friends cautiously emerged into the 
 yard. 
 
 All was still silent. 
 
 There was not the least indication of an alarm having 
 been given. 
 
 But, npon looking up to the sky, they saw that it was 
 beginning to change colour, and to rapidly grow lighter. 
 
 " We must make haste, Blue," said Jack 5 ''or we shall 
 have daylight upon us before we finish." 
 
 " We shall, indeed ; the dawn is much closer at hand 
 than I should have thought." 
 
 " It has beeu a busy night, and I must say I sm be- 
 ginning to grow tired." 
 
 " Never mind that. You hold the gate open, and I will 
 go and fetch the horse and cart." 
 
 Jaci: held the gate open as he had been requested. 
 
 Elaeskin, owing to the precaution he had taken, found 
 the horse and cart just where he had left it. 
 
 Untying the animal's legs, he took him by the bridle, 
 and, as silently as he could, walked him into the yard. 
 
 No sooner were they fairly inside than Jack closed the 
 gate. 
 
 The cart was drawn close up to the shed, and the ingots 
 of silver loaded into it with speed and silence. 
 
 At length all were safely in. 
 
 Then, as before, Jack held open the yard gate, and led 
 the horse out into the street. 
 
 The instant that this was done, both scrambled into the 
 cart, and Blueskin, taking the reins, drove off at a rapid 
 pace. 
 
 " We may think ourselves most lucky," said the latter j 
 " we have got away, you see, without raising the least 
 alarm, and with ten times as much booty as I expected." 
 
 " Fortune favours us ; but now, Blue, having got the 
 money, there arises another rather important question." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " Why, where we are to dispose of it, until such time as 
 we may want to make use of it." 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "Nor I." 
 
 " Suppose we were to take it to Tumposka's ? '' 
 
 "Trust a Jew with it?" 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 " I am sure it would be safe." 
 
 " Well, it might be, and I don't say it would not, but I 
 should not rest while he had it. No, Blue, you must 
 think of some other place where we can keep it." 
 
 " That will be a difficult matter, and the worst of it ia 
 we have very little time to decide, for see, it is getting 
 daylight already." 
 
 " So it is. But some place must be thought of. We 
 can't carry all that lot about in our pookets, it is not 
 likely." 
 
 " I never for a moment thought it. Can't you suggest 
 anything ? I know you are fertile in expedients, Jack. ' 
 
 " Which way are you going ? " 
 
 " I was making straight for Tumposki's." 
 
 " I thought so. Now, I'll tell you what would do better 
 than that. 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Why, turn the horse's head round, and drive to some 
 of the fields on the river-side below Chelsea. You will 
 find there lots of lonely, rarely-visited spots, and I think 
 the best thing we could do would be to bury the silver 
 there." 
 
 " Well, I daresay it would be safe." 
 
 " It would, anrf I should recommend you to bury it in 
 small portions, which would diminish the chances of dis- 
 covery, and we could fetch a little just as we wanted it, 
 and turn it into guineas by degrees." 
 
 " Well, I'll turn the horse, and do as you say." 
 
 " I think there cannot be two opinions about it being 
 the best plan we could adopt." 
 
 " We shall be late." 
 
 " We shall, and yet we shall reach there almost before 
 sunrise." 
 
 " I don't doubt that." 
 
 " Then, about those desolate places we are not likely to 
 find any one at that early hour, and besides, the mist off 
 the water will serve as an excellent screen to hide us." 
 
 " You have laid hold of the right idea, Jack, but, as you 
 say, the money must certainly be buried in small quanti- 
 ties in different places, so that if one is found, which ia 
 not at all unlikely, we shall not lose the lot." 
 
 " That is just what I thought." 
 
 " (2ome on, then." 
 
 Blueskin, as soon as Jack had made up his mind, had 
 turned the horse round, and drove in the direction of 
 which he spoke, of course taking care not to pass near 
 the Horseferry. 
 
 On reaching Chelsea, about the spot wnere the hospital 
 now stands, the character of tho place fully bore out the 
 description which Jack had given of it. 
 
 The numerous low-lying fields, then nowhere near any 
 buildings, were covered with a dense white mist, which 
 made it impossible for them to see fax before them.
 
 320 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 But finding the road good, they still drove on, and 
 passed the foot of Battersea-bridge. 
 
 The further they proceeded, the denser grew the mist. 
 It was, too, very cold, and settled upon then? in large 
 drops of moisture. 
 
 But it was in places scarcely so high as it had been, 
 being densest nearest the ground, so that when Jack 
 stood up in the cart he was able to see tolerably well 
 about him, and direct his companion where to drive. 
 
 " Blue," he said, " it has just struck me that some- 
 where about here there is a clump of trees which -rtretck 
 right down to the water's edge. Now, don't you think 
 that would make a good hiding-place." 
 
 " I do ; and moreover, if we had the treasure not far 
 from the river's side, we could row down here some dark 
 night, and carrv a quantity away in the boat and dispose 
 of it." 
 
 " Capital. The place must be somewhere close here. 
 Drive carefully. I see it just before us. Pull up now." 
 
 Blueskin pulled up, and then stood up in the cart to see 
 that his young comrade was not mistaken. 
 
 Through the upper stratum of the mist he could just 
 define a mass of something dark. 
 
 " We won't drive too close up to the place, Blue, for 
 fear of leaving a trace." 
 
 " H_ow shall you manage then ? " 
 
 " Why, I will stand here with the horse and cart, 
 while you load yourself with as many of the ingots as 
 you can conveniently carry. Then, when you return 
 from baving placed them somewhere among the trees, you 
 can stand by the horse while I take a load, and so do it 
 by turns." 
 
 " Very well, that will do ; at least, I will carry the lot, 
 or how will you know where to take them to ? " 
 
 " Just as you like." 
 
 Jack then loaded Blueskin with a great many ingots, 
 who started off while he stood there on guard. 
 
 Blueskin was absent some moments, but when he re- 
 turned he said — 
 
 " I shan't be so long next time ; I had to fix upon a 
 place, you know, and to take notice where I was going." 
 
 Away he went with load number two, and he continued 
 this process till the whole had been transferred to the 
 wood. 
 
 " There seems to be no people about ; I have not heard 
 a, sound or seen a thing all the time." 
 
 " So much the better, then." 
 
 " Just so ; and I think it would be quite safe if we were 
 to leave the horse and cart here." 
 
 " I should not leave them in the road. If you go a 
 little further you will come to a gate leading into the 
 fields. We will lead the horse in there." 
 
 " That will do." 
 
 Blueskin led the way to the gate he spoke of, and Jack, 
 taking the horse by the bridle, followed. 
 
 The gate was not fastened in any way, so they swung 
 it open, and passed in without difficulty. 
 
 The links with which the horses two fore legs had pre- 
 viously been fastened were again produced, and the 
 animal having been secured, they made the best of their 
 way to the wood. 
 
 There were now some very unequivocal symptoms of 
 the sun making his appearance and dispersing the mist. 
 
 Still they thought they should have time, before any 
 one came to the spot, to do what they wished. 
 
 Just as they were passing out of the gate, Jack struck 
 his foot against something, which fell with a clattering 
 sound to the ground. 
 
 He would have paid no further attention to it, however, 
 if his companion had not asked — 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 Jack stooped to see, and then he cried — 
 
 " More luck ! fortune is on our side at last ! It is a 
 spade ! \/hat in the world should we have done without 
 one?" 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SIIEPPARD TAKB LODGINGS IN 
 NEWGATE-STREET, NEXT DOOR TO JONATHAN WILD'S. 
 
 Just at that moment so simple a thing as a spade was a 
 valuable acquisition to our two friends, for without one 
 they wouTfl have found their task of burying the treasure 
 both tiresome and laborious. 
 
 With a lighter heart than he had had in his bosom for 
 many a long day, Jack shouldered the spade and followed 
 Blueskin to the wood with a quick step. 
 
 The little clump of trees, however, which grew upon 
 the margin of the river was scarcely worthy of being 
 dignified with the name of wood, but still, for want of a 
 better appellation, we must so designate it. 
 
 Blueskin had deposited the ingots of silver in one heap, 
 and so close to the river that they had already begun to 
 sink in the soft earth. 
 
 We need not linger over this portion of our narrative. 
 Let it suffice for us to say that, with the aid of their 
 spade, they, in about an hour buried all the ingots, with 
 the exception of four, two of which were carried by Jack 
 and two by Blueskin. 
 
 In accordance with the arrangement they had made, 
 the ingots were not buried in one heap. 
 
 Indeed, they even went so far as to dig a hole for each 
 ingot, of which there were in all thirty-seven. 
 
 By the time they had finished, however, the sun had 
 attained a «. ^isiderable altitude, and the mist had been 
 wholly dispersed. 
 
 But, to the best of their knowledge, they had not been 
 seen in what they were about by any living creature. For 
 certain they had not been in any way disturbed in what 
 they were about. 
 
 Going forth into the lane, they were pleased to find the 
 place still preserved its solitary and desolate character. 
 
 " Now, Jack," said Blueskin, " what is to be done next ? 
 We must be uncommonly careful, bear in mind, for 
 Jonathan Wild won't be long before he hears of his loss, 
 and he will set it down to us directly." 
 
 " He can't know of it yet, Blue ; and there can't be 
 many people astir yet. I think the best thing to do will 
 be to get into the cart and drive straight back to 
 Tumposki's, in Seven Dials, if you think we can make 
 sure of shelter there." 
 
 " But that will be a very bold and hazardous proceeding, 
 Jack." 
 
 " What, to drive through London ? " 
 
 " In broad daylight ! " 
 
 " Not a bit of it. You may depend if we get into the 
 cart, and drive along like ordinary people, taking no 
 notice of anybody or anything, nobody will take notice 
 of us." 
 
 " I don't know that, Jack." 
 
 " Well, let us try it." 
 
 " I don't mind if you don't, of course, but still capture, 
 now that we have succeeded so well, would be uncommonly 
 vexatious." 
 
 " I admit that. But do you know I don't think we shall 
 run into much danger. In the first place, it will be such 
 a bold and daring thing to do that no one would believe 
 we had the courage to attempt it." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " Get the cart out of the field, and let us start at once, 
 and get to our journey's end as soon as possible." 
 
 The cart was got out into the lane, and our two friends 
 entered it and drove back to London. 
 
 They tried their best to carry out the plan which Jack 
 had mentioned, though neither of them could altogether 
 forbear from casting furtive glances around them when 
 they fairly got into London. 
 
 However, with a boldness which no one could help 
 admiring, they took their course in a direct line and 
 through the principal thoroughfares to their destination. 
 
 But in this to a great extent lay the secret of their 
 success. * 
 
 Without any mischance happening to them whatever, 
 they arrived at the door of the Jew's house in Little Earl 
 street, Seven Dials. 
 
 They had evidently been watched for and expected, for 
 no sooner had they brought their vehicle to a standstill 
 than the door was opened, and Tumposki appeared upon 
 the threshold. 
 
 Our two friends were out with marvellous celerity, and 
 ran i&to the house. 
 
 Ther« was a boy standing in the passage, and he ran 
 out to take charge of the horse. 
 
 " Don't ask any questions, Aaron," said Blueskin, 
 observing the look of astonishment which was depicted 
 upon the Israelite's countenance ; " but tell me, is thai 
 boy who has just run out capable of driving a horse P w 
 
 " Oh ! dear, yes,"
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 ''321 
 
 [BLUESKIN, JACK SHEPPAKD, AND EDGWOKTII BESS HIDE FHOM WILD IN THE CATHEDRAL.] 
 
 " Then call him inside a moment, and I will tell him 
 where I want the horse and cart taken." 
 
 The Jew did as he was desired, and then Blueskin gave 
 the boy the required directions. 
 
 As soon as he had departed, the Jew led our two friends 
 into the sitting-room where their preceding interview had 
 taken place. 
 
 Jack then entered into an account of the various 
 incidents which had befallen them since they last saw 
 each other, and concluded with the production of the four 
 ingots of silver. 
 
 They were not, however, very candid with him. 
 
 Jack judged it would bo best not to be. 
 
 For instance, he did not tell him from whence the silver 
 had bean taken. 
 
 Nor did he tell him that they had any more than what 
 they placed upon the table. 
 
 " Now, Aaron," said Jack, " look at those, and tell me 
 what you think of them." 
 
 The Jew's eyes glistened as he estimated the weight of 
 the ingots by balancing them in his hand. 
 
 " Now we want, of course, to turn them into money, 
 and we trust to you to give us as much as you can 
 for them without reserving an extravagant profit to 
 yourself. We will settle with you for the rest after- 
 wards." 
 
 " Be honest with us," Blueskin. " If you are you will 
 find it the best policy in the long run." 
 
 " I will be honest with you," said the Jew, " and give 
 you a fair price for the silver. Wait a moment, and I 
 will fetch my scales." 
 
 The scales were in a cupboard close at hand, so they 
 were soon produced. 
 
 Then, with scrupulous care, Tumposki proceeded to 
 weigh each ingot. 
 
 The weight of each he put down on a piece of paper, in 
 characters intelligible to no one but himself. 
 
 Then he added the whole up. 
 
 Fo. 41.
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOMANCE 
 
 " How much can you give P " asked Jack, who was 
 ©agar and impatient to arrive at the ro3ult." 
 
 " They do not weigh just the same each," said the .Tow, 
 " although the difference is slight I can give you forty- 
 eight pounds for the four, and, if you will believe me, 
 that is almost their full value." 
 
 " Say fifty," cried Jack, while he rapidly divided the 
 whole number of ingots by four and multiplied them by 
 fifty, in order to got at the total value of the whole. 
 No ; I can only say forty-eight." 
 
 " Tbat is twelve pounds each," said Blueskin. 
 
 " Just so ; and I should not say so little as that, only I 
 thought it would induce you to be liboral with me." 
 
 " Well, give us ten pounds each, and keep the remain- 
 der on account. You shall have nothing to complain of 
 from us on the score of liberality." 
 
 This matter being thus adjusted, a meal was brought in, 
 and while tbey were discussing it, Blueskin spoke to the 
 old Jew as follows — 
 
 " Aaron, we want you to render us a service — a very 
 important service, and yet an easy one. Will you do 
 it?" 
 
 " Of course I will." 
 
 " That's hearty. Now listen to me." 
 
 " I am all attention." 
 
 "As I daresay you know, there is, next door to Jona- 
 than Wild's house in Newgate-street, a house which is let 
 out in lodgings." 
 
 " I did not know it, but I daresay there is, as you say 
 so." 
 
 " Well, this house is occupied by a shoemaker, who 
 keeps the ground floor, and lets all the rest of the house 
 to lodgers." 
 
 The Jew nodded. 
 
 " They are always having changes in their tenants, so 
 I want you to go there at once and ascertain whether 
 they have one of their top at'.ics to let." 
 I understand." 
 
 " Mind yon, no other room than one next to the roof, 
 and with a window opening on to the tiles will answer my 
 purpose. Do you understand that ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 "Well, then, if there should be, and I think it very 
 likely, you will please take that room for Jack and myself, 
 without, of course, saying who we are. You can call us 
 Mr. Jones ar.c Mr. Smith." 
 
 " But you <tcr.'t mean lo say yon are going to take 
 apartments next door to Jonathan Wild's ? " 
 
 " Yes we are, but never you mind that. If you quite 
 understand what we want, be good enough to oblige us 
 by setting off at once. If they want any reference, you 
 can pay them a guinea on account." 
 
 " All right. If there is an attic to let in the house you 
 mention, I will take it." 
 
 " Do so." 
 
 " But how if there is not ? " 
 
 " Try all the other houses on that side of Warwick-lane, 
 though I should much prefer the one I mentioned, if yon 
 can manage it." 
 
 " I am off now. Here are the ten pounds each you 
 asked for, and the remainder is to go on account. You 
 must remember I was responsible for the two horses you 
 have lost." 
 
 " Yes, I know all about that, and if you will serve us 
 faithfully, I will take care that you are not a loser 
 by it." 
 
 The Jew, a few minutes afterwards, sot out upon his 
 errand, and Jack and Blueskiu, who were both much 
 fatigued, repaired to the room they had previously occu- 
 pied, and endeavoured to obtain a few hours' rest and 
 sleep. 
 
 Not only did they stand in immediate need of N ooth on 
 the score of exhaustion, but they felt that in all probability 
 they would have a hard and harassing night's work to 
 do, and whmi they should have another chance as good as 
 the present was very problematical. 
 
 They had not to woo slumber long. It soon came to 
 them. 
 
 When they awoke, the Jew was standing at their 
 bedside. 
 
 " What is the result of your errand ? " cried Blueskin. 
 "Tell ino at once. Do not keep us in suspense." 
 
 14 Success." 
 
 " You have met with success P " 
 
 " Yes, the back attic in the shoemaker's house is to let." 
 
 " Was to let, you mean ? " 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 "And you have taken it for Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones?" 
 
 " Yea." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXIV. 
 
 OUft S'50 FRIENDS DEPART UTON THEIE PERIL0U8 
 KXPKDITON. 
 
 "Bravo, Aaron," said Blueskin, leaping off the bed 
 upon which he had thrown himself, without removing 
 any of his apparel. " Let us hear the whole of the story 
 from beginning to end." 
 
 "Very well," replied Tumposki. " I went from here 
 straight to Newgate-street, and next door to Jonathan 
 Wild's I found the shoemaker's, as you described." 
 
 " Did you look up at Jonathan's house ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Did you se8 anything ? " 
 
 " Nothing unusual. The door was closed." 
 
 " Go on about the shoemaker," said Blueskin. M That 
 is what I want to hear most." 
 
 " I found the front door open." 
 
 " It always is." 
 
 " I knocked, and presently the landlord made his 
 appearance. I told him what I wanted, and he said 
 ' Yes, some people that had lived in his top back-attio had 
 moved yesterday.' I asked to see the place, so he took 
 me up an endless lot of stairs, until at last, passing 
 through a door, we stood in a little bit of a place that 
 could not be called a room." 
 
 " Never mind what it could be called," said Blueskin. 
 " Had it got a window opening on to the tiles ? " 
 
 "Oh! yes." 
 
 " That is everything, then." 
 
 " I thought the place would suit you, so I asked how 
 much the rent was, and he told mo two shillings a-week." 
 
 " Did ho ask for any references ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I told him that the two gentlemen w no 
 were about to take it would only want to occupy jt 
 occasionally, and that they had commissioned me, i 
 felt any scruples about the mattor, to pay him ten wf he 
 in advance." eeks 
 
 " What did he say then ?" 
 
 " Oh ! that removed all difficulty, and I gave him a 
 guinea, telling him to keep the extra shilling to drink 
 your health." 
 
 " You told him we should want to come to-night." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Did he make any objection P " 
 
 "None whatever." 
 
 " What is about the time ? " 
 
 " Noon." 
 
 " Very well'; we shall not want to go till dusk, so you 
 will please let us slay where we are until then." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " We want to have as much sleep as we can, for I have 
 no idea when we shall get another chance." 
 
 " When shall I call you ?" 
 
 " Just about sunset. We will then come down, have 
 something to cat, and start off." 
 
 " £f course, it is nothing to me," said the Jew ; " but 
 I think you will be running into very great danger by 
 going to Newgate-street. You are a couple of dp.yi.vg 
 chaps, I know; but still I think you ought to use a little 
 discretion." 
 
 " Trust to us," said Blueskin ; "our plans are carefully 
 matured, and the danger we shall incur will not be half 
 so much as you seem to think." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it." 
 
 " Leave us now, aud rest assured that to-night we shall 
 strike such a blow at Jonathan Wild that he will scarcely 
 be able to recover from it." 
 
 The Jew's eyes glittered, and rubbing his hands briskly 
 together, ho said — 
 
 " Let me see you do that — let me see you do that, and , 
 I will cheerfully assist you in any way that lies in my 
 power. If you want money to carry out the enterpriza 
 against him, call upon mo. I would give you the last 
 shekel I possessed." 
 
 "Make your minCl easy," said Jack; " you must know 
 that whenever I msie up my mind to do a thing I always
 
 BLUXSKIX: A ROMAKCB, 
 
 323 
 
 do it. Now I have made up my mind to hang Jonathan 
 Wild at Tyburn, and yon mark my words if I don't." 
 
 " That would bo brave — brave, indeed." 
 
 " Leave us, then, and think it over. You may depend 
 it will be done." 
 
 The old Jew left the room, and then Jack, turning to 
 hie comrade, said — 
 
 " You told the old Jew just now that all our plana were 
 matured." 
 
 " I know I did, and so they aro." 
 
 " I dou't doubt that, but you forget I do not share in 
 them, nor do I know what you intend to do, except that 
 I can guess why you have taken tho tcp attic in the house 
 next to Jonathan Wild's." 
 
 "Haven't I told you?" 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then I thought I had. However, I will give you my 
 plan of operations in a very few words." 
 
 " Do so, and then I shall be able to rest all tha better." 
 
 " Well, my plan is simply this. To-night we go to this 
 bouso next to Wild's, and enter upon the occupation of 
 (he attic." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " The first thing we shall do will be to climb out of the 
 window on to the roof, and from thence on to the roof of 
 Wild's house." 
 
 " That is just what I thought." 
 
 " I n the roof of this there is, to my knowledge, a trap- 
 door." 
 
 " And to mine," said Jack, " for I once raised it and got 
 through." 
 
 " 1 intend for you to do the same thing again." 
 
 " Let us hear the arrangements you have made." 
 
 " 1 agreed with Steggs, then, that I would tap on this 
 trap-door in a certain manner. If Wild was out, and the 
 coast perfectly clear, he would unfasten it, for it is now 
 always kept bolted. If Wild was there, and it was 
 dangerous lor us to enter, he should take no uotice, and 
 wc should have to wait." 
 
 I " Good, that is a most excellent arrangement, provided 
 aUxn.va that Steggs does not play us false." 
 
 " 1 don't think you need fear that." 
 
 " 1 hope he will not." 
 
 " So do 1." 
 
 "If he took it into his head to betray us to Jonathan, 
 wo should be very awkwardly situated indeed." 
 
 " I fancy he hates the thief-taker too cordially for that. 
 You must remember he has treated him very badly." 
 
 " He has." 
 
 " And Steggs is a man of a most vindictive character." 
 
 " That is a good deal." 
 
 " But we must run the risk of that. Let me tell you 
 the remainder of my plans." 
 
 " Yes, do." 
 
 " Should the coast be quite clear, and Steggs unbolts 
 the door, I shall remain upon the roofs to keep watch 
 and ward, while you will descend through the trap-door, 
 and make your way to the room where Edgworth Bess is 
 confined." 
 
 " Go on, go od." 
 
 " With all the speed possible you will make her ac- 
 quainted with what you intend to do, and then bring her 
 to the trap-door. I shall be above, and will assist her on 
 to tho roofs ; you will follow, and Steggs, if he thinks 
 proper." 
 
 " It is a capital plan." 
 
 " Do you think it likely to succeed ? " 
 
 " I think it certain to do so, if Jonathan is from 
 home." 
 
 " So do I ; and as for that, Steggs will be able to tell 
 us of it. When you are all fairly on the roof, the trap-door 
 will be closed, and we shall make our way into tho attic, 
 and thence into the street." 
 
 "What then?" 
 
 " The next thing will be instant and immediate fiignt. 
 The treasure must be unburied, and we must maka the 
 best of our way out of England, and not return until 
 Edgworth Bess has passed her twenty -first birthday." 
 
 Jack clasped Blueskin by the hand. 
 
 " I think I can see the end of all that wo have endured. 
 Happiness, old friend, is in store for ue, I feel sure of 
 that> 
 
 " I trust no, Jack." 
 
 " Oh ! I feel sure of it — quite sure. But stay ; there 
 is something in your plans whieh you have omitted." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " When we descend from the attic and make our way 
 into Newgate-street, where shall we betake ourselves ? " 
 
 " I hardly know, Jack, where we ought to go first." 
 
 "And how shall we escape — on foot ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 "But if Wild pursues us ? " 
 
 " I am in hopes he will not." 
 
 " But we must provide for the possibility of hia domg 
 so." 
 
 " It would be wisest." 
 
 "Of course it wouhl." 
 
 "What should we do?" 
 
 " I leave that to you." 
 
 " I do not want to excite suspicion. Now, if we had a 
 vehicle of any sort waiting in Newgate-street, it will bo 
 sure to attract attention." 
 
 " Then which way are we to take to leave Englaud?" 
 
 " You shall yourself decide." 
 
 " Shall we go to Holland or to France P " 
 
 " Just as you please." 
 
 " I should say France." 
 
 " Very well.'' 
 
 " Then, as for the route, I should say take the most 
 unfrequented one you can find, and embark from somo 
 obscure port." . 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " If we were to go to Dover, or anywhere there, 
 Jonathan would be down upon us directly. 
 
 " Unquestionably." 
 
 " I think Edgworth Bess can ride." 
 
 "What of that?" 
 
 " Suppose we were to have three horses saddled, and 
 kept waiting for us, not necessarily in Newgate-street, 
 but somewhere close at hand ? " 
 
 " That might be done." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, and then we should at least stand a chance 
 of making our escape, even if Jonathan Wild should 
 pursue us." 
 
 " Let it be so, then, and consider that all our arrange- 
 ments are finally settled." 
 
 " I think they are." 
 
 " And now, get all the sleep you can, and so be able to 
 endure fatigue, for it strikes me it will be a long tiruo 
 befoie you will have any rest." 
 
 " 1 fear so." 
 
 Blueskin did not reply. 
 
 He was more weary and more in need of sleep than his 
 younger and more active companion. 
 
 But in a little while both slumbered, nor did they 
 awake until just dusk. In accordance with the arrange- 
 ment made, the old Jew came into tho room to wake 
 them. 
 
 They started up hastily and went down, where they eat 
 heartily, as men only can eat who do not know when food 
 will pass their lips again. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN TAKE POSSESSION OF 
 THEIR LODGINGS. 
 
 Instructions were given to Aaron Tumposki to have 
 three saddle-horses waiting just round the corner of 
 Warwick-lane, one of which was, of course, to be furnished 
 with a side-saddle. 
 
 Then, these arrangements having been made, and as the 
 streets were quite dark, our friends, well and fully armed, 
 with their hearts nerved with courage, and their muscles 
 strung for action, set out upon their perilous excursion. 
 
 To reach the place of their destination, however, they 
 made a considerable detour, getting into Newgate-street, 
 in fact, not from the Skinner-street, but St. Martui's-le- 
 Grand end. 
 
 The street was dark and tolerably full of people. 
 
 But unheeding them, our two friends made their way to 
 »le house we have so often mentioned. 
 
 Upon reaching it, as a matter of course, they found the 
 front door wide open, and, as another matter of course, 
 tho shoemaker was standing on his doorstep, gazing at 
 the passers by in the street. . 
 
 In fact, his shoemaking business was a mere blind. Tht
 
 324 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 fellow wau idle, and he made enough out of his lodgers not 
 only to pay the rent, hut to keep his wife and children. 
 
 Consequently, early and late he was to be seen there 
 adorning the doorway. 
 
 It would seem as though ho had been on the look-out 
 for his new lodgers. Doubtless, the fact of their having 
 paid so long in advance roused his curiosity. _ 
 
 Now, neither Jack nor Blueskin wished him to peruse 
 their countenances, so affecting to take no notice, they 
 brushed past him into the passage, which was Tory dark. 
 
 Jack spoke, for Blueskin feared that this man might 
 know the tones of his voice. 
 
 " Where is the landlord ? " he asked. 
 
 "Who are you?" asked the shoemaker, trying iu vain 
 to pierce the gloom and obtain a glimpse of bis lodgers' 
 countenances. 
 
 " We are Jones and Smith," said Jack, " and have 
 come to take possession of the attic which our friend took 
 for us." 
 
 " Oh ! indeed gentlenaen ; very well ; of course. I will 
 show you the way upstairs. Wife ! wife ! " 
 
 " Well," cried a sharp, acei-b voice, " what now ? " 
 
 "A light, to show the gentlemen upstairs." 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and then, from the lower 
 regions of the house, there came the faint flashing of a 
 light. 
 
 The shoemaker stepped forward and took a candle out 
 c? his wife's hand before she could get up to the top of 
 the kitchen stairs. 
 
 " This way," he said, " this way," holding the light as 
 high above his head as he could, in the endeavour to ob- 
 tain a glimpse of his visitors. 
 
 But both had their hats drawn so close down over their 
 brows, and the candle itself gave out such an insufficient 
 light, that he was able to see little or nothing." 
 
 Besides which Jack said rapidly — 
 
 " Lead the way upstairs ; make haste, because we have 
 no time to spare." 
 
 The shoemaker had no resource but to obey, so up he 
 went, without his curiosity being gratified. 
 
 The stairs did, indeed, seem endless, but at length the 
 top of them was reached, and they were ushered into the 
 attic. 
 
 " Leave the candle," said Jack, taking it out of the 
 landlord's hand as he spoke, and shutting the door in his 
 face. 
 
 Very indignantly the shoemaker stumped downstairs, 
 and poured out his sorrows to his wife. 
 
 "Ah!" said she, in an oracular tone of voice, "that 
 " suvcrin means something." 
 
 " But what ? " 
 
 " Something is going to happen ; mark my words, if 
 there isn't." 
 
 And this was all that could be elicited. 
 
 But leaving the landlord of the lodging-house and his 
 wife, we will turn our attention to the proceedings of 
 others in whom the reader must feel a much greater 
 amount of interest. 
 
 No sooner was the door closed than Jack Sheppardshot 
 n bolt into its socket. 
 
 He would have turned the key in the lock if there had 
 been one. 
 
 But from that quarter they did not anticipate any in- 
 terruption. 
 
 The attic was unfurnished, and the only place where 
 they could put the candle was on the chimney-piece. 
 
 Our two friends then went to the window. 
 
 It was a small one, and opened upon two hinges like a 
 door. 
 
 It was most convenient for their purpose. 
 
 Jack opened it, and crawled out on to the tiles. 
 
 He was quickly followed by Blueskin. 
 
 The night, like the preceding one, was a Tery dark one. 
 
 There was no moon, and not even a solitary star could 
 be seen in the whole sky. 
 
 From the window the roof sloped down to a kind of a 
 parapet, which was about eighteen inches high. 
 
 Our friends had to lower themselves down to this, and 
 then stood in the gutter. 
 
 It was full of mud and water, but they could walk 
 along without much trouble, and in a few minutes, by 
 Continuing in a westerly direction, they got fairly on to 
 the roel' of Wild's house. 
 
 The locality of the trapdoor was of cottree well known 
 
 to Blueskin and Jack. To the former from his residence 
 with the thief-taker, and to the latter because he had 
 once on a memorable occasion made his way through it. 
 
 On reaching it they crouched down on the tiles and 
 listened. 
 
 But all was profoundly still. 
 
 Blueskin took his clasp-knife, and with the horn handle 
 of it struck the trap-door in a peculiar manner. 
 
 Then he waited with patience for a response. 
 
 More than five minutes elapsed before it came. 
 
 That fleeting space of time seemed lengthened into 
 half-au-hour by the waiters on the roof-top. 
 
 Then the welcome sound came to their cara of the 
 withdrawal of a bolt. 
 
 It was followed by another similar sound, and then the 
 trap-door was slowly raised. 
 
 Seeing this, Blueskin took hold of the edge of it and 
 raised it up. 
 
 The moment he did so Steggs put his head through the 
 aperture. 
 
 A scared look was on his face. 
 
 "Where is Wild?" Blueskin asked, without allowing 
 him an opportunity to speak. 
 
 " Out ! Can it be possible you are here ? " 
 
 " Yes, why not ? " 
 
 " Jonathan is like a maniac. He has learned from some 
 one that you broke into his warehouse in the Horseferrv, 
 and took away six hundred pounds worth of silver ingots." 
 
 "Well, what of that." 
 
 " He has gone there determined to hunt you down. He 
 will track you, he says, until he runs you to earth." 
 
 " Bho ! pho ! Don't pay any attention to what he Bays. 
 It's all rubbish. He has not got us, you see, and yet here 
 we are on the top of his own house." 
 
 " I don't know how soon he may return." 
 
 " Never mind ! We have made up our minds to tako 
 Edgworth Bess away this very night. It won't be safe for 
 her to stay here any longer. You had better come too." 
 
 " You had better not try to-night." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Wild is so awfully savage." 
 
 " I know that," replied Blueskin, "and fully expected 
 he would be, and that is why I thought to-night would be 
 the best to achieve our purpose. But we are wasting time 
 by talking here, and I am quite certain we have not a 
 moment to spare. I shall keep watch here on the roofs ; 
 you keep guard on the stairs j Jack will descend and speak 
 to Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " Come on, then, since you will have it so, though I 
 should advise you to wait. The girl is quite safe where 
 she is, and I will answer that no harm comes to her 
 Besides, while she is here, Jonathan is more at rest." 
 
 " It cannot be helped, Steggs. Wo have made up our 
 minds to take her away, and all our arrangements are 
 completed." 
 
 " I shall have to leave with you." 
 
 " So much the better." 
 
 " To remain in my present situation after she is gone 
 would only be casting away my life." 
 
 " We cannot stay to unfold our plans now, Steggs, but 
 you shall hear them shortly, and when they are made 
 known to you, I am sure they will meet with your 
 approval." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 Steggs and Jack did not speak to each other, and there 
 was a certain feeling of hostility between them that not 
 even the present meeting could remove. 
 
 The latter, however, as soon as Steggs descended the 
 ladder, by the aid of which he had reached the trap-door, 
 followed him, and also down the attic stairs to the landing 
 from which the door opened that led into the chamber 
 where Edgworth Bess was confined. 
 
 Steggs, however, went to the head of the next flight of 
 stairs and listened, but as he heard nothing suspicious, he 
 waved his hand to Jack to stand aside while he entered 
 the room and told Bess who was waiting for her, in order 
 that in her surprise at seeing him she should not give vent 
 to it in a cry which should alarm the house. 
 
 In the meanwhile, Jack, with a beating heart, stood on 
 the landing listening for anything that might indicate the 
 coming of his foes. 
 
 But in the thief-taker's house all was silent. 
 
 In fact, if Jack had known it, there could not hav« baea 
 any moment more propitious than the presenti
 
 BLUESKIN : A. ROMANCE. 
 
 325 
 
 The only persons now in the thief-taker's residence were 
 Tonics and one of the band. 
 
 These two were both on duty. 
 
 One was on the lock at the front door. 
 
 The other on guard at tho grating lending to the cells. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had been out some hours. 
 
 When tho inlelligence was brought to him that his 
 warehouse in Westminster had been broken into aud 
 robbed, ho did not require any one to tell him who were 
 the thieves. 
 
 The existence of the place was ku own to but few persons, 
 and thero were fewer still who could have found their way 
 into it. 
 
 Uttering the most awful curses that any one could con- 
 ceive, Jonathan Wild had called his men together and rode 
 to the Horseferry. 
 
 His determination was this. 
 
 When he arrived he would look all around for some clue 
 as to the route taken by the robbers, and then, having 
 once got upon the track, to follow it up, step by step, until 
 he had them in his power. 
 
 But the mere relation of Jack's and Blueskin's adven- 
 tures is enough to show that at present he had not suc- 
 ceeded in coming up with them. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD'S HAITINESS IS OF SHORT DURATION. 
 
 With a slow and steady step, and a look of extreme 
 apprehension upon his face, Steggs came out of Edgworth 
 Bess's room, and crossed the landing to where Jack stood. 
 
 "Enter," he said, "and bo quick. Jonathan may 
 return at any moment, and then all will be lost." 
 
 Jack Sheppard did not wait to hear the rest of this 
 admonitory sentence, but hurried to the door. 
 
 It was partly closed. 
 
 He tapped upon the panel, and entered. 
 
 Then his ears were greeted with a faint but fervent cry 
 of welcome. 
 
 Almost blind with emotion, he staggered forward, and 
 through a kiud of mist be caught sight of the form of she 
 whom he loved better than all the world. 
 
 Then the next moment he felt her arms twined round 
 his neck and her head upon his shoulder. 
 
 " Oh ! Jack — Jack ! You have come at last. I have for 
 eo long wished and expected you. You have come to save 
 mo, Jack, have you not ? You will take me away from 
 this hateful and terrible place— out of Jonathan Wild's 
 power ? Oh ! Jack, I am so very glad to see you." 
 
 What Jack's feelings were at this moment no one could 
 possibly tell. 
 
 He was in a kind of delirium, and scarcely conscious 
 whether what was taking place was real or a distempered 
 vision. 
 
 His heart swelled. 
 
 The sensation of joy which he experienced almost over- 
 came him. 
 
 Loving her as he did, it was unspeakable rapture to hear 
 her softly-uttered words and feel her arms around his 
 neck. 
 
 Was he loved in return ? 
 
 Could it be possible that she had for him similar feel- 
 ings to those which he had in his breast for her. 
 
 He fancied so now. 
 
 It was not in his power to resist the influence which this 
 feeling had over him. 
 
 Upon an impulse which he could not have controlled 
 had instant death been the penalty of its gratification, 
 he placed his arms around her slender form, and pressed 
 her ardently against his breast. 
 
 At that moment he forgot the purport of the conversa- 
 tion he had had with Blueskin upon this very subject so 
 short a time before. 
 
 He forgot their own perilous position. 
 
 Forgot that he was a condemned felon with a inward 
 upon his head. 
 
 And where was he ? 
 
 Instead of being far away and safe from ail pursuit, 
 there he was in a house that positively adjoined the prison 
 of Newgate. 
 
 And not only that, he stood beneath &9 roof of his 
 greatest and most implacable enemy. 
 
 Tho man who had over and brer aRiiin sworn ibnt he 
 *>,*14 t^g y w u$ tit? «felkwB| »»'! mn h« errors ihBt 
 
 oath, had he not step by step urged him forward to hia 
 fatal destination. 
 
 But all that faded from Jack's mind. 
 
 He only felt that he loved — that ho held the object of 
 his love to his heart — that her head was resting upon his 
 shoulder — that her arms were round his neck. 
 
 She had spoken to him words of kindness — she had 
 expressed her reliance upon him. Ho had come to save 
 her. 
 
 Can it bo wondered at that all these things produced a 
 kind of intoxication in Jack's mind. 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess, however, who first roused him 
 from this state of bliss — from the only moment of pure 
 happiness that he had ever known. 
 
 Jack," she said. " ltelease me now — you hurt me. 
 How came you here ? Oh ! fly — fly ! If Jonathan Wild 
 returned, what would become of us ? " 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " repeated Jack, for the word struck 
 upon his ear like a jarring diseoi-d in the midst of sweet 
 music. " I have a reckoning to pay off with that villaiu. 
 Do not fear him, for you may already consider yourself out 
 of his power." 
 
 " Oh ! that is joyful news,' indeed. Out of his power ? 
 Oh ! Jack, I knew you would save me. I felt sure of 
 it. I have waited a long — long time for you to take me 
 away from here ; but you have come at last." 
 
 " I have ; and what is more, I havo two trusty friends 
 to aid me, and so you have nought to fear. United, we 
 are a match for Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " One is Steggs." 
 
 " Yes, and the other is Blueskin." 
 
 "He has, indeed, proved himself a friend." 
 
 " One is on the landing outside, and the other is on the 
 roofs above, keeping guard." 
 
 " On the roofs ? " 
 
 " Yes. I ought to have told you. The only way we 
 can manage is for you to escape by the roofs. We have 
 taken an attic in the house next door, and to that we shall 
 have to make our way." 
 
 " Oh ! Jack, you do not know how much I would do to 
 be free from the power of the villain Wild." 
 
 " That is all you will have to do. Our course is plain 
 and straight before us. Everything is arranged." 
 
 " Then let us fly at once." 
 
 " Are you prepared ? " 
 
 "Quite ; and Steggs has told me that Wild is not in the 
 house, though no one knows how soon he may return. 
 Oh ! let us fly at once, lest he should come back and find 
 us here." 
 
 " We will ; but believe me, I have dedicated my life to 
 your service. I am a condemned man. Do not shudder. 
 The crime of which I was accused I am as innocent of as 
 you are yourself. But ere I die I have determined that 
 I will see you in possession of your rights, and Jonathan 
 Wild swinging on the triple-tree at Tyburn ! " 
 
 " If any one deserved such a fate," said Edgworth Bess, 
 " he does, and he has proved himself so inveterate a foe to 
 me, that I could not pity him were such to be hi3 fate to- 
 morrow." 
 
 " Pity him ! " said Jack, " I should think not. But 
 surely his course of iniquity must be well nigh run out. 
 The crimes he has committed are enough for the damna- 
 tion of twenty men ! " 
 
 " Hush, Jack. I do not like to hear you talk like that." 
 
 " He brought my father to the scaffold. He offended 
 him in some way, I know not how, but let it be what it 
 may, for that offence he swore that he should die at 
 Tyburn ! He kept his oath, and murdered my father." 
 
 "Ob ! it is terrible." 
 
 " And then, myself. Malignant fate in some way threw 
 us together. At the time even when you saw me first I was 
 in his employ, and had I taken part with him against your- 
 self I should probably never have incurred his hate and 
 enmity in the way I have done. But you know the perils 
 and the dangers through which I have had to pass, and 
 solely on his account. Then be brought a false charge of 
 murder against me — kept away the lawyer who was 
 instructed to appear in my behalf — and caused me to be 
 sentenced to death." 
 
 " Your wrongs are great, and so are mine, but in the 
 end we shall triumph, and he will pay the penalty of hia 
 guilty acts. If I can do anything to bring about bc 
 desirable an end you may depend A •bull. Bvt 1 io<?fc 
 »i>?c his downfall m gwrtaMt"
 
 820 
 
 EI.TTESKTN: A ROMASCS. 
 
 " We shall see," said Jack ; but come, I forget myself. 
 This is not the time for talk or explanations. Blueskin 
 will be wondering where I am go teng." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Jack. Fly now. I hope we shall have many 
 «f>portunitie8 of talking to each other." 
 
 Reluctantly Jack went to the door of the chamber. 
 
 lie know Steggs was there not a moment before, for he 
 had seen him, but new he was nowhere to be found. 
 
 Jack's mind was always full of suspicion as regards 
 Stoggs, and he looked upon his absence iu an unfavourable 
 light. 
 
 It was net without much misgiving, too, that ho 
 noticed it. 
 
 Could it be posnblo that he had gone to botray him P 
 That he was entrapped ? 
 
 Taking his companion by the arm, who could tell by 
 his looks and wanner— for ho said nothing— that some- 
 thing was wrong, ho passed out of the chamber on to the 
 landing. 
 
 But there was no Stoggs to be seen. 
 
 He made his way to the top of the stairs that led dGwn 
 into the hall, and looked down and listened. 
 
 The moment, however, that he stooped to put himself 
 in a listening attitude, he heard the sounds of some 
 unusual disturbance taking place below. 
 
 There was the trampling of feet, the shouting of voices, 
 and among these last Jack fancied he could distinguish 
 the tones of his arch enemy, Jonathan Wild. 
 
 But before ho could decide upon this, he heard some 
 one ascending the stairs rapidly. 
 
 lie drew back, and put his left arm around Edgworth 
 Bess, who was half fainting with terror. 
 
 Jack coolly drew his sword from its sheath. 
 
 Then turned to the other flight of stairs leading up to 
 the attics. 
 
 " Fly ! " he said, " fly ! Be quick, tor your life! I will 
 guard this staircase, and cover your escape. Make your 
 way out on to the roofs. You will see a ladder on the 
 landing above that will enable you to do so." 
 
 " No, no, Jack ; I will not flv and leave you here. You 
 must, come with me, or I stay/' 
 
 " No, no, that must not be. I can ascend the stairs 
 much quicker than yourself. Go up, I pray you. Don't 
 waste time in needless argument. Ascend, ascend. I 
 will follow you." 
 
 Thus adjured, and half terrified by the vehemence and 
 rapidity with which Jack spoke, Edgworth Bess ran up 
 the stairs leading to the attics. 
 
 At the same' moment Steggs reached the top of the 
 other flight. 
 
 He looked heated, alarmed, and breathless. 
 
 Behind him Jack could hear some one else comir:^. 
 
 His heart told him it was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The impression was firmly fired upon Jack's mind that 
 Steggs had betrayed him, and that conviction continued, 
 although the first words Steggs spoke ought to have dis- 
 sipated it. 
 
 " Fly ! " he said, " fly ! with all speed ! Jonathan, by 
 some means, has got upon your track, and is coming up- 
 stairs. Fly ! fly ! " 
 
 And Steggs came on up the attio stairs, which Jack 
 gradually ascended sword in hand. 
 
 Edgworth Bess stood at the top. 
 
 " Villain ! " cried Jack, his eyes still blinded by sus- 
 picion ; " villain ! you havo already betrayed us to the 
 rascally thief-taker, and now you wish to make our cap- 
 ture certain. Take that as a reward for your treachery !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXVII. 
 
 JACK SHJTPARD AND JONATHAN WILD HAVE A STRUGGLE 
 ON THE KOOF-TOPS, AND THE LATTER HAS A NARROW 
 ESCAPE OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 As Jack uttered these words in a loud and furious tone of 
 voice, ho made a sudden thrust with his swore at Steggs 
 ae he was ascending the stairs. 
 
 1 1 was impossible to avoid the stroke. 
 
 The plunge was a rapid and a vigorous one. 
 
 The sharp bright sword pierced his breast, and uttering 
 a yell of agony, Steggs fell backwards down the stairs. 
 
 Jack Sheppard hardly stayed to see the consequences of 
 this rash and foolish act, but turned and ran upstairs 
 himself. 
 
 Bess was before him. 
 
 She had witnessed wh'.t had taken place, asd was 
 almost too horrified to move or epeak. 
 _ Steggs had shown himself her friend on so many occa- 
 sions, and done her so many services, that she had grows 
 to like him, and was quite assured of his fidelity. 
 
 " There is the ladder," cried Jack. " Haste, hast©, o? 
 it will be too lata ! You will find Blaookin abovs." 
 
 " Here I am," said a voice, and immediately a ray of 
 light from the trap-door above was sent down upon the 
 landing. 
 
 It was Bluoskin, who held a dark lantern in his hand. 
 
 Edgworth Bess saw the ladder, and commenced ascend- 
 ing it. 
 
 " Bo quick, Blue ! Steggs has betrayed us to Wild, but 
 he has paid for his treachery with his death ! Take Bess 
 up and over the roofs safely. I will stay behind, and 
 cover the retreat. Quick, I say, or Jonathan will be upon 
 us ! Ha ! ho is here ! " 
 
 Jonathan had by the greatest chance escaped being 
 thrown down by the body of Steggs, but he had just time 
 to step back. 
 
 He paused far a moment, end then ran up the attic 
 stairs, all the time calling lustily to his men to follow 
 him. 
 
 Blueskin took in the aspect of a flairs at a glance, and, 
 stooping down, caught hold of Bess by both her arms, and 
 drew her up through the trap-doer. 
 
 Jack Sheppard ran to the foot of the ladder and ascended 
 it rapidly. 
 
 He was in hopes of being able to reach the top and get 
 on to the roof in time to either draw the ladder up after 
 him or throw it down so as to impede the progress of his 
 foe. 
 
 But Jonathan was too close behind him. 
 
 His feet were on the lowest rounds of the ladder before 
 Jack could get on to the roof. 
 
 Passion lent Jonathan strength and speed, and he 
 ascended the ladder with marvellous quickness. 
 
 But, on reaching the roof above, Jack once more grew 
 calm and cool. 
 
 Blueskin had not got far off with Edgworth Bess, and 
 they would have some awkward ridges to surmount beforo 
 they reached the window leading into the attic of the 
 nest door house. 
 
 Jack did not know the reason then, but we may as well 
 acquaint the reader with it now. 
 
 It was well that Blueskin caught hold of the poor girl 
 and drew her through the trap-door on to the roof in the 
 manner wo havo recorded. Had he not done so, she could 
 never have got out by her own powers. 
 
 Although much better than she had been, she was far 
 from recovered from her dangerous illness. She found 
 herself even weaker than she anticipated. 
 
 Tho excitement, too, of her unexpected meeting with 
 Jack — the sudden appearance of Y/ild — and the encounter 
 with Steggs, all had their full effect upon her debilitated 
 frame. 
 
 Indeed, we have hinted that on the lauding, when Jnck 
 put his arm around her and led her to the bottom of the 
 stairs, she was in a half-fainting condition. 
 
 But on tho ladder, as soon as Jack pronounced the words 
 in reference to Wild, " He is here ! " she involunta: Up- 
 turned round and caught sight of the countenance of the 
 villainous thief-taker, which was fully revealed by the 
 light of the lantern. 
 
 Her strength seemed then to utterly desert her, and 
 Blueskin caught hold of her at a most opportune moment : 
 otherwise she would have fallen to the ground. 
 
 By the dead weight she hung upon his hands, Blueskin 
 guessed what had taken place, and when she was fairly 
 outside he found hi3 worst forebodings were confirmed. 
 
 She was in a swoon. 
 
 This was an unlooked-for dilemma. 
 
 However, he took her in his arras, and carried her for 
 a short distance, until indeed, owing to the awkward 
 slopes of the tiles, it became impossible to carry her any 
 longer. 
 
 Then he placed her down carefully. 
 
 How was he to revive her ? 
 
 He felt hot and cold by turns as he thought Jonalnan 
 would be upon them ero they could make good their 
 escape. 
 
 He felt in his pockets, and the first thing his hasd 
 encountered was a flask containing some brandy.
 
 L 
 
 ELTJESKTN: A BOHANCE. 
 
 327 
 
 This, he imagined, would go farther towards reviving 
 h-er than anything else ho otmld find, «c, hastily pulling 
 out the cork, be poured no inconsiderable quantity of the 
 burning fluid down her throat. 
 
 The effect was instantaneous. 
 
 She gapped riolefiUy for a moment, and then recovered. 
 
 Blueskin looked behind hira. 
 
 He saw Jack standing, with his eword drawn, over the 
 trup-door tlirongh which he had come. 
 
 Tho only way in which he could aid lam was, as ho 
 knew, to make al! ppeed with Edgworth Beas to the attio 
 window, and thia he at onco set about. 
 
 With these few words of explanation why they did not 
 go further in the time than they did, we will leave them, 
 and turn onr attention to Jack Sheppard. 
 
 As BluetLin bad seen, he woe standing with his sword 
 drawn. 
 
 Jonathan Wild reached the top of the ladder, and saw 
 his adversary thpro ready to receive, hi in. 
 
 Bat nothing danuted by the advantageous position of 
 his foe, Jonathan drew his own hsnger from its Bhefith, 
 and held it before him to guard his person. 
 
 Jack did iu.)t speaV. 
 
 His whole attention was centred upon his adversary, 
 and not the slightest movement that he made escaped hia 
 vision. 
 
 As yet Jonathan Wild was out of his roach, cr he 
 would have asirnredly attacked him. 
 
 Cautiously, however, Jonathan mounted the ladder. 
 
 Then, with his sword ready for action, he made a sudden 
 and impetuous rush upwards. 
 
 Jack saw him coming. 
 
 But almost before ha could strike at his foe he was 
 standing on the roof. 
 
 In an instant Wild pressed forward and attacked his Toe 
 with his henry hanger. 
 
 Jack, ho-^i-ver, stood firmly. 
 
 Now thf advantage-was ou Wild's side. 
 
 Jack was not skilled in the use of the sword, aid 
 Jonathan was. 
 
 Moreover, tbe thief-taker had a style of fighting peculiar 
 to himself, and which would have embarrassed even an 
 accomplished fencer. 
 
 He relied altogether upon tho vigorous delivery of heavy 
 blows, brought down with the whole strength of his arm, 
 and such as would break through any guard. 
 
 Bat Jack fought bravely against him dr.ring the few 
 seconds that the conflict lasted. 
 
 Suddenly, however, Jonathan Wild, with one of Lis 
 heavy blows, whisked bis sword out of his hand. 
 
 Away it went whirling through the air, until it fell with 
 a clattering sound upon the tiles. 
 
 And now, if Jonathan bad wished to have taken Jack's 
 life, he could most assuredly have done so. 
 
 But to have slain him with his own band would not 
 have satisfied his revenge. 
 
 Nor would it have allowed him to fulfill his oath. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, be resolved, should swing at Tyburn. 
 
 Dropping his own sword, then, be made u rush forward 
 before Jack was aware cl his intentions, and grasped him 
 by the throat. 
 
 Then a furious struggle commencod. 
 
 Jonathan evidently tr ought that when it came to a 
 hand-to-hand encounter, his superior strength would citke 
 the contest a brief one. 
 
 But he was mistaken. 
 
 Jack's muscles were like steel. 
 
 Backwards and forwards they went, now up the sloping 
 
 roof, then down, reeling alarmingly near the open trap- 
 
 ! door, which yawned for them like a gT&ve, and so close to 
 
 j the low parapet which bounded the roof, that it seemed 
 
 is though they must fall over it. 
 
 But they did net. 
 
 Then Jack managed to break from Wild's grasp. 
 
 With the swiftness of lightniug ho turned and fled. 
 
 But Wild was after him instantly, and caught hold 
 cJ the skirt of Jack's coat as he climbed up the angular 
 tiling. 
 
 Jack's hold was a frail one, and this almost pulled him 
 down, but he struggled manfully, and grasped the edge 
 from which the roof sloped down on both sides. 
 
 Heedless, however, of his neck, Jonathan scrambled 
 after him, and overtook him ere be could begin the 
 descent. 
 
 Then in this perilous poeition, was their struggle re- 
 newed with redoublod fury. 
 
 But Jonathan soon got the advantage again over his 
 opponent. 
 
 Ho forced Jack down. 
 
 Both -were thon compelled to release the hold which 
 they had kept upon the tiles. 
 
 The consequent was that they slipped down with 
 rather alarming rapidity. 
 
 Jack wns undermost. 
 
 Wild'a bands were tight upon his throat. 
 
 The sharp edges of tho red tiles cut his head, tore bis 
 clothes, and grazed his skin as he slipped down with Wild 
 upon him. 
 
 He gave himself up for lost. 
 
 But unexoected assistance suddenly presented it- 
 self. 
 
 I'.lneskin had safoly reached the attic window with 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 ilo had placed her in the room, requesting her not to 
 stir while he went to effect Jack Sheppard's rescue. 
 
 The poor girl promised to obey. 
 
 He, however, made his arrival just in time to save hia 
 comrade. 
 
 He hud a large pistol in his hand, but he was afraid to 
 fire for fear of hitting Jack. 
 
 He grasped it by the barrel, and got as near the com- 
 batants as he could. 
 
 Then, seeing an opportunity, be brought tbe butt end 
 down with full force upon Wild's head. 
 
 The blow was an awful one, and sufficient to extinguish 
 life. 
 
 The thief-taker relaxed his grasp, and rolled down the 
 roof towards the parapet. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXVIII. 
 
 7CHATIIAX 'WILD SITES OUR FRIENDS A GREAT DEAL OF 
 
 TROUBLE. 
 
 Blueskin stretched out bis other band, and clutched 
 Jack Sheppard, thus arresting his descent. 
 
 Jack soon aided himself. 
 
 But no such aid was vouchsafed to Wild. 
 
 If not dead, ho was certainly insensible, for no one 
 could have received such a blow as that without losing 
 consciousness. 
 
 He rolled down the tiles, then, and at length came with 
 a dull crash against tho low parapet. 
 
 There it was thought he would have stayed. 
 
 But an ominous cracking, crashing noise followed. 
 
 Tbe parapet was old and rotten, and quite unable to 
 stand against such a blow as that which Wild's body 
 guve it. 
 
 It crumbled away in a large mass, and the whole, 
 Jonathan Wild and all, disappeared from the eyes of 
 our two friends, v. ho were much startled by this unexpected 
 occurrence. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, however, recovered himself instantly, 
 and, not without eomo misgiving, they went to see what 
 had become of their foe. 
 
 " He is ioiie for at last, I do believe," said Blueskin. 
 " I should never have thought it, for I have considered 
 from the first that ho was destined for the gallows, but it 
 seems not." 
 
 "Don't make too sure," said Jack. "I have known 
 him hr.vo as narrow an escape as this. Wait till wo look 
 down." 
 
 They now reached the edge, and not trusting t.be 
 parapet so much as to lean against it, they looked 
 down. 
 
 Beneath thgm was the yard at the back of Wild's 
 house. 
 
 Ju~t below, end not many feet off, was a roof belonging 
 to some outbuilding, and on the top of this root was a 
 largo water-task or ciatern. 
 
 It was uncovered. 
 
 Jonathan W 3d bad fallen into this. 
 
 He was not dead. 
 
 So thick was ht3 skull, that the blow be received oni'7 
 partially stunned him. 
 
 The cistern, which providentially was just under wn*r« 
 he fell, was almost full of water, and he fell into it wiib a 
 tromendous splash. 
 
 The sudden contact with tbe cold water restored him no
 
 328 
 
 BLUESKIN : A BOHANCE. 
 
 far to his senses that he struggled about, and finally stood 
 
 up. 
 
 The water then reached to his breast. 
 More our two friends did not wait to see, but made the 
 best of their way to the attic where they knew Edgworth 
 Bess would be anxiously and impatiently awaiting their 
 return. 
 
 From Jonathan Wild they would have nothing to fear, 
 for a little while at least. 
 But, then, there were his men. 
 
 How it was they had not long before this made their 
 appearanoe upon the scene was more than they could 
 tell. 
 
 They did not know, however, the extent of Wild's pre- 
 cautions in this matter, nor how he had disposed his forces 
 so as to make their capture certain. 
 
 Indeed, they thought their danger was very nearly 
 over. Certainly all they would have to do would be to join 
 their horses as quickly as possible and make the best of 
 their way off. 
 
 The attic window was reached in perfect safety, and 
 without any further molestation. 
 
 Edgworth Bess could not suppress a cry of joy when 
 she saw them enter. She had been in a state of terrible, 
 anxiety, and suspense ever since she had been left, and 
 the sounds of strife, which had of course reached her ears, 
 filled her with the utmost dread, and more than once she 
 had been upon the point of going to them, only she re- 
 membered the promise which she had given to Blueskin 
 not to stir. 
 
 Now she was rewarded for having obeyed it by seeing 
 them return safe and unhurt. 
 
 They soon passed through the window into the attic and 
 closed it. 
 
 The candle, which had been stuck against the corner of 
 the mantelpiece, was still burning, though a preter- 
 uaturally long wick dimmed its light. 
 
 But Blueskin snuffed it, and then the three fugitives 
 could see each other's faces. 
 
 Jack Sheppard carried the marks of the harsh usage he 
 had received both upon his face and his apparel. 
 
 But although he was scratched, and had bled a little, 
 still he was not much hurt. 
 
 " What shall we do now ? " asked Bess. 
 " That is just what I think requires a little considera- 
 tion," said Blueskin ; " good gracious, what's that?" 
 
 A succession of the most awful howls which any one 
 could possibly imagine arose as Blueskin uttered these 
 last words. 
 
 " It's Johnny," Baid Jack ; " he does'nt seem to like his 
 cold bath." 
 
 " Yes ; that is Jonathan's voice, beyond the slightest 
 doubt." 
 
 " What an awful noise he makes." 
 " He does ; and if we have not already alarmed the 
 whole neighbourhood with our uproar, his howls are sure 
 to do it. Hark at that ! " 
 
 " Yes, Blueskin, my friend, you must take that into 
 consideration." 
 "What?" 
 
 "Our having alarmed the neighbourhood." 
 " I know that." 
 
 " We must be careful now how wo proceed 3 I can see 
 oar troubles are not half over yet." 
 " No, confound it, I was in hopes they were." 
 " So was I, but they certainly are not." 
 " If the neighbourhood is alarmed." 
 " Say, if it is on the alert." 
 M Well, on the alert. What had we better do ? " 
 " I think it would be hardly safe to do as we at first 
 proposed." 
 
 " What, walk downstairs, and out of the front door into 
 Newgate-street ? " 
 « Yes." 
 
 " Certainly not. I shouldnt't wonder if there's not 
 quite a mob of people there." 
 " Nor I." 
 
 " Or else, what is more likely, some of Jonathan's men 
 are stationed to keep watch upon the houses." 
 " You may depend upon it that has been done." 
 " Steggs told him, doubtless, that we intended to effect 
 onr escape." 
 
 " Ah ! you said something about Steggs having betrayed 
 us to Wild ? " 
 
 "Yes, I know I did." 
 " Did he ? " 
 " Betray us ? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Certainly he did." 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " While I >as in the room with Edgworth Bess, he 
 slipped off downstairs, and brought Wild up with him." 
 "Did he?" 
 " Yes, he did." 
 " And have you slain him ? " 
 
 "I don't know. I met him on the stairs/and gave 
 him a few inches of steel in his chest." 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " He fell backwards downstairs." 
 "How awkward." 
 
 " I knew he would play us false. I said so from the 
 first." 
 
 " I think Jack has been led into error through his 
 dislike," said Edgworth Bess, joining in the conversation. 
 "Why so?" 
 
 "I believe Steggs to have been faithful towards us. 
 He might have gone downstairs to see whether Wild had 
 come home, so as to give us warning, which he seemed to 
 be doing." 
 " I'll lay my life that's it, Jack." 
 " 1 don't think it." 
 
 " I do, and you will find you have made another enemy, 
 for now Steggs will be nothing but a foe to us, and from 
 the fact of his knowing all our plans, we shall be almost 
 certain to be overmatched by Wild." 
 
 " You can keep to your opinion of the matter and I'll 
 keep to mine," said Jack, rather angrily. " I think we 
 ought to be talking about something else just now. How 
 are we to get out of this house ? If we stay here much 
 longer, Jonathan will walk in and take us prisoners." 
 
 " Ask yourself," said Blueskin, who was chafed to think 
 Jack had acted so hastily as he had with Steggs. " Ask 
 yourself. Why do you apply tome?" 
 
 An angry response was on Jack's lips, but Bess spoke, 
 and turned it aside. 
 
 " Do not quarrel now," she said. " 1 will ask you not 
 to quarrel for my sake, because I believe both of you 
 wish to see me in safety." 
 " We do, we do," they replied, with one voice. 
 "Prove it, then, by thinking upon the best means of 
 taking me from here. ' 
 . "We will." 
 
 "I ask your pardon, Jack," said Blueskin; "let the 
 affair for the present be forgotten. We shall doubtless 
 learn soon enough which of us is in the right." 
 " With all my heart." 
 " Let us devise our escape." 
 " We abandon our first idea ? " 
 
 " Utterly. You see, by this time Newgate-street will 
 be full, and, as you said just now, Wild's men are doubt- 
 less set to watch the houses." 
 " I can't understand the affair altogether." 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " Why did Wild come out on the roof alone ? " 
 " That was strange." 
 
 " Very. I heard him calling to his men as he came up 
 the stairs." 
 "Well." 
 
 " Not one replied or made his appearance, nor did there, 
 as you know, during our conflict with him, nor has there 
 now." 
 
 " It certainly does seem strange. Now do you know 
 what I always think when I see anything strange in 
 Wild's oonduct ? " 
 " No." 
 
 " I mean anything that we can't exactly under- 
 stand." 
 " Just so ; what do you think ? " 
 
 " I think he is playing some very deep game, indeed, 
 and that it is doubly necessary for us to have our sessei 
 awake." 
 " I am entirely of your opinion there," 
 " Well, then, let us be careful what we do." 
 "We must be." 
 
 " Now, if we could only ascertain one thiny,** 
 "What?" 
 
 " Whether the house is watched." 
 " It can be done."
 
 BLTJB3KIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 329 
 
 [the escape from the subterranean passage.] 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " I will find out myself." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 "Why I" 
 
 " What makes you stop ? " 
 
 " Hark ! " 
 
 As soon as Jack Sheppard uttered the -word Hark! Lis 
 two companions, as well as himself, instantly assumed 
 listening attitudes. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXIX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND HIS FRIENDS HEAR A FOOTSTEP ON 
 THE STAIRS. 
 
 The sound which had caught his quick ear soon in- 
 creased in louduess, and manifested itself. 
 
 It was a footstep on the stairs. 
 
 A sneaking, cautious footstep, as though some one was 
 trying to come up some creaking stairs as quietly as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 What were our friends to make of this ? 
 
 They exchanged glances, and then listened again. 
 
 Up came the person, nearer and nearer to the atti<* 
 door. 
 
 All three almost held their breath. 
 
 At length the footstep reached the threshold of the 
 door. 
 
 There it paused. 
 
 Then followed a rustling, scratching noise. 
 
 Our friends knew what occasioned it. 
 
 Some one was feeling for the latch. 
 
 They looked towards it. 
 
 They saw it raised slowly, and a slight pressure against 
 the door. 
 
 But it was held fast shut by the little bolt which Jack 
 had shot into the socket. 
 
 The lateh was dropped again, and a pause took place i» 
 the proceedings of the person outside. 
 
 A great deal of secrecy and silence was desired, that 
 wu certain 
 
 No. 42.
 
 f.50 
 
 BLUESTUX: A TVOMAKCE. 
 
 But what could be the motive for the surreptitious 
 attempt to enter the room ? 
 That at present was a mystery. 
 Time alono would clear it up. 
 But what was the person outside going to do next r 
 Was he a friend or foe ? 
 
 The latter most likely, for what friends had those two 
 fugitives got in all the wide world ? 
 Not one. 
 
 By the aid of the candle which was glimmering on the 
 mantle-shelf, they looked in each others' faces as these 
 thoughts passed through their minds. 
 
 They were afraid to communicate with each other, 
 except by signs. 
 
 Suddenly they were startled by a fresh sound manifest- 
 ing itself at the door. 
 
 " Tap— tap— tap ! " 
 
 That was the sound. 
 
 It was as though some one had struck the door with 
 the extreme points of their fingers, or rather with their 
 nails. 
 
 As no notice was taken of it, the tapping was renewed. 
 
 Doubtless, like the reader, our friends were unable to 
 tell what to think of this. 
 
 The worst of it was, they could not deliberate. 
 
 But Blueskin looked at Jack as much as to ask what he 
 thought was best to be done. 
 
 Jack responded with a nod, as though he had made up 
 his mind to adopt some plan of action. 
 
 At the same time he noiselessly took one step nearer 
 the door. 
 
 Then ho stooped down, and, with the utmost care, 
 withdrew the little bolt which he had previously taken 
 such pains to shoot into the socket. 
 
 His two companions watched his actions eagerly and 
 anxiously. 
 
 No audible sound was produced by the withdrawal of 
 the bolt, and this was in some measure due to the fact 
 that, at the moment when Jack drew it back, the person 
 outside, whoever it might be, renewed the tapping on the 
 panel, and this time with greater loudness than before. 
 
 Jack rose to his full height. 
 
 He put his left hand upon the latch, and slowly lifted it 
 up. 
 
 He had his right arm ready for action. 
 
 Then, with the greatest suddenness, he pulled the door 
 open. 
 
 At the same moment he darted out his right arm, and 
 clutched hold of something. 
 
 Without waiting a 6econd to ascertain what it was that 
 he had caught hold of, he, by an exertion of strength, 
 pulled the object of which he had taken hold into the 
 room, and closed tho door. 
 
 So suddenly was all this done, that Blueskin and 
 tSdgworth Bess could scarcely believe that it had taken 
 place. 
 
 No alarm had been given. 
 
 But they were not long in doubting the reality of what 
 bad occurred, for tight in Jack's grasp was the landlord of 
 the lodging-house. 
 
 The sudden and summary treatment he had received 
 had filled him with surprise, nor had he yet recovered 
 himself sufficiently to attempt the least resistance. 
 
 But, thinking that in all probability it would not be 
 long before he did, Blueskin hastened to give his assist- 
 ance. 
 
 Jack motioned to Edgworth Bess to bolt the door again, 
 bo as to secure them from all other intruders. 
 
 The heiress understood him, and immediately obeyed 
 the sign. 
 
 The landlord was on the floor in a half-sitting half- 
 kneeling posture. 
 
 He looked the picture of fright. 
 
 Blueskin held him at one side. 
 
 Jack Sheppard at the other. 
 
 The latter now produced a pistol from his pocket, which 
 he very deliberately cocked. 
 
 Byron has very truly said — 
 
 It has a sharp quick jar upon the ear, 
 That cocking of a pistol, when yon know 
 A moment more will bring the sight to bear 
 Upon your person. 
 
 And so the landlord thought, as tho changing colour of 
 his countenance fully testified. 
 
 Jack, however, was not content with merely cocking the 
 pistol. 
 
 He saw the effect which that aetion had npon the land- 
 lord's nerves, and he wished to heighten it as much as 
 possible. 
 
 Accordingly he turned the barrel of the pistol round, 
 and pressed it in a very disagreeable manner against the 
 landlord's forehead. 
 Then, and not till then, did this worthy find his voice. 
 i.u a faint tone he gasped out — 
 *•' Mercy — mercy ! 
 
 " Yon have need to make auch a supplication," said 
 Jack. 
 " Have mercy upon mo." 
 "Do yon feel thai?" 
 " Yes-oh !— yes..* 
 
 " Do you know what it ia t n 
 
 " Mercy ! " 
 
 " No, it is not mercy. It is tho muzzle of a loaded 
 pistol pressing against your forehead. I daresay it had 
 made quite a mark. My finger is on the trigger. One 
 touch and your brains would plaster the wall behind you." 
 
 " Oh ! mercy — mercy ! " 
 
 This time the tone of voice in which he spoke was a 
 perfect howl. 
 
 " Silence," cried Jack. " Another such a sound as 
 that, and yon are assuredly a dead man. Do you under- 
 stand ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but have mercy npon me." 
 
 " Your life is in my power, to take it or not as I think 
 fit." 
 
 " I know it is, good sir ; but have inercy." 
 
 " That will depend entirely on yourself. ' 
 
 "On myself?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How, good sir ? how P " 
 
 " I will tell you the one chance you have of saving yonr 
 miserable life. And yet, what's the good, you won t take 
 it, I know, so I may as well kill you at once." 
 
 " N o — no. Mercy ! I will take the chance. Only let 
 me have the opportunity. I would rather do anything 
 than have my life taken at once." 
 
 " I can hear you are a sensible man." 
 
 " Yes, good sir. I hope to please you. Have mercy, 
 and give me the chance you spoke of." 
 
 " I will. You must tell me at once, and truly, what 
 made you creep upstairs and try to get into this room." 
 
 " I, good sir? 
 
 " Yes, you : and understand me, that one of the chances 
 of saving your life depends upon your telling me, not only 
 truly, but quickly. We heard you creep up stairs and lift 
 the latch and try to enter. Now tell us your reason for so 
 doing." 
 
 The landlord hesitated and stammered. 
 
 " Beware ! " said Jack, significantly, and he pressed the 
 pistol yet more closely against his forehead. 
 
 " I was sent up, good sir." 
 
 "Ah! by whom?" 
 
 " One of the gentlemen downstairs." 
 
 " What gentlemen ? Quick. I am impatient." 
 
 " One of Mr. Wild's gentlemen." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 "Which one?" 
 
 " Mr. Arnold, sir." 
 
 Jacfr and Blueskin looked at each other uneasily. 
 
 " Go on," said the former. 
 
 " I have told you sir." 
 
 a But not all I want to know. What did Mr. Arnold, as 
 you call him, send you up for ? " 
 
 " To see whether you were in the attic." 
 
 fS Oh! indeed. Do you know us ? " 
 
 " 2 know two of you." 
 
 " Do you really ? Then I am afraid you are in posses- 
 sion of a very dangerous piece of knowledge." 
 
 " Who am I ? " 
 
 " Jack Sheppard; and there is a reward of five hundred 
 pounds out for your apprehension." 
 
 " That need not interest you, for you will never get it, 
 take my word for that. And who is this on the other side 
 of you r " 
 
 " Blueskin." 
 
 " How do you know it P Tell mo on your lifo." 
 
 " I fancied it was you from the first, and then K ■■* 
 
 " Then what ? "
 
 BLUESK1N : A KOMANCE. 
 
 331 
 
 " When Mr. Wild's gentlemen came and took possession Now, if so, it follows that the reward mast be divided 
 of the front door, and they told me they were on the watch | into twenty portions/" 
 
 for yon in case you should try and get into the street ■'-' 
 "Oh! what else?" 
 
 " Then I told them about you taking the top attic, and 
 eo we agreed that I should come up and see whether you 
 Were in it." 
 
 " And what else P Tell your whole plot, or your life 
 will pay the forfeit." 
 
 " If you were here " 
 
 " Curse you, go on. You tire my patience." 
 
 " Oh ! there is nothing more." 
 
 " Go on, I tell you. I know there is more. One — two 
 three. Will you speak ? " 
 
 " Oh ! dear, yes. Anything to spare my life. I was to 
 come in, you know, if I could, and speak to you, and try 
 to take you downstairs." 
 
 " That was it, was it ? and then they would have com- 
 fortably nabbed us." 
 
 " I am afraid they would." 
 
 " I don't know whether you are more knave than fool." 
 
 " Whichever you like, sir." 
 
 " But anyhow you have need to tremble for your life. 
 You have sided with our enemies, and have tried to 
 betray us to them, and your life must pay the penalty." 
 
 " Yes, but what of that ?" 
 
 " I will tell you in a moment, if you will pay attention. 
 The reward, you say, is five hundred pounds. Kriw that' 
 divided by twenty, will give just twenty -five pounds apiece 
 for you." 
 
 " I suppose it would." 
 
 "Now that to me appears a very trifling sum of 
 money." 
 
 " I don't say it mightn't, but it seems a great deal to a 
 poor man with a large family." 
 
 " That's right enough, but you don't eeem to have in- 
 cluded one thing in your calculations." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Why, that you exposed your life— that, indeed, you 
 were more likely to lose it than not. Now, do you mean 
 to tell me that you only estimate your life to be worth 
 twenty-five pounds ? " 
 
 " No — no ! Have mercy. You told me you would spare 
 
 my life if I told you all. I have told you. Have mercy ! " 
 
 " Are you sure you have told us all ? Reflect a moment 
 
 and refresh your memory before you reply. Are you sure 
 
 you have told us all ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am quite sure." 
 
 " Then what excuse have you to offer for your conduct ? 
 We came here as lodgers — we paid you liberally for your 
 accommodation ; then what right had you to betray us ? " 
 
 " You forget the reward." 
 
 " And it was that which tempted you, was it ? " 
 
 " It was." 
 
 "And nothing else?" 
 
 " Nothing else." 
 
 " It was not because you had any spite against me and 
 wished to 6ee me scragged ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it. You never did me any harm, and I 
 don't suppose you ever would." 
 
 " Of course I should not." 
 
 " I rather like you than otherwise, and I should be as 
 sorry as anybody to know you had come to grief." 
 
 " But did not you wish to render Wild a service if you 
 could?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it. I don't like him well enough." 
 
 " It was only the reward that you wanted ? " 
 
 " That is all, indeed. You 6ee I am a poor man, and 
 the temptation was greater than I could withstand." 
 
 " Well, if that is the state of the case, of course there is 
 some excuse for you." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 "Yes, I do." 
 
 " Then you will spare me ? " 
 
 "That depends upon your conduct. I want to call 
 your attention to something." 
 
 " To what ? " 
 
 " How many of Wild's men are there downstairs P " 
 
 " Do you mean in the street as well ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "About twenty." 
 
 " Oh ! about twenty. Now, of course, if your little 
 plan had succeeded you would have expected the reward 
 to be shared out among yon ? " 
 
 " Ye-ye-yes." 
 
 " You didn't think you would have the whole of the 
 reward to yourself, did you ? " 
 
 " No, I suppose not.' 
 
 " Of course not. Now just attend to me for a moment, 
 will you?" 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 "Now I should think the least that eould be done, 
 would be for the reward to bo equally divided among you. 
 Shouldn't you ? " 
 
 " I expect that is what they would want." 
 
 "To be sure; and very fair it would be, I take it. 
 Now you said there were twenty of Wild's men down* 
 etairs." 
 
 " About twenty." 
 
 " Well, say there were twenty, counting yourself as one. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD COMPEL THE LODGING- 
 HOUSE KEENER TO CONNIVE AT THEIR ESCAPE. 
 
 This seemed to be quite a fresh view of the case to the 
 lodging-house keeper, and he looked at Jack with a 
 puzzled air. 
 
 !' I might not have lost my life," he said, at length. 
 " But you stood a very good chance of it, for you might 
 be sure we are neither of us the light sort to give in 
 easily, and we should have made a point of shooting you, 
 if we shot no one else." 
 "Oh! should you?" 
 
 " Certainly we should, because we should consider that 
 Wild's men were doing only what they were told, anc] 
 what they conceived to be their duty, while you travelled 
 out of your way to aid them." 
 
 The landlord made no reply to this. 
 
 Jack continued. 
 
 "Now there is another view of the case which you 
 ought to have taken before you agreed to side with Wild's 
 men. I have put it as being all fair and straightforward. 
 Now we will just suppose that you had succeeded in cap- 
 turing us, and had not lost your life. In fact, that all had 
 gone on in the most satisfactory manner conceivable, 
 which is not very likely. Still, we will suppose it. Now, 
 do you think that Wild's men would have troubled them- 
 selves about your having your share of the reward ? Of 
 course they wouldn't. You know, as' well as I do, that 
 the first thing they would set about doing would be how 
 to cheat you out of your due, so as to have all the money 
 among themselves." 
 
 " I never looked at it in that light," said the landlord. 
 
 " I know you didn't, and that is why I am putting tho 
 case to you. But you ought to have done before you em- 
 barked yourself in such a perilous undertaking. You 
 ought to have considered the matter over." 
 
 " I wanted the money." 
 
 " And you are euro that was the sole motive ? " 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 " Then, you just look here. Suppose now you had como 
 up to us and said Wild's men are downstairs and want 
 you. Now, if I tell them you are here, all I shall get if 
 they catch you is twenty-five pounds. Now, how much 
 will you give me if I show you how to make your 
 escape ? " 
 
 The landlord had been a good deal startled by what 
 Jack had said to him, but this last supposition thoroughly 
 astonished him. 
 
 " T fim a dolt — an ass — a blockhead — that's what I am. 
 In tact, I'm more, for I am a d — d fool." 
 
 " Just so. That is what I thought, but I hardly liked 
 to say it." 
 
 " Well, then, I say it again myself. I am a d — d fool." 
 
 " You think it would have answered your purposo best 
 to have tried to make terms with us ? " 
 
 " Of course 1 do." 
 
 " You might depend we should be willing to give a 
 great deal more than twenty-five pounds if wo were 
 allowed to get off. Now, don't you think we should ? " 
 
 " Think ? I am sure you would." 
 
 " And so you see, not only would you have got more 
 money, but you would have run no risk of your life what-
 
 332 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOJIANCE. 
 
 ever. Now you see it is in the greatest possible peril, for, 
 if I liked, I could take it this moment." 
 
 "But you won't P" 
 
 " I don't know that. We have made up our minds not 
 to be caught." 
 
 " How shall you escape ? " 
 
 " That we have to decide, but I wanted to bring you to 
 your proper senses first, and then talk about that after- 
 wards." 
 
 " But it is no good thinking about it now, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Well, not much. You see the case is quite altered, 
 but you know now how it would have been if you had your 
 proper senses about you. But we must dictate the terms. 
 Your life is in our power. Now, what will you do to save 
 it?" 
 
 " Do ? do ? Oh ! do ? Why, you promised to have 
 mercy if I told you all." 
 
 " I know I did, but I didn't promise that I should not 
 take your life, or, if I did, I didn't mean it. Now, then, 
 we will propose some terms to you, and, if you agree to 
 them, your life will be spared, but most certainly not 
 without." 
 
 " What are the terms ? " 
 
 " I will satisfy you. They are simple, and won't take 
 long to tell. You must in some way manage to let us 
 escape from this place. You can do it or not, just as you 
 
 f lease, but the moment you refuse, out go your brains, for 
 should think no more of shooting you than I should of 
 shooting a dog." 
 
 " Oh! mercy ! 
 
 " You hear what Jack says," said Blueskin, for the first 
 time taking part in the conversation, " so just tell us at 
 once whether you say yes or no." 
 
 " I wish I could say yes." 
 
 " And what is to prevent you ? " 
 
 " The thing is impossible." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " Jonathan's men are in the house on guard."* 
 
 "What of that?" 
 
 " You cannot escape." 
 
 " Well then, you must die," said Blueskin. " Pull the 
 trigger, Jack, and put the poor fellow out of his misery. 
 Besides, we have got no time to spare, and havo wasted 
 too much already. 
 
 " Speak," said Jack. " I want to be merciful. Will 
 you help us to escape ? Yes or no." 
 
 " Say yes, and I will give you ten pounds into the 
 bargain,' said Blueskin, who knew quite as well as Jack 
 that the only chance they had was to get out of the house 
 by the connivance of the landlord, and that was the reason 
 they had taken so much trouble with him as they had. 
 
 This offer of Blueskin's to give ten pounds in addition 
 had a marked effect upon the landlord. 
 
 Money generally will do away with a great many 
 impossibilities. 
 
 lie ventured to ask a rather momentous question. 
 
 " Have you got the money about you ? " he said. 
 
 " Of course we have," replid Blueskin. " You don't 
 think we should want you to trust us ? Look here." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin took ten guineas out of his 
 pocket, and jingled them in his hand. 
 
 " They are yours," he added, " if you will just show us 
 the way out." 
 
 The landlord sighed as he said— 
 
 " I wish I could." 
 
 " Why can't you ? " 
 
 " Wild's men." 
 
 " Tell them you made a mistake." 
 
 " They won't believe me." 
 
 " Send them away." 
 
 " How could I do that ? " 
 
 " I leave it to your own ingenuity." 
 
 " It's quite impossible." 
 
 " Haven't vou got a back door of some kind/' 
 
 " Oh ! Yes!" 
 
 " Do Wild's men guard that ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 " Then why not let us out of that ? " 
 
 " Where could you go ? " 
 
 " Wherever it took us." 
 
 " But it won't take you anywhere. You can get out 
 .'nto the yard, to be sure, but how are you to get out of 
 the yard?" 
 
 " I don't know. Take us down, and then we will see." 
 
 " It's very hazardous." 
 
 " Not half so hazardous as your first undertaking. Do 
 you agree to take us into the yard ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And without the knowledge of Wild's men ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then, if you will do that, we shall be quite content. 
 You leave the risk to us." 
 
 " Very well. If you consent to those terms I do." 
 
 " Good. Then the ten guineas are yours. But look 
 you, Mister Landlord, we intend to be very careful of 
 you." 
 
 " How careful ? " 
 
 " Why, that you don't try to play a double game, and 
 after all lead us into the claws of our enemies." 
 
 " You need not be afraid." 
 
 " Well, perhaps not ; but still there is no harm in taking 
 precautions. So, please to understand this. You will not 
 receive the ten guineas until we stand in safety in the yard, 
 and from now until that happy moment I will keep hold 
 of your arm, and Jack will hold the pistol to your forehead 
 in the same pleasant manner as he has done throughout 
 the interview. It will answer a double purpose. It will 
 enable us to place confidence in you, and it will remind 
 you of the fact that your life depends upon your own 
 actions." 
 
 " Trust me," said the landlord. " I don't want to see 
 you captured, and I don't want to throw away my lif» 
 It won't be a very easy matter, I daresay, but I will try my 
 best to take you into the yard, and then I shall leave you 
 to shift for yourselves." 
 
 " Well, then, let that be the understanding, and, to play 
 fair with you, I will give these ten guineas into the hands 
 of this young lady who we have rescued from Wild's house, 
 and she will give them to you as soon as we reach the 
 yard." 
 
 The landlord seemed to be well pleased with this 
 arrangement, and at once signified his readiness to take 
 them by endeavouring to rise to his feet. 
 
 This our two friends permitted him to do. 
 
 Then, at their request, Edgworth Bess unfastened the 
 door and threw it open. 
 
 As they had said, Blueskin and Jack still retained their 
 hold upon the person of the landlord, and the latter pressed 
 the pistol against his temples. 
 
 " Listen," said Blueskin to Edgworth Bess, " and tell 
 us whether you can hear anything of our foes." 
 
 Edgworth Bess went to the top of the stairs, and, lean- 
 ing over the balusters, listened intently. 
 
 " All is well, I think," 6he said, at length. " I can hear 
 nothing." 
 
 " Come on, then. You, Bess, I think, had better follow 
 us. We three will go down together." 
 
 It really did seem as though the landlord was quite 
 sincere, and fully intended to do what be had promised, 
 but then he had cogent reasons for his sincerity, since, if 
 he had played false, he would certainly have sacrificed his 
 own life. 
 
 In this way, then, they made their way down the narrow 
 attic stairs. 
 
 It was impossible for them to walk all three abreast, so 
 the way they managed was this. 
 
 Blueskin went first. 
 
 He had hold of the landlord's arm, who followed next. 
 
 Then came Jack, who had hold of his other hand, and 
 held the pistol to his head. 
 
 Edgworth Bess followed her two friends, under the 
 impression that that would be the safest plan for her to 
 adopt. 
 
 In this way they proceeded in total darkness, until they 
 reached the landing at the top of the next flight of stairs, 
 and at this point they paused and listened. 
 
 But from below there came no sounds indicative ot their 
 foes. 
 
 They resumed their descent with more confidence. 
 
 The house was a very high one, and, as the chamber 
 they had just left was situated at the very top of it, the 
 number of stairs they had to go down was something pro- 
 digious. 
 
 But they descended them in safety, and, so far as they 
 could tell, without raising any alarm. 
 
 At length the landlord said in a whisper— 
 
 " We must not go any lower."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 333 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " This is the first floor, and down them stairs takes you 
 into the hall in which are Jonathan's men." 
 
 " The devil ! Then how are we to reach the yard ? " 
 
 " I'll show you, but don't speak a word more than you 
 are obliged, and always in the lowest possible whisper, for 
 fear we should be overheard." , 
 
 " All right ; but show us how to reach the yard." ' 
 
 " I will. Just on your right hand there is a door ; 
 knock at it very quietly." 
 
 Bess executed the order. 
 
 In the profound darkness that was upon the landing- 
 place, Edgworth Bess would never have been able to see 
 the door alluded to, only within the room into which it 
 opened was a light, and as the door fitted badly iu its 
 frame, a line of light could be seen running completely 
 round it. 
 
 With this for a guide, Edgworth Bess easily found the 
 door, and she tapped lightly upon the panel of it, accord- 
 ing to the landlord's direction. 
 
 The other three stood close beside her, and waited for 
 their summons to be responded to. 
 
 " I'll speak as 60on as they open the door. You will 
 find it all right." 
 
 " We will trust you so far." 
 
 A step could now be heard approaching, and the next 
 moment the door was flung open. 
 
 A woman appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 She carried a lighted candle in her hand. 
 
 She looked rather alarmed when she saw so large a 
 party, and seemed very much inclined to scream. 
 
 Probably she would have done so had not the familiar 
 tones of the landlord's voice struck upon her ear, and then 
 she surmised that all was well. 
 
 " It's all right, Mrs. Perry," said the landlord, in a 
 very low voiee. " Let me and my friends come into your 
 room, and wo will tell you what we want." 
 
 The woman addressed as Mrs. Perry, and who occupied 
 the first-floor back, made no demur to this, but stepped 
 aside and allowed the little party to enter. 
 
 Edgworth Bess closed the door in a moment, and stood 
 with her back towards it, and then Mrs. Perry discovered 
 that the landlord was held as a prisoner. 
 
 Before, however, she could make any remark upon the 
 subject, the landlord spoke, and from what he said it 
 app'eared very clear that he meant to keep faith with our 
 friends. 
 
 " This is no time for explanations, Mrs. Perry," he 
 said ; " I will, though, tell you all by-and-bye. In the 
 meantime, take my word for it that everything is quite 
 right and proper. Time is precious. We don't want 
 your help in any way that I know of, so long as you do 
 not obstruct us." 
 
 The woman made no reply to this, but stood stock still 
 with her eyes wide open with astonishment, until at 
 length, her astonishment increasing the longer she re- 
 flected and the more she saw, her limbs refused to any 
 longer support her, and she dropped down upon a ohair, 
 which providentially happened to be behind her. 
 
 In the meanwhile the landlord proceeded to explain his 
 intentions, not by speech but actions, and our friends soon 
 comprehended by what means they were to reach the 
 yard. 
 
 They were simple enough. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXI. 
 
 REVERTS TO THE ACTIONS OF JONATHAN WILD AFTER HE 
 FELL OFF THE ROOF-TOPS INTO THE WATER-TANK. 
 
 As we have before stated, Mrs. Perry occupied that room 
 which was always designated as the first-floor back. 
 
 From thi3 our readers will be at no loss to know its 
 exact position in the house, and therefore further expla- 
 nation would be unnecessary^ 
 
 Since the landlord spoke, Blueskin and Jack released 
 their hold, and the latter also restored his pistol to his 
 pooket, because, whatever doubts he might have had about 
 his good faith, they were now completely dissipated. 
 
 The landlord then walked straight to the window of the 
 room, which, of course, looked out into the yard. 
 
 Slowly, and as noiselessly as possible, he opened it. 
 
 He would not have accomplished that feat so silently as 
 ho did if the window had been constructed as most 
 | windows are now -a- days, that is to say, to rise in a sash. 
 
 This opened like a folding door, as attic windows are 
 sometimes made to do. 
 
 As soon as this was done, he turned to Jack and whis- 
 pered — 
 
 " You will be able to do more than I thought. Well, I 
 am glad of it. You will escape from your foes easy 
 enough." 
 
 " That is good news. How shall we do it ? " 
 
 " Well, down there is the yard. It is not above ten 
 feet below us, and I should think one of you could drop 
 into it easily enough." 
 
 "Yes, but" 
 
 " 6top a minute. I know what you were going to say, 
 but just wait until I have done, and then you will bo 
 spared the necessity of speaking." 
 
 " Go on, then." 
 
 " One of you will be able to drop it." 
 
 " Oh ! yes, easy enough. If it is no lower down than 
 you say, it could be dropped easily enough." 
 
 " Very well, that's what I thought. Now one of you 
 had better do it as speedily as may be. When you get 
 down in the yard, look about you and you will see a 
 ladder" 
 
 " All right ! " cried Jack, " I understand. I'll go." 
 
 " Stop — stop. Hear me out." 
 
 " I know what you're going to say." 
 
 " No, you don't. Be quiet." 
 
 " What is it, then ? " 
 
 " By the aid of this ladder the other two will be able to 
 get down easily enough, won't they ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Very good. Now do you see that wall opposite ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but it's as much as I can do." 
 
 "Never mind, so that you do see it. Do you know 
 what place that is that's on the other side of it ? " 
 
 "No. What is it?" 
 
 "Newgate-market. Now do you understand ? When 
 you are in the yard, put that ladder up against the wall, 
 and get over it. You will then have only yourselves to 
 blame if you do not escape this time." 
 
 " Thanks," said Blueskin. " Thanks to you, we shall 
 indeed be free. Bess, give him the ten guineas ; and, 
 landlord, I'll tell you what you shall do. Call, the day 
 after to-morrow, at Tumposki's, the Jew's, in Little Earl- 
 street, Seven Dials, and he will give you fifty guineas on 
 my account, so you won't be a loser by this night's work." 
 
 The eyes of the lodging-house keeper glistened when 
 he heard these words. 
 
 He was avaricious, but it was poverty that made him so. 
 
 "Do you really mean that? he asked, not able to 
 believe his own ears. 
 
 " I do, and if you will recollect the place, and call at 
 the time appointed, you will receive the money all right 
 enough." 
 
 " Then I am sorry I did not help you at first." 
 
 " Never mind that now. It's too late to regret. It's a 
 good job things are no worse. You see you will get more 
 than twice as much as you could have hoped to receive 
 even if Jonathan's men had acted square with you, which 
 they certainly would not." 
 
 " I'U come, and I'll take care you are not seen. You 
 quite understand what I mean." 
 
 " Quite. I only hope Jonathan has not been cunniug 
 enough to post some of his men in the Market." 
 
 " I don't think he has done so, though ho has posted 
 them all about the street, so as to pounce upon you the 
 moment you make your appearance, so it will be necessary 
 for you to be very careful." 
 
 " Trust to us." 
 
 At this moment Edgworth Bess, who had continued 
 standing with her back to the door, gave a slight cry of 
 alarm. 
 
 She ran towards the window at which her two pro- 
 tectors stood. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " they asked. 
 
 " Quick ! oh ! quick. Bo quick ! " 
 
 " What did you hear ? " 
 
 " Some one, or some ones, are creeping stealthily up the 
 stairs. I could not hear their footsteps, but only the 
 rustling of their clothes." . . . 
 
 " Ha ! then Quilt and his men have grown suspicious of 
 -my long absence. You have no time to lose. Perhaps in 
 another moment they will attack us. Who is going to 
 drop into the yard ? "
 
 " I will," said Jack. I about doing something else that would aid him with nil 
 
 " Very woll ; perhaps you will he the best, as you are the speed he could 
 
 Buch a light weight. Don't make any more noise than you 
 can help. We will help to lower you through tho win- 
 dow." 
 
 " Thanks ; I shall manago it." 
 
 Jack Sheppard got out of the window feet foremost, and 
 the landlord and Blueskin held him by his hands, and so 
 let him down. 
 
 At tho suggestion of Blueskin, Jack did not shift his 
 grasp to the window-sill, and drop after holding by that, 
 but they fairly lowered him down, he keeping hold of 
 their hands until they hung half-way out of window. 
 
 Jack had then only a few inches to drop, which he did 
 noiselessly, and without creating any alarm. 
 
 Without pausing, the moment ho felt himself upon his 
 feet he looked round for the ladder, as ho had been di- 
 rected, and espied it lying down at the foot of the wall. 
 
 It was a short, light ladder, and yet quito sufficient to 
 answer the purpose required. 
 
 With more strength than any ono would have thought 
 he possessed, Jack raised the ladder, and placed it against 
 the window-sill. 
 
 lie was not a moment too soon. 
 
 From somewhere in the upper regions of tho house 
 there came a horrible cry, which was immediately 
 responded to by another. 
 
 Then followed the rushing of many footsteps down the 
 stairs. 
 
 " That's Wild, I would stake my life ! " Baid Blueskiu, 
 the moment he heard tho hideous cry. " We are found 
 out." 
 
 " Then the best thing you can do is to make hasto. 
 Here's the ladder. Down with you." 
 
 " I will go first," said Blueskin, "and then yoo assist 
 the lady to follow me." 
 
 " Very good ; I'll see to that. Make haste." . 
 Blueskin got on the ladder and descended it a little 
 way, then Bess was placed upon it, and ho assisted her to 
 the best of his ability. 
 
 Jack stood at the bottom of the ladder to Bteady it 
 during their descent. 
 
 But we must leave them for a moment, while we take 
 just a passing glance at Jonathan Wild, and explain the 
 cause of tho cry which Blueskin felt so certain was uttered 
 by the thief-taker. 
 
 It will be recollected that we left Wild in rather an 
 awkward predicament. 
 
 After his struggle with Jack and Blueskin he had rolled 
 down the tiles, and gone with full force against a time- 
 worn parapet, which gave way before the sudden shock 
 with which his bulky body went against it. 
 
 Then, amid a mass of masonry, he had fallen down, not 
 on to the ground, which was some fifty or sixty feet beneath 
 him, but into a large open cistern, which was nearly full 
 of water. 
 
 The blow upon the head which he had received from 
 the butt-end of Blueskin's pistol, for a moment completely 
 stunned him. 
 
 But tho thief-taker's head was made of uncommonly 
 hard materials, as the numberless blows it had withstood 
 would testify. 
 
 So when ho went with that awful crash against the 
 parapet, it went a long way towards restoring him to con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 The sudden immersion in the cold water completed the 
 process. 
 
 Had his insensibility continued, he would certainly have 
 been drowned in that cistern. 
 
 As it was, having partial possession of his faculties, 
 though his brain was somewhat confused, he plunged and 
 tumbled about till he got out of the water. 
 
 This was accomplished by standing up on his feet, when 
 the water in the tank reached up to his breast. 
 
 Then he commenced the most horrible ululatron which 
 could possibly be conceived. 
 
 The roaring of the most ferocious wild beast would have 
 Bunk into insignificance in comparison with it. 
 
 He continued this little amusement until his powers 
 failed him. 
 
 And not tjll then did he make the discover}, ill at the 
 monstrous howling he had set up did not aid him in tho 
 least. 
 
 But, when he acquired this piece of knowledge, he set 
 
 Jonathan Wild was a man gifted with uuconnnon 
 energies, and it is much to be pitied that he did not direct 
 them in some useful pursuit. 
 
 He was, indeed, indomitable, never allowing himself to 
 be daunted by the most adverse occurrences. 
 
 Accordingly, having ceased howling, he looked about 
 him, and then perceived what ho might h a ro perceived 
 long beforo, if he had only had the sense to look. 
 
 This was, that there was a window just on a level with 
 the tank. 
 
 The window opened into ono of tho rooms in his own 
 house. 
 
 So immediately was this over the lank, that, had any 
 one been within tho room which it illuminated, they would 
 have been able to dip water out of it with tho greatest 
 ease. 
 
 Jonathan's gratification knew no bounds when ho saw 
 that window, and he inwardly blessed the friendly architect 
 who had had the forethought to place it in so excellent and 
 so useful a situation. 
 
 Before ho attempted to get through it, however, he 
 swilled his head and face well with cold water. 
 
 This done, he made a frantic dash at tho latticed case* 
 ment, and pulled it open. 
 Another moment and he was standing within tho room. 
 He could not subdue the utterance of tho burst of 
 triumphant laughter which came to his lips as ho did so. 
 But he did not waste time. 
 
 Hurrying to the door, he threw it open, and once more 
 hastily ran across the landing to tho foot of the attio 
 stairs. 
 
 But, in his haste, he forgot all about the body of Steggs 
 which had fallen downstairs. 
 It lay upon tho lauding. 
 
 We say it because it was scarcely possible for any one to 
 survive such a wound as Steggs had received, and cer- 
 tainly impossible if skilful and surgical aid was not imme- 
 diately administered. 
 
 The body of Steggs, then, lay extended upon tho landing 
 not far from the foot of the attic stairs, without the least 
 signs of motion. 
 
 Hurrying forward, Jonathan caught his foot against tho 
 prostrate form, and, unable to recover his lost equilibrium, 
 he fell heavily over it. 
 
 Tho stairs were placed just so as to receive his unfortu- 
 uale head, which came down upon them with such a 
 crack that it made tho whole house echo aud tremble 
 agaiD. 
 
 It was responded to by a deep groan which came from 
 tho lips of Steggs, who was suiferiug great auguish. 
 
 Jonathan Wild lay for a moment quite as still as the 
 body over which he had fallen. 
 Then he sprang to his feet. 
 
 His first impulse was to salute the body over which he 
 had fallen with half-a-dozen heavy kicks, each one of 
 which was followed with a groan from the lips of tho 
 wounded man. 
 
 But so far from having any humanising effect upon 
 Wild, he drank them in like music. 
 
 Then, blinded with rage aud pain — his body aching in 
 every joint — his head seeming as though it would split — 
 he rushed up tho attic stairs. 
 
 With desperate fury, and guided by that iustiuct by 
 which madmen and drunkards are governed, he reached 
 the foot of the ladder leading to the trap-door. 
 
 Upthighewent without making one false step— over 
 the parapet, passing by unmoved the scene of his late 
 accident, and all the while heaping the most horrible 
 curses upon the heads of Blueskin and Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Still under the guidance of the instinct to which we 
 have adverted, he reached the window opening into the 
 attic of the lodging-house. 
 
 No sooner, however, had he crawled in and given a 
 glance round the empty chamber, than Quilt Arnold, 
 followed by several of his men, rushed in. 
 
 Then Jonathan had uttered that cry which had so 
 startled the fugitives upon the fir6t-floor, aud which made 
 Blueskin quite certain that their arch enemy was once 
 more upon their track. 
 
 A few words passed between Quilt Arnold and hi* 
 ferocious master.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 335 
 
 Will cursed again, and then the whole party rushed 
 down the stairs. 
 
 His long absence had made Quilt Arnold suspect that 
 the landlord had played him false, and the first glance he 
 cast into the empty attic changed that suspicion into con- 
 viction. 
 
 On reaching the first landing, they dashed open the door 
 that came first to their hand. 
 
 They were at the window instantly. 
 
 The first thing they caught sight of was the wall 
 opposite. 
 
 A;_ Inst this was a ladder. 
 
 On ..ie top of the wall was a figure. 
 
 Two more were ascending. 
 
 " Fire ! " roared Wild, as he saw what was taking 
 place, " fire ! curse you all. Fire ! " 
 
 He drew a pistol from his own pocket, and cocking it, 
 pulled the trigger, but no explosion followed. 
 
 The priming had got wet while he was in the cistern. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXX1I. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD, BLUESKIN, AND EDGWORTH BES8 GET 
 INTO NEWGATE-MARKET, BUT ARE UNABLE TO PIND 
 THE HORSES IN WARWICK-LANE. 
 
 But Quilt and the remainder of the band had got their 
 weapons in better order, so Wild's command was followed 
 by a sheet of flame and a tremendous report. 
 
 The amount of damage done could not, however, be 
 ascertained, nor did they make the attempt, for, directly 
 the discharge had taken place, Wild commanded his men 
 to follow him down the stairs — his intention being to 
 reach the yard of the house. 
 
 This he would have no difficulty in doing, so we will 
 leave him and once more turn our attention to the pro- 
 ceedings of those in whom the reader must feel a much 
 greater degree of interest. 
 
 Blueskin and Edgworth Bess reached the foot of the 
 ladder in safety, and then, without delay, it was placed 
 against the wall, on the other side of which, as the land- 
 lord had told them, was Newgate-market — at that time a 
 different place to what it is now, for the part we are des- 
 cribing was destroyed by fire very many years ago. 
 
 Jack Sheppard went first up the ladder, and in a 
 minute or two was on the top of the wall. 
 
 He was then rejoiced to find that there was a shed in 
 the market, the highest portion of the roof of which was 
 about a foot beneath him. 
 
 He did not hesitate to stand upon this, and while in 
 this position he held the ladder firmly at the top. 
 
 Blueskin did the same at the bottom, and then Edg- 
 worth Bess commenced her perilous ascent. 
 
 Dread of being captured by her enemies lent her 
 strength and courage, and she went up the ladder step by 
 step without the least accident. 
 
 Seeing this, Blueskin, knowing how precious time was, 
 conceived it unnecessary to continue standing at the foot 
 of the ladder any longer, so he, too, commenced to climb. 
 
 Such was the position of affairs when Wild gave the 
 order to fire. 
 
 Jack heard that order given, and his heart sank within 
 him, but fortunately Edgworth Bess was almost on a level 
 with where he stood. 
 
 Rendered desperate by the peril with which she was 
 menaced, Jack seized her by the arms and drew her 
 rapidly and somewhat roughly over the wall on to the roof 
 of the shed. 
 
 He was only just in time. 
 
 Almost before he had drawn her over there came the 
 discharge of the pistols. 
 
 They felt as well as heard the bullets go whistling over 
 their heads. 
 
 But they were unhurt. 
 
 Blueskin, however, was not so lucky. 
 
 He was on the ladder, about a couple of feet from the 
 top, when the volley was fired. 
 
 He had no resource but to remain still. 
 
 A sharp, stinging sensation made him aware that he had 
 been hit in his right leg. 
 
 It was a thousand wonders he did not lose his footing, 
 but he retained it, and continued climbing rapidly to the 
 top of the wall. 
 
 He called out to Jack, and found him on the shed we 
 have described. 
 
 Here Blueskin followed him, and the first thing he did ! 
 was to draw up the ladder out of the yard, partly because \ 
 he thought it might be useful to them in assisting them ! 
 to descend, and also because it would he debarring Wild ^ 
 from a ready means of following them. 
 
 The roof of the shed was rather precipitous, and it was 
 with difficulty that Jack and Edgworth Bess retained their 
 positions upon it. 
 
 " Are you hurt ? " was Blueskin's first question. 
 
 " No," was the reply uttered by both his companions in 
 one breath. " Are you ? " 
 
 " I am afraid I am." 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 " In the leg." 
 
 " Is it serious ? " 
 
 " I can hardly tell, but I hope not. It bleeds very 
 freely, and one of the first things I do must be to bandage 
 it up." 
 
 " Wait till we get down on the ground," said Jack. 
 " Let me have the ladder, and I will place it ready." 
 
 " It is here, lying beside me." 
 
 " All right, I have it. You look to Edgworth Bess for 
 a moment. I have great hopes now that we shall get off 
 in safety, without any further hurt." 
 
 " I trust so." 
 
 " That's it." 
 
 These last words were spoken by Jack in reference to 
 the ladder, which, to his satisfaction, he found was plenty 
 long enough to reach to the floor of the market. 
 
 He was again the first to descend. 
 
 But he was down in a moment. 
 
 " All right," he cried ; " follow me as quickly as you 
 can." 
 
 " I can manage by myself, I think," said Edgworth 
 Bess to Blueskin ; " but, with your wounded leg, how 
 shall you be able to descend ?" 
 
 " Never mind me, I will manage somehow. I am 
 getting pretty used to being knocked about, but, as for 
 you, why, of course, that is quite another matter." 
 
 Edgworth Bess, without much aid from Blueskin, 
 reached the floor of the market. 
 
 Our old friend bore the pain and inconvenience of his 
 wound like a martyr. 
 
 He managed to slip down the ladder somehow. 
 
 " Now," he said, " you must just wait a moment while 
 I bandage my wound, because, if I do not, not only shall 
 I get weak from loss of blood, but I shall leave such a 
 track behind me, that Wild will be able to follow us blind- 
 fold." 
 
 " I'll bind it up for you," said Jack, and, as he spoke, 
 he pulled off his voluminous neckcloth. 
 
 It was already in the shape of a bandage, so he had 
 nothing more to do than to tie it tightly round his com- 
 rade's leg. 
 
 Blueskin could tell there was no bone broken. 
 
 The bullet had struck him in the fleshy part of the 
 thigh. 
 
 Jack put the bandage on very skilfully, and by draw- 
 ing it tight he was able to stop the bleeding entirely. 
 
 Before the hemorrage had been copious, for the 
 bullet had gone in at one side and out at the other j but 
 perhaps this was better than if it had lodged in the 
 wound. 
 
 " Now, Jack," said Blueskin, " I am all right, and 
 shall do very well. The next thing now is to get out of 
 the market with all speed. I should not be a bit surprised if 
 we were to find Wild waiting for us now at the gate in 
 Warwick -lane." 
 
 " He can scarcely have had time to reach there yet, I 
 should think, Blue." 
 
 " Well, perhaps he hasn't. Clearly, we must get out of 
 here as soon as we can, or else we shall be taken like rats 
 in a trap, for Wild could easily surround the place." 
 
 " Do you know the nearest way out ? " asked Jack, 
 " because, if you do, lead the way." 
 
 " Follow me. I know exactly where we are. Two 
 minutes will bring us to the archway in Warwick-lane." 
 
 " Where," said Jack, " I hope we shall find our horses 
 waiting for us." 
 
 " So do I. We have been much longer, though, than 
 we expected. Still, I trust all will be well." 
 
 Blueskin, in spite of his wounded leg, set off at so rapid 
 a pace through the dark and fetid alleys in the market-
 
 335 
 
 BLTJESK.IN: A BOMANCfc. 
 
 place, that Jack and Edgworth Bess had much ado to keep 
 up with him. 
 
 But when the large archway which leads out into War- 
 wick-lane was reached, he slackened his speed, and ap- 
 proached cautiously, for about this spot he more than half 
 expected some of his enemies would be lurking. 
 
 The place was in deep darkness, which was a favourable 
 circumstance. 
 
 Stealthily, then, taking care not to speak to each other, 
 nor to tread too heavily, they fairly got to the gate, eo 
 that another step would take them into the street. 
 
 Then Jack deemed it prudent to reconnoitre. 
 
 He glided out into the street like a shadow, leaving his 
 two companions beneath the archway. 
 
 The horses would be at the Newgate-street end of War- 
 wick-lane, so that was the direction he took. 
 
 Of course, if they were there all would be well. They 
 would all three mount, and be miles out of the way before 
 Jonathan was ready to pursue them. 
 
 But as he crept along the narrow thoroughfare, Jack 
 recollected what the lodging-house keeper had said with 
 reference to Wild having set a watch in the street. 
 
 It might be that they had found the three horses, and 
 guessed the object for which they were provided. 
 
 If so, our friends would be very awkwardly situated 
 indeed. 
 
 It behoved Jack, at any rate, to be unusually cautious. 
 
 He had not to go many 6teps to reach the top of War- 
 wick-lane. 
 
 By the top, of course, we mean the upper part of it, for 
 Jack did not go to the corner of Newgate-street. 
 
 But he went far enough to be able to see into that 
 thoroughfare. 
 
 There were certainly no horses visible in that direc- 
 tion. 
 
 Jack's heart sank within him. 
 
 He had calculated most fully upon finding the horses 
 waiting for them, but, now they were gone, what were 
 they to do. 
 
 He turned back with the faint hope that he might find 
 them at the other end of the street. 
 
 But that hope turned out fallacious. 
 
 The street was certainly empty. 
 
 From what cause ? 
 
 Had the Jew failed to perform his part of the agree- 
 ment, which was to have three horses at the place men- 
 tioned in waiting for them ? 
 
 Or, had the horses been sent there, and had they been 
 seized by Jonathan Wild's men ? 
 
 To neither of these questions could Jack return a satis- 
 factory reply. 
 
 He was quite satisfied the horses were not there, eo he 
 returned to the archway of the market in order to com- 
 municate the disagreeable intelligence to Blueskin. 
 
 But he was not much surprised. He had all along 
 feared that this would prove to be the case. 
 
 " We must make the best of our way from this place, 
 Jack," he said. " It won't do to stop here another 
 moment." 
 
 " If we do, it will only be at a very great risk indeed. 
 Now the horses are gone, we must try to do without 
 them." 
 
 " But how ? " 
 
 " Never fear, we shall hit upon eonie expedient before 
 long." 
 
 ' Our position is very critical." 
 
 " I know it. Are there any of Wild's men about ? " 
 I could not see any." 
 
 " They may be lurking somewhere. I wonder what 
 Jonathan is about." 
 
 " I don't know ; but, Blueskin, a thought has just struck 
 me. 
 
 " With reference to making our escape ? " 
 
 " With reference to a secure hiding-place, where Jona- 
 than would never think of looking for us." 
 
 "That is much the same thing; but whereabouts is 
 this hiding-place you speak of?" 
 
 " Follow me, and I will tell you as we go along towards 
 it. _ The idea is so excellent, that I am sure you will agree 
 to it at once." 
 
 " Well, I trust to you, because time is so precious." 
 
 " Come along, then, as fast as you are able. I will take 
 charge of Edgworth Bess." 
 
 "Oh! Jack, when will the perils of this night be 
 over ? " 
 
 " I wish I could tell you," replied Sheppard, as he took 
 his fair companion by the hand, and hastened with her 
 down Warwick -lane, in the direction of Amen-corner. I 
 trust our perils will quite cease in less than a quarler-of. 
 an-hour from now." 
 
 " I trust so, Jack, for I am so exhausted that I cannot 
 keep up much longer, even if my life depended on it." 
 
 " I am sure what you have already gone through must 
 have fatigued you greatly. I am in hopes, however, of 
 being able to take you to a place where you will have an 
 opportunity of enjoying some hours undisturbed rest." 
 
 " I shall be thankful for it. Do you know, Jack, this 
 long illness I have had has left me so very weak. Indeed, 
 I am surprised I have kept up so well. Where are you 
 going to take me ? " 
 
 "To St. Paul's." 
 
 "St. Paul's?" 
 
 " Yes, St. Paul's Cathedral. What do you think of 
 that?" 
 
 " I should never have thought of hiding there." 
 
 " It is a capital place," said Blueskin, ** and I vote we 
 make there with all speed. Why, Jonathan would hunt 
 all London over and never think of looking for us there." 
 
 " So I think." 
 
 " Which way shall we go ? " 
 
 " Bound the corner into Paternoster-row, and then you 
 will see another turning nearly opposite, which will briDg 
 you out just where you want to be." 
 
 " I know, in St. Paul's Churchyard." 
 
 " Just so. But quick. I can hear some one approach- 
 ing, and it will never do for us to be perceived." 
 
 While this little dialogue was going forward, our three 
 friends turned the corner of Warwick-lane into Pater- 
 noster-row, and across this thoroughfare down a narrow 
 passage, from which they emerged upon the north side of 
 St. Paul's Churchyard. 
 
 And now before them was that colossal structure which 
 makes itself so conspicuous above the many buildings 
 which surround it. 
 
 " Jack," said Blueskin, pausing suddenly, "yours was a 
 good idea of hiding in St. Paul's, and I don't suppose we 
 should ever be found j but then there is a great difficulty 
 in the way." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Why, how are we to get inside the doors of the cathe- 
 dral ? — they will all be closed." 
 
 " I know that." 
 
 " Then how shall you get in ? " 
 
 " Easily enough. Don't you recollect how they have 
 been at work repairing one end of it for ever so many 
 months past. Well, that is where I mean to get in. 1 
 am sure it can be done." 
 
 " Ah ! well, perhaps it might. But until you mentioned 
 it, I had quite forgotten the repairs were going on that you 
 spoke of. ' 
 
 " I recollected. We shall have rather an awkward job 
 to get over the palings, but I think we shall find some 
 scaffolding that will enable us to do it." 
 
 " We shall have to be very quick, too, about it, because 
 if any one saw us climbing over, the whoie affair would 
 get wind at once, which would vex me exceedingly, for I 
 should think it a great pity to have such a good hiding- 
 place discovered. When we get fairly inside, we shall be 
 able to talk over what had best be done." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXIII 
 
 OUE THESE FRIENDS GET INSIDE ST. PAUL'S, BUT FIND » 
 THEIR PERILS ARE BY NO MEANS OVER. 
 
 This was so evident a fact, that those who heard it did 
 not think it called for a reply. 
 
 The three fugitives hurried along close to the palings of 
 the churchyard, looking about them for the scaffolding of 
 which Jack had spoken. 
 
 The latter led the way. 
 
 As he had correctly stated, during the past few months • 
 some alterations and repairs were in progress at the east 
 end of the cathedral. 
 
 They were now approaching completion, but still it was 
 probable enough some crevice could be found throwgh | 
 which they would be able to effect an entrance. 
 
 The scaffolding was at length reached.
 
 (.JON.vrir.vx wild is coxfuonted bV b 
 
 ^tii^iX^vv&ff had bwu ^* 
 
 the roadway. P P 10 iected for some distance into 
 
 caSo^t banter woC "/ft * *?* ™ sb *» «« it 
 here ! " U evei we couId W looped for. Look 
 
 without any trouble 6 them lnto the churchyard 
 
 canfohW £**'" Said Jact ' " aDd if ^ 5i all right, you 
 
 A^!£ 7 ^ e i^l*%™«<l have had to 
 
 ™* awkward ^foSd/worth B^' ""* ™? ld ^ e boon 
 
 J t was a sr--.« ^"sworth Bess, was happ y obviated 
 found. Sr e betweec some timber which Jade had 
 
 orSSfi aSSes dark ' but witbont tbe least <->• I 
 ^^Wffi&s^ froai S-jfr* of u* two 
 
 n tiwar eaia were assailed with loud cries, [ 
 Ko. 43. 
 
 AXOK APPAB,T,ON ON THE „;,X B D BHinOF ] 
 
 ^btthatit Waa a KSSv & ^ BlQeskin had any 
 
 track. t-nemy, Wild, who was upon then 
 
 to.^^BP&laftr ™ -J* wait for Jack 
 within the recess L\ IL. TK hl ? caI1 to thei » from 
 ^inalow^e'SemSef lfc at ° UCe ' and ""* *> 
 
 managed to dog our footsteps ?'' " V "" be Lave
 
 sss 
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOjIAXCE 
 
 " That I have no idea ; but what shall wo do P Hark, 
 here he comes." 
 
 " Wo ean do nothing but remain whero wo are, said 
 Jack, " and trust to nis passing this place and not finding 
 us." 
 
 " Bnt that is a very slender chance. 
 
 " I know it is, but'it is our only one. Keep still, or ho 
 will hoar us. Wc can do nothing but trust to his going 
 
 by" . . , . ^ 
 
 This was trusting to a very frail thing maee«, and so 
 Jack and Bluoskin both felt, for Jonathan Wild was a 
 man possessed of no ordinary skill in hunting down human 
 game. 
 
 Some triiling thing, that would escape the observation 
 of most persons, would indicate to him that our friends 
 were hiding there, and if he did take such an idea into 
 his head, their case would be a deplorable one indeed, for 
 what would be easier than for the thief-taker to surround 
 the scaffolding and cither slay them or tako thena pri- 
 soners P 
 
 They heard him and his ruthless band come on. 
 
 Instantaneously they crouched down, as though by so 
 doing they would reduce the chances of their being found, 
 and with bated breath they looked out from their place of 
 concealment. > • 
 
 The next moment Wild and his band came in sight. 
 
 The thief-taker himself, in a shocking plight, led the 
 way. 
 
 His apparel was drenched with water and besmeared 
 with unctuous mud. Large rents appeared hero and 
 there, while down his face trickled several little rivulets 
 of blood. 
 
 His appearance was ghastly and horrible in the extreme, 
 and lufhcient to strike terror into the boldest heart. 
 
 Several of the men behind him carried torches. 
 
 They held them high in the air, and they diffused a 
 bright, ruddy light all around them, and by tho aid of this 
 light Wild and his men looked about in search of the 
 three fugitives. 
 
 On they caine — along the narrow, broken pave ment of 
 the churchyard, until they came opposite to the scaffolding 
 in which our friends were concealed; another moment 
 and they would have passed it, when suddenly^ Wild 
 called " Halt ! " and tho whole throng came to an imme- 
 diate standstill. 
 
 Tho hearts of the three friends sunk within them when 
 they heard this, and they mentally gave themselves up for 
 lost. 
 
 Still they had the prudence and the presence of mind to 
 remain quite still, and not to utter an ejaculation, or, in 
 fact, do anything calculated to put Jonathan upon their 
 track. 
 
 From where they were concealed they could both hear 
 and see the proceedings of their enemies. 
 ' " Halt ! " cried Wild, again ; " and listen some of you. 
 Who can hear their footsteps ? Silence ! Hark ! " 
 
 Tho whole band now became intensely still, and every 
 member of it listened with the utmost eagerness for any 
 sound which they could construe into the footsteps of 
 their prey. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 Not one of them had ears quick enough to catch the 
 sound they so much desired to hear. 
 
 *• Curses on it all ! " said Wild. " We are here just two 
 miuutes too late. They have come this way, I am certain, 
 and whether they have gone up Cheapside, or down St. 
 Martin's-le-Grand, is more than I can tell. We must 
 trust to chance. We must not wait here, however. Down 
 St. Martin's-le-Grand is tho most likely way they would 
 go. Forward — forward ! " 
 
 Upon receipt of tins order tho little troop put itself in 
 motion, and away they went in the direction Wild had 
 mentioned. 
 
 That he should halt just whero he did was net at all 
 extraordinary, because, as maybe gathered from the thief- 
 taker's words, a choice of roads was spread out before 
 him, and ho wanted some better guide than probability to 
 direct him as to which he ought to take. 
 
 Our readers may imagine with what joy our &iends lis- 
 tened to theso words uttered by their enemy, and learned 
 that he had gone upon a wrong scent. 
 
 Jack drew a long breath as he said — 
 
 " That is one more narrow esenpe. Thank goodness he 
 \u gone ! " 
 
 " Ho has. I made sure he halted just where ho did 
 because he knew where wo had hidden ourselves." 
 
 " But you now see how wrong it would have been for us 
 to expose ourselves in any way." 
 
 " It would, indeed ! " * 
 
 " What are wo to do next ? " asked Blueskin. 
 
 " I do not know what we can do better than follow op 
 <mt original idea of taking refugo in the cathedral." 
 
 " Do you think it will bo best ? " 
 
 " Decidedly, if wo can effect an entrance." 
 
 " Why not be off while we have the chance ? " 
 
 " I have thought of that, and there are two or fhrfo 
 reasons why we should not." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 " One is that Edgworth Bess is thoroughly exhausted, 
 and almost incapablo of making any further exertion, and 
 the other is Jonathan would be too soon upon our track. 
 You may depend he will soon find he is on a wrong scent, 
 before he goes far down St. Martin's-le-Grand, and then 
 ho will be back upon us." 
 
 " Those are too very good reasons, Jack." 
 
 "And not only that, Jonathan Wild would never think 
 of looking for us in St. Paul's. Now, if we were once to 
 get in there, the place is large enough to hide us without 
 much fear of our being found by any one entering it. It 
 will be necessary to talk over matters and re-arrange our 
 plans. Now, that can be done here more safely than any- 
 where elso, and Edgworth Bess will rest herself at the 
 same time." 
 
 "Your reasons aro very gocd, Jack, and quite con- 
 vince me that what you propose is the best thing to bo 
 done, so make your way into the churchyard at once." 
 
 Jack did not require to be told twice to do this. He 
 crawled among the scaffolding, and at length fairly stood 
 on the piece of ground which surrounds the old cathedral. 
 
 To this place his two companions followed him, and 
 then they set about looking for somo breach through 
 which they could obtain an entrance. 
 
 For a long time they were unsuccessful, but at length 
 they found a place just large enough for them to crawl 
 through, and no more. 
 
 They were particularly careful not to disturb anything, 
 for they by no means wished tho workmen to see any 
 signs of their having been about that spot. 
 
 In a few minutes more, then, Jack and his two oom« 
 panions were within the sacred edifice. 
 
 Even in daylight it is, in many places, shrouded in 
 semi-darkness, but now, on a dark night, the darkness 
 was intense. 
 
 For some moments after they got in, all three stood 
 profoundly still and listened. 
 
 But no sound came to their ears. 
 
 In that place a silence which cannot be described pre- 
 vailed. The very air itself seemed to be hushed. 
 
 Strange sensations will creep over every one upon en- 
 tering St. Paul's, but how much more must those sensa- 
 tions be intensified when the place is entered at night ? 
 
 The three fugitives were by no means exempt from this 
 influence, and they instinctively hushed their voices to a 
 whisper. 
 
 A very little while served to show them that they had 
 tho place all to themselves, and then they had the confi- 
 dence to advance a few paces. 
 
 " Jack 1 " said Blueskin. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Where are you ? " 
 
 " Here." 
 
 "I cannot see you." 
 
 " Nor I you." 
 
 " Aro yoa safe, Edgworth Bess ? " 
 
 " Quite. I have hold of Jack's hand." 
 
 " All is well, theu." 
 
 " I hope so. 
 
 "But, Jack." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Tell me, what are we to do in this place r It will not 
 do to stand here, nor will it bo very eafo to walk in the 
 dark." 
 
 " There is no doubt about that." 
 
 " Then what are wo to do ? " 
 
 " Have you the means of procuring a light ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; I never fail to carry them about nsc. 
 But then ' y — - 
 
 "What?"
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " I am afraid it would bo rather hazardous to exhibit a 
 light here." 
 
 " I suppose so ; and yet I don't know, after all. Such 
 a light as would bo sufficient to answer our purpose would 
 only look like a»tiny twinkling star in this huge place." 
 
 " That's very true." 
 
 " I should say, light up by all means." 
 
 " I will take your advice. At first sight it looked a 
 dangerous thing to do, but when yon come to think of it, a 
 great deal of that danger vanishes." 
 
 With these words on his lips, Blueskin felt in"' his 
 pockets, and presently produced the means of obtaining a 
 light. 
 
 These were a bottle of phosphorus and a wax taper. 
 
 The latter was small in size. 
 
 When it was lighted and the flame of the wick had 
 properly burnt up, Jack's words were found to be quite 
 true, for the light did seem like a tiny star, and it scarcely 
 dispersed the darkness for a foot around it. 
 
 Still they were able to see the ground beneath their 
 feet and avoid running against any object which might be 
 in their path. 
 
 By keeping on in a straight line they came to that por- 
 tion of the cathedral in which service was generally per- 
 formed. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was very much fatigued. She did not 
 complain, but Jack could tell as much by tho way she 
 leaned upon his arm ; indeed, as they walked, he almost 
 carried her. 
 
 Upon reaching the place wo have mentioned, Jack 
 looked about him as well as he was able, and saw that the 
 pews in which the people sat during the celebration of 
 the service were very large, and roomy, and comfortable. 
 
 They were moreover very comfortably cushioned — 
 indeed, everything that would conduce to comfort had 
 been done to them. 
 
 This gave Jack an idea. 
 
 " Blueskin," he said, " we may as well rewiain whero 
 we now are for a few hours. Bess could lie down on the 
 scat in one of theso pews and have a good sleep, while we 
 watched over her. We should have to move at daylight, 
 that would be all." 
 
 " I have no objection," said Blueskin. " I don't 
 suppose you would find a better place if you were to 
 search St. Panl's over, and, as you say, we could watch." 
 
 This being agreed to, the door of one of the pews was 
 opened by Jack, and Edgworth Bess entered. 
 
 Poor girl, she was quite overcome, and sank on the seat 
 with a deep sigh. 
 
 Jack closed the door and left her to herself, bidding her 
 good night, and desiring her to get as much sleep as she 
 possibly could, and he would see that sho was menaced 
 with no danger. 
 
 Edgworth Bess promised all that he asked of her, and 
 then Blueskin and Jack Sheppard crossed the aisle and 
 entered another pew, which was precisely opposite to the 
 one of which Edgworth Bess had taken possession. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Blueskin agreed to watch and sleep 
 by turns, and also to defer all further conversation rela- 
 tive to their future operations until such time as Edg- 
 worth Bess would be able to take part in the consulta- 
 tion. 
 
 And so, during the remainder of that eventful night, 
 tho three fugitives remained undisturbed beneath the 
 sacred roof of St. Panl's Cathedral, while Jonathan Wild 
 was fatiguing himself both bodily and mentally by a use- 
 less search after them. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MEDITATES A LITTLE UPON TUB TATE 
 OF IIIS AFFAIRS. 
 
 It was, in fact, about an hour before dawn that a party of 
 men, about a dozen in numbor, crept wearily down New- 
 gate-street in tho direction of tho prison; 
 
 They were no other than Jonathan Wild's band, re- 
 turning from their fruitless search after the three fugi- 
 tives. 
 
 For hours had tho thief-taker kept up tho hunt, but it 
 was all in vain, he could not find the least trace of those 
 he sought. 
 
 In a frame of mind by no means to bo envied, he 
 marched on, with his troop of men following close at his 
 heels. 
 
 Nothing but fatigue, however, and total inability to 
 proceed, would have had the offoot of causing Jonathan to 
 relinquish his search until he had succeeded. But, liko 
 his janizaries, he was mortal, and more sensible of fatigue 
 than he would have wished to bo. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was not the man he had been. 
 
 All who came into contact with him could see that. 
 
 It was not that his mind was less powerful and full of 
 energy than it was of old, — on the contrary, it sewned to 
 have been endowed with fresh strength. 
 
 But his body failed him. 
 
 That was his weak point. 
 
 Originally he had been gifted with accnslitution which 
 might be truly termed of iron. Few men ever had a 
 stronger. _ But he abused his strength, and the wonder 
 was that it had kept up so long and so well as it had. 
 
 The numerous wounds he had received upon almost 
 every part of his body had produced great debilitation. 
 For a long time ho had withstood their effects, and tho 
 huge^ libations of brandy he was in tho habit of taking 
 had imparted for a time a factitious strength, but every 
 time the reaction came, it left him weaker than before. 
 
 But, on this occasion, the first thing he did was to de- 
 mand brandy, and when the fiery fluid was brought him, 
 he drank such a quantity that a spectator would have 
 been filled with astonishment. It was real good brandy, 
 too, such as had never passed through the publican s 
 hands, but as it had corao from the distillery, and very 
 many degrees over proof. 
 
 In a moment — before, indeed, he took tho bottle from 
 his lips — the brandy seemed to circulate through every 
 vein and artery in his body, and for the instant ha felt 
 himself in possession of his pristine strength. 
 
 LIo laboured under the delusion that he was better. 
 
 Still not even the brandy which he drank would restore 
 rest to his weary and aching bones. Many a man would 
 havo been laid up for a month by such a tumble from tho 
 roof-tops as ho had had, and yet we havo seon what ho has 
 done siceo. 
 
 But tho limit of his endurance was reached, and he was 
 obliged to succumb. 
 
 Without a word to any ono (for he was incompetent 
 even to curse his men), he made his way upstairs, and 
 entering a bed -room, he staggered to the bed, threw him- 
 self upon it, and endeavoured to sleep. 
 
 But for a long time he tried in vain. 
 
 Ue was almost too tired for sleep to come to him. Ilia 
 brain throbbed — his bones, from the crown of his head to 
 the sole of his foot, ached excruciatingly — and whero the 
 skin had been abraded and dirt rubbed into tho wound, be 
 suffered a terrible smarting torment. 
 
 But at length J onathan Wild fell into a deep sleep — 
 exhausted nature was at last having her due. _ 
 
 In the very next room to that in which Wild thus lay 
 sleeping, there also lay another person, whoso condition 
 was by far more desperato than his. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to say that tho individual to 
 whom allusion is made is no other than tho unfortunate 
 Steggs, who unluckily fell a victim to tho blind suspicions 
 of Jack Sheppard. 
 
 He was extended on tho bed, looking as lifeless as any 
 one well could. 
 
 Some ono in tho houso had done him that kindness, and 
 there their assistance ceased, considering that all had been 
 done that was necessary. 
 
 Tho reader must be awaro, without being expressly told 
 so, that Steggs was quite guiltless of tho crime which 
 Jack Sheppard laid to his charge. 
 
 He had not the slightest intention of betraying him to 
 Wild, and when he descended tho stairs, it was for the 
 purposo stated by Edgworth Bess, namely, to ascertain 
 .whether Jonathan had returned. 
 
 Ho found he had dono so, and, moreover than that, 
 that he had tracked Jack Sheppard to *vhere ho was. 
 
 No sooner did he learn this, than he Listened upstairs 
 to communicate the intelligence to Jack, and urge him to 
 make all possible speed. 
 
 Wo have seen how he did so, ana wo havo also seen 
 how Jack Sheppard allowed hia disliko for tho man to 
 triumph over his judgment, and so ho gavo him tho des- 
 perate wound wo have described. 
 
 It was a great wonder it was not at once fatal, or that 
 tho fall and tho kicks Jonathan bestowed upon hira 
 whilo on tho landing did not conspire to produce ilia'
 
 340 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 effect. But no, Steggs still lived— tbevo are some natures 
 extremely tenacious of life, and w£t> wsHj in a manner of 
 speaking, die a dozen deaths. 
 
 So Steggs, although insensible, Jill lived. 
 
 He was no favourite with the thief-taker's bo<3y-guaru 
 at large. He was not one of their kind. They were 
 jealous of the confidence which Wild reposed in him, and 
 "they disliked him accordingly. 
 
 The matter, however, was talked over in the hall while 
 Jonathan was absent on his excursion, and, in the end, 
 Touks, who was really in tho main not a bad-hearted 
 fellow, volunteered to go and fetch Mi - . Snoxall, and so 
 Steggs had his wound dressed. 
 
 The apothecary, however, would not hold out the 
 slightest hopes of his recovery. He said ho might do so, 
 but the chances were all the other way. What the effect 
 of all this would be upon Steggs should ho eventually re- 
 cover is hard to say. He was of a vindictive, revengeful 
 spirit, and would probably enough inflict all the injury he 
 could upon tho person who had dealt him such a terrible 
 blow. 
 
 This is a matter, however, which must be left to time 
 for unfoldiDg. 
 
 And so, divided from each other by a space of a few 
 yards only, were Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker, and 
 Steggs. 
 
 At that very time, too, Edgworth Bess, in the cushioned 
 recesses of the old pew in St. Paul's Cathedral, was enjoy- 
 ing a comfortable repose which would go far to recuperate 
 her wasted energies. 
 
 Jack, too, slept soundly and calmly, and Blueskin kept 
 watch over both the slumberers, his brain being all the 
 while busily engaged in devising some means which 
 would promise an eventual escape. 
 
 And so the chief actors in this strange story were at 
 this timo all similarly occupied— that is to eay, were 
 asleep. 
 
 All but one. 
 
 That one was an unfortunate being who had become so 
 changed that not even his most intimate friend would 
 know him. 
 
 The change, too, had taken place in a very chort space 
 of time. 
 
 But the dungeons beneath Jonathan Wild's house were 
 of such a frightful description that a very short period of 
 incarceration in one of them would suffice to effect a very 
 great change indeed. 
 
 We are now alluding to Lord Donmull, whom Jonathan 
 Wild had entrapped with so much ingenuity into one of 
 his cells. 
 
 The unfortunate nobleman now saw, when it was too 
 late, that he had been made a dupe of by the thief-taker, 
 and that he had been made use of like a puppet. 
 
 The conviction was gall and wormwood to him, and he 
 spent his time in uttering vain curses upon his own 
 imbecility. 
 
 Then there would come times when he would feel a 
 sudden accession of vigour, caused when he had made up 
 his mind to escape and restore his poor persecuted niece 
 to her possessions. 
 
 This he would have done long since if Wild had per- 
 mitted him, but such a proceeding as that by no means 
 accorded with his own plans. 
 
 And now the end of it all was, his incarceration in that 
 Joathsome and pestiferous dungeon, which was so strongly 
 built that it had hitherto successfully defied all the 
 attemps he had made to escape from it. 
 
 He did not sleep. 
 
 In that place it was almost impossible, and so on that 
 night, or, rather, early morning, Lord Donmn.U was 
 watchful and awake. 
 
 Jonathan Wild slept very heavily. 
 
 It was a deep, dreamless slumber at first. 
 
 He was too thoroughly prostrated feo dream, but after 
 awhile, when his fatigue abated, then Lis brain. began to 
 exercise itself. 
 
 Visions of the most horrible description conceivable 
 flitted like a dismal phantasmagoria before his distempered 
 brain. 
 
 We will not pause to describe them — they would only 
 take up unnecessary spnoe, and crowd the reader's mind 
 with unmitigated horrors. We will pass over them in 
 silence. 
 
 More than once Jonathan groaned, as something cf a 
 
 more than usually awful nature appeared to him, but still 
 he did not wake. 
 
 Nor did he until the fierce rays of tho morning sut 
 pssurcd full upon his countenance. 
 
 Then he opened his eyes, but the sudden blaze of light 
 almost blinded him, so he closed them again. 
 
 He turned over on to his other side, 60 that the hurniui; 
 beams no longer played upon him. 
 
 He was awake, but still he gave no signs of bcin* so. 
 
 He was thinking. 
 
 He had fallen into a deep revery. 
 
 Circumstances had [now assumed so complicated a 
 character that a little clear-headed thought was indis- 
 pensable. 
 
 And so the thief-taker took the present opportunity as 
 being one well suited to the purpose. 
 
 His reflections ran somewhat in this strain. 
 
 " What am I to think of this ? In what way will it 
 end ? How is it that I, who have ever prided myself in 
 succeeding in everything I undertook, should be so 
 baffled ? How is it that those designs, which would be 
 successful on any one else, are useless against Jack Shep- 
 pard ? Is there such a thing as an evil spirit in human 
 form, who dogs his unhappy victim in every enterprise he 
 takes in hand, and frustrates it ? I have heard some pert 
 sons before now broach such a theory. If it is correct; 
 then assuredly does my evil spirit exhibit itself in the 
 person of Jack Sheppard. But pho — pho ! Speculation 
 of that kind is foolish ! 
 
 " I have sworn to hang him at Tyburn, and I will keep 
 my oath, though everything in heaven and hell should 
 swear against — even if I knew that I myself shouH perish 
 the moment afterwards. But that shall not be. Let me 
 think calmly, if I can, of what has taken place. I want 
 some brandy. That would assist me vastly." 
 
 But jua* then there was no brandy at hand, and the 
 thief-takei did not feel inclined to take the trouble to get 
 or call for any. Tho thoughts we have set down coursed 
 each other, one after another, through his brain, as 
 thoughts sometimes will when one lies in a state half 
 between sleeping and waking. 
 
 At such a time tho body is powerless to obey tho will, 
 or rather the will is not strong enough to exert its due iu« 
 fluence upon the body. 
 
 Jonathan continued his reflections. 
 
 " Let me thiuk. Now, when they made their escape 
 over the wall into Newgate-market, they must have gone 
 down Warick-lane towards Ludgate-hill. I have proof 
 positive that they did so. They have disappeared. Where, 
 I should wonder, have they found a hiding-place ? " 
 
 This was a question that he perplexed his brain in vain 
 to find an answer to, so at length he was obliged to giv6 
 it up in despair. 
 
 " Never mind where they have concealed themselves," 
 he added at last, " I shall be sure to find out before 
 long. I will consider that point as being quite settled. 
 Now the next thing is, how shall I proceed when I get 
 them all three once more in my power ? 
 
 " Blueskin and Jack Sheppard I have already agreed as 
 to the disposal of. The latter is now under sentence of 
 death, so I shall have no further trouble with him, with- 
 out it would be to swear to his identity. Then, as for 
 Blueskin, it would bo the easiest matter in the world to 
 procure a conviction on some capital crime, and he shall 
 swing at Tyburn, too. How I wish that time had come, 
 and that the bodies were swinging to and fro in the morn- 
 ing air. Then, indeed, would my troubles be over, and I 
 should be able to carry out my plans successfully. €♦ 
 
 " The revenues and the broad acres which comprise (he 
 Donmull estate I have resolved shall he mine, and when 
 I resolve upon a. thing it is as good as accomplished. 
 I have made up my mind as to the means. I will 
 force this Edgworth Bess, as they call be (for she 
 is, without the shadow of a doubt, th ' rightful 
 heiress) into a marriage with me ; and surely tnat wouid 
 be a means at once simple, easy, and agreeable. 
 Unfortunately, the girl is not of age, but she soon will be. 
 I must get her and keep her securely until that day 
 arrives, and then I shall be able to use such arguments 
 that ehe will find it impossible to refuse me. Yea, such 
 shall be my course. It is clear and straightforward, and 
 the obstacles that stand in my path are comparatively few 
 in number. 
 
 " Then there is Lord Donmull, as he calls himself.
 
 BLTJESKm: A R01TANCE. 
 
 341 
 
 Well, for the present lie is safe, and I need not trouble 
 myself any further just now concerning him. I can make 
 up my mind as to his ultimate disposal at any time. lie 
 is a weak fool, or he might have ei?joyed the property for 
 some time yet ; but he was free to choose, and he has 
 made his choice, so it is but fair that he should abida by it 
 Then I shall retire from this harassing life I have been 
 leading. It is wearing mo out. I can feel it is, but then 
 I shall hare rest — plenty of rest ; and as the husband of 
 Lady Donmull I should be forgotten and unrecognised as 
 the notorious thief-taker. I shall not go to her with an 
 empty pocket. I have riches now sufficient to satisfy 
 even an avaricious man, and with such wealth at my dis- 
 posal I shall, after the lapse of a few years, be able to 
 purchase a transfer of the title to myself, and then 
 Jonathan Wild will bo henceforward known as Lord 
 Donmull!" 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXV. 
 
 THE TUKEE FUGITIVES FIND ST. TAUL'S CATHEDRAL NOT 
 SUCH A COSIFOUTABLE PLACE OF UEFUGE AFTER ALL. 
 
 It would have been no bad thing if some one had been at 
 hand to warn Jonathan Wild of the folly of counting his 
 chickons before they were hatched. 
 
 The occupation of castle building in the air is, how- 
 ever, found to be a pleasant occupation by almost all 
 parties, and the thief-taker was no exception. It was so 
 delightful to he there in that state of semi-somnolency and 
 picture what he should do. 
 
 He, however, felicitated himself rather too early, and 
 looked upon the thing as already done when it actually 
 was not begun. 
 
 The plan he had laid down was most certainly a very 
 good one — perhaps the best that could have been devised 
 to answer the end intended. 
 
 But then, like all other schemes, it depended for 
 realization upon a great many contingences, and should 
 any of these turn out different to what he expected, the 
 whole complexion of affairs would be altered. 
 
 There was a great deal to be done yet. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Blueskin were at large, and they 
 had Edgworth Bess under their protection. 
 
 Of that, however, as his reflections will servo to show, 
 the thief-taker did not seem to think much. 
 
 True, they had eluded him, and their present where- 
 abouts was quite unknown to him ; but he relied upon 
 hearing something ere long which would enable him to 
 effect their capture ; and he made up his mind that if Jack 
 Sheppard once more fell into his hands, he would take 
 euch precautions as to make it a matter of total impossi- 
 bility for him to escape. 
 
 He cursed himself for his remissness on former occa- 
 sions, and yet, when he thought upon the subject, he 
 could not help feeling a certain amount of admiration for 
 the daring youth who had twice done what no other man 
 bad ever dreamed of accomplishing. 
 
 But Jonathan soon banished that feeling. 
 
 He had reasoned himself into one course of action, and 
 he determined to follow it. There was something antago- 
 nistic between Jack Sheppard and himself, and he felt 
 sure that none of his schemes would be brought to a suc- 
 cessful end if he was alive, for hitherto had he not sprang 
 up and thwarted every one ? 
 
 Jonathan's thoughts turned most upon the present situa- 
 tion of those three persons whose capture he was so 
 anxious to effect. 
 
 " They are hiding," he said. " I am sure of it. They 
 must be hiding. But where ? Not far off, I'll be bound ; 
 perhaps under my nose. Well, wo shall see. I will have 
 spies posted in every direction, whose special business it 
 shall be to look for them. Then, when they make their 
 appearance — as they must do sooner or later — then I shall 
 know my course. I will have a horse prorided and a 
 band of mounted men in readiness. Then I will put my- 
 self upon their track, and if I lose sight of them this time, 
 I will never try to capture them again. But I shall fellow 
 them — I shall hunt them to earth — then I shall triumph, 
 and all that I have aimed at shall be mine. 
 
 " Oh ! what a difference it would havo made to me if 
 I could have had Jack Sheppard on my side ! If he had 
 ever been at hand — not liko he is now, to thwart my plans, 
 but to aid mo in them ! But I must not think of that. I 
 have sworn ho shall die *t Tyburn, and I will keep my 
 
 oath. I have an old score to settle with him : his father 
 once struck me, then crossed mo in an affair which I had 
 near at heart. I took an oath that I would be revenged 
 upon him, and I was, for less than a month afterwards ho 
 swung at Tyburn! And there this accursed brat of his 
 shall follow him, or, confound him! I shall know no 
 peace ! " 
 
 Having reached this point in hia reflections, Jonathan 
 rose, with tho intention of putting some of his resolve? 
 iuto execution. 
 
 He spent but a very few moments over his toilette, and 
 then went downstairs. 
 
 He then found that midday had passsd. 
 
 Tho pangs of hunger began to make themselves apparent 
 now that he was so thoroughly rested, but before ho 
 attempted to satisfy them, he called Quilt on ono side, 
 and gave him various instructions relative to posting the 
 spies. 
 
 The order was obeyed immediately, and various mem- 
 bers of Wild's gang were communicated with, who placed 
 themselves in various positions about the metropolis to 
 keep good watch upon every one they saw, and in the 
 event of either of the three fugitives coming under their 
 notice, they were by no means to lose sight of them, but 
 communicate without delay with tho great thief-taker 
 himself. 
 
 This having been done, Jonathan Wild, feeling much 
 stronger and better than he had done for days past, went 
 over to the eating-house in Giltspur-street, where he dis- 
 patched a hearty meal. 
 
 Under such circumstances as these wo feel that we can 
 leave him for a time while we repair to St. Paul's Cathe- 
 dral, beneath which roof ai'e those in whom wo feel a 
 much greater interest than we can in the villainous thief- 
 taker. 
 
 The night passed away without their meeting with an 
 interruption of any kind. 
 
 Edgworth Bess slept calmly and quietly upon tho soft 
 cushions of the pew. 
 
 At length, when morning came and a faint light strug- 
 gled in at the windows of the cathedral, showing that, ere 
 long, the interior of the place would be illuminated by the 
 sun, Blueskin, who was watching, touched Jack Sheppard, 
 who was asleep, on the arm and woke him. 
 
 For a moment Jack could not think in what strange 
 place he was, but he saw his companion by his side, and 
 then recollected all. 
 
 " Jack, I have been thinking for this last half-hour or 
 so." 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " Many things, but chiefly what we should do with our- 
 selves when daylight came. 1 ' 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " We cannot remain where we now are. You must be 
 aware that during the day not a portion of the cathedral 
 remains unvisited by some one or other." 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 " Now this will only bo a good hidiug-place for us so 
 long as we are not suspected to be in it, but the moment 
 that is known, it will be the most dangerous place in the 
 world." 
 
 " Very true ; I had not thought of that." 
 
 " Bess still slumbers. Now you can tell, by the faint 
 light which finds its way in here that morning is coming 
 on apace, and therefore it behoves us to make up our 
 minds quickly as to where we shall secrote ourselves dur- 
 ing the remainder of the day. When the officials arrive 
 it will be too late." 
 
 " So it will. And have you been thinking about all 
 this ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then I should not be afraid to say that yo* have 
 thought of some place where we can safely hide our- 
 selves." 
 
 " I can't say but what I havo, Jack ; still I should like 
 you to reflect as well as myself. I can only think of one 
 placo, and that has some disagreeables connected with it, 
 so I would fain find another." 
 
 " Well, let me think. What placo is tho least visited ? 
 Why, I know!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I hnve heard many a time that underneath St. Pail's 
 Cathedral there are numberless vaulted passages. Tioy 
 are like the streets in a town. That will be tho place for
 
 342 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 ua. Why, if it is like the description I have heard of it, 
 we could hide there till doomsday." 
 
 "That is the very place I had myself thought of." 
 
 " Is it ? Then why did you hesitate about it ? " 
 
 " Why, a churchyard vault is not a very pleasant place 
 to he in, that utall." 
 
 " But that is nothing." 
 
 " Well, perhaps not' to you and me, hut you must think 
 who we have with us." 
 
 " Edgworth Bess?" 
 
 " Yes. She may bo alarmed and terrified at the idea of 
 being in such a place." 
 
 " I think not. At any rate, we can but ask her." 
 
 " Very true ; but, before we do so, I should like to try 
 and find some other place that offered equal chances of 
 security." 
 
 " You had better abandon that idea at ouce, ray friend, 
 because I am quite sure you would not succeed. We 
 ought not to lose any time, either. Look how £ut it is 
 getting 'ight." 
 
 " It is." 
 
 "And you must recollect that we have got the entrance 
 to the vaults to find, and that may take some time." 
 
 " Yes. Two heads are always better than one. I never 
 gave that a moment's thought." 
 
 " Wo may have some difficulty, you know, in getting 
 into the vaults, for they take care to make everything 
 wonderfully secure." 
 
 " They do." 
 
 "Let us start at once, thou." 
 
 " And Edgworth Bess ? " 
 
 •« What ? " 
 
 "Shall we wake her?" 
 
 " No, leave her where she is." 
 
 " Then we must not go out of earshot." 
 
 " Oh ! no ; for if she happened to wake up and find wo 
 woro not near her, she would be terribly alarms. ; besides 
 which, I should not like to go far away, fo? fear that 
 something should happen to her." 
 
 " Ah ! Jack, it is a thousand pities that you could not 
 have been content with being a friend to her, without 
 being a lover into the bargain. I can see how the land 
 lies. She likes you as well as you do her. A blind man 
 could see that. Well, Jack, I must say again that it is a 
 thousand pities, and I am heartily sorry for you both. 
 Nothing but ill can come of it — I am sure of that ; and, 
 mark me, if my words don't come true." 
 
 "Don't prophecy any more evil for us," said Jack, 
 forcing a light laugh, though in secret he was much moved 
 by the forebodings to which Blueskin had just given 
 utterance. " I am sure we have got trouble enough ! " 
 
 " We have, indeed. I only wish I could see the end of 
 it. How it is all to end is more than either you or I can 
 see at present." 
 
 " We must not get upon that subject now. We agreed 
 not to talk over our plans until Edgworth Bess was with 
 us/and could hear and approve of them. You forget what 
 we have to do." 
 
 " No, I do not." 
 
 "Then come, let us at once set about finding some' 
 means of entering the vaults." 
 
 Blueskin rose, and he and Jack left the pew in which 
 they had passed the night, but, before they went away, 
 they were careful to restore it to its original condition, 
 and close the door. 
 
 Then on tiptoe they crossed the aisle and peeped into 
 the pew in which Edgworth Bess was sleeping. 
 
 She was all safe and well, so they set about their 
 exploring expedition without further delay. 
 
 The interior of the cathedral was now tolerably well 
 illuminated, so that they were able to make their way 
 about it without much trouble. 
 
 They ran no risk of comiug in contact with any of i he 
 numerous objects in the interior. 
 
 To any one coming into St. Paul's, however, from tho 
 open daylight, the <«ithedral would have appeared to bo in 
 total darkness. 
 
 But to our friends, who had been there so many hours, 
 and whose eyes had become accustomed to the gloom, the 
 fuint twilight which was dispersed about tho sacred 
 edifice seemed to them like broad day. 
 
 Indeed, philosophers assert that on this earth no such 
 thing as total and utter darkness ever prevails, and 
 instances are on record where prisoners havo been con- 
 
 fined in dungeons, and who have been unable to distinguish 
 anything, have by degrees, as their eyes have become 
 accustomed to the obscurity, been able to discern the walls, 
 and even the rats and mice with which the dungeon was 
 infested. 
 
 So Blueskin walked about in ease and safety, and was 
 able to see everything. 
 
 But for a long time their search for some means of 
 reaching the vaults beneath the church was an unsuccessful 
 one ; until at length Jack pointed out to his companion a 
 small door set in a recess, and which had escaped Blue- 
 skin's eye. 
 
 Jack's younger and keener vision, however, detected it. 
 
 " This promises to be the very thing wo want/' he said j 
 " but how are wo to get the door open ? " 
 
 " It may be unfastened." 
 
 " No, it is fast ; and the only securement I can find is a 
 lock." 
 
 " Let me look at it." 
 
 " Here you are, then." 
 
 Jack stepped out of the little recess in which the door 
 was situated, and allowed Blueskin to enter it. 
 
 It was a low, arched door, having all the appearanco of 
 leading to the vaults. 
 
 It was string, and crossed in many directions with bands 
 of iron. 
 
 Blueskin felt for tho keyhole.^ 
 
 It was of enormous size, for in those days the idea was 
 in full prevalence that for a lock to be strong and seouro it 
 must of" necessity be large. 
 
 Indeed, its strength and security were always con- 
 sidered in proportion to its weight and size. 
 
 The key of this one, for instance, was so large that 
 Blueskin was able to introduce his finger into it without 
 any trouble. 
 
 " I don't know what to do with this, Jack," he said. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " The keyhole is so largo." 
 
 " But you have skeleton keys." 
 
 "Yes; but none anything like largo enough for this 
 lock. If I had a good-sized nail, now, I might do some- 
 thing." 
 
 " That would be a funny thing to pick a lock with." 
 
 '-' Not at all. A strong nail hooked at one end is the 
 best thing in the world. I will show you the knack." 
 
 "What with?" 
 
 " Well, n»t a nail, but the instrument that I lifted the 
 trap-door with that leads into Wild's warehouse." 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " I had forgotten all about it, but it will be just the 
 thing. Here you are." 
 
 Blueskin put the crooked instrument into the keyhole. 
 
 A clicking noise followed, and then there was a snap, 
 which showed that the bolt of the lock had been shot back 
 into its setting. 
 
 The door creaked open. 
 
 What was beyond they could not tell, though Jack 
 peeped over Blueskiu's shoulder and strainod his eyes to 
 the utmost. 
 
 A damp earthy smell, however, saluted their nostrils, 
 which made them think that a charnel-house was not far 
 distant. 
 
 " We must light the taper," said Blueskin, " before we 
 can see what this place is like. It may not lead to the 
 vaults after all." 
 
 " I hopo so, after all the trouble wo have taken." 
 
 " So do I, but wo shall know in a moment." 
 
 Blueskin again produced his box of phosphorus and 
 thieves' matches, as thoy wore called, and ignited the 
 little piece of wax taper. 
 
 The flame burst up slowly and steadily. 
 
 A draught of cold air, which came from the open door, 
 threatened every moment its extinguishment, but Blueskin 
 shaded the flame with his hand and cautiously stepped 
 forward. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXV1. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS IS UNFORTUNATE ENOUOH TO BN- 
 COUNTER JONATHAN WILD IN ST. PAULV CUUaCH- 
 YARD. 
 
 By standing fairly on tho threshold of the door, the current 
 of air was in a gi'eat measure done away with, and then 
 Blueskin saw that ho stood at the top of a flight of stono
 
 BLUESK.ru : A EOMANCE. 
 
 343 
 
 steps, which seemed to lead down to tho very foundations 
 of the cathedral. ^ 
 
 Very slimy and damp, and overgrown with a kind of 
 green parasitio moss were those steps, and, indeed, they 
 presented every appearance of not having been made use 
 of for many years. 
 
 " This is all in our favour," said Blueskin. " I do not 
 suppose, if we had searched the whole place through, we 
 should have found anything that suited ns sc well. 
 think the best thing we can do is to go and wake Bess 
 and take up our quarters here at once, for, if we 'rere to 
 be seen, we should be quite done for." 
 
 "Evidently." 
 
 " Then let us go and wake hi, 1 ?. ' 
 
 " I will do so, said Jack, " iNou will remain here. I 
 will bring her, and then wo sha£ not have the trouble of 
 finding this particular place again." 
 
 This was a by no means unnecessary precaution, for in 
 that vast place, if they had once lost the door, they would 
 have had a great deal of trouble in finding it again. 
 
 Blueskin consented to this arrangement, and Jack 
 hastened to the pew where he had left Edgworth Bess 
 
 _ She was asleep still, and, with a boating heart, he asked 
 himself whether sho was dead, for she had slept unin- 
 terruptedly. 
 
 He listened, and then his fears wero dispelled, for in 
 the silence of tho sacred edifice he could hear her breath- 
 ing. 
 
 Reassured, he called to her in a low voice and awakoned 
 her. 
 
 At first she was startled, but tho sound of his voice was 
 familiar to her ears, and the moment she heard it, she 
 felt safe to a certain extent. 
 
 " You must leave this place," said Jack ; " it will bo 
 unsafe to stay here any longer, because of the many 
 persons who come to visit the cathedral. Blueskin is at 
 a little distance off. We shall have to seek a fresh shelter 
 during the day." 
 
 " Anywhere with you, Jack, no matter where it is. I 
 will obey you in all things. Where is Wild ? " 
 
 " I havo heard nothing of him, and, therefore, I begin 
 to hope that for the present we are safe from his persecu- 
 tions/' 
 
 "Oh! I trust so." 
 
 " Come with me as quickly as you can, for Blueskin is 
 awaiting us, and every moment that we stay will be dan- 
 gerous to us." 
 
 " I am ready, Jack." 
 
 Edgworth Bess opened the pew door and stepped out 
 into the aisle. 
 
 As soon asshe had done so, Jack entered and put the 
 cushions straight, leaving them just as they were at first. 
 
 He also closed the pew door. 
 
 Then, taking the hand of Edgworth Bess in his own, he 
 led her to the spot where Blueskin was waiting for them. 
 
 As yet there were no signs of any one entering the 
 cathedral, but, as it was fully daylight, there was no 
 knowing how soon visitors might be expected. 
 
 On reaching tho little dcor in the recess, Blueskin went 
 first down about half-a-dozen of the steps, and then stood 
 in readiness to assist Bess to descend, who came next. 
 
 Jack brought up the rear. 
 
 As he passed through the portal, Blueskin said to 
 him — 
 
 " Close tho door aftor you. If yon look you will find a 
 couple of bolts on the inner side. You had better draw 
 them, and then you will secure us from intrusion." 
 
 This was good policy, for not only would it have the 
 effect Blueskin had mentioned, but it would also serve to 
 prevent the fact of the door having been unlocked being 
 noticed. 
 
 This done, they commenced the descent ©f th$ uJippery 
 stone steps. 
 
 Blueskin went first, cautiously holding the light, and 
 Bhowing the way to bis two companions. 
 
 It was positively necessary for them to support them- 
 selves by the walls, or they would never have been able to 
 maintain their footing. 
 
 Tho flight of steps was of great length, but at last the 
 bottom was reached, and then our three friends found 
 themselvea standing in a kind of vaulted passage, which 
 stretched out to the right and the left from the bottom of 
 tlic s'.cpa. 
 
 On gaining this place, all three stopped to look about 
 them, and then, by Blueskin's advice, they turned to the 
 right. 
 
 The atmosphere in that gloomyplace was very attenuated, 
 and it was with considerable difficulty that they breathed, 
 while every moment the little wax taper seemed on >he 
 point of expiring. 
 
 But it struggled manfully against the foul air that was 
 in the place. 
 
 Blueskin kept on, in the hope that they would, ere long, 
 come to a more comfortable place, where they could wait 
 until tho day had passed away, but every step he took the 
 passage seemed to get worse, so at last he was obliged to 
 come to a halt altogether. 
 
 It was then agreed that they should turn back and re- 
 trace their steps until they came to the flight of stone 
 steps which they had descended, and then keep on past 
 them, it the hope that it would lead them to a more salu- 
 brious region. 
 m And certainly they found, as they proceeded, that the 
 air got better and better, though, of course, it was impure 
 in the extreme. 
 
 The passage terminated at the bottom of another flight 
 of steps, and, from their breadth, and the scrupulous 
 manner in which they were brushed, our friends came to 
 the conclusion that they had reached the regular entrance 
 to the vaults. 
 
 After a little deliberation, they agreed to ascend theso 
 as far as the door, which was doubtless at the top, and 
 then sit down upon them and wait. 
 
 This was poor accommodation, but still it was tha best 
 that offered itself. 
 
 At the top of the stairs, as they had expected, they found 
 a door. 
 
 It was massive in its character, and the whole of the 
 fastenings were upon the outside. 
 But in the upper part of it was a large iron grating. 
 Jack looked through this and found that it commandod 
 a view of a large portion of the cathedral. 
 
 A number of beams of light found their way through 
 this grating, making the wax taper quite unnecessary, so 
 it was extinguished. 
 
 Our friends then found themselves in a dim kind of twi • 
 light, but still it was amply sufficient for them. 
 
 Here, then, they agreed to remain during the whole of 
 the day, provided they were not interrupted, and to talk 
 over their plans for future operations. 
 
 To guard against any sudden surprise, and from eaves- 
 droppers, Blueskin and Jack agreed to take it in turns to 
 6tand at the grating and look into the church, so as to 
 give notice of any one's approach. 
 
 Then they commenced laying down their plans aud 
 speculating upon the movements of their enemies; but it 
 is unnecessary to set this down in full, as their plans will 
 best develop themselves in action. 
 
 More than once during their conversation they had to 
 pause, for fear they should be overheard by tho visitors, 
 some of whom came very close to the door. 
 
 But as one was always on the watch, no alarm was 
 given. 
 And so the day passed. 
 
 There was one thing, however, which, though present 
 in the minds of all, neither liked to touch upon. 
 And that one thing was, what were they to do for food ? 
 The question was a serious and important one. 
 Many hours had elapsed since anything in the shape of 
 lood had passed the lips of either of them, but now all felt 
 in full acuteness the pangs of hunger, and they had done 
 so for a long time. 
 
 And yet, with praiseworthy stoicism, not one breathed to 
 the other a word of complaint. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin, however, felt far more keenly for 
 their fair companion than they did for themselves. 
 
 They knew how she must be suffering, and yet- she had 
 not once murmured. 
 And ao the hours dragged slowly by. 
 Gradually conversation ceased. 
 
 They found that the action of their lungs produced by 
 talking increased their pangs, and so they all became 
 gradually silent. 
 
 There were many no doubt who, happy in tho posses- 
 sion of all they desired, felt that day to glide swiftly away 
 and for night to come upon them almost before they were 
 aware of it ; but it might safely be said that there weio
 
 t 344 
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 no creatures on this earth to whom it passed more slowly 
 and more wearisomely than it did to the three fugitives in 
 the vaults beneath St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 At length Edgworth Bess, who had stood out as long as 
 she was able, gave way. 
 
 She did not expect any relief, but sho could not main- 
 tain the concealment of her sufferings any longer. 
 She appealed to Jack. 
 Blueskin was watching at the grating. 
 
 " Jack," she said. " J— J— " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " I am so very, very hungry, Jack. Oh ! what shall I 
 do ? I never suffered so before." 
 She burst into tears as she spoke. 
 
 " I know you are hungry," said Jack, in a voice of deep 
 emotion, " and I can tell by my own sufferings what your's 
 must bo like. I can do nothing to help you, I am afraid, 
 until it grows darker, and then, perhaps, I may manage." 
 
 "But at what risk?" 
 
 " Never mind the risk, darling. You must not De 
 allowed to perish of starvation." 
 
 " Nor mnst you lose your life to procure me food. Oh ! 
 Jack, what shall we do ? " 
 
 " I will ask Blueskiu." 
 
 " I have heard all that has passed," he said, as soon as 
 he heard his name mentioned. " and I have thought of a 
 plan." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " To get you food." 
 
 " I know ; but what is the plan ? " 
 
 " I will go back to the door through which we came, 
 and open it." 
 
 "And emerge into the body of the cathedral?" 
 
 " Yes. I have noticed thnt it is full of visitors, and I 
 shall not bo noticed among the number, I think. I will 
 go out and buy as much provisions as I can stow about 
 me unperceived, and then return, if you will be at the door 
 waiting to receive me." 
 
 " No — no," said Jack ; " the risk is too great." 
 
 "Do you think so?" 
 
 " Yes. Let me go instead." 
 
 " Nonsense ! the risk is twice as much for vou as it is 
 for me. Rely upon it, I will return in safety . 
 
 " There is only one thing which would induce me to 
 accede to such a proposition," replied Jack, " and that is 
 for the sake of Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " It is for her sake I make it," said Blueskin. 
 
 " Then you shall not go," exclaimed Edgworth Bess. 
 " Indeed, you shall not." 
 
 " But I shall." 
 
 " No ; and I will give you a good reason why you shall 
 not." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Both you and Jack are well known to many person?, 
 and would be in imminent danger of recognition." 
 
 " We don't dispute that j but it can't be helped." 
 
 " It can." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Most easily." 
 
 "Tell us." 
 
 "I will go." 
 
 "You?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " It is impossible." 
 
 " I cannot see that. I am known to Jonathan Wild 
 only, and, therefore, do not run the risk that you do ; be- 
 sides, I could purchase the things that we require without 
 exciting suspicion, which you certainly would." 
 
 " But neither Jack nor myself would ever consent to 
 allowing you to run into so much danger." 
 
 " I consider I should be in the least danger of all. 
 Grant mo the favour. Let me go. I will take every care, 
 but we cannot die of starvation." 
 
 " We cannot." 
 
 " Consent— it will be best for all of us." 
 
 Jack and Blueskin held a whispered consultation with 
 each other, the end of which was that they consented to 
 allow Edgworth Bess to emerge into the cathedral to pur- 
 chase food. 
 
 They retraced their steps to the bottom of the flight of 
 etone skr a which in the fir3t instance they all three had 
 descended. 
 
 On reaching the top they noiselessly withdrew the bolta, 
 and then listened. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 Cautiously, then, they opened the door to the extent oi 
 about a coupleof inches, and Jack peeped out. 
 
 No one was in sight. 
 
 lie beckoned Edgworth Bess towards him, and opened 
 the door wide enough for her to pass out of it. 
 
 She glided through the portal like a shadow, and Jack 
 closed the door behind her. 
 
 Oh ! how anxious and alarmed he felt when he found 
 that sho had really gone. 
 
 He could hardly restrain himself from going after her, 
 but, fortunately for both, he was stronger than the im- 
 pulse. 
 
 He did not shut the door quite close, but left it ajar, so 
 he crouched down on the top of the steps, and peeped 
 through the crevice. 
 
 Minute after minute elapsed, and every one that passed 
 away increased his anxiety to a tenfold degree, and over 
 and over again he repented that he had suffered her to 
 depart. 
 
 But these regrets were useless, and came too late. 
 
 The only thing ho could do now was to wait in patience 
 in expectation of her return. 
 
 But she came not. 
 
 He did not, however, give her time sufficient. 
 
 But to him she seemed to have been gone an age. 
 
 His suspense became dreadful. 
 
 It was shared to the full by his faithful comrade, 
 Blueskin. 
 
 At last, however, when they had both worked them- 
 selves up to an unbearable pitch of excitement, Jack's 
 quick ear caught the sound of a light footstep. 
 
 The next moment he saw Edgworth Bess approaching. 
 
 He rose from his crouching posture, and pulled the 
 door open. 
 
 The poor girl rushed in, breathless and agitated. 
 
 " What is the matter ? " asked Jack. " What 
 alarmed you ? " 
 
 " Quick — quick ! Close the door — bolt it — bolt 
 Ah ! that is well. Now we are safe ! " 
 
 " For heaven's sake tell me what is the matter ? " 
 
 " Here is food. I have been lucky enough to procure 
 that — but — but " 
 
 " What, oh ! what ? " 
 
 " Just as I was crossing to the churchyard, which I did 
 hastily, I ran against some one who was going iu the 
 opposite direction. I heard an awful curse. I looked up, 
 and saw that I had run against Jonathan Wild ! " 
 
 has 
 it! 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXVII. 
 
 WITH A GREAT DEAL OF LABOUR AND DIFFICULT?, THE 
 THREE FUGITIVES SUCCEED IN MAKING THEIR ESCAPE 
 FROM THE VAULTS OF ST. PAUL'S. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " exclaimed Jack Sheppard and 
 Blueskin in a breath, for they could scarcely believe their 
 ears. " Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " Yes, even him." 
 
 " Did he know you ? " 
 
 " I fancy so, but I did not wait to see. I ran into the 
 cathedral as fast as I could." 
 
 " Did he pursue you ? " 
 
 " That is more than I can tell for certain." 
 
 " What an unlucky chance. This will serve ns for a 
 retreat no longer." 
 
 "You haje had a very narrow escape," said Jack. 
 
 " I have, indeed. I have been so alarmed. But eat. 
 Leok, here is food ; and then, when you have satisfied 
 your hunger, it will be time for you to think of escaping 
 from Wild." 
 
 " That is good advice," responded Blueskin. " We can 
 do nothing in our present exhausted state." 
 
 The small quantity of eatables Edgworth Bess was able 
 to obtain was shared out. 
 
 The keenness of their hunger gave them a relish, and 
 it had disappeared in an incredible short space of time. 
 
 " I think," said Jack, " that the best thing we can do 
 is to retrace our steps to the principal eutranco to the 
 vaults, and from which place we can obtain a view of the 
 body of the cathedral." 
 
 "To be sure," coincided Blueskin. "Wo should then 
 be able to see whether a disturbance of r.ny kind was
 
 BLUE3KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 345 
 
 lTHE*THREE FUGITIVES MAKE ANOTHER EFFORT TO ESCAPE.] 
 
 taking place in the body of the cathedral, and take our 
 measures accordingly." 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 Once more, with Blueskin leading the way, they 
 directed their course to the flight of broad stone steps 
 leading up to the door which formed the principal entrance 
 to the vaults. 
 
 They glanced eagerly through the grating. 
 
 Their worst suspicions were realized. 
 
 A scene of the greatest confusion was taking place iu 
 the body of the cathedral, and conspicuously above all 
 was the form of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He bad a number of men with him. 
 
 The thief -taker was gesticulating furiously, and it was 
 evident he was on their track, and about to thoroughly 
 search the huge edifice. 
 
 This was enough. 
 
 More our friends did not want to see. 
 
 All they had to do now was to make the best of their 
 *ime, and find some means of exit from the vaults. 
 
 But where was that exit to be found ? 
 
 Into what place could they hope to emerge ? 
 
 That time must determine. 
 
 The passage certainly went no further than the steps 
 upon which they stood. 
 
 They had no choice of routes. 
 
 They must keep straight on in the direction they had 
 at first taken, namely, towards that spot from which they 
 had had to return in consequence of the foulness of the 
 atmosphere. 
 
 With many misgivings the lamp was again lighted, and 
 they took their way along the gloomy and pestiferous 
 
 Suddenly, however, there came to their ears, though in 
 a subdued and muffled fashion, as though at a great dis- 
 tance, the sound of some heavy blows struck against a 
 hollow substance. 
 
 This added a fresh impulse to their speed. 
 
 But the taper gave them great anxiety, for it seemed 
 next to an impossibility to keep it alight, owing to the 
 speed they were obliged to make. 
 
 No. 44.
 
 Presently, however, they fouud their passage barred 
 by a door. 
 
 Jack hastened forward to examine it. 
 
 He could see no fastenings, so he trie! to push it 
 open. 
 
 It would not movo. 
 
 But, upon exerting a greater pressure, it gave way, 
 having got stuck in its framework by the damp. 
 
 The moment this door was opened, they were rewarded 
 with a gush of fresh air which came through it. 
 
 The taper now revived, and gave out quite a brilliant 
 light. 
 
 They pushed eagerly forward through this door. 
 
 Jack, however, turned back to see if he could find any 
 fastenings to it on the other side, but there were none. 
 
 Aud now the appearance of the passage totally changed 
 its character. 
 
 Hitherto it had been arched and bricked, but now it 
 was only cut out of the solid earth, and both walls and 
 roof were composed of black-looking soil. 
 
 The floor beneath their feet was moist and sticky. 
 
 But paying no heed to this trifling inconvenience, they 
 pushed along with all the speed they possibly could, in the 
 hope of finding a way out. 
 
 Whereabouts they were was more than they could tell. 
 Whether the cathedral was above them, or whether they 
 had- got altogether beyond its precincts, was more than 
 they knew, though such knowledge, if they had only pos- 
 sessed it, would have proved of infinite value to them in 
 their present position. 
 
 On, on they went, the passage seeming endless; but 
 they noticed as they advanced that it got more and more 
 confiued in its dimensions. 
 
 Their pursuers, if they had been clever enough to get 
 precisely on their track (which was scarcely likely), were 
 nowhere within hearing, so there was some hope to be 
 gleaned from that circumstance. 
 
 But at last this passage, which seemed interminable, 
 had an end, and our friends reached it. 
 
 When they did so, they looked about them with some 
 dismay. 
 
 Instead of fiuding the egress they had expected, the 
 passage abruptly terminated with a. mass of earth before 
 them, as though it had been begun and never completed. 
 
 " What is above us, Blue ? " asktd Jack, after they had 
 fully taken in their new position. 
 
 " I wish I knew ! " 
 
 " We must take our chance and find out, for it is -uite 
 certain that the only thing we can do is to bore our >.3y 
 out. We cannot return, and we have only soft earth to 
 deal with." 
 
 " But we have no tools." 
 
 " Then we must make shift without them in the best 
 way we ai-e able." 
 
 " We are in a very awkward positron, Jack." 
 
 "Do not despair, Blue." 
 
 " It is enough to make one, when we reflect a little 
 upon our position. I am afraid you do not fully realize 
 it." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " We are here, just like rats in a trap, waiting to be 
 caught. This passage we have been unfortunate enough 
 to get into is one ot those which were intended to be 
 formed into vaults, but which have never been com- 
 pleted." 
 
 " That's about it." 
 
 " The workmen have gone so far and then left it. Now, 
 if we remaia here, we are sure to be found sooner or later 
 by Jonathan Wild, if we do not perish of starvation in the 
 meantime. If we attempt to leave this place, we must 
 retrace our steps, and the immediate consequence of that 
 will be, we shall fall into our enemies' hands, for, though 
 we are armed and resisted to the last, yet it is absurd for 
 us to hope to obtain the victory over such numbers." 
 
 Upon hearing this dismal account of their position, poor 
 Edgworth Bess's heart sunk within her, and, clasping her 
 hands together, she burst into tears. 
 
 " Oh ! this is all my fault," she sobbed. " It is I alone 
 who have brought you into this great peril. It was my 
 utter carelessness. I ought to have looked where I was 
 Sroinc, and not have run blindly into the arms of Jonathan 
 Wild, and set him upon our track in the way I have 
 done." 
 
 " Do not reproach yourself— pray do not," said Jack, 
 
 soothingly. " No blame attaches itself to you. You run 
 a fearful risk of being immediately captured by that bold 
 bad man, who is the evil star of your existence." 
 
 " But then, if he had taken me in the churchyard, you 
 would have escaped. Now we shall all fall into his 
 hands." 
 
 " No — no. I hope not." 
 
 " Do you think there is room for hope ?" 
 
 " Indeed I do. Blueskin, here, takes rather a gloomy 
 view of our situation, but, then, he is doubtless suffering 
 much anguish from his wound, and that will make a dif- 
 ference to any man. Believe me, I am very far indeed 
 from the thought of relinquishing all hope. I think it 
 quite possible we may ouce more escape from the clutches 
 of our arch enemy, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 These words, which were spoken in a tone of confi- 
 dence, had a cheering influence upon Edgworth Bess, 
 aud she evidently thought their position less desperate 
 than at first. 
 
 Where they stood they could hear no sounds indicative 
 of the approach of their foes. 
 
 In that vast edifice it would be a matter of considerable 
 difficulty for Jonathan Wild, clever as he was in such 
 matters, to get exactly upon their track. 
 
 So many turnings would present themselves to his 
 notice, each offering an equal chance of success, that it 
 would be a matter of impossibility almost for him to hit 
 upon the proper one, without some person's knowledge on 
 the subject which would serve him as a guide. 
 
 Having spoken to Edgworth Bess the words of consola- 
 tion we have recorded, Jack Sheppard looked all around 
 him to find some chance of making their escape. 
 
 At length he addressed his companion. 
 
 " Blue," he said, " I do not see that we stand the ghost 
 of a chance of making our escape, except we adopt the 
 means which I first proposed to you." 
 
 " You mean boriug a passage out ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That will be a work of immense labour." 
 
 " Perhaps not. It may be that we are not far from the 
 surface, and that a few moments' vigorous work may 
 open to us a way to freedom." 
 
 " It is just possible that such may be the case, but in 
 my judgment not at all probable." 
 
 " But we can try, and anyhow it is worth our while." 
 
 " The worst of it is we have no tools." 
 
 " That is awkward, I admit ; but then we have our 
 swords, and with them I should think we shall not have 
 much trouble in making our way through this soft earth. 
 Let us try, at all events." 
 
 There was certainly no harm in doing this, so Blueskin 
 followed the example of Jack Sheppard, and drew his 
 sword. 
 
 The little wax taper was given to Edgworth Bess, and 
 she held it as high up in the air as she could. 
 
 Going, then, to the extremity of the passage, Jack and 
 Blueskin looked closely at the wall of earth that was 
 before them. 
 
 There was, however, very little to see. 
 
 Certainly nothing to choose for a place at which to com- 
 mence their operations. 
 
 But Jack with his sword gave a vigorous thrust at that 
 part of it where it was joined to the roof, or rather where 
 the wall ended and the ceiling began. 
 
 The earth was very soft, for the sword-blade buried it- 
 self immediately. 
 
 " Come on, Blue ; lend us your aid. Bless you ! we 
 shall have no trouble in carving our way out." 
 
 As he 6poke, Jack pulled his sword out again and began 
 picking away the earth. 
 
 It fell down on to the floor of the passage in large 
 lumps. 
 
 This was encouraging, and Blueskin gave his help aa 
 well. 
 
 Edgworth Bess made herself useful by holding the 
 light, and in that way aiding them in their operations. 
 
 They worked with right good will, and they soon made 
 quite a large breach. 
 
 Every moment, too, their task grew lighter, for the 
 earth fell in large portions and with greater ease. 
 
 Blueskin did not like to confess it, but he was terribly 
 fatigued. 
 
 There was, in the first place, his wound, which had 
 never been properly attended to.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 347 
 
 From it a large quantity of blood had effused, and want 
 of rest and food made him more sensible of its loss than 
 he would have been. 
 
 This accounted for the desponding manner in which he 
 epoke when, contrary to the expectations in which he had 
 indulged, he found that there was no outlet to the pas- 
 sage. 
 
 J ack's example, however, had a beneficial effect upon 
 him, and he, to a certain extent, forgot his debilitatiou 
 as he saw the rapid progress they were making in their 
 work. 
 
 There did indeed now seem at least a reasonable pros- 
 pect of their being successful in making their escape. 
 
 Jack worked with uncommon vigour, but then he had 
 every incentive to make the utmost exertion he was able. 
 
 Preseutly, however, Jack felt his sword strike against 
 eome hard substance. 
 
 But, thinking it was merely a stone whicli he had en- 
 countered, he plunged his sword into the earth a few feet 
 further off. 
 
 The same result followed. 
 
 The point of his weapon shmck with the same sharp, 
 metallic sound, against something which it was unable to 
 penetrate. 
 
 But, not daunted by this, he continued his work, satisfied 
 that there was some obstacle in the way, but determined 
 that it should be overcome. 
 
 Accordingly, he removed the earth which covered it, 
 aud then saw that a brick wall was disclosed. 
 
 But it was very dark in colour, and seemed as though 
 it was rapidly crumbling away. 
 
 This effect was doubtless produced by the contact of the 
 damp earth having a corroding influence. 
 
 " What are we to do now ? " asked Blueskin. 
 
 " We must think a moment. Can you hear any sounds 
 of pursuit." 
 
 " No, all seems still." 
 
 " Good, then we have a little while for consideration, 
 and I trust a chance of making our way cut." 
 
 " What do you want to consider ? " 
 
 " Why, if I possibly could, I should like to ascertain 
 whereabouts we are. I mean to try and find out what is 
 overhead." 
 
 " That I am afraid will be very difficult, if not impos- 
 sible." 
 
 " No, I do not think so." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I will tell yon. I have been thinking about it for 
 some time. You know where they are doing the 
 repairs? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " That is at the end of the cathedral nearest Watling- 
 
 " Or Cheapside ? " 
 
 " Just so. It is all the same thing. Now think. Do 
 you recollect which way we took when we entered ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And, then, in which direction the door lay through 
 which we entered the vaults ? " 
 
 "Yes; that was the Watling-street end of the cathedral." 
 
 " Of course it was." 
 
 " Then the stairs curved round as we descended, and 
 when we got to the bottom we found there was a passage 
 going right and left." 
 
 " That is quite correct." 
 
 " Please attend, then. The passage to the left, as you 
 know very well, took us under a part of the cathedral 
 itself." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, then we turned to the right. Now, it appears 
 to me that, as we have come iu a straight line from the 
 foot of the steps, and for a very considerable distauce, we 
 must have passed under the churchyard— under the road 
 that goes round the east end of it, and that we are now 
 somewhere near Watling-street." 
 
 " Stop a minute," said Blueskin j "let me consider." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXVIII. 
 
 OTJE THREE FRIENDS SUCCEED IN MAKING THEIR WAY 
 OUT OF THE VAULTS OF ST. PAUL'S, BUT NOT OUT OF 
 DANGER. 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin placed his hands over his eyes, so 
 as to shut out the view of the objects by which he was 
 
 surrounded, and endeavoured to ascertain whether Jack 
 was correct with respect to their situation. 
 
 When his eyes were thus closed, Blueskin could see 
 before him the cathedral with reference to the position it 
 occupied, and, as he did so, he turned round once or twice, 
 and at length, stopping with his face in one direction, he 
 said — 
 
 " If I am right, I ought now to be directly facing 
 Watling-street, for I have considered our whereabouts 
 very attentively." 
 
 So saying, Blueskin removed his hands from before his 
 face, and, looking straight before him, he found he was 
 exactly opposite the breach which had been made in the 
 wall of the passage. 
 
 This remarkable coincidence with Jack's idea filled 
 them with tolerable security. 
 
 It was scarcely possible for them both to make such a 
 mistake. 
 
 " I am right," said Jack. " Now we are not far from 
 freedom, I hope." 
 
 " What shall you do next ?" 
 
 " Why, break through that wall. It looks quite rotten, 
 and I daresay it will be done easily enough." 
 
 " But what shall you do afterwards ? How do you 
 know where it will take you ? " 
 
 " Why, I take it, we cannot very well tell that until we 
 look. Come Blueskin ! Or, never mind, I think I can 
 manage best without your aid." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack jumped upon the mound of earth 
 which he had dislodged, and fairly got up into the hole 
 excavated. 
 
 Here he screwed himself into as small a compass as 
 possible, and began his operations upon the brick wall. 
 
 As he had said, it was far gone in decay. 
 
 The mortar in between the bricks had totally lost its 
 adhesive quality, and was like so much paste. 
 
 Jack picked as much of this out round one brick as he 
 could, and then, applying a pressure, strove to force it out. 
 
 But he found that would not answer, so he threw down 
 his sword, and took out his clasp-knife. 
 
 The blade of this he inserted in the crevice round the 
 brick, and used it in the same fashion as he would a crow- 
 bar, and to his great satisfaction, the brick moved. 
 
 In a few minutes he got it out. 
 
 His task was then comparatively easy. 
 
 The displacement of this one brick was a key to all the 
 rest, and down they came one after the other, with incred- 
 ible rapidity. 
 
 But behind the first course of bricks was another, and 
 these seemed drier aud stronger than the others. 
 
 The success, however, which had attended his efforts so 
 far inspired Jack with courage, aud he attacked this inner 
 wall with great intrepidity. 
 
 As in the former instance, he first of all got one brick 
 out, and then the others followed. 
 
 When he had made a breach about a foot in diameter, 
 he could not resist the temptation of looking to see what 
 kind of place it was beyond, before he went any further. 
 
 Accordingly he took the taper from the hand of Edg- 
 worth Bess, aud projected it through the orifice. 
 
 He was a long time before he could distinguish any- 
 thing, and then what lie did see was not very satisfactory. 
 
 It appeared to be a kind of vault. 
 
 He communicated this intelligence to his companions, 
 and handed back the light. 
 
 Still undaunted, however, Jack continued his labour, 
 and in less than ten minutes afterwards he hud enlarged 
 the hole sufficiently to allow them to pass through it. 
 
 Then he got down into the passage. 
 
 The exertion he had gone through was immense, and 
 the perspiration literally streamed off him. 
 
 Blueskin was better, and when he saw how much his 
 comrade had accomplished he took heart, and climbed up 
 to the opening himself. 
 
 Having done this, he asked for the light, and announced 
 his intention of getting through and finding out what the 
 place was into which it led. 
 
 To this Jack offered no objection. 
 
 He was much exhausted, but in spite of that he could 
 not keep still, but crept down the passage in order to listen 
 whether there were any sounds which indicated the prox- 
 imity of his foe . 
 
 In the mean.hile Blueskin crawled through the open- 
 ing which was no larger than was necessary.
 
 348 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 He found a bottom beneath bis feet, and then be looked 
 around bim. 
 
 A glanoe was sufficient to satisfy him as to tbe nature of 
 the place into which he had penetrated. 
 
 It was simply a cellar beneath a house. 
 
 Having made this discovery, he did not wait to do more, 
 but climbed through the bole again. 
 
 It was lucky he did so. 
 
 As soon as he reached it he heard Jack say in accents of 
 alarm. 
 
 " Quick — quick, my friend. We are only just in time. 
 Wilcrs men are searching the vaults, and are even now in 
 the passage, or else one that closely adjoins it." 
 
 " Come on, theD. I think we shall elude them after 
 all." 
 
 " What have you discovered ? " 
 
 " That we have made a way into a cellar." 
 
 " Capital, then we shall be able to make our way into 
 the street." 
 
 " I hope so. Bess, dearest, you will, after all, be 
 saved." 
 
 The poor girl uttered a cry of joy. 
 
 But it died away upon her lips as the sounds of Wild's 
 men came, even there, upon her ears. 
 
 " Do not be alarmed," said Jack. " Let me lift you up, 
 and then you will be able to take hold of Blueskin's 
 hands, and he will draw you up in safety." 
 
 Edgworth Bess consented, and Jack raised her in his 
 arms in the best manner he was able. 
 
 Blueskin stuck the wax taper against a portion of the 
 broken masonry, and, leaning down, he took hold of the 
 hands which were held up to him, and lifted her up as 
 gently as he could. 
 
 Jack, too, lent his assistance, and, by the aid of both, 
 the poor persecuted heiress was placed in safety in the 
 cellar of the house into which they had made so singular 
 an entrance. 
 
 The sounds of pursuit which had so alarmed tbem were 
 now inaudible, but it was by no means safe to argue from 
 that circumstance that their pursuers were not close 
 behind them, nevei'theless. 
 
 Not. pausing, then, for a moment, they crossed the 
 cellar. 
 
 It was rather spacious in its extent, and stocked with 
 bales of some kind of merchandize, though of what 
 description they did not look to see. 
 
 They were intent upon other things, that were to them 
 of far greater importance. 
 
 Crossing this cellar, then, as speedily as possible, they 
 came to a door which yielded to their bands, for it was 
 not fastened in any way. 
 
 But it led merely into another cellar, similar to the one 
 they bad just left. 
 
 The only difference was, that it was smaller and empty. 
 
 At tbe end of it was a flight of brick steps, which, lead- 
 ing upward, and that being the direction they wished to 
 take, our friends did not hesitate to ascend them. 
 
 But after mounting about a dozen steps, their further 
 progress was stayed by a door which was immovable in its 
 setting, and resisted the slight effort Jack made to open 
 it. 
 
 The position of our friends was very equivocal, and they 
 were to the full conscious of that disagreeable fact. 
 
 They had no idea whatever into whose dwelling they 
 had made this surreptitious entrance. 
 
 And they were equally ignorant of what was on tbe 
 other side of the door, and what danger they would incur 
 when they passed through it, supposing they were suc- 
 cessful in their attempt to do so. 
 
 More they did not dare to reflect upon. 
 
 The future was so uncertain that they did not dare to 
 speculate upon it. 
 
 But this was certain. 
 
 They could not remain very long where they were, or 
 Jonathan would be upon them. 
 
 Jack Sheppard knew this. 
 
 He knew he must act. 
 
 Had it not been for the incentive which the poor girl 
 who was under his protection was to him, he would never 
 have gone through what he had, or accomplished so many 
 daring feats. 
 
 So, holding up bis hand in an attitude commanding 
 silence, he placed his ear against the panel of the door, 
 and, as a preliminary step, listened intently, in order to 
 
 judge whether there was anything going on upon the 
 other side of it. 
 
 But the silence of the grave seemed to prevail. 
 
 After listening for several seconds, and with the utmost 
 intentness "and acuteness, Jack came to the conclusion 
 that, in that direction at least, there was no one to oppose 
 them. 
 
 Then he took the taper and examined the fastenings of 
 the door. 
 
 They were all upon the outer side, with the exception 
 of the lock. 
 
 But that was so fixed that he could tell at a glance there 
 was no hope of forcing it off. 
 
 He turned to Blueskin and asked him for his bunch of 
 skeleton keys. 
 
 They were handed in silence and, looking at the key- 
 hole, Jack selected one which he imagined would just 
 fit. 
 
 It was a shade too large, but he quickly took another 
 rather smaller, which he inserted and turned round. 
 
 The lock resisted for a moment, and then flew back 
 with a snap that sounded quite alarming in the profound 
 silence. 
 
 In itself, however, the noise was but slight, still Jaok 
 thought it prudent to suspend operations a few minutes 
 while he listened to ascertain whether any alarm had been 
 given. 
 
 But all seemed well, so, gently and cautiously, he opened 
 the door. 
 
 All was darkness beyond. 
 
 Emboldened, then, he pushed the door wide open, and 
 crossed the threshold. 
 
 Blueskin ventured to follow, bringing Edgworth Bess 
 with him. 
 
 He raised the taper in the air, and gave a glance round 
 him, so as to learn in what kind of place he was. 
 
 It was a small chamber, and the use to which it was 
 put was obvious. 
 
 All round it shelves were ranged, and upon most of these 
 were eatables and drinkables of various descriptions. 
 
 There was a door leading out of it and a small window. 
 
 These things were perceptible at a glance, and Jack 
 said — 
 
 " I think the best thing we can do now is to 6peud a 
 minute or two in loading ourselves with these provisions 
 here." 
 
 " So do I, Jack," replied Blueskin. " It won't take 
 long, and between us we can stow a great deal away." 
 
 " And who can say how soon we may stand in need of 
 food, and, perhaps, not have tbe remotest probability of 
 getting any." 
 
 While the remainder of this little conversation con- 
 tinued, both our friends busied themselves with cramming 
 their pockets with eatables of various kinds, and, in the 
 course of a minute or two, they had laid in a considerable 
 supply. 
 
 How to get out was now the next question, but it was 
 soon answered. 
 
 They would get out by the door. 
 
 To their joy they found it was unfastened, so much time 
 and trouble were saved. 
 
 Besides which, the circumstance reminded Jack of some- 
 thing which he ought to have done before, but which 
 there was still plenty of time to do, and that was to 
 properly secure the door at the top of the cellar-steps, so 
 that their foes should have some degree of trouble, at any 
 rate, to pass through it. 
 
 When the door leading out of the pantry was opened, 
 the three fugitives found themselves in a kind of under- 
 ground kitchen. 
 
 But in this place, which was not quite so dark as the 
 pantry, there was no one to be seen. 
 
 It was early morning, and the inhabitants of the house 
 were not yet astir. 
 
 The same care was taken to fasten the pantry-door. 
 
 The key was sticking in the lock, so Jack turned it as 
 well as shot two huge bolts into their sockets. 
 
 With all speed they now made their way across the 
 kitchen, and passing through the door, they arrived at 
 the foot of a flight of steps. 
 
 These they did not hesitate to ascend. 
 
 They terminated in what was called the hall of the 
 house. 
 
 No consultation had been held as to what they were to
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMAKCE. 
 
 349 
 
 do next, nor was anything decided upon, bat Jack and 
 Blueskin instantly and unanimously decided that their 
 best course was to get out of the house as quickly as pos- 
 sible, lest if they lingered Jonathan Wild should take such 
 measures as to make it impossible for them to do so with- 
 out fulling into his hands. 
 
 But though they came to this resolution there were 
 many obstacles to the achievance of it. 
 
 Of course, our friends had no idea of what kind of house 
 they were in, nor of who inhabited it. * 
 
 Neither could they tell whether it was a private resi- 
 dence or a shop, though they conjectured the latter, in 
 consequence of the merchandize which they had seen 
 stowed away in the cellar. 
 
 They did not stop to speculate, however, but taking a 
 hasty glance, endeavoured to decide which was the front 
 of tbe house and which the back. 
 
 Keeping in view the direction they had come, they 
 found that, if their calculations were correct, a turn to the 
 left, after reaching the top of the stairs, would lead them 
 to the front door. 
 
 Accordingly they proceeded in this direction, and to 
 their great satisfaction they found they were quite right. 
 
 They came to a door, and opened it with the aid of a 
 skeleton key. 
 
 This done, they passed through it, and found themselves 
 in what was evidently and unquestionably a shop. 
 
 Drapery goods were ranged on shelves all round it. 
 
 But bestowing only a hasty glance on these, our three 
 friends, with beating hearts, bent their steps to the shop 
 door. 
 
 As the reader must be aware, people when securing 
 their premises nt night, although they take every precau- 
 tion calculated to prevent the entrance of any one, still 
 they very rarely trouble themselves to prevent any one 
 leaving. 
 
 So this shop door, which was provided with a compli- 
 cated series of fastenings, was easily undone from the 
 Inside. 
 
 One by one, Jack Sheppard noiselessly removed them, 
 until at length he had nothing to do but to lift a latch and 
 fling the door open. 
 
 Having reached this point, however, he hesitated. 
 
 To have thrown the door open and emerged at once 
 would have been unwise. 
 
 Somehow or other their pursuers were very tardy. 
 
 What was the meaning of it. 
 
 Was that a part of Jonathan's plan ? 
 
 Perhaps so, for he was a scheming, long-headed man, 
 and nothing pleased him 60 much as to lull his intended 
 victims into a sense of false security, and then suddenly 
 t pounce upon them. 
 
 Or was tbe delay occasioned by the difficulty they found 
 in following the fugitives ? 
 
 These are questions to which time alone can furnish a 
 reply. 
 
 It has taken us some time to relate the proceedings of 
 the three fugitives, but then we have described them in 
 full. 
 
 In reality, however, they occupied a much shorter 
 space of time than it has taken us to relate them. 
 
 But yet, for all that, one would have thought that 
 Jonathan's men, having been once fairly on their track, 
 had had time to come up with them, or at all events to 
 make some demonstration of their proximity. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXXXIX. 
 
 BLUESKIN, JACK SHEPPARD, AND EDGWOETH BES8 HAVE 
 TO BUN THROUGH LONDON STREETS FOR THEIR LIVES. 
 
 And so, with these considerations weighing with full im- 
 portance on his mind, Jack Sheppard stood like a statue 
 with the latch of the door in his hand. 
 
 One step and he should once more be in the open street. 
 
 But what if he should find lying in wait for him outside 
 the door several of Wild's men ? 
 
 It was not at all unlikely. 
 
 And so he waited and listened. 
 
 His two companions in misfortune fully understood him, 
 and they both maintained motionless attitudes, scarcely 
 even allowing themselves to breathe. 
 
 From without there came no sound. 
 
 But suddenly from within there arose a terrifio crash. 
 
 Jonathan's men were in the house. 
 
 There was no longer time for hesitation. 
 
 If any men were lying in ambush they would have to 
 run the risk of that. 
 
 Slowly — cautiously — noiselessly — for his presence of 
 mind never deserted him in the least degree — Jack Shep- 
 pard raised the latch, and pulled open the door. 
 
 When he had got it open to the extent of about an inch 
 he paused again, and looked through the crevice. 
 
 Nothing, however, but the dim outlines of the buildings 
 on the opposite side of the street, rendered dimly distin- 
 guishable by the first faint sickly rays of early dawn, met 
 his gaze. 
 
 From this he gathered confidence, and threw the door 
 open still further. 
 
 Then passed out. 
 
 His heart beat quickly as he crossed the threshold, but 
 no attempt was made to capture him. 
 
 He was instantly followed by Blueskin and Edgworth 
 Bess, and then the three fugitives stood once again 
 beneath the sky, and felt the cool air of heaven breathe 
 upon them. 
 
 A sigh of relief came from their lips, and they felt 
 thankful that so far they had eluded their powerful and 
 much-dreaded enemy. 
 
 But what were they to do ? 
 
 Friendless and homeless they stood in the silent street. 
 
 There was nowhere for them to go. 
 
 The hands of all the world were raised against them. 
 
 How were they to hope to contiuue so unequal a contest, 
 or, at any rate, hope for victory ? 
 
 Every chance seemed against them, and yet so tenacious 
 is the human mind of hope, that in thi3 dire extremity of 
 their fortunes, and when things looked so black against 
 them that they could not possibly look blacker, hope did 
 not desert the breasts of either of our friend*. 
 
 On the contrary, the fact of their having achieved so 
 much in safety, seemed to inspire them with confidence to 
 dare the rest. 
 
 Who would have thought that they would have been 
 successful in getting free and unmolested into tlje open 
 air ? and yet they had done so. 
 
 It was only for a second that they paused in the street 
 irresolutely. 
 
 They were aware how dangerous that spot was to them, 
 and that the sooner they could get to a distance from it 
 unperceived, the better it would be for them. 
 
 It was Blueskin who first spoke, for he was the one who 
 first recognised their exact situation. 
 
 " Quick, Jack ! " he said. " Follow me, and take care 
 of Edgworth Bess. I will lead the way, and I hope, ere 
 long, we shall fiud a place of refuge in which we can 
 remain until the vigour of the pursuit after us has 
 abated." 
 
 As he spoke these words, Blueskin darted off, and Jack 
 and his companion hastened after him at the best speed 
 they could make, for they were apprehensive that they 
 should lose sight of him in the darkness. 
 
 Blueskin turned round every corner he came to, taking 
 care, of course, to preserve one direction, and not to 
 double upon his steps. 
 
 This was a proceeding eminently calculated to make 
 pursuit after them a matter of great difficulty. 
 
 Before they had gone far, however, they were unlucky 
 enough to encounter a watchman. 
 
 Running hastily round the corner of a street at which 
 his box wa3 placed, Blueskin ran against it with full 
 force. 
 
 He did not see the obstacle in his path until it was too 
 late to prevent himself from coming into collision with it. 
 
 But yet he did not knock the box over, as he assuredly 
 would have done if he had not diminished his speed a 
 little ; though perhaps, could he but have known it, the 
 best thing he could have done would have been to push 
 it over. 
 
 But he prevented this catastrophe. 
 
 The fact was, the superannuated old pauper, who was 
 supposed to guard the houses on his beat from all harm, 
 was very comfortably asleep inside his box when Blueskin 
 came in contact with it. , 
 
 Now, if it had gone over on to its face at once, it is 
 clear that the watchman would have been disabled en- 
 tirely, and could not have given our friends any further 
 trouble.
 
 BLUESKIX : A ROMANCE. 
 
 But the watch-box, after several oscillatory movements, 
 L N gaiued its perpendicular position. 
 The watchman, however, could not fail to be aroused 
 
 But this was only his opinion, and it might be incor- 
 rect ; and he had no opportunity of conferring with his 
 comrade, for he kept steadily ahead of thein, maintaining 
 
 from his nap, for the shock threw him forward on the i about the same distance as he had done all through. 
 
 seat, and the end of his nose came into violent contact 
 with the wood. 
 
 With a kind of instinct he sprang his rattle, before he 
 was more than vaguely conscious that something unusual 
 had taken place. 
 
 At the same time, as he rapidly recovered his faculties, 
 be commenced shouting murder and thieves at the very 
 top of his lungs. 
 
 Jack Sheppard could not refrain fmm uttering a curse 
 at the occurrence of this unlucky incident, for he knew 
 how soon the alarm would spread from one watchman to 
 another. 
 
 But he put a stop to the exertions of this one by coffin- 
 ing him. . 
 
 In 6ome other portion of this history we have explained 
 the meaning of this term. 
 
 But l< st it should have been forgotteD, we will describe 
 w h''t Jack did on this occasion. 
 
 As the old watchman sat inside the box making all the 
 uproar in his power, Jack ran up to it, and by main torce 
 threw the box over on to its face. 
 
 It, as a matter of course, carried the watchman with it, 
 and there he lay beneath his house, buried and unable to, 
 do anything towards effecting his own release. 
 
 But the box itself reaehed the pavement with a hang 
 sufficient to arouse a whole neighbourhood ; so, however 
 effective it might have been so far as the watchman was 
 individually concerned, it had that drawback. 
 
 Besides which, the alarm was already given, and this 
 onlv served to increase it. ... 
 
 The watchman continued to spring his rattle ma most 
 praiseworthy manner, but the sound was muffled. 
 
 " Come on, Jaek," cried Blueskin. " Use your best speed. 
 Put forth your utmost exertion. Hark how the watch- 
 men are taking up the alarm. ' 
 They were indeed. 
 
 In every quarter rattles were sprung, and then the 
 trampling of feet follo^d. 
 
 Not only were the fugitives in imminent danger of being 
 surrounded and captured by these, but the uproar raised 
 could not fail to set Jonathan Wild upon the track— even 
 enpposing him to have lost it. 
 
 But Blueskin continued to run at full spepd, and Jack 
 and Edgworth Bess had no resource but to follow him in 
 the best manner they were able. 
 
 Jack could manage pretty well, but the poor girl who 
 was his companion, not only was suffering from extreme de- 
 bilitation, but was not used to such violent exertion. 
 
 Still, the dread of falling into the bunds of Jonathan 
 Wild enabled her to keep up very well. 
 
 How fervently Jack wished that he was strong enough 
 to lift her in his arms, and so save her from all this 
 fatigue. 
 But such a thing was quite out of the question. 
 Morning, too, was very close at hand. 
 Every moment they could see the light increasing, and 
 distant objects coming more plainly into view. 
 Suddenly a man darted out from a side street. 
 His' attention bad doubtless been attracted by the 
 springing of the rattles. 
 
 He was just in advance of Blueskin, so he held out his 
 arms and tried to stop him. 
 
 But ho might as well have tried to stop an avalanche. 
 Increasing his speed as much as he was able, and 
 clenching his right hand tightly, Blueskin hurried on. ^ 
 Too late the man made au effort to step aside. 
 He received the reward due to his folly and inter- 
 ference. 
 
 Blueskin raised his arm, and, as he passed at fullspe«.J, 
 he struck the man a terrific blow in the face. 
 
 No human being could possibly have withstood the 
 effect of such a blow. 
 
 Down went the man like a shot. 
 He lay in the road quite motionless. 
 Another second and Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess 
 passed him. 
 
 H'rom the steadiness with which Blueskin, in spite of all 
 obstacles, persisted in keeping one direction, Jack argued 
 that he had already settled in his mind what their destina- 
 tion was to be. 
 
 So quickly did he turn the corners that Jack and Edg- 
 worth Bess had some difficulty in keeping him in view. 
 
 They had the satisfaction, however, ere long of learn- 
 ing by the sound that they were rapidly distancing their 
 pursuers. 
 
 The sounds of their footsteps had entirely ceased, and it 
 
 was only occasionally that a cry was wafted to their ears. 
 
 At length even iible, aud When 
 
 they were, Blueskin slackened his - llowed his 
 
 t\"i companions to come up to him. 
 
 A.11 three were breathless, panting, and exhausted; so 
 before they could speak to each other they were co i pelled 
 to support themselves aud pause a little while. 
 
 As soop as he could, however, Blueskin spoke, for he 
 knew the pr< ciosity of time. 
 
 "Thank heaven !" he gasped out. catching bis breath 
 at intervals ; " we are safe so far, and that yon have been 
 enab'"d ro tain tj ■ faticrne of so long a race. I was 
 afraid it wonld overpower von." 
 
 Both Jack Sheppard aud Edgworth Bess made an 
 endeavour to reply, but failed. 
 They could not speak. 
 Biueskin continued. 
 
 " Never mind answering me. Save your wind for a 
 more valuable purpose. It is impossible to tell what may 
 vet be required of you. However, close at hand here is a 
 place where I have good hopes of being able to obtain 
 temporary shelter, and that we must have, for we cannot 
 keep up this sort of thing." 
 Jack nodded. 
 
 " I know ihe landlord of a public-house close by. I 
 once reudered him an important service. It is very many 
 year? ago now, and he has more than once displayed his 
 gratitude for it. I think I shall be able to interest him 
 in our behalf, and induce him to find us with a safe refuge 
 until we have to some extent matured our plans." 
 Jack nodded again. 
 
 " If you feel strong enough," continued Blueskin, " you 
 had better follow me at once, because the sooner we ai-e 
 under a roof of some sort the better. Yon need not run, 
 but proceed at a gentle pace. This will enable you to 
 recover yourselves, and we shall be gaining time as well." 
 " I am quite able," said Bess, faintly ; but I hope we 
 have not much further to go. If we have, I had better 
 lie down here and • die at once, for I am all but 
 exhausted." 
 
 " Cheer up," said Blueskin. "Do not think of dying 
 yet. It is but a couple of hundred yards at furthest that 
 we have to go, and you can take your time." 
 
 " I will assist you, ton," said Jack, speaking with diffi- 
 culty, for his heart throbbed so from the excessive exe rti' ir 
 in- n.-.'. [e, aua maile linn feci as u fVi-ry moment 
 
 it must burst. " Lean as heavily as you like upon my 
 arm, and 1 will assist you to follow Blueskin. It is very 
 lucky that we have found a place at all. I can assure 
 vou it is more than I hoped for." 
 
 Edgworth Bess was, however, fully aware of the ex- 
 hausted condition in which Jack was, aud she refused to 
 lean upon him as he had requested, though, at the same 
 time, she felt how welcome such a support would be to 
 her. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, though, wouH take no refusal, but in- 
 sisted upon her complying with his wishes, and in order 
 not to lose time in protracting a dispute, she gave way. 
 At a walk, then, they followed in Blueskiu's steps. 
 By this means they'recovered themselves in a great 
 measure from their agitation. 
 
 Thev grew cooler, too, so that when they presented 
 themselves at the place of which Blueskin had spoken, 
 they would be the less likely to excite commentatorial 
 suspicion. ' 
 
 When Blueskin said that the distance they had to go 
 was only two hundred yards, he was scarcely correct, for 
 it was nearly double that distance. 
 
 He was aware of that fact, but then he did not wish to 
 dishearten the poor girl, who had already bore up against 
 fatigue in so heroic a manner, by telling her that she had 
 nearly a quarter of a mile to walk. 
 
 But at last, aud without the occurrence of any further 
 danger, the distance was performed, and the little party
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 851 
 
 halted before an inn the appearauee of which, outwardly 
 at least, was tolerably respectable. 
 
 There was one thing that looked rather remarkable, 
 however, and which served to militate against the general 
 appearance of respectability which it bore. 
 
 And that one thing was that, though the hour was such 
 an early one, wanting nearly an hour of sunrise, the inn 
 was open. 
 
 The shutters were down and the front door wide open, 
 as though it was quite early in the evening. 
 
 There was a light in both the rooms ou either side of 
 the door, but a dingy-looking blind was drawn so closely 
 down that any attempt to have gained a peep at the in- 
 terior would have been fruitless. 
 
 In what part of London they were Jack had no idea. 
 Even with his intimate knowledge of all localities, he was 
 ac lault. 
 
 About one thing, however, he was quite sure, and that 
 was that he had never visited that part of the metropolis 
 before. 
 
 Looking up, he saw in front of the inn a projecting- sign, 
 which creaked dismally as it swung backwards and lor- 
 wards in the light morning breeze. 
 
 He made an attempt to learn the name of the inn, for 
 he could see there was something painted on the sign- 
 board, and that there were letters underneath it, but more 
 thnn that he could not see, owing partially to the insuf- 
 ficiency of light which fell upon it, and partly to the fact 
 that the painting and the letters were nearly half oblite- 
 rated. 
 
 Jack took this in at one hurried and hasty glance, for 
 Blueskin did not make any pause, but walked straight up 
 to the door of the inn. 
 
 He entered, and was closely followed by the two sharers 
 in all the previous perils of the night. 
 
 Whether they were to end for a little while or to com- 
 mence with redoubled activity was a question whish they 
 did not care to ask themselves. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXL. 
 
 JONATHAN "WILD KEEPS WELL UPON THE TEAIL OF THE 
 THKEE FUGITIVES. 
 
 There was no one in the passage of the inn when our 
 three friends entered, but the sound of their footsteps 
 appeared to be heard, for a door was opened and a man 
 came forth. 
 
 He carried a candle in his hand, for the interior of the 
 ins was quite dark. 
 
 The moment the light fell upon Blueskin's countenance 
 this man, who was no other than the landlord of the 
 house, gave vent to a cry of recognition. 
 
 Ho knew him in spite of the disordered state of his 
 apparel. 
 
 " Ross," said Blueskin, " you know me, it seems." 
 
 " How could I ever forget you, Mr. Blake. I may not 
 be quite what I should be, to some people's thinking, but 
 still, for all that^ I can't but remember where I 6hould 
 have been had it not been for you." 
 
 " You are in position now to repay me for whatever I 
 may have done for you." 
 
 Am I P Tell me what you require. Let me know in 
 what way I can serve you, and if it is in the power of man 
 to do it, I will." 
 
 " That's right, Boss," replied Blueskin, grasping him 
 by the hand. " I thought 1 could trust you." 
 
 "Did you?" 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " You were quite right, then." 
 
 " I rejoice to hud it so." 
 
 " But what do you renuire ?'* 
 
 " In the first place, **«.« me and my two rnends who 
 are with me into tome room where we can have a few 
 minutes' chat with each other." 
 
 " That's soon done," -v!.I the landlord, in ahrnrty voice. 
 " Come into the bar. There is no one in it, for they have 
 all pone to bed beside myself." 
 
 «' Oh ! indeed." 
 
 " Why, you see, we are obliged to take it in turns. 
 Sometimes I sit up, and sometimes my wife. But, comp, 
 follow me across the passage into the bar." 
 
 The landlord moved in the direction he had indicated 
 •a he spoke. 
 
 BliK skin raised his hand, aud beckoned to Jack and 
 Edgworth Bess to follow him. 
 
 As soon as they were all fairly inside the bar, the land- 
 lord set the caudle down upon the table, and closed the 
 door after them. 
 
 Then, placing chairs, he requested them to be seated. 
 
 But, before he followed their example, he took good 
 care to put upon the table an ample supply of refresh- 
 ments. 
 
 A draught of the capital October ale, which was poured 
 foaming out of the tankard, did the poor exhausted fugi- 
 tives a world of good, and Blueskin, as soon as Mr. Boss, 
 the landlord, had supplied their wants and resumed his 
 seat, spoke to him as follows: 
 
 11 You are a downright good fellow, Ross — a downright 
 good fellow. There are very few who would have acted 
 as you have. In general, favours done are soon forgotten. 
 But you are an exception, and a friend in ueed is a friend 
 indeed, and that is just what you have shown yourself to 
 be." 
 
 "I am much obliged to you, Mr. Blake; I wish every- 
 body had as good an opinion of me as you appear to have, 
 I should be spared a gnat deal of trouble, 1 cau tell you. 
 But never mind compliments. Just tell me in what way 
 I cau be of assistance to y. u." 
 
 "That is a straightforward, business-like manner of 
 coming to it," replied Blueskin ; "and if you will fill up 
 your glass, I will tell you in as few words as I can all 
 about it, for I am not afraid to place the fullest confidence 
 in you." 
 
 Boss, the landlord, bowed, and filled up his glass as 
 requested. 
 
 "When you saw me last," began Blueskin, "I was 
 Jonathan Wdd's head man." 
 
 Ross nodded. 
 
 " His second in command, in fact. Well, since that we 
 have quarrelled." 
 
 " Quarrelled ?" said the landlord, pushing his chair 
 back. "Quarrelled with the great Jonathan Wild?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That was a very bad piece of policy." 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 "Now, I always take all the pains I can to keep in 
 with him." 
 
 " I can't blame you for doing that, Ross. It is very 
 wise of you ; but still, for all that, we have quarrelled ; 
 and the long and the 6hort of it is— I am no longer in his 
 employ." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " I need not tell you all the particulars, for it would 
 fake up too much time. But, at any rate, you will under- 
 stand me that Jonaihan and myself are sworn foes, aud 
 he is using every effort he can think of to capture me, and 
 bring me to Tyburn." 
 
 " Oh !" said the landlord, again. 
 
 "I have just now had the greatest trouble in making 
 my escape from him, but I have succeeded in doing so, 
 and I may safely say thatnve reached here untracked." 
 
 This announcement seemed pleasing to the landlord, 
 for he gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 "Now, Ross, you see these two who are with me. They 
 are particular and dear friends of mine, and, like me, 
 Jonathan Wild is their deadly enemy, and he has for a 
 long time now been endeavouring to compass their 
 destruction. But, up to the present moment, all his 
 schemes have proved abortive. We are here in safety. 
 But we are weary. Now, Ross, in return for the services 
 I have at various times done for you, I ask you to give us 
 a few hours' shelter, 60 that we can rest ourselves and 
 depart." 
 
 " If that is all you want, you shall have it, and you are 
 heartily welcome, too. I need not tell you, however, that 
 I am running a great deal of risk, and I hope, of course, 
 that you are satisfied Jonathan Wild has not seen you 
 enter here." 
 
 "I think I can safely give you the assurance that 
 neither himself nor any of his men observed us, and I 
 think we shall be quite safe here for a few hours. Of 
 course, it would not be prudent to stay long. You kuow 
 what a man he is. But this lady who is with us, aud who 
 has received at Wild's hands the cruellest treatment, is 
 wearied down and exhausted for want of sleep and food. 
 A little while, however, will restore her, and she will then 
 he better able to cope with her evil fortune. Come. Ross,
 
 l^ULSKi:, : A UOiU_>Vfc. 
 
 I do not want to press this matter on you, but tell me, 
 yes or do, whether you will grant my request." 
 
 "To be sure I will. I know hoiv to be sensible for a 
 kindnops, and, if 1 can hide you from Jonathan Wild, I 
 will. Now you ar« here, however, fall to and eat as 
 much as you can. You need not fear being interrupted, 
 for this is a very 6lack time with us. Presently I will take 
 you upstairs, and there you are at liberty to stay as long 
 as Jonathan will let you, or you think proper." 
 
 11 Thanks, Eoss— thanks. Take my word for it, you 
 will lose nothing by our acquaintance. I should not have 
 asked you, though, only we were terribly hard pressed, 
 and all at once I thought about you." 
 
 " Well, fall to— fall to. Eat and drink as much as ever 
 you like now you have the opportunity." 
 
 " \> e will do justice to your invitation, never fear." 
 " Do— do. It is not made for the mere sake of making 
 it, I assure you." 
 " I am aware of that, Ross." 
 
 "Are you sure there is nothing else I can do for you 
 besides what you have mentioned ? " 
 
 "Nothing, thank you, without you could find me a 
 trustv messenger." 
 "Where to go to?" 
 
 " Little Earl-street, Seven Dials." ^ 
 
 " That is a long way from hei - e." 
 " I know it." 
 
 " What do you want this messenger to do ? " 
 " Deliver a letter." 
 "Nothing more?" 
 
 "Nothing, except to wait a few moments and bring 
 back a reply." 
 
 " And is it very necessary this letter should be trans- 
 mitted ? " 
 
 " Very ; the person to whom it would be addressed is a 
 friend of ours, and he arranged to have three horses wait- 
 ing for us at a certain place, but from some cause or other 
 he failed to keep his arrangement. At least, we were 
 very much behind our time, and, when we went to the 
 place appointed, there were no horses to be found. Of 
 course, if there had been, we should have been far away 
 by this time." 
 
 " I understand. Then you want to apply to this man 
 to send you the horses here ? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, if you like, I'll tell you what I will do." 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Take the letter myself." 
 " Will you really ? " 
 " With your consent." 
 
 " It is just what I desired, only I did not like to 
 trespass so much on your good nature as to ask you, but, 
 now you have volunteered, it is quite another matter." 
 
 " I shall be quite willing to go. The fact is, I have 
 some business to transact which will take me as far as 
 Charing Cross, and it is not a great distance from there 
 vou know." 
 
 " Not ten minutes' walk." 
 
 " Then, if you like, you shall write the letter now, — I 
 will furnish you with materials, and when it is done, you 
 can all go uj stairs, and I will answer for it the secret of 
 your being here shall be kept well enough." 
 " I will trust you, Ross — I will trust you." 
 " You can do so safely. Here are all the things you 
 need, so set about writing your letter at once." 
 
 " Here, Jack," said Blueskin, " you will manage that 
 iob best ; you can write faster than I can." 
 
 " Very well. I'll write, if you like. What do you 
 want me to say ? " 
 
 " Tell Tumposki how surprised we were at not finding 
 the horses at the place agreed upon, and how much 
 trouble we have had in consequence." 
 "What else?" 
 
 " Tell him we are here, where we shall be able to find 
 shelter for a few hours ; and request him to fulfil his bar- 
 gain, sending the three horses to this place as soon as it is 
 dark to-night, so that we can cany out our original inten- 
 tion." 
 
 " Is that all ? " 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I'll soen have that done, then." 
 Jack Sheppard had received a tolerably good education, 
 so he wrote the letter in a verv little time and with a very 
 little difficulty. 
 
 At lost he folded and sealed it up, then addressed it to 
 Aaron Tumposki, Little Earl Street, Seven Dials. 
 
 When this much was done, Blueskin took the letter and 
 handed it to the landlord with many injunctions to be sure 
 and not lose it, and to deliver it to no one but the person 
 to whom it was addressed. 
 
 The landlord promised obed!ence, and carefully placed 
 the missive in one of the inmost recesses of his pocket- 
 book. 
 
 He then led the way upstairs. 
 
 Our friends had well satisfied their hunger and thirst 
 with the bountiful good things which had been placed 
 before them. 
 
 It was by this time quite daylight, so there was no 
 need to carry the candle with them. 
 
 It was Jack who had the thought to suggest something 
 to Blueskin which otherwise would never have occurred 
 to him. 
 
 ' Blue," he said, in a whisper, " has the old man got a 
 wife, or any daughters, or anything of that sort, eh ? 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 "Ask." 
 
 "What for?" 
 
 Jack pointed to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " I understand," he muttered ; then, in a louder tone, 
 he added, addressing himself to the landlord as soon as 
 they reached the first lauding — 
 
 " Ross, are you married ? 
 
 « Eh ? " 
 
 " Are you married ? " 
 
 '„' Lor' bless you ! yes. Haven't you never seen my old 
 woman ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Then you never will." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " She went dead about three months ago, and now i 
 am a forlorn widower." 
 
 " You don't seem to have grieved much ; but have you 
 got any daughters ? " 
 
 " In course I have ; two.' 
 
 " Grown up ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. f ' 
 
 " Are they in the house ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then oblige me by calling them up and letting tbem 
 attend to this young lady, who stands in the utmost need 
 of their assistance." 
 
 " Certainly — certainly. The lazy huzzies ! they ought 
 to be up by this time. Here, Susan — Jane ! " 
 
 The landlord pronounced the two names in a tone that 
 amply attested to the strength of his lungs. 
 
 He was replied to almost immediately, and a door was 
 opened, from which emerged two young girls — one 
 rather older, and one rather younger than Edgworth Bess 
 herself. 
 
 They were dressed, and ready to go downstairs. 
 
 They understood what was required of them wither: 
 many words being said, and with that ease and freedon. 
 which is always apparent in young girls of about the 
 same age, they made friends with Edgworth Bess, and 
 withdrew with her into the room from which they had 
 emerged. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack Sheppard were placed in tie ndjoiu- 
 ing room, so that, let what would happen, they should not 
 be far from the young girl in whose fate they felt so 
 warm an interest. 
 
 Here the landlord left them — the last words on his lips 
 being a renewal of the promise to lose no time in convey- 
 ing the letter to the Jew. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack were both very glad to stretch them- 
 selves upon the sofa and comfortable bed which were in 
 the room. 
 
 As a precautionary measure, however, they determined 
 to sleep and ke p watch alternately, for they could not tell 
 how soon Wild might make his appearance. 
 
 But the day passed over without any ularm occurring. 
 
 Edgworth Bess found the landlord's daughters homely 
 and agreeable companions. 
 
 Everything that lay in their power they were only too 
 glad to do for her. 
 
 And so that one day at least passed more calmly and 
 comfortably for the poor persecuted heiress, than many a 
 one had for a long time. 
 
 She slept well and soundly, and when she awoke paid 
 
 I ^
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 **5S 
 
 [jack and blueskin in search of the buried treasure.] 
 
 those few attentions to her toilette which it actually re- 
 quired. \ • ■ , 
 
 It was long after midday when the landlord returned 
 from his journey. 
 
 But the intelligence he brought was welcome enough. 
 
 He had seen Tumposki, and brought back a letter from 
 that individual in reply. 
 
 Its contents were brief, and the purport was that three 
 horses should be brought to the inu as soon as it was dark. 
 They had been in Warwick-lane in pursuance of the 
 arrangement, but the time having been considerably in- 
 creased, and many of Wild's men lurking about.it was. 
 thought prudent not to wait any longer. j 
 
 Things now looked very promising, and the intelligence 
 having been communicated to Edgworth Bess, our friends 
 awaited the coming of night with considerable impatience. 
 
 But they were doomed to be crossed and prevented from 
 getting off so easily as they had anticipated. 
 
 Soon after sunset, and as they all three stood watching 
 > for the arrival of the steeds at one of the windows in the 
 
 upper story of the inn, they heard the trampling of horses' 
 hoofs. . 
 
 Not doubting for a moment that it was the approach ot 
 what they wished, they threw open the window and 
 looked out, in order to assure themselves. 
 
 But who could conceive their horror and amazement 
 when they saw Jonathan Wild, followed by a large band 
 of his janizaries, draw up in front of the inn. 
 
 He saw them, too, for the thief-taker uttered a howl, 
 and pointed to the window with the butt-end of his 
 ridirg-whip. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXLI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS CONFRONTED BY A STRANGE APPA- 
 RITION ON THE RUINED BRIDGE. 
 
 Edgworth Bess responded to Wild's howl of recognition 
 
 with a scream, which she found it wholly impossible for 
 
 her to repress. , , ,. , 
 
 Blueskin banged the window shut, and eves as he did 
 
 No. 45.
 
 4 J&* 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 so, be saw Wild alight recklessly from his horse, and 
 hasten in the direction of the front door of the inn. 
 
 But before we proceed to relate what took place after 
 bis unexpected arrival at the inn, and before we relate 
 bow the three fugitives fared under this critical situation 
 of things, we feel it to be a necessary duty to go hack, 
 and account for the thief-taker's inopportune appearance. 
 How I19 could have found his way there is at present a 
 mystery, but it is one that will soon be cleared up. £ 
 
 It will doubtless be recollected that the last time >ve 
 personally adverted to him was when he went over, from 
 his own domicil, to the eating-house in Giltspur-street. 
 
 We have casually seen or heard of him several times 
 since then, but that was the last that we said about his 
 own adventure. 
 
 We will resume, then, at this point, and, in a few woixis, 
 relate what happened to him afterwards. 
 
 Having made a hearty meal, and feeling very much 
 better in consequence, he walked back home again. 
 
 On his return, there was some business which required 
 his immediate attention, and this occupied him some little 
 time. 
 
 His instructions relative to posting the spies had in the 
 meantime been fully carried out. 
 
 Men in his employ, who were to be found in almost 
 every part of the metropolis, were furnished with a full 
 and accurate description of the three fugitives, and 
 ordered to keep a careful watch. 
 
 The business over, then, Jonathan himself, who was 
 restless and uncomfortable, strolled out, in order to see 
 that his instructions had been properly attended to. 
 
 He was under the conviction, too, that those he sought 
 were not far away, and hiding in some secure place. 
 
 He had traced them to that end of Warwick -lane which 
 lies nearest to St. Paul's Churchyard, and there he had 
 lost them. 
 
 But he was uneasy, for he knew be bad missed them 
 somewhere, so, like a sagacious dog who had lost scent of 
 his game, he went to the same spot again, in order to see 
 whether he could find anything to put him on the right 
 track again. 
 
 In a moody manner, then, with his hands clasped behind 
 his back and his head bent forward, he walked along 
 Newgate-street to the corner of Warwick -lane. 
 
 Down this narrow and unsavory thoroughfare he turned, 
 but he reached the other end of it without meeting with 
 anything to recompense him for bis trouble. 
 
 A choice of routes was now spread out before him, and 
 be stood some moments in speculation. 
 
 He could have turned to the right up Amen-corner. 
 He could have turned to the left up Paternoster-row. 
 Or he could have kept straight on down Ave Maria- 
 lane, and this would have brought him on to Ludgate- 
 hill. 
 
 But there was nothing whatever to be seen that in any 
 way served to assist him in his deliberations. 
 
 Quite by chance, then, for there was nothing else to 
 guide him, he resolved to take this last-mentioned 
 route. 
 
 Upon emerging on to Ludgate-hill, he turned to the 
 left in the direction of St. Paul's. 
 
 While wondering what place the fugitives were likely 
 to select as offering a good chance of concealing them- 
 selves, he glanced up at the cathedral. 
 
 But, though his gaze rested upon the huge edifice, yet 
 not for one moment did the idea strike him that within 
 that very building were the three persons for whom he 
 sought. 
 
 He turned the corner of the churchyard, then, following 
 pretty much the same course he had previously taken 
 when our friends had so narrow an escape of capture at 
 his hands. 
 
 _ While walking in this moody manner along the north 
 side of the cathedral, with his face turned towards Cheap- 
 side, he suddenly experienced a shock. 
 
 Looking up to see what had caused it, with a horrible 
 curse upon his lips, he saw that a young girl had run 
 against him, and that she was entangled somehow in bis 
 apparel. 
 
 But, quickly disengaging herself, this yonng gin gave 
 a bound forwards in the direction of the sacred edifice. 
 But not before the thief-taker had sceu her face. 
 For a moment, so intense was his astonishment, that 
 he stood like one paralyzed. 
 
 Then, recovering himself, he placed a small steel whi^i? 
 to his lips, which always hung at his neck, being suspend-! 
 by a fine chain. 
 
 He blew it fiercely, and the signal was immediately 
 responded to by the rushing of many feet. 
 
 That whistle was the means by which upon any emer- 
 gency he summoned any member of his band who hap- 
 pened to be within hearing of it. 
 
 In an incredibly short space of time, then, he found 
 himself surrounded by quite a party of his officers. 
 _ He did not utter a single word of explanation, but 
 simply crying, " Follow me," he dashed into the cathe- 
 dral, to the utter dismay of the old verger, who was at the 
 door. 
 The men kept close to his heels. 
 
 Jonathan winked and blinked when he found himself 
 in the dim obscurity of the cathedral, and strove vainly 
 to find some trace of the heiress. 
 But there was none. 
 She had disappeared. 
 
 But Jonathan was not to b£ oaulked, nor did the size of 
 the building give him the least uneasiness or despair. 
 
 Posting one of his men at each of the entrances, he, 
 with the remainder of his band, commenced a rigid 
 search. 
 
 He also sent off for reinforcements. 
 In every way he behaved more lifee a madman or a 
 demon than a human being, showing not the slightest 
 respect for the sacred character of the edifice he was in. 
 
 _ He overturned every movable object that came within 
 his reach, and plunged his sword recklessly and furiously 
 into every crevice and corner that he came to. 
 But it was all to no purpose. 
 All at once he bethought himself of the vaults. 
 No sooner did the idea occur to him than he compelled 
 the verger to unlock the door and allow him to enter 
 them. 
 Down the steep steps he went at headlong speed. 
 But the vaults beneath St. Paul's are of a rather ramified 
 character, and it was no easy matter for any one to search 
 them all through. 
 
 Moreover, there was nothing whatever to guide him as 
 to the pi'oper direction he ought to take. 
 
 Had he been less violent in motions than he was, he 
 might, to be sure, have heard the sUght noise which the 
 fugitives made in excavating the earth. 
 
 And at least half-a-dozen times Jonathan was within a 
 few yards of where they were at work, and yet each time 
 be took a wrong turning, and missed them. 
 
 It was not, indeed, until some time after our friends 
 had passed through the opening, that the thief-taker and 
 bis gang came upon the spot where they had been at 
 work. 
 They understood all at a glance. 
 
 There was no longer any trouble about finding the 
 track of the fugitives. There it was, straight before 
 them, and they had nothing to do but to follow it. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was the first to rush forward, and 
 scramble through the opening. 
 
 He had a dark lantern in bis hand, and it was a lucky 
 thing for him he had, or he would assuredly have fallen 
 into the cellar. 
 
 But he descended into it without meeting with any 
 accident, and he began to look carefully about him, while 
 his men one by one crawled through the aperture, and, as 
 they did so, aided him in the search. 
 
 Of course, it was a likely enough thing that the fugitives 
 had gca:e no further than that cellar, and had hidden 
 themselves therein. At least, Jonathan thought it likely, 
 and, fearful of doubling upon bis prey again, he caused a 
 thorough examination to be made of the place. 
 
 But that search, so far from resulting in anything save 
 letting the thief-taker know that those he sought were 
 not there, only took up valuable time, and afforded them 
 increased facilities for escape. 
 
 This will explain what puzzled Jack so much. Ho could 
 not oovceive what had caused the delay. 
 Bit, as we see, the cause was simple enough. _ 
 In this way, then, carefully looking about him as be 
 went, and being rewarded at almost every step by evidences 
 that the fugitives had only lately been that way, Jonathan 
 kept on until he reached the shop. 
 
 Here the partially open door leading into the street, let 
 him know that his prey had been more speedy than ke
 
 BLUESKTN: A B.0MANC1 
 
 355 
 
 thought, and that they had once again got out into the 
 streets. 
 
 But so far from feeling any despair or anger in conse- 
 quence, Jonathan only rubbed his hands over one another, 
 and grinned in that disagreeable fashion which was so 
 peculiarly his own. „ 
 
 He had faith in the precautions he had taken. 
 
 He knew what a many different eyes were at that very 
 moment looking out for them, and that they could not go 
 far without being seen, and his receiving the intelligence 
 of it. 
 
 But, for all that, he resolved to keep up the pursuit. 
 
 He would, however, never have succeeded in getting 
 upon the traek at all, had it not been for the encounter 
 with the watchman. 
 
 The hubbub raised of course had the effect of attracting 
 him to the spot. 
 
 But by the time he arrived there, the fugitives were 
 again out of sight. 
 
 We know already that he did not overtake them. 
 
 Cursing his want of success, Jonathan at last relin- 
 quished the search. 
 
 He resolved to wait for some intelligence from his spies 
 to reach him. 
 
 Accordingly he retraced his steps towards Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 But as that place was at some distance, he despatched 
 one of his men for horses. 
 
 He soon returned, and Jonathan and his gang 
 mounted and turned their faces towards home. 
 
 It was now early morning. 
 
 The first rays of the coming dawn were just perceptible 
 in the eastern horizon. 
 
 By no means pleased with himself, Jonathan rode at 
 the head of his troop. 
 
 In accordance with his usual plan he took the most 
 direct route back to his desination. 
 
 Just as the sun was rising and casting his first beams of 
 yellow fight upon the different objects around, the thief- 
 taker and his party arrived at a part of the road where a 
 stream flowed underneath it, which was spanned by a rude 
 and ruinous-looking bridge. 
 
 Upon reaching this place the horse which Wild rode 
 stopped suddenly, and reared in such a manner as would 
 have thrown a rider less practised than the thief-taker. 
 
 But he maintained his seat, and struck the horse 
 heavily. 
 
 Subdued and terrified by the violence of the blow, the 
 noble creature became more still. 
 
 The remainder of the troop also came to a halt. 
 
 Then looking to see what it was that caused this inter- 
 ruption, Wild saw a few feet from him one of the strangest 
 looking objects which could possibly be imagined; and he 
 ceased to wonder at the terror which his steed had mani 
 fested. 
 
 Standing in the middle of the road was something 
 
 Which looked not like an inhabitant o' the earth 
 And yet was on't. 
 
 By the garb which hung in tattering ribbons from her 
 body, it might be conjectured that she was a woman. 
 
 Her hair was silvery gray, and streamed behind her in 
 the early morning light in a dense mass. 
 
 It was so long as to completely cover the back part of 
 her person. 
 
 A rude kind of cloak was thrown over her shoulders in 
 which two holes had been roughly torn, and through 
 which a couple of long bare, bony arms were thrust. 
 
 Her feet were in slippers, but it was easy to see that 
 the whole of her apparel was of the flimsiest and scantiest 
 nature conceivable. 
 
 The age of this woman appeared to be very great. 
 
 But then other causes besides old age might have con- 
 spired to make her so withered, so thin, so haggard, and 
 so witch-like. 
 
 In her left hand she held a slender twig, torn apparently 
 from some hedge. 
 
 For what purpose she carried it was a mystery, without 
 she used it as a means of defence, but for that it seemed 
 woefully deficient. 
 
 And it was not long enough nor strong enough to serve 
 as a support to her steps while walking. 
 _ Her skinny and bare right arm she held extended at 
 right angles from her body. 
 
 The hand was clenched, and one finger was pointed in a 
 menacing and threatening manner towards the thief- 
 taker. 
 
 The other hand, which grasped the stick, she held aloft 
 in the air and pointed with it to heaven. 
 
 Then, in terrible shrieking accents and with furious 
 gesticulations, which made even Jonathan Wild's cheek 
 blanch, she spoke. 
 
 " Man of blood ! " she said ; " man of blood ! you are 
 here to meet your fate. I knew you would come ! I 
 dreamt oi it, and you are here. You know me not, but I 
 know you. Your deeds of evil are well known to me. 
 But you are hurrying forward to your doom. You are 
 hastening to it with all the speed you can, instead of flying 
 and allowing it to overtake you ! Man of blood ! I warn 
 you ! I can see the end of all, and that end is not far dis- 
 tant — much nearer perhaps than you imagine. I see a 
 scaffold — the triple tree at Tyburn. There is a huge and 
 gaping crowd. I see them ; they sway to and fro ; they 
 yell and howl as the victim for the day appears before 
 them. I see his face — I see his face ! It is the man of 
 blood ! It is Jonathan Wild, and they will hang him 
 upon Tyburn tree, even as, years gone back, that same 
 man of blood hung my husband. Oh ! I see him, and 
 the sight fills my heart with pleasure. His face whitens 
 as the ordinary speaks, and his limbs shake under him so 
 that he can hardly stand. Then I see the hangman ; he 
 grins derisively when he sees who is to be his victim. 
 He holds the white cap in his hand — he draws it over the 
 head of the man of blood ! I see "— — 
 So far Jonathan heard. 
 But no further. 
 
 All that had been said had been uttered with such 
 extraordinary vehemence and rapidity, and the purport of 
 her words was so peculiar, that the thief-taker, prompt to 
 act as he generally was, had not been able to interrupt 
 her. 
 
 But now, with a yell of the most infuriate rage, he 
 struck his horse several sharp blows, and urged him for- 
 ward. 
 
 The gallant animal which he bestrode was fiery and 
 full of spirit. 
 
 He swerved, and reared, and pranced, but yet all tho 
 time he took his rider not ono step nearer to the object 
 which had so excited his passion. 
 
 Tho oid hag waved her stick defiantly, and with 
 extended arms shrieked out more words of menace and 
 abodance. 
 
 But she could not make her voice heard above the din 
 which the trampling hoofs of Wild's horse created. 
 
 But having said all she wished to say, and feeling most 
 probably alarmed at the fury which the thief-taker exhi- 
 bited, she waved her stick and sprang over the low stone 
 parapet of the bridge into the stream. 
 
 No sooner had the object which so terrified Jonathan's 
 horse been removed from its path, than it gave one tre- 
 mendous bound forward and sped away at a terrific rate. 
 : In vain Jonathan pulled the rein and strove to check 
 his headlong course. Terror had, for a time, made the 
 high-spirited but docile animal insensible of all thinga 
 else. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXLIl. 
 
 GIVES A GLIMPSE AT SOME PARTICULARS CONNECTED 
 WITH WILD'S EARLY HISTORY. 
 
 The janizaries, who had one and all been much startled 
 by this apparition and the words it uttered, no sooner saw 
 Wild start off at the headlong speed we have described, 
 than they clapped spurs to their own steeds and followed 
 as fast as they were able. 
 
 Jonathan heard them thundering in his rear, and tho 
 sound seemed to alarm his own horse afresh. 
 
 _ In a very little time he found that all hopes of reining 
 him ia and checking his speed were at an end, so ho 
 simply held tight, and did his best to steer him clear of 
 obstacles. 
 
 In this he succeeded, and, after a time, the horse 
 quieted down, and once more became passive in his hands. 
 
 Then Wild drew up, and for about five minutes swore 
 in a most awful manner at his men. 
 
 At the expiration of that time he censed, but only 
 because he was compelled by want of breath to do so.
 
 35C 
 
 BLUESK1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 His anger arose from the fact of their having followed 
 him in the way they did. 
 
 He wanted them to have stayed behind, and either cap- 
 tured or slain the hag who Lad caused bim so much 
 mental and bodily discomfiture. 
 
 But it was no good to think of turning back now til the 
 hope of finding her again, because she had had plenty »f 
 time to get a long way from the spot. 
 
 Bidding them follow him, Jonathan continued on his 
 way to his house in Newgate-street, whore certain things 
 connected with his general trade required his attention. 
 
 He had neglected his business a great deal lately, and, 
 though the thief-taker was in no way dependent upon it, 
 yet he could not avoid grieving a good deal. 
 
 " Curse it," he said. " It seems to be my fate that I 
 am never to get any one about me that I can trust. I 
 thought I had found what I wanted in Blueskin, but even 
 he has turned against me. If he would come back and 
 be to me what he has been, I feel that I could overlook 
 all the past. But that cannot be, and it is folly of me to 
 think about it. 
 
 " Oftier men," he continued, after a few moments' 
 silence, " have sons who, as they grow up, replace them 
 and serve them. But I am not as other men. I have a 
 son — I mean I had one, for whether he is alive at this 
 moment is more than 1 can tell. But he was a dolt — an 
 idiot. So it is no good thinking about him. He might 
 have joined his fortunes to mine to the advautage of both 
 of us, but he elected otherwise. He is gone, but 1 wish 
 — I wish he had been a son to me." 
 
 Jonathan Wild was human, and there were times when 
 even he, iron-hearted as he was, grieved about his son. 
 
 It seemed to be one portion of the punishment attached 
 to his evil doings to be in a state of isolation. He seemed 
 to stand upon a pedestal, where there was room for no 
 one but himself. Yet he longed for companionship and 
 assistance of a confidential character in the numerous 
 enterprises he bad under hand. 
 
 But he was fated not to have it. 
 
 This son of his of whom he spoke, and to whom allusion 
 has on a former occasion been made, was born him by his 
 first wife. 
 
 We have touched but little upon the early biography of 
 the great thief -taker. 
 
 But as this son of his soon afterwards made his appear- 
 ance, and took a prominent part in the adventures which 
 subsequently happened, it will, perhaps, be as well if we 
 take this opportunity to bestow a hasty glance upon the 
 thief-taker's early lite. 
 
 Wolverhampton, in Staffordshire, has the honour of 
 being the birthplace of this unparalleled miscreant. 
 
 His parents were poor, but respectable people, residing 
 in that town. 
 
 Some of their descendants are, we believe, still to be 
 found residing in the immediate locality. 
 
 But that has nothing to do with our story. 
 
 Had Jonathan been an ordinary kind of man, he would 
 have lived and died as thousands of his forefathers did 
 before bim, with their name unknown to the world. 
 
 They had been content to travel in the rut in the high- 
 way of life in which accident had placed them, and never 
 once thought of making the slightest attempt to raise 
 themselves out of it. 
 
 But Jonathan was gifted not only with extraordinary 
 strength and energy of constitution, but also with un- 
 common strength and energy of mind. 
 
 It is rarely that these two qualities are found uuited in 
 one individual ; but Jonathan was one. 
 
 At an early age his ambition manifested itself— though 
 in a humble way. 
 
 Still it led to other things. 
 
 The other members of the family had been content to 
 learn their father's trade— that of buckle making — in 
 their native town, but Jonathan determined to go to Bir- 
 mingham and learn it — that town which is frequently 
 designated as the metropolis of the midland counties, and 
 which was some twelve or thirteen miles distant from ihfl 
 place of his abode. 
 
 This was his first step. 
 
 And here let it be said that if fortune had been favour- 
 able enough to the future thief-taker as to draft him into 
 the army, he would have unquestionably made in very 
 many respects the best man in the force 3 
 
 But fate decided otherwise. 
 
 In Birmingham, where he served his apprenticeship, he, 
 like many another young man, fell in with a lot of disso- 
 lute people about his own age, and was ruined in conse- 
 quence. 
 
 It is not our intention, however, to preach a homily 
 upon Jonathan Wild, or to attempt to extenuate in any 
 way the numerous and barbarous cr imes of which he was 
 I guilty. 
 
 Let it suffice to say, at Birmingham he was first edu- 
 cated into the ways of villainy, and he proved an apt 
 pupil. 
 
 In a little while be excelled all his companions in every- 
 thing, so that at last he came to be looked upon as quite a 
 head man amongst them. 
 
 And this was always his fate — to join others upon a 
 footing of equality, and then to rise superior to them. 
 
 And we are not afraid to say that, had Jonathan Wild 
 been trained right, he would have proved to be an orna- 
 ment to society, instead of a disfigurement. 
 
 At length, to such a pitch did he carry hi3 depredations 
 in Birmingham, that he was compelled to fly. 
 
 Of course, the first place that would suggest itself to & 
 man like Wild would be London. 
 
 To that city ho resolved to repair, and he set out on 
 foot to perform the journey. 
 
 He accomplished it. 
 
 But we should state here that, during his 6lay at Bir» 
 niingham, which was of considerable duration, he became 
 acquainted with a young girl, who was both virtuous and 
 honest. 
 
 As Jonathan was a young man, earning good wages, 
 and with a capital prospect before him, she consented to 
 become his wife, and they were legally married to each 
 other. 
 
 t5ut at the time the young girl took the (for her) fatal 
 step, she had no idea what kind of man he was to whom 
 she had given her hand. 
 
 Soon, however, whispers of the truth reached her ears, 
 but she refused to believe it. 
 
 Then came Jonathan's hasty flight to London. 
 
 He did not make her the companion of his journey — he 
 did sol even make her his confidant. 
 
 The poor woman, when she learned what had taken 
 place, was distracted with grief. Her parents and friends 
 whom she had offended by marrying Wild, turned their 
 backs upon her, and she was cast upon the mercy of the 
 world. 
 
 What was she to do ? 
 
 Expecting very shortly to become a mother, what was 
 to happen to her and to her child ? 
 
 Still, for all that, with that fond devotion, of which a 
 woman is alone capable, she loved her husband, and de- 
 spite his treatment of her — his hasty flight — and the 
 reports which were circulated against his good name — she 
 determined to follow him to London. 
 
 She carried out her intention, and was so fortunate as 
 to enlist the sympathies of a waggoner who was going to 
 the great city, and he allowed her a seat in his convey- 
 ance. 
 
 For the reader must recollect that at the time of which 
 we are writing — nearly a hundred and sixty years ago — 
 there were no ready means of travelling to and from dis- 
 tant places, such as are in existence now. 
 
 The consequence was, that the poor wife reached 
 London almost as soon as her reprobate husband. 
 
 She also succeeded in finding him out. 
 
 But where ? 
 
 In Bridewell, where she was taken for being a beggar 
 and a vagrant. 
 
 Wild received his wife with doggod sullenness. 
 
 While in this prison Wild's first rhild was born. 
 
 The one of whom we have made inention. 
 
 After a time the pair were liberated. 
 
 Jonathan was driven to many shifts for a living, and at 
 last, finding thieving to be the easiest, he adopted it, de- 
 spite the remonstrances and presages of his poor young 
 wife. 
 
 And so things went on. 
 
 In time, Jonathan made the glorious discovery that it 
 tras better to act as thieves' agent than thief; that, in 
 fine, he should reap the best harvest by constituting him- 
 self a sort of middle-man between those who thieved and 
 thuse who were robbed. 
 
 And this was the beginning of that monstrous system,
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 357 
 
 which he carried to such a. pilch that the legislature were 
 compelled to interpose and suppress it. 
 
 Jonathan did an enormous business. 
 
 But we have already made the reader acquainted with 
 most of the ramifications of his trade, so it is needless to 
 refer to them here. 
 
 This wife and mother then lived with Jonathan for 
 some time, but at length he killed her in a fit of drunken 
 passion. 
 
 He had had many a mistress since then, and the last 
 one was Mary Milliner, whose end the reader has already 
 eeen. 
 
 But this son, as he grew up, proved to be a great 
 trouble to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 It would not be going too far to say that he inherited 
 all his father's bad and evil qualities, without any of the 
 redeeming ones. 
 
 His was ajiercc, untameable spirit, and one that fairly 
 got the master of the great thief-taker. 
 
 He had, however, tried to bring him " up to tho busi- 
 ness," for so he designated his nefarious traffic. 
 
 This son, then, whose Christian name was George, was 
 accordingly initiated into the mysteries of the office in 
 Newgate-street. 
 
 For a time all went well. 
 
 Jonathan was delighted. 
 
 He thought that at last the trouble he had had with his 
 Bon was over. 
 
 He fancied he beheld in him one who would shortly 
 become a most able coadjutor and ally. 
 
 Delusive hope. 
 
 The darling son wormed his way into the whole of his 
 father's secrets, and by pretending to interest himself in 
 the proceedings, elicited everything. 
 
 The thief-taker took him entirely into his confidence. 
 
 And what was the result ? 
 
 Just what might have been expected from such a spirit. 
 
 He took advantage of one of Jonathan's long absences, 
 and packed up into as small a compass as possible the 
 principal portion of his father's wealth. 
 
 Then absconded with it. 
 
 He had been an apt pupil ! 
 
 The numerous lessons in villaiuy and iniquity Wnich 
 Jonathan had given him were not thrown away. 
 
 They all recoiled upon the teacher's head. 
 
 That was a just retribution. 
 
 This son, then, knowing the means at his father's com- 
 mand, took measures to destroy them accordingly. 
 
 He laid all his plans — made every arrangement for an 
 immediate and rapid flight. 
 
 Then, when he had the booty safe in his possession, he 
 lost not a moment, and was almost out of the country 
 before Wild discovered his loss. 
 
 The impotent anger of the thief-taker wa3 terrible to 
 witness. 
 
 He made instant search for his son. 
 
 But vainly. 
 
 And so Jonathan's iniquity had recoiled upon his own 
 head. 
 
 He little thought when he was giving lessons to his 
 son that he was preparing a rod for his own back, and 
 that the first person who would reap the benefit would be 
 himself. 
 
 As we have said, the thief-taker's anger was terrible. 
 
 He suddenly found himself despoiled of the savings of 
 many years. 
 
 Of wealth obtained only by a constant exposure and 
 risk of his life. 
 
 Money enough to have enabled him to retire a rich 
 man. 
 
 Now it was all swept away. 
 
 He would have to begin fife afresh. 
 
 Registering a fearful oath of vengeance, however, 
 against his son, Jonathan Wild, with his usual indomita- 
 ble energy, set about his task afresh. 
 
 And, what was more, he succeeded, for he amassed 
 wealth more rapidly than before. 
 
 And all the while he had heard nothing of his son. 
 
 But there were times when, as we have recorded, Wild 
 could not help wishing that his son had been to him all 
 that he might have been. 
 
 This was when he felt the want of some one whoui he 
 could trust sufficiently to take his place. 
 
 And bo on the present occasion he felt the loss of some 
 
 one trustworthy, and how advantageous it would be to 
 him if he could have a substitute. 
 
 _ And so, with the thoughts of this son of his occupying 
 his mind more than they had done for many a long day, 
 Jonathan Wild moodily took his way towards Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 It may be that the words which had been uttered by 
 the mysterious old woman upon the bridge, and which 
 seemed to have such an evident connexion with his own 
 fate, had some effect upon his mind. 
 
 Certainly his thoughts went far back into tho past. 
 
 But little did he think that this son oi his was so close 
 at hand as he actually was, and that he would so soon 
 make his appearance. 
 
 Whether as a foe, or whether as a friend, time alone can 
 determine. 
 
 Without the occurrence of any particular incident call- 
 ing for recordation at our handa, Jonathan reached his 
 own house in Newgate-street. 
 
 There he remained for several hours during the day, 
 wholly immersed in his business. 
 
 Towards four o'clock in the afternoon he was made the 
 recipient of some intelligence which produced a remark- 
 able effect upon him. 
 
 He armed himself— called out his men — mounted them 
 — and set out at their head at full speed. 
 
 His destination was the inn where the fugitives had 
 found a refuge, and to which they had been tracked by 
 some of his myrmidons. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXLIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD CAPTURES THE THEEE fUGITlVES AT 
 THE INN. 
 
 We have seen how, as they stood incautiously at the 
 window of the inn, awaiting the arrival of the horses, 
 Blueskin, Jack Sheppard, and Edgworth Bess were seen 
 by Jonathan Wild. 
 
 This put an end to all doubt respecting the correctness 
 of the information he had received. 
 
 With a yell, then, which might have come with better 
 grace from the throat of some ferocious animal than a 
 human being, the thief-taker threw himself off his horse 
 and called to his men to follow his example. 
 
 All this tho fugitives had seen with horror imprinted 
 upon their features. 
 
 In what way were they to escape the clutches of the 
 thief- taker P 
 
 The horses had not come, and, if they were to arrive 
 now, they would not be able to avail themselves of them. 
 
 What could have brought Jonathan there they were 
 unable to conceive, for, of course, they were in ignorance 
 of the facts with which the reader has been made ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 They inclined to the belief that his presence thero was 
 the result of accident alone, and that he would never have 
 known where they were hiding themselves if they had not 
 unluckily been present at the window. 
 
 But Jonathan's information was rather precise, and, 
 even if he had not seen them in the way he did, he would 
 not have gone away from the inn until he had thoroughly 
 searched it in every pail. 
 
 But now he had the proof which hi3 own vision 
 afforded that they were in the building, and hi3 heart re- 
 joiced, for he felt that at last his pains were rewarded, 
 and that he had got his prey within his grasp. 
 
 And indeed the position in which our friends now found 
 themselves was by far more critical than any in which 
 they had hitherto been placed. 
 
 In what way were they to hope to escape ? 
 
 Jonatban's first step was to post his men at various 
 points round the house, so as to command a view of the 
 whole premises. 
 
 Then he stalked into the hall of the public-house — and 
 that was the first intimation Ross, the landlord, had of his 
 presence. 
 
 Upon seeing him, however, he expressed his astonish- 
 ment by a low, faint whistle., while he looked the very 
 picture of dismay. 
 
 Jonathan enjoyed his discomfiture amazingly. 
 
 He leant his arms upon the ledge of the bar window, in 
 which Ross stood. 
 
 He held a cocked pistol in a negligent manner in hi* 
 light hand.
 
 358 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Then, in his growling voice, he said in a tone and man- 
 ner which he intended to be facetious to a degree — 
 
 " Good morning." 
 
 The landlord could do no otherwise than reply to the 
 salutation. 
 
 He used precisely the same words. 
 
 Jonathan grinned. 
 
 "You know me, I suppose," he added. 
 
 " I have seen you before, sir." 
 
 " Ah ! tben you know me, of course. No one ever 
 mistakes or forgets me if they only get one good glance at 
 my face." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And I know you," replied Wild. 
 
 " Do you, sir P " 
 
 " Yes ; and you are in rather an awkward situation." 
 
 "As how, Mr. Wild?" 
 
 " You know how." 
 
 " Indeed I don't, sir." 
 
 " What am I here for P " 
 
 " I am waiting for you to tell me, sir." 
 
 " Look hero, Ross — for that is your name." 
 
 " I know that, and you might have known it if you had 
 just looked up at the signboard that hangs outside." 
 
 " Bah ! I suppose you know there is such an offence in 
 law as aiding and abetting felons." 
 
 " I believe so, sir ; but what has that to do with me ? " 
 
 " Everything, as you will find." 
 
 " Indeed, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Now, it's no good for you to deny it. You have at 
 this moment concealed in your house three felons, whom 
 you have aided and abetted." 
 
 " You make a mistake, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Don't deny it." 
 
 "But I do deny it." 
 
 " I tell you they are here. I know it ; I have seen 
 them." 
 
 The landlord muttered an involuntary oath. 
 
 But a new idea struck him, so he went upon a fresh 
 track. 
 
 He by no means wished to have a rupture with the 
 thief-taker. 
 
 The reader will perhaps remember the astonishment he 
 evinced when Blueskin told him that he and Wild were 
 eworn enemies. 
 
 Moreover, he had expressed his opinion that it was the 
 best policy to keep friends with such a man. 
 
 We shall see how he acted. 
 
 " I don't know who you have seen, Mr. Wild ; but I 
 can tell you this, that so far as my knowledge goes, there 
 are no felons in this house, nor have I aided and abetted 
 them." 
 
 " But, perhaps," replied Wild, with a leer, " if they 
 were found here concealed in your premises, you would 
 have a great deal of trouble in rebutting the charge if it 
 was brought against you." 
 
 " I don't say but what I should, Mr. Wild ; but I 
 shouldn't think you would be the man to do me such a 
 turn." 
 
 " Well, perhaps not. You see, it depends in a great 
 measure upon your own behaviour." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " Because then all will be well." 
 
 " Very good ; I am glad to hear that, Mr. Rose. But, 
 understand me, I have got at my back a strong force of 
 well-armed men, who never stick at trifles if I tell them 
 not to do so. The house is thoroughly surrounded with 
 them, back and front, and it would be impossible for a 
 mouse to leave it without their knowledge. 
 
 " I have nothing to say against that, Mr. Wild," 
 
 " Very good again. Now then, tell me the truth. You 
 will find that it will auswer your purpose best. Do you, 
 or do you not, know those people who are upstairs ? " 
 
 " I do not, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " That is enough, then. I tell you that they are three 
 felons, for whose apprehension a very large reward is 
 offered." 
 
 " You don't say so, Mr. Wild ? Well, I should neve* 
 have thought it from their looks." 
 
 " Oh ! shouldn't you ? " 
 
 " Certainly I should'ut." 
 
 " And you had no idea of it P " 
 
 " None, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " When did they come here P " 
 
 " Early this morning, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Early this morning ? " 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "What did they say." 
 
 " They asked for refreshments, and said they wanted to 
 stop in the neighbourhood for a few hours, and asked me 
 if I could find them accommodation." 
 
 "Oh! • 
 
 " So I told them yes." 
 
 " And you had no suspicion of their characters when 
 you said yes P " 
 
 " Of course not, Mr. Wild, or I should have said no in 
 a minute." 
 
 " Well, I hope you will be able to prove it." 
 
 " Shall I be called upon to do so ? 
 
 "Very likely, I think." 
 
 " But you could get me out of that little difficulty, Mr. 
 Wild, could you not ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Very likely I might." 
 
 "Ah! do, sir." 
 
 " Should you feel inclined to do anything in return ? " 
 
 " Anything in reason." 
 
 " Very well, then, I call upon you to lead me up to the 
 room in which they are concealed, and then everything 
 shall be looked over. I will take the responsibility upon 
 myself." 
 
 Ross, the landlord, looked rather uncomfortable when 
 this proposition was made to him, though, of course, he 
 more than expected it. 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Mr. Wild. To be sure," he gasped, for he 
 wished to save himself from the consequences of what lie 
 had done, and to serve Blueskin and his two companions 
 at the same time. " Oh ! yes, of course. They are up- 
 stairs." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 "Oh! you know it?" 
 
 " Yes, didn't I tell you I had seen them P " 
 
 " I think you did, sir." 
 
 " Of course I did. I was just outside, and, happening 
 to look up, I saw them all three at the window." 
 
 " Oh ! d— m it." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 "I said, was that it?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " They had a room upstairs, and that's were they are 
 now, I daresay." 
 
 " Lead the way up, then, and don't make a noise. I and 
 my bull-dogs will follow you." 
 
 Ross, the landlord, gave an inward groan, but what was 
 he to do. 
 
 Besides, he thought, if they were captured, it would be 
 no fault of his. The fact of his leading Jonathan to the 
 door of the room in wbich they were could not possibly 
 make any difference to them, because he knew the room 
 already, whereas to himself the result would be very 
 different. 
 
 " Lead on ! " said Wild, " there's no occasion to hurry, 
 I know, because it will be impossible for them to escape ; 
 but still, we may as well get the business over, so lead on 
 at once." 
 
 " How dark it is going ! " said Ross, as he stepped out 
 of the bar ; " why, it was lighter than this an hour later 
 last night." 
 
 " It is growing dark," said Wild ; " but, never mind, 
 lead the way." 
 
 " Hark at that ! " ejaculated the landlord, as he walked 
 towards the stairs. 
 
 A terrific peal of thunder, which seemed to shake the 
 house to its very foundations, preceded his words. 
 
 " Only a thunderstorm," said Wild ; " you are not afraid 
 of it, are you?" 
 
 " Oh ! no, Mr. Wild, only it's not a very pleasant thing, 
 you know." 
 
 " No more it is." 
 
 " There's the lightning, then ! " 
 
 A vivid flash of lightning at this moment lighted up 
 the staircase, and revealed the forms of Jonathan Wild's 
 .janizaries, who were crowding close behind their master's 
 heels. 
 
 Then it left them in what seemed deeper darkness than 
 before. 
 
 Jonathan himself did not like the turn that affairs were 
 taking.
 
 BLUESK.IN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 359 
 
 In spite of his bravado, he was always awod by a 
 thunderstorm, and this is not at all remarkable, for a 
 hundred and fifty years ago few people, except the well- 
 educated, could be brought to believe that the tremendous 
 strife of the elements proceeded from purelj 7 liatural 
 causes. 
 
 Now Jonathan was far from being in a position to claim 
 the title of being a well-educated man, though he had 
 rather more learning than his fellows ; but there was a 
 large amount of superstition mixed up in him, and every 
 now and then it showed itself. 
 
 As he walked up the staircase after the landlord, 
 although he allowed no sign of it to be visible, he felt 
 very uneasy in his mind. 
 
 " Lights ! " he cried. " Curse you all, you carry lan- 
 terns, don't you ? Why don't you show a light in this 
 infernally dark place ? " 
 
 He spoke these words in a loud voice just as he reached 
 an angle in the staircase, which was very dark indeed. 
 
 The men halted immediately, and produced their dark 
 lanterns. 
 
 There was a moment's delay while they lighted them. 
 
 But this was soon accomplished, and then from the 
 united lanterns there came quite enough light to illuminate 
 the staircase. 
 
 In the meantime the landlord was pondering over the 
 disagreeable position in which he found himself placed. 
 
 He had no wish that Jonathan should succeed in eifect- 
 ing a capture, and he was quite ready to do anything that 
 would be likely to prevent his doing so, if he could only 
 see an opportunity. 
 
 But it was in vain he cudgelled his brains. 
 
 He could think of nothing. 
 
 When the lanterns were fairly alight, they resumed 
 their way up the stairs. 
 
 But still the lightning and thunder continued with un- 
 abated violence, indeed, if anything, the peals of thunder 
 increased in loudness, and the flashes of lightning in 
 brightness and frequency. 
 
 At length the room in which the fugitives were was 
 reached. 
 
 Jonathan and his troop halted before the door of it. 
 
 " Is this the room ? " asked the thief-taker of the land- 
 lord. 
 
 " It is, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Very good. You have kept to your part of the bar- 
 gain, and I will keep to mine. You shan't have any 
 further trouble." 
 
 Then, going close to the door, Jonathan knocked loudly 
 upon the panel of it. 
 
 But his summons was unanswered. 
 
 There was no more notice taken of it than if the room 
 had been empty. 
 
 Wild next tried the handle. 
 
 It turned round, and he endeavoured to push it open. 
 
 It was fast. 
 
 He shook it in its frame. 
 
 " Surrender ! " he cried. " Surrender ! It is folly to 
 resist, and make a foolish struggle to avoid capture. I 
 am here in force. My men surround this house, so it will 
 be impossible for you to leave it. Give in, therefore, and 
 you shall be treated gently. Refuse and resist, and the 
 consequences be upon your own head. I call upon you 
 again to surrender. Surrender, I say ! " 
 
 Jonathan waited a moment to see whether any reply 
 would be made to this speech, which he considered a 
 highly conciliatory one. 
 
 But no notice was taken of it. 
 
 Those within the chamber — if any were within it — were 
 silent as if they had never heard a word. 
 
 This infuriated Wild, and he caught hold of the handle 
 of the door again and shook it violently in its setting. 
 
 He hammered, too, with the butt-end of a pistol upon 
 t lie panel. 
 
 But it was all to no purpose. 
 
 " There is no help for it," he said, at length, to the 
 landlord. You see, they are such obstinate people that 
 they will compel me to break the door down." 
 
 " I hope not, Mr. Wild. 
 
 " I'll see that the damage is made good." 
 
 " Oh ! it isn't that, but just think what a name my 
 house will get. I wish you could capture them quietly. ' 
 
 " Well, I have tried, but, you see, they are determined 
 to fight to the last. However, a thought strikes me." 
 
 " What is it, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Have you got a ladder on the premises p " 
 
 " I daresay we have, sir." 
 
 " Vary well, then ; I will go down with you and look 
 for it. You, Smith and Goggs, remain at the door and 
 see that no one passes out. Stop there till you have 
 orders from me. The remainder follow me quietly down 
 stairs." 
 
 With these words on his lips, Jonathan turned round 
 and commenced the descent of the stairs. 
 
 The landlord did not dare to refuse to follow him, 
 though, at the same time, his determination to aid the 
 fugitives was unchanged. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXLIV. 
 
 RELAMS WHAT TOOK PLACE AT THE INN AFTER THE 
 
 CAPTURE OF JACK SHEPPARD, BLUESKIN, AND EDGWORTH 
 
 BESS BY JONATHAN WILDa 
 
 With the exception, then, of the two men who had been 
 left to guard the door, the whole party went downstairs. 
 
 The landlord could not, of course, say no to any of 
 Wild's propositions without throwing himself open to 
 suspicion; so he made a point of readily conceding to 
 every one of them. 
 
 Accordingly he led the way into the yard at the back of 
 the inn, and looked about for a ladder. 
 
 The storm was still raging, though not much rain fell ; 
 still the clouds were very black overhead, and completely 
 shut out the sky from view. 
 
 The ladder was found, and lonathan ordered his men to 
 carry it round to the front of the house — after giving a 
 word of caution to those who were posted at the back not 
 to relax their vigilance, but to keep as sharp a look out aa 
 possible. 
 
 The landlord now saw what Wild wanted with the 
 ladder. 
 
 He had it reared up in the front of the inn, Hnd put 
 close to the sill of the window which looked into the room 
 in which our friends were. 
 
 No sooner was it placed — and care was taken to do it 
 as noiselessly as possible — than Jonathan sprang to the 
 foot of it, and rapidly began to ascend. 
 
 His men followed quickly after him. 
 
 But we must leave him for a moment, while we more 
 particularly revert to the proceedings of the fugitives who 
 were in such a desperate strait. 
 
 And let not the reader be surprised when we say that 
 they almost lost all hope. 
 
 No wonder that they should do so, for all their endea- 
 vours to get free from Jonathan Wild were unavailing. 
 
 Clasping her hands together, Edgworth Bess cried, in a 
 despairing voice — 
 
 " Oh ! what shall we do ? Tell me, what shall we do ? 
 Or must I give up all hope, and resign myself once more 
 'to the fate of being made prisoner by that bold, bad man ? " 
 
 " Do not despair yet," said Blueskin. " We will do our 
 best to prevent such a thing,but I am afraid the odds are 
 too much against us for us to hope for that." 
 
 "Oh! fly— fly. Let us fly." 
 
 " We cannot." 
 
 " The horses have not come ; but yet we might go on 
 foot." 
 
 "How far before Jonathan's men — who are well 
 mounted — would come up to us P Besides, we should 
 never have the chance of making the attempt, even if we 
 were inclined." 
 
 « Why not." 
 | j" I know Jonathan Wild well, and am quite certain 
 that, having seen us here, the very first thing he would do 
 would be to surround the house with his men, so that it 
 would be utterly impossible for us to leave it without 
 being seen by one or the other of them." 
 
 -' Oh ! I am distracted. Let us submit to fate. I am 
 doomed to be his victim." 
 
 " Nay — nay, be calm. Recollect the old adage, " all are 
 not lost who are in danger," and perhaps, even now, 
 things may take a more favourable aspect than they 
 appear to wear at present. Be calm, and leave all to us. 
 We will do the best we can, both for your sake and our 
 own." 
 
 " What shall we do, then ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " I can hardly tell, but I should propose this." 
 
 "What?"
 
 3 GO 
 
 BLUESTCTN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " That we should fasten the door and erect a barricade 
 before it, composed of all the heavy articles of furniture 
 in the room." 
 
 " Would it not be best to leave it while we have the 
 chance ? " 
 
 " No, 1 think not ; for all we could do, if we were not 
 captured on the stairs, would be to enter another room. 
 As for leaving the house, I am quite sure that is an im- 
 possibility." 
 
 " I am afraid, then, that it is all over with us at last, 
 said Jack. 
 
 " I fear so, but hope not. 
 the landlord." 
 
 " Then it is a poor one." 
 
 " Not so ! I think he would do his best to save us.' 
 
 " But how is he to manage it ? " 
 
 " That is more than I can exactly see. We must wait 
 patiently." 
 
 " I think the best thing we can do is to erect a bam. 
 cade. If it does nothing else, it will of course retard our 
 capture." 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 Tt was at this moment that the three fugitives per- 
 ceivcd the first indications of the coming storm. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, who was already alarmed, was much 
 terrified by it, and Jack had no little trouble in soothing 
 her. 
 
 Blueskin busied himself in moving the different articles 
 of furniture, aud piling them up against the door, thus 
 forming a barricade that would be by no means easy to 
 surmount. 
 
 In a little while, when Bess grew calmer, Jack came to 
 his assistance. 
 
 In a few minutes, so energetically did they work, they 
 had their task completed. 
 
 They would now have to patiently await the cureent of 
 events. 
 
 Scarcely had they finished than Jonathan ascended the 
 stairs, and spoke aud kuocked at the door in the manner 
 we have recorded. 
 
 We have already seen that they took no notice whatever 
 of his call for surrender. 
 
 With what anxiety they listened to him, however, the 
 reader can easily comprehend, if he can for a moment 
 imagine himself in their situation. 
 
 Then came Jonathan's retreat, downstairs. 
 
 They heard it, aud could not conceive what it meant. 
 
 Gunning they knew him to be, and they were certain 
 this was only the commencement of some scheme by 
 which he trusted to effect their capture. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin looked carefully to the priming of 
 the pistols, aud held them ready for immediate service. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, sobbing aud crying as though her 
 heart would break, crouched down upon the floor. 
 
 Poor girl, she was quite overcome, and really abandoned 
 herself to despair. She felt that there was no longer 
 room for help, aud that it was futile to longer struggle 
 against her adverse destiny. 
 
 Her two protectors, whatever their feelings might be, 
 determined to defend her to the last gasp. 
 
 The little room in which they stood was profoundly 
 dark, and it was only when a blinding flash of lightning 
 shot across their vision that they were able to see each 
 other. 
 
 But these transient glimpses thus obtained were terrify- 
 ing to a degree to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The booming of the thunder, which rattled fearfully — 
 each peal seeming to grow louder than its predecessor — 
 effectually drowned the slight noise which Wild's men 
 made in rearing the ladder against the front of the inn. 
 
 They were in ignorance of these proceedings. 
 
 Both Jack aud Blueskin had endeavoured to account for 
 Jonathan having descended the stairs again, aud the con- 
 clusion to which they both came, though a probable 
 enough one, was very far indeed from being correct. 
 
 They fancied he had gone down in order to obtain some- 
 thing wherewith he could force the door. 
 
 The thought of his changing the point of his attack to 
 the window never entered their minds, and the first iuti- 
 mation they had of his having done so was a terrific 
 crash. 
 
 Looking round instantly to ascertain the cause of ft, 
 they saw that Jonathan had dashed himself bodily through 
 the casement. 
 
 The first thing Blueskin and Sheppard did upon making 
 this discovery was to fire both their pistols. 
 
 The darkness of the place prevented their seeing 
 whether they had taken the effect they wished. 
 
 Jonathan was well supported by his janizaries, and they 
 poured into the room with extraordinary rapidity. 
 
 Edgworth Bess sprang to her feet, and clung to Jack' a 
 arm. 
 
 He clasped her round the waiet, and endeavoured to 
 reassure her by a tender pressure. 
 
 Then they heard a voice, which to them was discord 
 Our only chance lies with j itself, cry — 
 
 " Don t fire, my men — don't fire 
 
 . I want to take them 
 all three alive and unhurt. We shall do it easily enough, 
 never fear, for they can't get out. Don't fire, for fear you 
 should wound one of them by a chance shot. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild who spoke. 
 
 At the same moment he rushed forward. 
 
 Then a flash of lightning, of such intense brilliancy 
 that the eyeballs of all seemed scorched by it, illuminated 
 the room. 
 
 It was gone with that rapidity which is perceptible in 
 nothing save lightuing. 
 
 But, brief as was the light, it showed to our friends 
 Jonathan Wild and his band of desperadoes. 
 
 They, too, were seen, and Jonathan noted the exact 
 position which they occupied. 
 
 Then all was dark again. 
 
 But the janizaries one by one produced their lanterns. 
 
 They had not extinguished them, but merely placed 
 them in the capacious pockets in their coats while they 
 ascended the ladder. 
 
 Very soon, then, there was a constant light in the little 
 chamber. 
 
 All the lanterns were directed upon one spot. 
 
 That was where the three fugitives stood. 
 
 Their forms were as fully revealed as if it was broad 
 daylight. 
 
 They, however, had not the advantage of seeing their 
 foes. 
 
 Indeed, all they could perceive were the round bright 
 lenses of the lanterns. 
 
 In quick succession Jack and Blueskiu discharged their 
 remaining pistols at the dense throng before them, aud 
 then drew their swords — determined to fight to the last. 
 
 " Upon them, bull-dogs," shouted Wild. " Upon them ! 
 Rush upon them in a body, and they will be overpowered 
 instantly. Down with them — but use no weapons but 
 your hands." 
 
 On receipt of these orders the janizaries made a simul- 
 taneous aud vigorous rush upon their prey. 
 
 It was in vain that Jack aud Blueskiu endeavoured to 
 defend themselves with their swords. 
 
 They were borne down at once, for the impetuosity 
 with which the bull-dogs rushed at them was irresistible. 
 
 In a moment they were all three upon the ground, with 
 six times their weight of janizaries to keep them down. 
 
 There was no hope for them now. 
 
 In this position they were perfectly helpless. 
 
 With speed aud dexterity they were handcuffed. 
 
 Then they were indeed prisoners. 
 
 Jonathan's eyes gleamed with triumph. 
 
 He had at last achieved that which had hitherto been 
 attended with so many difficulties. 
 
 He could scarcely contain himself for joy. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was ready to swoon with terror, but 
 with a great effort she retained her consciousness. 
 
 The dread of being insensible in the hands of Wild 
 alone enabled her to obtain a mastery over the feeling. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was silent. 
 
 He could not have spoken had words been offered him 
 — he was literally choked with vexation aud disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 It was the same with Blueskin. 
 
 Jonathan laughed triumphantly and discordantly as he 
 took a lantern from the hands of one of his men, aud 
 flashed its light upon the persons of the three prisoners. 
 
 At last they were in his power. 
 
 He could scarcely believe it was real. 
 
 His joy was, however, extreme, and he swore a mental 
 ; oath that they should not again escape him with life. 
 
 Then, turning to his men, he said — 
 
 " Clear away that rubbish before the door, and let us 
 go downstairs. '
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 861 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD HAS A FEW WORDS WITH HIS SON.] 
 
 Hia order was promptly obeyed, for his janizaries were 
 quite as delighted as he to think they had succeeded in 
 their object. 
 
 They trusted to its having an amiable effect upon their 
 master's temper. 
 
 Alacriously, then, they set about their duty, and soon 
 had the pile of lumber removed from before the door. 
 
 Then they unfastened it and flung it open. 
 
 The prisoners were then compelled to move. 
 
 Fearing that some violence would be offered to Edg- 
 worth Bess if they refused to move, Jack and Blueskin 
 submitted to the wishes of their captors without a murmur 
 or a struggle. 
 
 One by one they were led down the stairs under a strong 
 escort. 
 
 Jonathan followed them. 
 
 Upon reaching the bottom, they stood for a moment in 
 the passage. 
 
 The storm still continued ; indeed, its violence was now 
 much greater than it had hitherto been. 
 
 The flashes of lightning were more brilliant and inces 
 sant, while the peals of thunder were so loud as to cause a 
 momentary deafness after they had subsided. 
 
 It was, moreover, now accompanied with such a deluge 
 of rain, that it seemed as though some waterfall was 
 descending upon the earth. 
 • The interior of the inn was but poorly illuminated. 
 
 Ross, the landlord, however, stood near the bar door 
 with a lighted candle in his hand, as the party descended 
 the stairs. 
 
 Blueskin looked at him — not in anger, for he felt how 
 utterly powerless the landlord was to prevent what had 
 just taken place. 
 
 Ross was conscious that the eyes of his oTd friend was 
 on him, and he allowed something to appear upon his 
 features which Blueskin construed into a hope. 
 
 He fancied that the landlord would even yet do some- 
 thing towards effecting their release. 
 
 But how ? 
 
 He could not think. 
 
 No. 46.
 
 162 
 
 BLUE3KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 On reaching tlie passage, Jonathan stalked to Hie front 
 door of the inn. 
 
 It was closed. 
 
 But he lifted the latch, and opened it 
 
 The aspect of the weather without rather d is roved him*, 
 
 As we have before said, Jonathan Wild Lao rai&ei a 
 horror of thunder and lightning. 
 
 Not only this, it was quite certain if ever he went .jut 
 while that rain continued he would be wet through to the 
 skin in less than a moment. 
 
 A curse came from his lips as he saw this. 
 
 He hated to be interfered with by anything or anybody. 
 
 He wished to make his way to Newgate-street with his 
 prisoners with all speed, and on arriving there, to immure 
 them in one of his dungeons, taking such precautions as 
 would effectually preclude all possibility of their makiDg 
 their escape. 
 
 But under the present aspect of affairs it seemed next to 
 an impossibility for him to do this. 
 
 And yet he felt that to remain at the inn until the 
 violence of the storm had abated, would bo to expose him- 
 self to a very great risk. 
 
 But the reader must not for a moment fall into the mis- 
 take of supposing that it was through any clement feeling 
 upon Wild's part with regard to his prisoners that made 
 Lim hesitate about proceeding direct to London. 
 
 To be sure, Edgworth Bess was only of value to him 
 while she was alive, and that manifestly it was his best 
 policy to take all the care other be could. 
 
 TLe chief thing, however, that was present to his mind 
 was the terrific nature of the storm. 
 
 And this was scarcely to be wondered at. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND HIS GANG FALL EASY VICTIMS TO 
 KOSS'S CLEVEB FLAN. 
 
 It is only at very rare intervals indeed that such a storm 
 as that was desolates the plains of England. 
 
 Jonathan was quite sure that never in all his life had 
 he seen or heard anything like it. 
 
 The brilliant flashes of lightning seemed to show them- 
 selves without intermission, while the thunder roared in- 
 cessantly. 
 
 And the rain. 
 
 It came down perfectly straight, and when it reached 
 the ground, so violent was its descent, that it rebounded 
 several inches. 
 
 The road, too, in frout of the house, soon became quite 
 flooded, for the earth could not absorb the moisture, 
 neither could it run off in the provided channels as quickly 
 as it came down. 
 
 For almost two minutes Jonathan Wild stood at the 
 door of the inn beholding the strife of the elements. 
 
 Then, not being able to perceive the least signs of its 
 abatement — fancying, on the contrary, that it increased — 
 he turned away, closing the door after him. 
 
 Ross, the landlord, who still held the candle in his 
 hand, came towards him. 
 
 The janizaries, keeping a tight hold upon the prisoners, 
 had not moved from their station n\ the foot of the stairs. 
 
 In a most respectful tone of voice, Ross addressed the 
 thief-taker. 
 
 " This is an awful storm, Mr. Wild," he said, " a truly 
 awful storm, and I am afraid it is going to last a good 
 while louger yet. Would you like to stop hero a little 
 while, Mr. Wild, for, if you were to go out, you wot-M be 
 quite drenched and blinded ? " 
 
 " This is an inn, isn't it ? " growled Wild. 
 
 " Certainly, sir." 
 
 " Then I can stay if I choose without anyone's per- 
 mission." 
 
 " Certainly you could, Mr. Wild," replied Boss, deter- 
 mined, fur the sake of our friends, not to take offence at 
 him, no matter bow offensive his remarks became. " Cer- 
 tainly you could stay, but' I merely spoke out of c.'viiity. 
 I only meant you were quite welcome to make use ni my 
 house if you thought proper." 
 
 "Oh! very well. We will stay until the stcini gives 
 over a little, or, at all events, until it shows some signs of 
 doing so." 
 
 " Which it certainly does not at present. But where 
 .vould you like to stay, for I am afraid I have not got 
 c room large enough to accommodate the whole of you." 
 
 " Show us into the largest room you have got, and then 
 we will do our best to make shift." 
 
 The landlord rubbed his head, and pretended to be con- 
 fused. 
 
 *'The largest room in the house, Mr. Wild, is the 
 tilchsn." 
 
 " The kitchen ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, the kitchen." 
 
 " Then take us there at once, the kitchen will do as 
 well as anywhere." 
 
 " I'll tell you what it is, Mr. Wild, and, then, after- 
 wards, if you like to go down in the kitchen, you can." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Why, we are doing a great deal in the cooking way." 
 
 "Isthatall?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then, that does not matter." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild, I am glad to hear you say so, 
 only I thought I had better mention it." 
 
 "Bah! stuff! Lead the way, and we will follow. If 
 we are to stop hero half-an-Lcur we cau't stand in the 
 passage." 
 
 "Of course you can't, Mr. Wild. Be good enough to 
 follow me, and I will lead the way." 
 
 Jonathan took no further heed of Ross, but called 
 to his men — 
 
 "Look sharp after your three prisoners, my lads, and 
 follow me. They are slippery customers, you know." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild," was the response, and, as they 
 spoke, the janizaries tightened their grasp upon their 
 prisoners. 
 
 _ On their part, however, the fugitives offered no re- 
 sistance, and had no thought of offering any. 
 
 They saw that, just at present, it would be worse than 
 useless, for not only would it bo impossible for them to 
 release themselves, but, by making the attempt, they 
 would only bo likely to bring down upon themselves 
 additional ill-usage and severity. 
 
 Accordingly, with a manner that was humble enough, 
 they followed the janizaries whither they led them. 
 
 Poor Edgworth Bess was quite cast down with grief. 
 
 All the terrible efforts she had made to escape from the 
 evil genius of her life had been in vain. 
 
 She was once again in his power, and this time there 
 was still less hope that she should be able to escape from 
 him, because he would redouble his precautions to retain 
 her in his custody. 
 
 Besides which, her two defenders and protectors were 
 in the same predicament as herself. 
 
 So it was no wonder the poor girl felt so cast down as 
 ih i' did. 
 
 On the other hand, Blueskin was full of hope. 
 
 He relied upon Ross finding an opportunity to put them 
 in the way of effecting their escape if they remained long 
 in the inn. 
 
 He looked upon the conversation respecting the kitchen 
 from this point of view, and felt convinced that it was but 
 the prelude to some scheme which Ross had formed. 
 
 Whether he was correct or not, we shall very qui 
 see. 
 
 The whole party proceeded to this place, which was a 
 long room, apparently added to the main structure of the 
 inn by being built out into the yard. 
 
 As soon as they entered, their nostrils were saluted 
 with a most savoury and appetizing smell, which 
 ceeded from the culinary operations of which Be.^s ho..; 
 spoken. 
 
 The fire-gi-ate was a huge one, and occupied tho whole 
 of oue end of the kitchen. 
 
 By the directions of the landlord, additional chairs and 
 benches were brought in, upon which the janizaries and 
 their prisoners could sit down. 
 
 Then the apartment was still further illuminated by 
 lighting some candles, which were stuck in tin sconce,* 
 along the walls. 
 
 By the aid of theso Wild was able to take in the general 
 aspect of the place, which he did before he sat down. 
 
 When he did so, he placed a chair in such a position 
 that, as he occupied it, he could observe every movement 
 of the three prisoners, and, by holding out his arm at full 
 lengih, almost touch them. 
 
 This, then, was the aspeet of affairs on that eventful 
 evening when things looked so bl ick against our friends. 
 
 And still the storm cont: i unmitigated fury.
 
 BLTTESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 3C3 
 
 Alter a time, as they sat down, the men, and Jonathan 
 included, turned their eyes around them listlessly, because 
 they had nothing to do. 
 
 As for Koss, he took good care to keep aloof. 
 
 Where he was, or what engaged him, none knew but 
 himself. 
 
 Presently, however, he made his appearance in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 " It's no good my sitting in the bar such a night, °« ^his, 
 Mr. Wild, waiting for customers, is it ?" 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 " It's a most unfortunate thing for me, this storm is." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Why, you see, a large party promised to ccmo here to 
 supper to-night, and that is the reason you see all this 
 cooking going on. Now, do you know, there's as nice a 
 piece of beef hanging before that fire as ever was put 
 upon the spit, and there's a leg of mutton of equally good 
 quality boiling in that pot over the fire." 
 
 "And I suppose you are afraid this storm will keep 
 your guests away ? " replied Wild, who had sat in his 
 chair and looked at his prisoners so long that he was 
 quite amiable. 
 
 " I am more than afraid, Mr. Wild ; I am quite certain 
 they will not come now. For who in the world would 
 start out on a night like this for the nicest supper in the 
 world ? " 
 
 " Very true." 
 
 " And besides, most of them would have a long way to 
 come ; and even if the storm was to cease this moment, 
 the roads would be in such a state that, for the next hour 
 or so, they would be almost impassable. I was at the 
 front door just now, and the rain seems to have regularly 
 dug the earth up, and the depth of the mud is something 
 more than I can tell." 
 
 " And about this supper ? " said Wild. " Will all the 
 loss fall upon you ? " 
 
 " I am afraid so." 
 
 " That is unfortunate." 
 
 " I said so, sir ; this storm is a most unfortunate thing 
 for me." 
 
 "And for me, too," growled the thief-taker, "or else, 
 by this time, I should have been a good way on my read 
 to Newgate." 
 
 " Just so, Mr. Wild. But then you are not quite so bad 
 off as me, because your prisoners cannot help being per- 
 fectly secure while you have got your own eye3 upon 
 them." 
 
 " Oli ! very true. I don't say but what they are safe 
 enough " 
 
 " Still, you would rather see them in Newgate ? " 
 
 "Just so. But, Ross?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " You have acted very fairly and straightforwardly with 
 me in this matter, and I am sorry to find you will sustain 
 such a loss." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " However, I don't mind having something for the good 
 ot your house, and as my bull-dogs have done their duty 
 very well, and as they have got a long ride before them, 
 why, they shall have something for the good of the house 
 too." 
 
 The janizaries gave utterance to cries of unqualified 
 satisfaction as they heard these words fall from the lips of 
 their imperious master. 
 
 They found sitting there without anything to drink 
 was very dry, uninteresting work. 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Wild," replied 
 Boss, " very much obliged to you ; and no one will ever 
 find me saying a bad word against you. What would you 
 like to take ? " 
 
 " What have you got ?" 
 
 " Almost anything you like to mention, but there ia one 
 article in my cellar which I cannot help especially recom- 
 mending." 
 
 " What's that ? " 
 
 " Some prime old October ale of my own brewing 
 Perhaps I ought not to praise it myself, but I am quite 
 rare, after you have once tasted it, I shall have no occa- 
 sion to do so." 
 
 " Well," said Wild, " that will suit us, I fancy, as well 
 as anything. You shall bring in half-a-dozen tankards of 
 this ale yoa epeak of, and serve it out all round to my 
 men." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Wild," said Ross ; and off he '.vent, 
 apparently in high glee, to execute this order. 
 
 He soon returned, bringing with him the half-dozen 
 tankards, which he placed on the table, immediately in 
 front of Wild, who said — 
 
 " Servo it out — serve it out." 
 
 Glasses were filled, and one given to the thief-taker. 
 
 The remainder were handed round to the band. 
 
 Ross performed this duty, but, as he did it, he never 
 made the least offer to give the three prisoners any. 
 
 But then their hands were tied behind them. 
 
 Slight as this circumstance was, however, Blueskin took 
 note of it, and the hope that, after all, they would escape, 
 strengthened and strengthened in his mind. 
 
 But he allowed nothing of this feeling to he perceptible 
 in his countenance. 
 
 The ale was drunk with great relish, and Ross filled the 
 glasses again, and said — 
 
 " Mr. Wild, what do you think of the ale P " 
 
 " Very good ; but I prefer brandy." 
 
 " Do 3'ou sir ? I have got some of first-rate quality." 
 
 " Never mind. I will have another glass of ale, as I 
 have had one already." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild. Ah ! look, now isn't that a sight to 
 fetch the tears into anybody's eyes ? Oh ! dear." 
 
 Jonathan turned round to see the sight referred to by 
 the landlord, and saw the cook taking up the joints of 
 meat, having quite despaired of the coming of the expected 
 guests. 
 
 It certainly did seem a very great shame that such 
 tempting and delicious viands should be spoiled, and yet 
 there seemed no help for it, and Jonathan expressed him- 
 self to that effect. 
 
 "Would you like to have a snack, Mr. Wild," said Ross, 
 as if struck with a new idea. " It's no good for it to 
 spoil, and if you feel inclined I am sure you are very wel- 
 come." 
 
 " Thank you, Ross," said Wild, who had grown quite 
 hungry through snuffing the cooking. " I don't see any 
 signs of the weather improving, so I don't mind having a 
 taste." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Here, stop ! Ross ! " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " I'll tell you what you shall do, and then, after all, you 
 won't be such a very great loser." 
 
 " I should bo glad to hear that, Mr. Wild. How can it 
 be?" 
 
 "As I said before," replied Wild, who appeared, in a 
 most singular manner, to grow more and more good-tem- 
 pered every moment ; " as I said before, I am very much 
 pleased with the way you have acted all through this 
 affair. You have given me every assistance. Then there's 
 my bull-dogs, they have behaved themselves well. Now 
 I think you ought both to be rewarded." 
 
 " I think I understand you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You shall serve the supper up to my bull-dogs and 
 me, and sit down to it yourself, and we will reckon up 
 afterwards for the lot." 
 
 " Mr. Wild," said Ross, " I am so obliged to you 
 that" 
 
 But the remainder of his speech was drowned by the 
 clamour which the janizaries made when they heard how 
 munificently their employer was about to behave to them. 
 
 Probably no one was more astonished at seeing Wild in 
 this vein, than Jack Sheppard. 
 
 It was quite inexplicable to him. 
 
 Even Blueskin, familiar as he was with the thief-taker 
 and his ways, was puzzled. There was something extra- 
 ordinary in this behaviour, he was sure. 
 
 Ross, however, busied himself, and soon had a tempting 
 white cloth spread upon the table. 
 
 Upon this the viands were placed, and tiien Jonathan 
 I and his men drew close up to the table. 
 ' Jonathan's beneficence did not, however, extend to his 
 j prisoners. 
 
 He did not invito them to partake of the feast, and 
 Ross, though he would have been only too glad for them 
 to do so, felt how impolitic it would be for him to allude 
 to it in any way, so he passed it over in silence. 
 
 Jonathan's janizaries were hungry. 
 It was astonishing to see with what rapidity (lie joint*, 
 both roast and boiled, disappeared, and as for Ross, Lo 
 was quite kept on with carving.
 
 564 
 
 dSjTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 The tLree fugitives had the pleasure of looking 011 upon 
 all this. 
 
 More of tiio October ale which Boss had so strongly 
 recommended was brought in, and full justice was paid 
 both to it and to the esculents. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLVI. 
 
 JACK SHEl'PAliO, BLUESKIN, AND EDGWORTM BESS SUC- 
 CEED IN THEIR ATTEMPT TO ESCAPK FROM JMNMIlAtf 
 \\ II. 1). 
 
 Gradually the storm subsided. 
 
 The Bashes of lightning became less vivid, Mid the 
 rumbling of the thunder less tremendous. 
 
 The pi als i ame, too, at much longer intervals. 
 
 Bui the ruin poured down steadily enough, though not 
 with the impetuosity which had before distinguished it. 
 
 Still Jonathan and bis men seemed quite oblivious of 
 it. 
 
 Surely that old October ale possessed some very strange 
 and curious qualities. 
 
 In fact, the more they drank of it, the more good-tem- 
 pered they grew, until, at length, they positively called 
 upon Jonathan for a song. 
 
 All this our friends watched with an all-absorbing 
 interest, though to Blueskin it was perfectly intelligible. 
 
 He could tell that Eoss, the landlord, was doing much 
 more in his and their behalf than ever he would have 
 expected. 
 
 In fact, cautious as the landlord was, and having so 
 much dread of the thief-taker as he knew him to have, 
 he could scarcely believe that he was not making some 
 mistake. 
 
 But no, there was Wild, and there were his men, all 
 looking as merry as they well could, and about as oblivious 
 of prudence as it was possible for them to be. 
 
 Yet Ross had never given Blueskin the least sign that 
 things were progressing favourably for him. Perhaps the 
 on was that he should be seen, and that be did not 
 wish to have all his trouble for nothing. 
 
 Suddenly, however, one of tho janizaries doubled up 
 into a curious heap and slipped under the table. 
 
 But, such was the state of excitement in which all bis 
 companions were, the circumstance was unnoticed, except 
 by those who were seated next, and all they did was to 
 laugh. 
 
 After the lapse of a moment, another of the bull-dogs, 
 as Jonathan loved to call them, doubled up and disap- 
 peared in precisely the same manner. 
 
 He was followed by another and another, and with in- 
 creasing rapidity. 
 
 The reader, doubtless, already suspects what had taken 
 place, and, therefore, there is no reason for us to keep it 
 a secret any longer. 
 
 Ross was a man who possessed one of those dispositions 
 which can never forget a kindness. 
 
 Now, although a long time had elapsed since Blueskin 
 bad performed the service to which we have alluded, 
 still— 
 
 His memory was green, 
 
 and he resolved, no matter how much he might personally 
 inconvenience himself, to requite the favour. 
 
 Accordingly, then, when he had made up his mind to 
 this, he determined to induce Jonathan, by some means or 
 other, to remain for a time at the inn. 
 
 We have seen how cleverly he took advantage of all the 
 circumstances which would enable him to do so, and how, 
 without Jonathan being aware of it, he had contrived to 
 supply them with ale, and then to keep them still longer 
 by serving up the meat. 
 
 The ale was drugged. 
 
 Not one pot was brought in that did not have some 
 addition made to it by the landlord. 
 
 And this did not alter the taste of the ale — on tho con- 
 trary, it seemed to improve its flavour, giving it a richness 
 and creaminess, if we may so speak. 
 
 Wc are not afraid to say that there are plenty of pub- 
 lican's who know very well what it was that Ross put into 
 the ale. 
 
 It was a decoction of berries, used to impart an intoxi- 
 cating quality to whatever it was added to. _ 
 
 A ... rtain quantity always found its way into the casks I consider was purely my duty, and there the matter rests." 
 <■>( ■ ! i I all the landlord did was to add a "Not go. 1 know you will not refuse to receive oomo 
 
 little more in each tankard. compcuoatiou for tho loss you hftVO nli-ctuly and may 
 
 Its effects were not sudden, but gradual and un- 
 conscious. 
 
 It stole upon them unawares. 
 
 And so the janizaries, as the fumes rose up into their 
 brains, felt themselves deprived of sense and strength, and 
 their bodies collapsing in the manner we have described, 
 they fell under the table. 
 
 At length, Jonathan Wild, who seemed to withstand 
 the power of the drug much better than his men, became 
 aware that they were one after another falling off their 
 seats in a state of helpless drunkenness. 
 
 This was a condition of things that would never answ er. 
 
 Uttering a terrible imprecation, he sprang to his feet. 
 
 But his excitement and motion appeared to accelerato 
 its effect, upon him, for his legs suddenly gave way beneath 
 him. 
 
 He felt himself going — felt that he was growing over- 
 powered, and made a frantic effort to recover himself. 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 He clutched at the edge of the table, but it slipped from 
 his grasp, and he fell as helpless and insensible as a log of 
 wood upon the floor. 
 
 None of his janizaries remained to follow his example. 
 
 They were all down. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess viewed this scene 
 with the greatest astonishment, and were scarcely able to 
 understand it. 
 
 Blueskin, however, knew all. 
 
 As soon as he saw that it was prudent for him to do so, 
 Ross approached them. 
 
 " Mr. Blake," ho said, " I have acquitted myself of the 
 obbgation I was under to you. You are free." 
 
 "You have acquitted it nobly," replied Blueskin, 
 "though, I am afraid, at great cost to yourself." 
 
 "Never mind that now. Quick. You cannot be too 
 quick, for there is no knowing how soon Jonathan may 
 recover, and make your escape difficult, if not doubtful." 
 
 " You must release us, Ross. We arc powerless to help 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Are you handcuffed ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then I must get some keys. Stop a moment." 
 
 " Don't be any longer than you can help." 
 
 " Rely upon me, Mr. Blake." 
 
 As ho spoke, the landlord hastened towards the 
 prostrate body of Wild, and, feeling in his pockets, soon 
 found a bunch of keys, which he doubted not would 
 release the three prisoners from their disagreeable thral- 
 dom. 
 
 And iu this anticipation he was uot disappointed, and 
 our friends, to their unspeakable satisfaction, found then- 
 arms and hands at liberty. 
 
 " Now," said Ross, " don't stop to talk to each other, 
 but follow me as quickly as you are able. The storm is 
 quite over, and you have a good chance of making your 
 escape." 
 
 " But the horses from Tumposki's ? " said Blueskin, 
 "some fatality seems to attend them. I suppose the 
 storm which had the effect of detaining Wild here will 
 also have kept them away ; so what are we to do for horses 
 in our flight ? " 
 
 " Surely you forget Jonathan Wild's P " 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! yes, he came here on horseback, and so did 
 all his men." 
 
 " Of course they did." 
 
 " And where are the horses ? " 
 
 " All in the stable, and you can have a good pick out of 
 them. Take the three best." 
 
 " Ross, you have indeed saved us." 
 
 " I have tried to do so." 
 
 " But, my friend, when Jouatliau recovers, what shall 
 .you dor His anger will be terrible, and your life will not 
 be safe at his hands." 
 
 " I will get out of his way, never fear." 
 
 " Do so, for it would grieve mo much if any harm hap- 
 pened to you. But. do not think that I shall allow you to 
 be a loser by this night's work. You have saved us, but 
 it has been at the cost of your own ruin. However, we 
 set a high value on the possession of our lives and liberty, 
 and you shall have it." 
 
 " I want no reward, Mr. Blake. What I have done I
 
 fuhively sustain. Meet me two clays hence in West- 
 minster Abbey, and you shall receive a reward for what 
 you Lave done." 
 
 " Many thanks. I am a struggling man, and do not feel 
 ashamed to confess that just now money is of especial 
 value to me, and that I should be very thankful for your 
 bounty." 
 
 " Do not call it bounty, because it is not. It Is rather 
 the repayment of a service you have done us, of the vorth 
 of which we could make no estimate." 
 
 " What time shall I meet you? " 
 
 " At the hour of midnight two days hence I wilr bo in 
 the recess known as Poet's-corner. When you come, 
 whistle chirpingly, and you will speedily perceive me 
 make my appearance." 
 
 " 1 will do so, and once again I oner you my thanks." 
 
 " Nay — nay. The thanks are due, not from you to us, 
 but from us to you ; for had it not been for your exertions 
 in our favour we should by this time have been wholly in 
 the power of the villain Wild." 
 
 While this little conversation went forward, the land- 
 lord and our three friends made their way out of the 
 kitchen, in which the thief-taker and his baud lay in such a 
 state of helplessness, and emerged into the yard at the 
 back of the inn. 
 
 By this time all traces of the storm had gone. 
 
 The rain had ceased to fall, and the clouds had 
 vanished, leaving the sky a pure bright blue, studded with 
 brilliant stars, and the moon shining resplendently. 
 
 Crossing the yard, the landlord led them to the stables 
 iu which Wild's horses bad been placed. 
 
 Their trappings had not been removed. 
 
 Three of the best were selected, and let out with all 
 convenient speed. 
 
 Then a fresh difficulty presented itself, and one that had 
 been entirely overlooked. 
 
 It was this. 
 
 Edgw orth Bess could not ride without a side-saddle. 
 
 Now, as the reader must be aware, none of Wild's 
 horses were bkely to be thus provided. 
 
 But Ross relieved them from this difficulty by finding a 
 saddle which belonged to him, and which he substituted 
 with all speed for the one the horse had previously worn. 
 
 This done, the three friends mounted, and set off at full 
 speed along the high-road. 
 
 Boss watched them for some little distance, until at 
 length their forms became undistinguishable in the gloom, 
 and then turned his attention to a consideration of his 
 own safety. 
 
 He knew well enough that he should have small mercy 
 to expect from the thief-taker when be recovered from his 
 stupor, because he would know, of course, just how he 
 had been treated. 
 
 " I must fly," said the landlord, at length ; " it won't do 
 to stay here. I must fly, but first I must make known my 
 intention to those within." 
 
 Accordingly, after having come to this determination, 
 he re-entered the inn, and, calling his two daughters aside, 
 made them acquainted with his intentions to abscoud for 
 a little while, and gave them express injunctions not to let 
 Wild know anything, but to leave him to take his own 
 course when he awoke. 
 
 This done, Ross made free with one of the thief-taker's 
 horses himself, and rode off to stay with a friend of his 
 who lived at a distant quarter of the town, and where he 
 knew he could remain for a time in perfect security. 
 
 Leaving him to carry out his intention, and leaving the 
 three fugitives to make the best use they could of the 
 time before them, we will return to the inn, and relate 
 what took place upon the awakenment of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The drug was a powerful one, besides which a large 
 quantity of ale had been drank, and, as a liberal quantity 
 had been placed in each tankard, the men were very far 
 xojic in insensibility. 
 
 i i ie strange that Wild should have allowed himself to 
 De muue the victim of such a trick. 
 
 One would have thought the great thief-taker would 
 not havo been so easily over-reached. 
 
 But the fact was, he was so elated with the thought 
 that he had at length succeeded in taking all three of our 
 friends into custody that he, to a very great extent forgot 
 bis usual caution. 
 
 And then the behaviour of Ross, the landiordj waa a 
 piece of finished acting. 
 
 Not for one moment did he allow it to be sceu that he 
 wished Jonathan to stay. 
 
 If he 5tad, and if he hud been clumsy in the least, then 
 Wild's suspicions would have been fully aroused. 
 
 But as it was, ho had spoken and acted so naturally 
 that Wild was completely deceived by it, and never 
 dreamt that all that was done was the result of preconcer- 
 tion. 
 
 And so he fell blindly enough into the snare which had 
 been laid for him. 
 
 He drank the drugged ale himself, without being aware 
 of any peculiarity in the taste of it 
 
 So did his men. 
 
 It was just about dawn when one of the janizaries 
 opened his eyes, and began to show other symptoms of 
 returning consciousness. 
 
 And as they one by one dropped off into their lethargic 
 slumber, so did they awake from it. 
 
 There were some who felt its effects lingering about 
 their brains rather longer than the rest, but then they 
 had perhaps partaken of more than their proper share. 
 
 At length Jonathan Wild himself awoke. 
 
 He glared at first in a confused fashion round him. 
 
 Then he struggled to his feet. 
 
 The fire had quite burned out, and so had the caudles in 
 the sconces along the walls. 
 
 A dim misty light alone found its way iu. 
 
 But when Jonathan found what had taken place, he 
 gave utterance to one of his most ferocious howls. 
 
 Whatever members of his band had not recovered 
 themselves were thoroughly aroused by that sound. 
 
 They all started to their feet. 
 
 " The prisoners ! " yelled Wild, " the prisoners ! Where 
 are they ? " 
 
 The janizaries glared round them with the utmost 
 dismay. 
 
 The prisoners were not to be seen. 
 
 " We have been drugged," said the thief-taker. 
 " Drugged by the landlord of this infernal public-house, 
 and the prisoners cajoled away. Quick ! up, every one of 
 you." 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan Wild made a rush into the bar, 
 which he found vacant. 
 
 He could not very well blame auy of his men for what 
 had happened, for he was as bad himself as they were. 
 
 But that little circumstance only served to increase his 
 ill-humour. 
 
 He was resolved, however, to lose no more time than ho 
 could help, but to at once set forward on the trail. 
 
 Those he sought, and who he had allowed to slip 
 through his fingers when he thought he had them so tight 
 in his grasp, were doubtless a long way off by now. 
 
 But he by no means despaired of finding them. 
 
 First, however, he felt he had a score to settle with the 
 landlord. 
 
 But he was nowhere to be found. 
 
 Jonathan, however, was not to be thus balked of hia 
 revenge. 
 
 Another circumstance occurred, too, which still further 
 served to exasperate him. 
 
 One of the men who had been sent to the stables, came 
 back with the disagreeable intelligence that four of the 
 horses were missing. 
 
 Jonathan was now utterly furious. 
 
 He set the example of smashing everything brittle he 
 could lay his hands upon, and his men assisted him until 
 the havoc made was really dreadful to witness. 
 
 Then, mounting one of the steeds, the others did like- 
 wise — the horses having to take it iu turns to carrv 
 double. 
 
 In this way he renewed the chase. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLVII. 
 
 THE FUGITIVES MAKE A STAY AT THE " COACH ANT> 
 HOUSES," ISLEWORTH. 
 
 The three fugitives were not long in finding, after they 
 left the inn, that the three horses they had taken, belong- 
 ing to Jonathan Wild, were really of first-rate quality. 
 
 They git over the ground rapidly, in spite of its dis- 
 agreeable character, and Bess preserved her seat much 
 better than her two preservers could have hoped. 
 
 There was no apparent need for them to make the haata 
 they did, but they knew the character of their dreadful
 
 36G 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE 
 
 enemy, and that it would be their best policy to put as 
 much gi-ouud between themselves and him as they could 
 before ho recovered his senses. 
 
 But in order not to knock the horses up too soon, they 
 allowed their gallop to subside into a trot, which, never- 
 theless, took them along at a tolerable rata. 
 
 It afforded them, too, the opportunity of speech. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was the first to avail himself of it. 
 
 " All this seems like a dream to me," he said. " I can 
 scarcely believe that we have actually been all three in 
 Jonathan Wild's hands, and that we have got oat oi thcni 
 so soon." 
 
 " It is a fact, notwithstanding," replied Blueskin ; " but 
 you may make sure of this, that if Ross had not chosen to 
 stand our friend in the way he did, we should by this time 
 be safe in the cells below Wild's house in Newgate-street. 
 
 " I suppose we should." 
 
 " It's quite certain. Now, Jack, you beard what kind 
 of a promise 1 made to Ross." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " 1 did not consult you about it before I spoke, because 
 I thought as time was so pressing there was no need for 
 me to do so." 
 
 " You were quite right." 
 
 " I am glad to have your consent. We could not 
 properly estimate the value of the service be has done us, 
 and you may depend Jonathan will make him suffer rather 
 severely for it. Don't you think he will ? " 
 
 " I don't think anything at all about it." 
 
 " You mean you are quite sure." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well then, I conceive that the least we could do would 
 be to make him what compensation lies in our power." 
 
 " I am quite of that opinion." 
 
 " And so am I," said Edgwortb Bess ; " and should 
 have mentioned it myself if you had not proposed it." 
 
 " I am very much pleased to find we are all so unani- 
 mous upon this subject," replied Blueskin. "You heard 
 what I said to him ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I promised to be in two nights' time atPoet's-corner, 
 Westminster Abbey, where I would givo him some com- 
 pensation for what he bad done for us." 
 
 " Just so. What do you propose next ? " 
 
 " I can hardly tell you. There is one thing that troubles 
 me very much." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " Why, Jonathan Wild being so upon our track. How 
 did he know we were staying at the inn ? " 
 
 " There I am as much at fault as yourself." 
 
 " It is an embarrassing circumstance, is it not?*' 
 
 "Very.'; 
 
 " I don't think the meeting was a chance one." 
 
 " Nor do I ; for if you will recollect he was in the act of 
 drawing up before the inn when he unfortunately saw us." 
 
 " I am afraid we shall learn little by speculating upon 
 the matter. What makes me uneasy is, I cannot divest 
 myself of the idea that Jonathan have some means of 
 ascertaining where we are and what we are about, which 
 we are in ignorance of." 
 
 " I am afraid so, too," replied Jack. 
 
 " When— oh ! when," exclaimed Edgwortb Bess, " will 
 his persecutions cease ? " 
 
 " You may depend not until he either obtains the object 
 of his desires, or is utterly defeated." 
 
 " Alas ! that we should have to wage such a battle ! " 
 
 " We are compelled to do so in our own defence." 
 
 "Nay," replied Edgwortb Bess, " you must not seek to 
 delude me with that idea. I know perfectly well that 
 Jonathan's enmity to you is caused solely by your cham- 
 pionship of myself and my cause, and I am also conscious 
 that I alone am the cause of all that you have suffered 
 since you knew me." 
 
 " I don't pretend to deny," replied Blueskin, " that a 
 great portion of Wild's enmity proceeds from the cause 
 you have referred to, but that it does wholly, I must beg 
 leave to deny." _ 
 
 " You would fain deny the other if you could." 
 
 " Nay — nay. But never mind. We have eulisted our- 
 selves in your service, and we will never quit it until we 
 are laid low by the hand of death, or until you succeed in 
 gaining possession of your rights." 
 
 _ " I shall have much to thank you for if ever that happy 
 time arrives. When it does, I trust I shall be provided 
 
 with sufficient means to reward you both as you deserve 
 to be rewarded." 
 
 " We wish for no reward," said Jack Sheppard, " and, 
 for my own part, I should accept of none. What I have 
 done has been done willingly and voluntarily." 
 
 " I know that, Jack. I know that. But, nevertheless, 
 ira.Juld tbe time ever arrive, I know you would not pain 
 via! v. ui'ich as to refuse to accept of what I offered to 
 testify to my gratitude." 
 
 " I don't kitDw for that," said Jack. 
 
 "Excuse me," remarked Blueskin, "if I call you back 
 from speculating upon the future to our present situa- 
 tion." 
 
 " It is mil of perils." 
 
 " It is, indeed." 
 
 " What do you propose ? " 
 
 " lu the first place, that we get as far away as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 " But, how for Ross ? " 
 
 " You must leave me to manage him." 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 " I have not quite made up my mind." 
 
 " Have you any thoughts upon the matter ? ** 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Let us hear them." 
 
 " I should like for us to make our way as far as pos- 
 sible from Loudon, and find you a safe place of shelter." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And, when that was done, I should set out alone for 
 the spot where we buried the treasure, and dig up a por- 
 tion of it." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I should then proceed to keep my appoiutment with 
 Ross at Poet's-corner, having done which, I should get 
 the other ingots of silver converted into money." 
 
 " And all this time, you think of our being safely be- 
 stowed somewhere awaiting your return ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then, that will not do." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I cannot consent to it." 
 
 " But why not ? " _ 
 
 " Did you not say just now, that what puzzled yon most 
 was that Wild had some means of learning our motions 
 which we knew nothing about ? " 
 
 " I am afraid that is the case." 
 
 " Very well, then, that is an answer to your question." 
 
 " Explain yourself more fully." 
 
 " We shall be divided, shall we not ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And Jonathan will find it out. Then how much 
 easier it will be for him to overpower us when we are 
 apart. No, Blueskin. You may rely upon it, it will not 
 do. Our only chance is to keep close together. If \vc are 
 once parted, it will be all over with us." 
 
 "But, Jack." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Don't you consider that it would be trebling the risk 
 for all three to go to find the treasure ? " 
 
 " No, I don't." 
 
 " You don't consider it would ? " 
 
 " No, and even if I did, I should not think we ought 
 to separate ourselves for a moment." 
 
 " Well I will give in to you." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that." 
 
 "But I think we shall be running a very great risk, 
 ^ud yet I have a great horror of our pai-ting from each 
 other." 
 
 " So have I. United we may do much, but singly, very 
 little, or, I might say, nothing." 
 
 " Xoo are right there, and so let us consider the matter 
 so far settled. All that I have proposed to do must 1 o 
 doa«— the only difference being that you are to be with 
 me instead of my being alone." 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 "Then, my friends," remarked Blueskin, r we have 
 something else to consider." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " In a little while it will be dawn, so it behoves us to 
 look wit for a shelter of some sort." 
 
 " That is true." 
 
 " We have been coming at a good rate from the inn. 
 Have you any idea whereabouts we are, for I confess my- 
 self to be completely at fault in that respect."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 %7 
 
 "You have lost your bearings for some time, I know, 
 but I will soon tell you where we are exactly. I know to 
 a trifle already." 
 
 As be spoke, Blueskin raised himself in bis gtirruus, 
 and, as well as he could, looked about him. 
 
 " Where do you make us out to be ?" asked Jack, after 
 ho had finished his survey. 
 
 " Why, about a mile from the village of Isle worth . Do 
 you know it ? " 
 
 " I have heard of it, I think. It is somewb**ie f^ar 
 Kew, is it not ? " 
 
 " Yes. I fancy if we go there we shall stand as good a 
 chance of obtaining shelter during the day as anywbere, 
 and then at night, you know, we must set out upou our 
 V03 r age in quest of the buried treasure." 
 
 " Very well ; agreed." 
 
 " If we stop at some place not far from the banks of the 
 Tbames, we shall be able to go down all the way by boat, 
 which I think will go a long way towards enabling us to 
 elude Wild." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " We should easily be able to hire a wherry that would 
 answer our purpose." 
 
 " Ob ! no doubt. Do you think we had better push on, 
 in case Wild should be bebind us ? " 
 
 " No, I fancy we are far enough ; and, besides, we must 
 not go too far, because of our excursion." 
 
 " Very well ; I submit implicitly to your judgment in 
 that respect." 
 
 " I wonder what Wild will look like when be recovers 
 and finds wbat has taken place ? I would give no trifle to 
 be by and witness his rage." 
 
 " It would be awful." 
 
 " I trust Eoss will be wise enough to get out_ of the 
 way. If he does not it will go hard with him, for 
 Jonathan's never very particular about wbat he does." 
 
 " And especially when in such a passion as he would be 
 then." 
 
 " I can picture him easily — furious with rage, and im- 
 potently cursing every one that happens to be around 
 him." 
 
 " And be won't be any beUer tempered when he finds 
 we Lave taken his three best borses out of the stable." 
 
 " lie will be more exasperated against us than ever, but 
 I fancy he will have a good deal of trouble in tracing us to 
 our present whereabouts." 
 
 At this moment some more unequivocal symptoms of 
 the coming day made themselves apparent in the eastern 
 horizon. 
 
 The feeble gray light, however, enabled the three 
 fugitives to see not far in advance of them the chimneys 
 and roof-tops of a village, with its inevitable accompani- 
 ments, a church spire and a windmill. 
 
 In the distance, too, Eichmond Hill could be distin- 
 guished. 
 
 " Here we are," said Blueskin ; " another five minutes 
 and we shall enter the village." 
 
 " Do you think we shall find any one up so early as 
 this ? " 
 
 " I think so. There is a public-house where a coach 
 stops at, and I think we shall very likely be able to find 
 wbat we want there." 
 
 " But won't it be rather hazardous for us to go to a 
 public and much-resorted-to place like that ? " 
 
 " No half so much so as to take up our quarters ateome 
 out of the way inn." 
 " How do you make that out ? " 
 
 " Why, if we are only careful to keep out of sight, 
 Jonathan Wild, with all his cuuring, will never think of 
 looking for us here." 
 
 " I begin to understand you." 
 
 " He would think we should be afraid to stop there." 
 " Well, if you will believe me, I think it running a very 
 great risk indeed." 
 
 " Pho — pho. You will find that in this apparent 
 danger will lie our safety." 
 " I trust we shall find it so." 
 " Come, then, you will see I am right." 
 " Whereabouts is this inn ? " 
 
 " Why, about a couple of hundred yards further along 
 the road." 
 " Is that the sign that I can just see in the distance ? " 
 " No, that is another." 
 Blueskin was right. The sign which Jack saw belonged 
 
 to a public-house, which was, however, closed, and had 
 about it no signs of life whatever. 
 
 Going further, however, they came to the " Coach and 
 Horses," which was the sign of the inn of which Blueskin 
 had spoken. 
 
 This even was closed, but the gate at the side leading 
 to the stables was open, so, guided by Blueskin, they took 
 their way down it. 
 
 Tne clattering of their horses' hoofs attracted the atten- 
 tion of a man who emerged from the stables. 
 
 By his dress he appeared to be an ostler. 
 
 He looked at our friends with something like surprise 
 visible upon his countenance. 
 
 Doubtless it was seldom that visitors made their ap- 
 pearance so early at the inn. 
 
 Blueskin did not give bim time to speak, but addressed 
 him. 
 
 " Can we stay here for a few hours," he asked, " while 
 we give our cattle a rest ? We have travelled all night-, 
 and we are so fatigued that we feel disinclined to proceed 
 further." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; all right," replied the ostler. " There ain't 
 no one up yet just at present, though they won't be long. 
 However, I will call them and then attend to you." 
 
 So saying, the ostler hastened across the yard _ to the 
 back door of the inn, upon which he executed a vigorous 
 tattoo with his knuckles. 
 
 In the meantime, Blueskin and Jack Sheppard alighted 
 from their steeds and assisted Edgworth Bess to dis- 
 mount. 
 
 This the poor girl was glad enough to do, for she was 
 terribly fatigued. 
 
 The least exertion seemed to prostrate her, but this was 
 caused by the debility into which she had been thrown by 
 her severe and recent illness. 
 
 Nothing but the indomitability of Ler constitution could 
 have kept her up. If her spirits had once failed, her 
 bodily powers must have at once given way. 
 
 When she reached the ground she would have fallen 
 had it not been for the assistance which her two friends 
 afforded her. 
 
 The ostler's summons upon the back door was responded 
 to by some one opening it, and the landlord himself imme- 
 diately appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 He had witnessed the early arrival of the travellers 
 from his bed-room window. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCLVIII. 
 
 THE BURIED TREASURE IS RECOVERED, AND BLUESKIN 
 KEEPS HIS APPOINTMENT WITH ROSS, THE LANDLOHD. 
 
 A few words soon set matters all right. 
 
 A comfortable apartment and an attendant were pro- 
 vided for Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack Sheppard occupied a chamber 
 between them. 
 
 There was nothing particular or suspicious-looking 
 about the three travellers. 
 
 They seemed as though they had been on the road all 
 night, and were mud-stained in consequence, but that 
 was all. 
 
 The landlord, then, was quite willing to entertain them, 
 and Edgworth Bess had every attention paid to her. 
 
 The day was passed at the " Coach and Horses " with- 
 out the occurrence of any particular incident. 
 
 All three rested. 
 
 They neither heard nor saw anything of Jonathan Wild, 
 1 from which they concluded that he had wholly failed in 
 his attempt to get upon their track. 
 
 And certainly to do so would require something more 
 than an ordinary sagacity. 
 
 And yet Blueskin and Jack, knowing his energetic dis- 
 position, were all the time in dread, lest he should sud- 
 denly make his appearance. 
 
 It seemed as though they were destined to have much 
 trouble, and many a perilous adventure and Hair-breadth 
 escape before they succeeded in carrying out their inten- 
 tion of leaving England. 
 
 The obstacles which Wild would be able to put in the 
 way of their doing so would be most formidable. 
 
 Still they did not despair. 
 
 They were encouraged by the success which had hitherto 
 attended their efforts. 
 
 At length night came.
 
 S6S 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 During the day many arrivals and departures took place 
 tit the inn, but in the rooms which they had hired our 
 friends were unmolested. 
 
 And now one of the things they wished to tiToid waa 
 giving the landlord any clue to where they were going. 
 
 They did not want their horses. 
 
 In their present excursion they would have been quite 
 useless. 
 
 If they left them behind, ten to one if ever they came 
 for them again. 
 
 Circumstances might arise which would make a return 
 to Isleworth impossible. 
 
 They resolved not to return, but to lead the landlord to 
 suppose they would. 
 
 We shall understand best by their conversation. 
 It was just as dusk was deepening into night that the 
 three friends, who were altogether in one room, resolved 
 at once to set out upon their excursion. 
 
 Accordingly the landlord was summoned, and Blueskin 
 said — 
 
 " We are going out for a few hours. In the meantime 
 we will leave our three horses in your stable, which will be 
 ample security for whatever expense we have incurred." 
 
 " Shall you bo longer than the time you specify ? " 
 
 " Not without anything unforeseen happens, and then 
 perhaps we may." 
 
 " Very good, gentlemen," said the landlord, who saw 
 nol hing in this arrangement to grumble at. "Shall you 
 require any further refreshment before you start ? " 
 
 " No, we are ready now if you will lead the way." 
 
 The landlord did so, and the fugitives emerged into the 
 bigli-Btreet of the village. 
 
 By a circuitous route, for they did not want to be 
 watched to their destination, they proceeded to the banks 
 of the river. 
 
 They were some time before they found a place where 
 they could hire a boat. 
 
 At length, however, by the payment of a liberal sum, 
 they secured a light wherry, furnished with two oars, and 
 which would carry them comfortably. 
 
 It would require, too, in consequence of its lightness, 
 very little exertion to urge it through the water with con- 
 siderable speed. 
 
 It was just the thing they required. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was placed in the stern of the boat, and 
 her two protectors seated themselves in the back, each 
 one taking an oar. 
 
 The surface of the water waa covered with a deep 
 gloom, and as they shot out into the current, they could 
 only just discern the banks on either side of them. 
 
 They had a long pull before them, and over rather a 
 dangerous portion of the river bed, for the water was very 
 shallow in places. 
 
 There was plenty of time, however, so, using the utmost 
 circumspection, they rowed onwards. 
 
 After a time the stream grew broader and deeper, and 
 then they made better progress. 
 
 On their journey very little was said. 
 
 They were too intent upon what they were about. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had turned round iu the stem of the 
 boat, and was looking steadily behind her. 
 
 But they seemed to have the river almost to them- 
 selves. 
 
 It was an hour when none would be upon it from choice, 
 but merely from necessity. 
 
 In this way, then, they proceeded smoothly enough, 
 until they neared the spot where the treasure had been 
 deposited. 
 
 They were compelled to look keenly about them to 
 ascertain whereabouts to seek it, but the clump of trees 
 ffas a tolerably good guide. 
 
 They had only seen it once, and then not from the river 
 but the land, and, moreover, upon a very misty morning, 
 when objects were scarcely discernible. 
 
 At length Jack raised his arm, and, pointing to the 
 shore on his left, said — 
 
 " That is the spot, Blueskin, I am sure. Row towards 
 it." 
 
 " Yes, that is it, sm - e enough, but land carefully, I do 
 ^ot want us to be observed." 
 
 " You need not fear that, I think. The darkness in- 
 creases momentarily." 
 
 " It does. We had a moon last night, but I hope we 
 nhall not be troubled with her presence to-night." 
 
 " There are no clouds to hide her light, but I fancy aha 
 will not rise for some hours to come." 
 
 " So much the better, then." 
 
 " While speaking, the direction of the boat had beeu 
 changed, and presently the prow grated against the bank, 
 and the body swang round to the land. 
 
 Blueskin sprang out first, and moored the boat by a 
 rope which lay in the bottom of it to one of the trees con- 
 tiguous to the shore. 
 
 Then Jack followed him. 
 
 Edgworth Bess remained in the boat in order to keep 
 watch, and with strict injunctions to give the alarm the 
 moment she saw anything unusual. 
 
 The quicker they dug up what treasure they wanted, 
 the better it would be for them, for fear any one should 
 appear upon the spot. 
 
 Without any trouble they recognised the locality, and, 
 as the ingots were buried separately, and only a few inches 
 beneath the soil, they could dig them up with tolerable 
 celerity with the aid of their clasp knives. 
 
 It was while thus engaged that they determined to em- 
 brace the opportunity of removing the whole of the 
 treasure, and endeavouring to turn it into money. 
 
 Still, as may be supposed, although the time each ingot 
 took to be unburied, the task of raising them all was a 
 tedious one, iu consequence of their great number. 
 
 But, at length, they were all piled up into a heap. 
 
 The next thing, now, was to transfer them to the boat, 
 and care would have to be taken in loading that they did 
 not overbalance the boat. 
 
 All this, however, was done satisfactorily and safely, 
 and, such being the case, there is no need for us to dwell 
 upon it. 
 
 Regaining their places in the now heavily-freighted 
 boat, which, when it received the addition or their weight 
 sunk to an alarming depth iu the water, was unmoored, 
 aud Jack and Blueskin resumed the oars. 
 
 They had to row with very great care, for the gunwales 
 of the boat were at times all but under the water, aud any 
 sudden lurch from one side to the other would inevitably 
 capsize them. 
 
 But Blueskin knew their load would be much lighteued 
 as soon as they got to Westminster, so he steadily took his 
 course in that direction. 
 
 Nothing had been said as to the amouut which was to 
 be offered to Ross, but Blueskin did not trouble about 
 that. He knew his two companions would be disposed to 
 be quite as liberal as himself. 
 
 To reach the appointed spot the boat was stayed at a 
 place upon which a portion of the Houses of Parliament 
 now stands, and from which a walk of less thau two 
 minutes would take him to his destination. 
 
 Leaping from the boat ou to the shore, Blueskin 
 directed his two companions to remain in the boat while 
 he went upon his perilous errand. 
 
 " Now, Jack," he said, " give me as many of the iugota 
 as you think he ought to have for the service he has done 
 us." 
 
 " If I did that, I should give you more than you can 
 carry." 
 
 "I suppose so, but you must not do that. Give me as 
 many as will represent a respectable sum." 
 
 Jack did so, and when he had received six, Blueskin 
 cried hold, for he could not with convenience carry more. 
 
 As it was, he was heavily burdened, for the ingots were 
 a good weight each. 
 
 However, he staggered on, and in a few moments was 
 out of the sight and hearing of Jack Sheppard and Edg- 
 worth Bess, who could now do no more than patiently sit 
 in the boat and await his return. 
 
 When he first started, Blueskin found the quantity lie 
 had taken was quite as much as he could carry, but when 
 he had gone a little way, their weight appeared to increase, 
 and he was fain to rest himself iu the shelter of a build- 
 ing. 
 
 But encouraged by the knowledge that he had not far 
 to go, he bent again quickly to his task. 
 
 Iu less than two minutes he was at the appointed place, 
 and, so far as he could tell, he had reached it uuperceived 
 by a single soul. 
 
 Selecting the most remote and least frequented corner 
 in the building he could find, he deposited his burden in it. 
 
 Right glad to do so, he folded his arms aud leaned his 
 back against the wall.
 
 BIAJESIUN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 369 J 
 
 r , ^„.H wn, SE xs oux o. his «» nWn — ^ «*»J 
 
 [JONATHAH .,, th„„^«' h nniipnt waiting a 
 
 At length Blueskin's patient waiting and listening were 
 ^^^^^^^^^^■[l!^^ silent -*-55« *** ^ mUSlCal 
 
 TSSftiaS w» doomed to experience rather a -y^^S^t^er, than Bhieslan s ear 
 ^r^sadenses^cer^ P-«* *■ - ^ * * 
 
 Somehow, even at tbe pte^^ Tt is about the 
 such a scene of bus 1 e and ~n f us ion i ag0) 
 
 cjuietest place »» ^tondoHS comparatively a quiet 
 ,vhen Blueskm lived, .London W F rf WaBtminster 
 
 signal to be given. 
 
 It came almost lmmediatelj. eme rgedfrotn Ins 
 
 Without further hesitation, Blueskm b 
 
 { 
 
 STSSHiiM, London was «-*«*% a = . ™ . ^ Blue- 
 
 place, and tbe vicinity of tbe old abbej P „ Mr Blake "said a^a be ionging to Boss, 
 
 especially so. profoundly still, and skin had no di&culty in recogms g 
 
 At that hour of tb ^ mght it was pro . q the J 4be land i or d. 
 
 that hushed silence which is a J™ys Percq? ^fluence , « x am here." tf , 
 
 interior of sacred edifices seemed to extend j „ Tbauk g00( iaess for that* 
 beyond the walls. 
 
 No. 47.
 
 m 
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOMAKCE 
 
 "And I liave brought with me something, winch, 
 though not an adequate reward for the service you have 
 done us, is yet enough to go a long way towards compen- 
 sating you for the inconvenience you have BufFovcd, and 
 the danger you have incurred." 
 
 " I am much obliged to you, Mr. Blake, but, if you will 
 believe me, I did not look for any reward at your hands. 
 1 considered I was under an obligation to you." 
 
 " Well, if you was, I can only say that you have repaid 
 it a thousand-fold." 
 
 " I don't say but what it will be verjr acceptable, for I 
 am afraid I shall have to leave the inn iu consequence of 
 Jonathan Wild. I have heard that his rage was awful 
 when he awoke and discovered what had taken place, and 
 that he broke and destroyed everything he could l!jy his 
 bands upon." 
 
 " But your daughters escaped all violence, I hope." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; but, I suspect, only because they took care 
 to keep out of the way. However, Jonathan has sworn a 
 bitter oath that he will be the ruin of me, and, if I must 
 confess the truth, I feel rather uneasy in my mind about 
 it, because he is so celebrated for keeping his word." 
 
 " Pho — pho! defy him, Ross — defy him. Nevertheless, 
 hearing this makes me glad to be able to tell you that I 
 have got sufficient here for you to leave the inn and set up 
 in whatever part of the world you think fit until Jonathan 
 is hanged, and then you can come back to London again." 
 
 " When Jonathan is hanged ? " 
 
 « y es ." 
 
 "But' that's not likely." 
 
 "You think not?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " lie is a police-officer." 
 
 " That you will find will not exempt him from the pu- 
 nishment duo to his crimes. Jack Sheppard and nr^'self 
 have sworn to bring him to Tyburn, and mark my words 
 if we do not keep our oath." 
 
 " I sincerely hope you will, for if you do you will be 
 rendering society at large an inestimable service." 
 
 " Moreover, you must recollect that he is not properly a 
 police-officer, but that he has usurped that title and 
 office." 
 
 " I did not know that." 
 
 " It is not of much importance that I know of." 
 
 " But he has sworn to hang you." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 " And excuse me if I say that I think he is most likely 
 to keep his word." 
 
 " I know— I know. But we are wasting valuable time 
 in fruitless discourse. Come this way, and I will show 
 you where I have deposited our token of thanks for what 
 you have done for us." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin moved to lead the way to the 
 corner in which he had deposited the ingots of silver. 
 &■ But at that moment there came upon his ears the 
 trampling of horses' hoofs, and the murmuring of excited 
 voices. 
 
 Then a pistol-shot followed. 
 
 " Confound it ! " said Blueskin, in an undertone, "can 
 it be possible that Jonathan has dogged us hither ? or 
 has he discovered Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess 
 in the boat upon the river ? If so, I fear it is all over 
 with them." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD GOES HOME TO HIS HOUSE IN NEW- 
 GATE-STREET, AND MEETS WITH A SLIGHT SURPRISE. 
 
 To preserve the proper sequence of events we must leave 
 Blueskin and Ross, the landlord, in their somewhat peri- 
 lous situation near Poet's-corner, Westminster Abbey. 
 
 We must leave, too, for a little while, Jack Sheppard 
 and Edgworth Bess in that frail boat upon the Thames, 
 while we retrace our steps and chronicle the proceedings 
 of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Under the influence of the first gust of passion which 
 had come over him upon awaking to the discovery cf the 
 dupe he had been made, he had resolved to pursue the 
 fugitives without loss of time, and not to relinquish the 
 search until he had come up with them. 
 
 Bat after a little while when he came to a place where 
 several roads branched off in various directions, he 
 became conscious of the folly of such a determination, and 
 
 rnwjlingly was forced to" admit the conviction to his 
 i^'ind that he was too late upon the trail — that the scent 
 «i«d grown cold. 
 
 it was a matter of impossibility for any one to say which 
 of those diverging roads had been taken by the fugitives, 
 for they had left behind them no indications of their course 
 whatever. 
 
 To be sure, he might be so far favoured by chance or 
 fortune as to hit upon the right route by accident, but 
 that contingency was too remote for him to be able to cal- 
 culate with any amount of certainty upon it. 
 
 Under the present aspect of affairs his best and most 
 rational mode of proceeding would be to return to his 
 house in Newgate-street, and there await the reception of 
 some intelligence from the numberless spies he had posted 
 all over London and for miles around it. 
 
 Ere long, he felt certain, the fugitives must be seen by 
 some one of them. Perhaps at that very moment there 
 was one on their track, and if so, all would become easy 
 again. 
 
 But to exhaust himself and his horses and his men by a 
 pursuit where he had nothing to direct him, would be im- 
 politic in the extreme. 
 
 So he curbed his impatience and anger, which would 
 have been better appeased by scouring the country round, 
 and turning his horse's head towards London, bade his 
 men in a surly voice to follow him. 
 
 This they were nothing loath to do. 
 
 Their heads ached with the effects of the drug, nud 
 several of them reeled in such a manuer in the saddle 
 that they seemed every moment in danger of falling to the 
 ground. 
 
 Wild led the way homewards at a swift pace. 
 
 He was capable of much clear thought. 
 
 Violent and hot-tempered as he always was when the 
 least thing went wrong with him, he was now in a state of 
 absolute frenzy. 
 
 To think that ho had so nearly accomplished his desires 
 — that actually all his trouble had been rewarded — that 
 he had then been dolt enough to let them go, was madden- 
 ing in the extreme. 
 
 Over and over again he cursed himself for heeding the 
 storm ; had it rained fire, he ought to have made his way 
 direct to his own home. 
 
 In a state of mind that boded ill for any one who crossed 
 him iu the least — burning with inward passion — he 
 alighted at his own door. 
 
 The obsequious Touks was there, and, apparently, 
 awaiting his return. 
 
 He held the horse, and Jonathan, stamping savagely at 
 every step he took, crossed the pavement and went up the 
 flight of steps leading into the passage. 
 
 Tonks seemed to have something or other upon bis lips 
 which he wished to say, but the aspect of the thief-taker's 
 countenance dismayed him, and he was silent. 
 
 The news he had to communicate was not of the most 
 agreeable description, and he dreaded some personal ill- 
 usage if he spoke. 
 
 Quilt Arnold, who was in the lower part of the house, 
 now ascended to the ground-floor, for he had heard his 
 master return. 
 
 Like Touks, he seemed to want to say something, for 
 his visage expressed it. 
 
 Indeed, he opened his lips to speak, but he closed them 
 agaiu without emitting a sound. 
 
 He had caught a glimpse of the ferocious countenance 
 of the great thief-taker, and he knew in a moment that 
 something had occurred which had put him in a bad 
 temper. 
 
 So he judged- by that his most prudent course would bn 
 to say nothing. 
 
 Jonathan himself took no notice of him whatever, 
 except to glare malevolently at him as he passed. 
 
 Wild took his way direct to the stairs, which he ascended 
 slowly one after the other until he reached the first laud- 
 ing. 
 
 lie paused before the door opening into his sitting 
 apartment, aud where he generally betook himself when 
 he wished to be quiet. 
 
 He turned the handle and entered. 
 
 No sooner, however, was the door opeued than his nose 
 was assailed with a strong smell of tobacco smoke aud 
 hot spirits. 
 
 Indeed, the room was quite fillod with the former, a*'
 
 BLUESKIX: A ROMANCE. 
 
 871 
 
 the different objects in it could only be distinguished 
 through a kind of haze. 
 
 Before, however, be had time to do more thaajust 
 notice this, he heard a voice say — 
 
 "Hullo, old man. You are back again, are you ? Well, 
 cuss me if I didn't tbink you never meant coming back 
 any more. Don't gasp like tbat, you remind me of a 
 great porpus opening and sbutting bis mouth. It's all 
 rigbt, guv'ner. Only me, you know." 
 
 This was a most extraordinary speech for any one to 
 make to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Who could it have been daring enough to seat himself 
 in his sanctum, and then address him in such a manner as 
 60on as he came in ? 
 
 Jonathnn Wild knew. 
 
 The voice was familiar enough, to his sorrow. 
 
 But the expression of the thief-taker's countenance 
 when those words fell upon his ear, and when he recog- 
 nised the voice which uttered them, was really a picture 
 to see. 
 
 In the first shock of surprise he started back. 
 
 Then his countenance became livid with rage, and he 
 opened and shut his mouth in the convulsive manner 
 which had seemed to amuse the inmate of the room so 
 much. 
 
 It was only for a moment that Jonathan Wild allowed 
 surprise to retain the mastery of him.' 
 
 With a howl of rage he dashed into the room. 
 
 The smoke escaped in large quantities from the open 
 door, and then the person who showed so little regard for 
 the thief-taker became revealed. 
 
 By his attitude now it would seem that he had some 
 dread of Jonathan when in one of his mad passions. 
 
 He was standing with his back to the wall, and holding 
 before him, in an attitude of defence, the clumsy wooden 
 chair upon which he had been sitting. 
 
 He was a youngish-looking man, though it would have 
 been hard for any one to guess his age with precision. 
 Drink and debauchery had left their traces upon his 
 countenance, and made him look much older than he pro- 
 bably was. 
 
 He had a rakish, jaunty air, as though he was quite 
 reckless and careless, both of himself and any one else. 
 
 When Jonathan dashed in, he, with great coolness, held 
 up the chair in such a manner as to repel any attack 
 which might be made upon him, while he said — 
 
 " Now, old man, don't be a fool. Sit down quietly, 
 can't you? and don't behave in that wild animal sort of 
 way. I am going to have a little talk with you, just for 
 old acquaintance' sake; so sit down, I say, and don't be a 
 fool." 
 
 " Wretch ! " cried Jonathan, struggling with bis pas- 
 sion, and endeavouring to speak. " Wretch ! have I not 
 forbidden you to enter the house ? Begone, or I will call 
 my men, and they shall drive you out with their swords' 
 points!" 
 
 " Dont be a fool, guv'ner," said the young man, with 
 provoking coolness. " Don't be a fool, I tell you. Sit 
 down, and listen to reason." 
 
 This cool defiance of him, and this indifference to all he 
 did, had an effect upon Wild which would scarcely have 
 been expected. 
 
 He was overpowered, and sank down in a chair. 
 
 " That's right, old man — that's right. Now I'll join 
 you, and we'll make ourselves comfortable." 
 
 As he spoke, the young man put down his chair at the 
 corner of the table opposite to the one near which the 
 thief-taker sat, and slowly settled himself in it. 
 
 Then he stretched out his legs as though he was quite 
 at his ease, and as though he considered Jonathan Wild 
 the great the most insignificant creature in existence. 
 
 From bints which have been dropped from time to 
 time in this narrative, the reader doubtless conjectures 
 who this young man was. 
 
 He was Jonathan Wild's son. 
 
 A worthy son of so amiable and exemplary a parent. 
 
 Such another pair as they were could not have been 
 found if you had searched all London over. 
 
 But somehow Jonathan seemed to have a dread of his 
 ■on. 
 
 His coolness staggered him. 
 
 "Come, gov'ner," said this hopeful youth, "don't eit 
 there as though you were ashamed of yourself. Here, try 
 a drop of that." 
 
 Aa he spoke, he pushed across the table a glass par- 
 tially tilled with brand}'. 
 
 Wild took it, and swallowed the whole at one gulp. 
 . "Now, I should think you're better, old chap. You 
 seemed surprised to see me. Didn't expect to, I daresay. 
 Quite an uulooked-for pleasure. Here's your good luck." 
 
 " nave you come here to play the fool ? " growled 
 Wild. " Be like a man of sense. Curse you ! how could 
 you show your face ? " 
 
 " Now, don't use hard words, guv'ner ; please don't ! 
 Why shouldn't I show my face ? I know. You allude to 
 that little- affair that happened some time back ? " 
 
 " Little affair ! " repeated Wild, angrily. " You nearly 
 ruined me ! You carried off all the wealth I possessed." 
 
 " Sorry — sorry, of course ! But what does it matter 
 now ? You have got plenty of money again, so I have 
 come to see you. Ha ! ha ! I have had a jolly life ! 
 You'd never believ* how I made the money fly ! Egad ! 
 I astonished the folks. But it's all gone now, every rap ; 
 and I am completely bard up. That's what brings me 
 here to see .you, guv'ner." 
 
 Jonathan Wild was fast recovering his self-possession. 
 
 This unexpected meeting with his villainous son for a 
 time unnerved him. 
 
 The cool impudence of the fellow was rich in the 
 extreme. 
 
 It was quite clear he did not stand in that awe of the 
 thief-taker tbat most people did. 
 
 In the most nonchalant manner conceivable, he leaned 
 back in the chair, with his feet supported upon a stool, 
 with a glass of brandy in his fingers, which he every now 
 and then raised to his lips. 
 
 Jonathan looked at him with contempt. 
 
 Then, drawing from his coat-pocket a pistol, he very 
 deliberately cocked it, and, leaning his elbow on the table, 
 took a careful aim at his son. 
 
 But that worthy took no notice whatever of the menac- 
 ing action. 
 
 He scarcely troubled to look towards him, but allowed 
 the glass of brandy to occupy nearly the whole of his 
 attention. 
 
 " George," said Jonathan, in a voice of suppressed pas- 
 sion, " do you see this pistol ? " 
 
 " Of course I do, old man." 
 
 " Leave the room, then — this house, or I pull the trig- 
 ger and lodge a bullet in your head." 
 
 " Pho — pho ! guv'ner ; you won't do anything of tho 
 sort. Now, do be quiet for a little while, and listen to 
 reason." 
 
 " I have listened toe often to what you have had to say," 
 replied Jonathan, " as I have since found to my cost. How 
 you could be admitted passes my comprehension, but who- 
 ever allowed you entrance shall suffer dearly for it." 
 
 "Don't be a fool! Can't you hear? I keep asking 
 you not to be a fool, and instead of paying the least atten- 
 tion, you keep on talking the d— dest rubbish I ever 
 heard!" 
 
 Wild ground his teeth with rage. 
 
 "You will carry this pleasantry a little too far, my 
 spark, so I caution you in time." 
 
 " Have a drop more brandy. I have come here to say 
 something to you, and dam' me if I go away till I have said 
 it." 
 
 " Leave this house ! " said Wild, again, " or you will 
 suffer for it." 
 
 There was a baleful light in the thief-taker's eye as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Johnny," said his son, " I am very sorry we are not 
 good friends. I am sure we ought to be. I could assist 
 you, and you could assist me. I know I had the chance 
 once, but I was a young fool then. I'll tell you what it is, 
 guv'ner; if you will look over the past, I will, and we will 
 go into partnership with each other. What do you say ? " 
 
 Jonathan Wild laid his pistol down on the table. 
 
 Here was what he wanted. 
 
 His son had come back. 
 
 Not showing many signs of con triteness, but still, ho had 
 come back. 
 
 Never in all his life had Jonathan stood more in need of 
 such assistance as his son could render him than he did 
 at that moment. 
 
 Should he trust him again ? 
 
 That was the question revolving in his mind when ho 
 laid the pistol down upon the table.
 
 372 
 
 BLUESKIN : A. KOMANCE 
 
 It would be running a great risk to take this son of bis 
 into bis confidence, and yet be felt disposed to do so. 
 
 He might liave ebanged somewhat, and with iucreasii's ; 
 years obtained more sense. j 
 
 " George," said Wild to his sou, aud speaking 'in a 
 calmer tone of voice tban he had done hitherto, " you 
 might have been a son to me if you had so cbosen. But 
 instead of that, you treated uie like a treacherous foe " 
 
 " I know all about tbat, old mau." 
 
 " Aud so do I." 
 
 " What need is there to say anything about it ? " 
 
 " When you left me you carried off nearly all my wealth, 
 all tbat I bad accumulated daring many years. There 
 was not a guinea of that money which did not cost a drop 
 of blood. You took it, and you left me a penniless and a 
 ruined man." 
 
 " But you have made that all light again now, guv'ner. 
 It appears to me we are just the right sort to go into 
 partnership. You to get the money, and me to spend 
 it," 
 
 " Bab ! If you cannot speak in a more sensible manner 
 respecting business, begone ; 1 want you not. But if, on 
 the other hand, you feel disposed to aid me in the plans I 
 am carrying out, you will be able to have as much money 
 as you caii desire." 
 
 " That sounds well, governor. I'll aid you, don't be 
 afraid, for I do want money now uncommonly bad." 
 
 " But is it possible that you have in so short a time 
 squandered the whole of the large sum of money you 
 absconded with ? " 
 
 " I believe you. It's a long while ago, recollect, aud I 
 have seen a little bit of life since then, I can tell you." 
 
 " I hope the lesson, tbeu, has not been thrown away, 
 and tbat you have profited by it." 
 
 " Never mind that just now, governor. If you have 
 got some good things iu view, aud want some one to help 
 you to carry them out, wby, I mean to say you could not 
 find any one more suited to the job than George Wild ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CCXLIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD HAS A FEW WORDS WITH HIS SON, AND 
 COMES TO AN UNDERSTANDING WITH HIM. 
 
 Jonathan Wild bent upon bis son a searching glance as 
 ho uttered these words, in order to read bim, if possible, 
 to the soul, and ascertain how much reliance was to be 
 placed upon his words. 
 
 But the indifferent air assumed by the hopeful youth 
 made this an exceedingly difficult matter, even for the 
 astute Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " What guaranty could I have," he said, at length, 
 " that you would act fairly with me ? I feel very little 
 inclination to trust you without a security of some kind. 
 How do I kuow that you will not seize upon the first 
 opportunity you have to serve me the same trick you did 
 before." 
 
 " You must run the risk of tbat, guv'ner." 
 
 " Pho — pho. This foolery will do no good. Be serious 
 for a moment, and let us talk quietly together." 
 
 " Well, as you are growing reasonable, I don't mind. 
 Here, fill up your glass, and I will do the same. That's 
 it. Now I am ready to listen." 
 
 " Well, then, George, 1 have some plans on hand which, 
 if they can ouly be realized, would be sufficient to make 
 the fortunes of ten men." 
 
 "Have you really, guv'ner ?" said the son, becomiug 
 much interested in his parent's conversation. 
 
 " I have, but alone my task will be beset, with diffi- 
 culties and dangers. If, however, you understand, I 
 could find some one in whom I could place the most im- 
 plicit confidence, and who would act precisely as I should 
 myself, I should be spared all this, and the accomplishment 
 of my aims would be comparatively easy." 
 
 " Is that a fact, guv'ner ? " 
 
 " Fact ! " repeated Wild ; " of course it is." 
 
 "Then tip us your flipper, old man, and wo will make 
 a bargain of it. I am your man. Why, dam'me, "vhere 
 could you find a better ? " 
 
 " Do not think I am so anxious to make friends with 
 you, because I am not, and, under any other circumstances 
 thau the present, I should refuse to do so." 
 
 " Forget the past." 
 
 " I willingly would if I could be assured of your good 
 conduct in the future." 
 
 "Make you mind quilo easy about tbat. I am wiser 
 than I was, and I can see now that I shall do best by 
 rowing iu the same boat with you." 
 
 " You would find it so." 
 
 " I believe I should. I have bad my fling, and I shall 
 be steady enough for the rest of my life. Besides, I have 
 had enough of foreign countries. Give me London before 
 all the world. What do you say, guv'ner ? " 
 
 " There is no place like it to get on. But look here, 
 George." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " The result of one of my schemes, if things turn out 
 according to my wishes, will be that I shall retire from 
 business." 
 
 " Oh ! what business ? " 
 
 " The business I have so long carried on." 
 
 " Fencing ? " (i. e. receiving stolen goods). 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " But how's that ? " 
 
 " Well, for one thing, I am getting tired of it." 
 
 " I should think so, by this time." 
 
 " I am indeed." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I shall leave the place altogether. Now, George, you 
 have been here before to-day. Don't you think it would 
 be worth something to become my successor ? " 
 
 "Of course it would." 
 
 " Very well, then. I give you the chance." 
 
 "Will you make the business over to me ?" 
 
 " Yes, provided you give me your faithful services, and 
 aid me to the best of your ability in the prosecution of 
 every scheme." 
 
 " It's a bargain, guv'ner— it's a bargain." 
 
 " You consent ? " 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " And you will not betray me ?' 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " How far can I trust you ? " 
 
 " Wholly— entirely." 
 
 " I hope" I shall be able to do so, George. Ah ! it was a 
 thousand pities you went off in the way you did. You see 
 I can't help being distrustful of you. And if you bad only 
 kept by me all the time, who could say what we might not 
 have accomplished." 
 
 " Very true. But I consider you have done pretty well 
 as it is. 
 
 "I have." 
 
 " You admit that ? " 
 
 " Yes, but what have you done ? 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Except squander money." 
 
 " Ah ! just so. I can assure you I have done that, to 
 rights." 
 
 " Is it possible, George ? " asked Wild again, for the 
 thief-taker himself was very careful of his money, " is it 
 possible tbat you have spent all ? " 
 
 " All ! " 
 
 " Every fraction ? " 
 
 " Every fraction ; aud at this present moment I have 
 not the smallest coin in my pocket." 
 
 " You must reform," said the thief-taker, relapsing into 
 his usual gloom of mind. " I am afraid to trust you, even 
 now." 
 
 " Don't say tbat, guv'ner. You give me a trial, and if 
 I don't act fair and square, why, I give you leave to pistol 
 me upon the spot." 
 
 " Oh ! George, could I but feel convinced that I bad 
 some one I could trust as well as I could trust myself — 
 if I could only feel assured of that, I should not care." 
 
 " You easily might, guv'ner. " I don't mean to go on the 
 cross with you any more." 
 
 " You have shakeu my confidence." 
 
 " I know it." 
 
 " And confidence once s'aaken " 
 
 " I know what you meau, old man. Lor' bless you, I 
 haven't scattered your cash without having something 
 taught me in return." 
 
 " I suppose not," said Jonathan, bitterly. 
 
 " Don't take on." 
 
 " Curses ! " 
 
 "The money is gone. You have made more, aud, by 
 what you say, you are about to add considerably to the 
 amount ; so what have you to grumble about ? " 
 
 " Leave that point, George, and listen to me."
 
 " T am all attention, guv'ner." 
 
 " You must understand, tbeu, that I jare two main 
 objects wliicli influence my conduct." 
 
 George nodded. 
 
 "I mean there are two objects which. I hare set »ny 
 mind upon attaiuinsr." 
 
 " What are they ? " 
 
 " For one, wealth and rank." 
 
 "Wealth and rank?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " But that's two." 
 
 " I only count it one." 
 
 " Very well, guv'ner, you won't catch me finding fault 
 with your arithmetic. Cut along." 
 
 " I shall grasp wealth and rank at once." 
 
 " Rank ! Do you mean title." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " The devil ! But how are you to get that ? " 
 
 " Never miud ; that's my business." 
 
 " Very well, guv'ner." 
 
 " In gaining this one object you will not be of much 
 assistance to me, except by devoting yourself to the busi- 
 ness here while I am occupied with it." 
 
 " That will suit me very well." 
 
 " Can I trust you ? " 
 
 "Now, it's no good your asking that, and it's less good 
 for me to keep replying to it. All I can Bay is, try me." 
 
 " I have resolved to do so. To give you this one chance 
 of redeeming yourself." 
 
 " That's all I require, guv'ner. From this time forward 
 you will find me everything that you could wish." 
 
 " I trust I shall. You could never know how much I 
 have yearned for you to come back and be a son to me, or 
 indeed for any one that I could trust. But all have 
 deserted me and turned enemies to me, and I am quite 
 alone." 
 
 " Are you, guv'ner ? It's enough to draw tears from a 
 workhouse official to hear you, that it is." 
 
 " Pshaw ! You are too fond of folly." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, guv'ner. Well, now that we have dis- 
 posed of one of your motives, which I count two, and in 
 which it seems I am not to reader you any assistance, let 
 us hear the other." 
 
 " That you can aid me in." 
 
 " What is it." 
 
 "Revenge! " 
 
 " Oh ! how vicious you speak, guv'ner." 
 
 " Revenge ! that is my grand motive. I must be 
 revenged." 
 
 " But on who, guv'ner ? " 
 
 " Those who have made it the business of their lives to 
 interpose themselves between me and the prosecution of 
 my plans." 
 
 " Who are they ? " 
 
 "You shall hear presently." 
 
 " I am quite impatient, guv'ner. I should think they 
 were rather daring chaps to set themselves up against 
 you, eh. ? " 
 
 " They are fools. George ? " 
 
 " Yes, guv'ner ? " 
 
 " I have sworn that they shall die at Tyburn." 
 
 "A jolly good way of getting rid of them, I should 
 think." 
 
 " They shall swing." 
 
 " Oh ! then you mean to try the old game, eh ? " 
 
 " What old game ? " 
 
 " Why, you know well enough." 
 
 " But do you ? " 
 
 " Of course I do." 
 
 •' What is it ? " 
 
 " Give false evidence against them before the beaks, 
 and have them cast for death — then scragged at Tyburn." 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " It's a good plan." 
 
 " I have ever found it answer except with these." 
 
 " How is it it don't answer with them, guv'ner P " 
 
 "I cannot tell. At various times I have had them in 
 my custody — one has already been tried and sentence 
 passed upon him, but I believe they have the devil to aid 
 them, for they always make their escape." 
 
 " Make their escape ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I should think that is very easily provided against, 
 guv'ner." 
 
 " It is not. I have adopted all the precautions 1 could 
 think of." 
 
 " And did they fail ? " 
 
 " Utterly." 
 
 " I can't make that out, guv'ner." 
 
 " Nor more can I." 
 
 " But I suppose all these little failures only serve to 
 make you still more resolved to have your revenge ? " 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 " Well, guv'ner, show me how I can help you, and 1 
 am ready to do the best I can." 
 
 "That is enough. You shall kuow more in good 
 time." 
 
 " But, guv'ner." 
 
 " What P " 
 
 " Just tell me one thing." 
 
 " How many people are included in your revenge ? " 
 
 "Two." 
 
 "Only two?" 
 
 "That's all." 
 
 " Well, guv'ner, I wonder at you. Mind you, I don't 
 think half so much of you as I did once." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "To allow yourself to be troubled with two people. 
 Why, they could be got rid of easy enough." 
 
 " You had better try it on." 
 
 " I am quite ready." 
 
 " But one of them, let me tell you, has been twice con- 
 fined in the strongest cell in Newgate, and so loaded with 
 fetters that he could hardly move. Yet, on both those 
 occasions, he made his escape." 
 
 " Yes, and in defiance of all the precautions taken, and 
 the watch which was kept upon him." 
 
 " You surprise me, guv'ner." 
 
 " They are two men of no common kind, or they would 
 not have stood so long against me as they have." 
 
 " I suppose not." 
 
 " Curse them. Even this night, which has but just 
 passed away, I had them securely in my grasp, but they 
 eluded me." 
 
 " How, guv'ner ? " 
 
 "Never mind how. Suffice it they did." 
 
 "And got clear off? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Leaving no clue behind ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " They must bo very clever fellows, guv'ner." 
 
 "They are clever. If they were only on my side in- 
 stead of being opposed to it, they would be allies well 
 worth having." 
 
 " I daresay it would make a difference to you, guv'ner. 
 But you have not yet told me who they are." 
 
 " I know I have not." 
 
 " But why don't you ? " 
 
 " How can I tell how far you may be trusted ? " 
 
 " Are you going to bring that up again ? " 
 
 " I have had no proofs of your sincerity and trustworthi- 
 ness as yet." 
 
 " I know you haven't." 
 
 " But I have of your treachery." 
 
 " Now, guv'ner, look here." 
 
 "What?"; 
 
 " I am going to make a bargain with you, and I do 
 hope you will keep it." 
 
 " What bargain?" 
 
 " Why, never to rake up old sores. Do you hear ? " 
 
 Wild nodded. 
 
 " I have been a d — d fool, I know," continued his son. 
 " I took your money and made off with it when I ought to 
 have stopped with you, but, tbeu, I knew no better. 
 However, that is all past and done for, aud it won't happer. 
 again. So, guv'ner, just please to let the subject drop, 
 aud Jon't refer to it any more, because it can't do any 
 good." 
 
 " Well, I won't, George. I should be only too glad to 
 forget the past. So we will let that rest, and put it 
 down to one of the follies of youth, eh ? " 
 
 " Just as you like, guv'ner." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " Have you made up your mind to trust me ? " 
 
 Wild hesitated. 
 
 His son perceived it, so he said— 
 
 " Now, old man, just listen to me, and be good enough 
 to condescend to take a few words of advice from me."
 
 374 
 
 BLUESKTN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " If you are going to make a confidant of me, don t «so 
 it by halves. Tell me all or none." 
 
 Wild glared fiercely at the speaker. 
 
 " Tell you all ? " he said. 
 
 " Why not, guv'ner P " 
 
 " You know not what you ask ? " 
 
 " Yes I do, old man. I give you my word to identify 
 myself with your interests— to do everything fos you 
 just the same as you would do it yourself. Now, os I 
 undertake to do that, it must stand to sense that for me 
 to be any service to you, I must know all ; you must tell 
 me all your plans— in fact, everything. Then, when we 
 are leagued together like that, what is there that we could 
 not accomplish ? " 
 
 CHAPTER CCL. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD RECEIVES UNEXPECTED INTELLIGENCE 
 OF THE FUGITIVES, AND SETS OUT ON HIS SECOND 
 CRUSADE AGAINST THEM. 
 
 Jonathan Wild pvit his elbows on the table, and resting 
 his chin in the palms of his hands, looked stedfastly in the 
 face of his son. 
 
 But that exemplary individual bore the scrutiny without 
 changing countenance iu the least. 
 
 It is possible that he was quite sincere in all his pro- 
 testations. 
 
 " We could accomplish anything under such favourable 
 circuumstauces as those you mention," said Jonathan, 
 after a pause. 
 
 " That is what I say, too." 
 
 " But cannot you see what risk I run iu taking you so 
 much into my confidence?" 
 
 " I daresay there does seem a risk." 
 
 " Then do not wonder that I hesitate." 
 
 " You arc a cautious old file, guv'ner." 
 
 " I have every need of caution." 
 
 "But come, what do you say? You had better make 
 good terms with me while I am in the humour to serve 
 you." 
 
 " George, you can't mince the matter. You don't come 
 to me first, as you might have come. I have cause to 
 suspect you, and therefore you ought not to wouder at me 
 if I hesitate to take you fully into my confidence. But I 
 will tell you what I will do, and I consider it a very fair 
 arrangement." 
 
 " Let us hear it, guv'ner." 
 
 " You shall remain with me a little while, making your- 
 self as useful as you can. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes ; go on." 
 
 " By your behaviour and general comportment I shall 
 be able to judge you. I shall, indeed, use it as my sole 
 guide. If you go on square, and show yourself worthy to 
 be trusted, then I shall be very glad to trust you." 
 
 " Those are fairish terms, guv'ner, and I consent to 
 them." 
 
 " You do ? " 
 
 " I do, and I only hope you will stick to your part of 
 the bargain as well as I shall stick to mine." 
 
 " You may depend I shall stick to my part, George, 
 because it would so much advantage me if I could have 
 some one I could trust. It is what I have wanted all 
 along, in order to bring my schemes to a successful 
 issue." 
 
 "Well don't grumble guv'ner, for you have now got to 
 your hand just what you require. If, however, yen mean 
 to try me first, I have no objection in the world, bat mark 
 my words if you don't find me everything you could 
 wish." 
 
 " I don't like those who profess too much," «aid Wild, 
 significantly. 
 
 " Nor I, guv'ner. Therefore I say, try." 
 
 " I will." 
 
 " Give us your hand on that bargain, guv'ner, and we'll 
 have another dram together." 
 
 Jonathan held out his hand, which his son took with 
 every appearance of sincerity. 
 
 Their glasses were then filled and emptied. 
 
 Wild, junior, spoke again. 
 
 " Now, guv'ner, as all is so satisfactorily arranged, just 
 tall me what I have got to do next." 
 
 " Nothing particular. In the daytime when I am 
 
 absent I shall want you to go into the office and do the 
 business there instead of me." 
 
 " That's all right, then, for you know very well I under- 
 stand all about that." 
 
 " You have transacted it before." 
 
 " And dene it well, too, I flatter myself." 
 
 " Well, then, that will be the chief of your business." 
 
 " Very good, then. I have something to say." 
 
 " Say on." 
 
 " If I take the office business entirely off your hands, 
 and transact the business perfectly to your satisfaction, 
 shall you be satisfied ? " 
 
 " Perfectly satisfied." 
 
 "If I do nothing else?" 
 
 " Yes, if you do nothing else." 
 
 " Then, guv'ner, I undertake it, and in return, to show 
 you I know how to be grateful, I'll tell you what I'll do 
 for you in addition." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " If you will tell me the names of the two persons who 
 have been such a trouble to you, and who you want to be 
 revenged upon, I'll be after them like a bloodhound, aud 
 what's more, I'll have them, or I'll know no rest till I 
 do." 
 
 Jonathan looked at the speaker with gleaming eyes. 
 
 " Do that," he said, "and then you will indeed prove 
 yourself to be my son. Do that, and what has happened 
 in the past shall never enter my mind again." 
 
 " I will do it, guv'ner." 
 
 " There is nothing which would give me so much 
 pleasure as that." 
 
 " I am glad my offer has pleased you." 
 
 " It has pleased me more than any other which you 
 could have made." 
 
 " Bravo, guv'ner. You will fiud it no idle boast. 
 Come, who are they ? " 
 
 " These two people ? " 
 
 "Yes, these enemies of yours you would so like to see 
 at Tyburn." 
 
 " I shall see them there, sooner or later, do not doubt 
 that." 
 
 " You will, I'll promise that, and before you are many 
 days older." 
 
 Jonathan looked at his son with admiration. 
 
 He fancied he could detect some of his own nature in 
 him. 
 
 Aud so there was. 
 
 He inherited all the bad qualities of his father, without 
 any of the good ones. 
 
 It may be asked, what good qualities did Jonathan Wild 
 possess ? 
 
 Not many, certainly, but at any rate, he was better than 
 his son. 
 
 That worthy was vindictive aud cruel to a degi - ee. 
 
 Nothing would have pleased him more thau to hunt 
 down some one for the mere fun of the thing. 
 
 But when he had got some great end to gain ho could 
 devote himself to it heart and soul, and with an energy 
 untiring and almost superhuman. 
 
 Tremble, Jack. Tremble, Blueskin. Not only for your 
 own sakes, but also for the sake of the young girl of whom 
 you are the sole protectors and defenders, for an enemy 
 more deadly, more unscrupulous, aud more terrible than 
 Jonathan Wild himself is about to be let loose upon your 
 track ! 
 
 Hitherto it has been a hard, hard struggle to preserve 
 life and liberty so far, but now that the thief-taker has 
 received so powerful an adjunct, we cannot but fear the 
 worst. 
 
 We must not, however, forcstal the proper current of 
 events, but patiently reveal, with all succinctness possible, 
 the strange incidents which occurred. 
 
 Where could they look for such an accession of strength 
 to their cause ? Where could they hope to fiud so power- 
 ful au ally as Jonathan Wild had found in the person of 
 his son ? 
 
 " Who are they?" asked this hopeful individual again. 
 " Give me some particulars about them, and a full 
 description. Rely upon it they will not trouble you much 
 longer." 
 
 Jouathan shook his head. 
 
 "You think too lightly of this affair," he said, "by far 
 too lightly. You must not delude yourself with the idea 
 that the accomplishment of their capture is the easiest
 
 BLTJESKIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 375 
 
 matter imaginable. If you fill yourself up with sish a 
 notion, you are doomed to certain disappointment." 
 
 " Who are they, then ? " 
 
 " Men of no common kind, or all my previous effisTO! 
 would not have been unavailing. Do you think I lack 
 experience in these matters ? With this solitary exception, 
 have I ever had any difficulty in achieving my desires ? " 
 
 " I don't know that ever you have had much trouble, 
 guv'ner." 
 
 "Very well, then, what does it argue when ac! my 
 efforts against these have been unavailing ? Does it not 
 argue that there is something peculiar connected with 
 them which there never has been with the others ? so 
 don't make the mistake of thinking you are going to do 
 easily what I have failed to do." 
 
 " I'll have a try, guv'ner, and if I do succeed 1 shall 
 make you hide your head for shame. But come, it is 
 quite time you told me something about them. Who are 
 they ? " 
 
 "One, at any rate," replied Wild, "is well known to 
 you." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " He was formerly in my service, and I trusted him 
 with everything." 
 
 " Now he has turned against you." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " That's infernally awkward, guv'ner." 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " Does he know much ? " 
 
 " By far too much for it to be safe for him to live my 
 enemy." 
 
 "I see. But who is he?" 
 
 " He used to be second to myself, and have charge of 
 all affairs when I happened to be out of the way." 
 
 " What, Blueskin ? " 
 
 " You recollect him, then." 
 
 " Is that him ? " 
 
 "Yes/' 
 
 Wild junior tlirust his hands into his trousers pockets, 
 and gave a low whistle. 
 
 " Guv'ner." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " After trusting Blueskin with all your secrets in the 
 way you did, you ought to have kept in with him." 
 
 "But, how if I couldn't?" 
 
 "Why, of course, if you couldn't you couldn't." 
 
 "Then I couldn't. I know what policy is as well as 
 most people." 
 
 " I daresay you do, guv'ner, but it makes things very 
 awkward that does, and, besides, I know what Blueskin 
 is before to-day. He is all very well for a friend, but a 
 devil for an enemy." 
 
 " You are right. Well that is one of the foes I have 
 to contend with, and whose destruction I have sworn to 
 accomplish." 
 
 " Well, one comfort you have told me the worst first." 
 
 " Don't you make too sure of that." 
 
 " The other couldn't be worse than Blueskin, let him 
 be whom he will." 
 
 " Wait till you know." 
 
 "Who is he?" 
 
 " His name will not be familiar to you. I don't suppose 
 you have ever heard it before." 
 
 " Let us hear it behind, then." 
 
 "Jack Sheppard." 
 
 " Is that his name ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " What of him ? " 
 
 " He is the most daring aud desperate fellow that ever 
 existed. He has been twice confined in Newgate, and has 
 twice broken out." 
 
 "You have got two desperate chaps to deal w*tb, I 
 see." 
 
 " I have. I tell you, all that I have tried agairitt them 
 has utterly failed." 
 
 " I will try what I can do, guv'ner. You won't <*»unt 
 me. See if I don't prove a match for them." 
 
 " When once those two fellows are out of the way, all 
 the rest that I have to do will be done readily enough, 
 but, while they remain, I shall have no end of difficulty 
 in my path." 
 
 " They must be removed, then, if that is the case." 
 
 " I must also tell you, George, that they have with 
 tfleni a young girl." 
 
 " A 3 - oung girl ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What about her ? " 
 
 " It is virtually essential to my plans that I should get 
 possession of her." 
 
 " And they refuse ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Does the girl refuse ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Guv'ner, you are playing some deep, artful game, but 
 1 shall find it all out." 
 
 " You shall know all in good time." 
 
 " And what is this girl ? " 
 
 " That doesn't matter. She is with Jack Sheppard and 
 Blueskin." 
 
 " Yes. What's her name ? " 
 
 " Her name ? " 
 
 ■ Yes." 
 
 " Her name is — is — Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " Oh ! Edgworth Bess, is it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "That's a rummy name, guv'ner. What do you want 
 the girl for ? " 
 
 " Never mind at present." 
 
 "Oh! very well. Now, then, when do you think of 
 setting off in pursuit of theso three. Have you any idea 
 where they are ? " 
 
 "At this present moment I have no idea whatever 
 whei - e they are." 
 
 " How's that ? " 
 
 " But in a little while I expect to receive some intelli- 
 gence." 
 
 " Prom whom ? " 
 
 " I have spies in all parts of London, and as soon as the 
 three are seen by any one of them, I shall be at once 
 communicated with." 
 
 " Oh ! that's it." 
 
 " Then, when I know with certainty where they are, 
 
 At this moment there came a faint tapping at the door 
 of the room. 
 
 " Come in ! " roared Wild. 
 
 Wilkinson entered. 
 
 " If you please, sir "— — 
 
 " What, villain ? " 
 
 "A man has brought this for you." 
 
 Jonathan held out his hnud. 
 
 Wilkinson put into it a dirty piece of card. 
 
 It seemed by its appearance to be an ordinary playing 
 card. 
 
 And such, indeed, it was. 
 
 It was one out of a pack, and on its centre was painted 
 a diamond. 
 
 It was the ace of diamonds. 
 
 Jonathan understood the sign. 
 I It was that which was given by any one of his spies. 
 
 It signified that one had called, and that he had intelli- 
 gence to communicate. 
 
 " Is the man downstairs who brought this, Wilkin- 
 son?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Then go and fetch him up here to me." 
 
 As soon as the door was closed, Wild junior said— 
 
 "What does all that mean, guv'ner ? ' 
 
 " It means that I shall shortly learn something of the 
 three persons I was speaking about." 
 
 " So much the better," said George, rubbing his hands 
 together. 
 
 " He is one of the spies I have posted about, or a mes- 
 senger from one of them, and we shall learn whereabouts 
 they are, no doubt." 
 
 Again came the tapping at the door. 
 
 In answer to Wild's command to enter, Wilkinson 
 came in, ushering in rather a rough-looking specimen of 
 humanity. 
 
 He touched his forehead in a respectful manner to 
 Wild, and waited to be spoken to. 
 
 Jcvathan made a sign for Wilkinson to leave the room. 
 
 Ol course the janizary vanished instantly. 
 
 " Now," said the thief-taker, turning to the man, " you 
 have brought this card, have you not ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." ., 
 
 " Then just tell your news in as few words as possible. -
 
 576 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLI. 
 
 FORTUNE SEEMS RESOLVED TO BEFRIEND JONATHAN 
 WILD. 
 
 The man, who was not a messenger, but actually one of 
 Wild's spies, twirled his hat round in his hand while he 
 considered into how small a compass he could put his in- 
 formation. 
 
 " I have found Ross, the landlord of the public-house, v 
 he said. 
 
 "Have you?" cried Jonathan, "then he shall pay 
 dearly enough for the way in which he has acted. VThere 
 is he?" 
 
 "He was walking along the Whitechapel-road, Mr. 
 Wild." 
 
 " Well, go on." 
 
 " So I followed him, Mr. Wild, and never once lost 
 sight of him." 
 
 " Which way did he take ? " 
 
 " He went westward, and as I expected every minute to 
 house him, I kept at his heels." 
 
 "What next?" 
 
 " I followed him, Mr. Wild, till he got to Westminster 
 Abbey." 
 
 " To Westminster Abbey ? " 
 
 " Yes, he walked straight on up to Poet's-corner, as 
 though he was going to enter the abbey, but I knew he 
 could not do that, as it was so late, and the place all locked 
 up." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "He went up the narrow turning leading to Poet's- 
 corner, as I told you, and I waited for him to come out 
 again." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But he didn't seem to come, so I thought, perhaps, 
 he had got an appointment with some one, and was wait- 
 ing for him to come." 
 
 " Very likely. What then ? " 
 
 " I saw Govus, and told him to take my place watching 
 while I came here to you." 
 
 " And that is all you have to communicate ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." _ 
 
 " Then, here's a guinea for you, and go downstairs and 
 tell Quilt Arnold to have a troop ready at the door in- 
 stantly and a couple of spare horses." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild," replied the man, as he withdrew to 
 execute this order. 
 
 " What do you make of this news ? " inquired his son. 
 "Who is Ross*?" 
 
 "He is the landlord of a public-bouse, and it was 
 through his instrumentality that Blueskin and Jack 
 Sheppard made their last escape." 
 
 " I see. Then you think it likely, by keeping in view 
 of Ross, you will come in sight of the others." 
 
 ; * Nothing more probable. You see they would bribe 
 tnis Ross to aid them, and I daresay this appointment at 
 Westminster Abbey is for the very purpose of giving him 
 the reward." 
 
 The reader knows Jonathan was not very far from the 
 real truth in this supposition, but it was a supposition 
 merely. 
 
 Still it serves to show what talent he had in forming an 
 idea of what people were likely to do under certain cir- 
 cumstances, and in this lay no small portion of his 
 success. 
 
 " If that is the case, then, guv'ner, we ought to be off 
 like lightning, or they will transact their little business, 
 and be off." 
 
 "They will." 
 
 " I should like to catch them all at one swoop." 
 
 " So should I. Arm yourself, and then we will go 
 down." 
 
 A few moments were spent, both by Wild and his son, 
 in looking to their weapons, after which, they went down- 
 stairs. 
 
 They found the troop already at the door, but not ouite 
 in readiness to start. 
 
 But it was wonderful to see with what expedition things 
 were done in Wild's household. 
 
 A stranger would have declared it impossible for men 
 and horses to bo ready upon so short a notice— and yet 
 there they were. 
 
 Jonathan Wild descended the steps in front of his domi« 
 eil, followed by his son. 
 
 The janizaries, to many of whom George was known, as 
 well as the circumstances connected with his life, looked 
 on with surprise when they saw them apparently on such 
 good terms with each other. 
 
 And here we ought to state that, upon the arrival of 
 George Wild, which took place a few hours before Jona- 
 than's return, Tonks, who was on the lock, refused to 
 allow him admittance. 
 
 But the behaviour of Wild junior was so outrageous, 
 that in the end they were obliged to allow him to come in, 
 when he took possession of Jonathan's private room in the 
 manner we have described. 
 
 When Wild retnrned, Tonks wished to inform him of 
 what had taken place, but the aspect of the thief-taker's 
 countenance was so terrible that it quite frightened him, 
 and he resolved not to say a %vord, for fear any unpleasant 
 consequences should fall upon his own head. 
 
 Quilt Arnold, too — when Wild passed him in the pas- 
 sage — opened his mouth to communicate the same intelli- 
 gence, but he closed it without uttering a sound. 
 
 And so Jonathan had the full benefit of the little sur- 
 prise that was in store for him. 
 
 A storm was fully expected, but it seemed to have 
 entirely blown over. 
 
 But the bull-dogs, as Wild called them, knew better 
 than to take anything more than a passing notice of this 
 circumstance. 
 
 Jonathan mounted the horse which had been provided 
 for him. 
 
 George Wild got on to another. 
 
 By this time the remainder of the troop were in readi- 
 ness. 
 
 Wild turned round and looked att hem, then inquired 
 whether all was ready ? 
 
 He was replied to in the affirmative. 
 
 " Forward, then ! " he cried. " Make all speed — follow 
 me." 
 
 So saying, he plunged his spurs into his horse's sides, 
 and set off at a furious gallop after our three friends, who 
 are now menaced by perils of a terrible description, and 
 worse than all, they were in ignorance of what was im- 
 pending over them. 
 
 They would have no time to prepare. 
 
 At the rate they went, it did not take Jonathan Wild 
 and his band very long to reach their destination. 
 
 But ere they got to the old abbey, a man darted out 
 from the shadow of the houses, and stood in the middle 
 of the road. 
 
 He held up his arms, and called in a loud tone of vcico 
 to them to halt. 
 
 Jonathan pulled up, and the remainder of the troop 
 came to a standstill. 
 
 " Mr. Wild," said the man who had thus arrested the 
 progress of the cavalcade ; " is that you, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " Yes," growled Jonathan. 
 
 " Have you had news from Kenrick ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then I have more." 
 
 " Come here then at once, close to my horse, and tell 
 me quietly." 
 
 The man approached. 
 
 " I am Govus," he said. 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I was left at Poet's-corner, by Kenrick, to watch for 
 Ross, the landlord, while he camo to you." 
 
 " Why have you left your post ? " 
 
 " I put Tomlins there." 
 
 " All right." 
 
 " I have important news." 
 
 " Tell it quickly, then." 
 
 "While I was waiting for Ross to come out, and pre- 
 pared to follow him, I heard footsteps approaching, so I 
 drew back and watched. 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " A man approached, who appeared to be very heavily 
 laden with something. He staggered and could hardly 
 support the weight. Noiselessly I crept to him. I knew 
 who it was." 
 
 " Who ? " 
 
 "Blueskin." 
 
 '* Good. Is he there now ? ' 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " We must be off, then." 
 
 "Stop a moment, Mr. Wild ; he is quite safe} audi
 
 BtUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 3771 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS HAVE A NARROW ESCAPE FROM JONATHAN WILD."l 
 
 have something more to tell you which I am sure you will 
 be pleased to hear." 
 
 " Be quick, then." 
 
 " I will, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Now, then." 
 
 "When I saw Blueskin, I thought to myself, Jack 
 Sheppard is somewhere close at hand." 
 
 " What did you do ? " 
 
 " I summoned Tomlins, and left him to keep watch 
 where I was, and then I looked all about me." 
 
 " Go on. Why do you keep pausing ? " 
 
 " In order that I should tell you all straightforwardly 
 and properly." 
 
 " Make haste, then." 
 
 " I soarched all about, until at length I came to the 
 river-side, and there I found a small boat waiting. I 
 looked more carefully, and saw that in that boat were two 
 persons. I crept closer, and heard them talking. One 
 called the other Jack, and he called hia companion, who 
 woa a female, Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " Death and the devil ! " cried Wild. " We shall have 
 them all." 
 
 " Easy does it, old 'un," cried his son. " Don't be pre- 
 cipitate, or you will spoil all." 
 
 Then, turning to the man who had given him such im- 
 portant information, he said — 
 
 " Just let us understand this business thoroughly before 
 we go any further." 
 
 " What is there you don't understand, sir ? '" 
 
 " Nothing that I know of, but that is just the point I 
 want to ascertain, because, if we set about what we have 
 to do while labouring under a false impression, we shall 
 have all our trouble for nothing, and, it appears to me, 
 we shall never have a better chance of accomplishing our 
 purpose than we have now." 
 
 From this speech it will be seen that Jonathan Wild's 
 son had all his wits about him, and, however much he 
 might be disposed to trifle, yet, when the hour of action 
 came, he was cool, and took into calculation all possible 
 contingencies. 
 
 ■K^RBMCQMH* 
 
 No. 48
 
 ffl 
 
 BLtfESKIK; A ROMANCE. 
 
 To start upon ttieir errand with any misapprehension 
 of the information they had received would be to ruin 
 all. . , 
 
 Therefore, George Wild determined not to go an inch 
 further until all was straightforward and clear in his 
 mind. . 
 
 The man prepared to reply to his questions, and George 
 interrogated him as follows, Jonathan, of course, paying 
 the utmost attention, and quite delighted with the maaner 
 in which his son was setting about that business Wiiijh 
 hitherto he, with all his cunning and finesse, had notbven 
 able to accomplish. 
 
 " You say Ross was watched into Poet's-corner b.t one 
 of your companions ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And he called you and told you so, giving you instruc- 
 tions to take his place, and keep careful watch, while he 
 went to apprize Mr. Wild of what had occurred ? " 
 
 " That's it, sir." 
 
 " Well, then, you say that while you were watching and 
 keeping guard you heard some one approaching ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And you recognised that person as Blueskin P " 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " And he took the same route as Ross had done P " 
 
 " Just the same, sir ; that is, up the dark narrow kind 
 of passage between the walls of the Abbey, which leads 
 to the door opening into Poet's-corner." 
 
 " Just so ; that part of your information is very precise 
 indeed. We will assume they are there still." 
 
 " They cannot have ejoue without Tomlins seeing them, 
 anil, if he had, he would soon have despatched a messenger 
 with intelligence to that effect." 
 
 " Very good. You say the thought occurred to you 
 that if Blueskin was there Jack Sheppard was very close 
 at haud ? " 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "And after a time — now, please be particular about 
 this — after a time you discovered a boat close to the 
 water's edge, in which were seated two persons, who, you 
 say, were Jack Sheppard and some girl he called Edgworth 
 Bess ? " 
 
 " That is it, sir." 
 
 "Now, guv'ner," said Wild, junior, addressing his father, 
 " there is no doubt about the correctness of the informa- 
 tion. I was disposed to think that we had not heard 
 aright, for it seemed too good news to be true." 
 
 " It does seem too good to be true." 
 
 " But it's all right, guv'ner. You see now I have joined 
 you the tide of fortune will set altogether in your 
 favour." 
 
 " I hope it will." 
 
 " So do I, guv'ner. But we have already wasted quite 
 as much time as we can afford to spare. Wo must make 
 up our minds as to what we are to do." 
 
 " Do ? " asked Wild. " Capture them at once." 
 
 " Easy does it, guv'ner — easy does it ! You are too 
 rash by far. You must decide before you attempt to do 
 any thin or, if you wish to be successful in what you under- 
 take. Now you are in a position to decide upon a course 
 of action. What are you going to do ? " 
 
 " Can you suggest anything ? " 
 
 "Yes. I should recommend you to make up your 
 mind which of these two bits of game you are going to 
 have." 
 
 " Both— both." 
 
 "Ah! now, guv'ner, there you are. That's the secret 
 of your having failed to succeed. You let your attention 
 be divided between two objects, and the consequence is 
 you get neither." 
 
 Wild looked rather surprised at these increasing proofs 
 of his son's abilities, but the surprise was altogether of a 
 pleasurable character. 
 
 He could not shut his eyes to the fact that h'< ~n was 
 perfectly right. ^ 
 
 c " Guv'ner," he continued, "if you want to accomplish 
 any difficult thing, you must fix your eyes upon that one 
 thing, and no other. If you don't, failure is certain, of 
 course. Now of these two parties, which would you rather 
 have ? Just say, and be quick about it, and then we will 
 go in a body to that place, and it will go hard with us if 
 we do not achieve something." 
 
 It was not the easiest matter for Wild to decide this 
 point. 
 
 Yet still he felt that if ho did not come to a determina- 
 tion quickly he would be like the sportsman in the fabie, 
 who, seeing two flocks of birds, was uncertain which to 
 fire at, and in this state of indecision pulled the trigger — 
 of course hitting neither. 
 
 Now, for Wild to say which he desired most to wreak 
 his vengeance upon — Blueskin or Jack Sheppard — was 
 almost an impossibility. 
 
 But there were one or two things which assisted him to 
 come to a decision. 
 
 In the first place, then, he looked upon Blueskiu and 
 Ross as being tolerably secure for a little while in the 
 place they had chosen to occupy, aud the only outlet to 
 which was guarded by one of his (Wild's) men. 
 
 In the second place, Jack Sheppard had with him Edg- 
 worth Bess, of whose person Jonathan Wild was above all 
 things desirous to obtain possession. 
 
 This last decided him. 
 
 " To the river ! " he said, " to the river. We will cap. 
 ture Jack Sheppard first, and leave Blueskin till after- 
 wards." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS 4RE ATTACKED IN 
 THE BOAT BY JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 " All right, guv'ner," said Wild, junior, with all the cool- 
 ness imaginable, " but don't make such a rumpus. Easy 
 does it, you know." 
 
 "Forward!" said Wild to his janizaries. "Follow 
 me at full speed. And you, Tomlins, lead the way to the 
 spot on the river-bank, close to which you say you saw 
 the boat." 
 
 " All light, Mr. Wild. This way, if you please. It is 
 not very far from here, sir." 
 
 Jonathan did not deign any reply to this speech, but 
 pulled out a pistol and put it on full cock. 
 
 In this way, then, they proceeded to the spot of which 
 the man had spoken. 
 
 Of course, the reader having beeu put in possession of 
 all precedent circumstances, knows well how terribly 
 correct was the information which had just been given. 
 
 When we last saw Blueskin and Ross, they were in the 
 narrow passage we have described, and with the tall walls 
 of the Abbey on either side of them ; and those of our 
 readers who feel curious enough to visit the spot will see 
 how difficult the task would be to escape if the one 
 narrow outlet was well guarded. 
 
 When we last saw Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess 
 they were seated in the frail and heavy-laden vessel just 
 as Wild's spy said they were, awaiting the return of their 
 faithful companion, Blueskin. 
 
 With no thought of the danger — the terrible danger 
 with which they were menaced, for they had not seen the 
 dusky, shrinking figure of the spy upon the river's bank 
 — with no suspicion that their arch enemy, Jonathan 
 Wild, was so close upon their track, they spoke to each 
 other upon the many strange occurrences of the past, aud 
 speculated upon the future. 
 
 Alas ! the prospect spread out before them was desolate 
 and drear. 
 
 Nowhere could they see the least gleam of hope in the 
 dark clouds which obscured their future. 
 
 All was uncertainty. 
 
 But Jack, although he felt all this, strove to put as 
 good a face upon the matter as he could, and, though the 
 grounds he had for doing so were slight, yet he cheered 
 and encouraged his companion to the best of his ability, 
 and spared no effort to rouse her drooping spirits. 
 
 And he succeeded, though to a partial extent only. 
 
 They had heard the old Abbey clock peal forth the hour 
 of midnight, and then they began to look for Blueskiu's 
 return, though, of course, they could not tell whether or 
 not he would be kept waiting for Ross, who might have 
 been prevented from reaching the place of assignation at 
 the appointed time. 
 
 So, as the time slipped by, they took scarcely any notice 
 of it. 
 
 Besides, they were deeply engrossed by their conversa- 
 tion, and did not note the flight of time. 
 
 They had been separated from each other for a long 
 time, and many strange events happened to both of them 
 during the interval, as all we have recorded will testily.
 
 BLTTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 379 
 
 During the time they had heen re-united, the chances 
 of explanation had been very few indeed, and so they had 
 much — very much to tell each other. 
 
 The varied occurrences of the past were all talked over. 
 
 In tbe meantime, Jonathan Wild and his men, led on- 
 ward by the spy, approached the spot where their little 
 vessel rested. 
 
 Cautiously and stealthily they all came, treading with 
 the utmost care, so that no sound should reach our friends 
 and give them warning of their approach, the thief -taKer 
 and his band crept down to the water's edge. 
 
 The same pains were taken, too, to prevent their bjeing 
 seen as there were to prevent their being heard. 
 
 They kept close in the shadow of the buildings con- 
 tiguous to the river, so that their outlines could v.o* fe$ 
 distinguished on the dark background which they 
 formed. 
 
 In this way they contrived to creep very close to their 
 victims. 
 
 The surface of the Thames was involved in the utmost 
 gloom. 
 
 But presently both Jonathan Wild and his son and the 
 other members of the band could perceive a small boat 
 resting on the water, and immediately after could detect 
 two persons seated in it, and hear the murmur of their 
 conversation. 
 
 With straining eyes, Jonathan gazed upon this spec- 
 tacle, and as he gazed he drew nearer, nearer, and nearer 
 still. 
 
 It was just at this moment that Edgworth Bess, who 
 had turned to look towards the shore in the hope of 
 seeing Blueskin — it was just at this moment that in a con- 
 vulsive, agitated manner she clutched hold of Jack by the 
 arm. 
 
 Then, with her finger pointed towards the bank, she 
 said, in a low whisper— 
 
 " Jack — Jack." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Hush— hush." 
 
 " What has alarmed you ? " 
 
 " Do not speak. Look — look, oh ! look in the direction 
 to which I point. What can you see ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 "Are you sure? I fancied I could see the figures of 
 many men on horseback, looking like shadows in the dark- 
 ness. Look, can you see them ? " 
 
 Even while Bess spoke there crept over the surface of 
 the water a faint flush of leaden-coloured light. 
 
 It came from the rising moon. 
 
 That orb could not, however, be distinguished yet, 
 though a few of her most powerful beams forced a way 
 through the mass of clouds upon the horizon, and it was 
 this which cast the gray beam of light upon the river. 
 
 Every moment, too, the light grew brighter. 
 
 It was this which enabled Jack to see the objects which 
 the quick eye of Edgworth Bess had discerned. 
 
 " By heaven ! " he involuntarily exclaimed, " it must be 
 Wild and his myrmidons. It is — it is ! They have 
 tracked us even to this spot. Oh ! Blueskin ; where is 
 Blueskin ? " 
 
 There could now be no sort of doubt as to the character 
 of the moving, shadowy-looking objects upon the river's 
 bank. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was for a moment so much agitated 
 that he knew not what to do. 
 
 His companion was no better ; indeed, she Lad 
 cowered down in the boat the moment that she learned 
 her implacable foe was so near. 
 
 Jack's agitation proceeded solely from Blueskin'c con- 
 dition. 
 
 What should he do ? 
 
 He bad heard no sounds of conflict rise upon tl)9 still 
 night air, as he certainly would have done if any encoun- 
 ter between his comrade and Wild had taken place. 
 
 Tbe presumption, then, was that they had not attacked 
 Blueskin. 
 
 Then, probably knowing nothing of tho presence of his 
 foes, he would come down to the river bank, and fall an 
 easy prey into their hands. 
 
 But Jack could not see in what way he could aid him ; 
 and himself and Edgworth Bess were menaced by a 
 danger of no common description. 
 
 His immediate plan would be to see ia what way he 
 could avoid ifc. 
 
 In waiting for Blueskin upon the desperate chance of 
 being able to aid him, he might involve poor Edgworth 
 Bess in irretrievable ruin. 
 
 These thoughts flashed through his mind with great 
 rapidity, and it was while they did so that hi3 irresolution 
 continued. 
 
 But he made np his mind, and, with one vigorous 
 stroke of the oars, he shot the boat out into the stream. 
 
 He was able to do this suddenly and quickly, because, 
 while waiting for bis comrade, he had been compelled to 
 keep the sculls in his hands and use them slightly, to 
 counteract the effect of the current, for the tide was flow- 
 ing out rather rapidly, and would soon have drifted hira 
 to a considerable distance if he had not taken these pre- 
 cautions to keep himself stationary. 
 
 And thus Blueskin was left to his fate, to fight his own 
 battles as best ho could. 
 
 But then how was Jack to help acting in the way ho 
 did ? 
 
 It was the only chance he had of saving himself and the 
 heiress from capture, and better one perish than all. 
 
 But still it was not without a very uncomfortable feeling 
 at his heart that he acted in the manner we have 
 described. 
 
 Jonathan Wild observed the sudden movement of tho 
 boat, and guessed what had occasioned it. 
 
 He had been seen, and they had taken the alarm. 
 
 There was now no need for further concealment, and, 
 furious with rage to think that he had had all his trouble 
 of making such a stealthy approach to the water's edge 
 for nothing, he shouted in a loud voice to his men — 
 
 "Fire! Curses on you all! fire! Take careful aim. 
 Fire, I say ! " 
 
 As he spoke, the thief -taker discharged the pistol which 
 he still held in his grasp. 
 
 A straggling kind of volley followed from his men, 
 for all had not the weapons in readiness at precisely the 
 moment when he gave the word of command, but they 
 obeyed as soon as they were able. 
 
 But Jack was far out of the range of the pistols, and 
 the bullets fell harmlessly into the water. 
 
 The next moment he disappeared in the gloom of the 
 river, for the clouds behind which the moon was grew 
 denser and denser, until at length they shut out her light 
 completely, leaving no traces whatever of her presence. 
 
 Wild's son was the only one who did not fire. 
 
 As soon as the report of the discharge had died away, 
 he said, addressing his father — 
 
 " You're a d — d fool, guv'ner ; that's what you are. 
 Now I wonder what good it did you to waste such a lot of 
 powder and shot in that sort of way ? " 
 
 " Pshaw, boy ! cease your folly. What could be 
 done ? " 
 
 " Why, you had a d — d sight better not have done 
 anything than kick up an infernal row like that. Why, 
 you'll ^spread the alarm all over the place, and not 
 only lose those, but Blueskin also." 
 
 " Who says I have lost them ? " 
 
 " I do. How the devil are we to get at them ? Why, 
 if there was a boat all ready for us to jump into — which 
 there isn't — we should have the devil's own job to find 
 them, for they are quite out of sight, and the river's as 
 dark as pitch." 
 
 "What do I care for that ? " roared Wild, who, after 
 the failure of his design, and the disappointment he felt in 
 consequence, was not exactly in the state of mind to 
 brook these remarks by his son. " I will have them — I 
 have sworn it. A boat — a boat ! Find me a boat, and I 
 will not quit it until I have found them." 
 
 The men did not wait for auy further commands, but 
 seeing the state of fury in which their imperious master 
 was, dispersed themselves up and down the banks of the 
 river in search of a boat. 
 
 But nothing of tho kind could they find that looked at 
 all as though it would answer their purpose. 
 
 " Now, guv'ner," said Wild, junior, who remained quite 
 unruffled during his father's storm of anger, " as I have 
 said to you before, don't be a fool. Just listen for a 
 moment to reason." 
 
 " Beason be d— d." 
 
 " 1 kuow that's what you always say, and that's how it 
 is you don't get on. Keason won't be d — d." 
 
 " I didn't mean that." 
 
 " The more fool you, thei>, to 6ay what you don't mean,
 
 Lf^n niawffw 
 
 i 380 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A KOMANCB. 
 
 But you let your temper get the better of you, guv'ner, 
 that's how it is, and while you do you will never get on. 
 Now, from what I have seen, I don't feel at all surprised 
 that you should have failed in capturing these people as 
 you have." 
 
 " Cease your preaching. That will do no good." 
 
 " Not now it won't. Now, guv'ner, I am calm and 
 you ain't. Will you just condescend to take my advice in 
 this little matter ? " 
 
 " What is it ? " growled Jonathan. 
 
 It was really wonderful to see what an asceniianoy 
 George had obtained over the mind of his delightful 
 father. 
 
 It was his cool defiance of him that did it. 
 
 Who else dared have spoken to the great thief-taker in 
 the manner he just had ? 
 
 No one. 
 
 At all events, not without some hostile demonstration 
 from Jonathan. 
 
 But there was George, as unconcerned as possible, and 
 caving no more for him than he did for Quilt Arnold. 
 
 The hopeful son proceeded to advise his father. 
 
 " You have got spies all over London, don't you say ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Very well, then ; it's no good you wasting your time in 
 a fruitless search after that boat, because the chances are 
 a thousand to one against you finding it ; the best thing 
 you can do is to leave them until you receive some intelli- 
 gence of their whereabouts, and in the meantime let us 
 hasten to surround Blueskin, and either slay him or take 
 him prisoner." 
 
 "No— no!" 
 
 ' No what?" 
 
 " Not slay him ! I have sworn an oath he shall die at 
 Tyburn." 
 
 "Oh! very well; we will capture him, then, but you 
 must be quick about it, or you may make up your mind he 
 will be off! think what a deal of time we have lost already. 
 Call your men together, do ! " 
 
 It would seem that Jonathan fully approved of the plan 
 of action chalked out by his son, for he made no further 
 demur, but placing his whistle to his mouth blew a faint 
 blast upon it. 
 
 It was, however, loud enough to reach the ears of his 
 men, who at once hastened towards him to hear his com- 
 mands. 
 
 "We can find no boats, if you please, sir," they cried ; 
 " at least nothing but lightermen and barges, and they are 
 no good ; there is not a wherry to be seen." 
 
 " Stop your jaw ! " said Wild, junior, " and just wait for 
 orders, will ycu ? " 
 
 CHAPTER CCLIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND KIS SON ATTACK BLUESKIN AND 
 ROSS IN THE PASSAGE LEADING TO POET's-CORNER, 
 WESTMINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 Thus rebuked, the men were suddenly silent, and occupied 
 themselves in adjusting their reins so as to be in a con- 
 dition to give immediate obedience to the orders when 
 they should be given. 
 
 From what we have seen of Wild, junior, at present we 
 are rather inclined to pronounce him a better general than 
 his celebrated father. 
 
 But, then, we may be mistaken, for, after all, our ac- 
 quaintance with him has been of a very recent date in- 
 deed. 
 
 He has said plenty, and shown himself ready enough to 
 give advice and to direct what should or should not be 
 done. But it is not by such things as these that he should 
 be judged and compared with his father, but b.y his 
 actions. 
 
 These we have yet to see. 
 
 The men, however, who composed Jonathan Wild's 
 force upon that occasion, looked at each other with sur- 
 prise and wonder when they saw how completely the 
 command was taken out of his hands and usurped by his 
 Eon. 
 
 And yet it was not exactly that they so much wondered 
 at the son's usurpation, but to think that Jonathan should 
 submit to it with so much tameness as he did. 
 
 That puzzled and bewildered them. 
 
 They were commanded, then, to foHow their two 
 
 leaders — if such they could be called — at a gentle pace, 
 and with as much silence as possible, the route taken 
 being that which would lead them to the passage at 
 Poet's-corner. 
 
 Upon reaching that spot, the two Wilds looked about 
 
 'them, and quickly discerned the man at his post, who 
 
 made a signal to them that all was well — that those they 
 
 sought had not emerged from the passage. 
 
 „ We had better dismount," said George, in a whisper. 
 
 Jonathan acquiesced, and waved his hand for the men 
 to follow his example. 
 
 Silently they all slid from their horses, and stood like 
 spectres in readiness for action. 
 
 " Forward," said Wild, senior. " Rush in and over- 
 power them. There are but two, so you will be easily 
 able to do so. They must not be slain on any account." 
 
 Wild, junior, shook his head when he heard these 
 words, as though he thought the orders given were not 
 the best that could be issued under the circumstances. 
 
 But he said nothing just then — most probably because 
 the opportunity was not afforded him. 
 
 With a sudden dash the men rushed forward up the 
 passage, as though determined to end the matter in the 
 most summary manner possible. 
 
 But we will just glance in tSie meantime at the pro- 
 ceedings of Blueskin. 
 
 It will be recollected that where we left him last he 
 was in conversation with Ross, the landlord. 
 
 But what he was saying was suddenly interrupted by 
 the trampling of horses' feet, Jonathan Wild's command 
 to his men — which reached his ears only in a hoarse 
 murmur — and then the reports of the pistols which were 
 fired at Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess in the boat. 
 
 These sounds at once had the effect of filling his breast 
 with the utmost uneasiness, for he guessed that Jonathan 
 Wild was the cause of them. 
 
 He feared, too, that he had discovered the boat and its 
 occupants, and the d~ead came over his heart that, if he 
 had done so, the position of the fugitives would be a very 
 terrible one indeed. 
 
 All would be over with them. 
 
 But, as we havo already seen, Jack Sheppard and his 
 fair companion escaped from Wild with much greater ease 
 than he could have believed possible. 
 
 Blueskin, however, had no means of knowing this. 
 
 After the pistols had been fired, he could hear nothing 
 more of a definite character. 
 
 How to act he scarcely knew. 
 
 It might be — and he thought most likely — the sounds 
 he heard had no connexion with him ; for who could 
 know he was there P 
 
 If this was the case, it was clearly his best policy to 
 remain just where he was, for by moving he might bring 
 danger upon himself which otherwise he would have 
 avoided. 
 
 Still there was the doubt upon his mind, and this doubt 
 might operate fatally either way. 
 
 What, then, was he to do ? 
 
 He drew Ross to the most retired corner of the passage, 
 and addressed him in a whisper. 
 
 " Do you think any one has dogged your footsteps to 
 this place ? " 
 
 " No, I think not." 
 
 " It is very strange. It may be that what we have just 
 heard, alarming though it seems, in no way concerns us, 
 and yet I cannot divest myself of the idea that, somehow 
 or other, Jonathan Wild has got upon our track." 
 
 " Do you really think so ? " 
 
 " I eannot help doing so. I have about me a most un- 
 comfortable uneasy feeling, and I try in vain to shake it 
 off, because circumstances keep occurring which tend to 
 fix it. in B".y mind." 
 „ "What is it?" 
 
 " Why, this. Jonathan Wild has some means of which 
 I am quite ignorant, of learning what I am all the time 
 about. In what other way are we to account for his 
 presence at your house, which, ten to one, he has never 
 visited before ? " 
 
 " He never did visit it." 
 
 " Then he must have received information, and that of 
 a very precise character. That is what makes mo uneasy, 
 and makes me so full of dread respecting the sounds we 
 have just heard. I fear Jonathan has found out precisely 
 where we are."
 
 BLUESKHC: A. ROMANCE. 
 
 381 
 
 "What shall we do?" 
 
 " That I know not. Perhaps it will be as well to run 
 'Jae risk of emerging from this place. We cannot make 
 our position much worse, I Bhould think." 
 
 " Agreed. I am quite ready to act according to your 
 directions. You must be the better judge of what ought 
 to be done." 
 
 " Take up your treasure, then. You will find it a good 
 load. When we leave the passage I shall make my way 
 direct to the boat, and do you turn in the opposite 
 direction, so that if we are pursued our foes will be 
 divided." 
 
 " Again I say agreed, [Mr. Blake," said Ross," as he 
 began to pick up the ingots of silver from the floor, upon 
 which Blueskin had placed them. " I am much obliged 
 to you," he continued j " more obliged to you than I can 
 well express. You have, indeed, been liberal." 
 
 Boss, the landlord, was a stout, strong, hearty man, so 
 he took up the ingots with much less difficulty than Blue- 
 skin did, who was greatly enfeebled by the numerous 
 wounds he had received. 
 
 As soon as he was ready Blueskin prepared to start. 
 
 But they had already lingered too long. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had reached the entrance as we have 
 already described, and followed closely by his men, made a 
 sudden rush. 
 
 Blueskin comprehended his danger in a moment. 
 
 He had all along been haunted by the idea that the 
 thief-taker was upon his track. 
 
 Now he was upon him. 
 
 His capture seemed certain. 
 
 In that narrow passage which had but one outlet, what 
 chance had he of making his escape ? 
 
 His heart sank within him as the consciousness came 
 over him that he must Ml into the hands of the dreaded 
 thief-taker. 
 
 Perhaps, he thought, Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess 
 had already been made prisoners, and the treasure which 
 had been obtained with so much risk, been taken from 
 them. 
 
 But it was not in Blueskin's nature to submit to any 
 circumstances, let them be ever so adverse, without 
 making at least a desperate effort to preserve his life and 
 liberty. 
 
 And so, on the present occasion, actuated by this feeling, 
 he immediately turned and fled up the narrow passage, 
 until the stone walls prevented him going any further. 
 
 Then he was forced to stand at bay. 
 
 Eoss, the landlord (who, burdened with the weight he 
 carried, was less quick in his movements), was imme- 
 diately borne down by Jonathan Wild's men, and made a 
 prisoner. 
 
 The whole of them rushed upon him, for in the dark- 
 ness it could not be seen who it was. 
 
 " A light ! " said Wild. "Quick ! That ought to have 
 been thought of before. A light." 
 
 Those of the janizaries who were not employed in keep- 
 ing hold of Eoss, busied themselves with lighting the dark 
 lanterns with which they were provided. 
 
 They had done this too often not to be expeditious and, 
 accordingly, before many seconds had elapsed, the united 
 beams of the lanterns tolerably revealed the character of 
 the place they were in. 
 
 I Of course the lenses were at once turned upon the 
 prisoner they held so securely in their grasp, and then 
 they recognised him as the landlord who had furnished 
 them with the drugged ale. 
 
 Jonathan recognised him, too, and commanded his men to 
 hold him tight. 
 
 They obeyed, and directed their master's attention to 
 the ingots of silver which Eoss had dropped. 
 
 Of course Jonathan recognised tkem too, and a howl 
 of anger burst from his lips. 
 
 In the excitements of the last few days he had almost 
 forgotten the robbery, but now the sight of the well- 
 known ingots brought it back with great vividness to his 
 mind. ft 
 
 Without any positive proof that Blueskin »aa Jack 
 Sheppard were the robbers, he had judged*t to be them, 
 but now he had positive proof. 
 
 " Forward," he cried, again. " We have another 
 prisoner to take. Forward. 
 
 Flushed and heated with the success they had already 
 met with, the men rushed up the passage. 
 
 But they reached the end of it without meeting with 
 an obstruction of any kind. 
 
 When they could go no further, with dismay pictured 
 upon their faces, they turned round and looked about 
 them. 
 
 No one was to be seen. 
 
 By some extraordinary means or other, Blueskin had 
 disappeared. 
 
 Wild was furious. 
 
 Convinced there was no means of exit, save one — and 
 that one being the passage guarded by his men — he came 
 to the conclusion that Blueskin must have concealed him- 
 self in some out of the way nook. 
 
 But a haety, though thorough examination of the place 
 showed there was no such place affording the least capa- 
 bilities for concealment. 
 
 The idea struck him that, somehow or other, Blueskin 
 had been cunning enough to slip out unperceived. 
 
 But the men on guard, upon being appealed to, solemnly 
 declared that he had not passed them. 
 
 Jonathan was puzzled. 
 
 Again and again he made an examination of the place, 
 but without result. 
 
 The only thing that looked at all probable was that 
 Blueskin had found some means or other of making his 
 way into the Abbey. 
 
 But Jonathan could see none at all practicable. 
 
 He knew, too, how carefully all the place was secured, 
 and though there were several windows round about, yet 
 none of them bore the appearance of having been forced 
 open. 
 
 " What do you think, George ? " Wild asked, when, 
 thoroughly baffled by the mysterious disappearance, he 
 could come to no conclusion himself. 
 
 " Don't know, old 'un. It's either one of these two 
 things. If Blueskin has not passed the men at the 
 entrance, he must be inside the Abbey, for it is quite cer- 
 tain he is not hiding anywhere about here." 
 
 This was an opinion entirely in accordance with Jona- 
 than's own ideas upon the matter. 
 
 " Take care your other prisoner is secured, and let us 
 effect an entrance into the Abbey, and see if we cannot 
 find the other. 
 
 " Good," said Wild, senior ; " but I hope you see that 
 it is not the easiest matter in the world to capture these 
 fellows." 
 
 " You are right, guv'ner." 
 
 " Those in the boat, you see, eluded us, and I am sure 
 our approach was silent and cautious enough, but some 
 cursed thing or another gave them the alarm." 
 
 " It looks like it." 
 
 Wild would not have let slip this opportunity of remind- 
 ing his son that all was not so easy as he had seemed to 
 think it was for worlds ; in fact, he looked upon it with 
 professional pique. 
 
 The order was given to keep tight hold of Eoss, and 
 then Wild despatched another of his men to call up the 
 man who had charge of the keys of the Abbey — for it was 
 more than even the great thief-taker dare do to break 
 into a sacred edifice upon the mere supposition that a 
 felon, of whom he was in pursuit, had concealed himself 
 there. 
 
 Some time was consequently thus lost, and Wild chafed 
 and fretted like an imprisoned tiger. 
 
 At length the old man, who had charge of the keys of 
 the sacred building, made his appearance. 
 
 At first he demurred, but a diabolical threat, such as 
 Jonathan Wild alone could utter, induced him to alter his 
 mind. 
 
 He fitted the key into the lock with a trembling hand, 
 and shot back the bolt. 
 
 As soon as the door was fairly open for him to pass 
 through, Jonathan rushed in. 
 
 George Wild was next, and, of course, the janizaries 
 were not very far behind, for they knew it was more than 
 their lives were worth to linger. 
 
 The lanterns which they carried had been quite sufficient 
 to illuminate the narrow passage, but now they were 
 brought into the area of the vast building, they were 
 found totally inadequate to disperse the mass of darkness 
 with which it was filled. 
 
 A dim kind of halo was just cast around Wild and his 
 party, and that was all, and more served to keep any one 
 away from them than it enabled them to perceive any one.
 
 3S2 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 But Wild was Dot to bo daunted by such a thing as 
 defect in the amount of light. 
 
 With speed and dexterity he searched all about bvm.nor 
 did he cease until the whole of the area of Westminster 
 Abbey, vast as it is, had been explored. 
 
 The search, however, did not result in their finding any- 
 thing, not eveu so much as a trace of the person of whom 
 they were in pursuit. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLV. 
 
 THE MYSTERT OF BLUESKIN'S EXTK.AORDIIJ.iBT fcl8- 
 APPEARANCE IS REVEALED TO THE REALER. 
 
 If the truth must be told, there was no one more chagrined 
 at this complete failure to capture our friends than the 
 thief- taker's son George. 
 
 He had spoken so confidently about what he should do, 
 and bad, in a manner of speaking, taken the direction of 
 affairs entirely to himself, and, after all, done nothing save 
 capture Ross, the landlord. 
 
 A more favourable chance of making them prisoners 
 George considered they would never have, and the proba- 
 bility is, he was quite right. 
 
 They were all close together, and yet divided, which 
 made their hopes of succeeding look all the brighter. 
 
 And yet, in despite of all this, they had failed, signally 
 failed. 
 
 George" Wild was so enraged that he could scarcely 
 trust himself to speak, and that is how it is we have heard 
 so little of him lately. 
 
 When the Abbey had been searched, Jonathan stood for 
 a moment or two in doubt as to what he should do next. 
 
 The evidence of Blueskia being in the Abbey rested 
 upon presumption only. 
 
 It might be that he had never entered it, but had 
 managed, somehow or other, to escape. 
 
 If, however, Jonathan could have been assured that he 
 really was within the building, he would not have quitted 
 it until he had looked into every crevice. 
 
 But in the absence of any such assurance, he was not 
 likely to look so closely. 
 
 Still, as we have stated, he explored the whole of the 
 area, not leaving a square foot of it unvisiteu. 
 But still to no purpose. 
 
 " What do you think now, George ?" he asked. 
 " Think, guv'ner ? " 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "Why that they must have the devil himself to aid 
 them." 
 "Bah!" 
 
 "How in the world, then, could he have got out of 
 that passage in the way ho has ? " 
 " It puzzles me ! " 
 "And me!" 
 
 " Let us go outside and look again— perhaps we may 
 find something." 
 " Come, then." 
 
 With these words the worthy pair left the Abbey and 
 proceeded to the end of the passage. 
 
 Looking up they could see nothing but the gray walls of 
 the venerable structure. 
 " There is a window, guv'ner ! " said Wild, junior. 
 " I see it." 
 
 " Could he have got through that P w 
 " It seems hardly possible ! " 
 *' I should not like to try it, guv'ner.'' 
 " It has no appearance either of being oroken or dis- 
 turbed. You may depend upon it he has managed to 
 elude the men at the outlet, and has got clear off." 
 
 " I am afraid that's it, guv'ner. Curse me, if this itn't 
 the rummiest night's work I have ev<«' had." 
 " Why so ? " 
 
 " I would have laid a wager to any amount that we 
 should have had all four prisoners by this time." 
 Wild laughed. 
 
 " You were very confident about what you should do. 
 1 Baid nothiug, because I knew you spoke in ignorance; 
 but now you will have a better idea of the kind of people 
 we have got to grapple with." 
 " Curse it, yes." 
 
 " It is a strange thing, George, and it often gives me 
 a great deal of uneasiness, but if I turn against others I 
 I can succeed, but with them I have always failed." 
 
 " It's a strange disappearance, guv'ner, but now, do you ] 
 know, I think I can tell you the secret of your unsuc- ,J 
 cess." 
 
 " Can you?" 
 
 " Yes. You want your revenge, and "— — » 
 " I will have it." 
 
 " Don't be savage, guv'ner. I say yon want your 
 revenge, and you try to get it, but you are rather too 
 refined in your ideas." 
 " Refined in my ideas ? " 
 
 31 Yes. I mean refined in your ideas of revenge. Now, 
 if it was me, I should consider my revenge quite accom- 
 plished when my foe was dead, no matter how his death 
 was brought about. But you are not content with that." 
 " I am not." 
 
 *' You want to capture them ah ve — to gloat over their 
 sufferings while they are in custody — subject them to 
 the ordeal of a trial, and then have them executed at 
 Tyburn." 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 " You laugh." 
 
 " I do. I laugh when I think of the coming of that 
 day." 
 
 George Wild shook his head. 
 
 " Guv'ner, take my advice. If you want to get rid of 
 them, don't wait for the scragging business, but, the first 
 time you have a chance, put a bullet into them." 
 " Pho— pho." 
 " Have your own way." 
 " George." 
 " What, guv'ner ? " 
 
 "Do you know what is always said about Jonathan 
 Wild ? " 
 " Yes ; but I shouldn't think you like to hear it." 
 " I do." 
 "Do you?" 
 " And glory in it." 
 
 " Well, there's no accounting for tastes. It's true 
 what they do say, but I shouldn't like to hear it if it wan 
 me." 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Why, everybody says that you are the d — dest villain 
 unhung." 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " Why, you seem as if you didn't like it, after all." 
 " Do not try my patience too far, George ; you will find 
 it a dangerous game to trifle with me." 
 
 " Don't you be a fool, guv'ner. I told yon what every- 
 body says about you, and it's the truth." 
 " You go from the point." 
 ■ How so ? " 
 
 " That is not what I meant." 
 " What did you mean, guv'ner ?" 
 
 " Why, all who know me say, ' Jonathan Wild is a man 
 who, sooner or later, never fails to keep his word, no 
 matter at what cost or trouble.' " 
 " Oh ! that's what they say, i3 it P" 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Then it was a slight misunderstanding of mine, that's 
 all, guv'ner." 
 
 " Now, I have sworn that Jack Sheppard shall die at 
 Tyburn, and on this spot I renew the oath. Already has 
 he been tried and cast for death, and hia execution will 
 soon follow." 
 
 " You are an obstinate pig, guv'ner, and it's no good 
 trying to reason with you. But, if you were a sensible 
 man, and this Sheppard stood in the way between you 
 and your designs, you would be content with his death, 
 no mattpr in what way it was inflicted. But it's no good 
 our standing here like this, because our talk will come to 
 nothiug, after all. What are you going to do ? " 
 " I am loath to give in." 
 " So am I, guv'ner." 
 " But what can be done ? " 
 
 " Nothing, that I know of. It's no good our exhausting 
 ourselves uselessly." 
 " It is not." 
 
 "You say yon lave spies in every part of London, 
 whose especial duty it is to watch for their appearance." 
 
 " Yes, and when seen not to lose sight of them, but im- 
 mediately communicate with me." 
 
 " Then let us go back, guv'ner. We can't do any good 
 here. We must wait in patience for a report to come to us. 
 and the next time we must manage things better than this.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A SOilANCE. 
 
 3 Si 
 
 " We must," said Jonathan with a grin, for much 
 rs he desired the capture of the fugitives, he would have 
 been deeply mortified if his son had been successful when he 
 himself had failed so often. 
 
 It was wonderful how much this reconciled him to his 
 defeat. 
 
 He did not feel half so furious as one would have 
 expected. 
 
 He would not have liked his son to achieve such a 
 triumph over him. 
 
 As he had said, the most reasonable thing for them to 
 do was not to waste any more of their time and energies, 
 but return to Newgate-street and wait for soaio fit. a h 
 intelligence. 
 
 Accordingly, Jonathan gave the order for hia men to 
 mount. 
 
 As for Koss, he, at least, was a trophy to take back with 
 them. 
 
 Jonathan was much enraged with Ross, and there is 
 little doubt the landlord will have to suffer smartly for the 
 service he rendered to our friends. 
 
 By the command of the thief-taker his arms were firmly 
 bound behind his back with the sword belts of some of his 
 men, and while in this helpless condition he was lifted on 
 to one of the horses, while a janizary sprang up behind him 
 and took the reins. 
 
 It was in this way that Ross was taken to the thief- 
 taker's house in Newgate-street. 
 
 Poor Ross ! He was quite unable to help himself, and 
 over and over again he cursed his evil fortune. 
 
 But it was all to no purpose. 
 
 He was obliged to submit. 
 
 He was jolted fearfully upon the pommel of the saddle, 
 and he longed for the end of his journey to come, for the 
 horse upon which he sat trotted roughly, and Ross was 
 profoundly ignorant of horsemanship. 
 
 Indeed, if it had not beeu for the janizary putting his 
 arms round his body to hold the reins, and thus retaining 
 him in his seat, he would certainly have fallen to the 
 ground. 
 
 Jonathan did not forget the ingots of silver. 
 
 He had them carefully counted and then delivered them 
 to his men to be distributed amongst them and thus 
 carried home. 
 
 On reaching Newgate-street, the whole troop alighted, 
 and Ross was assisted to the ground. 
 
 The treasure was brought into the hall. 
 
 Quilt Arnold had not formed part of the expedition. 
 
 Indeed, it had become quite an understood thing that 
 when Wild went out on any of his excursions Quilt stayed 
 at home, and had, for the time being, the sole direction of 
 affairs. 
 
 It was so in the present instance. 
 
 But he was up, and waiting for the thief- taker to make 
 his appearance, so he lost no time in showing himself. 
 
 Moreover, Quilt was curious to learn the result of this 
 expedition, for he had learned from the spy what was the 
 object of it. 
 
 He was scarcely surprised when he saw the thief-taker 
 return without the prisoners. 
 
 But he dreaded some ebullition of violence. 
 
 In this he was deceived. 
 
 Wild seemed to be in what, for him, was quite an 
 amiable frame of mind. 
 
 His first care was his prisoner. 
 
 "Take him to the cells, Quilt," said Jonathan, "and 
 keep a sharp eye upon him. Miud you have him secure. 
 I shall hold you responsible for his safe keeping." 
 
 Poor Ross, the landlord, looked very rueful and uneasy 
 when he heard these words. 
 
 He had a wholesome dread of the great thief-taker, 
 and, up to the present time, it had been the study of his 
 life to avoid coming into collision with him. * 
 
 Now, however, he had made Jonathan his bitter enemy. 
 
 And yet we should bo doing the man an injustice if, 
 despite the perilous position in which hi3 actions had 
 placed him, he repented what he had done. 
 
 To be sure, he could not help feeling very uncomfort- 
 able at the thoughts of his position, but he strove to hope 
 for the best. 
 
 Quilt Arnold saw him deposited in one of the strongest 
 of the cells, and having done so, removed, at the prisoner's 
 request, the bells which confined his hands behind his 
 back. 
 
 He had, at all events, the free use of his limbs, and 
 liberty to range the limits of his cell. 
 
 That was better than .being chained to the wall. 
 
 Dawn was now close at hand, and both Jonathan and 
 his son, feeling sleepy, went upstairs, in the hope of being 
 able to snatch a few hours' repose. 
 
 Jonathan Wild went to his room, and, according to his 
 usual custom, flung himself on the outside of the bed with 
 his clothes on. 
 
 But his brain was busy, and the silence and darkness of 
 his chamber served to engender thought. 
 
 His mind was chiefly occupied in thinking of his son. 
 
 He doubted him, and yet wished to place full confidence 
 in him. 
 
 Could he but have been assured of his good faith, he 
 felt he should not fear to undertake anything. 
 
 But he had a doubt. 
 
 Would this delightful son of his be all that he could 
 wish for a little time, and then turn round against him as 
 he did before ? 
 
 It might be so. 
 
 And yet, on the other hand, he might have purchased 
 wisdom with experience, and was now quite sincere iu his 
 protestations of repentance, and quite willing to join bis 
 lather in his nefarious schemes. 
 
 But, while this doubt remained, Jonathan felt it would 
 be not only impossible, but impolitic to trust him. 
 
 How could he make sure that his son was sincere in his 
 professions ? 
 
 He determined to try and find a means. 
 
 The consequences would be ruinous to him if his son 
 wormed his way into his confidence, became possessed of 
 all his secrets, and then turned the knowledge against 
 him. 
 
 " I will test him," muttered Wild, as he tossed rest- 
 lessly over and over upon his bed. " I will test him, 
 and if he proves unworthy, he shall die. He acted to- 
 night with much of my own old daring and cunr Vig, but, 
 then, it is a fresh thing. I must test him — I must test 
 him." 
 
 At the same moment, George Wild, in an adjoining 
 chamber, was thinking of his father. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " he said. " Shall I join myself to 
 him, and let his interests become identical with mine ? 
 I am a good mind to say yes. I might do worse — much 
 worse. I would make up my mind at once to be faithful 
 to him, but, the worst of it is, the guv'ner, with all his 
 cleverness, is the d — dest fool alive." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLVI. 
 
 801IE VERY EXTRAORDINARY ADVENTURES BEFAL 
 BLUESKIN IN WES1IINSTER ABBEY. 
 
 No doubt the reader feels curious in no ordinary degree 
 to learn by what means Blueskin had made such an extra- 
 ordinary and sudden disappearance, and, before we relate 
 the adventures of Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess in 
 the treasure-laden wherry on the Thames, we purpose 
 devoting our time to the elucidation of this mystery. 
 
 We know he managed to get somewhere where Wild, 
 with all his astuteness, was not able to find him, and he 
 was destined to meet with some rather remarkable adven- 
 tures before he emerged from the place of his conceal- 
 ment. 
 
 Whea the janizaries rushed forward and pounced upon 
 Ross in the manner we have at length described, Blue- 
 skin, although the conviction was about his heart that he 
 could not possibly this time avoid being e.iptured by his 
 powerful foe, rushed forward up the parage, animated 
 solely by the instinct which prompted Slim to place as 
 great an interval as possible between himself and his 
 enemies, and not with the idea that by so doing he should 
 be able to effect an ultimate escape. 
 
 Well enough he knew he was in what, to all intents and 
 purposes, was a mousetrap, since there was but one means 
 of entering and emerging from it. 
 
 Upon gaining the end of the narrow passage where the 
 stone walls of the Abbey barred his further progress, Blue- 
 skin turned round and armed himself, determined to resist 
 to the last the attack which he every moment expected 
 his foes to make upon him. 
 
 In consequence, however, of the want of foresight in
 
 3S4 
 
 ULTJESKitf : A HOMAftt*. 
 
 Wild's men in not providing themselves with lights before 
 they made the attack, some little delay took place while 
 the lanterns were lighted and while an examination was 
 made of the prisoner they had in their custody. 
 
 This afforded Blueskin time for reflection, and almost 
 mechanically he cast his eyes around him in search of 
 something which would afford him a chance of escape. 
 
 " If I could but get inside the Abbey," he said, " I 
 might have a chance. The place is so vast, that it would 
 be no easy task for Wild to find me there. I wonder 
 whether it could be done. I fear not. _ There is that 
 window, certainly, but what a frightful height it is from 
 the ground, and how should I contrive to r*ach it ? I am 
 afraid there is not time even for me to make the attempt. 
 Yet why not ? I cannot possibly make my position worse 
 than it is, let me do what I will, and so here goes for the 
 attempt." _ ** 
 
 Having made this resolution, which he did very quickly, 
 'for the words we have set down glided through his mind 
 rather than were spoken, Blueskin sheathed his hanger, 
 ■which he had drawn with the firm intention of defending 
 Biimself with it to the last gasp, and made a desperate rush 
 \&.t ihe gray walls in order to reach the window, which 
 seemed to him to lead direct into the Abbey. 
 
 Had any one asked him whether it was possible to reach 
 that window, he would have answered without hesitation 
 in the negative. 
 
 That is to say, under ordinary circumstances, and with 
 ordinary occurrences to influence his exertions. 
 
 But when any one is m-ged onwards by threats of imme- 
 diate death, it is incredible what a difference takes place. 
 
 How the timid hare will fly when pursued by the 
 remorseless greyhound ! 
 
 With a frantic dash, then, Blueskin sprang up to the 
 projecting gable of the old Abbey, and clung to it with the 
 might of desperation. His fingers were bruised and his 
 nails broken by his endeavours to obtain a hold, but he 
 did not heed that, for he was at last rewarded with a firm 
 grasp upon the stonework. 
 
 Then, with an agility which no one scarcely would have 
 looked for him possessing, he continued his exertions, and 
 mounted upwards until he clutched the sill of the window 
 which was to lead him to safety. 
 
 Having done this, he almost felt that his troubles were 
 over, though, in reality, he had far from vanquished all the 
 difficulties which interposed themselves between him and 
 entering. 
 
 Holding firmly with one hand, although he had 
 scarcely sufficient strength to sustain his own weight, 
 Blueskin, with his other baud, rapidly felt over the leaden 
 framework of the window. 
 
 To his joy, he found it was unfastened. 
 
 It gave way to the slight pressure which his hand pro- 
 duced in passing over it, and swung open like a door. 
 
 Here, indeed, was an incentive to fresh exertion, and the 
 glance which he cast at the proceedings of Wild and his 
 men below made him indeed aware of ,the urgent neces- 
 sity there was for him to be expeditious in his movements, 
 if he did not want to have all his trouble for nothing^ 
 
 Summoning all his remaining strength into one spring, 
 Blueskin raised himself upwards and crawled through 
 the window. 
 
 Fortunately there was on the inner side a window-sill of 
 great and unusual width — indeed it was formed of the 
 thickness of the outer wall of the Abbey, 
 
 This afforded him a place, then, upon which he could 
 rest. 
 
 Gladly enough, then, he sat down, and as quickly and 
 as noiselessly as possible shut the latticed casement and 
 fastened it. 
 
 He was just in time, for, peeping through the panes, he 
 saw the men exhibit by their gestures the rage and 
 astonishment which they felt at his unexpected disap- 
 pearance. 
 
 Fain would Blueskin, from the position he now occu- 
 pied, have continued to watch the proceeding? of his 
 ■ enemies, but he felt he must control this desire, since it 
 ■would expose him to the danger of discovery. 
 
 A gleam of light cast upwards at that window from one 
 i6f the lanterns, might, perhaps, reveal his presence there. 
 
 Accordingly he drew back, and sat on the very edge of 
 the window-sill, with his legs dangling into space. 
 
 And now a rather serious question presented itself to 
 him. 
 
 He was, undoubtedly, some considerable distance from 
 the floor of the building, and how was he to reach it ? 
 
 He was not even in a position to say how far the ground 
 was beneath him. 
 
 Nor to ascertain it. 
 
 And yet it would never do for him to remain where he 
 was. 
 
 He knew the character of the thief-taker too well to 
 think that he would give up the hope of capturing him 
 without making a thorough search. 
 
 Some better place of concealment must be found, and 
 that without delay. 
 
 Blueskin always made it a point not to be without the 
 means of procuring a light. 
 
 He had too often experienced the utility of this not to 
 be fully impressed with the value of it, and it may safely 
 be affirmed that, unless some unlooked-for accident 
 deprived him of them, he had always the means of pro- 
 curing a light at his command. 
 
 But, on the present occasion, he was nnable to avail 
 himself of the means in his possession, because, if he had 
 done so, he would inevitably have betrayed his where- 
 abouts to hi3 foes. 
 
 Some other means must be found, and Blueskin's 
 fertile imagination soon lighted upon one. 
 
 He put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a coin. 
 
 He could not, in the darkness of the place, see what it 
 was, nor did he care to know. 
 
 It was a coin, and that was enough. 
 
 He held it out at arm's length, and then carefully 
 released it from his grasp. 
 
 Then he waited for the sound which it would make 
 upon reaching the ground. 
 
 And by taking notice of the length of time it occupied 
 in falling, he would be able to calculate the distance with 
 sufficient nearness to answer his purpose. 
 
 The sound reached his ears almost instantly, which 
 showed the distance to be short — much shorter than he 
 conceived it possible to be. 
 
 But there was not one clear, ringing, metallic sound as 
 it struck, but a succession of them, following each other 
 with great rapidity, and each one coming with less dis- 
 tinctness to the listener's ears than the preceding one. 
 
 "It is a staircase," gasped Blueskin, and, as he spoke, 
 such a gush of pleasure came over him that he almost 
 lost his seat. 
 
 A staircase ! What could bo more fortunate ? It was 
 just the thing. He would be able to reach it without 
 difficulty, and gain the floor of the Abbey easily. 
 
 He had yet a chance of escape. 
 
 Surely, on that night, fortune befriended Blueskin to 
 no ordinary degree. 
 
 Bapidly and cautiously, his heart animated by the hope 
 that he should again baffle his foe, Blueskin lowered him- 
 self from the window-sill, and had the satisfaction of find- 
 ing, when he hung down to the full length of his arms, 
 that the tips of his toes touched the ground. 
 
 Fearlessly, then, he released his hold and stood firmly 
 upon the staircase. 
 
 The interior of the Abbey was involved in the most 
 impenetrable darkness. 
 
 Whether the staircase led up as well as down he could 
 not see, and the only means by which he could satisfy 
 himself upon that point was his sense of feeling. 
 
 He soon found, then, that he was not at the top of the 
 staircase, but he was still deprived of the means of know- 
 ing whether it went up much higher or where it led. 
 
 It was a question as to which would be the likeliest to 
 bring hi^ in safety — to ascend or descend. 
 
 He choose the latter. 
 
 As he went down, BluesRln soon became aware that the 
 staircase was a spiral one, such as are constructed ia 
 towers and other buildings. 
 
 As he went down, which he did with considerable 
 rapidity, he noticed that ho passed no more windows. 
 
 This brought to his recollection the circumstance that 
 when he stood outside, the window through which he ha^ 
 forced an entrance was the nearest to the ground. 
 
 " Surely," he thought, " I may venture to light a match 
 and look about me. I do not think there is the least fear 
 of it being seen by those outside. I will run the risk, at 
 all events, for this Abbey is a curious old place, and, being 
 a stranger in it, I ought to be more than usually careful in 
 what I am about."
 
 L.BLUKSKIN STOPS 
 
 Speaking these words, Bluest paused in his descent 
 
 BUSTS*?"" coat - pockel tho "i»wS^« 
 
 tJ n h f luc . if f r -n»atch, so handy and convenient, was not 
 
 then in existence-it had never been dreamt of. 
 
 bolt T^ mI ? whlch Blueskin produced consisted of a 
 
 wfth t£ 08pho rr and some thi " p iec ° s of wood 
 
 beTbtained 6lleDt Md toI -^]y brilliant light could 
 
 ^AsStit&S^ 1,Vhted sputtereda 
 
 ^ While the flame lasted, he took a good look around 
 
 top H norTh n e d bJuoL el of \ a l rCUlar 6tairca3e ' neither the 
 v\Z • bon ° m of which was visible. 
 I he stairs were of stone and well worn. 
 
 fJlKE S 7 tha n t y th USt UP ° Q & aQ , d fr0m this 
 ^ a*an argued that they wore frequently made use 
 
 The match quickly burned out. 
 so 49.— Blueskm. 
 
 Ho. 49. 
 
 THE roiT-CHAISE.] 
 
 grJareTtLTrt^w^ 11983111 ^ *"»«* *« *— 
 
 str^tcrng^hSarm/so 1 SS*^ «*" Blueakto, aa , 
 touch the wall and w?th «J S ^ ° ne hand he c °u'<l 
 case, he continued To d scend '< iT™ 1 ° f tha - stair - 
 
 risl'byloVoin^ttf !, Q ' aDd th ? USh he raQ a vel 7 great 
 of whLh°heTa D d' 8 p£n ' ^ ^ ° f W " **« 
 
 ne2 SIS ISSSS^ " length ' aDd ab ° Ut the thick " 
 
 4° vs sasfsrft? the iight ™ id * • 
 
 Btill it waa quite enough to answer his purpose
 
 386 
 
 BLUfcSKlMi A HoMANCiC. 
 
 And it had this advantage— it was not so likely to be 
 seen through any crevico by those who were without. 
 
 As an extra precaution, however, Blueskin took off 
 his hat, and held it with one hand in such a position over 
 the light that no raws proceeding from it wero permitted 
 to fall upon the outer wall— indeed, it cast the majority of 
 them clown upon the step just beneath his feet. 
 
 Swiftly, then, and with a feeling of greater _ confidence 
 than ho had hitherto had, he re-commenced his descent. 
 
 In a few minutes his further progress was barred by a 
 door, which was placed right across the ejuircase. 
 
 A strong-looking door it was, too, and it threatened to 
 put a stop to his going any further in that directioi- 
 
 But the delight of our friend may be imagined whoii ae 
 fouud it give way to a touch. 
 
 Ho passed through it and closed it after him. 
 
 He then found himself in a small, square place, with 
 two doors before him — one ou his right hand and the 
 other on his left. 
 
 He chose the former. 
 
 But it was locked. 
 
 The lock was, however, on the same side as himself, 
 and of a very clumsy construction, as the locks are in 
 most sacred edifices erected centuries ago. 
 
 Such an obstacle as this would not stand long in the 
 way of our friend Blueskin. 
 
 After listening, to be confident that all was still, he 
 took a little steel instrument, bent at one end into a hook, 
 from his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole. 
 
 The bolt of the lock shot back in a moment with a loud 
 snap 
 
 CHAPTER CCLVIL 
 
 BLUESKIN REACHES THE VAULTS BENEATH WESTMINSTER 
 ABBET, AND IS THE MEANS OF RENDERING AN IMPORT- 
 ANT SERVICE. 
 
 In reality the snap of the lock did not make much noise, 
 but all Blueskin's senses, and more especially that of 
 hearing, were on the stretch, so that the sound came to 
 his ears in what might be called an exaggerated fashion. 
 So he shrank back with a look of alarm upon his coun- 
 tenance, and the hand in which he held the little wax 
 taper shook so excessively that it threatened every 
 moment to extinguish it. 
 
 But, after the elapso of a few seconds, Blueskin re- 
 covered himself. 
 
 He had listened intently, but all was profoundly still. 
 As a measure of prudence, however, he extinguished 
 the taper before he pushed the door open. 
 
 He had no idea where it led, nor what results the show- 
 ing of a light would produce. 
 Gently, then, he pushed the door a little way open. 
 It creaked ominously upon its hinges. 
 Blueskin projected his head through the crevice, and 
 the first glance which he gave around served to show him 
 what place he was in. 
 
 Dimly lighted up by the rays of night, which pene- 
 trated through the numerous tall windows, were the 
 solemn-looking aisles and arches of the old Abbey. 
 Blueskin drew in his head, and shut the door. 
 " There is no luck that way," he said; "I must try 
 the other door. If I go out there, Jonathan will nab me, 
 to a certainty. Ha! what's that?" 
 
 A faint sound came through the door, which was not 
 closely shut, to Blueskin's ears. 
 
 He projected his head again, and listened. 
 He knew what the sound was. 
 
 Someone was rather roughly turning a key in a lock 
 which was obstinate and would not act. 
 
 "Jonathan is on my track," he said; "I must be 
 speedy. I hope the other door will lead me to somo place 
 of safety, where I can hide myself from him." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin closed the door leading into the 
 Abbey, and, by means of the same crooked piece of steel, 
 locked it again, so no suspicions would bo aroused if any 
 who knew the door ought to be locked came and tried it ; 
 whereas, if he had left it undone, he might have given a 
 good clue to his situation. 
 
 Having done this, Blueskin rapidly relighted the taper, 
 and made his way to the door at the bottom of the flight 
 of steps, and which we have mentioned as being upon his 
 left hand. 
 
 He cast a light up and down this door, but could see no 
 other fastening upon it save a lock. 
 
 He pushed the door, but it was fast. 
 
 The services of the picklock were again called into re- 
 quisition and, as the lock was of the same make as the 
 other, there was just as little trouble in opening it. 
 
 With a great deal of curiosity — for, of course, a great 
 deal depended upon what kind of place it was beyond— 
 Blueskin opened this door. 
 
 As he had more viaa half suspected from the situation 
 of it, it disclosed a continuation of tho staircase he had 
 just descended. 
 
 " The vaults ?" he said. " Yes, this must lead to th* 
 vaults beneath the old Abbey. 1 have bsavd how vast is 
 their extent, so vast that no man living is acquainted with 
 all the ramifications. Surely, now, all will be well ! I 
 shall escape ; but how I long to know the fate of Jack 
 Sheppard and Edg worth Bess !" 
 
 Blueskin might well feel anxious regarding the fate of 
 his two companions, for their position was one of tho 
 greatest peril. 
 
 Ths trampling of feet and the murmur of voices reached 
 Blueskin's ears, sometimes sounding quite close at hand 
 and then afar off, as though the pursuers were dispersing 
 themselves over the building, which was indeed the fact. 
 
 This warned him to be quick in selecting his place ol 
 concealment, for how could he tell how soon some one 
 might try the door which he had relocked. 
 
 Accordingly, he, without hesitation or delay, com- 
 menced the descent of the winding flight of steps, first 
 taking care to relock the second door. 
 
 The damp, earthy sort of smell which now saluted his 
 nostrils, as well as the sawdust on the steps, confirmed 
 him in his previous supposition that he was going to- 
 wards the vaults. 
 
 An oppressive stillness was around him. 
 
 The stillness of the tomb. 
 
 No sound from above was now audible, though fain 
 would our friend have heard something to assure him 
 that he was among his fellow-creatures. 
 
 As he descended, the dampness of the air became more 
 and more perceptible. 
 
 The candle soon began to show signs of it, for it burned 
 with a dim and sickly lustre, and scarcely dispelled the 
 darkness immediately surrounding it. 
 
 The stairs, too, became slippery, and Blueskin, in order 
 not to lose his footing, was compelled to keep as tight a 
 hold as he could upon the stonework. 
 
 Tho charnel-house odour increased, and made the air 
 have a damp, sticky, sickening flavour when inhaled Into 
 the lungs. 
 
 Such things as these, to a man who was flying for his 
 life and seeking some place where he could be safe from 
 the persecutions of his enemy, were minor inconveniences, 
 and therefore Blueskin paid but little attention to them. 
 
 At length the bottom of the steps was reached, and then 
 Blueskin held the light as high up above his head as he 
 could, and strove by looking round to ascertain what kind 
 of a place he was in. 
 
 He found that he stood in a small rectangular-shaped 
 chamber. 
 
 Advancing into the middle of this, ho saw before him 
 a dccx deeply set in an arch, and having the appearance 
 of great strength. 
 
 Sawdust was thjfkly strewn upon the floor of this 
 chamber, and Blueskin, holding the light down, saw the 
 traces of many footsteps, which clearly evidenced that 
 the place had been visited quite recently. 
 
 He saw this with alarm, because, although he had done 
 so much, he had by no means reached a place of absolute 
 safety. 
 
 Some means must be found of passing through that 
 door, which, doubtless, was in immediate connection with 
 the vaults, of whose existence Blueskin had heard frequent 
 mention made. 
 
 This door, then, must be passed through. 
 
 He listened, but not the faintest sound, save the hurried 
 beating of his own heart, reached his ears. 
 
 The influence exerted upon human beings by darkness 
 is as remarkable as it is universal, and Blueskin, strong- 
 minded though he was, could not shake off the feeling 
 which possessed him. 
 
 He did not delay, however, except to listen in the man- 
 ner we have described.
 
 BLUESKIN: A BOMANCS. 
 
 S87 
 
 He then turned the whole of his attention to the door, 
 which was the only one visible. 
 
 It was of iron. 
 
 The feel and the look of it told him that, 
 
 No other fastenings were visible, save a couple of bolts, 
 which were shot into their sockets. 
 
 One was near the top and the other near the bottom of 
 the door. 
 
 This was awkward. 
 
 To pass through this door the bolts must be withdrawn, 
 and when he got on the other side, how were they to be 
 shot into their sockets again ? 
 
 Had it been a wooden instead of an iron door, Blueskin 
 might perhaps h#ve managed to accomplish the feat. 
 
 Now it was out of the question. 
 
 The drawn bolts would show at once the route which 
 ne had taken. 
 
 But he could not hold back for this one untoward cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 He had a hope, too, that he might find fastenings on 
 the other side, or, at least, be able to do something which 
 would obstruct the passage of his enemies through it, 
 even if they were successful in tracking l»im so far. 
 
 The bolts were drawn back and the door opened. 
 
 A gloomy-looking passage was disclosed beyond, but its 
 extent could not be ascertained without a much better 
 light thau Blueskin could procure. 
 
 Boldly enough he crossed the threshold of the mys- 
 terious-looking portal, and then, turning round, closed it 
 after him. 
 
 There were no fastenings of any kind on the other side. 
 
 Nor could he see any niovea. objects with which ho 
 could construct a barricade, and prev t it being opened 
 easily. 
 
 He was obliged to leave it just as it was. 
 
 But he resolved to push on, for he might be lucky 
 enough to come to some place where he could safely hide 
 himself, or else, better still, find some other means of 
 emerging from the subterraneous place. 
 
 Animated by this hope, he quickened his pace from a 
 walk to a run, but he was soon compelled to pause, for 
 the little wax taper burned dimmer and dimmer every 
 moment, and the rapid motion threatened its immediate 
 extinguishment. 
 
 The whole of the passage was covered with sawdust, 
 so that, as he trod, Blueskin produced no more sound than 
 a spectre. 
 
 He was now some considerable distance from the iron 
 <$o?r, and he paused to listen. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 No trampling of feet, no overturning of various objects, 
 no loud shouts, announced the approach of Wild and his 
 men. 
 
 Suddenly, however, and just as he was about to move 
 away, a sound arose, which for a moment made him tremble 
 and his blood to rush with a sickening sensation to his 
 heart. 
 
 He leaned up against the wall of the passage. 
 
 "What was that?" he said. "Oh! what was that? 
 I trust I may never hear that sound again." 
 
 There was a scared look upon Blueskin's face as he 
 spoke these words. 
 
 The sound which so alarmed him was a groan, or some- 
 thing that sounded like one. 
 
 A groan uttered by some person in more than mortal 
 agony, if one might judge from the tone of it. 
 
 What could it mean ? 
 
 Cold beads of perspiration stood upon Blueskin's fore* 
 head as he asked the question. 
 
 His knees trembled beneath him. 
 
 Blueskin was not a coward. 
 
 The numberless exploits which, in the course of this 
 narrative, we have seen him perform, will all attest, in 
 Jne most satisfactory manner, to his courage. 
 
 But he was a man, and not exempt from human in- 
 fluence. 
 
 The place in which he was oxercised a great effect upon 
 nis mind. 
 
 It was impossible it could be otherwise. 
 
 And he was not superstitious. 
 
 Far from it. 
 
 At a time when superstition was more rife and, conse- 
 quently more excusable than it is now, he was less 
 tainted with it than many were. 
 
 But the solemnity of the vaulted passage beneath West- 
 minster Abbey — 
 
 The deep silence which prevailed — 
 
 The intense darkness, which the taper he carried only 
 served to exhibit instead of to disperse — 
 
 The sickly, clammy feel of the atmosphere in that sub- 
 terraneous region — 
 
 All these efiects combined conspired to produce in his 
 mind a feeling of dread — of shaking terror. 
 
 In the broad open eye of day, had he heard that sound, 
 it would not have had that effect upon him which it did 
 now. 
 
 But here the case was different. 
 
 Again came the awful sound. 
 
 The wax taper trembled in his grasp, and cast odd-look- 
 ing shadows on the walls. 
 
 Had his life depended upon his giving a reply, Blueskin 
 could not have told from what direction the fearful cry 
 proceeded. 
 
 It seemed to fill all the dense impure air in the passage, 
 to be borne along by it, and it sounded on all sides of him 
 just alike. 
 
 But such a sound ! 
 
 No imagination, however vivid — no description, however 
 well-penned— could give the least idea of what it was 
 like. 
 
 All that could be said was that it was horrible — most 
 horrible. 
 
 What could be the meaning of that sound ? 
 
 Ere now, Blueskin had many a time heard how disem- 
 bodied spirits roamed the earth, and how strange sounds 
 had been heard and strange sights seen in those receptacles 
 provided for the interment of the de»d. 
 
 Strange sights seen. 
 
 As this reir liection occurred to him, he glared with 
 straining, startling eyeballs up and down the passage, and 
 his excited fancy pictured awful forms, which in reality 
 had no existence. 
 
 We can scarcely feel surprised at Bluegkin's feelings. 
 
 A writer to whom the human heart, and all the varying 
 feelings which swayed it, were well known, once said that 
 he must indeed be something more or less than a man who 
 could boldly stand forward and proclaim that he was 
 entirely free from all taint of superstition. 
 
 We think so too. 
 
 Everything was calculated to produce au effect upon 
 Blueskin's mind. 
 
 The midnight hour. 
 
 The ghostlike passage. 
 
 And, in fine, all those appearances which have ever been 
 deemed accessories to such a scene. 
 
 Not for one moment did he think that such a sound as 
 that which he now heard, heart-chilling as it was, pro- 
 ceeded from his foes. 
 
 In the strange, prolonged, wailing cry, there was such 
 a tone of intense agony as no one could possibly imitate. 
 
 It wa3 real. 
 
 But he strove to call logic to his aid, and to fancy that 
 it was but his heated imagination which had conjured up 
 the sound that so alarmed him. 
 
 Vain hope. 
 
 Even as he tried to cheat himself into the belief, ho 
 caught himself stretching his sense of hearing to thsr 
 utmost, waiting for the sound to come again. 
 
 But would it do 60? 
 
 That was the question. 
 
 Blueskin listened. 
 
 CHAPTEK COLVIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN FATHOMS THE MYSTERY OF THE AWFUL CBt 
 WHICH SO ALARMED 1IIM. 
 
 The horrible groan which had broken in upon t' e intens? 
 silence of that gloomy place, was a sound so awful that 
 it seemed qui to impossible for it to be repeated a third 
 time. . , 
 
 It was such a cry as one could conceive some tortured 
 spirit would utter when the dread sentence of everlasting 
 punishment should be pronounced. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was forgotten. 
 
 The danger with which he might fairly be presumed to 
 be menaced was unheeded. 
 
 All his faculties were bent u^on that ene oi listening
 
 1 !! 8 __. 
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOJIANCI 
 
 lor a repetition of the sound which had filled his soul ps 
 full of horror 
 
 It came. 
 
 And, though ho was waiting for it— expecting if— Blue- 
 Bkin started with surprise. 
 
 This last time the cry seemed much louder than before. 
 
 Still it seemed to float upon the air and to fill the whole 
 of the passage, making it impossible to say from whence it 
 proceeded. 
 
 Had not the cry come this third and last time, Blueskin 
 might have succeeded in deluding himself into the belief 
 that what ho heard was fancy only. 
 
 Now he felt that to be utterly impossible. 
 
 The sound was too palpable for him to be mistaken. 
 
 But, feeling ashamed of the sensations which had hold 
 him so long in bondage, he, with one great effort, forsook 
 the support which the wall afforded him. 
 
 He hold the wax taper in the air, and looked defiantly 
 around him. 
 
 He made an effort to recover himself. 
 
 Then spoke. 
 
 He addressed himself. 
 
 His voice had a peculiar hollow sound. 
 
 "What was that?" he asked. "What was that? 
 Surely it was a groan. Such a groan as some one would 
 give who was suffering the direst pain. Who can it be ? 
 Let me throw off from my soul all superstitious feelings. 
 It must be some one human like myself. Yet what an 
 awful one. It seemed to fill the air, and to reach my ears 
 from every side alike. What can it mean ?" 
 
 These words seemed to have some influence upon Blue- 
 skin's feelings. 
 
 His voice, perhaps, altered in tone as it was, served to 
 reassui'e him. 
 
 Certain it is that, with a firm step and an erect gesture, 
 he walked still further along the passage. 
 
 On either side of him were low strong doors. 
 
 He was reminded of Newgate. 
 
 It looked just like one of the corridors of that gloomy 
 building, with the cells opening from it on either side. 
 
 He could have little doubt about where those doors led 
 to. 
 
 Not to cells but to family vaults — the receptacles of the 
 wealthy dead. 
 
 Did the cry ho had heard emanate from some one of 
 those vaulted chambers. 
 
 He could scarcely think so. 
 
 The doors were small, and coir-posed of iron. 
 
 They fitted closely in their frames. 
 
 What groan, then, could penetrate through such a 
 barrier ? 
 
 It was while these thoughts occupied his mind that, for 
 the fourth time, ho heard the cry. 
 
 But this time he was more composed than he bad 
 hitherto been. 
 
 He was able to decide upon the spot from which it 
 oame. 
 
 "Further along the passage," he said. "Further 
 along the passage. I am sure that was where it sounded. 
 Perhaps after all I have deceived myself. It may be the 
 wind coming through some constructed aperture which 
 causes the sound. 1 must see. If that is so, who can say 
 that that same aperture might not be the means of leading 
 me to freedom." 
 
 Having taken this view of the case, Blueskin might be 
 said to have almost entirely shaken off the superstitious 
 notions which oppressed him. 
 
 To be sure, he glanced uneasily from side to sido as he 
 pursued his way along the passage, but there was nothing 
 more to denote his trepidation. 
 
 Five minutes «iterwards his progress was arrested Dv a 
 stone wall. 
 
 The passage extended no further in that direction. 
 
 He made a narrow examination of this wall in the hope 
 ot being able to detect £he crevice which he had made up 
 his mind must exist, and which had produced the awful cry. 
 
 But nothing of the kind met his ear. 
 
 The wall presented one uniform level surface, and 
 nowhere in it could be detected what he had imagined 
 must exist. 
 
 This brought back with full force all his old ideos to 
 his mind. 
 
 He turned ••ound quickly and placed his back against 
 ttie wall. 
 
 No sound of his pursuers reached his ears, nor had any 
 for a long space of time. 
 
 In fact, Jonathan Wild had withdrawn from the Abbey 
 after his unsuccessful search, and was on his way home 
 to Newgate-street. 
 
 But of this comfortable piece of news Blueskin was, of 
 course, in ignorance. 
 
 "This is foolish of me," he said. "Let me discard 
 from my brain all the ideas which gather there. Let me 
 discard all the superstitious fancies. It may be that in 
 one of these vaults, the doors of which are on either side 
 of ma, there may be some unhappy wretch suffering the 
 agonies of premature interment, and it may be from his 
 lips that these awful sounds have come which havo so 
 terrified and alarmed me. 
 
 This was a very plausible view of the case indeed, and 
 Blueskin felt strengthened and revived by it. 
 
 It might, however, turn out to be just as fallacious as 
 his former hypothesis. 
 
 "I will ascertain," continued Blueskin, still speaking 
 his thoughts aloud, for he found it a great convenience to 
 I do so, "I will ascertain whether I am right. But how 
 am I to do this ? Perhaps the cry will not come again." 
 
 Ho listened, as if in the expectation that his words 
 would meet with some kind of response. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 " I will walk down the passage," he said, " and knock 
 at all the doors in succession. Then, if there is any in- 
 mate in one of them who wishes to emerge, he will do 
 something to attract my attention." 
 
 By these words it would seem that Blueskin had re- 
 gained something like his ordinary composure. 
 
 Season and reflection had dispelled the delusions of his 
 brain. 
 
 In pursuance of the determination which he had formed, 
 he took a pistol from his pocket, and grasped it by the 
 barrel, so that he was able to use the butt-end of it as a 
 hammer. 
 
 Holding the candle in the other hand, he stepped for- 
 ward. 
 
 Then, upon reaching the first door, he struck three 
 heavy blows upon it. 
 
 A sharp metallic sound was produced. 
 
 Ere the reverberations had died away, Blueskin applied 
 his ear to the door and listened, so as to be quite sure, 
 should any sound arise, whether or not it came from 
 within. 
 
 The necessity of this precaution was soon apparent. 
 
 The same cry arose. 
 
 It still seemed to float upon the air, and to come from 
 all directions at the same moment. 
 
 But having his ears upon the door in tho manner we 
 have described, Blueskin was prepared to say with 
 certainty that the sound did not proceed from the interior 
 of that vault, at least. 
 
 Being satisfied of this, he proceeded to the next, and 
 went through precisely the same operation with the next 
 
 And so on with the next and the next, until he had 
 gone all down tho passage on one side, and reached the 
 door again which led into the rectangular-shaped chamber. 
 
 He was baffled yet, but still he was not disposed to give 
 up the search. 
 
 He felt if he did that the recollection of what ho had 
 heard would be continually present to his mind, and that 
 in daylight he would be utterly ashamed of himself. 
 
 Ho resolved to go up the other side of the passage, 
 knocking at every door. 
 
 He did so, and went half-way without meeting with 
 any better success. 
 
 Then he paused in doub. 
 
 He had struck three blows. 
 | He fancied he heard a response. 
 
 But so faint a one as to make it quite reasonable for him 
 to doubr. 
 
 He struck again at the same door, and this time with 
 greater vehemence than on the previous occasion. 
 
 A faint voice replied to him. 
 
 There could be no doubt about it. 
 
 " Some one has been immured alive," he thought. 
 
 Holding the light close to the door, he looked 
 down for the fastenings. 
 
 His eyes fell upon two bolts. 
 
 These he withdrew with nervous Uaste. 
 
 Then he attempted to pull the door opoo.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 889 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 It still remained fast. 
 
 A closer search now showed him a keyhole, and, before 
 he applied his picklock to it, he bethought himself of an 
 expedient which would set all his doubts at rest. 
 
 Eestoring his pistol to his pocket, ho stooped down and 
 applied his lips to the keyhole. 
 
 Then he spoke as follows — 
 
 "If there is anyone here in life who wishes to escape, 
 and have uttered suqh dismal groans to attract attention, 
 let him speak, for a friend is at hand who will lend him 
 all the assistance in his power." 
 
 Blueskin had no sooner spoken than, with the utmost 
 speed, he moved his mouth and placed his ear to the key- 
 hole, in order to catch, with as much distinctness as pos- 
 sible, the reply to his words. 
 
 It came. 
 
 The voice was feeble, but Blue skin could catch tee im- 
 port of the words which were spoken. 
 
 "Mercy — mercy!" cried this voice, in gasping, wailing 
 tones. " Have mercy upon me, and save me. Oh! have 
 mercy upon me. Save me — save me from all the horrors 
 of this dreadful place. You shall have gold — gold, ii you 
 will only save me." 
 
 " Patience," cried Blueskin, putting his mouth to the 
 keyhole again, and speaking in an assuring tone of voice. 
 " Have patience, and I will do my best to help you. I 
 have been chased to this spot by my foes, but I heard 
 your cri«s, and I will aid you. The door of the vault is 
 strong, and seems well secured, so that I may be some 
 time in making an entrance." 
 
 " I will be patient," 6aid the voice ; " but, oh ! lose no 
 more time than you can possibly help in freeing me from 
 this place. You do not know the horrors of it. Quick, 
 oh! quick." 
 
 " Patience." 
 
 " I am patient, but the vault is full of noisome reptiles, 
 and I have great trouble in keeping off the rats — they 
 swarm here. They surround me by thousands. I am 
 already bleeding in many places from the wounds which 
 their fangs have inflicted. Quick — oh ! quick." 
 
 "I will be quick," 
 
 There could be no mistaking the tones of genuine 
 horror with ■which these words were spoken by the 
 living inmate of the tomb. 
 
 As Blueskin heard them he felt the blood curdle in his 
 veins, and hra breath came short and thick. 
 
 But he did not allow these emotions to interfere with 
 his exertions to procure the prisoner's release. 
 
 He set about the task forthwith. 
 
 The first thing he did was to make a close inspection of 
 the keyhole by means of his wax taper. 
 
 Ho found the leek to be a very good one, but still he 
 did not despair of being able to shoot back the bolt with 
 the picklock. 
 
 What he had aires d J that night effected with this little 
 instrument will suffico to show the reader that he was 
 quite an expert in the use of it. 
 
 And so he was. 
 
 But, then, his expertness was the result of long practice. 
 
 He inserted the same hooked piece of steel into the lock 
 as he had made use of on former occasions. 
 
 The lock, however, appeared to have some intricate 
 mechanism, or there was some peculiarity in its construc- 
 tion, for Blueskin, after repeated trials, could make no 
 impression upon it. 
 
 And, during tho time which elapsed while Blueskin 
 was th os occupied, the occupant of the vault from time K) 
 time gave vent to the most doleful cries tad lamenta- 
 tions. 
 
 It was in vain that Blueskin exhorted him to bo patient, 
 and explained the difficulties he had to contend within 
 opening the door. 
 
 " The rats !" was the shrieking response. " The rats ! 
 They grow bolder every moment. I cannot keep them 
 off. They spring upon me in all directions. They *-<«• 
 my flesh." Off — off ! I cannot keep them off." 
 
 " A little more patience," said Blueskin, who still per- 
 severed with the use of the picklock in 6pite of the frequent 
 defeats. "A little more patience, and then all will be 
 well." 
 
 With this small amount of consolation the prisoner had 
 to be content. 
 
 Had he possessed at that moment anything else adasted 
 
 to unfastening tho lock, of course he would have made a 
 trial of it, but he had not. 
 
 If the picklock failed utterly, he did not know what L* 
 should do. 
 
 But he had faith in it, and continued to work on. 
 
 He knew that the lock might baffle him to tho last 
 moment, and then fly back. 
 
 A bullet through the keyhole would, perhaps, hava 
 shattered the lock, so much as to make it possible to burst 
 the door open ; but Blueskin was afraid to adopt such a 
 means as that, lest the sound should reach his enemies 
 and guide them to the spot. 
 
 To his satisfaction, the crooked piece of steel at last 
 caught in the bolt of the lock, and then a sudden twist oi 
 the wrist forced it back into its setting. 
 
 So far as the lock was concerned, the prisoner was froe 
 to emerge from the vault. 
 
 Blueskin said as much, and strove to push it open. 
 
 But it resisted all his efforts, and remained as immovable 
 as a rock. 
 
 CHAPTER OCLIX. 
 
 BLUESKIN RESCUES TUB STRANGER FROM THE VAULTS, 
 AND ILAS A CONTEST WITH THE RATS. 
 
 It was a minute or two before Blueskin could think what 
 was the reason the door would not open, now that appar- 
 ently all the fastenings were removed, and then, with a 
 sudden rush, the idea came across him that the door opened 
 outwardly into the passage, instead of inwardly into the 
 vault, as he had first supposed. 
 
 To have this idea and to try whether it was correct 
 seemed simultaneous occurrences, and they were nearly 
 so. 
 
 He hooked the piece of steel in the keyhole, and then 
 found that, as he pulled towards him, the door slowly 
 creaked open upon its hinges. 
 
 From the impatience which the person who was tho 
 inmate of that vault had all along displayed to have the 
 door opened and make his escape, Blueskin quite antici- 
 pated that he would make a sudden rush into the passage. 
 
 We say " he " because the tones of the voice were de- 
 cidedly masculine. 
 
 But nothing of the sort took place. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 Not a sound — not a movement came from the interior 
 of the vault. 
 
 As soon as he was cognizant of this, Blueskin carried 
 his hand to his forehead, and those strange notions which 
 had first seized upon his brain, when he heard the awful 
 cry, returned with redoubled foree. 
 
 What if, after all, he had been made the dupe of some 
 horrible spectre, for whom those dark and pestiferous 
 vaults were a congenial residence. 
 
 All that he had ever heard from time to time, and all 
 the horrors that his own imagination supplied him with, 
 rushed upon his brain, and, dizzy and sick, he once more 
 leaned against the wall. 
 
 But he was aroused from this by a scuffling noise, and 
 now and then a squeak. 
 
 Then the truth burst upon him at once. 
 
 " What a fool I am to stand here like this. I see it all 
 now, and, owing to my folly, my services may turn out to 
 be unavailing. The poor wretch is exhausted, and has 
 doubtless sunk upon the ground — perhaps he has fainted 
 with the joy of his release from 6uch an awful place. 
 That is the reason of the silonce, and now tho rats are 
 banqueting upon him", while he is powerless to keep them 
 
 QffI" 
 
 As ne spoke, Bluestrfn drew his sword, and rushed Into 
 the coll. 
 
 A scampering sound followed his appearance. 
 
 Then, holding the light above his head, he saw that 
 rats, in countless numbers, were racing over the floor. 
 
 It was a large vault into which Blueskin had pene- 
 trated. 
 
 On all sides of him were coffins placed upon shelves 
 ranged round the walls. 
 
 The floor of the vault was thickly covered with saw- 
 dust. 
 
 But it was tot upon these objects that Blueskin's gaz« 
 rested. 
 
 He took a passing glance at them merely.
 
 890 
 
 BLUESKIN: A BOMAXCE. 
 
 His principal attention — indeed, his whole attention was 
 riveted upon the object which lay at his feet. 
 
 It was the body of a man. 
 
 But so disfigured, so to- n, and in such a deplorable con- 
 dition, that it was only jy the loo&s of the general outline 
 that it could be presumed to be such- 
 It was dappled in blood, which had soaked into tho 
 sawdust all round, and clotted together. 
 
 The man lay upon his side, and exhibited not the least 
 traces of life or motion. 
 
 The rats, with r hich the vault appeared to be infested, 
 beat a precipitate retreat as soon as our friend appeared 
 with the light. 
 
 There was no p not one to be seen, though, doubtless, 
 from somo secure corner they were watching with their 
 keen, bright p, es the doings of the intruder who had dis- 
 turbed them from their feast. 
 
 Seeing this, Blueskin sheathed his sword, for he did not 
 know when he entered whether he should have to fight 
 a battle with these ferocious creatures. 
 
 But for the present they had beaten a retreat. 
 
 The little piece of wax taper which had been of such 
 assistance to Blueskin in his explorations was now almost 
 burnt out, so, before he did anything else, he took a new 
 piece from his pocket, and, lighting it, threw the other 
 p'ece away. 
 
 Then he stooped down, and proceeded to render the 
 poor miserable-looking object all the assistance in his 
 power. 
 
 An expression of loathing and disgust came over his 
 face as he did so. 
 
 The horror of the spectacle before him was almost more 
 than he could bear. 
 
 The body was that of a man about fifty years of age. 
 
 At least, Blueskin judged him to be so, from the fact 
 that his hair was thin and white, and his face, where it 
 was not clotted with blood, being wrinkled and sallow. 
 
 The clothing upon it was of an excellent material, but 
 not such as would be worn by the highest in the land, for, 
 in the times of which we write, a man's rank was tolerably 
 well indicated by his dress. 
 
 But it was torn in many places, and from all those 
 places where rents were visible blood was slowly oozing, 
 and soaking into the sawdust. 
 
 The hands, too, were dreadfully torn — doubtless in his 
 attempts to ward off the attacks of the rats. In fact, in 
 some places the llesh had been stripped away, and the 
 ghastly bones left bear. 
 
 It was a horrible spectacle. 
 
 "Is he dead?'' asked Blueskin, in a strange, hollow 
 whisper — " is he dead ?" 
 
 lie shrank for a moment from placing his hand upon 
 the man's heart and ascertaining, but he overcame that 
 feeling. 
 
 He felt it to be his duty to succour the unfortunate man 
 to the best of his ability. 
 
 He would expect it were he in his place, and so our 
 friend nerved himself to his disagreeable task. 
 
 If he had forsook him — if he left him to his fate — we 
 should have ceased to feel that respect for him which we 
 do at present. 
 
 The moment Blueskin touched the prostrate form, a 
 faint moan came from the blood-stained lips. 
 
 " He lives," said Blueskin — " he lives !" 
 
 Existence certainly did seem to cling to the pained and 
 emaciated carcass, but that might bo a different thing to 
 living. 
 
 Blueskin, however, considered it warranted him in taking 
 measures for his recovery to consciousness. 
 
 Accordingly he took out a small bottle of rum, and, with- 
 drawing the cork, allowed a considerable quantity to flow 
 into the man's mouth, whom he turned over on his back in 
 order to facilitate its passage clown his throat. 
 
 The result was rather startling. 
 
 The man gasped for breath, and, by the light oi the 
 taper, Blueskin could see he was rapidly turning black in 
 thef 
 
 He, therefore, turned him over onee more. 
 
 This produced a very violent fit of coughing, which 
 Blueskin assisted by banging the unfortunate man upon 
 his back. 
 
 But the result of all this was that the man recovered. 
 
 His mind wandered, for he only addressed Blueskin in 
 an incoherent manner, and implored for mercy and help, 
 
 while he fought numerous battles with legions of imaginary 
 rats. 
 
 "He will never get better here," thought Blueskin. " I 
 must get him out into the corridor. The air smells better 
 and fresher than it is here. I must do it." 
 
 The task which Blueskin thus sot himself was not a 
 very pleasant one. 
 
 The appearance of the poor emaciated wretch was hor- 
 rible to a degree. 
 
 Moreover, he was bleoding from many wounds. 
 
 But Blueskin did not shrink much. 
 
 Before lifting the body up, though, he plentifully 
 sprinkled it with sawdust, of which there was such a plen- 
 tiful supply on the floor of the vault. 
 
 This had the effect^ not only of stanching the blood, but 
 also of making the man somewhat more comfortable to 
 handle. 
 
 But it added considerably to the grotesque hideousness 
 of his appearance. 
 
 Having done this much, Blueskin stuck the piece of 
 taper on tho door-post, so that it shed a light partly into 
 the vault, and partly into the corridor beyond. Then, 
 lifting the almost insensible form, he carried it out into 
 the passage. " 
 
 But it would seem as though the rats had a strong ob- 
 jection to this proceeding on Blueskin's part. 
 
 They had submitted quietly enough to all his other 
 movements, having a natural dread of him, but no sooner 
 did he raise the body from the floor, than they every one 
 seemed to be endowed with fresh courage, and they made 
 an attack upon him. 
 
 Burdened as he was, Blueskin was unable to repel the 
 assault with anything like effect. 
 
 He turned his attention to getting out of the cell as 
 quickly as possible. 
 
 But this he found to be no easy matter. 
 
 Prom the floor, from the walls, from the ceiling, from 
 every nook and corner of the place, the rats poured out in 
 countless shoals. 
 
 They sprang upon Blueskin with surprising boldness, 
 fastening their claws and fang-like teeth both in his flesh 
 and wearing apparel. 
 
 He kicked witfi his feet, and kept them off as well as he 
 could, but they returned undaunted to the attack. 
 
 They sprang, too, upon the unconscious body which 
 Blueskin carried, and here they had their own way, for the 
 unfortunate mau could not defend himself in the slightest 
 degreo, though now and then a deep and hollow groan 
 would come from his lips. 
 
 Blueskin was bewildered. 
 
 No doubt the secret of the rats making the attack they 
 did upon him was in consequence of his having put down 
 the light, for, while he held that in his hand, they had 
 not offered to molest him. 
 
 Now they sprang at his face and neck, and inflicted 
 sharp wounds upon him. 
 
 He made a sudden dash forward to leave the vault, his 
 intention being to place ttie body on the floor of the pas- 
 sage, and then close the door of the vault quickly, so as to 
 shut as many of the vermin as he could in it. 
 
 But, unfortunately for him, while passing through the 
 doorway, he struck against the taper, which he had stuck 
 against the post. 
 
 It fell to the ground, and in a moment all was darkness. 
 
 A curse came from Blueskin's lips at this unlucky acci- 
 dent, and a scream, which sounded like one of exultation, 
 from the rats, who now renewed their attack with teu 
 times more fierceness than before. 
 
 But Blueskin did not lose his presence of mind. 
 
 Despite the danger of his situation, he recollected what 
 he had intended to do. 
 
 Quickly, then, he placed the body upon the floor of the 
 passage, and, though it was so dark, he caught hold of tho 
 door of the vault and swung it shut. 
 
 A horrible squeaking arose, for several rats were jammed 
 against the door-post. 
 
 Although the wax taper had fallen to the ground, and 
 doubtless by this time was devoured, yet Blueskin had 
 several others in his pocket. 
 
 So he produced them quickly, and soon had one lighted. 
 
 He drew his sword, 
 
 Of course, a great many rats had made their way 
 through the doorway with him, and, rendered desperate 
 by the attack which had been made upon them, no longer
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 391 
 
 allowed the feeble gleam of the taper to dismay them, but 
 presented a bold front. 
 
 One wave, however, of Blueskin's weapon did wonders 
 in the shape of dispersing them. 
 
 At last he routed them altogether, and then he renewed 
 his attentions to the wounded man. 
 
 The comparatively fresh air which filled the passage — 
 fresh in comparison with the air in the vault — assisted 
 very much to recover him, besides which, the stimulant 
 which Blueskin had so unsparingly administered began to 
 exert its effects. 
 
 In a little time he managed to sit up, and support his 
 back against the wall. 
 
 Then he partook of some more spirit, and, oyeuing his 
 eyes, looked with an expression of intelligence into the 
 face of his saviour. 
 
 He groaned now and then, for he evidently suffered 
 much agony from the rat-bites he had received. 
 
 Blueskin could speak from experience as to their painful 
 character. 
 
 But he thought not of himself. 
 
 Ho gave his undivided attention to the man he had 
 rescued from the vault. 
 
 He every moment got better and better. 
 
 Blueskin spoke to him soothingly and cheerfully. 
 
 "Recover yourself as much as you can. You are 
 saved." 
 
 "Saved?" 
 
 " Tes, saved from the vault. Saved from all the horrors 
 of such a death as you were menaced with." 
 
 " Oh ! Heaven, yes." 
 
 " Believe me, all is well." 
 
 "All?" 
 
 " Yes. I am but a poor fugitive, hunted by the minions 
 of the law, but all that I can do for you I will. I was 
 forced by my foes to seek shelter in this spot, and I heard 
 your groans while hiding. You are saved, and, when you 
 feel well enough to accompany me, I will do my best to 
 lead you from this place." 
 
 " A thousand thanks !" 
 
 " You speak better than you did." 
 
 "Do I?" 
 
 " You do, indeed." 
 
 " I feel stronger." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it." 
 
 " But oh ! the anguish which I suffer from my wounds 
 is almost more than I can bear " 
 
 " Have patience." 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " You have escaped by a hair's-breadth the most hor- 
 rible death you can conceive, that of being eaten up 
 alive." 
 
 " By rats ?" 
 
 " Yes, by rats. 1 have had a serious battle with them, 
 but in the end proved myself the conqueror. I have 
 beaten them all off. But," come, are you now able to 
 rise ?" 
 
 " I think so, if you will assist me." 
 
 " Come, then." 
 
 CHAPTER OOLX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND THE STRANGER ESCAPE FROM WESTMIN- 
 STER ABBEY, AND THE FORMER COMMITS A ROBBERY 
 ON THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 Blueskin assisted his strange companion to his i'eet. 
 
 But it taxed his strength to the utmost to preserve an 
 erect attitude, and he was forced to lean rather heavily 
 upon our friend's arm. 
 
 " Take me from this place," he said — " oh, take me 
 Irom this place ! The very atmosphere here is full of 
 horror. Take mo from it. For the service you have 
 rendered me you shall be well rewarded." 
 
 "I will not refuse your bounty." said Blueskin, 
 "because, to be frank with you, it will be very acceptable 
 to me. Still, I should like you to understand that I did 
 not aid you merely from a calculation of receiving a 
 reward for so doing." 
 
 " I know — I know." 
 
 " I was hunted to the death, and, as the only resoui'ce 
 I had, sought shelter in this venerable pile. I gained a 
 staircase, which led me to these vaults, and while explor- 
 ing their gloomy recesses I heard a groan ; at first I was 
 
 terrified and full of fears, but I recovered myself, and— 
 you know the rest." 
 
 " I do know the rest, my brave deliverer, and I can, 
 never recompense you for what you have done ; without 
 your interposition and aid, I should, by this time, have 
 been a mangled corpse." 
 
 " Do not think of that. You have asked me to lead 
 you from this place." 
 
 " Yes, oh ! yes." 
 " I will try." 
 
 "Try?" 
 
 " Yes. Did I not tell yon I had been hinted here ?" 
 
 " You did." • 
 
 " That argues, then, that I am a stranger here, which 
 is just the fact of the case." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " But I have reason to think that I have succeeded in 
 throwing them altogether off the scent. Consequently 
 my next proceeding will be to get out of this building." 
 
 " And you will let me accompany you ?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then you shall name your own reward." 
 
 While speaking, the strangely assorted pair made their 
 way along the passage leading to the bottom of the steps. 
 
 It will be seen that Blueskin was very frank with this 
 stranger. 
 
 But his reason was, he felt exceedingly curious to learn 
 something of the history of this man he had rescued, and 
 he thought candour would beget candour. 
 
 The stranger, however, never offered to say a word 
 about himself. 
 
 Nor could Blueskin well ask him, considering the 
 manner in which they had become acquainted. 
 
 He waited, for he was in hopes that ere long his 
 curiosity would be gratified. 
 
 The top of the staircase was reached without the 
 occurrence of any particular incident, the time being 
 occupied in conversation of too unimportant a nature to 
 be put before the reader. 
 
 Upon reaching the door leading into the Abbey, Blue- 
 skin unlocked it as he had done on the former occasion, 
 and passed through. 
 
 They were now in the body of the building. 
 
 Morning was close at hand, and through the numerous 
 windows there came faint beams of light, sufficient to 
 enable our friends to see their way without the little wax 
 taper, which he accordingly extinguished. 
 
 " We will get out, if we can, at the first door we come 
 to," Blueskin said. 
 
 His companion assented. 
 
 Like most other places, the doors in Westminster Abbey 
 were secured more against anyone entering than any- 
 one leaving the building. 
 
 A lock was all that interposed, and Blueskin, having 
 first reconnoitred through a side window, and ascer- 
 tained that none of his enemies were about, pushed the 
 bolt of the lock back with so little trouble that his strange 
 companion was scarcely aware of what had been done. 
 
 The fresh, cool, morning air blew gratefully upon their 
 faces, and did a great deal towards thoroughly reviving 
 the wounded man. 
 
 But he presented a terrible spectacle. 
 
 Ho was covered with sawdust coagulated with blood, 
 or whero it was not stained with the ensanguined fluid, 
 the white showed out in all the more horrible contrast. 
 
 Blood was flowing, too, from all parts of his body, and 
 his clothing was torn to shreds. 
 
 Such was the singular-looking object which emerged 
 with Blueskin into the light of day from the vaults of 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 The stranger, whoever he might be, was in a most 
 deplorable state of weakness, and Blueskin felt that he 
 should have to support him to whatever place he was 
 going, for ho could not have walked unaided. 
 
 But how could Blueskin go with him without incurring 
 the utmost danger ? 
 
 Even at that early hour people would be abroad, and 
 curiosity would be excited the moment they caught sight 
 of the bleeding blood-stained object by the side of which 
 Blueskin walked. 
 
 The latter was, of course, in great dread of detection, 
 and was obliged to bo exceedingly careful how ho showed 
 himself. 
 
 And yet Blueskin did not like to mention this
 
 mi 
 
 DLUEBIII.V : A rtOMANCa. 
 
 But the stranger thought of it. 
 
 " Did you not toll mo," ho finid, " that you were hunted 
 by the myrmidons of the law ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " la it not, theD, very injudicious of you to 6how your- 
 ( self in broad daylight ?" 
 
 "It is, very." 
 
 "How do you know where the officers are searching 
 for you ?" 
 
 " I cannot tell." 
 
 " I aeo we must part. I will never consent to bringing 
 you into trouble. You have done me good service, «-nd 1 
 am grateful to you for it. I cannot consent to your ac- 
 companying mo any further. Leave mo hero; I shall 
 eoon get assistance. 
 
 "I cannot leave you." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " You we unfit to be left. But I have a thought." 
 
 "A thought?" 
 
 "Yes. You doubtless have some place to which you 
 wish to go. Is it not so?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then I will hail a hackney-coach, and you can direct 
 the man to drive you wherever you think proper." 
 
 "Many thanks." 
 
 " Does that arrangement suit you ?" 
 
 "Admirably." 
 
 " Good, then. We have not far to go before we come 
 to a stand for hackney carriages. There we can hire 
 one." 
 
 "Thanks: and now, as we go along, I will tell you 
 that which doubtless you are vory curious to know. You 
 have not said so, but J guess it. You wonder how I came 
 to be in the vaults as you found me." 
 
 " I have wondered. 
 
 a I will toll you. At least, all that I am allowed 
 to toll you, for there is inuoli which involves others besides 
 myself, and therefore I am obliged to keep silent on those 
 heads. Hut, as I said before, 1 will satisfy your curio.-ity 
 by tolling you all that I dare tell you." 
 
 "Do not put yourself to any inconvenience on that 
 account," said Blueskin. " You need not tell me anything. 
 Jt is by no means compulsory for you to do so. Aa I say, 
 the circumstances under which I found you have aroused 
 my curiosity and wonder to the highest degri > .'' 
 
 " Yon shall- be satisfied — to some extent, at any rate. 
 You would like to know how I, a living man, came to be 
 an inmate, or rather prisoner, in one of the vaults below 
 the old Abbey of Westminster." 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 " I am tho victim of a plot— one of the foul' 
 that one human being ever concocted against another." 
 
 Blueskin remained silent, and waited for the stranger 
 k> pro- 
 
 "I have a foe," he said. "A bitter, uncompromising 
 enemy. Under what circumstances I incurred his resent- 
 ment does not matter. Let it suffice it 13 so. He swore 
 to have his revenge upon me." 
 
 " Ay — ay." 
 
 » It was only indirectly that I heard this. Personally 
 to my face, I mean — he seemed my best friend. Wo 
 were always friendly together, and I never perceived the 
 ice in his words or actions, so that, naturally 
 enough, I refused to believe what had been told me con- 
 cerning his words when I was not present. I disregarded 
 them altogether. Now I find how wrong I wa3 to do so." 
 ikin was deeply inter* 
 
 " I am all attention," he said. 
 
 " This seeming friend of mine, but bitter foe as he was 
 in reality, continued on the most intimate and friendly 
 terms with me. lie had a reason for that. It was that 
 he could lull me into a false security, dissipate my sus- 
 picions, and so bo all the easier able to achieve hi3 re- 
 venge. I will tell you what ho did.'' 
 
 The stranger pawed, for he found the effort to speak a 
 painful and difficult one; however, he did not wait long, 
 but continued : 
 
 "I see, now," he said, looking around him, "that 
 another day ha3 just dawned. I have, then, been upwards 
 ity-f our hours an inmate of that vault in which 
 you found me — how much longer, I cannot tslL I seem 
 to have been there an ago. But let that pass. Yonder 
 is the stand for the hackney coaches, is there not ?" 
 
 u Yes." 
 
 " I must be quick, then." 
 
 While this little conversation waa proceeding, th« 
 strangely-assortod pair made their way from tho Abbey to 
 that street loading from Westminster Bridge to Ht 
 James's Park, and where there waa, aa there is now, k 
 long rank of hackney carriages waiting for hire. 
 
 In a more rapid voice, tho Granger continued : 
 
 "This false friend of mine, against whom I had 
 scarcely any suspicion, despite tho cautions which had 
 been whispered in my ears, invited me out with him upon 
 a rather peculiar errand. 
 
 " I consented, and accompanied him. 
 
 " That errand was to the vaulta beneath Westminster 
 Abbey. 
 
 " My enemy is a man sprung from a goodly stock. J'or 
 centuries has that vault in which I waa made a prisoner 
 o of his ancestors' remains. 
 
 "The 0x011 o that he made for his vLit to this strange 
 place was that ho required to look at the inscription upoc 
 one of the coffins for an important purpose, and he wi 
 me to accompany him, because it was necessary he should 
 have a witness, and he selected me, so ho said, because 
 he felt that I was the only one of all his numerous frienda 
 in whom he could put trust." 
 
 11 Indeed ?" 
 
 " Yes, that waa the 6pecious plea with which he deluded 
 me. I fell headlong and blindly into tho snare thus art- 
 fully laid for me. I consented to accompany him in the 
 capacity of witness of what took place. 
 
 '• We entered the Abbey together, and then, without 
 having any of the officials of the building for his guide, 
 ho lod me down a flight of stoop stono St 
 
 " He was provided with a small latteru, which he ill u- 
 ted. 
 
 "In this way wo descended the steps, and presently 
 gained a narrow stone passage, on both sides of which 
 were numerous iron doors, which he told me opened into 
 the various v.. 
 
 " At length we paused before one of tho doors, and he 
 Intimated to me that we had reached the end cf our 
 j 
 
 " At tho same time he handed me the lantern, sod 
 requested rno to hold it while ho felt in nis pocket for tho 
 key of the vault. 
 
 " Of course I complied with his rca ue:-.t, and took the 
 
 "After a brief search he produced the key, and fitting 
 , turned it back in the look. 
 
 '• .My tooth chattered, and I felt a deadly dullness all 
 over me, mingled with the apprehension that some dread- 
 ful thing was about to happen. 
 
 "But I attributed this feeling to tho different objects 
 with which I was surrounded— I conceived that the nature 
 of the place I waa ia would produce such a sensation as I 
 have described. 
 
 " My treacherous friend swung the door open, and stood 
 aside a little. 
 
 "Having the light, I supposed ho wanted mo to 
 first, so I crossed the threshold without hesitation, iu the 
 full anticipation that ho was about to follow me. 
 
 "And to a certain extent he did 
 
 •' But no sooner did ho find that I fairly stcod within 
 the vault than, springing back, he closed the door with a 
 clang, leaving me i 
 
 " He was easily able to do this, for he had never let go 
 I of the key — that key which the next moment I fa 
 I turned round in the loci: and the bolt shot. 
 
 ■' I v. mer. 
 
 'At first I could not believe the reality of what I 1 
 taken place, I '00 horrible-, but the sawdo - 
 
 the floor, the coffins in tho niche : . and, above all, the voice 
 of my foe, were too real for doubt to any longer hold a place 
 within my bosom. 
 
 M Then I thought it wa3 merely a trick he was pb\ 
 me in order to test my courage, but when I heara tL>.> 
 
 . that idea, like the preceding 
 was dJ 
 
 changed was his voice that I scarcely recognised 
 it — it seemed like the voice of a fiend. 
 
 " He had, I fancy, stooped until his month waa on a ioveJ 
 with tho keyhole, an 1 it was through this orifice that the- 
 sound came. 
 
 " Then he poured into rny y, and con- 
 
 cluded with saying that I waa now past all human
 
 BLTTXSKJN : A ROHAHCB. 
 
 393 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS ARE ATTACKED BY THE THAMES PIRATES.] 
 
 bat I must die in that vault a lingering death of starva 
 ion, that it would be in vain' for me to shriek and cry for 
 lelp, beeause no human ears would hear my cries, as 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXI. 
 
 BLUESKTN DETERMINES TO MAKE AN EXCURSION UPON 
 THE HIGHWAY. 
 
 &tt3£S13X?i££$. t^LZ £ »• -"rev?"* <* ™ 3 ' «• which.be la,, 
 .lished, and he left^e toV, fate. 'tSttrl... _. „..,., 
 
 The stand for hackney carriages was reached. 
 
 He panted for breath, and he wiped the perspiration 
 
 " In vain I shrieked and implored his mercy. I suppli- 
 
 ated him and used every argument which I thought from" his face 
 vould induce him to set me at libertv. But all in vain, 
 
 hVufebl^^ *« lue ""aoraxnary narrative ne naa jus 
 
 S m^wlhp " WheD J beard ltj and tLen he B,ueskin ^^ed with an all-absorbing interest. 
 
 itrode away along the passage. It seemed to ]ift him> SQ to ^ above _ 
 
 i Jbtenea to tne sound of his retreating footsteps until, troubles, and produced that effect upon his mind which a 
 
 hougn 1 strained my bearing to the utmost, I could hear romance will at times produce 
 
 f m t?° .?F er - * D ? ed D0 , t describe my sufferings--they And, indeed, the storv was well calculated to produce 
 
 vere nomoie. 1 ou have already seen a part ; providence, such an effect upon any one who listened to it. 
 
 ■ e^r, interposed^ and prevented the consummation of It possessed all the elements needed in a relation of 
 
 It stood upon it in huge clustering beads. 
 
 To the extraordinary narrative he had just related, 
 
 his own 
 
 ic much villainy. You are the instrument of that myste 
 -iou3 power, and I have escaped the most awful of all 
 leaths. 
 
 any wild and wonderful adventure. 
 
 Moreover, Blueskin had the advantage of hearing th» 
 wtrcb from the lips of the man himself. 
 
 No. 50.
 
 " We are at our destination now," he said, " and I must 
 bid you farewell." 
 
 " Farewell," said the stranger. 
 
 " Shall I call a coach ? " 
 
 " If you do not mind the trouble." 
 
 Blueskin held un his hand and beckoned 023 ft? the 
 driver.-;, who were all on the alert for a fare. 
 
 " I need not prolong my painful story," continued the 
 stranger. " You must have already heard enough to 
 make you comprehend the circumstances uuder which I 
 became a tenant of that liviug tomb. The next impor- 
 tant event was my liberation by yourself, for which I shall 
 be able to he sufficiently grateful. 
 
 "Do not mention that," said Blueskin, "for I cannot 
 see that I have done anything so deserving of your grati- 
 tude. Chance alone took me to those vaults, and it was 
 simply a duty to release you." 
 
 " I like the spirit in which you look at the affair. And, 
 now, one word before we part." 
 
 "Willingly," said Blueskin, but, as he spoke, he cast 
 an uneasy glance around, for it was getting light now 
 with extreme rapidity, and he did not know what prying 
 eye might be faxed upon him and observing all his 
 actions. 
 
 The stranger noticed the look. 
 
 " I will not keep you. In the first place, here is a 
 small purse, containing the bulk of the money I have 
 about me. Take it, I pray you, and use it in the manner 
 you may consider most to your advantage." 
 
 Speaking these words, the stranger took a small 
 leather pocket-book from his pocket, and, thrusting it 
 into his hand, entered the hackney-carriage and ordered 
 the coachman to drive on, thus not affording Blueskin an 
 opportunity of refusing to receive his bounty. 
 
 Our old friend stood on the footpath and watched the 
 crazy vehicle take its way up the street in the direction of 
 Whitehall. 
 
 He turned away then, and with a confused feeling about 
 his brain, muttered — 
 
 " What a strange adventure. I cannot banish the inci- 
 dents from my mind, and somehow I feel a presentiment 
 that sooner or later I shall hear something more about it. 
 Surely, never in the pnges of old romance is anything so 
 strange to be found. Upon what a mere chance depended 
 his liberation from the vault ! Had I not been in a 
 manner of speaking forced to take shelter there, he would 
 have remained its tenant still, and then, some many 
 years hence, when the vault was opened, the curiosity of 
 the public would have been aroused by the discovery of a 
 skeleton in it; but there would havo been nothing left to 
 tell the talc ! " 
 
 Blueskin once more looked around him. 
 
 The sun was already high in the heavens, and many 
 people were astir. 
 
 " I must direct my thoughts to my own safety," he 
 said. " This money reaches my hands most fortunately, 
 for I have much need of it. Where shall I find Jack and 
 poor Edgworth Bess? Can it be possible they have 
 fallen into the hands of the arch fiend, Jonathan Wild, 
 who haunts us like 6ome ferocious animal to the death. 
 Where shall I look for them ? " 
 
 That was a question to which it was not a very easy 
 matter to frame a reply. 
 
 " It is a forlorn hope," continued Blueskin, "but it is 
 the only one. I must go down to the river bank where I 
 last left them, and see if there now remains any traces of 
 their presence." 
 
 Having come to the determination of doing something, 
 Blueskin felt much lighter at heart, and with something 
 of his ordinary spirit he directed his steps towards the 
 river's side. 
 
 Ho made his approach carefully, however, for ho was 
 not without the reasonable dread that some, of his 
 enemies or Jonathan Wild's spies were about. 
 
 Blueskin was always uneasy upon that subject. 
 
 The few remarks he made to Ross, the landlord, will 
 enublo the reader to understand the state of his mind. 
 
 The conviction had laid hold of him that the Uiwaf- 
 :id got up some elaborate system of watching. 
 
 He fancied that every movement he made was noticed 
 by some one. 
 
 if it was not so, how could the thief-taker so often and 
 so correctly arrive at his precise hiding-place. 
 
 it was a very disagreeable fjsifng to have, and even at 
 
 that moment Blueskin could not divest himself of the 
 idea that unfriendly eyes were upon him. 
 
 That, however, might have been fancy merely. 
 
 He made, however, a considerable detour, leaving 
 Westminster Abbey on his left, and gained the banks of 
 the Thames, somewhere about the spot where Vauxhall 
 Bridge now stands. 
 
 Having done this, he walked along close to the water's 
 G'iire. 
 
 The tide was out, and on the muddy shore were several 
 people, all searching in the soft ooze for anything that 
 mipdit be of the slightest value. 
 
 From these Blueskin took a hint. 
 
 He determined to make his way along, pretending to 
 do as they did. 
 
 The plan was a good one, and well calculated to deceive 
 auy one who was on the watch for him. 
 
 And, as the reader is well aware, there were spies of 
 Jonathan Wild's looking very close after him indeed. 
 
 In this way Blueskin advanced, though somewhat 
 slowly, until he reached the identical spot where he had 
 landed. 
 
 He recognised it again instantly, and was sure he had 
 made no mistake. 
 
 He was not without the faint lingering hope that he 
 might find Jack Sheppard and his companion waiting for 
 him. 
 
 Ho thought they might have been compelled to push 
 off, but, if so, ho fancied they would not givo him up 
 without, at least, an effort to regain him. 
 
 Jack might easily contrive, he thought, to keep tho 
 boat hovering somewhere about that spot, and have kept 
 a sharp look out for him. 
 
 And this is, doubtless, the very course which Jack would 
 hare adopted had circumstances permitted him to do so, 
 but we must leave that point until we cau turn our atten- 
 tion exclusively to him. 
 
 In the meantime we have to deal with Blueskin. 
 
 He stood upright, then, and, shading his eyes with his 
 baud, looked long and earnestly at the different craft upon 
 the river. 
 
 The sun was shining brightly upou tho water, tho sur- 
 face of which was broken up into numberless wavelets, 
 the crests of every one of which reflected his beams 
 brightly, and made the bosom of the Thames appear as 
 though studded with diamonds. 
 
 But, however beautiful a spectacle this might have pre- 
 sented to an ardent admirer of nature, it bad a great dis- 
 advantage so far as Blueskin was concerned. 
 
 It prevented him seeing distinctly. 
 
 But nowhere upon the sparkling surface could he dis- 
 tinguish that which he so much longed to see. 
 
 In vain he turned his eyes round and round, and looked 
 in every direction, not a trace of the treasure-laden wherry 
 could he see. 
 
 At length, with an aching at the heart, a choking een- 
 satiou in his throat, and the dread that some gigantic evil 
 had happened, he turned away. 
 
 Where should he go next ? 
 
 What should he do ? 
 
 Those were the questions vhich Blueskin asked him- 
 self, as satisfied that Jack and Edgworth Bess were not 
 upon the river, he turned away. 
 
 He was badly situated to search for the missing ones 
 since he was every moment in dread of capture. 
 
 But find them he must, no matter how great the risk. 
 
 With a slow step he walked across the muddy shore of 
 the river in the direction of Westminster. 
 
 The idea in his nri^ was, that Jonathan Wild had 
 managed to surprise aWl capture them while they sat in 
 the boat. 
 
 At that moment he thought they might be prisoners in 
 the dungeons beneath Wild's house. 
 
 But how was he to ascertain that ? 
 
 Ho couid uot walk to tho thief-taker's residence and 
 /:<<■ [he 
 
 N the fir.-', place, however, he made up his mind that 
 ke would go somewhere and obtain a thorough change of 
 clothing. 
 
 Alter that' ho would get a meal somewhere, for he 
 could feel himself sick and giddy for want of food. 
 
 In Westminster, clothes' shops are to be found in 
 pleuty, so he did not have far to go to find what he 
 wanted.
 
 > ■■ ■ a noMAircB. 
 
 m 
 
 Entering (■ a raft o< 
 
 /-in Jin'l 
 
 ■if in tbem. 
 
 VVIji-i, 
 
 tihle ,'m'l !i decided impi 
 
 He paid tbe in from tbe pone i 
 
 1 1 i in . 
 kin's nest vinit ffU to a coi 
 irbere 1 1 <■; made ■ hearty but homely meal, which 
 it iroi Id nf pood and reri e bed - ; . i mi ' ily. 
 
 " I will'get a bed bere," be the ight. f am 
 noe'l of sleep, and if I show bt ' cm. 
 
 liable t/< immediate i gb', and 
 
 th'-n I will 000 whether 1 • ' ' I ' ' ■ 10 ' l .'ir 
 
 whereaboute." 
 Tliin was an prudent and aem ible a cour30 a* he 00 iM 
 
 r a few 
 
 ■ 
 
 room. 
 J F *-- 1 ined nrit.il 'J'iftlf. 
 
 iii tbe room were beginning to g 
 
 ■ 
 
 e tor a long time. 
 
 as rested both bodily and mentally. 
 Before be left tbe bed-room be w« ihedl himself 
 
 fully in cold 
 
 be deaeenoc . . and loft 
 
 ■ 
 
 He bad met with no disturbance yet of any kind, and 
 therefore be rery justly came I 
 had not. bean aeen \>y any of Wiid'» spi 
 
 • id be well. 
 
 in no-.*/ directed bis foot' 
 teas, Jonathan Wilo? 
 . 
 
 . I: when be reached it. 
 
 of the gtrect an-1 
 up at. ' dilapidated residence. 
 
 .<: of the Rmall 
 
 .ling was un- 
 
 g to be g front of 
 
 Wild*! i 
 
 I in front of that 1 
 . •/ the door 0] 
 inetii.' kin drew 1 dowofa 
 
 deep doorway, which fortunately happened to be just 
 behind him. 
 
 . three torm , 
 . 
 
 I ' n. 
 The other I I . ■ 
 
 fikin klM 
 
 bief-taker. 
 
 rat now 
 I by Wild, 1 
 mand to himself. 
 
 n heard Jonathan «av in 
 his deep I 
 
 " They v if! be 1 ere in a minute, if yon pl'-a**, fir," 
 said Quilt Arnold, respectfully. 
 
 At tibia ' '-' hoofs arose 
 
 clearly a] ;,.tair. 
 
 moment tbe Round ir.cr 
 
 a sndden dash, a troop of boi 
 tnber, pulled up with a dash 
 
 I without rid 
 
 lief-taker was 
 about, to set "ion*. 
 
 was tho obj ild not t«IL 
 
 line out, ar.*i 
 two hones provide I foi I 
 " Are vou all here ? " asked Wild, turning ro 
 
 "Forward, flteS] follow rri. And recollect thi*. 
 Then is tw< apiece for every one of you if you 
 
 With 1 Wild and !• 
 
 Bloatkia folio- able, 
 
 m turn to the left op A. I reet. 
 
 " What ' said. " 8 1 
 
 Jonathan • 
 
 ■ 
 ; 
 by SO 
 
 may ; enrity. What, sbs I 
 
 dor I w Wild, I 1 
 
 v, in be beat, li': 
 
 J shall be at hi ad to lend them my assistance ia tbe 
 ed." 
 
 PTEB CCLXII. 
 
 a r r a '-i a m 
 
 A.'/ 
 
 I 
 
 ; and 
 
 l-i Wild'a bo 
 
 vherr 
 
 ■ 
 
 He must keep < 
 
 eloae behind 
 
 Main remembered thai 
 
 ..i.-e a 
 
 Jfe went and tried. 
 
 Bo waa answered in tbeafl 
 was no time 
 
 e time before be was read 
 
 - 
 
 -J hi* band. 
 At this, bowerer, B 
 10, as ho ve. 
 
 ee. 
 
 to his horec's sides, he set forward 
 .lop. 
 ■ bone appeared to be 1 
 . in eapttal I 
 
 was 
 in pursuit, I; butt, an'l ere 
 
 he would pa 
 
 I wag still. 
 
 and it waa not nnt./l he 
 ,rly ten miles that tho t 
 
 ■ 
 
 He 
 
 on SO blindly 
 
 Stl.. ot feel tncfrned to torn 1 -all, 
 
 jaui/ari ea might 
 fore him. 
 How was 
 
 He made up bis rnind to stop the next paggeng 
 
 them. 
 
 Scarcely had be made np hi? mind to this 1 
 before hirn in the darkness n » two faint 
 
 twinkling lighte, ! Larger and 1 
 
 «i»ra. 
 " A vohielo," ho said. " . v ■'-.-, r I shall know. '< 
 .'■ 
 the r< 'oil me whether 
 
 . 8 band of twefre or foe 
 With a be( forward to 
 
 meet | 
 
 I 
 
 . -/fere 
 barnesse'J to it. 
 " Hoy '■ " be eriedj, in a loud voice. " Hoy ! stop."
 
 396 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 The driver, hearing these cries, so far from complying 
 with them, only lashed his horse to make him go the 
 faster, and he also took care to hold the whip in an 
 aggressive sort of way, as though he would strike any <*oe 
 with it who attempted to impede his progress. 
 
 ButTJlueskin was not to be baulked thus. 
 
 Turning his horse round, he galloped along by the side 
 of the vehicle, which he now saw was a post-chaise, and 
 cried — 
 
 " Halt — halt, I say. I want to speak to you." 
 
 But the driver took no more notice of this appeal than 
 he did of the former one. If anything, he lashed the 
 horses faster. 
 
 Blueskin was now by the side of the chaise, and his ears 
 were saluted with another sound which reached his plainly 
 above the trampling of the horses' feet and the grinding 
 of the carriage wheels. 
 
 It was some one in a faint, smothered sort of voice cry- 
 ing for help. 
 
 This, coupled with the behaviour of the driver, made 
 Blueskin feel certain that something wrong was going on, 
 and he determined to put a stop to it if possible. 
 
 His nature would not have permitted him to go by. 
 
 " Halt," he cried again, still galloping by the side of 
 the chaise. " Halt, I say, or, if you do not, you are a 
 dead man." 
 
 Still no notice was taken. 
 
 Provoked by this behaviour, Blueskin drew a pistol and 
 fired it over the coachman's head. 
 
 He was rather surprised by the result. 
 
 The man uttered a dismal howl, and fell off his seat at 
 once. 
 
 By a sudden movement, aud an exertion of the great 
 strength which he possessed, Blueskin grasped the reins 
 of the horse on the off-side, and turned his head round. 
 
 The effect of this was to stop the chaise at once. 
 
 At this moment the window was let down violently 
 from the inside, and a voice, furious with passion, cried 
 out — 
 
 " What's all this ? Drive on, coachman. Drive on. 
 Don't stop for anything. Drive on, I say." 
 
 " He is past that, I fancy," said Blueskin, trotting up. 
 
 " Ah ! a highwayman ! " cried the voice at the chaise 
 window. " Take that." 
 
 Bang went a pistol, and Blueskin felt something hot fly 
 past his cheek. 
 
 He was safe from that shot at least. 
 
 With all the coolness in the world he pulled a pistol 
 from his pocket, and, cocking it, presented it full at the 
 face of the man inside the chaise who had fired. 
 
 He shrank back. 
 
 Blueskin saw his advantage. 
 
 In another second he was at the window. 
 
 The man shrank still further back, until he sat down 
 upon the seat. 
 
 Blueskin projected the pistol into the chaise until he 
 could almost touch him with the muzzle of it. 
 
 " Now, sir," he said, " another word, another move- 
 ment, and I will scatter your brains for you. I cannot 
 possibly miss such a good aim." 
 
 The face of the man turned a shade whiter, whether 
 with rage or fear is not certain. Perhaps the effect was 
 produced by a combination of the two. 
 
 Blueskin s tone of voice and the expressio n of his face 
 let him know he had got a man to deal with who would 
 stand no trifling. 
 
 The same muffled voice again smote upon our friend's 
 ear, and, looking in the direction from which the voice 
 proceeded, he saw, huddled up into a corner, something 
 which his vision, assisted by his imagination, made him 
 think was a woman. 
 
 He opened the door of the chaise, and said — * 
 
 "If, as I suspect, there is some one in here against 
 their will, come out — be free." 
 
 An uneasy movement followed these words, bnt th9 
 huddled-up figure got no nearer to the door. 
 
 " She must be securely bound and unable to move," 
 thought Blueskin. 
 
 He changed his pistol from his right to his left hand, 
 and then, leaning as far as he could into the carriage, 
 caught hold of the dusky-looking figure. 
 
 lie had to put forth considerable strength to move it, 
 for it seemed to him to have no powers of volition of its 
 own. 
 
 However, he managed to drag it towards the door of 
 the chaise. 
 
 The man now roused himself so far as to attempt an 
 interference, but he was promptly checked by Blueskin 
 showing him the pistol. 
 
 Our friend was now quite sure that the huddled-up 
 figure was a female. 
 
 She appeared to be tied both hand and foot. 
 
 Round her head and covering her mouth was a thick 
 black scarf. 
 
 This was not tied so tightly as to impede her breathing, 
 or even altogether to stop her speech, for she could speak 
 in a muffled tone. 
 
 Blueskin encircled this form (which from its slender- 
 ness must surely have been that of some young girl) with 
 his arm, and gently drew her up on to the saddle with 
 him. 
 
 But he soon found he was unable to keep her in this 
 position, and at the same time maintain his influence over 
 the man, so he was compelled to let her slip to the 
 ground, which he did in the gentlest manner he possibly 
 could. 
 
 He next dismounted himself, and proceeding at once 
 to the chaise door, he compelled the man who was inside 
 to alight. 
 
 He was evidently a coward, and destitute of all spirit 
 to defend himself, or he would never have submitted to 
 Blueskin in the way he did. 
 
 But that is no more than any one might expect, for 
 who but a dastardly coward would bind a young girl as 
 he had done, and force her to accompany him against her 
 will. 
 
 The threat of a bullet seemed to have a powerful influ- 
 ence upon him. 
 
 With great speed and dexterity our old friend removed 
 the scarf from around the lady's head and face. 
 
 He found it was of black silk, and of tolerable length. 
 
 It was just the thing he wanted. 
 
 Before the abductor of the young girl was exactly 
 aware of what he was about, Blueskin had formed a slip- 
 knot in one end of the scarf, and thrown it over his head. 
 
 He drew it until it fitted just tightly round his neck. 
 
 This done, Blueskin secured the other end to one of the 
 spokes in the hind wheel of the post-chaise. 
 
 To be sure, the man could have released himself by un- 
 tying one of the knots, but that was a work of time, and 
 before he could succeed in doing that, Blueskin would be 
 ready for him. 
 
 Our old friend would have taken more pains to bind 
 him, but that the condition of the young girl attracted all 
 his attention. 
 
 She seemed to have fallen into a swoon. 
 
 Moreover, now that the scarf was removed, the light of 
 the carriage-lamps shone full upon her face, and showed 
 it to be one of rare beauty. 
 
 She was young, too. 
 
 It was not in human nature not to feel interested in 
 such charms. 
 
 Therefore he left the man as we have shown, and turned 
 his attention to recovering her. 
 
 The only means he had at his command were such as a 
 pocket-flask of spirit afforded him. 
 
 A small quantity of this he poured into her mouth, and 
 also chafed her hands and temples with it. 
 
 He was soon rewarded for his trouble by seeing her 
 open her eyes and look around her. 
 
 Tlie swoon was not a very serious one, and she did not 
 relapse. 
 
 She was still bound, so Blueskin hastened to release 
 her. 
 
 In a feeble voice, then, for she seemed greatly ex- 
 hausted, she spoke. 
 
 " Help — help ! " she cried. " Save me — oh ! save me 
 from him — that dreadful man ! Oh ! I pray you save me 
 from him ! " 
 
 " Be under no apprehensions on that head," said Blue- 
 skin, soothingly. " You can rely upon my protecting you 
 from him. It is beyond his power to harm you now." 
 
 The poor girl murmured her thanks, and Blueskin 
 assisted her to rise to her feet. 
 
 He then had a better opportunity of observing her. 
 
 She was clad in plain-looking apparel — such as denoted 
 her position in life to be the reverse of exalted. 
 
 But her face !
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 397 
 
 That was indeed most beautiful, and Blueskin, as he 
 gazed upon it, felt charmed, and he mentally determined 
 to be her champion, and place her somewhere in security. 
 
 He wondered, too, how any one could be found who was 
 willing to inflict injuries of any kind upon such a beavi5ful 
 creature. 
 
 But the man who had to all appearances carried her off, 
 looked just such a being as would exult in the destruction 
 of anything beautiful. 
 
 • The contrast between the two was striking in iae 
 extreme. 
 
 " What can I do for you ? " asked Blueskin, as he sun 
 ported the trembling form of the girl with hia arm. " 1 
 should not have known anything amiss was going on had 
 it not been that I wished to ask the coachman a simple 
 question as to whether he had passed a troop of horse- 
 men who I fancied were on the road before me." 
 
 The man ground his teeth with impotent rage when he 
 heard this. 
 
 Blueskin continued. 
 
 " It was the behaviour of the driver which excited my 
 suspicions. Instead of pulling up to answer me, as in 
 common courtesy he might have done, he lashed on to the 
 horses to make them go faster, and then, amidst the din, 
 I heard a faint muffled voice call for help." 
 
 " That was me." 
 
 " I thought so. The rest you already know." 
 
 " I do, indeed, know it, and I shall never be able to 
 be sufficiently grateful to you for what you have done. 
 Give me something to do which will prove my gratitude, 
 and see how readily and how gladly I will do it." 
 
 These simple words were uttered with an impressive 
 earnestness, that left no doubts as to the sincerity of the 
 speaker. 
 
 " You have saved me from a dreadful fate," she said. 
 " A fate to me ten times more horrible than death in its 
 most hideous and revolting form. Oh ! sir, I cannot 
 thank you." 
 
 " You have done so," said Blueskin. " You Lave 
 thanked me more than I deserve." 
 
 " No— no." 
 
 " I say, yes. I did but do my duty as a man, and act 
 in the manner ray inclination prompted me. Say no more 
 upon the point of thanks, I beg you." 
 
 " You are unkind." 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 " You will not give me the opportunity of expressing 
 my feelings." 
 
 " I can fully comprehend them. Believe me, I would 
 much rather you told me, with as much haste as possible, 
 what I can do to still further assist you." 
 
 " I cannot trespass any further upon you. Doubtless, 
 you have other matters of yonr own " 
 
 " No more — no more," said Blueskin. " I cannot leave 
 you on the high-road like this. I should be unworthy of 
 the name of man were I to do so. You must tell me of 
 some place where you will be secure, and I will take you 
 there. ' 
 
 " I have friends in London," said the young girl. 
 
 " Then I will take you there. But, stay a moment," he 
 added, when he saw she was about to speak. " We will 
 dispose of the gentleman first." 
 
 " No — no," vociferated the man who was tied to the 
 wheel, and who, by his dress, could claim the title Blue- 
 skin had applied to him. " No — no. Leave me be, or 
 you may suffer for it." 
 
 "Do what?" 
 
 " Suffer." 
 
 " Bah." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN INFLICTS UPON AN INFAMOUS VILT.AIN A 
 WELL-DESEKVED CHASTISEMENT, AND TAKES THE 
 YOUNG GIRL TO A PLACE OF SAFETY. 
 
 With this contemptuous exclamation on his lips, Blueskin 
 left the young girl's side and advanced towards him. 
 
 The cowardly fellow crouched down when he saw our 
 friend approach him. 
 
 "No — no," he said. "Spare me — spare me. Keep 
 off." 
 
 " Spare you ? Yes, so I will when I have punished 
 you in the manner you deserve, but not before." 
 
 " Mercy — mercy. 
 
 " How can you expect me to listen to such a plea when 
 coming from your lips — you who have turned a deaf ear to 
 the words of this young girl when she addressed the same 
 supplication to you ? " 
 
 The man was silent. 
 
 " I will punish you — not as you desorve to be punished 
 —but I promise myself you shall have an instalment of 
 what is due to you." 
 
 " No — no. Keep your hands off me. Keep them off, 
 I say. What have I done that you should touch me ? I 
 don't want the girl. It isn't me. I am only acting under 
 orders." 
 
 " Undei orders ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Simply what I say." 
 
 " That yon are obeying the commands of another ? " 
 
 " Exactly." 
 
 " That you have been mean-spirited and base enough to 
 become the panderer to the lusts of some greater villain 
 than yourself ? " 
 
 The man was again silent. 
 
 " If so, then there is all the less excuse for you, and the 
 crime you have committed all the more unnatural. You 
 have no excuse whatever." 
 
 " Who wants an excuse ? " said the man, endeavouring 
 to pluck up a spirit. 
 
 " Why you want an excuse," said Blueskin, "and badly, 
 too. But I can tell you beforehand, you will not be able 
 to find one that will satisfy you. No, villain, you shall 
 receive the reward your conduct so richly merits." 
 
 Thus speaking, Blueskin took from his pocket a piece 
 of strong twine, and with this, under threats of immediate 
 death if he resisted, he bound the man's hands together 
 behind his back. 
 
 The mean-spirited wretch glared at Blueskin with the 
 utmost dismay. He had no idea for what kind of fate he 
 was intendedj and was apprehensive accordingly. 
 
 Blueskin did not keep him long in suspense. 
 
 Having made him thus secure, he mounted to the 
 driver's seat, and took the long horsewhip from its 
 socket. 
 
 He gave it a preliminary swish in the air, which 
 sounded most unpleasantly in the man's ear, and caused 
 every hair upon his head to bristle up with anticipated 
 torture. 
 
 Again and again did Blueskin crack the whip, so as to 
 get used to the feel of it in his hand, and so as to be able 
 to use it with the utmost advantage. 
 
 Each time the man gave a sympathetic start, and in 
 imagination ho almost felt the pain which the blow would 
 produce. 
 
 " Now then," said Blueskin, " you shall have some idea 
 of what retribution is, and I hope the punishment I am 
 about to inflict will make you hesitate before you attempt 
 the abduction of another girl." 
 
 A dismal howl followed these words. 
 
 Blueskin swung the whip round his head. 
 
 It was one of first-rate quality. 
 
 Crack it came down upon the man — crack — crack — each 
 blow coming with greater speed and force than its prede- 
 cessor. 
 
 His cries were terrible. 
 
 He writhed about like a serpent, but all in vain. 
 
 Ho tugged at the scarf round his neck until he had 
 pulled it so tight that he was all but strangled. 
 
 Maddened with the pain, however, he gave yet another 
 snatch, and then the knot gave way, and he fell with his 
 face on to the ground. 
 
 But Blueskin's blood was up, and he felt he had by no 
 means done with him yet. 
 
 Our friend's indignation knew no bounds, and he could 
 think of no fate bad enough for such a wretch. 
 
 When he fell, therefore, he continued to rain blows 
 upon him. 
 
 Shrieking with pain, the man started to his feet. 
 
 A out with the whip, however, dexterously applied, sent 
 him down upon his knees. 
 
 Another made him start up again. 
 
 Theu he set off at full speed, with Blueskin after him, 
 who never thought of giving up the chase. 
 
 But he was no match for the man in fleetness of foot. 
 
 Besides, there was this difference, he was flying from 
 unendurable torment, and he knew that the only means by
 
 39S 
 
 BLTJESK.IN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 which lie could escape would be by using some extraordi- 
 nary exertions. 
 
 Away, then, be went, bounding over tbe roadway like a 
 bunted bare. 
 
 Blueskin kept well behind him, swinging the whip all 
 the time, and, when he could, administering a cut. _ 
 
 Suddenly, however, the man lost his footing, and. with 
 a loud yell, fell with a tremendous splash into a stagnant 
 ditch. ' .. . 
 
 Then Blueskin thought be bad bad enough, and be 
 returned to the coach. 
 
 He found tho young girl waiting for him, with her 
 bands clasped in an agony of terror. 
 
 " Fear nothing, 1 ' said Blueskin, " fear nothing. L have 
 punished the scoundrel in a manner he richly deserves 
 and will not easily forget. Now, tell me, what I ean do 
 for you. I am entirely at your service, and determined 
 not to leave you until I have seen you disposed in some 
 place of security." 
 
 The girl burst into tears. 
 
 " You are very good," she said, " and very kind. How 
 am I to recompense you ? " 
 
 " Say nothing at all about it. Let ma assist you into 
 the chaise. There— sit down; you will be more com- 
 fortable now." 
 
 As ho spoke, Blueskin banded the young girl into the 
 chaise again. 
 
 " And you," she said. " What will you do ? 
 
 " I will find the coachman. Ho is somewhere- close at 
 hand, and he will drive us to London. ( I shall not leave 
 you until assured that you are in safety." 
 
 " You are very kind," said the young girl, her tears 
 flowing afresh. 
 
 But Blueskin did not wait to bear whatshe said. 
 
 He busied himself in looking for the driver. 
 
 That be was unhurt, with the exception of such injuries 
 as be might havo received in falling from bis seat, he felt 
 certain. 
 
 When he fired, ho had aimed at a spot many feet above 
 his head. 
 
 He had, doubtless, fallen from cowardice merely. 
 
 Such was the case. 
 
 Blueskin looked about the spot where he had fallen, 
 but be had disappeared. 
 
 Perhaps crawled a little way, and bid himself under the 
 hedge. 
 
 Raising his voice to its highest pitch, Blueskin 
 shouted — 
 
 " Coachman, come this way and drive us to town. If 
 you refuse you are a dead man. I will couut three, and 
 then, if you do not come towards me, I will fire. One- 
 two " 
 
 "Stop— stop! Mercy— don't fire ! Don't. I am here, 
 good sir — I am here ! Don't fire ! " 
 
 From under the hedge on one side of the road there 
 crawled a human figure, which, when it stood up to its 
 full height, Blueskin recognised as being that of the 
 coachman. 
 
 Trembling iu every limb, be came towards Blueskin, 
 who said — 
 
 " Mount— mount, I say, at once, and drive us to 
 London. I will give you the address presently." 
 
 "Oh! yes; very good, sir ; oh ! yes. I will drive you 
 where you like, but spare my life— oh ! do spare it," 
 
 " Your life is spared," said Blueskin, " provided "on at 
 once, and without the slightest hesitation, obey ail com- 
 mands." 
 
 " I will obey them all, sir." 
 
 " Mount, then." 
 
 The coachman bad been making abortive attempt? to 
 ascend to bis box while this little dialogue was going en, 
 but he trembled so excessively that he found it im- 
 possible. 
 
 Blueskin touched him up with the whip 
 
 That made a wonderful difference. 
 
 He clambered up somehow when that little incestico 
 was behind him. 
 
 Then took the reins in his hands. 
 
 Blueskin, having succeeded so far, tied bis own horse 
 to the back of the post-chaise, so that ho could run after 
 it. 
 
 This done, he entered the vehicle himself, and sat down 
 on the seat opposite to that which was occupied by the 
 young girl, and told tbe coachman to drive on. 
 
 He obeyed the order at once, and, in a little while, ho 
 recovered from his trepidation, when be found that no 
 harm was intended him if he only drove properly. 
 
 " And now," said Blueskin, after a few minutes' pause, 
 " now that all is well so far, tell me, if you will, how it 
 is I found you here in the condition I did." 
 
 " I will, sir ; for at least you have a right to claim that 
 at my bands. I am the only daughter of poor but honest 
 parents, who died shortly after my birth, leaving me in the 
 wide world alone." 
 Blueskin was instantly interested. 
 " As soon as I was able, I began to earn my own living, 
 and continued to do so up to the present time. I lived at 
 a little village near Hertford, and the means by which I 
 gained my bread was by plaiting straw ready for the use 
 of the manufactory." 
 Blueskin nodded. 
 
 " I lived in a cottage with a poor family, who all earned 
 their living iu the same manner, and with our united gains 
 we were nearly always able to keep ourselves supplied with 
 tbe necessaries of life. 
 
 "It was our custom always to sit outside the cottage, 
 and as we worked wo could see the passengers and vehicles 
 pass by. 
 
 " One day, about a week since, two gentlemen, mounted 
 upon horses of beautiful form, paused before the cottage, 
 for what purpose I don't know. 
 
 " I had seen tbem both before. One was the squire of 
 the manor, and the other was his confidential attendant 
 
 or companion, Colonel . I forget his name. 
 
 " Something was said by these two horsemen, but what 
 it was I was too far off to hear. However, the colonel 
 pointed either to me or tbe oottage and made a remark, 
 to which the squire assented, and then both of them rode 
 away." 
 
 The girl paused, but Blueskin did not offer to interrupt 
 her. He wished to hear how this incident was connected 
 with the abduction. 
 
 " I did not see them again ; but to-night, just as it was 
 getting dusk, I was standing at the little garden gate, 
 looking up and down the road, for I had finished my day'a 
 work. 
 
 " Suddenly I saw a cloud of dust, betokening the ap. 
 proach of some vehicle. 
 
 On it came, and then I saw it was a post-chaise — the 
 very one, indeed, in which we are now sitting." 
 " I understand." 
 
 " But judge of my surprise when, instead of continuing 
 on its way, the post-chaise suddenly stopped before tbe 
 gate. 
 
 " Tho door was suddenly flung open, and a man sprang 
 out. 
 " He had something black in his hand. 
 " It was the black scarf which you found tied over my 
 mouth. 
 
 " With great dexterity and swiftness he flung this over 
 my bead, and (how I can scarcely tell you) lifted me from 
 my feet and placed me in tbe chaise, which was imme- 
 diately set in rapid motion. 
 
 " I had no chance to scream. Indeed, I almost fainted 
 at the suddenness with which everything occurred, and 
 when I was more recovered, the scarf was twisted over 
 my mouth in such a manner that to cry out was an im- 
 possibility. 
 
 " But, quick as be was, I recognised tho person who 
 had made me prisoner. It was the squire's companion, 
 the colonel. 
 
 " In a littlo while he spoke to me, and told me that he 
 was taking me to some one who loved me, and who would 
 make me the happiest being on the face of the earth, and 
 more to the same end. 
 
 " But I doubted him. A thousand vague fears sprang 
 ip in my mind, and I struggled desperately to get free. 
 
 " Finding that I would not be pacified, he bound me in 
 the manner in which you found me, and then indeed I felt 
 truly helpless and resigned myself to my fate. 
 
 " It was soon after this that I heard you cry out, and I 
 made a desperate attempt to speak loud enough to attract 
 your attention. Fortunately, you heard me." 
 " I did, and thought it t»y duty to interfere." 
 " Heaven bless you for it ! for you have been tbe mcani 
 of saving me from a fate I tremble at." 
 Tbe young girl coased. 
 Such was the narrative she poured into Blueskin's ears. 
 
 i
 
 BLUESKIN: A UOMANCS. 
 
 The simple and artless manner in which she told her 
 story, and, above all, the beautiful musical voice in which 
 she spoke, charmed Blueskin, and he was not surprised 
 that the unprincipled squire should seek to niako so 
 beautiful a creature his own. 
 
 "And now, having told me this much, A'hero shall I 
 take you to, for we shall soon be in London ? " 
 
 "Alas — alas ! " 
 
 " Why do you weep ? " 
 
 " To think that I am compelled to leava the little eo^ 
 tage where I have been so happy, for I feel that it would 
 not be safe for me to live there any longer." 
 
 "I fear not, for the poor have no chance with the 
 rich. You will now bo looked upon as the possessor of 
 a dangerous secret." 
 
 " I have an uncle and aunt in London," continued the 
 poor girl, " and if you will take me to them they will 
 doubtless advise me what I am to do." 
 
 " Are they friendly with you ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Then go there, by all means. Where do they live ? " 
 
 " In a small street leading out of the City-road." 
 
 "Could you find it?" 
 
 "Oh! easily." 
 
 " That is well, then. I propose that on reaching the 
 City-road we discharge this chaise, and then proceed the 
 remainder of the distance on foot." 
 
 "As you will." 
 
 " My reason is this. The driver of the chaise is un- 
 questionably linked with your persecutors, and it is neces- 
 sary to keep from them all knowledgo of your where- 
 abouts." 
 
 " How thoughtful you are." 
 
 " Caution is needed. In dealing with such men you 
 cannot take too many precautions. I have, however, got 
 one great satisfaction." 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " I have bestowed upon the rascally colonel, who doubt- 
 less suggests to his employer things of which he would 
 never think, and puts temptations in his waj — I have, I 
 say, the satisfaction of knowing that he has received some 
 liitle punishment for his wickedness. It will be a long 
 time before he forgets me." 
 
 " I tremble when"— — 
 
 At this moment the chaise came to a sudden halt, which 
 made the young girl stop in the middle of the speech she 
 was about to utter. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXIV. 
 
 RETURNS TO JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS IN 
 THE BOAT ON THE THAJT%S, AND RELATES HOW THEY 
 WERE PURSUED BY THE RIVER PIRATES. 
 
 We doubt not that the reader feels curious to a degree to 
 know what has befallen Jack Sheppard and Edgworth 
 Bess after their narrow escape from the bullets of Jonathan 
 Wild and his men. 
 
 They succeeded in pushing off into the river with their 
 treasure-laden bark just in time to escape injury from 
 the volley so recklessly fired at them. 
 
 Since tthat time we have never had an opportunity of 
 recording their actions, and even now to do so we are 
 compelled to leave Blueskin in a situation of peculiar 
 interest. 
 
 In writing a romance it is an impossibility to keep the 
 whole of the characters upon the page at one time. 
 
 Events in the natural order of things must occur to 
 cause a separation, and then the only course which can be 
 pursued is to tako the threads of the narrative, one after 
 tbe other, and continue them to a certain point. 
 
 In this way it often happens that, in order to preserve 
 the synchronism of the narrative-^a thing of paramount 
 importance — one set of character has to be left at some 
 interesting point while the doings of other characters ate 
 placed before the reader. 
 
 Thus, in the present romance, the characters may fairly 
 enough be divided into three sets. 
 
 All are separate and distinct. 
 
 Yet all, to a certain extent, tending to the same end. 
 
 In the first place, we have Jonathan Wild and his myr- 
 midons in search of those he is so desirous to capture. 
 
 In the second, Blueskin, who has, by a stroke of good 
 fortune, been separated from his two companions. 
 
 And, lastly, we have Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess 
 upou the Thames. 
 
 Now, although it is quite possible to chronicle all that 
 Happens to these three sets of characters in different 
 places, it cannot be done at once, any moro than a man 
 could run in three different directions at the same time. 
 
 Each has to be taken in its proper turn, and the chrono- 
 logical sequence of the story thus preserved. 
 
 For some time past we have been occupied with Blue- 
 skin, but, having pursued his adventures to a certain 
 point, he must perforce give place to those who have been 
 negleoted, and come before the reader in his proper time. 
 
 We shall now occupy ourselves with those two of our 
 characters in whom it is presumed the reader feels the 
 greatest amouut of interest, and who are in a situation of 
 moro than ordinary difficulty and danger. 
 
 In an anxious tone of voice, Jack spoke as soon as the 
 report of the pistols had died away. 
 
 "Bess, dearest," he said. "Speak— oh! speak. Tell 
 me if you are wounded." 
 
 " No. I am unhurt. And you ? " 
 
 "Not scratched." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 "Thank heaven, then, for that danger safely passed 
 through." 
 
 "Amen," responded Jack. "Steer for the bridge, 
 dearest. I must row for our lives." 
 
 "Blueskin, where is he? What can have become of 
 him ? Is it possible that he he has fallen into the bauds 
 of our arch-enemy." 
 
 " I fear so— but I trust not." 
 
 "Alas— alas!" 
 
 " Be of good heart, dear one. Do not fear for Blueskin. 
 Ho is a man of many resources, and no doubt alone will be 
 able to avoid even Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I hope so." 
 
 " Mind the piers of the bridge. Gently. Now wo are 
 safe. The surface of the river is as dark as pitch, and our 
 foes do not seem to have attempted to pursue us." 
 
 At this moment the little vessel passed in safety beneath 
 the arches of old Westminster-bridge. 
 
 More at ease with himself, Jack now only pulled gently, 
 allowing the boat to drift with the stream." 
 
 Ho was puzzled to know how to act. 
 
 Where should he land ? 
 
 Where should ho convey the treasure to, which was so 
 heavy as to somewhat overload the boat, and increase its 
 risk of capsizing ? 
 
 He had no idea. 
 
 He wanted Blueskin with him to suggest and advise. 
 
 It was not long before Edgworth Bess noted the state 
 of indecision his mind was in, and she questioned him as 
 to the cause of it." 
 
 " Do you think we are not pursued, Jack ? " 
 
 " I am almost sure of it." 
 
 " Then, I should think tbe best thing you can do is to 
 hover about this spot. If Blueskin escapes from Jona- 
 than Wild, he is almost sure to come down to the water's 
 edgo to find us." 
 
 " Very true," said Jack. 
 
 " Do you think that best ? " 
 
 " Assuredly. It is, indeed, the only course open to us." 
 
 Cautiously Jack Sheppard changed the course of the 
 boat, and returned towards to tho spot from which they 
 had so recently been driven. 
 
 But though they went as near to the land as they dared, 
 they were unable to see anything of their faithful com- 
 rade. 
 
 Wearily, indeed, did tho time pass to them, and yet, as 
 minute after minute passed away, Jack Sheppard's anxiety 
 kept rapidly increasing. 
 
 Morning would come, and then what were they to do ? 
 
 It eeemed as though the treasure taken from Jonathan 
 Wild was destined to do them no good. 
 
 The curse of blood appeared to be upon it. 
 
 It had been a trouble to them from the first. 
 
 Oh ! if Jack Sheppard could only have been persuaded 
 to consign that treasure to the bottom of the river <u»d 
 land upon the shore nearest to them, what an an.<s:3t of 
 suffering and horror would have been spared them. 
 
 But aLs ! fate decided otherwise. 
 
 Thai treasure was destined ;u be their destructives 
 
 We must not anticipate, but content ourselves w^l. -e-
 
 400 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 lating events in tbe precise order in which tbey oc- 
 curred. 
 
 An hour passed. 
 
 During that time Jack kept rowing up and Sown past 
 the spot where Blueskin had promised to make his anpear- 
 ance. 
 
 But there were no more signs of him now than at first. 
 
 Poor Edgworth Bess was terribly fatigued. 
 
 She was neither fitted bodily not mentally for such 
 scenes and trials as she had had to go through, and they 
 had all left a visible impression upon he?. 
 
 Jack could see, and his heart ached when he saw it, 
 that she was now little more than the shabow of her 
 former self. 
 
 Her cheeks were pale, her eyes sunken, and her whole 
 frame terribly emaciated. 
 
 A hollow cough, too, which seemed as though it would 
 rend her lungs, made itself heard at short irregular in- 
 tervals. 
 
 Tbese symptoms alarmed Jack more than he liked to 
 coufess, even to himself. 
 
 But his companion made no complaint — uttered no word, 
 to say how she was suffering. 
 
 Alas ! she felt that she was the victim of a cruel and 
 remorseles fortune, and that everything was being done 
 for her that could be done. 
 
 Without the aid and protection of Jack Sheppard and 
 Blueskin, she would long ere this have fallen a victim to 
 the machinations of her enemies. 
 
 Blueskin did not come. 
 
 In vain Jack Sheppard rowed the boat to dangerous 
 proximity to the shore and strained his eyeballs to catch a 
 glimpse of his companion's form. 
 
 Then he would lay off again, and once more wait with 
 patience. 
 
 The dense night-mist still hangs upon the surface of the 
 river. 
 
 It will only be dispersed when the sun pours down his 
 ardent beams upon it. 
 
 But what is that which, like some great monster of the 
 deep, seems to rise slowly through the mist. 
 
 Its form is huge. 
 
 Its outline shadowy. 
 
 Higher and higher it seems to rise, plainer and plainer 
 it becomes, though it loses not its dim uudefined cha- 
 racter. 
 
 What is it ? 
 
 Neither Jack nor Edgworth Bess see it, or observe it3 
 stealthy, silent approach. 
 
 Their regards are concentrated upon the shore. 
 
 Their vision is strained to the utmost, in the hope that, 
 after all, they might see something of Blueskin. 
 
 Nearer and nearer comes the strange-looking object. 
 
 It seems to increase in size, and now it can be seen, a 
 mass of something black, and partially defined from the 
 thick mist environing it. 
 
 There arises no sound to warn Jack and Bess of what 
 is coming. 
 
 They see it not, and it nears them rapidly. 
 
 What was it ? * 
 
 Another moment answered the question. 
 
 A slight puff of wind blew across the water, and in its 
 course it took the mist with it. 
 
 Then was revealed a boat of large size, containing 
 several men. 
 
 The mist, however, seemed to magnify it, for now that 
 it was properly seen, it was much smaller than it had at 
 first appeared to be. 
 
 It had lost altogether the gigantic c.ppearance it had 
 worn. 
 
 Suddenly Edgworth Bess uttered a loud shriek. 
 
 She had turned round, and her gaze had fallen upon the 
 boat which had so imperceptibly approached them. 
 
 Jack turned round with the swiftness of lightning to 
 ascertain the cause of this cry, for it echoed and re-echoed 
 fir over the surface of the water. 
 
 So greatly was Jack himself taken by surprise that a 
 cry bui'st from his lips also, but he stifled it. 
 
 A second glance removed the awful feeling that was 
 abeut his heart that it was Jonathan Wild and his men 
 who had stolen so unawares upon him. 
 
 'liose in the boat presented no resemblance to the 
 •itfist-taker's janizaries, save in the expression of ferocity 
 which was stamped upon all their features. 
 
 That was a load off Jack's heart. 
 
 But let them be who they might, the attitude which 
 they assumed towards our friends was decidedly a hostile 
 one. 
 
 " Boat ahoy, there," said a rough voice. " Heave to, or 
 we'll scuttle you." 
 
 A boat-hook was raised by one of the men, whc Jack 
 saw had a sailor-like aspect. 
 
 The intention was to hold the little wherry with this, 
 but, quick as thought, Jack plied the oars, and the frail 
 rossel shot far over the water. 
 
 Oaths and imprecations came from the men in the boat, 
 and they renewed their fierce cries to the fugitives to 
 heave to. 
 
 Bit this command Jack altogether disregarded. 
 
 The only effect it had upon him was to cause him to in- 
 crease his speed. 
 
 The men in the large boat, however, soon started in 
 pursuit, and it could be seen at once that, for every foot 
 Jack went, they went two. 
 
 The result of such a race as that could not be doubtful. 
 
 Still Jack plied his oars with uncommon vigour. 
 
 He had the tide to assist him, though not much, for it 
 was close upon the turn. 
 
 In a little while the water would come surging up in 
 the opposite direction. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was in au agony of terror. 
 
 " Oh ! Jack — Jack," she cried. " What will become cf 
 us ? Who are those dreadful men in the boat ? " 
 
 " I think I could give a pretty good guess." 
 
 " They — they are not Wild's men." 
 
 "Oh! no." 
 
 " What are they, then ? " 
 
 " Quite as bad." 
 
 " No-no." 
 
 " I am afraid so." 
 
 " Then we are lost." 
 
 " No," said Jack. " I won't consent to that. We are 
 in danger, I know, but not lost." 
 
 " Who are these men ? " 
 
 " River pirates." 
 
 " River pirates ? " 
 
 " Yes. I can tell by the tone of voice in which you 
 repeat my question that you do not quite understand mj 
 meaning." 
 
 " I do not. Are there pirates on the river ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. The Thames swarms with them, as they 
 would tell you ou board any vessel." 
 
 " How shall we escape them ? " 
 
 " I know not. They seem to be gaining on us fast." 
 
 " They do." 
 
 " They are ferocious villains^ and we shall have a poor 
 chance if we fall into their hands." 
 
 " Oh ! heaven have mercy upon us ! " 
 
 That was the simple ejaculatory prayer which Bess 
 uttered. 
 
 Jack bent his back to the oars, and considering the 
 little practice he had had with such instruments, he did 
 wonders. 
 
 The little wherry seemed to skim over the water like a 
 bird. 
 
 But behind it — keeping ever in its wake — came the large 
 boat ; looking like some huge shark in pursuit of some 
 small finny inhabitant of the deep. 
 
 Jack's eyes were all the time fixed upon it. 
 
 They were certaininly gaining ground upon him, and 
 rapidly too. 
 
 He saw a figure stand up in the pursuing boat. 
 
 " Heave to," he heard a voice cry — the sound coming 
 over the water to his ears with perfect plainness. " Heave 
 to, or we fire ! " 
 
 Of this threat Jack took not the slightest notice. 
 
 He redoubled his exertions. 
 
 " Stoop, Bess— stoop," he cried. " Crouch down as low 
 as you can in the boat. They are going to fire." 
 
 " And you, Jack — and you. What shall you do ? " 
 
 " I will try to avoid their aim by changing the course 
 of the boat continually. It is for you I feel afraid. Stoop 
 down." 
 
 Trembling in every limb, and fairly sick at heart, Edg- 
 worth Bess did as she was bidden. 
 
 At that very moment Jack saw a bright flash, -Tliich 
 was succeeded by a report. 
 
 It was a pistol which had been fired.
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 -A 
 
 [the three friends seek 
 
 The bullet, howe7e.. ..d no injury. 
 It was as ineffectual ai tlieir cry to iieave to. 
 But now the boat containing the Thames pirates — for 
 Jack was quite right in his conjecture — approached with 
 surprising swiftness. 
 
 Over the water it came like a race horse, and soon Jack 
 saw, with a painful tightening at his heart, that in a few 
 miurtes it must reach him— that a contest and collision 
 would be inevitable. 
 
 Cursing his unlucky fate, he still kept rowing, though 
 hi3 back ached fearfully and the perspiration fell in drops 
 from his brow. 
 
 He would not give in without a struggle. 
 Edgworth Bess raised her head a little way and ventured 
 to take a peep at what was going on. 
 
 " Oh ! heaven ! " she exclaimed, in a voice of terror. 
 " We are indeed lost ! " 
 
 SHELTER WITH THE GIPSIES.] 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXV. 
 
 JACK SIT5PPAIID AND F.DGWOETH BESS ARE HADE 
 PRISONERS BY THE THAMES PIRATES. 
 
 Long prior and subsequent to the period of which we are 
 writing, the river Thames was infested with a body of 
 men who went by the name of river or Thames pirates. 
 
 The doings of these wild lawless men have many a time 
 been chronicled. . 
 
 During the night they would go on boaru a boat in 
 rather strong numbers, and direct their course to one ot 
 the uumerous vessels which are always moored between 
 London-bridge and Gravesend. 
 
 On reaching the bark, which was generally selected 
 beforehand, they would board her, overcome the men who 
 had been left to take charge of her, and strip the vessel of 
 everything valuable that was at the f™ a time portable. 
 
 Nothing came amiss to them. » 
 
 In general they preferred to do their work secretly, and 
 this was one of the modes often practiced by them. 
 
 No. 51.
 
 BLVJESKIN : A R0MAKC2. 
 
 At night such craft as are moored on the river are 
 generally left in charge of one man as watchman — some- 
 times two or even more, according to the value of the 
 cargo. 
 
 Now these pirates would dress themselves iu ordinary 
 sailors' clothes, and, whenever they could, obtaiu the job 
 of watchman for one of these vessels. 
 
 When this was the case, his confederates were able to 
 make an easy prey of the boat and get off undetected, 
 taking their accomplice with them. 
 
 But this got found out, and the greatest caution was 
 exercised by the owners of boats iu engaging watchmen. 
 
 Still, however, the pirates continued their depredations, 
 and at length to such an extent did they carry on their 
 nefarious traffic, that a special police called the river- 
 police was organized to suppress them. 
 
 Their proceedings were now rendered more difficult, 
 but still they thrived. 
 
 Dark stories were told of the terrible deeds commit ted 
 by the Thames pirates, aud many a time had Jack in his 
 boyhood been dismayed by a recital of their doings. 
 Every one dreaded them. 
 
 It was, indeed, a body of these desperadoes who were 
 in pursuit of Jack and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Whether they had learned by some means what the 
 boat contained, was more than they could say. 
 
 With great speed they came on, but Jack would not 
 give in. 
 He strained his muscles to the utmost. 
 It was in vain. 
 
 One more vigorous sweep was given to the oars by the 
 men in the large boat, and then one who stood up with a 
 long pole at oue end, to which a hook was attached, swung 
 it round, and brought it down upon the gunwale of the 
 wherry. 
 
 So violent was the shock that the little boat heeled over, 
 and almost capsized. 
 
 It righted itself, however. 
 
 Seeing the desperate emergency in which he was 
 placed, Jack Sheppard sprang up in the boat with one of 
 the oars in his hands, and strove to strika himself clear of 
 the. hook. 
 But to no purpose. 
 
 Other hooks were fixed, until the little wherry was 
 drawn close to the large boat. 
 
 Half-fainting with terror, Edgworth Bess shrank back 
 to the further extremity of the little bark, but Jack, 
 armed with the ponderous oar, right manfully did battle 
 with his foes. 
 
 Their numbers were, however, too great for him to 
 stand the ghost of a chance even. 
 
 He was quickly surrounded and overpowered. 
 Then a heavy blow on the head rendered him insen- 
 sible. 
 
 In this condition he was thrown into the large boat. 
 
 Seeing the fate which Jack had met with, and fully 
 
 believing he was killed, Edgworth Bess fell into a swoon. 
 
 She was seized in a moment by one of the pirates — a 
 
 man of moot sinister aspect — ana thrown into the large 
 
 boat beside Jack. 
 
 It was then that the pirates made the discovery that 
 the little wherry was laden with silver ingots. 
 Their exultation knew no bounds. 
 They had never expected such a booty. 
 They had seen Jack and Edgworth Bess in the wherry, 
 and had attacked them merely in the hope of obtaining 
 such valuables as they might have about them. 
 
 Then there was the boat which was worth something. 
 
 And not only that, they had a darker and more horrible 
 
 reason for taking them prisoners after they were attacked. 
 
 It was that they might plunder them, "of every article 
 
 they had about them— even to their clothes— and then 
 
 dispose of their bodies to the doctors for dissection. 
 
 At the time when these events occurred the science of 
 anatomy had not reached that point of perf ection to which 
 it has since attained. 
 
 But that perfection was only obt;»aned by making 
 patient examination of many subjects. 
 
 Now all doctors at that time had the greatest possible 
 difficulty iu obtaiuiug bodies for dissection, owing to the 
 repugnance to such a proceeding which was felt by the 
 survivors of the deceased. 
 
 Medical men were therefore compelled to razor*, to 
 other means to obtain what they required. 
 
 They soon became careless as to how the subjects wow 
 got— that was no business of theirs — they paid for them 
 when they were brought, and there, they considered, was 
 an end of the matter. 
 
 In tnis way numberless persons mysteriously dis- 
 appeared, and it was not until lon~ afterwards that the 
 truth came out. 
 
 Suchwas the horrible fate for whic'u Jack and his fair 
 companion were designed. 
 
 We shudder and the flesh ci-ceps upon our bones a3 we 
 think of their terrible situation. 
 
 Against so many meu what chance had they ? 
 
 None whatever. 
 
 Bruised and insensible, they were unable to do anything 
 to avert their frightful doom. 
 
 The thoughts of the pirates were now, however, com- 
 pletely occupied with the treasure upon which they had 
 so unexpectedly fallen. 
 
 It was not often they had such a slice of luck as that. 
 
 By the directions of the one who had the command— a 
 most ferocious-looking fellow he was, with a ragged beard 
 and moustache — the little wherry was put in tow behind 
 the larger one. 
 
 Without any one in it, it floated easily enough in their 
 wake. 
 
 The order was now given to make all speed with the 
 oai's, and the vessel floated down the river in the direction 
 of London -bridge at a rapid rate. 
 
 It would seem, however, that the villainous pirates had 
 not been unperceived while thus engaged. 
 
 Erelong, the practised eye of one of the men, whose 
 duty it wa3 to keep a sharp look-out, gave warning to his 
 comrades that something which looked like a police galley 
 was bearing down dead upon them. 
 
 Hasty glances were cast in the direction indicated, and 
 they found the words uttered by the look-out were quite 
 correct. 
 
 A boat manned with the new Thames police was in full 
 chase of them. 
 
 " Bow on — row on," cried the captain, in a suppressed 
 tone of voice to his piratical crow. " We will avoid the 
 bluebottles if we can ; if not, why " 
 
 He interrupted himself to laugh hideously. 
 
 The remainder of his sentence, though not uttered, was 
 clearly understood, as was proved by the manner in which 
 the pirates chuckled. 
 
 But they bent their backs to their task, and pulled till 
 the boat cracked again. 
 
 The speed they made was really prodigious, aud would 
 have been much greater than it was only the tide had just 
 turned, and they were compelled to row against it. 
 
 The police galley could be distinguished with tolerable 
 ease. 
 
 About a dozen men were seated in it. 
 
 Suddenly there was a bright flash and a report. 
 
 A pistol had been discharged in the air by the police. 
 
 That was a well-understood signal among all the craft 
 on the river, aud meant that they were to heave to and 
 allow the police to come up with them. 
 
 But although the pirates understood the signal well 
 enough, they never made the least attempt to comply 
 with it. 
 
 Very soon, however, it became clear that their foes 
 were gaining upon them rapidly, in spite of all the exer- 
 tions they could make. 
 
 Perceiving this, the captain ordered the men to take it 
 easy, and not fatigue themselves. 
 
 Since they were to be overtaken it was better at fii-st 
 than at last, wheu the strength of his men would be spent. 
 
 Besides, the captain was rather inclined than otherwise 
 to court an engagement with the police, for he had 
 recently devised a new mode of attacking them, and was 
 anxious it should be tried. 
 
 At a much slower rate, then, the pirate vessel surged 
 through the water. 
 
 Tho police galley cams up hand over hand. 
 
 They nuw fired another pistol, and this fcima the pirate 
 captain told his men to heave to. 
 
 lie was obeyed immediately. 
 
 The police "galley came on, but not quite so rapidly as 
 before. 
 
 They had their suspicions of the pirate bark, but they 
 might be unfounded, and it bthoved thsm to be careful in 
 what they did.
 
 BLUESKIN: 1 ROMANCE. 
 
 403 
 
 " Hullo ! " cried some one, in a loud voice. 
 
 " Hullo ! " responded the pirate captaiu. 
 
 " Heave to." 
 
 " Ay — ay. Here we are. Who are you ? " 
 
 •'Thames police " 
 
 "All right." 
 
 These words threw the police in a great measure off 
 their guard, and they began to think they must have made 
 some mistake. 
 
 Gently they surged through the water, until they were 
 almost side by side with the pirate boat. 
 
 But, in the meantime, the villainous captain's crew had 
 been busy, though they moved as quietly and stealthily as 
 possible, so as not to attract attention. 
 
 At the bottom of their boat was a large piece of iron 
 about a foot square. 
 
 The weight of it was enormous, for it was quite solid. 
 
 To two of the sides of this cube wore fixed two long 
 poles, which served for handles whereby the huge mass 
 could be raised. 
 
 Slowly the pirate crew raised it up. 
 
 The police saw they were doing something, but they 
 knew not what. 
 
 The two boats were only about three feet apart, and a 
 touch with the onr^ would have brought them alongside. 
 
 Suddenly that touch was given by the pirates at a signal 
 from their captain. 
 
 Then the men who bud hold of the ends of the pote* 
 which were fixed into the iron weight rose to their full 
 height. 
 
 Thev swayed the iron backwards and forwards once. 
 
 Then let go. 
 
 With a horrible rush the mass went through the air. 
 
 A cry of horror came from the lips of the police. 
 
 Too late they saw the frightful danger with which they 
 were menaced. 
 
 There was a crash. 
 
 A scream of horror. 
 
 The next moment the piece of iron broke through the 
 bottom of the police galley, and precipitated into the 
 water those of its occupants who were not slain. 
 
 A triumphant yell came from the throats of the pirates 
 when they saw how well the plan had succeeded. 
 
 At one fell swoop they had annihilated the enemy. 
 
 The police-officers swam to the edge of the pirate boat, 
 and, catching hold of it with their hands, strove to save 
 themselves from sinking. 
 
 But the barbarous crew mercilessly hacked their fingers 
 until the sinews, being at length severed, they were com- 
 pelled to let go. 
 
 Of all the dozen police-ofiicers only two were left 
 struggling on the surface of the water. 
 
 Not content with the havoc he had already caused, the 
 pirate captain fired until the black specks disappeared. 
 
 Of the police galley all that remained was a few frag- 
 ments of timber, and they were rapidly floating out of 
 sight. 
 
 " Hurrah ! my mates," said the captain, in an exultant 
 tone of voice. " Fortune favours us to-night. She gives 
 us victory and booty. Hurrah ! for the Thames pirates ! " 
 
 The boat was now in good earnest set in motion, and 
 London-bridge tit length gained. 
 
 Fortunately for them, Edgworth Bess and Jack Shep- 
 pard still continued insensible, so they were spared the 
 horror of being spectators of the wholesale butchery we 
 have described. 
 
 ShootiDg under old London-bridge, as passing under the 
 narrow arches was called, the pirates rowed their boat 
 through the pool, past the Tower, and so on, until the 
 shore near Rotherhithe was reached. 
 
 At that time this place was quite separated from 
 London, and consisted chiefly of wooden houses built 
 here and there insularly upon a large waste piece of 
 ground. 
 
 Nothing could bo imagined more desolate and 
 wretched than this shore. 
 
 The ground was low, and flat, and marshy. 
 
 An aspect of squalor pervaded it everywhere. 
 
 But it was when approached at night that it presented 
 the most disagreeable appearance. 
 
 In this region, and at the time when they approached 
 it — about an hour or an hour and a half before daylight — 
 it was wholly deserted. 
 
 Not a siDgle living thing was in sight. 
 
 It was at this moment that Jack recovered from the 
 effects of the blow he had received upon his head. 
 
 As might be expected, his faculties were very much 
 confused, and it was a long time before ht ?ould compre- 
 hend his position. 
 
 However, he had the good sense to lie Still, and not 
 betray by the least movement that he had gained posses- 
 sion of his senses. 
 
 He was lying on his back, and when he opened his eyes 
 he could see the dark cloudy sky above his head. 
 
 Then with a rush recollection came over him. 
 
 He was a prisoner, and he soon found he was lying in 
 a boat which was filled with men. 
 
 And where was Edgworth Bess ? 
 
 At first he did not dare hardly to turn his eyes round 
 in search of her, for fear he should be noticed and perhaps 
 subjected to some fresh ill-usage. 
 
 He could feel he was unbound, and that all his limba 
 were at liberty. 
 
 Slowly he moved his head from side to side, and strove 
 to pierce the darkness with which the body of the boat 
 seemed filled. 
 
 Presently his eyes fell upon what looked like an un- 
 distinguishable mas? of clolhing. 
 
 His heart, however, told him that it «ai th« eampa- 
 nion of hi.? misfortunes — poor Edgworth Bess. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXVJ. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARO HAS SOME RATHER REMARKABLE A U\ !:\- 
 TI'KES IN THE RUINED HILL. 
 
 An inaudible groan came from Jack Sheppa.d's lip* v.'.. u 
 he thought of the manifold dangers which the poor girl, 
 had passed through. 
 
 Fain would he, if it had been in his power, have shielded 
 her from all harm, to have tended her, waited upon her 
 as he would upon some rare exotic plant too delicate to 
 bear the blustering winds to blow upon it. 
 
 Instead of that," however, he did nothing but bring her 
 into additional peril. 
 
 Suddenly Jack felt the boat's keel grate upon tl.e 
 shore, and then he rightly enough imagined his journey 
 was at an end. 
 
 The boat was moored, and the men hastily got out of it. 
 
 The captain saluted him with a kick, and a groan camo 
 from Jack's lips. 
 
 " Get up, will you ? " 
 
 3 ack struggled to his feet. 
 
 He was still suffering rather severely from the blow on 
 his head. 
 
 "Now, then, out of the boat with you. Wright aniA 
 Harris ! " 
 
 " Ay — ay, sir." 
 
 " Look after the prisoners, and see them safely bestowed 
 Take care of them. No bruises, you know." 
 
 " All right, captain." 
 
 The two men approached. 
 
 One lifted up Edgworth Bess, and carried her in hii 
 arms as though she had been a feather. 
 
 The other caught hold of Jack rather roughly by the 
 arm, and he was compelled to follow. 
 
 The captain busied himself in looking after the ingots, 
 and seeing that his men did not appropriate any of them 
 to their own uses. 
 
 Looking around him, in order if possible to discover 
 whereabouts he was, Jack saw just before him a ruined 
 mill. 
 
 It was built close to the water's edge. 
 
 Its appearance was neglected in the extreme. 
 
 Indeed, it seemed as though a puff of wind of more than 
 usual force would blow it down at once. 
 
 But that was illusory. 
 
 The old mill was, on the contrary, as firm and strong as 
 could be wished. 
 
 It had weathered many a gale, and the probability was 
 it would weather a great many more. 
 
 It was towards this mill that the two men directed their 
 steps, so Jack came to the conclusion that that was their 
 destination. 
 
 And so it was. 
 
 It is quite certain, though, that Jack would never have 
 submitted so quietly as he did if it had not been for Edg- 
 worth Bess. 
 
 It was for her sake he made no effort to free himself
 
 404 
 
 BLUESK1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 from his captor's grasp. Tie might have escaped alone, 
 but he never thought of that. lie could not have n 
 Edgworth Bess, and he preferred captivity with her to 
 freedom without her. 
 
 A few minutes brought them to the ruined mill. 
 
 There was a crazy-looking staircase, or rather ladder, 
 which reached half-way up the mill, and then abruptly 
 terminated. 
 
 It seemed as though the upper portion had been broken 
 off. 
 
 To all appearances, the remaining part was so frail 
 that no one would have thought of risking their neck by 
 ascending it. 
 
 Besides, there was no motive to induce them to run 
 into so much danger, for the steps did not lead any- 
 where. 
 
 At least, visibly they did not. 
 
 But, as the reader doubtless suspects from the trouble 
 we have taken, there was a mystery connected with that 
 staircase. 
 
 Its frailness was nothing like so great as it appeared to 
 be. 
 
 It bad been made to purposely look so, however, for 
 the express purpose of deterring any stranger from as- 
 cending it. 
 
 And it answered the purpose admirably, for no one bad 
 as yet been rash enough to attempt it. 
 
 On reaching the bottom, however, the man who carried 
 Edgworth Bess shifted her from one arm to the other, 
 and ran up with the agility of a squirrel. 
 
 When within a few feet of the top, he paused and tapped 
 in a peculiar manner upon the woodwork of which the 
 mill was built. 
 
 Iu a moment an opening was disclosed by the slipping 
 away of several planks. 
 
 Through this opening he passed. 
 
 Jack was told to ascend before his captor, and he did 
 so. 
 
 Passing through the opening, he found himself at the 
 top of some more steps which led downwards. 
 
 The opening was closed up as soon as his captor was 
 inside, and then all was in profound darkness. 
 
 " Descend ! " was the word uttered in Jack's ear as the 
 man resumed his hold upon his collar. 
 
 As Edgworth Bess had gone before him, Jack was only 
 too glad to follow. 
 
 He was anxious in the extreme not to let her be one 
 moment out of sight, for fear that during the brief inter- 
 val some mischief might be done her which bis interposi- 
 tion would prevent. 
 
 Accordingly he descended, and with rather more ra- 
 pidity than his captor thought necessary, so he checked 
 him. 
 
 " Tou need not be in such a hurry to go down, my 
 young spark ; you will be glad enough to have a chance 
 to come up, I know." 
 
 Jack did not deign any reply to this, but he felt certain 
 that they were going down much lower than they had 
 come up. 
 
 And in this he was right, for he was now below the 
 level of the earth, and among the foundations of the old 
 mill. 
 
 At length the descent was stopped, and after proceed- 
 ing a few steps along a passage, they emerged into a 
 place, the appearance of which was curious enough. 
 
 It was a large place, but crossed iu every direction with 
 Luge beams of wood. 
 
 These were used to support the structure overhead, and 
 in their existence lay the secret of the mill continuing to 
 stand while in so ruinous a condition. 
 
 Jack looked about him with great curiosity. 
 
 The place was tolerably well lighted with a large fire 
 which was blazing iu the centre of the apartment, for so, 
 for want of some other name, we are compelled to desig- 
 nate it, and as £?** removed from any of the beams as. was 
 possible. 
 
 To Jack's joy he saw that Edgworth Bess was near this 
 fire, where the man had placed her, and he also saw that 
 she was giving signs of returning consciousness. 
 
 The two pirates, to whom, of course, Jack Sheppard 
 and Edgworth Bess were perfect strangers, evidently con- 
 sidered they were not capable of doing much harm, for 
 they released him, and the two were left to themselves. 
 
 Jack's first impulse was to rush to the side of the poor 
 
 heiress and to strive by all means in bis power to calm 
 her, to soothe her agitation, and restore her to her proper 
 self. 
 
 It was only natural that the pirates should have a p-ror 
 idea of Jack's prowess, for he looked very slim and boyii.li, 
 and as though quito incapable of striking a blow iu his 
 own defence. 
 
 And be retained this remarkable juvenility or' face and 
 form up to the day of his death. 
 
 For a long time all his efforts to restore Edgworth Bess 
 were quite iu vain, but eventually he succeeded. 
 
 They were interrupted by the arrival of the captain and 
 the rest of the band, bringing with them the treasure. 
 
 But that fatality of which we have spoken still seemed 
 to coutiuue to attach itself to it. 
 
 It brought nothing but misfortune upon its possessors. 
 
 We shall see how the pirates fared with it. 
 
 Jack could not help feeliug much chagrined when be 
 saw the ingots he had had so much trouble to obtain. 
 
 But he ought to have rejoiced to think the ill-fated 
 treasure was about to pass away from him. 
 
 There was a feeling of great elation about the hearts of 
 the pirate captain and his baud, and it showed itself iu 
 their countenances. 
 
 It was perhaps for this reason that they behaved more 
 leniently to Jack and Edgworth Bess than they generally 
 did to their prisoners. 
 
 At ordinary times such individuals as unfortuuately 
 fell into their clutches received the harshest of treatment. 
 
 But, looking upon Jack and his companion as a mere 
 boy and girl, they omitted to take such precautions as 
 they generally did. 
 
 A carouse was unanimously called for. 
 
 A large table was made by placing a broad piece of 
 wood on the tops of some barrels. 
 
 Other barrels of a smaller size furnished them with 
 seats. 
 
 Spirits were then produced and pipes lighted. 
 
 Then the carouse fairly began. 
 
 Such a boisterous one had perhaps never been kuosr 
 among the foundations of the old mill. 
 
 Shrinking down by the fire as far out of the way of the 
 pirates as possible, our two friends watched their every 
 movement with the greatest auxiousness. 
 
 Whenever he could do so Jack whispered words of con- 
 solation to the poor trembling girl by his side. 
 
 He showed her that they were far indeed from being 
 quite lost ; that they had their limbs at liberty ; and Jack 
 spoke confidently of making his escape. 
 
 And Edgworth Bess felt her spirits cheered by the 
 words he spoke, for she had great faith in his capa- 
 bilities. 
 
 Morning dawned, but they had no idea of it, for no ray 
 of daylight ever found its way to the pirates' subterranean 
 haunt. 
 
 Presently one of the men who had been seated with the 
 rest rose from his place and approached the fire. 
 
 His comrades scarcely noticed him, but our friends 
 watched him closely and eagerly. 
 
 On reaching the fire this man gave the embers a poke, 
 which caused them to burst into a flame. 
 
 Then, putting his baud in his pocket, he drew forth a 
 small piece of paper. 
 
 Why they felt their gaze so riveted upon that piece of 
 paper, Jack and Bess would have been puzzled to say, but 
 they gazed upon it with an all-absorbing interest. 
 
 Slowly the man unfolded it, and then they saw that 
 something was printed upon it in rather large letters. 
 
 The man perused it. 
 
 When he had read for a minute or two, he raised his 
 head and looked earnestly at Jack, whose face and form, 
 as well as his companion's, were plainly revealed by the 
 ruddy light of the fire. 
 
 Jack's anxiety changed to uneasiness. 
 
 It increased when he saw the man resume his reading, 
 and then fall to a perusal of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The man read the paper once more, and then, with a 
 satisfied look on his face, he restored it to bis pocket. 
 
 Probably our two friends alone noticed his actions. 
 
 Certainly they were the only two that attached any iai* 
 portance to them. 
 
 The carouse lasted a long while, but at length it came 
 to a conclusion. 
 
 Hours passed by.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 405 
 
 The pirates for the most part sluuk into out of the way 
 nooks and corners, where they laid down to sleep off the 
 effects of their dehauch. 
 
 From the time the man haa read the paper, Jack scarcely 
 took his eyes off him for a moment. 
 
 But presently he sluuk off like the rest. 
 
 At length there remained but one man in sight, and he 
 seemed drowsy to a degree. 
 
 It would appear, however, that he had been appointed 
 as a watch over the two prisoners. 
 
 Doubtless, the difficulties in the way of any stranger 
 making an escape from that place were very great. 
 
 Upon such a supposition only can we account for tha 
 pirates leaving our two friends as they did. 
 
 A profound silence prevailed in the place where for so 
 loner there had been such boisterous behaviour. 
 
 The man on guard sat on a cask, nodding his head buck- 
 wards and forwards in a somnolent sort of way. 
 
 It was now that Jack considered he had a favourable 
 opportunity of speaking to his companion, and he availed 
 himself of it. 
 
 She was clinging tightly to him, as though for protec- 
 tion against any peril that might assail her. 
 
 " Bess," said Sheppard, in a low, faint whisper. 
 "Bess! " 
 
 "Yes, Jack." 
 
 " Speak to me in a whisper, dear one, for fear we should 
 be overheard." 
 
 The young girl nodded. 
 
 " We must escape," continued Jack. 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " I know not yet. In the best manner we can. It is 
 imperative we should do so, and that at once, or we shall 
 fall into the hands of our ferocious foe." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " Even he ! " 
 
 Edgworth Bess cast a terrified glance around her. 
 
 " How could he come here ? " she asked. 
 
 " Hush ! I will tell you my suspicious. Did you notice 
 one of the men come to the fire and stir it ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And then did you notice that he took a paper from his 
 pocket ? " 
 
 "Yes," replied Edgworth Bess, " and he unfolded and 
 read it." 
 
 " He did," said Jack ; " but did you notice as he read it 
 that he from time to time interrupted himself to look at 
 us?" 
 
 " I remember he did look at us strangely, now you men- 
 tion it." 
 
 " Ah ! Then I can see, dearest, that you do not share 
 my suspicions." 
 
 " What are they ? — what are they ? Oh ! tell me — tell 
 me at once ! " 
 
 " I will. That paper ho was reading contained an 
 accurate description of both our persons, and tho reason 
 he kept looking up to us in tli9 manner he did was to 
 compare the description with us, and then see whether it 
 agreed." 
 
 " Oh ! Jack, you fill me with a thousand fonrs ! How 
 could he have a printed description of us ? for it was a 
 printed paper he held in his hand. I saw some of the 
 letters myself." 
 
 " So did I. In fact, I was able to make out one word 
 which stretched right across the paper ** 
 
 " What was that ? " 
 
 " Beward ! " 
 
 "Keward?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Tell me all, Jack, tell me all. This suspense is Tory 
 dreadful." 
 
 " I can give you my suspicions in a few words. If I 
 mistake not, that man is a spy iu tho envoloy of Jonathan 
 Wild." 
 
 "Oh! heaven!" 
 
 "Hush! hush!" 
 
 "I am still." 
 
 " Pray keep so, or we may fiud it quite impossible to 
 escape." 
 
 " I will ! I will ! Go on, Jack, go on ! " 
 
 " I say, then, it is my conviction that the man wo are 
 speaking of is a spy in the employ of Jonathan Wild — 
 that the paper he read contained an accurate description 
 of ourselves — that he has recornised us — and that he is 
 
 now on his way to Jonathan Wild, to inform him where 
 to fiud us ; and in a little while we may expect to see him 
 here, with a troop of janizaries at his buck. 
 
 Edgworth Bess glared into Jack's face as Be uttered 
 these words with an expression of speechless dismay. 
 
 For a moment she felt as though she should swoon, 
 but with a great effort she l-ecovered herself. 
 
 "Oh! Jack! Slick!" she moaned, "we are lost! What 
 can wa do ? " 
 
 "Escape!" said Jack, in a hoarse whisper ! "Escape!" 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXVII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS MADE ACQUAINTED WITH THE 
 WHEREABOUTS OF JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH 
 BESS. 
 
 As it s-» happened, Jack Sheppard's suspicions were per- 
 fectly well founded and correct. 
 
 The man who he had seen come to the fire was, indeed, 
 no other than one of Jonathan Wild's spies. 
 
 We have often adverted to the extensive system of 
 espionage which the thief-taker kept up. 
 
 He had spies, as one might say, everywhere. 
 
 It was the duty of these men to report anything impor- 
 tant which came under their notice, and they were sure of 
 having a good reward for doing so. 
 
 This was tolerably well known, and it may bo stated 
 with precision that no body of men of any number ever 
 assembled, either in or about the metropolis, without 
 numbering amougst them one of the spies. 
 
 In fact, in every place where there was the remotest 
 probability of their being of any use to him, there was a 
 spy to be found. 
 
 Now Jonathan Wild, iu his anxiety to capture our three 
 friends, had taken what he considered were some very 
 effective steps indeed. 
 
 And so they were. 
 
 He had some bills privately printed, offering thirty 
 pounds reward. 
 
 One of fhese he had placed in the hands of every one of 
 his spies, whose particular instructions were to mako 
 themselves well acquainted with the contents of it. 
 
 These bills contained — 
 
 A close and accurate description of Edgworth Bess, 
 Jack Sheppard, and Blueskiu. 
 
 Knowing them so well as he did, Jonathan was able to 
 describe them with very great exactness. 
 
 The terms of the bill were as follows. 
 
 The reward was divided into three equal portions of 
 ten pounds each, and these sums would be given to any 
 one who pointed out the position of the fugitives. 
 
 If one was seen, tbe man who saw him only had to go 
 to Jonathan with the information and receive the reward. 
 
 Now, this pirate we have referred to had received a bill 
 in common with the rest, but, considering ho stood not 
 the slightest chance of meeting with the persons described, 
 he had paid very little attention to it. 
 
 But, while sitting carousing with his mates, the idea all 
 at once came into his head that the prisoners they had 
 taken were two of the persons Wild wanted. 
 
 If so, he was, of course, entitled to the sum of twenty 
 pounds. 
 
 It was worth a little troublo to ascertain this, so he 
 watched hi«> opportunity, and, going to the fire, read tho 
 paper in the manner we have described. 
 
 The description given of Jack Sheppard and Edgworth 
 Bess so entirely corresponded with the two persons before 
 him, that he had not the shadow of a doubt even left 
 upon his mind. 
 
 Accordingly he folded up the paper and returned it to 
 his pocket. 
 
 He had resumed his seat with his comrades, but he 
 took care to drink with far greater moderation than they 
 did. 
 
 At length, when the carouse was over— he knew it 
 would have attracted notice, if not suspicion, had he left 
 before — the man withdrew along with the rest, for tho 
 ostensible purpose of lying down somewhere and sleeping 
 off the effects of what he bad drank. 
 
 Instead of doing this, however, ho had made bis way to 
 tho passage leading from the mill- 
 He passed by a sentinel who was asleep on his post, and 
 ascending the steps, lift the mill by means of the crazy- 
 looking ladder.
 
 400 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Upon emerging iuto the open air be found it much later 
 tlmu be could bave thought. 
 
 Evening was fast drawing in, ana already the more dis- 
 tant objects around him were involved in gloom. 
 
 But at that time of the year the clays are short, arid on 
 this particular clay it was darker much earlier than usual, 
 for a dense mist that had risen from the river snread 
 itself over tbe laud. 
 
 Pain would this spy of Jonathan Wild's have adopted 
 some additional means of keeping the two prisoners 
 secure, but that was a matter in which he felt he dared 
 not interfere, so he was obliged to leave things as they 
 were, and trust to them not being able to escape. 
 
 He made the best of his way to the thief-taker's resi- 
 dence in Newgate-street. 
 
 But it took him some time to reach it, and when ho 
 arrived it was quite dark. 
 
 He knocked at the door, and was answered by Tonks, 
 who told him Jonathan was at home. 
 The spy then took the bill from his pocket, and said— 
 " Please to give this to Mr. Wild, and tell him I am 
 waiting for an answer." 
 The spy knew very well that he should be understood. 
 Breathless Tonics came into Hie hall. 
 "Upstairs," lie said; "go upstairs. He is in the froul 
 room on the first-floor. Mind you knock before you go in." 
 With this friendly caution, Tonka stood aside and 
 illowed him to ascend the stairs. 
 
 The spy easily enough found the door to which Tonics 
 uad directed him, and he knocked at it in a very h i 
 manner indeed, having first pulled his hat off. 
 
 He heard a growling sound follow his knock, and he 
 translated it into "come in," so he opened the door 
 accordingly. 
 
 The room was quite full of tobacco-smoke, so that he 
 could scarcely see across it. 
 
 Through the mist, however, he presently discerned the 
 form of the thief-taker, and that of some other person 
 seated at the table. 
 That was the the thief-taker's son. 
 The precious pair had been smoking for some time, and 
 occupying themselves with the concoction of fresh 
 villainies. 
 
 The reader will remember that when we referred to 
 Wild and his son last, they were both engaged in specu- 
 lating upon the same point. 
 
 The result of their reflections was this. 
 Jonathan Wild made up his mind that he would trust 
 his son, but no further than was necessary. 
 
 On the other hand, George had come to the determina- 
 tion to join his fortunes to his father's, carry out all his 
 instructions, and be faithful until he could see a time 
 when his purpose would be best answered by betraying 
 him. 
 
 Such was the hollow kind of understanding which had 
 been come to between the precious pair. 
 
 Two such clever ones as they were were not at all suit- 
 able for partners. 
 
 We shall see how events progressed. 
 At present they were on the best of terms with each 
 other. 
 With these words of explanation we will resume. 
 " You sent me this paper," said Wild, senior. " Aiz I 
 to understand by that that you have some information to 
 give me respecting the people described ? " 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild, sir, if you please." 
 " I do please, villain." 
 
 " Then, Mr. Wild, I humbly ask for the reward." 
 "What reward?" 
 " Twenty pounds." 
 " Ya— ah ! " 
 
 " I have found two of the persons described there." 
 " Where are they — where are they P Tell me where 
 they are, and you shall have the reward." 
 
 And Jonathan put his pocket-book on the table. 
 " Take it easy," interposal, his son. " You know easy 
 always does it." 
 "Easy be d-d!" 
 
 "All right, guv'ner. You're going to fail again.' 
 " Stop your jaw." 
 
 " I might just as well, for you are as obstinate as a pig, 
 and it's not a bit of good talking reason to you." 
 
 And Wild, junior, relapsed iuto silence— resuming his 
 pipe with great energy, 
 
 The spy looked with something like wonder at the 
 young man who had dared to treat the great thief-taker 
 in so defiant and off-hand a manner. 
 
 But of course he said nothing. 
 
 Jonathan Wild took two ten pound notes from his 
 purse. 
 
 "Now," he said, "here's the reward. You shall have 
 it the moment you tell me which are the two you have 
 found, and where they are." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Which are the two ? " 
 
 " The boy and the girl." 
 
 "The boy and the «irl ? *" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Oh! I know. All right. Goon. Where are they ?' 
 
 " I can take you to them at once. But I should like tc 
 givo you some particulars." 
 
 " Go on." 
 
 Having received this permission, the spy proceeded to 
 state how he had been in the boat on the Thames along 
 with the Thames pirates, and how they had captured a 
 wherry with two prisoners in it and a quantity of silver 
 
 Willi a yell, Jonathan sprang to his feet. 
 '' Mine, at last," he cried. " Mine, at last! All iuiu c 
 —all!" 
 
 "Easy does it, guv'ner. Easy does it," iuterpo ■! 
 Wild, junior, again. "It appears to me, you have ol 
 some very important information indeed." 
 " I have — I have." 
 
 "But don't make a rumpus. Give the man bis reward 
 if he has earned it, and then we can talic over matters." 
 " Yes-no." 
 
 " I'm d— d if you ain't going mad, guv'ner. What d: 
 you mean by yes and no ? " 
 " Silence, idiot." 
 " The same to you." 
 
 " I meant yes, I would give the man his reward, bavin? 
 fairly earned it, and no because I should not stop to talk 
 matters over." 
 
 " Oh ! very well, guv'ner. Have things your own si upid 
 way, and be d — d to you." 
 
 " George." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " While you behave as you do we shall never get on." 
 
 " You mean yourself." 
 
 " Bah." 
 
 " I have had occasion to remark, at least twenty times 
 you are the d — dest fool alive." 
 
 " Cease this folly, I say. You waste too much time ia 
 useless deliberation. That is how we missed them. Give 
 me prompt action." 
 
 " So say I, guv'ner, but, before I begin a thing, I like 
 to know what I am going to do." 
 
 " But, can't you see ? Don't you understand ? The 
 boat we fired at fell into the hands of these Thames 
 pirates. They made the two persons in it prisoners, and 
 have conveyed them and the treasure to their secret 
 haunt, which is well known to me. What could be more 
 simple ? I will summon my men, and set off in pursuit." 
 
 Jonathan did not wait to hear what his son said to this, 
 but banged away with his bludgeon on the table at a furious 
 rate. 
 
 Tonks was not long before he made his appearance. 
 
 The order was then given to assemble all the men he 
 could in the shortest possible space of time, and for them 
 to bring spare horses to the door. 
 
 " Shall I go with him, Mr. Wild ? " asked the spy. 
 
 " Yes, and get a horse for yourself, so as to accompany 
 us. Stay, here is your reward." 
 
 Jonathan handed the man the two ten pound notes he 
 had taken from his purse. 
 
 Then he disappeared along with Tonks. 
 
 In the meantime, Jonathan Wild very deliberately 
 knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and proceeded to look 
 to his weapons. 
 
 His delightful son followed his example. 
 
 " Now, George," he said. " Come with me." 
 
 " All right, guv'ner. I'm a coming." 
 
 "And don't treat me to so much of your jaw. I don't 
 like it." 
 
 " Then you shan't hare it, guv'ner. There, now, that 
 fixes you, and you can't get beyond that. Lor', now, if 
 you would only take things easy like I do. But you are
 
 BLTJESK.IN : A R01IANCE. 
 
 407 
 
 so very violent, aud fly into a passion about nothing at 
 all." 
 
 "Bah. 
 
 "You don't lite to be told of your faults. Very few 
 do. I wouldn't myself. But, guv'ner." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " How are you going to act ?" 
 
 " How I said." 
 
 " Shall you attack these pirates, or ask them to give up 
 their prisoners ? " 
 
 " Attack them." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Don't you see, George, I shall not only accomplish 
 my own individual ends, but I shall also get credit with 
 the authorities as well." 
 
 "A very desirable thing, I should think." 
 
 " Oh ! very. I don't stand in quite such good odour 
 with them as I did a little while ago." 
 This is a chance, theu, guv'ner." 
 
 " It is. You see, while securing Jack Sheppard and 
 Edgworth Bess, I shall capture a strong band of Thames 
 pirates." 
 
 " Did you know of their existence ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; from the first." 
 
 "You are a wonderful man, guv'ner, sifter all." 
 
 Jonathan pretended not to notice this compliment, but 
 continued — 
 
 " Only it never answered my purpose to apprehend 
 them — never having been in my way, you understand — but 
 now the case is quite altered." 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " Why, I shall win renown in this achievement. By 
 delivering up these offenders to justice who have so long 
 defied the laws, and set at nought every attempt to capture 
 them, I shall obtain such a reputation, and make my 
 position so secure, that I shall be able to defy all my 
 numerous enemies." 
 
 While this little conversation had been going on, 
 neither Jonathan Wild nor his son were what could be 
 called idle. 
 
 They occupied themselves with their weapons and in 
 storing ammunition about their persons, as well as making 
 necessary alterations in their apparel. 
 
 By the time they had concluded, they heard the clatter- 
 ing of horses' hoofs on the stones in the street below. 
 
 " Come, George," said Wild. " The horses are wait- 
 ing." 
 
 "lam ready, guv'ner. At least, have you got a sword 
 in the house ? " 
 
 " What for P You have one by your sido." 
 
 " I know I have." 
 
 " What more do you want ? " 
 
 " Why, I suppose it is one of yours, and it is a great 
 deal heavier in the blade than I like." 
 
 " I have a lighter one here." 
 
 Jonathan opened a cupboard-door as he spoke, and dis- 
 closed ^ a great number and variety of offensive and 
 defensive weapons. 
 
 George Wild soon found a sword that would suit him, 
 and being thus provided he followed his father down the 
 staircase to the front door of the house. 
 
 Two of the bull-dogs were holding a couple of spare 
 horses by the bridles, and Wild and his son vaulted into 
 their saddles without delay. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD ATTACKS THE PIRATES IN THE RUINED 
 MILL. 
 
 Our readers must understand that the events we have 
 just recorded took plac9 on the day which followed the 
 night when Blueskin had his extraordinary adventure in 
 Westminster Abbey. 
 
 That day which Blueskin had passed the greater part 
 of asleep at the little coffee-house in Westminster, where 
 he had some refreshment. 
 
 The reader will be able to call to mind that when he 
 rose it was just getting dark, and that he set out to New- 
 gate-street in the hope of being able to pick up some 
 information >spectiug Jack Sheppard and Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 By the time he arrived opposite the thief-taker's resi- 
 dence it was quite dark, and night had fairly set in. 
 
 It was while here that Blueskin heard the trampling of 
 
 horses' hoofs, and drew aside into the shadow of a conti- 
 guous doorway, in order to observe what took place. 
 
 He was rewarded for his trouble by seeing the baud of 
 bull-dogs ride up, and Jonathau and his son eaiorgo from 
 the house aud mount the two steeds provided for them. 
 
 To Blueskin the person of George Wild was very well 
 known, and he recognised him instantly. 
 
 He recollected, too, quite well the circumstances under 
 which he had left his father's house, and he marvelled 
 greatly at his return. 
 
 And more still at the palpable fact that he was on good 
 terms with his rascally parent. 
 
 This afforded Blueskin matter for much uneasy 
 thought. 
 
 Jonathan had got an ally. 
 
 He had been treacherous, but what of that ? Perhaps 
 he would not be again. 
 
 Blueskin watched Jonathan and his son mount. 
 
 He saw them turn their horses' heads and go in the 
 direction of the city. 
 
 Then, as we have elsewhere related, Blueskiu went into 
 a stable for the purpose of procuring a horse, aud then 
 missed them. 
 
 Wo will follow Jonathan and his myrmidons. 
 
 At a very rapid pace he led the way in the direction of 
 London-bridge, crossing over which he proceeded through 
 the village of Bermondsey to Rotherhithe. 
 
 The spy took upon himself the office of guide. 
 
 At length the old mill was reached. 
 
 The pirates were within, drinking and carousing, and 
 little dreaming of the attack which was about to be made 
 upon them. 
 
 They had everything to fear from such an attack. 
 
 Their treacherous comrade would point out to the 
 assailants the weakest part in the defences. 
 
 He would lead them into the citadel. 
 
 The force Jonathan brought with him was a strong one, 
 considering the pirates he was about to attack did not 
 number more than a dozen men. 
 
 Such being the case, he was able to post several as 
 sentinels without weakening the main body too much. 
 
 This he did. 
 
 Then when every preparation was made. 
 
 When every man had his weapons ready for immediate 
 service. 
 
 Jonathan Wild aud his son followed the spy up the 
 ricketty flight of steps on the outside of the mill. 
 
 So far all was well. 
 
 Now the difficulties of the enterprise would begin. 
 
 The spy tapped on the piece of woodwork in the side of 
 the mill in the peculiar manner which would be recog- 
 nised by the sentinel inside. 
 
 The piece of wood slid away in a moment. 
 
 The spy had made Jonathan and George stand back, so 
 that when the door opened the man inside should not see 
 them and give the alarm. 
 
 In a quiet way the spy stepped through the doorway 
 into the little landing inside the mill, and the moment he 
 did so, instead of descending to the room below as the 
 man on guard fully expected he wouid, he turned round 
 and grasped him by the throat so tight that the man 
 could make no articulate sound. 
 
 " Silence," he said, " or you are a dead man. If you 
 offer to move or speak I will plunge this knife into your 
 heart." 
 
 The man was cowed by the stern, determined way in 
 which these words were uttered, and he became passive 
 at once. 
 
 Jonathan Wild appeared at the opening. 
 
 He could not see inside the mill on account of the in- 
 tense darkness which prevailed there, but the spy could 
 see him plainly enough, because his body was much darker 
 than the night sky behind it. 
 
 " All right, Mr. Wild," he said, in a whisper. " I have 
 got the sentinel a prisoner. Here he is." 
 
 The spy dragged tho man forward as he spoke, and 
 Jonathan caught hold of him. 
 
 It was the easiest matter in the world for the thief- 
 taker, gifted with such extraordinary strength as he was, 
 to take hold of this man by the neck and drag him through | 
 the aperture on to the ladder. j 
 
 The man, who fully believed his hiat hour was come, I 
 
 and who was besides a coward, offered no resistance. / 
 
 When he had got him on the ladder, Jonathan cassed !
 
 408 
 
 BLTJESKDJ: A ROMANCE. 
 
 him down to his son, who in Lis turn handed him to the 
 man who stood next. 
 
 It was in this way that the spy reached the ground, and 
 upon his arrival there he was immediately strongly 
 secured. M . 
 
 The spy now bade Jonathan follow him, describing the 
 nature Ci the place as he did so. 
 
 JonathJ;r. complied. 
 
 Then the descent cf the interior staircase was com- 
 menced and accomplished in safety. 
 
 At the bottom of these stairs, the reader will recollect, 
 tbere was a passage. 
 
 In this Jonathan came to a halt, and, as noiselessly as 
 possible, assembled his men in a body, so that tbey would 
 be in a condition when he gave the wood of command to 
 rush forward in a mass and take tbe pirates by storm. 
 
 Tbe sounds of drinking, shouting, singing, swearing, all 
 reached their ears in a bewildering chorus. 
 
 At length the men were properly assembled, and then 
 tbe spy pointed out a door that was before them. 
 
 It could bo seen, because thera was a strong light 
 within which made itself visible through numerous 
 crevices botb in and around it. 
 
 Tbe spy led the way. 
 
 He knew just where the fastening of the door was 
 situated, and be placed bis band upon it. 
 
 In suppressed tones Wild said — 
 
 " Forward." 
 
 Tbe men made a rush, and the same moment the spy, 
 dinging the door open, allowed tbem to pass. 
 
 The interior of tbe apartment presented much the 
 same appearance as it did when we last described it. 
 
 That is to say, the table was put up, and the pirates 
 were seated around it carousing. 
 
 But at tbe trampling of feet and tbe sight of Wild's 
 men, they rose to tbeir feet iu tbe greatest dismay. 
 
 Their weapons had been laid aside, for nothing was 
 further from their thoughts than that an attack would be 
 made upon them. 
 
 "Surrender!' 7 yelled Wild, at tbe top of his voice. 
 " Surrender. You cannot escape, and if you give in at 
 once your lives will be spared. Surrender, I say — 
 surrender ! " 
 
 "Never!" said tbe pirate enptaiu, in tones a good 
 octave higher than Wild's. " Don't believe him, my 
 gallant comrades. Down with him. Seize your weapons 
 Hurrah!" 
 
 The pirates, who had just drank enough to make them- 
 selves valiant, responded to the hurrah their leader had 
 uttered, and then hastily possessed themselves of their 
 arms. 
 
 Seeing this, Wild instantly gave the word for an attack 
 to be made upon them. 
 
 A terrific conflict ensued. 
 
 The table and the barrels under and around it were 
 overturned. 
 
 Foremost in the fray — brandishing his huge heavy 
 hanger around him as if it was a straw — Jonathan Wild 
 personally proved the most deadly foe the pirates bad to 
 encounter. 
 
 George Wild seconded his efforts in a manner which 
 showed that, let his vices, deficiencies, and failings be what 
 they might, cowardice was not one of them. 
 
 The pirates, however, gave no symptoms of submitting 
 and paid not the slightest attention when they were called 
 upon to surrender. 
 
 Jonathan's men suffered severely. 
 
 Tbe contest was chiefly a baud to band one with swords, 
 very few pistol shots being fired. 
 
 At length, after fighting for nearly a quarter of an hour, 
 those few pirates who survived flung down their weapons 
 and sued for quarter. 
 
 This was immediately given, for Jonathan would much 
 rather have had them alive than dead, so they were securely 
 bound. 
 
 Having succeeded thus far, Jonathan had the most Im- 
 portant part of tbe business to do. 
 That was to secure the two prisoners. 
 When he had done that, bis triumph would be almost 
 complete. 
 
 When the spy f.uug open the door, tbe first thing he 
 did was to look iu the direction of the fire, where ho had 
 left the two captives seated. 
 They were no longer there. 
 
 A dread was in his heart that, after all, be should be 
 baulked of the additional reward which would fall to hia 
 share provided they were captured. 
 
 Familiar as he was with the intricacies of the place, 
 he darted at once among the timber support and began 
 an ardent search. 
 
 Every step he took, though, only served to confirm him 
 in the idea that the prisoners had escaped. 
 
 It was not long before he had made a close examination 
 of the underground apartment, hut the result of it was 
 that they were nowhere to be found. 
 
 It was just as ho felt sure of this, and emerged from 
 among the timber, that Jonathan Wild, having achieved a 
 complete victory over the pirates, turned to commence the 
 search. 
 
 His eye fell upon the spy. 
 
 "The prisoners!" he yelled. "The prisoners! lake 
 me to the place where they are confined. Quick ! quick ! 
 I snv." 
 
 "Mr. Wild" 
 
 " What, villain ? " 
 
 " When I left here to seek for you they were seated 
 there, close to the fire." 
 
 "Ha!" 
 
 " And now they are nowhere to be found, although I 
 have closely searched the place in every direction." 
 
 " A thousand curses ! Disperse — disperse, all of you ! 
 Take torches from the fire, and leave not a nook or corner 
 of this place unvisited ; they have doubtless hidden them- 
 selves during the affray." 
 
 The men obeyed. 
 
 "Mr. Wild," said the spy, catching hold of the thief- 
 taker by the skirt of his coat, and arresting his farther 
 progress ; " Mr. Wild." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 Jonathan turned round suddenly. 
 
 An angry look was iu his eyes. 
 
 " Would you permit me— humbly permit me — to offer 
 you a suggestion ? " 
 
 " What is it ? Speak." 
 
 "During my absence the pirates may have thought tbo 
 prisoners not altogether safe." 
 
 "Ha! I see." 
 
 " And they may have adopted some precautions to keep 
 them in safety. I would recommend you to speak to the 
 chief, and question him about them." 
 
 " I will— point him out to me." 
 
 The pirate captain was a prisoner and rather severely 
 wounded. 
 
 Jonathan strode up to him. 
 
 In a voice of assumed calmness he spoke. 
 
 " You took two prisoners last night in a boat on the 
 Thames ? " 
 
 The captain nodded. 
 
 " I want them." 
 
 The captain shook his head. 
 
 " Tell me where they are— show mo where you have 
 placed tbem, and your life shall be spared. I promise 
 you that." 
 
 The captain again shook his head. 
 
 Wild grew impatient. 
 
 He held his sword in a threatening attitude. 
 
 " Now tell me where they are," he said, " or you die 
 instantly." 
 
 The pirate captain made several very powerful efforts 
 to speak. 
 
 Ho opened his mouth and a gush of blood came from 
 it. 
 
 Then he managed to articulate the one word— 
 
 " Escaped ! " 
 
 " Escaped ! " yelled Wild, in a voice of frenzied fury. 
 " Escaped ! — how, when, where ? " 
 
 But these questions were not replied to. 
 
 The bead of the pirate captain suddenly fell forward on 
 his breast. 
 
 The muscles in his neck appeared to have lost their 
 rigidity. 
 
 He was dead. 
 
 Tbe men who held him found he became a dead weight 
 in their grasp. 
 
 They relented him. 
 
 He fell headloug to the floor. 
 
 To describe Jonathan's rage would be altogether ua« 
 possible.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 409 
 
 I 1 
 
 [the three fugitives halt at the suicide's grave.] 
 
 He cursed, he swore, he tore about the place like a 
 madman in the direst extremity of delirium. 
 
 These repes,ted defeats were trying in the extreme to 
 Jonathan's temper — never one of the gentlest and most 
 amiable. 
 
 Had fate determined that he should be for ever baffled 
 and defeated in all his attempts against these two per- 
 sons ? 
 
 It looked like it. 
 
 But Jonathan would not have it so. 
 
 Taking a large piece of pinewood from the fire, the shape 
 of which was something like a torch, and which was 
 blazing brightly, he held it aloft above his head, and 
 dashed into the recesses in the foundations of the old 
 mill. 
 
 Narrowly and closely did he search, for Jonathan Wild 
 was of course quite an expert and proficient at that sort 
 of thing. 
 
 He never went over the same ground twice, and he left 
 no t)lace unvieited. 
 
 But the numberless beams of wood, crossing and recros- 
 sing each other as they did iu every direction, were rather 
 bewildering even to him. 
 
 In and out he went — up and down — followed at every 
 step by his men. 
 
 In their closest search, however, they were unable to 
 find a trace either of those of whom they were in search 
 or of any outlet to the place. 
 
 Jonathan looked as closely after one as the other, and 
 when he could not find there was any means of egress 
 from the underground apartment besides that by which 
 he had entered, he came to the conclusion that the two 
 fugitives were only hiding somewhere. 
 
 If they were in the mill, Jonathan determined to have 
 them. 
 
 They could not leave it if they had not already done so, 
 for the place was surrounded on the outside by his men, 
 who would not on any account permit them to pass. 
 
 #«. 52.
 
 a in 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXIX. 
 
 THE ADVENTUKES OF JACK SIIEPPARD AND EDGWORTH 
 BESS IN THE RUINED MILL. 
 
 Leaving Jonathan Wild and his band of janizaries, as be 
 loved to call them, to prosecute tbeir search among the 
 intricate foundations of the old mill, we will turn our 
 attention to Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess them- 
 selves, and relate what took place after we saw them 
 last. 
 
 When last presented to the reader, they were seated 
 close to the fire which was now fast expiring. 
 
 The furious carouse in which the pirates had been in- 
 dulging had come to a conclusion. 
 
 One by one they had slunk away into odd nooks and 
 corners, in order to sleep off the fumes of what they had 
 drank. 
 
 The spy had started to find Jonathan Wild, and to be- 
 tray bis comrades. 
 
 One man had been left as a kind of sentinel or watch 
 over the prisoners. 
 
 lie had partaken rather freely of the contents of the 
 cup, and he was more fit to join his comrades in their 
 slumber than anything else. 
 
 Every now and then his eyes would close, and his head 
 drop upon his breast, but with a start he would recover 
 himself and look around him. 
 
 He struggled manfully against the combined soporific 
 tendencies of what he had drunk and the fire before which 
 he sat. 
 
 Jack and Edgworth Bess had taken advantage of tbis 
 state of things to have the little conversation with each 
 other which we have already placed before the eyes of the 
 reader. 
 
 The former had communicated to bis companion the 
 suspicions which the behaviour of the spy had engendered 
 in his breast, and, as we are aware, had come to a toler- 
 ably correct conclusion concerning the whole matter. 
 
 Then, when Edgworth Bess, in a voice of the utmost 
 terror, and almost ready to swoon, bad asked him what 
 they should do, Jack had replied, in tones of resolution, 
 by twice uttering the word — 
 
 " Escape ! " 
 
 That was, indeed, the ®nly course open to them, but how 
 were tbey to achieve such a feat ? 
 
 Jack could not have told himself. 
 
 He was not blind to the difficulties and dangers in the 
 way ; he kept his eyes open to them all ; but he would 
 not permit them to be magnified, and so be the means of 
 causing him unnecessary alarm. 
 
 He looked every one of them, as one might say, calmly 
 in tbe face, and considered in what way he should be best 
 able to overcome them. 
 
 In the first place, there was the man who was keeping 
 watch. 
 
 In what way should he be dealt with ? 
 
 It would seem as though, ere long, he would sail off 
 into a deep sleep. 
 
 The coast would then be clear. 
 
 It was almost too much to hope for, though. 
 
 Tbe man might struggle against slumber for a long 
 time — so long that the prisoners would be unable to avail 
 themselves of it in the manner intended. 
 
 He must be prevented from giving an alarm. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was little more than a moment in arriving 
 at these conclusions. 
 
 His invention was fertile, and he quicklv bit upon a 
 plan of making this man secure. 
 
 Noticing that he was in a half-doze, Jack abstracted 
 from bis pocket a quantity of rather thick twine. 
 
 He motioned to Edgworth Bess to remain still, and on 
 no account to move. 
 
 The poor girl obeyed, and watched what he was about 
 to do with anxious, wondering eyes. 
 
 Having selected a portion of tbo twine, whii-h was 
 several feet in length, he doubled it four times and twisted 
 it. 
 
 Tbis done, he gently changed his position. 
 
 He sank down until his body was on a level with the 
 floor, and then cautiously crept forward like a st ake. 
 He held the piece of twine in his hand. 
 He had not to creep more than a yard before ho came 
 to) where the man was sitting. 
 His feet were close together upon the ground. 
 
 With great dexterity and caution Jack slipped the twine 
 round his ankles. 
 
 In one end of it he made a running noose, so he was 
 able to gradually draw it tight and then secure it. 
 
 Edgworth Bess watched him with bated breath and a 
 beating heart, for she every moment dreaded that the man 
 would wake up sufficiently to become aware of what Jack 
 was about. 
 
 But he did not. 
 _ He moved uneasily now and then, and shifted his posi- 
 tion slightly. 
 
 At such times as those Jack took care to remain pro- 
 foundly still, and not to move in the least. 
 
 Presently his legs were firmly bound together, and 
 then, with a triumphant expression on his countenance, 
 Jack crept back to the side of his fair companion. 
 
 But he held his finger on his lip as a sign for her to 
 remain silent. 
 
 He had done much, but ho had a great deal more to 
 do. 
 
 Emboldened, however, by bis previous success, some 
 more twine was selected. 
 
 A slip-knot was also made in this. 
 
 Jack now prepared to creep forward again. 
 
 Edgworth Bess seemed much terrified, and expressed as 
 much by her gestures. 
 
 Jack, however, by a smile strove to reassure her, and 
 made her a sign to give him a thick shawl which she wore 
 round her shoulders. 
 
 Unable to imagine for whatever purpose this could be 
 required, the girl, Math looks of great curiosity, took it 
 off and handed it to him. 
 
 Thus provided, Jack crept forward again. 
 
 But this time he did not go in a straight line to the 
 half-sleeping sentinel. 
 
 On the contrary, he seemed to crawl away from him, 
 but Edgworth Bess soon found out what were his inten- 
 tions. 
 
 He was creeping round, so as to get behind him. 
 
 It seemed a weary time while he was doing this. 
 
 But Jack was cautious and stealthy in his movements, 
 and consequently slow. 
 
 He was all but noiseless. 
 
 At length Jack was fairly at the back of the sleeping 
 man. 
 
 Then he cautiously rose to his feet, until he stood at his 
 full height behind him. 
 
 Jack had the thick shawl over his shoulder. 
 
 In both his hands be held the pieco of twine, which 
 was already in the form of a noose. _ 
 
 Gently, then, and scarcely breathing as he did so, Jack 
 slipped the noose over the sentinel's head, and allowed it 
 to descend until it was in such a position that, by drawing 
 the knot tight, he should be able to bind the man's arms 
 tight to bis sides just above his elbows. 
 
 With his heart beating at a faster rate than usual, Jack 
 proceeded to draw the string tight. 
 
 Bit by bit he drew it in, until at last, to his inexpres- 
 sible satisfaction, he had the man secure. 
 
 To a great extent he was now powerless. 
 
 His hands and feet being secured in the manner we 
 have described, it was out of the question that he should 
 be able to do anything towards ai*resting their flight. 
 
 There was only one thing that he could do, and that 
 was to raise the alarm by uttering an outcry. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard had not omitted that contingency 
 in his calculations. 
 
 He had provided the thick shawl for the purpose of pre- 
 cluding all possibility of that. 
 
 Having done so much, and scarcely daring to draw his 
 breath, Jack took the ends of the shawl in his hands, and, 
 having folded it properly, with great swiftness put it 
 over the man's head, and tied it tightly at tbe back. 
 
 It covered not only bis mouth but his ears, and nose, 
 and his eyes, thus depriving him at once of hearing, 
 seeing, and speaking, and permitting him to breathe in 
 only a limited manner. 
 
 No sooner was the shawl tied thus than the sentinel 
 made a desperate effort to shout out and then to rise. 
 
 But in both of these, it may be said, ho failed utterly, 
 for his voice came no louder than a murmur, and on 
 springing off his seat, he fell heavily on the ground. 
 
 No sound loud enough to attract attention or to cause 
 an alarm followed this, and Jack Sheppard made a hast?
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 411 
 
 sign to Edgworth Bess to leave hei crouched-up position 
 by the side of the fire, and come towards him. 
 
 Trembling in every limb, and scarcely daring to breathe, 
 the poor girl obeyed him. 
 
 She was terrified to a degree by the man Jack'had so 
 skilfully bound, and who continued to writhe and contort 
 himself upon the floor in a manner quite astonishing to 
 behold. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had been in an agony of terror during 
 the whole of Jack's proceedings, and now she seemed as 
 though her limbs would sink beneath her. 
 
 Jack saw the state of agitation she was in, and sprang 
 forward to her assistance, but not until he had divested 
 the sentinel — if such he could be called — of his sword and 
 other defensive weapons. 
 
 Thus provided, Jack felt himself in a position to do 
 battle with as many of the poor heiress's foes as chose to 
 present themselves before him. 
 
 One arm encircled the persecuted girl's waist. 
 
 She leaned her head upon his shoulder and clung 
 frantically to him with her arms. 
 
 But Jack reassured her, and spoke encouraging words, 
 by which means he succeeded in calming her agitation. 
 
 Then he glanced coolly around him, and, as well as the 
 faint fire-light would permit him, took in the general 
 aspect of the place. 
 
 How he was to really escape from the mill and gain the 
 open air, Jack had no definite idea. 
 
 But he meant to do it somehow or other, and, if he 
 failed now, he might say farewell to ever succeeding at a 
 future period. 
 
 He had noticed how the pirates had retired in all direc- 
 tions among the timber, and he was naturally afraid of 
 encountering some of them, when, of course, an alarm 
 would be immediately given. 
 
 It was quite in vain, though, that Jack tried to indicate 
 the spot where he had entered by means of the little door, 
 which was not visible from the interior. 
 
 The only thing he had to guide him was the direction 
 which the spy had taken. 
 
 The gloom of the place was very great, and, after a 
 momentary hesitation, Jack took a blazing brand from the 
 fire, and determined, at all risks, to make uso of it to aid 
 him in his explorations. 
 
 He had nothing else about him which would answer his 
 purpose. 
 
 With some little difficulty he persuaded his terrified 
 companion to carry this light, but it was not until he told 
 her the true reason of his wishing her to do so that she 
 complied. 
 
 It was in order that Jack might still continue to hold 
 his arm round her waist and support her steps, and so 
 that he could have his right hand to grasp his sword, and 
 so be in a position to defend himself from any attack that 
 might be made upon them. 
 
 It was not until he had told her this that she complied, 
 and then, struck with the obvious necessity of such a 
 course, she took the extemporized torch, though her hand 
 trembled so much as she held it that its extinguishment 
 seemed imminent. 
 
 Slowly and silently Jack Sheppard now led the way 
 across the strange underground apartment. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 It was evident that as yet no suspicions were excited. 
 
 The man by the fire, from some cause or other, had 
 eeased his struggles and contortions. 
 
 Perhaps the shawl fitted just a little too closely over 
 his nose and mouth. 
 
 Jack was not likely to trouble himself much about that. 
 
 The beams of wood, if they had been erected for the 
 express purpose of confusing anybody, could not have 
 been designed better for achieving that end. 
 
 When he passed among their mazy intricacies, Jack was 
 fain to confess himself fairly bewildered. 
 
 But he pushed on, and presently, no less to his astonish- 
 ment than his delight, he saw before him a rudely-made 
 wooden door, which he concluded at once must be tho one 
 through which he had been dragged by his captors. • / 
 
 The reader must be kind enough to remember that- 
 Bess did not recover from her swoon until she was placed 
 beside the fire they had just left, so, of course, she had 
 not the remotest knowledge of the route by which she had 
 been brought to that subterraneous region. 
 
 But with Jack Sheppard the case was entirely different. 
 
 To be sure his intellect was somewhat confused in 
 ccnsequc2.ee of tho heavy blow he had. received on the 
 top of hk head, but still he was mfnciently in posses- 
 sion of his sensus to take notice of everything. 
 
 He knew, therefore, that, should this prove to be the 
 door through which he had been brought, he should 
 find a passage on tne other side of it, and, at the further 
 end 01 the passage a flight of steps leading up to the 
 little door by the side of the mill, where a man had sat od 
 guard. 
 
 WitL these facts fresh in his mind, Jack had some data 
 to go npon. 
 
 A gfance at this door showed him that the fastening;* 
 upon it were of tho commonest description. 
 
 It gave him not the least trouble to open. 
 _ He passed through quickly, taking his companion with 
 him. 
 
 Then be closed the door. 
 
 Edgworth Bess held up the firebrand as high as she 
 could, so as to diffuse its light as much as possible, and 
 by the aid of this Jack saw he was in a passage which, so 
 far as he could tell, was the very one through which he 
 had formerly passed. 
 
 He said as much to Edgworth Bess, and then added — 
 
 " If this is so, dearest, I must leave you here a moment 
 with the light while I creep forward in the darkness and 
 reconnoitre. Do not be afraid to stay ; I shall soon be 
 back, and shall not run into any danger. For our mutual 
 safety I implore you to do this." 
 
 Thus adjured, Bess could not refuse compliance, although 
 she would have gladly done so. 
 
 Had she known of the sentinel at the top of the steps, 
 she would not have given her consent. 
 
 But, happily, she was ignorant of it. 
 
 Again imploring her not to move upon any aceount, but 
 to keep quite still for a moment close to the door, Jack 
 Sheppard, with the stealthy acd noiseless tread of a Red 
 Indian, crept along the passage in the direction of the 
 flight of steps. 
 
 With straining eyes, Edgworth Bess looked after him 
 until be became invisible. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS SUCCEED IN 
 MAKING THEIR ESCAPE FROM THE RUINED MILL, BUT 
 NOT WITHOUT INCURRING GREAT DANGER. 
 
 Jack Shsppard was fully impressed with the necessity 
 and importance of ascertaining whether there was still a 
 sentinel at the top of the steps. 
 
 If there was not, well and good. His course would 
 then be clear and open before him. But, if there was P 
 What then ? 
 
 Simply this. 
 
 He must be effectually prevented from detaining the 
 escaping prisoners, and also from giving the alarm to his 
 slumbering comrades. 
 
 And it was in anticipation of this latter alternative that 
 Jack had crept forward in the manner we have described, 
 leaving Edgworth Bess half-fainting with terror at the end 
 of the passage farthest from the steps. 
 
 Jack's heart was stern and firm. 
 
 He was determined that no single man, let him be whom 
 he might, should stand between him and freedom. 
 
 He found the bottom of the flight of steps easily enough, 
 and commenced the ascent with even more caution than 
 he had yet displayed. 
 
 Up — up he went — trusting to find the man sleeping 
 at his post, because, if he did so, he should, in all proba- 
 bility, be spared the necessity of taking his life. 
 
 The staircase was a great height, much higher than he 
 thought it was, but then it would seem so to Jack, for he 
 paused at every stair he ascended. 
 
 No sound, however, of any kind came npon his ears. 
 
 But he did not abate his caution in any way. 
 
 At length Jack heard a faint sound. 
 
 He stopped instantly. 
 
 It was as though some one had moved. 
 
 The place was in the profoundest darkness, sou «sf 
 course, he could see nothing. 
 
 He had only his ears to > tepend upo*. 
 
 The faint sound was as though some one near him cat 
 moved.
 
 412 
 
 BMJ£SRIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 The next moment he heard some words muttered in a 
 low and half-sleepy tone. 
 
 The sentinel was, then, at his post. 
 
 Jack drew in Lis breath, and 6et his teeth hard to- 
 gether. 
 
 He now became conscious that the place was gradually 
 getting lighter, and he could not at first account for the 
 phenomenon. 
 
 The illumination was very faint, and would scarcely 
 have been apparent to any but one who had for 6ome 
 time been in total darkness. 
 
 The light came through the various chinks, and slits, 
 and cracks that were in the sides of the ruined mill. 
 
 But, dim as the light was, it enabled Jack to see about 
 him. 
 
 He proceeded now with much greater confidence, and, 
 after mounting a few more steps, he was able to distin- 
 guish the outlines of a man. 
 
 He was seated in a huddled-up sort of fashion, and 
 was, to all appearances, asleep. 
 
 He had probably been partially aroused by some slight 
 noise made by Jack in his ascent, and then dropped off to 
 sleep again. 
 
 Jack was yet in hopes that he should be able to approach 
 him unperceived. 
 
 But in this he was mistaken. 
 
 No sooner had he got close to the top of the staircase 
 than the sentinel started to his feet. 
 
 In another moment he would have given the alarm. 
 
 But Jack, seeing the imminent danger of discovery 
 with which he was threatened, made one bound forward, 
 and clutched the sentinel tightly round the throat with 
 his left hand. 
 
 With his right he flashed the sword before his eyes, 
 and in a suppressed voice he said — 
 
 " Utter a word, or make the least resistance, and I will 
 assuredly run you through with this sword." 
 
 The man heard the words. 
 
 He happened, however, to be possessed of a courageous 
 spirit, for he paid no heed to them whatever, but, without 
 speaking a word, he seized Jaek with both hands, and 
 twisted his leg round his foe's. 
 
 Then, giving himself the necessary impulse, he fell 
 backwards, of course carrying Jack with him, who was 
 completely taken by surprise by the suddenness with 
 which the manoeuvre was performed. 
 
 Jack dropped the sword, for in such close quarters it 
 would be of little service. 
 
 He would do better with his right hand at liberty. 
 
 A desperate struggle now commenced. 
 
 Jack still retained the firm clutch he had taken of the 
 man's throat, who, though he strove to shout for aid, 
 found himself unable to do so. 
 
 Inarticulate murmurs only came from his lips. 
 
 Over and over they rolled upon the floor, each of them 
 instinctively keeping away from the staircase. 
 
 The place upon which the struggle took place was very 
 limited in its area, and more than once the combatants 
 overhung the staircase in an alarming manner. 
 
 Jack Sheppard found that the man to whom he was 
 opposed was much his superior iu size and strength. 
 
 But he would not allow this disadvantage to daunt 
 him. 
 
 The struggle might be a protracted one, but he deter- 
 mined not to yield. 
 
 They now rose partly to their feet, still grappling with 
 each other. 
 
 Jack put forth his utmost strength, determined to make 
 one great and final effort. 
 
 He pressed the man backwards. 
 
 But he did not know how close he was to tho steep 
 staircase. 
 
 As he pressed the man back he overbalanced, and the 
 two, still holding one another in a desperate grip, rolled 
 headlong down, their bodies striking with a sickening 
 crash against the steps and against the sides of the mill. 
 
 The bottom was reached in an incredibly shor* space of 
 time. 
 
 With a tremendous crash, which seemed to shakb che 
 building from its roof to its foundations, the combatants 
 fell upon the floor, and lay there without either of them 
 exhibiting the least signs of life or motion. 
 
 A piercing shriek came from the lips of Edgworth Bess 
 as they fell down. 
 
 Unable to restrain her impatience, she had disobeyed 
 Jack's injunctions not to move from the door, and had, 
 step by - stop, made her way along the passage in the 
 direction of the stairs. 
 
 Upon reaching here, however, she fortunately did not 
 attempt to ascend, but stood listening. 
 
 Faintly came to her cars the sound of the conflict going 
 on above. 
 
 The» the two bodies came tambling down. 
 Iiicti actively she drew back, and the scream came from 
 her tips when she recognised Jack. 
 That scream had both a good and bad effect. 
 It awoke Jack from the state of half-insensibility which 
 his fearful fall had produced, and he sprang quickly to his 
 feet. 
 
 But it also awoke the eohoes of that subterraneous 
 place, and rang with remarkable distinctness in the ears 
 of the slumbering pirates, who, one and all, sprang to 
 their feet with a confused consciousness that something 
 was amiss. 
 
 Upon uttering the scream, and seeing Jack spring to 
 his feet, Edgworth Bess felt all her strength suddenly 
 leave her — a mist floated before her eyes, and she fell 
 backwards-into a swoon. 
 
 Luckily Jack saw what was about to happen, and he 
 sprang forward and caught her just before she reached 
 the ground. 
 
 The man at the bottom of the staircase, although tho 
 injuries he had received were very mueh greater than 
 those sustained by Jack, began to show unequivocal signs 
 of returning animation. 
 
 From the rear, too, came fierce shouts and cries, the 
 clashing of weapons, and the trampling of feet, all telling 
 that tho pirates were thoroughly aroused. 
 
 Jack's position was a perilous one. 
 
 Not for a moment, however, did he lose his presence of 
 mind. 
 
 All would depend upon the next few minutes. 
 
 He had powerful incentives for him to make every exer- 
 tion. 
 
 Raising the inanimate form of Edgworth Bess in his 
 arms, he made a dash towards the staircase, trampling 
 down again to the earth his late antagonist. 
 
 He was just in time, for the door was flung open, and 
 the pirates in a body rushed into the passage. 
 
 They were all well arrned, and most of them carried 
 lights. 
 
 They were, however, in a state of great indecision, for 
 not one of them could take upon themselves to say pre- 
 cisely what was the matter. 
 
 Jack's strength was quite inadequate to the task of 
 carrying Edgworth Bess up the steep flight of stairs. 
 
 He knew it, and every moment he felt as though his 
 legs were giving way beneath him, and that he was falling 
 down. 
 
 But the desperate nature of his situation, and the 
 nature of the peril in which he was placed, nerved him 
 with strength of a fictitious character, which made him 
 equal to the emergency. 
 
 Up he went. 
 
 He staggered from side to side. 
 
 He halted now and then. 
 
 But still he kept upwards — upwards, until the littla 
 landing-place close to the sliding panel was reached. 
 
 Here he halted, and drew his breath painfully. 
 
 He wiped the clustering drops of perspiration from hia 
 face. 
 
 Just then his foot struck against something. 
 
 It rang with a metallic sound. 
 
 Jack knew what it was, and, with a joyful cry upon hia 
 lips, he stooped and picked it up. 
 
 It was the sword which he had dropped a little while 
 before. 
 
 He made one slashing cut with it at the little sliding 
 panel which intervened between him and the daylight. 
 
 The cut was an effective one. 
 
 The panel sunk down in a moment. 
 
 Quick as thought he passed through, taking his insen- 
 sible burden with him. 
 
 But the pirates, now conscious that their two prisoner* 
 were escaping, and knowing what dangerous information 
 they possessed, were crowding up the staircase, anxious 
 to recapture them at all hazards, alive or dead, though 
 they would have preferred the former.
 
 BLCESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 413 
 
 But Jack had the start. 
 
 How he got down the crazy, ricketty ladder on the out- 
 side, Jack never exactly knew. 
 
 But he was conscious he reached the bottom, and at 
 that moment the idea darted into his head that he had the 
 means at his disposal of impeding the pursuit of the 
 pirates, and that for a considerable period. 
 
 What more easy than, with a few vigorous slashes with 
 his sword, to cut away the frail and ruinous ladder ? 
 
 Without stopping a second to reflect upon this matter, 
 he allowed Edgworth Bess to slide out of bis arms on to 
 the ground, and, with the agility of a squirrel, he ran up 
 the steps again. 
 
 When he had ascended about half of them, he saw the 
 heads of the pirates appear at the aperture. 
 
 The foremost of them gained the ladder and commenced 
 the descent. 
 
 To be of any real good, he must be speedy in his 
 actions. 
 
 He swung the sword round his head, aud brought it 
 down on one side of the stairease. 
 
 The woodwork was severed at a single blow. 
 
 One more blow on the other side completed the work of 
 demolition, for the extra weight upon the top assisted him 
 in a great measure. 
 
 There was a sudden crackling sound, and then, with a 
 crash, which mingled with the cries that came from the 
 lips of the pirates, the upper half of the staircase gave 
 way, and those who were upon it were violently precipi- 
 tated to the ground. 
 
 With the quickness of thought, Jack, finding himself so 
 completely successful, descended the steps again. 
 
 In another moment he was by the side of Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 The change of position and the fresh cool air had re- 
 covered her from her swoon. 
 
 She knew Jack instantly, and clung to him tightly. 
 
 As yet recollection had not fully come back to her, and 
 she did not realize her position. 
 
 Jack Sheppard caught her up in his arms. 
 
 Turning round, he saw at the aperture near the top of 
 the old mill, a crowd of anxious, bloodthirsty-looking 
 faces. 
 
 He must have been seen by them, for a volley was 
 fired. 
 
 Happily, without inflicting any injury either upon him 
 or his companion. 
 
 Those pirates who had fallen to the ground along with 
 the ladder, lay just where they had chanced to drop, inca- 
 pable of motion. 
 
 Jack turned and fled. 
 
 To his great satisfaction he found that a dense mist had 
 risen from the river and overspread the land. 
 
 It increased in thickness and opacity every moment. 
 
 A more favourable occurrence than this could not well 
 have happened to him, because he should be able to get 
 out of sight of his foes so much sooner. 
 
 In less time than one could have deemed possible, the 
 mill was entirely out of sight. 
 
 A gush of joy came over his heart when he became con- 
 scious that he had really escaped — that he had succeeded 
 in saving himself and the poor heiress from the frightful 
 peril which menaced her. 
 
 His voice was faint and almost inarticulate, but he 
 managed to keep repeating in the ears of Edgworth 
 Bess — 
 
 " We have escaped — we have escaped ! " 
 
 The poor girl heard him, and clung to his neck without 
 fully comprehending the purport of the words he addressed 
 to her, and yet she knew that, for the present, they were 
 really out of danger. 
 
 Jack staggered .more than once, but still ho kept 
 bravely on. * 
 
 Suddenly, and before he was aware of it, he found turn- 
 self close to the water's edge. 
 
 He would probably have walked into the river, for the 
 mist was so thick that he could not see its surface, only 
 his attention was attracted by a voice saying, in hoarse 
 tones — 
 
 " Boat — boat, your honour ? Want a boat t I'll take 
 you to London-bridge for a shilling. Boat, your honour, 
 boat P Take the boat ? I want to get back to London, 
 but not empty-handed. Only a shilling. Will you go, 
 sir?" 
 
 " Yes," said Jack faintly ; " yes. To London-bridge. 
 You shall be well paid for your trouble." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXI. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS AND JACK SHEPPARD REACH LONDON 
 BRIDGE IN SAFETY. 
 
 just for a few moments we will leave Jack Sheppard and 
 Edgworth Bess, and return to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The reader will understand, then, that it was about a 
 couple of hours after the occurrence of the incidents which 
 we have just described that Jonathan Wild and his band 
 arrived at the old mill. 
 
 By that time the pirates, who deemed it futile to look 
 for the two escaped prisoners in the mist now that they 
 had once lost sight of them, had repaired the damage 
 Jack had done. 
 
 Some of those within the mill descended to the found- 
 ation, and returned with a rope, which they fastened 
 securely to the structure, and used as a means of reaching 
 the ground. 
 
 Being sailors, they were able to slip down the rope 
 without any trouble. 
 
 Two men had fallen with the fragment of the ladder, 
 and the fall had injured them seriously, so much so that 
 they were unable to move hand or foot. 
 
 The rage of the pirates at this defeat knew no bounds. 
 
 The pirate captain, however, was a man who always 
 took care to make the best of a bad job. 
 
 Instead of uselessly raving about his misfortune, he 
 called his men together and told them to repair the stair- 
 case in such a manner that no suspicion should be excited 
 by any one who might chance to notice its altered condi- 
 tion. 
 
 The men s«t about this labour cheerfully enough, 
 because they were well aware that the safety of their 
 haunt depended entirely upon its being kept a secret. 
 
 Hence was it, that upon the arrival of Jonathan Wild 
 and the spy about two hours afterwards, no trace was left 
 of what had taken place. 
 
 The staircase had been restored, and as soon as this was 
 over the captain had recompensed their labour and atoned 
 for the bruises they might have received by broaching a 
 cask , and inviting them to a general carouse. 
 
 To this they immediately consented, because it was 
 congenial to their feelings, and they were in the height of 
 their glee when the door, which they fancied so secure, 
 was burst open, and the much-dreaded thief-taker, Jona- 
 than Wild, rushed into the apartment. 
 
 In a previous chapter we have minutely related what 
 took place after Jonathan's sudden irruption — how the 
 pirates had been vanquished and the greater part of them 
 taken prisoners, and how the pirate captain had expired 
 through the injuries he had received, after communicating 
 to Wild the important and unexpected intelligence that 
 the two prisoners had escaped. 
 
 How and when the captain did not live long enough to 
 inform him, and we have seen how Jonathan, with that 
 energy which formed so prominent a trait in his disposi- 
 tion, had set about searching the foundations of the mill. 
 
 That the search could have but one result, and that an 
 unsuccessful one, so far as the thief-taker's interests were 
 concerned, the reader must already be aware ; for which 
 reason it would be tedious and unnecessary to give a 
 lengthened account of Wild's proceedings, since the ulti- 
 mate result of them must be known. 
 
 Let it suffice to say that, aftor a long and minute search, 
 ho was obliged to admit his failure, and come to the con- 
 clusion that his prey had again escaped him, though he 
 was unwilling in the extreme to do so. 
 
 Such being the case, ho called his men together and 
 mounted his own steed. 
 
 Then at the head of his band and his prisoners, he 
 moodily made his way back to London. 
 
 He spoke but few words for he was busy with his, 
 thoughts. 
 
 In a most unexpected manner, almost the whole of hi 
 stolen treasure had come back to him. 
 
 Then there was the piratical crew he had prisoners. 
 
 He quickly made up his mind what to do with them. 
 
 He would lodge them iu prison and appear against 
 them, when he would be able to give 6uch an exagge- 
 rated and glowing description of the manner in which 
 they had been captured, that everybody who heard it
 
 414 
 
 BIiUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 would be deluded into the idea that he was the most won- 
 derful police-officer that ever existed. 
 
 His plans were settled with them so far, and he justly 
 calculated by doing this that he should blind the eyea of 
 the authorities to the various little irregularities in his 
 Conduct which might have come under their notice. 
 
 And this it is that chiefly accounts for ths length of 
 time Jonathan was permitted to carry on his deprecatory 
 operations. 
 
 Then the government was at that time notoriously the 
 most corrupt that ever had or has existed — which the 
 reader must recollect is saying a great deal — and these 
 unworthy administrators felt the want of an unscrupulous 
 agent like Jonathan Wild. 
 
 They made him their tool in many a dark and nefarious 
 transaction, until at length they were placed in his power 
 and afraid to take any very energetic proceedings against 
 him, for fear that by so doing he should in revenge disclose 
 certain particulars which would inevitably bring ruin 
 upon them. 
 
 Fortunately, such a state of things could not now pos- 
 sibly exist, though the country was threatened with some- 
 thing almost as bad a short time since. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was an excellent tactician, however, but 
 then he was one who never troubled much about what he 
 did. 
 
 He managed to keep in with the government, with the 
 opposition, and with the people at large, though of course 
 there were a great many acquainted with his enormities, 
 but they could not make themselves heard against the re- 
 redoubtable thief-taker. 
 
 But his monstrous villainies had now reached their 
 culminating point, as succeeding events will quickly 
 show. 
 
 While upon the subject of the Thames pirates, we may 
 as well refer to their ultimate fate, which will save all 
 further trouble. 
 
 In due time they were brought up for trial, and were 
 found guilty upon the testimony of Jonathan Wild, who, 
 " from information he had received," had attacked them 
 in their secret haunt, and, after a desperate conflict, had 
 succeeded in vanquishing them, and taking them into 
 custody. 
 
 They were found guilty, of course, and a few days after- 
 wards executed at Tyburn, very much to the advantage 
 and popularity of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 We must now request the reader to return with us 
 while we describe the remainder of the proceedings of 
 Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess upon that eventful 
 evening. 
 
 The sound of the man's voice asking him whether he 
 wanted a boat, came most welcomely upon the ears of 
 Jack Sheppard, who was scarcely cognizant of anything 
 save the fact that he was staggering somewhere with his 
 burden. 
 
 The voice, however, and the words it uttered, com- 
 pletely restored him to consciousness, and in faint tones 
 he managed to gasp out a request that he should be taken 
 to London-bridge, coupled with the assurance that the 
 waterman should be well paid for his trouble. 
 
 This was enough. 
 
 The boatman, who had come down there from London- 
 bridge with a fare, was anxious to return, but, at the same 
 time, he did not wish to go empty-handed. 
 
 He would have been glad to take Jack for a very small 
 sum, but when he heard him offer to pay a liberal fare, 
 he was most alacrious. 
 
 He jumped out of the boat, and came towards Jack. 
 
 " I am hurt," gasped Jack, in a still faiuter voice, for 
 he felt that_ all his strength was leaving him. " I am 
 hurt, and this young girl has fainted, take her with you." 
 
 " No," replied Edgworth Bess, struggling to her feet. 
 w I have recovered now. Where are we now, Jack ? " 
 
 " Never mind, dearest. Be contenWitb this amount of 
 knowledge — yow are in safety." 
 
 " Thank heaven." 
 
 The boatman assisted the poor girl into the boat, and 
 Jack followed as well as he could. 
 
 He had the greatest difficulty in keeping himself from 
 falling into a swoon. 
 
 " Push off," he said to the boatman; "and the sooner 
 you reach your destination the better." 
 
 " All right, sir ; but I shall have to be careful. Do 
 you Bee what a thick fog there is upon the river P It 
 
 would be no joke for us to run foul of any craft larger than 
 ourselves." 
 
 Jack Sheppard looked around him as the boatman 
 spoke, and probabty, for the first time, noticed that so 
 dense a vapour hung upon the water that they could not 
 see a boat's length before them. 
 
 To navigate the river under such circumstances would 
 require the exercise of very great skill and caution, for 
 that part of the Thames was always thronged with various 
 vessels riding at anchor, and he would have to thread his 
 way through their intricacies. 
 
 "By all means be careful," said Jack, as he saw the 
 danger with which they were threatened. " Be careful 
 by all means. I am afraid you will have much ado to 
 avoid a collision." 
 
 " Leave that to me, sit. If you will be content to sit 
 apart a little, and allow me to have my own way, I shall 
 be all right." 
 
 Jack had no objection to this course, so he at once 
 turned his attention to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He found she was sobbing and crying bitterly. 
 
 That, however, was but the reaction produced by the 
 various and violent excitements she had undergone. 
 
 Jack spoke to her, and she soon grew calmer. 
 
 " We have escaped from the pirates, and are beyond 
 all reach of their pursuit. We are now in a boat upon 
 the Thames, and, ere long, I trust we shall reach London- 
 bridge." 
 
 " Oh ! Jack, how comforting to hear those words. Are 
 you sure you are not deceiving me ? " 
 
 " Deceiving you ? " 
 
 " I mean, I hope you are not trying to make out that 
 things are better than they really are." 
 
 " No, indeed I am not." 
 
 " Then I rejoice. But, Jack, your voice is faint, and 
 your breathing laboured. You are hurt. I am sure you 
 are hurt, Jack. Tell me at once." 
 
 " I am shaken a little." 
 
 " Oh ! I recollect now ; I had forgotten it. There was 
 that fearful fall down the steep flight of steps. Is it pos- 
 sible you live ? I made sure it had killed you." 
 
 " Yes, I live, dearest. I am bruised and sadly knocked 
 about, bat a little rest will soon put that all right." 
 
 " I trust so, but I fear your injuries are greater than 
 you would like to confess them to be." 
 
 " No — no ; do not think that, dearest. But I am not 
 one to sink under a hurt, or to make more of it than I 
 ought." 
 
 " Nor enough. But, Jack, where are we now ? " 
 
 " Somewhere on the Thames. I have hired this man 
 to take us to London-bridge." 
 
 " But do you see how thick the fog is ? I cannot see a 
 couple of yards around us. How is the waterman to find 
 his way ? " 
 
 " That is his business. I have little doubt he will be 
 able to steer clear of all obstacles." 
 
 " I hope so ; but, Jack." 
 
 " What, dear one ? " 
 
 " You said we were going to London-bridge." 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " What shall we do there ? " 
 
 " I have scarcely thought yet. We must consider." 
 
 " What made you think of London-bridge at all ? " 
 
 " I did not think of it." 
 
 "Not think of it?" 
 
 " No. After we got out of the mill we were pursued, 
 and I caught you up in my arms and ran as fast as I was 
 able. The fog was dense, as you see it now. Moreover, I 
 felt myself dizzy and blinded, and I was scarcely conscious 
 of where I was going. Suddenly I was hailed by this 
 waterman. His voice recalled me to myself. I then 
 found I had ran to the river's brink He called to me, 
 and asked me whether I wanted to go to London-bridge. 
 Can you imagine how readily I seized upon this chance of 
 escape ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, Jack, I understand all now quite well. 
 Alaa ! what an evil fate is ours. We seem doomed to 
 nothing but trouble and misfortune. Surely after all this 
 strife and danger there will come a long period of 
 repose." 
 
 " I hope so, dearest — indeed I hope so, for I feel almost 
 sick at heart at these perpetual struggles against adverse 
 destiny. Were it not for you I should have succumbed 
 long ago."
 
 BLTJESKIN: A B.OMANCS. 
 
 ,15 
 
 " Do not talk of failure, Jack. Consider what we had 
 better do upon our arrival at London-bridge." . 
 
 " I should like to find Blueskin." 
 
 "But where is he?" 
 
 " I have no idea. I have not seen him since he Janded 
 at Westminster." 
 
 " I fear he must have fallen into the hands of the villain 
 Wild." 
 
 " That is what I dread." 
 
 "And I, too." 
 
 " But we must not give up. We must try to find him. 
 On many an occasion he has proved himself a match for 
 Jonathan Wild, and I am not altogether without a hope 
 that he has succeeded in escaping from him." 
 
 " How shall you ascertain whether he is Wild's pri- 
 soner ? " 
 
 " That is the difficulty, but if we think the matter over, 
 doubtless some idea will supgest itself to us." 
 
 " The treasure has gone," said Edgworth Bess, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " I know it. Fain would I have carried that away with 
 me, but, alas ! it was impossible. We were all but re- 
 captured as it was." 
 
 _ " I must have been insensible nearly the whole of the 
 time, for my remembrance of what took place is exceed- 
 ingly confused." 
 
 " You were insensible for a long time. Perhaps it was 
 all for the best." 
 
 " We will try to think so. But, you know I said we 
 have lost the treasure ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Do you know the effect of that loss ? We are penni^ 
 less." 
 
 "We are, for those rascally pirates took everything 
 valuable we had about us." 
 
 " They did. I have a purse in my bosom with a little 
 money in it, but that is all." 
 
 " It is better than nothing, at any rate. We shall be 
 able to pay this man his fare." 
 
 " But what are we to do ? How are we to escape Wild 
 without money ? " 
 
 " We must do the best we can. If we can find Blue- 
 ekin, I have no doubt all will be well." 
 
 At this moment the waterman cried out — 
 
 " London-bridge, your honour. London-bridge. Here 
 we are safe now, your honour." 
 
 The keel of the boat grated on the shore at the bottom 
 of the steps, for it was low tide. 
 
 Jack gave the man a liberal fare, and then assisted his 
 companion to land. 
 
 Hand in hand they ascended the steps, and directly 
 afterwards stood upon old London-bridge, uncertain which 
 way to turn. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXII. 
 
 BLUESKIN RATHER UNEXPECTEDLY MEETS WITH JACK 
 SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 Turn wo now to the proceedings of Blueskin, who we 
 left in rather a peculiar situation. 
 
 Hi? was seated in tho post-chaise with the young girl 
 who ho had saved from a fate that was ten times worse 
 than death itself, and he had just finished listening to the 
 st >ry of her wrongs when the vehicle cam6 to a sudden 
 halt. 
 
 What could be the cause of this ho was at a loss to 
 think, but, dreading the occurrence of some fresh misfor- 
 tune, he let down the window of tho post-chaise and pro- 
 jected his head through it. 
 
 He was unable to see anything in the sha^e of an ob- 
 struction, as he had quite expected. 
 
 " Hullo, coachman ! " he cried. " What is tho meaning 
 of this ? " 
 
 But no one replied, and, upon looking round him Biuo- 
 ekin found himself in a very strange place indeed. 
 
 The reader will doubtless recollect that when Blueskin 
 entered the post-chaise along with tho young girl, he had 
 tied his horse to tho back part of tho vehicle, and directed 
 the coachman to drive towards London, Raying that he 
 would presently givo him tho address to which he was to 
 g°. 
 
 He had compelled tho coachman by threats to mount 
 the box and to drive on. 
 
 Then he became so deeply interested in tho narrative 
 
 which the young girl related to him, that he quite forgot 
 to look in what direction they were going, or whether 
 they passed any familiar objects upon the road. 
 
 That was very near becoming a fatal oversight. 
 
 The driver, who was deep in the confidence of his 
 rascally employer, and who was well aware of all the 
 particulars of the transaction, made up his mind before 
 going very far to try whether he could not drive to his 
 original destination, and reach it before the inmates were 
 aware of what he was about. 
 
 He put his intention into practice, and instead of 
 going where Blueskin had ordered him, drove to the house 
 where the squire was waiting for his panderer and his 
 victim. 
 
 It was a house on the outskirts of London, surrounded 
 by grounds of considerable extent. 
 
 He drove through the lodge gates unquestioned, 
 because the arrival of the post-chaise was expected. 
 
 _ The gates were closed again and fastened iup for the 
 night. 
 
 Tho carriage-drive up to the house was as wide, or 
 nearly so, as an ordinary road, and was bordered on both 
 sides by tall trees. 
 
 Along this, then, the carriage rolled, Blueskin being all 
 the time unconsoious of where he was going. 
 
 Then, as we have related, the chaise stopped. 
 
 The moment it came to a standstill the coachman 
 descended from the box with perhaps more agility than 
 he ever had in his life before, and running round to the 
 back of the vehicle, untied Blueskin's horse, and sent him 
 off at a gallop over a spacious lawn. 
 
 His hoofs made no sound upon the soft turf, so Blue- 
 skin was quite unconscious of it. 
 
 The coachman, considering he had made things as 
 secure as lay in his power, ran towards the house, the 
 front door of which was thrown open before he could reach 
 it, thus indicating with tolerable plainness that the chaise 
 had been heard to stop. 
 
 This wa3 what Blueskin saw when he put his head out 
 of the chaise window. 
 
 Before him a house, the outlines of which could be only 
 imperfectly distinguished, and from the open door of 
 which there came a bright light. 
 
 He saw, too, several persons standing on the thres- 
 hold. 
 
 Around him he could see the spacious grounds belong- 
 ing to the residence in front. 
 
 He comprehended all in a moment. 
 
 He was angry with himself for having been so 
 incautious. 
 
 It was time, however, for prompt action if he wished to 
 yet save the young girl who had put faith in his powers 
 to aid her, and if he wished to escape with his own life, 
 for he rightly enough judged that those who would 
 abduct a young and innocent girl, would not stop short at 
 any means, however desperate, of achieving their ends. 
 
 Without staying any longer than it took him to give a 
 hasty glance around and comprehend his position, Blue- 
 skin turned the handle of the chaise door and sprang out 
 on to the ground. 
 
 Ho called to the young girl to follow him, and he 
 assisted her to alight. 
 
 Those persons who had appeared at the front door now 
 uttered loud cries, and came running with hostile mani- 
 festations towards the chaise. 
 
 Blueskin, recollecting his horse, ran to tho back where 
 he had fastened it. 
 
 His design was to mount, taking the girl on tho saddle 
 with him, and effecting an immediate retreat, for single- 
 handed he could have had no chanco against the numbers 
 opposed to him. 
 
 To his dismay ho discovered that tho horse was gone. 
 
 How was ho to escape ? 
 
 There was no time to answer the question, for about 
 half-a-dozen men were close to him. 
 
 The young girl, although she did not thoi'oughly com- 
 prehend her danger, yet understood enough of it to be 
 aware that she had much to dread, so sho clung with 
 terrified tightness to Blueskin's arm. 
 
 " Fly— fly ! " she said. " Oh ! fly." 
 
 "A good thought," said Blueskin. " We will escape 
 them yet. Be of good cheer, and all will be well. Keep 
 hold of my hand, and run with all the speed you are capa- 
 ble of."
 
 f 
 
 416 
 
 BUJESKIK : A ROMANCE. 
 
 flu* young girl did not noed telling twice to do this, and 
 she bounded forward at a pace tbat Blueskin found ratber 
 dirfi.ult to keep up with. 
 
 He directed bis course to tbe nearest clurn] of trees, 
 because, not only would their intricacies bide bim to a 
 considerable extent from the view of his pursuers, but he 
 should have a much better chance of getting clear. 
 
 Tbo distance to the trees was hut short, and Blueskin 
 and bis young companion were soon among them. 
 
 Witb the speed of hunted hares they made their way 
 among them, and not without sustaining many injuries of 
 a trifling character. 
 
 The young girl required no urging forward. Terror 
 lent her speed. 
 
 Tbe cries of those iu pursuit reached their ears with a 
 great deal too much plainness to be at all agreeable. 
 
 " Close tbe gates," they heard them cry. " Close tho 
 gates, aud then they cannot escape." 
 
 This sounded very discouraging, but Blueskin would 
 not let it daunt him, nor did he feel inclined to take it for 
 granted that because the gates were shut he should bo 
 unable to escape. 
 
 Suddenly Blueskin came to the other side of the trees, 
 and then he saw before him what looked like a tastefully 
 laid out garden, which was bounded by a high brick wall. 
 
 Towards this he unhesitatingly directed his course. 
 
 Upon a near approach, however, he saw with dismay 
 that tbe wall was of such a height as to justify bis pur- 
 suers in saying tbat if tbe gates were shut they could aot 
 escape. 
 
 How he was to get over that wall with his companion 
 he bad not the remotest idea. 
 
 Still be ran on. 
 
 Looking back, he saw that none of his pursuers were 
 in sight. 
 
 Probably they were not aware the fugitives had emerged 
 from the clump of trees. 
 
 A little more than a moment brought Blueskin and his 
 companion to it. 
 
 He glanced up at it. 
 
 It was ten feet high at the very least. 
 
 He looked to the right and left along it, hut nowhere 
 did it appear to he an inch lov er. 
 
 Iu the hope that they should find some such place, 
 where tbe difficulty of surmounting the wall would not be 
 eo gi - eat, he caught hold of the breathless girl by the 
 hand, and ran with her along the wall, keeping close in 
 tbe shadow of it, and trampling beds of rare and beautiful 
 flowers remorselessly beneath their feet. 
 
 Suddenly in her progress the young girl caught her 
 foot against something, stumbled, and almost fell, but 
 fortunately Blueskin was just in time to save her. 
 
 She was hurt, and burst into tears. 
 
 But those tears soon changed from tears of pain to tears 
 of joy, for Blueskin, on looking down on the ground to 
 see what it was she had stumbled ever, found it was a 
 ladder. 
 
 Here, then, and by such an extraordinary chance, the 
 means of making their escape was presented to them . 
 
 Quick as thought, Blueskin raised the ladder against 
 the wall. 
 
 " Up— up ! " he cried to the weeping girl. " Ascend, I 
 will follow you. Quick— quick ! and we shall be free. It 
 is our only chance." 
 
 The young girl scarcely required urging. 
 
 She mounted the ladder, and Blueskin ascended it after 
 her, for the double purpose of keeping it steady and 
 saving her from a fall. 
 
 But by this time the men in pursuit appeared in the 
 garden. 
 
 They were provided with lanterns, and carried weapons 
 of various descriptions in their hands. 
 
 Without hurry the girl was able to reach the top of the 
 wall, aud here she had to wait a moment while Blueskin 
 drew the ladder up after them, not only to prevent their 
 foes making use of it, hut in order to descend the opposite 
 side of the wall. 
 
 The ladder was a light short one, such as might be used 
 by a gardener, and the probability was it had been left 
 where Blueskin luckily found it by the man who had 
 charge of attending to the plants. 
 
 Oat friend drew the ladder up easily enough, and 
 lowered it on the other side of the wall. 
 
 It was long enough to reach to the top. 
 
 He then bade the young girl descend. 
 
 This was rather difficult, and by the time she had fairly 
 got her foot upon tho first round, the men who were iu 
 chase were close to the wall. 
 
 Blueskin pressed her to hasten her descent, so that he 
 might follow her. 
 
 The men, however, cried — 
 
 " Surrender — surrender ! Co:ue down ! Come down 
 at once, or John, the gamekeeper, will fire his double- 
 barrelled gun, and blow you to bits ! Come down at once." 
 
 Of course, Blueskin paid not the Slightest attention to 
 this speech, but endeavoured to get out of the range of 
 the gun, for fear John, the gamekeeper, should really 
 favour him with the contents of its two barrels. 
 
 Seeing what he was about, those below cried — 
 
 "Fire! fire! John, make haste, or they will escape. 
 Don't be afraid ; tbe master will see you all right." 
 
 John, the gamekeeper, raised the gun to his shoulder 
 and pulled both the triggers at once. 
 
 The report was tremendous, and the recoil of tbe 
 weapon threw him backwards to tbe ground. 
 
 Blueskin saw him raise the gun, aud felt that he had 
 but two alternatives. 
 
 Either to stay where he was and risk the effect of the 
 shot, or drop off the wall iuto the road and chance receiv- 
 ing a few bruises. 
 
 lie chose the latter alternative, so, letting go his grasp, 
 he fell to the ground. 
 
 He was only just iu time. 
 
 Indeed, he could scarcely make out whether he was hit 
 or not. 
 
 So sudden, too, was his fall that the men set up a shout 
 aud declared he was killed. 
 
 But such indeed was very far from being the case. 
 
 Blueskin was worth a good many dead ones yet. 
 
 He rose to his feet, and then found tbat the injuries he 
 had received were comparatively trifling when all things 
 were taken iuto consideration. 
 
 The young girl uttered a loud scream and let go her 
 hold of the ladder, for she fell iuto the same mistake as 
 the men — namely, that Blueskin bad been killed, or at all 
 events fatally injured. 
 
 Without him to assist her she felt that she was lost 
 indeed. 
 
 What a jovful aud pleasant surprise it must have been 
 to her, therefore, when she beard him say — 
 
 " Fear nothing j I am unhurt. All is well bo far. 
 Rise — follow me. If we are quick in our movements we 
 may yet escape our pursuers.' 
 
 " You are sure you are not wouaded ? " 
 
 " Quite sure. I had to let go my hold of the top of the 
 wall iu order to save myself, aud all the barm I have 
 received is that which I have sustained by falling on to 
 the ground, and I call that nothing. Come, or you will 
 be too late." 
 
 Gladly did the young girl comply with his request when 
 she found her preserver was not injured, and once more i 1 
 hand in hand they ran along with the greatest speed they / 
 were able to make. 
 
 They found themselves in the high-road, and Blueskia, 
 without hesitating a moment as to which course thiiy 
 ought to take, turned towards London, from which he 
 was not very distant. 
 
 They both ran on until failing breath and failing limbs 
 compelled them to moderate their pace. 
 
 Finally they subsided into a walk. 
 
 Blueskin looked long and carefully behind him, and 
 listened intently, but by neither of these means could he 
 learn anything of the movements of their foes, so he, with 
 some reason, came to the conclusion that they had dis- 
 tanced them. 
 
 But, if so, there was no time for delay. They might 
 take horse and follow them, in which case they would in- 
 evitably be overtaken. 
 
 So Blueskin urged his companion forward. 
 
 The poor girl was almost exhausted, but she kept up 
 bravely. 
 
 At length the City-road waa gained, without any 
 hindrance from their pursuers. 
 
 As soon as she reached this thoroughfare, the young 
 girl glanced around her, and then immediately pointed 
 out the street to which she wished to be taken. 
 
 Blueskiu accompanied her, and knocked at the door ol 
 a house of a rather squalid exterior.
 
 iSLUESKiiJ : a Romance 
 
 417 
 
 "the capture of bueskin by Jonathan wild and his myrmidons.] 
 
 The inmates were all in bed, but, at length, be bad the 
 •i itisfaction of seeing the door opened, and the girl received 
 1 >y her relatives with every man i testation of pleasure. 
 
 To their piessiug request to stay Blueskiu replied that 
 importaut business required his immediate attention, and 
 that he had already sacrificed more time than he could 
 well spare. 
 
 They urged him no more. 
 
 Hastily bidding them farewell, and with th« pleasant 
 f-eling about his heart which the knowledge of having 
 done good invariably produces, Blueskin dismissed the 
 incident almost entirely from his mind, and directed the 
 whole of his thoughts to a consideration of his own posi- 
 tion. 
 
 He had failed to do what he had determined upon, 
 namely, to follow Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Now where was he to look for his two companions in 
 misfortune, Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess ?" 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXI1I. 
 
 JONATHAN AYILD MISSES HIS TKEY BY A HAIR'S 
 BKKADTH. 
 
 Perhaps at that very moment, he thought, and the reflec- 
 tion was maddening in the extreme, they might be 
 attacked by Wild, and unable to defend themselves any 
 longer against him, when, if he was there, the aspect of 
 affairs would be completely altered. 
 
 The interposition of his strong arm might save them 
 from death or capture. 
 
 But what trace or clue had he to their whereaboutu i 
 What hope could he have of meeting with them ? 
 
 None whatever. 
 
 In a despairing sort of way he turned round and round 
 upon his heels, uncertain which way to take. 
 
 To him all roads appeared to be alike. 
 
 Little did Blueskin imagine the real facts of the case, 
 and, though he pictured his two companions In trouble, 
 how far did the imagination fall short of the reality. 
 
 No. 53.
 
 41S 
 
 fcXUESKtN: A ROMANCE 
 
 At length Blueskin, who felt that no good could be done 
 by remaining in such a etate of indecision on that spot, 
 turned towards London. 
 
 At that lone and silent hour of the night all the streets 
 were deserted. It was only now and then, and at long 
 intervals that he met a pedestrian, hurrying along as 
 though his life depended upon his speed. 
 
 The state of Blueskin' s mind is quite indescribaMe. 
 Knowing as we do that ho has the interests both of Jack 
 Sheppard and Edgworth Bess at heart, we can only 
 faintly conceive his mental confusion and dismay. 
 
 From the words which he had heard Jonathan Wild 
 utter when that worthy set out upon his expedition, he 
 came to the conclusion that Jack and Bess were not yet 
 in his power; and Btill those words might not have had 
 reference to them at all, but to same other persons whose 
 capture the thief-taker desired. 
 
 Perplexed, bewildered, completely lost in a maze of 
 thought, Blueskin continued on his way. 
 
 He had paid little or no attention to the route he had 
 taken. He was aware that he had walked a long way, 
 and that he was still in London, but that was all. 
 
 Suddenly he looked around him, in order to ascertain 
 his precise position. 
 
 Somewhat to his surprise, he found himself on old 
 London-bridge. 
 
 Seeing this, he thought in a moment that it was 
 higher up the Thames that he had lost his companions, 
 and with a slower step he walked across the bridge to one 
 of the embrasures in the parapet, from which a view of 
 the riyer can be obtained. 
 
 As in the present structure, there were seats in these 
 embrasures where those who were tired could sit down. 
 
 When he entered the one nearest to him, Blueslun 
 noticed that two persons were seated in it who shrunk 
 back into the shadow as soon as he made his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 It was very dark, and there were few objects which 
 could be distinctly seen. 
 
 He mounted on to the seat, and, standing upon it, leant 
 his arms upon the stonework and looked over the water. 
 
 It was while thus occupied — straining his eyes vainly 
 over the dark surface of the water, that he was startled by 
 hearing one of the two persons speak he had noticed occu- 
 pying the embrasure before he entered it. 
 
 It was not, however, the words which produced tho 
 effect upon him, for they were uttered in too low a voice 
 for their import to reach him. 
 
 It was the tones of the voice. 
 
 He recognised them. 
 
 By no movement, however, or other sign, did he betray 
 his recognition. 
 
 He kept profoundly still, bonding all his faculties into 
 the one of hearing. 
 
 Faintly he heard the two persons speaking, and though 
 ho could only just catch a word or two here and there, he 
 was quite sure ho knew the voices of both the persons who 
 were conversing. 
 
 And then, to set all doubts at rest, he heard his own 
 name pronounced. 
 
 The reader understands all. 
 
 When we last left Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess, 
 after their rather perilous journey in the little wherry, 
 they ascended the slippery stone steps, and at length 
 stood upon London-bridge. 
 
 Which way they where to turn they knew not. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, too, felt tired and weary. 
 
 That they must come to an understanding of some kind 
 was quite evident, and it was Jack who proposed that they 
 should both sit down ii \he first embrasure they camo to 
 and recover themselvef /somewhat from tho exertion tb*v 
 had undergone, and at the same time arrange 6onw defi- 
 nite plan of action. 
 
 This they did. 
 
 It was while they were ongaged in this manner that 
 they were startled by the entrance of a man, who, hew- 
 ever, appeared to take no notice of them, but got upon 
 the seat as far away from them as he could. 
 
 That man was Blueskin. 
 
 How strange a chance it was that he should have found 
 them in this manner. 
 
 He was sure it was their voices, and yet it seemed so 
 impossible that be could not do otherwise than doubt. 
 
 So be remained for some moment* after ki> reeog;iised 
 
 them liko one who fears to move lest an illusion should bo 
 dispelled. 
 
 But he soon found this to be a state of things that could 
 nol«possibly continue. 
 
 It was no illusion. 
 
 It was reality. 
 
 His two lost companions, who he had almost despaired 
 of finding, were there within reach of his arm. 
 
 And at liberty. 
 
 By 6ome means it wa3 clear they had escaped Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 
 Little did Jack and Edgworth Bess think while they 
 were talking about their absent comrade that he was so 
 close to them. 
 
 The discovery would be a startling one. 
 
 Blueskin knew this, and he did not wish to startle them 
 any more than he could help, for fear that in their as- 
 tonishment they should give vent to an ejaculation which 
 might reach unfriendly ears, and be the means of bringing 
 danger upon them all. 
 
 Without moving from the position he occupied, he said, 
 in a low voice, not much above a whisper— 
 
 " Jack." 
 
 The well-remembered tones struck home to Jack Shep- 
 pard's memory the instant he heard them, although spoken 
 so quietly. 
 
 He started to his feet, to the consternation of Edgworth 
 Bess, and asked — 
 
 " What— who is that ? " 
 
 " Hush, Jack," continued Blueskin, still immovable, 
 and speaking in the same faint tone of voice. " Hush, 
 Jack, for fear you should give the alarm. I am here. 
 Hush, all is well. We have met, though it is mc \e than 
 I hoped for." 
 
 Jack Sheppard clasped his hands over his eyes. 
 
 He fancied he must be dreaming. 
 
 Blueskin got down off the seat, and came towards him, 
 still crying — 
 
 " Hush— hush." 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess who first comprehended the 
 affair. 
 
 With a faint cry of joy, for she had heard Blueskin'a 
 caution to be silent, she sprang forward, and grasped him 
 tightly by the arm. 
 
 At the same time she said — 
 
 '' Oh ! joy— joy ! Jack, here is Blueskin ! nc has found 
 us." 
 
 And then Jack removed his hands from his face, and, 
 finding the occurrences of the past few moments to be no 
 dream, as he feared they were, he, with the utmost glad- 
 ness, seized Blueskin's hand, and pressed it warmly 
 between his own. 
 
 Over the scene which followed their singular reunion 
 we need not linger. We are already acquainted with all 
 the singular adventures which befel them during their 
 separation, and therefore wo have no need, as they have, 
 to relate what happened in the past. 
 
 The time was occupied in mutual explanations. 
 
 The loss of the treasure very much troubled Blueskin, 
 and he almost felt inclined to encounter the pirates single- 
 handed in their secret haunt, and endeavour to wrest it 
 from them, for, of course, neither he nor Jack knew a 
 word about Wild's attack. 
 
 Blueskin had placed great reliance and importance upon 
 the possession of that treasure, and now that it was gone 
 he felt thrown aback, and he knew not what to do. 
 
 He knew, too, the risk and danger they had passed 
 through to obtain it, and now it was all swept away from 
 them, and none at all left. 
 
 &.11 the money the three possessed if put together made 
 but an insignificant and trifling sum. 
 
 With so little as that in their pockets, how were they 
 to do battle -with so powerful an adversary as Jonathan 
 Wild, who had unlimited means at his disposal ? 
 
 They had all along found it a hard struggle, but now 
 the difficulties were much increased. 
 
 Friendless, homeless, almost penniless, hunted by the 
 law, with a price set upon their heads, liable to instant 
 apprehension, what were they to do ? 
 
 Tho enemies they had were so unscrupulous. 
 
 Unquestionably the plan which Blueskin had devised 
 of obtaining a sum of money and then going abroad until 
 Edgworth Bess came of ago was a good one, but, alas 1 
 the fates willed that it should never be carried out.
 
 Btur.sicnr: a romance. 
 
 4W 
 
 But we will not anticipate the progress of events. 
 
 That plan must for the present, however, be abandoned, 
 because one of the essential priaciples of it was now 
 deficient. 
 
 What were they to do ? 
 
 The question was an all-important one, and they found 
 it was no easy task to frame an answer to it. 
 
 They must, too, shortly move from their present place 
 of shelter — it was a wonder they were allowed *o remain 
 unmolested for so long — for in a little while it would be 
 daylight. 
 
 Already the clouds in the eastern quarter of the sky 
 had assumed a dull gray tint, announcing that the morn- 
 ing was now close at hand. 
 
 It was Blueskin who called the attention of Jack and 
 Edgworth Bess to this circumstance. 
 
 " We must get away from here," he said, " and that as 
 quickly as possible. I am convinced that Jonathan Wild 
 has got a spy in almost every street in London, and that 
 it is impossible for us to move without being seen." 
 
 " What do you propose, then ? " 
 
 "To get out into the country. There, where the 
 dwellings are far apart, and people seldom met with, I 
 should think we should be safest from Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " So we shall," replied Jack. " That is a good thought, 
 Blueskin, and we will act upon it at once. In some out- 
 of-the-way country place we shall be as safe from Jona- 
 than Wild as if we went abroad." 
 
 " I don't know that exactly. You see, we want the 
 means of living ; but I will not put the worst face on 
 things. Come! I should recommend vou to start at once." 
 
 " We will." 
 
 " Are you ready ? " 
 
 ■ Yes." 
 
 " Come on then. _ No, stay \ Hark ! What is that ? " 
 
 The loud trampling of many horses' feet came to the 
 ears of the three fugitives as Blueskin uttered these dis- 
 jointed ejaculations. 
 
 " Back — back," he said. " Who these horsemen can 
 be, I know not. They are coming this way. Let us 
 shrink back into the shadow until they are past, and then 
 we shall be on the safe side." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin pushed his two companions 
 further back into the embrasure, while the sounds of the 
 horses' feet beating on the hard roadway became more 
 and more audible. 
 
 Anxiously and curiously the three fugitive* peered 
 forth from their dark hiding-place. 
 
 Old London- bridge was lighted with oil lamps, or 
 rather it was supposed to be lighted, for the amount of 
 illumination was so feebk that each lamp looked like a 
 star, and nothing more. 
 
 Then the buildings, which at that time covered the 
 bridge, cast a deep black shadow. 
 
 They did not anticipate, therefore, having an oppor- 
 tunity of seeing, with any degree of distinctness, what 
 horsemen went by. 
 
 Still they looked. 
 
 Tramp ! tramp ! came the hoof-beats, each one seem- 
 ing to cause the structure to vibrate beneath their feet. 
 
 At length the foremost horseman in the throng came in 
 sight. 
 
 They were all riding in a dense throng. 
 
 The eyes of all three of the fugitives were riveted upon 
 this first horseman in the troop. 
 
 Despite the dark shadows of the houses. 
 
 Despite the insufficiency of light emitted by the oil 
 lamps. 
 
 Despite the speed with which he swept by them, he 
 was immediately recognised by all three, though neither 
 moved nor spoke, nor in any other way betrayed their 
 knowledge. 
 
 Too often had they seen that form, and under so many 
 varying circumstances for them to make any mistake. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 What a strange chance it was, that at that particular 
 hour of this most eventful night, that the chief actors in 
 this terrible drama should ail be within so short a dis- 
 tance of each other — that indeed they should all stand 
 upon London-bridge at the same moment ! 
 
 And yet such was the case. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was returning from the mill. 
 
 He was followed by Ids sou, his janizaries, and those 
 pirates he had taken prisoners. 
 
 He was in a very gloomy state of mind indeed, and 
 Wild, junior, finding there was no prospect of getting him 
 into conversation, fell back, and let him go on by him- 
 self. 
 
 Not for one moment did the idea cross the mind of the 
 great thief -taker that those three persons who had given 
 him so much trouble were so near to him. Little did he 
 think that he should pass them on the road. 
 
 Little did he think that their position was such that 
 escape would have been an impossibility. 
 
 Had he been aware of their hiding-place, his men could 
 have surrounded it, and then those within must either 
 have surrendered or adopted tho only other alternative 
 left open to them, that of jumping into the Thames. 
 
 But Jonathan remained in ignorance, and rode by un- 
 suspectingly. 
 
 Gloomy — reserved — muttering occasional curses — and 
 planning the execution of fresh villainies — the notorious 
 thief-taker took his way in a direct line to his own house 
 in Newgate-street. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXIV. 
 
 BLUESKIN DEVISES A PLAN FOR BAFFLING JONATHAN 
 WILD. 
 All three of the fugitives drew a long breath of relief 
 when this imminent peril fairly passed by them. 
 
 But they did not venture to emerge from their place of 
 concealment until the sounds of the horses' feet had en- 
 tirely died away. 
 
 Then Jack spoke. 
 
 " That was what I call a narrow escape," he said. " If 
 we had left this embrasure he would, in all probability, 
 have seen us." 
 
 " He might have done so." 
 
 " Let us take encouragement from this occurrence/' 
 
 " We ought to take advantage of it." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " Why, we happen to know just where our enemy is. 
 He has taken the road just opposite to the one I had fixed 
 upon in my own mind, so there will soon bo a considerable 
 distance between us." 
 
 " I understand you. It is your wish to start at once." 
 
 " This moment." 
 
 " And which way shall you go ? " 
 
 " The nearest to the open country." 
 
 " That will be down the Borough." 
 
 " Just so. As I said, in exactly the opposite direction 
 to that taken by Jonathan Wild. Come at once." 
 
 As Blueskin spoke he stepped out of the recess where 
 he had been concealed on to the pavement of the bridge. 
 
 He was quickly and closely followed by Jack Sheppard 
 and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 It took them but a few minutes to cross the bridge, and 
 then, in accordance with Blueskin's intention, they took 
 their way down the Borough, that being the route by 
 which the country could be soonest gained. 
 
 Blueskin walked a little in advance, but not so much so 
 as to make conversation inconvenient. 
 
 Edgworth Bess and Jack Sheppard walked together. 
 
 It was the latter who broke the silence. 
 
 " You have made up your mind to get into the country, 
 Blueskin, but have you thought at all about the means by 
 which we are to get there ? " 
 
 " I was just doing so when you spoke." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 " I was considering the difficulties that stood in the 
 way." 
 
 " What are they ? " 
 
 " Very great. In the first place, the move would do no 
 good if we left any trace by which we could be followed." 
 
 " I suppose that is tlie chief difficulty." 
 
 " It is, for of course you understand that if Jonathan 
 knows where we are we shall not be any better off than 
 we were before." 
 
 " We shall be worse." 
 
 Certainly we shall, because in the country we should 
 not have the same facilities of concealing ourselves as we 
 have in London." 
 
 " Very well, then. That only serves to show you the 
 absolute and imperative necessity of not leaving the least 
 clue behind us." 
 
 ■ You are right ! But what do you prc«pjso ? " 
 
 " I thought at first that we might perhaps take places
 
 420 
 
 BLTJESKTX: A T50MANCE. 
 
 in the stage-coach, but a little reflection showed me that 
 such a course would be about the most dangerous we 
 could adopt." 
 
 " I should not have thought so." 
 
 " I will tell you my reasons. I had the idea that, Jona- 
 than Wild had established a very elaborate spy system, 
 and what you told me about the bill with ' Keward! ' 
 printed at the top of it convinces me that I am right. 
 
 "But what of that?" 
 
 "A great number of those bills would, beyond all 
 doubt, be put into circulation, and, in anticipation of our 
 leaving London, Jonathan would be cunning enough to 
 give one to the guard and driver of every coach that leaves 
 London, and so you see we should be almost sure to be 
 detected, for though the guard himself might not interfere 
 with us, yet he would know whereabouts he put us down, 
 and what would be easier than for him to communicate 
 that piece of intelligence to Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " I see now." 
 
 " I am of opinion that the risk would be by far too 
 great for us to incur, so that the idea of making our 
 journey by stage-coach must, I think, be abandoned." 
 
 " But, if so, what are we to do ? As we have told you, 
 the pirates have left us almost penniless, and you say that 
 your pecuniary position is far from good. What then are 
 we to do ? " 
 
 " I will tell you what I consider the only safe coarse 
 left open to us." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " To walk." 
 
 " Walk ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But we cannot." 
 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " There is Bess "— ~ 
 
 " Do you think I have omitted the fact of her being 
 with us in my calculations ?" 
 
 " But the poor girl is already worn out with fatigue, 
 nud is, I am quite certain, incapable of a long journey on 
 foot." 
 
 " How about yourself ? Are you capable ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, then, all is easy." 
 
 "Explain." 
 
 " Willingly. In the first place I should propose that 
 we all three walk as far as we can without completely ex- 
 hausting ourselves. In this way I hope to get out of 
 London." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " When we once get amongst the country lanes there 
 are, as you must be well aware, heavy waggons drawn by 
 a team of horses, both going to and from the city." _ 
 
 "But the objections you havo made to riding in the 
 stage-coach would apply equally well to them." 
 
 " Hear me out, if you please." 
 
 " Go on, then." 
 
 " We shall be out of London before we attempt to 
 notice one. We should then look out for a waggon return- 
 ing home empty, in which people often ride." 
 
 " I know all about that." 
 
 "Well, then, suppose we see one of these waggons 
 coming." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "My advice would bo that we give Edgworth Bess 
 money and leave her in the road while we hide behind the 
 hedgerows. Then, when the waggon comes up, Edg- 
 worth Bess must stop it and ask for a ride. The wag- 
 goner's suspicions, seeing her alone, will not probably be 
 excited. She will be allowed to enter the waggon. Now 
 do you understand P " 
 
 " Perfectly. We shall then follow on foot, taking care 
 not to be seen ourselves, and yet not allowing the waggon 
 to be one moment out of our sight." 
 
 " That is just it. What do you think of the plan ? " 
 
 " It is a very good one. A better could not bo devised, 
 and, what is more, it can be carried out with thtf utmost 
 ease." 
 
 "Then we are agreed upon that point ?" 
 
 " Yes, if Edgworth Bess is." 
 
 " Oh ! I am. In the matter of oar mutual safety I 
 shall always fall in with any arrangements you may pro- 
 pose. I have no objection to the plan, if I could only feel 
 sure, as Jack has just said, that the waggon was never a 
 moment out of your sight." 
 
 " You may rely upon that." 
 
 " Then I consent gladly. 
 
 " That's well. You see while we have been talking we 
 have already walked a considerable distance, and almost 
 unconsciously." 
 
 " Wg have." 
 
 " Courage, then. We shall very soon be fairly out of 
 London, and when we are you shall enter the first empty 
 waggon going in our direction. We shall easily be able to 
 keep up with it, because its speed is sure not to exceed 
 four miles an hour." 
 
 In such like talk as this the tedium of their long walk 
 was chased away. 
 
 The new day came. 
 
 The sun rose in all his majesty in the eastern sky, and 
 tinted the earth with his glowing beams. He mounted 
 higher and higher in the heavens, and still found our 
 travellers upon the road. 
 
 Loudon was fairly left behind, and the beautiful open 
 country gained. 
 
 Edgworth Bess bore up bravely. 
 
 She was very weak and very much exhausted by the 
 exertions she had already made. 
 
 Still she cheerfully kept on. 
 
 Whenever they could they rested her, sometimes by 
 sitting upon the trunk of a tree lying by the roadside ; at 
 others, by sitting on the banks beneath the hedges, or on 
 stiles leading over into fields. 
 
 For the time of year, the day was a very warm one, and 
 one would scarcely have thought the season so far 
 advanced as it was. 
 
 The sky was cloudless — of an intense blue colour very 
 rarely seen in England, and the sun shone with great 
 power and brightness. 
 
 Autumn had tinted the leaves upon the trees, and gave 
 them a yellow tinge, but on this fine day they looked like 
 grain gradually ripening in the sun, and not as though 
 they were in one of the stages of decay. 
 
 All seemed beautiful. 
 
 The birds sang, aud flew blithely in the air. 
 
 Who would have thought there was such a thing as 
 trouble and unhappiness, when all around looked so 
 joyful ? 
 
 Our friends having been cooped up so long in Loudon, 
 looked upon the beauties of the country with sensations of 
 the keenest delight. 
 
 To them the scene had the greatest of all charms — 
 that of novelty. 
 
 At the next village they came to Blueskin determined 
 to purchase some provisions, a portion of which Edg- 
 worth Bess could take with her iu the waggon. 
 
 To have all three entered an inn they felt would have 
 been too dangerous. It would have seemed like courting 
 detection. 
 
 This resolve Blueskin put into execution, and was fortu- 
 nate enough to make his purchases without raising the 
 least suspicion. 
 
 They went on some distance further, until the village 
 was left behind, and then they sat down by the wayside, 
 for all three acutely felt the pangs of hunger. 
 
 The repast was a rude one, but they were satisfied with 
 it. 
 
 A large portion of the provisions was made up into a 
 bundle for Edgworth Bess to take with her, for they 
 determined she should not walk further, but wait until 
 the next waggon passed. 
 
 All the money they individually possessed was counted 
 up into one total, and then divided into three equal por- 
 tions. 
 
 This done, they sat down and waited. 
 
 Behind where they sat was a tall hedgerow, in which 
 was a most convenient gap, through which Jack and 
 Blueskin could make their way at a moment's notice. 
 
 They then sat and rested for nearly an hour, all the 
 time listening intently for the approach of a waggon, but 
 none appeared. 
 
 Presently, however, the faint tinkling of bells reached 
 Blueskin's attentive ears, and then he knew that the 
 waggon was coming, for in those days a musical, jingling 
 bell formed a part of almost every cart-horse's harness. 
 
 " Quick, Jack," he said ; " out of sight. We must not 
 be seen, and, least of all, seen hiding ourselves. Coine«" 
 
 Then turning to Edgworth Bess, he said — 
 
 M You quite understand what you have to do ? "
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 421 
 
 "Oh! yes." 
 
 " When the waggon comes you must call out at the top 
 of your lungs to the driver, and ask liim to give you a 
 lift. You must get in in tbo best manuer you can." 
 
 " But," asked Edgworth Bess, " suppose he should ask 
 me where I am going ? " 
 
 " You need not tell him. Say you are going a few 
 miles along the road." 
 
 " Very well; and there is another thing." 
 
 "Be quick, then, for in another minute or two the 
 waggon will be in sight." 
 
 " I wanted to know how I was to find out when you 
 required mo to alight and go no further." 
 
 " How fortunate that you should think of that. I con- 
 fess it had escaped me. I will tell you. When you hear 
 three loud whistles close together, coming from some- 
 There near you, understand by that that there is some 
 reason why you should alight." 
 
 " What shall I do then ? " 
 
 " Walk slowly along the road after the waggon, and 
 continue to do so till we overtake you." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " You quite comprehend all our instructions ? " 
 
 " Oh ! quite, and I will remember them. Thero is only 
 one thing which gives me uneasiness." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " I am fearful you should miss the waggon, and that 
 we should be unlucky enough to be separated again, and 
 you must recollect that alone I should be defenceless and 
 incapable of taking my own part." 
 
 " Dismiss from your mind all apprehension on that 
 score. Believe me, such fears are utterly groundless, so 
 do not allow them to give you any uneasiness." 
 
 " I will rely upon you." 
 
 " Do so — do so. We must part now, hut only in ap- 
 pearance. You need not fear any danger, because you 
 can depend upon our being close at hand to defend you." 
 
 " Thanks — thanks ! You are very good to me. Indeed, 
 if I had not two such friends as you are, my lot would be 
 a pitiable one, indeed. There is only one thing that re- 
 conciles me. I think a time will come when I shall be 
 able to display my gratitude." 
 
 " Farewell— farewell ! We must begone, or the wag- 
 goner will see us, and then he would be suspicious at 
 once. Rely upon our watching over you." 
 
 With these words Blueskiu and Jack Sheppard left 
 Edgworth Bess, and crawled through the gap in the 
 hedge into the field. 
 
 Here they were able to lie down at full longth and be 
 sure that no one could see them from the road, while at 
 the same time they were easily able, by looking between 
 the intricate roots, to see the road and everything upon 
 it. 
 
 They could see Edgworth Bess as she sat upon a log of 
 wood. The sun shone brightly upon her, and invested 
 her with a wondrous beauty. It did, indeed, seem a 
 world of pities that one so young and lovely should be the 
 victim of such unrelenting persecution. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXV. 
 
 THE THREE FUGITIVES SEEK SHELTER WITH THE 
 GIPSIES. 
 
 The jingling of the bolls upon the horses' heads now 
 sounded very plainly, and mingled with the pleasant sound 
 there came the heavy lumbering of wheels. 
 
 The fact is, the waggon would have come in sight much 
 sooner than it did but for the circumstance of there boiug 
 a bend in the road, which prevented anything from being 
 seen until it was close at hand. 
 
 Suddenly, then, the unwieldy vehicle came in sight, and 
 then Edgworth Bess rose to her feet. 
 
 There was a feeling of great security about the young 
 girl's heart, produced by the assurances which her two 
 protectors had given her. 
 
 Indeed, it might be said that she felt scarcely any fear. 
 
 The fresh pure air, too, of the country had revived hei 
 to a wonderful degree, and, though she had travelled so 
 many miles, she did not feel so fatigued even as she did 
 when she left London-bridge. 
 
 _ On came the waggon, the horses nodding their heads 
 violently at every step they took, and causing the bells to 
 ring. 
 
 Very much to the astonishment of our heroine, she was 
 unable to see any signs of a driver. 
 
 The horses appeared to have it all their owi. way, and 
 to be going along quite independently of anybody. 
 
 Edgwes-th Bess was not aware of the mode in which 
 the drivers of heavily laden waggons looked after their 
 teams, 
 
 The driver was quite comfortable — asleep under the 
 canva3 covering. 
 
 The horses were asleep, too, in all probability. 
 
 Edgworth Bess did not know what to do. It seemed 
 ridiculous to shout when there was no one to shout to. 
 
 In a whisper, for he saw her hesitation, Blueskin told 
 her to cry " stop ! " 
 
 It was, perhaps, the first time the young girl had ever 
 cried "stop ! " to anything on the king's highway. 
 
 However, she now shouted out with right good will, and 
 repeated her cry again and again, until at length the 
 lazy driver made his appearance, and stopped his team. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, according to her instructions, proffered 
 her request to be allowed to ride a little way because she 
 was tired and weary. 
 
 The man, struck perhaps by her beauty and the gentle, 
 winning manner in which she made her request, at once 
 gave his consent, and actually got down and assisted her 
 into the waggon. 
 
 There were two canvas flaps which hung down and 
 covered the ends of the waggon, but the driver drew these 
 aside and fastened them in that position by means of a 
 strap. 
 
 The interior of the waggon was littered to a depth of 
 several inches with fresh, clean straw, which was all that 
 it contained. 
 
 Edgworth Bess found she had quite a comfortable seat, 
 and by sitting close to the end she was able to see a long 
 way down the road. 
 
 The waggoner was one of those rough but kind-hearted 
 men which are so frequently met with employed in such 
 pursuits. 
 
 He made himself friendly with the poor heiress at onco, 
 and, having set his team in motion, he talked to her upon 
 various subjects, and thus beguiled the tediousness of her 
 journey. 
 
 From time to time she looked down the road, and at 
 the hedges on either side, but on no occasion did she 
 catch a glimpse of either of her two protectors. 
 
 Indeed, she scarcely expected to do so, although she 
 kept looking with a forlorn sort of hope, for she knew how 
 sedulously they would keep themselves hidden from the 
 driver's view. 
 
 Hours passed by. 
 
 The sun which the poor girl had seen rise that morning 
 she now saw descending in the western sky. 
 
 She had produced her little bundle of provisions, and 
 invited the driver to share them with her. 
 
 They passed through many villages, none of which were 
 known to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The signal had not reached her ears, so she came to the 
 conclusion that all was well, and that her two friends 
 were following the waggon, which they would bo easily 
 able to do, for it went over the ground at a very lazy rate 
 indeed. 
 
 As it grew dusk, the driver, who had never, perhaps, 
 kept awake for such a long time at a stretch as he had 
 done since ho picked up Edgworth Bess, now dropped off 
 into a slumber. 
 
 A few minutes after Edgworth Bess unconsciously 
 joined him in it. 
 
 The poor girl was thoroughly worn out, and sleep waa 
 just the thing she required. 
 
 To be sure, her repose was none of the soundest or 
 easiest, but still she slept, though the least thing iu the 
 world would have roused her. 
 
 How long she slept she kuew not, but it was for some 
 time. 
 
 The sua sunk. 
 
 Darkness came over the earth by slow and imperceptible 
 degrees. 
 
 Suddenly tho waggon stopped. 
 
 The cessation of the uneasy motion had the immediate 
 effect of waking Edgworth Bess and the waggoner as 
 well. 
 
 " Dang it J " he said. " I e'poie we's reached home, 
 then."
 
 122 
 
 BLUiSKIH t A ROMANCE. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was ratlier confused for a moment, and 
 then she recollected where she was. 
 
 " Don't you go any further, then ?" she asked. 
 
 "No, miss," replied the waggoner, " I am at the cud 
 of my journey now. I wish 1 wasn't if you have nny 
 further to go." 
 
 " You are very kind," said Edgworth Bess, smiling at 
 the man's rude compliment. " I have not much turthcr 
 to go, however. You have stopped very conveniently to- 
 me." 
 
 " That's lucky, miss, for I should not like you to go far 
 such a night as this." 
 
 " I am exceedingly obliged to you for your kindness," 
 replied Edgworth Bess, who was touched to the heart by 
 the waggoner's bebaviour. " I shall not forget you." 
 
 " All right, miss," said he, giving his whip a tremendous 
 crack. 
 
 Edgworth Bess slipped some money into his hand, and 
 then hastened along the road. 
 
 She did not go further, however, than just to get out of 
 sight of the waggon. 
 
 According to her arrangement, she sat down there and 
 waited for the coming of Jack and Blueskin. 
 
 Despite their assurance that they would not let the 
 waggon be out of their sight for a single moment, she 
 could not help feeling anxious and uneasy. 
 
 She started at every slight sound that came to her 
 ears. 
 
 It was profoundly dark. 
 
 The hour was somewhere about midnight. 
 
 Dense lead-coloured clouds covered the heavens, and 
 now and then the squally gusts of winds that blew at short 
 intervals would bring with them a dash of rain drops. 
 
 Presently Edgworth Bess heard her name pronounced 
 in a faint tone by a well-remembered voice. 
 
 She replied gladly enough. 
 
 The next moment there was a crackling sound, and 
 Blueskin and Jack Sheppard broke through the hedgerow 
 on one side of the road. 
 
 With one bound they were at her side. 
 
 The meeting was as glad a one as though they had been 
 separated for years instead of a few hours. 
 
 " The waggon has reached the end of its journey, then, 
 it seems," said Jack Sheppard. " We were at first some- 
 what in doubt about it, for we could hardly tell whether 
 such was the case, or whether the man had made a call 
 upon the road." 
 
 " No ; ho said that was home." ** 
 
 " So we found, and then we made all speed here. Did 
 you find your ride a comfortable oue ? " 
 
 " Very, and the driver was very kind to me indeed." 
 
 " Do you feel rested ? " 
 
 " Quite. But how are you ? " 
 
 " Well— rather tired." 
 
 " Have you followed the waggon on foot all t^iwio ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Since we started ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And you have been walking ever since before day- 
 break, surely you must be completely worn down ? " 
 
 " We are, if we only confessed the truth. At last we 
 had some trouble to keep up with you." 
 
 " And I was riding while you were so tired." 
 
 " What of that P " 
 
 " It does not seem right." 
 
 " But it is. We had, however, made up our minds to 
 seek shelter somewhere or other as soon as we see our 
 opportunity." 
 
 " Oh ! do so — do so." 
 
 " Come, then. We will walk a little further along the 
 road. We may, perhaps, come to some place where it 
 would be safe for us to ask for a night's lodging." 
 
 " What is that ? " asked Jack Sheppai-d, pointing widi 
 his finger as he spoke. 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Cannot you see a bright light yonder ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " I cannot make out. It is nowhere on the high-road 
 I fancy. It seems to me, to be right away ever the 
 fields." 
 
 " It does." 
 
 " Stop a moment, aud I will try to make out what it 
 
 The three fugitives baited, and Blueskin put his hands 
 up to his eyes in such a manner as to prevent all extraneous 
 rays of light from falling on them, and looked long and 
 earnestly at the light. 
 
 " I have it," he said, at length. 
 
 " What do you make it out to me t " 
 
 "Afire." 
 
 "Afire?" 
 
 " Yes, I can tell by the tone in which you ask that 
 question that you do not understand me. It is the firo 
 belonging to a gipsy encampment." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes, I caught sight of the canvas tents." 
 
 u Then, Blueskin, my friend," said Jack Sheppard, 
 " that is the thing for us." 
 
 " You would seek shelter there ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I should think it would be safe ? " 
 
 " I should think so. At any rate, it is worth our while 
 to try. If they will only consent to allow us to sleep along 
 with them in their tents we shall be all right. There will 
 be no fear of their betraying us." 
 
 " Let us try the experiment, then, for, if you will be- 
 lieve me, I am so weary that I can scarcely bear to put 
 my foot on the ground." 
 
 " I too am weary," said Blueskin; "for I have gone 
 through a great deal of fatigue since I slept last." 
 
 " You have, indeed." 
 
 While speaking, the three worn out fugitives took their 
 way in as direct a line as possible to the light which in- 
 dicated the presence of the gipsy encampment. 
 
 The high-road they found intersected a common, of tho 
 size of which they could form no definite idea. 
 
 It was somewhere on this piece of waste land doubtless 
 that the gipsies had pitched their tents. 
 
 As they went nearer the fire appeared to increase in 
 brightness, and our three friends could see, not only the 
 tents of which Blueskin had spoken, but also several 
 dusky-looking figures. 
 
 When within about a hundred yards of the firo, a man 
 suddenly sprang up from the ground, and planted himself 
 directly in their path. 
 
 In a gruff voice he desired to know where they were 
 going, and what they wanted. 
 
 Blueskin replied — 
 
 " We are three poor fugitives, wearied unto death, and 
 outcasts from tho house-dwellers. We want to know 
 whether the Zingari will give us shelter for one night 
 beneath their tents ? " 
 
 " You are spies," said the man with tho gruff voice. 
 " Begone ! " 
 
 "No, we are not spies. We are what wo tell you — 
 friendless, wandering outcasts. We are not penniless, 
 however, though we are poor ; and if you will graut us 
 the accommodation we really very much require, you 
 shall have all we can afford to spare to repay you for your 
 trouble." 
 
 " You speak fail'," said the man. " The Zingari is not 
 one to turn his back upon others. He knows what it is to 
 be friendless and alone. Come with me. I will take you 
 to the tents, and present you to our queen. Whether she 
 will allow you to stay, I know not." 
 
 As he spoke, the gipsy turned abruptly on his heel, and 
 led the way to the encampment. 
 
 Our friends followed him. 
 
 The common was very rough and full of treacherous 
 holes, while here and there stunted gorse-bushes stuck up, 
 to the imminent danger of the pedestrian who came upon 
 them unseen. 
 
 Edgworth Bess stumbled several times, aud narrowly 
 escaped a heavy fall, so Jack made her take hold of his 
 arm. 
 
 After a few minutes the encampment was reached. 
 
 Somehow or other, the scene which presented itself 
 appeared a very comfortable one. 
 
 The bright firo looked doubly cheerful when contrasted 
 with the large expanse of common which surrounded it, 
 and its light fell with a pretty and picturesque effect upon 
 the tents aud upon the clump of elm trees, beneath whoso 
 shadow they were pitched. 
 
 The fire-light fell with a Rembrandt-liko effect upon the 
 swarthy forms and countenances of the gipsies who were 
 seated aiound it. 
 
 To our three tired fugitives the ecene before them was
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 423 
 
 one of rest and comfort, and they were pleased with it 
 accordingly. 
 
 Tho man who had acted in the capacity of guide cmv 
 addressed some words to his companions in a language 
 quite incomprehensible to the fugitives. 
 
 With some anxiety they waited for the reply. 
 
 At length it came. 
 
 They would be allowed to stay there that night upon 
 their taking an oath not to betray them. 
 
 This the fugitives readily enough did, for they had no 
 intention of doing such a thing. 
 
 After this, bread was broken between them, after which 
 they were safe. 
 
 They were invited to sit down. 
 
 Gladly enough did they do so. 
 
 The warmth of the fire was very acceptable, for the night 
 was chilly 
 
 Three wooden sticks, secured at the top, and placed in 
 the primitive triangular position, suspended a large three- 
 legged pot, from which savoury steams arose. 
 
 The three friends were happier that night than they had 
 been for a long time. 
 
 They felt a sense of great security. 
 
 They partook heartily of the supper along with the 
 gipsies as soon as it was ready, and then all retired to rest 
 in the various tents, with the exception of those whose duty 
 it was to perform the part of scouts, aud apprize the main 
 body of the approach of any foes. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN, JA.CK SHEPPARD, AND EDGWORTH BESS ARRIVE 
 AT TIIE SUICIDE'S GRAVE AT TIIE FOUR CROSS-ROADS. 
 
 The night passed away calmly and quietly, and without 
 the occurrence of any incident whatever. 
 
 In the morning the three fugitives were aroused by the 
 gipsies, but their fatigue was so great that they entreated 
 them to allow them to rest a little longer. 
 
 Their request was granted, but the piece of information 
 was added that they were about to strike their tents at 
 sunset, and proceed in the direction of London. 
 
 All three of the fugitives were very sorry to hear this. 
 They were in hopes they should have been able to pro- 
 tract their stay, but this townwards movement put an end 
 to all such ideas at once. 
 
 There is very little question that, if they could have 
 joined a band of gipsies who intended to make an excur-. 
 sion into the interior they would have been tolerable safe, 
 for the trace they left behind them would be one which 
 even Jonathan Wild himself would have some trouble in 
 following. 
 
 But they were doomed to be thrown altogether upon 
 their own resources, and denied even this amount of 
 safety. 
 
 Towards sunset they were again aroused, and this time 
 they had no choice but to rise. 
 
 They were, however, wonderfully rested. 
 
 Indeed, they felt themselves endowed with unusual 
 steugth and spirits. 
 
 " It is, perhaps, all for the best, Jack," said Blueskin, 
 alluding to their departure from the gipsies' tents. " We 
 are a great deal too near London to be safe. Jonathan 
 might track us thus far with ease, and ho would not be 
 likely to pass by a gipsies' encampment without thoroughly 
 searching it." 
 
 " Perhaps it is for the best." 
 
 " The advantages of a stay here would be many and 
 great, but we must get further away from London. We 
 are now rested and refreshed, and I advise that we should 
 pass the night in walking. We must trust to providence 
 to find us another shelter." 
 
 " I leave you captain of this campaign, Blueskin. I 
 am sure you will do all for the best." 
 
 " Let us prepare to start, then. You see tne gipsie* 
 are already beginning to move their things, and I should 
 not like to trespass upon their kindness." 
 
 " Certainly not ; they have behaved very well to us.' r 
 
 " They have. Now go and call Edgworth Bess." 
 
 The poor girl was in company with the female gipsies 
 belonging to the tribe, and Jack hastened off to fetch 
 her. 
 
 Ho soon returned, and then, having bid adieu to the 
 friendly gipsios, they resumed their tci'some journey. 
 
 By the time the sun started the sun had set, and dark- 
 ness had began to cover the earth. 
 
 There were indications, too, by the look of the clouds 
 on the horizon, that the night would be a stormy one. 
 
 A moaning wind came rushing by, and the tree-tops 
 dashed together and rustled with a molancholy sound. 
 
 Every now and then, too, there would come a threatening 
 splash of rain. 
 
 Blueskin observed these indications of elemental strife 
 with an uneasy mind. 
 
 He knew what they foreboded. 
 
 It was not for himself that he cared, but Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 He knew her constitution was not one that would bear 
 with impunity tho inclemency of the weather. 
 
 Still he resolved to push on. 
 
 There was no place close at hand where they could have 
 stayed, and the threatened storm might perhaps hold 
 over until the morning. 
 
 Edgworth Bess uttered no word of complant. 
 
 She took hold of Jack Sheppard's arm to assist her- 
 self. 
 
 In this way they walked on for some time, until, indeed, 
 the middle of the night was reached. 
 
 By that time the sky had assumed an appearance angry 
 in the extreme. 
 
 Threatening black clouds had piled themselves up, and 
 made the darkness doubly deep. 
 
 The moaniug of the wind, too, increased in loudness, 
 and the splashes of rain came with greater force and fre- 
 quency. 
 
 Nowhere could the fugitives see a dwelling-house of 
 any kind. All around them was dark, drear, and deso- 
 late. 
 
 They were, in faGt, pursuing a cross-country road thai 
 was but little frequented. 
 
 Suddenly the rain broke forth with all its fury. 
 
 There were a few premonitory heavy drops, which foil 
 with a sudden clash upon the earth, and then tho rain 
 came down in torrents. 
 
 Our three freinds were wet through to tho skin in- 
 stantly. 
 
 Fain would they have withdrawn into some place where 
 they could have at least obtained something like shelter 
 from the rain. 
 
 But no such place presented itself to their veiw. 
 
 There were hedgerows on either side of the road, but 
 they were so low and thin that they would not have 
 afforded the least protection. 
 
 The rain did not seem to come down in drops, but in one 
 huge sheet, as though a cloud had suddenly dissolved into 
 moisture and precipitated its contents bodily upon the 
 earth. 
 
 Then came the thunder. 
 
 Faint muttering and far off at first, but gradually in- 
 creasing until it seemed to shake the very ground beneath 
 their feet. 
 
 And the lightning was both vivid and incessant. 
 
 The three friends cowered down before it. 
 
 But Blueskin and Jack Sheppard both directed the 
 chief part of their attention to their fair companion, and 
 strove to make her position as little miserable as possible. 
 
 How grateful she felt for all their kindness ! 
 
 Suddenly, in the deep obscurity, Blueskin perceived 
 some shadowy-looking object. 
 
 What it was, Blueskin could not take upon himself to 
 say. 
 
 It seemed to occupy the centre of the roadway t 
 
 Its outlines were dim and indistinct. 
 
 It looked like a huge mass of black cloud. 
 
 At the next flash of lightning Blueskin hoped to be able 
 to make out what it was. 
 
 He pointed it out to his two companions, and bade them 
 fix their eves upon it also, and to take all the advantage 
 they coula of the transient flash of light. 
 
 They did so. 
 
 They did not have long to wait for the coming of the 
 next fliVih. 
 
 They succeeded each other at very brief intervals. 
 
 Flash ! 
 
 The intensely brilliant blue light shot across tho sky, 
 and momentarily illuminated all things. 
 
 Then there was darkness. 
 
 Tho three fugitives had not been able to glean much
 
 1 424 
 
 BITJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 knowledge respecting the strange object in the road before 
 them. 
 
 It looked huge and black . 
 What could it be ? 
 
 They crept forward to ascertain, for although tho rain 
 poured down in such heavy torrents their curiosity was 
 iuucli excited. 
 
 They were not without the hope, too, that it might 
 provo a shelter of some kind. 
 
 Hastening forward in a crouched-up attitude — for the 
 violence of tho storm made them cower down before it — 
 they directed their steps to the mysterious object. 
 
 It was not far in advance, so they soon reached it. 
 
 Just as tkey arrived there came another flash of light- 
 ning more vivid and enduring than any they had yet 
 noticed. 
 
 The object before them was then fully revealed. 
 
 They saw it with distinctness for the first time only. 
 
 In the very centre of the road was piled up a huge 
 mound of stones. 
 
 What the motive could be, our friends wero at a loss to 
 imagine. 
 
 There was no regularity iu tho manner in which the 
 stones were heaped, nor in the size of the materials which 
 were used. 
 
 Some wero small pebbles and others huge fragments 
 of rock which would have taken three men to lift. 
 
 The only thing seemed to be that, whoever had done 
 this, had desired to raise a mound of stones in the road, 
 and was by no means careful how he did it, and cared 
 little about the shape which the whole mass might 
 assume. 
 
 Standing close to it as they did, our friends were able 
 to see it with tolerable ease and distinctness without tho 
 aid of the lightning, for tho rain had fallen upon the 
 stones and given them a shining, phosphorescent appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Looking up to the top of this mound of stones Blue- 
 skin saw something projecting from it, and then, for the 
 first time, he had an idea of what the strange spectacle 
 before him signified. 
 
 Sticking up from the centre of tho mouud was some- 
 thing which looked like a piece of wood. 
 
 As soon as he noticed this, Blueskin turned his atten- 
 tion from the mound to a contemplation of the spot upon 
 which he stood. 
 
 lie looked around him closely, and then the suspicion 
 which had entered his mind was confirmed. 
 
 Jack had noticed his motions and so had Edgworth 
 Bess, and both in one voice asked him the meaning of 
 what they saw. 
 
 " I will tell you," he said. " You may neither of you 
 have seen such a thing before, but I can assure you they 
 are very common. We are now standing where two roads 
 eioss each other at right angles." 
 
 " You mean four cross-roads ? " 
 
 " Yes. Four cross-roads. Now, perhaps, you under- 
 stand?" 
 
 " No, I do not." 
 
 " Then, by the law of the land, those who put an end 
 to their own lives are buried in the centre of four cross- 
 roads without any burial service read over them. A long 
 hedge-stake, sharpened at one end to a point, is driven 
 through their breasts into the ground ; thus, in a manner 
 of speaking, pinning them to the ground. Then the earth 
 i ■; shovelled into the hole, and a lot of stones piled round 
 tho stake just in the manner you now see before you." 
 
 These terrible words which Blueskin just uttered with 
 respect to a disgusting custom, brought back to the minds 
 of both his hearers the fact that they had, in times long 
 back heard of such things but they had not known whether 
 to believe them or treat them as fables. 
 
 Now, however, there was uo room for scepticism. 
 
 The dread, stern, horrible reality was before them. 
 
 It was an odious and abhorent ceremony. 
 
 It is wonderful however it could have been otherwise to 
 civilized organizations. 
 
 Even the most brutal and ferocious savage* forbear j 
 from desecrating the body of the dead. ■ 
 
 What good could it do to wreak such a vengeance upon 1 
 a senseless corpse ? 
 
 What knowledge had it of the indignities inflicted upon ] 
 it after death '( 
 
 The sensitive mind of Edgworth Bess shrank back ra 
 horror from such a close contemplation of 80 dreadful a 
 thing. 
 
 Yet there it was palpable before them. 
 
 It is not too much to say that the interest and attention 
 of the three fugitives was so absorbed by the contempla- 
 tion of this strange spectacle, that they were for a time 
 oblivious of the fact that the storm raged with undimin- 
 ished fury. 
 
 To them the unhallowed grave of tho suicide possessed 
 a fascination which they could not shake off. 
 
 A. thousand thoughts and questions rushed iuto their 
 minds to which they were totally unable te frame any 
 reply. 
 
 Who could have been the unhappy individual who had 
 come to sad an end ? 
 
 That probably was more than they would ever know. 
 
 " This is horrible," said Edgworth Bess ; " most 
 horrible. Until this moment I had no idea that such 
 atrocities could be sanctioned by tho law." 
 
 " It is so," said Blueskin ; and I am not afraid to say 
 that the civilized inhabitants would rise up to a man 
 were any alteration proposed in the existing l"w ! " 
 
 " No— no. I will not believe that." 
 
 " It is true." 
 
 " Where are their hearts ? " 
 
 " If you meau where are their pity and their feeliugs, 
 I should say they were just about as deficient of both as 
 these rough stones which are heaped up over the suicide's 
 grave." 
 
 " Good heavens ! can it be possible ? " 
 
 " It is true. But come, this is not exactly the time to 
 stand talking upon such a subject, no matter how deep an 
 interest we mightrfeel in it. It is quite time we looked 
 for aud found some shelter." 
 
 " It is indeed. I am soaked through to the skin." 
 
 "But," said Jack Sheppard, " lean see no signs of any 
 place which will afford us shelter. We seem to be in an 
 uuiuhapited region." 
 
 " So we do. But there are four roads, and surely one 
 of them must lead to a dwelling." 
 
 " Which one shall we take ? " 
 
 " We must look and see which one appears to be noat 
 frequented, and take that." 
 
 " Good." 
 
 " Go on, then." 
 
 At this moment there came a flash of lightning of such 
 extraordinary vividity, that it seemed to scorch tho very 
 eyeballs of tn« three fugitives. 
 
 Instinctively they clasped their hands over their faces 
 to shut out the fearful brilliancy. 
 
 No sooner, however, had they done so than tho thunder 
 pealed forth with ear-splitting loudness. 
 
 It seemed as though the hollow reverbrations would 
 never cease. 
 
 At last, however, they died away. 
 
 Then there came a gush of wind, bearing upon its 
 wings certain sounds, which, however, reached the ears 
 of Jack alone. 
 
 " Hark ! " he cried to his his companions ; " hark ! 
 hark ! " 
 
 They listened eagerly, for they knew not what it was to 
 which Jack wished them to hearken. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 " What is it ? " they asked. 
 
 " I heard tho tramp of many horses' feot." 
 
 " No — no ! Impossible ! " 
 
 " I did. The sound came to my ears quit© distinctly. 
 The wind seemed to blow it in. But I can hear the sounds 
 mi longer." 
 
 " It must havo been fancy." 
 
 " No — no, I am sure it was not. Stay a moment. I 
 will lie down and place my ear upon the ground, and listen 
 if I can hear anything." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack Sheppard sank down, and placed hi* 
 aar upon the ground. 
 
 His two companions remained profoundly still. 
 
 Oh ! how anxious they felt to know the result, for th* 
 dread was upon them that Jack was right, and tlwt Jona- 
 than Wild was hard upon their track. 
 
 i
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMANCE. 
 
 425 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS SEE AN APPARITION IN THE RUINED FARM-HOUSE.] 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXVII. 
 
 BLUESKIN, JACK SHEPPARD, AND EDGWORTH BESS SEEK 
 A TEMPORARY REFUGE IN THE RUINED FARM-HOUSE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was well aware, from previous experience, 
 that the expedient he had adopted, of lying down and 
 placing his ear close to the ground, would enable him to say 
 with tolerable certainty whether any horsemen were upon 
 the road, or whether his sense of hearing had played him 
 a trick. 
 
 Very distant and faint sounds are by this means made 
 quite audible. 
 
 Anxiously, then, Jack listened. 
 
 He rose up on his feet, however, almost immediately. 
 
 " I was right," he said. " I thought I had made no 
 mistake. There are horsemen on the road." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Quite sure. Listen for yourself." 
 
 Blueskiu placed his ear upon the earth and listened. 
 
 The intelligence Jack had giveu him was indeed too true. 
 
 No. 54 
 
 Horsemen were on the road, and in rather large 
 numbers, too. . . 
 
 That it must be Jonathan Wild they felt certain, though 
 they had no very clear grounds for such an assumption. 
 
 Still it was a likely one, for Blueskin and Jack both 
 well knew that Jonathan would not relax his efforts to 
 capture them. 
 
 That the horsemen were approaching the spot upon 
 which they stood soon ceased to be a matter of doubt. 
 
 It was no longer necessary to lie down on the ground to 
 listen. The sounds came quite plainly to their ears, and 
 each moment grew louder. ,, 
 
 " We must begone," said Blueskin, " and at once. 
 
 " But which way shall we take ?" . 
 
 " That I know not, but I would fain seek the shelter ot 
 some dwelling-house, if only for the sake of Bess. 
 
 "And I, too." , T 
 
 " It will not be safe for us to take any of these roads, 1 
 am afraid, because it is a matter of impossibility for us to 
 say which road Jonathan may take."
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 " Ere long we shall come to a stile or a gate, or a gap in 
 the hedge, even ; and I should advise that we adopt either 
 of these means to gain the meadows." 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 "We will strike across them, and endeavour to find 
 some hahitation." 
 
 " Agreed." 
 
 " We will shelter there as long as we can, and trust to 
 Jonathan not discovering us." 
 
 " We can do nothing else." 
 
 " Come on, then, for, if we stay here undecided much 
 longer, we shall have them upon us." 
 
 " We shall, indeed." 
 
 The violence of the storm had now in some degree 
 abated. 
 
 The rain no longer fell as it had done, and the thunder 
 only muttered at distant intervals. 
 
 The three fugitives were therefore able to proceed with 
 much more comfort than before. 
 
 Blueskin did not hesitate about the choice of which of 
 the four roads he should take. He was content so long as 
 it led away from Jonathan Wild. 
 
 They ran down one of the roads, then, and ere they 
 had gone a dozen yards, they saw on the right hand a 
 five-barred gate. 
 
 They stopped at once, for it was just the sort of thing 
 they wanted. 
 
 Through the bars of the gate they could see the grass 
 in a meadow beyond. 
 
 When he got close to the gate, Blueskin was astonished 
 to find what a neglected appearance it presented. 
 
 Its ruinous condition was even perceptible in the dark- 
 ness of the night. 
 
 The upright posts or supports on either side of it were 
 both far out of the perpendicular. 
 
 The gate hung by one hinge merely, and where it 
 ought to have been shut close and fastened, there was a 
 large crevice. 
 
 Then the bars of the gate were broken and decayed, j 
 while over the whole there grew soma vegetable exeres- ' 
 cence of a moss-like character, and which felt soft and 
 clammy when touched. 
 
 Blueskin noticed these things in a moment — while he 
 was pushing the dilapidated gate open, in fact. 
 
 There was something very extraordinary in a gate being 
 left in such a condition as this, opening as. it did from the 
 road, and Blueskin felt convinced that there must be some 
 mystery in connexion with it. 
 
 From the difficulty he had in pushing the gate open far 
 enough to allow them to pass through, he eame to the 
 conclusion that a long time must have elapsed since it was 
 touched. 
 
 He could not understand it. 
 
 There was not just then any time for surmises, though, 
 of course, he could not shut his eyes to the obvious pecu- 
 liarities of the place. 
 
 However, he got his companions through as quickly as 
 possible, and then, with some little trouble, he restored the 
 gate to as near the same condition as possible as ho found 
 it. 
 
 This done, they struck across the meadow in a direction 
 at right angles to the road, and keeping all the time in the 
 shadow of a tall hedge. 
 
 As he proceeded, the neglected appearance which he 
 had noticed became more and more apparent. 
 
 The grass in the meadow was an enormous height, and 
 very rank in quality. 
 
 It was quite certain it had not been mowed that summer 
 at any rate. 
 
 The hedge, instead of being trimmed, and presenting 
 the neat appearance which hedges always do present, had 
 shot out straggling branches in all directions, while long 
 trailing shoots extended themselves upon the ground. 
 
 These last wore perplexing, and made their onward 
 course very difficult, for each moment their feet were 
 catching in them. 
 
 At a tolerably rapid rate, however, they left the road 
 behind them, and soon the trampling of horses' hoofs, 
 which had so alarmed them, subsided into silence. 
 
 Still they kept on with unabated speed. 
 
 Two large meadows were passed through, the condition 
 of both of which was precisely similar. 
 
 Entering the third field, the fugitives saw before them 
 
 in the distance the dark and shadowy outline of sometning 
 which looked like a human habitation. 
 
 In the hope that this surmise would prove a correct one^ 
 they hastened their steps. 
 
 As they approached more closely, they saw, to their 
 infinite delight and satisfaction, that it was indeed a 
 dwelling-house. 
 
 No light, however, appeared in any part of it, but they 
 were not surprised at that, because they knew it was the 
 custom of country people to retire early. 
 
 The outbuildings were first reached, and, from the 
 appearance of these, it became tolerably evident that it 
 was a farm-house they were approaching. 
 
 As they came close to them, however, they found they 
 had just the same ruinous appearance as the other objects 
 they had passed. 
 
 Blueskin, however, alone appeai*ed to nofcico it, and, 
 finding this to be the case, ho attracted Jack's attention 
 by saying — 
 
 " Look at these buildings, Jack. Do you see what a 
 ruinous condition they are in ? They do just stand, and 
 that is all." 
 
 " I see it now; but, until you pointed it out, I had not 
 noticed it." 
 
 " I thought you had not. It strikes me that the house 
 we see yonder is uninhabited." 
 
 " I hope not." 
 
 " It does not matter. Wo shall, ten to one, bo safer if 
 such proves to be the case." 
 
 " We shall have to trust no one." 
 
 " Very true ; and, consequently, we do not run the risk 
 of being betrayed. But come, quicken your steps, and 
 let us put an end to all doubts upon the subject." 
 
 At an accelerated speed, the three fugitives now made 
 their way through what was doubtless originally the fold- 
 yard. 
 
 Then a few more steps brought them close to the 
 house. 
 
 They found Blueskin's suppositions completely verified. 
 
 The house was uninhabited and in ruins. 
 
 A glance at the half-open door would have proved that 
 instantly. 
 
 The walls, too, were crumbling away, and they had col- 
 lapsed in many places. 
 
 There was something repugnant about the place, and 
 all three halted on the threshold. 
 
 All around was as silent as the grave. 
 
 The rain still fell heavily, and with a steadiness which 
 did not promise it to be of short duration. 
 
 Shelter was therefore very desirable. 
 
 Still all shrank from crossing the threshold, though 
 why, not one of them could have precisely told. 
 
 A vague kind of feeling came over them that all was 
 not well. 
 
 It was Blueskin who first recovered from this feeling, 
 and starting forward, he pushed the door open. 
 
 It creaked dismally upon its hinges as it swung back 
 for a short distance, and then stopped. 
 
 The interior of the farm-house, for such it was, was in 
 absolute darkness. 
 
 Not a single thing was distinguishable. 
 
 Blueskin nevertheless crossed the threshold, and as he 
 did so, he said— 
 
 " Come in out of the rain. I won't keep you in the 
 dark a moment ,• I will light my lantern." 
 
 Blueskin produced a bottle of phosphorus while he 
 uttered these words, and soon had a match alight. 
 
 The tiny flame of this he communicated to the wick in 
 his lantern, and there was soon quite enough light to 
 enable them to see about them, and ascertain what kind 
 of place they were in, while, at the same time, owing to 
 its passing through a lens, there was not much danger of 
 its being seen by any one at a distance. 
 
 The scene which the lantern revealed, as Blueskin 
 flashed it round him, was indeed a dismal one. 
 
 It was the wreck of what had once been a comfortable 
 apartment. 
 
 But now one universal aspect of desolation pervaded 
 the whole. 
 
 The plaster had fallen in huge flakes from the walls, 
 and on the floor the moisture had collected into sickly- 
 looking pools. 
 
 The fire-place was one of an old-fashioned make, con- 
 sisting of a hearth-stone, upon which the fuel to be
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 427 
 
 burned was heaped, and over which was the large mouth 
 of a chimney. 
 
 But even this was in ruins. 
 
 There were a few articles of furniture in the place, and 
 among them a rickety table. 
 
 On tho side facing the door was a wide staircase with 
 massive balustrades, which the action of time had turned 
 completely black. 
 
 The look of this deserted and dilapidated apartment 
 struck a chill to the hearts of tbe three fugitives as soon 
 as their eyes had embraced its details. 
 
 Still it seemed to offer them a shelter from the storm, 
 and perhaps even from their enemies. 
 
 Blueskin turned round and shut the door close, though 
 he had to exert himself to press it into its frame. 
 
 Then, turning round, he strove to speak such cheering 
 words to his companions in misfortune as he was able to 
 utter. 
 
 " Come," he said, " do not look so down-hearted ; this 
 is not the most comfortable place in the world, but there 
 are many worse." 
 
 " I am very wet and cold," said Edg worth Bess, with a 
 shiver. 
 
 " I do not doubt that ; we are in the same condition. 
 It is very hard that you, above all others, should be 
 exposed to the inclemency of tho weather." 
 
 " Do you think there would be much risk in lighting a 
 fire ? " asked Jack. " I am perished with cold, and, 
 besides, we should be able to dry our clothes a little." 
 
 " I don't see where the risk is at all," replied Blueskin. 
 " The only question is, where are we to find fuel ? " 
 
 " There is Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I know there is, but I think we have given him the 
 slip completely. But, if he is hovering about, I don't see 
 that a fire would direct him here." 
 
 " Not without he knew this place was uninhabited." 
 
 " I don't think it at all likely that he possesses that 
 piece of knowledge." 
 
 " He cannot know everything." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Then look about, and, if we can find some dry wood, 
 we will soon have a fire." 
 
 Blueskin gave the lantern to Edgworth Bess, and began 
 looking round the apartment for fuel. 
 
 To seek it on the outside of the building would be fool- 
 ish, for all that he found would be sure to be soddened 
 with the rain. 
 
 They had not to seek long. 
 
 The farm-house had been built in a great measure with 
 wood, and ■ Jack and Blueskin in a few minutes collected 
 quite a heap, which they piled up on the hearth. 
 
 It was then set fire to. 
 
 The wood was very dry, and consequently burnt into a 
 bright blaze. 
 
 The warmth diffused was very agreeable. 
 
 Blueskin searched for more wood, and this time selected 
 larger pieces than he had before. 
 
 These were placed upon the others, and then they had 
 a fire which would burn for a long time without replenish- 
 ment. 
 
 The three fugitives dried their soaked clothing before 
 it, and warmed themselves thoroughly. 
 
 Their blood even had become cold. 
 
 At intervals Blueskin and Jack repaired to the door and 
 listened. 
 
 Upon no occasion did they hear any sound which indi- 
 cated the proximity of their foe. 
 
 The rain, however, still continued to fall at a steady 
 rate, and the heavens were everywhere covered with a 
 huge black cloud, in which not a single break or rift could 
 be seen. 
 
 It was strange to see what an alteration the presence of 
 the fire and of our friends made to the deserted kitchen of 
 the ruined farm-house. 
 
 It began to assume quite a cheerful look. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was very weary, and as soon as her 
 apparel was dried somewhat, she sat down close to the 
 fire. 
 
 Her two protectors persuaded her to sleep if she could, 
 but this she found to be impossible. 
 
 The fire crackled and splattered as the rain-drops came 
 down the chimney. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXVIII. 
 
 BLUESKIN SETS OUT ON HIS RECONNOITERING EXPEDITION, 
 AND MEETS WITH A MISHAP. 
 
 Could Jonathan Wild but have had a peep at the 
 interior of the ruined farm-house, how his heart would 
 have throbbed with glee. 
 
 At the head of his band of janizaries he would have 
 rushed into the place and taken them prisoners. 
 
 But he had no idea they were located there. 
 
 There was a faint prospect that the three fugitives would 
 be allowed a few minutes' rest and peace. 
 
 Ere long they overcame the inconvenience which the wet 
 state of their clothing occasioned them, and then they 
 looked more cheerfully ai - ound them. 
 
 The ruinous and neglected state of the farm-house and 
 the grounds surrounding it, filled them with surprise and 
 conjecture. 
 
 It was in vain they tried in various ways to account for 
 what they saw. 
 
 They were unable to frame any tangible hypothesis. 
 
 The huge kitchen in which they were appeared to form 
 the whole ground-floor of the dwelling. 
 
 It was not an uncommon thing for houses to be built in 
 such a manner. 
 
 What was overhead they knew not, and as for the stairs, 
 they looked too crazy and rickety for anyone to feel the 
 least inclination to ascend them. 
 
 Some more powerful impulse than mere curiosity would 
 be required for the purpose. 
 
 At length, after a rather long pause, during which each 
 of the three was busily occupied in thinking over the 
 prospect which the future presented, Blueskin broke the 
 silence. 
 
 " We seem to be quite safe hero, and free from interrupt 
 tion- 1 am weary, and so are both of you. What do you 
 say to our passing the night here ? In all probability we 
 shall be more safe than elsewhere." 
 
 " I was thinking of the very same thing at the moment 
 you spoke," replied Jack. " As you say, I am weary, and 
 a night's rest would be everything to me." 
 
 " Oh ! stay — stay," cried Edgworth Bess. " We shall 
 be as safe from our persecutors if we remain here than if 
 we go away ; perhaps more SGi_and you and Jack must not 
 forget how necessary it is for $=ou to have rest." 
 
 I am inclined to think it will be best," said Jack. 
 " At any rate, Blueskin, let us stay. It may be a long 
 time before wo get into such comfortable quarters again." 
 
 " Comfortable quarters ? Not very, I should think." 
 
 " The place has greatly changed in its appearance 
 during the short time we have occupied it." 
 
 " True, so it has. But Jack." 
 
 " What, Blue ? " 
 
 " If we decide to stay, there will be two necessary things 
 to be done." 
 
 " What are they ? " 
 
 " One is, to obtain provisions. If the truth was told, we 
 are all three more in want of food than we are of repose, 
 even though, goodness kuows, wo want that bad enough." 
 
 " We do, indeed, Blue. But what is the next thing 
 necessary to be done ? " 
 
 " Its importance is second only to the first." 
 
 " I am impatient to hear it." 
 
 " It is to reconnoitre the premises, and bo sure that 
 none of Jonathan Wild's men are about." 
 
 " I understand you, but I am afraid tho task will be 
 difficult." 
 
 I am ready to undertake it." 
 
 " I do not doubt that, but you must permit me to carry 
 it out." 
 
 " No— no." 
 
 " But I say yes — yes." 
 
 " And I say no again. Jack, you must give way to me 
 in this. Without self-flattery, I may say that I am more 
 fitting to perform this task than you are." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but " 
 
 " I can listen to no reasons of yours, Jack. I will tell 
 you what I have determined upon doing. You will please 
 to recollect that you have yourself constituted me captain 
 of the campaign." 
 
 " If you will not listen, of course it is no good for me 
 to speak. In my opinion it will be much better for me to 
 go." 
 
 " I daresay such is my opinion. But listen. I will tell
 
 l 428 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 you what I intend to do. I stall accomplish both my 
 errands at the same time. That is to say, I shall pur- 
 chase some provisions and ascertain whether Jonathan 
 Wild is in the neighbourhood." 
 
 " You will find it a difficult matter to perform your task 
 without exciting suspicion." 
 
 " I know that, but you leave it all to me. You may do 
 so with all confidence. I have had experience in matters 
 of this sort, and I know how to set about them. I cannot 
 rest until I have satisfied myself that all is secure., and 
 therefore I go at once." 
 
 " But when will you return ? " 
 
 " That is rather uncertain. I may be back directly — I 
 may be absent for several hours. It is impossible to say 
 what may occur. Do not feel alarmed if I do not return, 
 but wait till daylight." 
 
 "And then" 
 
 " Why, then, you may conclude I have got into trouble. 
 But don't trouble your bead about that. It is not worth 
 j'our while. I mention it merely because it is within 
 the bounds of possibility that such a thing may happen." 
 
 " I dread to separate from you," said Jack. 
 
 " Very likely. I have a similar feeling in my own 
 breast. It is, however, quite certain that we cannot all 
 three go upon this errand, and equally certain that we 
 cannot all three remain here without obtaining some 
 further information respecting the movements of our 
 enemies than we now possess." 
 
 " I understand fully the force of all your arguments, 
 and yet " 
 
 "You have a feeling of dread. It is a natural one. 
 Believe me, I have felt the same sensation steal over my- 
 self. Now, Jack, I am going. I must — I shall bo back 
 soon." 
 
 " And I too." 
 
 Blueskin looked to his weapons, and having placed them 
 in such a condition as to be ready for immediate use if 
 required, he went to the door, and, opening iit, looked 
 out. 
 
 He was by no means sorry to see that the rain had 
 almost ceased, and that there were indications in the sky 
 of fair weather. 
 
 He lingered a moment at the door of the mined farm- 
 house, and then, after repeating his injunctions to his 
 companions, he crossed the threshold, and passed out into 
 the night air. 
 
 Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess stood at the open 
 door watching his departure, but as soon as he observed 
 this, Blueskin made them an hasty and imperative sign to 
 close it and retire. 
 
 He was fearful that the bright light of the fire within 
 should attract attention. 
 
 It was solely against their inclinations, but Jack aud 
 Edgworth Bess obeyed the instructions of their compa- 
 nion. 
 
 Blueskin looked back, and waited until he saw the door 
 shut. 
 
 Then he began to look about him. 
 
 The enterprise which he had taken upon himself was 
 one which was by no means easy to execute. 
 
 It was to find out whether Jonathan Wild was really 
 lurking in the vicinity. 
 
 It will be remembered by the reader that our friends 
 entirely took the alarm from hearing the sounds of horses' 
 hoofs upon the roadway. 
 
 This was very far indeed from being an uncommon 
 event, and yet, as we have seen, they jumped to the con- 
 clusion that it was Jonathan Wild's approach which was 
 thus heralded. 
 
 Whether they were correct in this conclusion they knew 
 not. They had beat a precipitate retreat, and obtained no 
 further information. 
 
 It might be that their alarm was altogether grouncress. 
 
 But, on the other band, it might have been Jonathan 
 they heard, and, if so, the necessity was very great to 
 know where he was, and how he was employed. 
 
 Blueskin kept close under the shelter of the hedges, 
 and crept forward stealthily. 
 
 It was much lighter than it had been, though it was 
 still night, and he could see with tolerable ease and com- 
 fort about him. 
 
 The neglected state of the grounds surrounding the 
 farm-house was, therefore, more perceptible than ever. 
 
 The farm seemed one of large extent, but, as far as he 
 
 could see, one universal aspect of desolation pervaded the 
 whole. 
 
 What could be the cause of such a state of things was 
 hard to say. 
 
 Blueskin felt that he should receive no small satisfaction 
 if the mystery was cleared up. 
 
 _ Occupied with these thoughts, he made a complete 
 circuit of the house, but nowhere could he see the least 
 signs of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He began to indulge in the hope that they had need- 
 lessly alarmed themselves, aud that he was nowhere near. 
 
 Besides, Blueskin asked himself, how could he have 
 obtained a clue to their present whereabouts ? 
 
 He thought he had really left no trace, but then his old 
 foe had come upon him with even more unexpectedness. 
 
 Blueskin made two circuits of the house — one rather 
 close to it, and the other at a greater distance. 
 
 Then he emerged into the road, where they had entered 
 such a short time before. ■ 
 
 He looked up and down, but all was still. 
 
 Finding this to bo the case, he turned to the right down 
 the road. 
 
 If he had turned to the left it would have taken him to 
 the suicide's grave. 
 
 As it was, he fancied before he got far he must arrive at 
 a village of some sort. 
 
 In this supposition he was quite correct. 
 
 Very soon he saw before him a mass of buildings. 
 
 He approached these cautiously. 
 
 The houses he found were small, and all shut up. 
 
 For the first time now the thought struck him that at 
 so late an hour he should have the greatest difficulty 
 perhaps in making any purchases. 
 
 It is easy to conceive Blueskin not thinking of this 
 before. He had lived nearly all his life in London, where 
 things are procurable at all hours. 
 
 Not a soul was anywhere about, nor was there at any of 
 the windows the faintest glimmer. 
 
 His only hope now was to find some inn open. 
 
 But after walking quite through the village, that hope 
 was frustrated. 
 
 He passed two public-houses, but they were closed, and 
 the inhabitants evidently all in bed. 
 
 What to do now he knew not. 
 
 He was tired, and almost ready to sink to the ground 
 with hunger. 
 
 In the vaguo hope of finding something, he still 
 wandered on along the road, until the village was left 
 behind. 
 
 Finding himself once moi - e in the open country, he 
 turned hack. 
 
 It was the only thing ho could do. 
 
 One part of his enterprise had been unsuccessful. 
 
 As for the other, ho had not seen anything of his 
 enemies. 
 
 Suddenly, however, as he was taking his way wearily 
 towards the village, he was startled by a loud cry. 
 
 Then there was the hasty trampling of horses' feet. 
 
 At the time this happened he was just passing the end 
 of a narrow shady lane, which branched olf from the main 
 rond upon which he was travelling. 
 
 The shout and the trampling of feet came from this 
 lane. 
 
 Blueskin turned round with great quickness. 
 
 Danger was at hand. 
 
 But ere he could do more than become conscious of this, 
 he felt himself struck down as if by lightning. 
 
 He fell in the roadway upon his back. 
 
 He had a dim consciousness of a loud report like that 
 of a pistol ringing in his ears, but that was all. 
 
 He lay on the road at full length, bereft of sense and 
 motion. 
 
 It was a pistol shot which had laid him low. 
 
 The report was succeeded by a voice, which the reader 
 will recognise instantly. 
 
 "D — n me, guv'ner! It's done this time, aud no 
 mistake. Pop down he goes. Easy does it." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild, junior, for it was no other than that 
 worthy, descended from his steed. 
 
 His words were succeeded by a volley of the most hor- 
 rible imprecations which could come from human lips. 
 
 One person only possessed the ability to utter such a 
 speech, and that person was the celebrated thief-taker, 
 Jonathan Wild.
 
 BLUESKIN : A HOMANCE. 
 
 429 
 
 " Easy does it, guv'ner," said bis son again, in Lis usual 
 impassible manner. " Easy does it, guv'ner. Yonr 
 scbemesare all d— d fine, but I tbougbt I would just sbow 
 you bow to do business." 
 
 " Ten thousand curses ! " yelled Jonathan Wild. " Is 
 he dead ? " 
 
 " I daresay he is, guv'ner." 
 
 " No — no. Tell me anything rather than tell me he is 
 dead. He must live. I must not be cheated thus. I 
 will have my revenge — my revenge ! Watson, look at him, 
 and tell me whether he is alive." 
 
 Jonathan Wild was accompanied by his janizaries, and 
 the one he had named now hastily dismounted from his 
 steed and proceeded to the spot where Blueskin lay pros 
 trate on the ground. 
 
 " Now, guv'ner," said Wild, junior, " how can you be 
 so unreasonable ? Take it easy. If he is dead he is out 
 of your road, and let that content you." 
 
 " But it will not content me. I will not be baulked of 
 my revenge in such a manner. Curses on your officious- 
 ness ; why did you not leave him to me ? I would have 
 captured him alive." 
 
 " Don't be a d — d fool." 
 
 " Take care, George," said Wild, balefully. 
 
 " I say, don't be a d — d fool," repeated his son, un- 
 dauntedly. " Captured him alive ! Stuff and rubbish ! 
 You mean you would have let him go like you have done 
 many a time before! You are a regular idiot, guv'ner; 
 you are indeed. Here's your man ! I see him ! Pop ! 
 and down he goes ! What more do you want ? " 
 
 " He is alive, Mr. Wild, I think," said Watson, who, 
 assisted by his comrades, had made an examination of 
 Blueskin's body, and ascertained the extent of his injuries. 
 " He is alive, sir, I think." 
 
 " Pour some brandy down his throat," cried Jonathan ; 
 " and see if that will have any effect." 
 
 " Where is there any brandy, sir ? " 
 
 " Here," said Wild, and, as he spoke, he pulled a 
 flask out of his own pocket and threw it to the men. 
 
 George Wild caught it, and, taking out the cork, he 
 placed the flask to Blueskin's lips, and poured as much as 
 he could down his throat. 
 
 Blueskin was on his back, so this was made much easier 
 than it would have been. 
 
 The effects of the brandy were rather extraordinary. 
 
 Blueskin turned almost black in the face, and gasped 
 once or twice. 
 
 Another moment and he would have been suffocated, 
 but Wild, junior, rather roughly turned him over on to 
 his face. 
 
 The brandy gurgled from his mouth, but otherwise 
 Blueskin exhibited no signs of life. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXIX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS SEE AN APPARI- 
 TION IN THE RUINED FARM-HOUSE. 
 
 " Jack, I feel so strangely — there comes such a strange 
 sensation over my heart ! What can it mean ? It seems 
 like a presentiment of coming danger. Ever since I have 
 been here — ever since I crossed the threshold of this 
 gloomy and deserted habitation — there has been an op- 
 pression at my heart which I have tried in vain to shake 
 off, and, now that Blueskin has gone, it has increased ten- 
 fold in intensity." 
 
 It was Edgworth Bess who spoke these words, as, Hold- 
 ing Jack by the hand, she turned away from the door after 
 Blueskin made a sign to them to close it. 
 
 Jack Sheppard did not make any immediate reply to 
 her speech, but led her back to the seat she had occupied 
 by the 6ide of the blazing fire. 
 
 The words she had just uttered fully expressed the 
 state of his own mind. 
 
 Ever since he had entered the farm-house, a dread of 
 impending evil had crept over him, and he had never been 
 more sensible of it than he was at that moment. 
 
 It was not his intention, however, to cast a further 
 gloom over the mind of his companion by telling her 
 this. She was sufficiently depressed already, and any 
 increase might be attended with the worst circumstances. 
 
 Assuming, then, a tone of voice which he fully intended 
 should be a light-hearted one, but which really was not, 
 he said — 
 
 " You must dispel these gloomy thoughts. They will 
 
 else only have the effect of unnerving you, and making 
 you unfit for whatever is in store for us." 
 
 " I cannot help it, Jack. If you will believe me, I have 
 tried my best to shake it off, but the effort is altogether a 
 vain one." 
 
 " You speak in a very desponding tone of voice. You 
 must rouse up and be more cheerful, indeed you must. 
 It is wrong of you to allow yourself to be so influenced by 
 circumstances.' 
 
 " I cannot help it, Jack." 
 
 " I fancy it is the absence of Blueskin which has had 
 the most to do with it." 
 
 " Perhaps so. You see he has rejoined us such a little 
 while, and now he seems to be gone again." 
 " He will soon return." 
 " I wish I could be sure of that." 
 " You ought to feel sure. You must know enough of 
 Blueskin by this time — you must have seen enough of him 
 to know that he is no ordinary man. He will pass through 
 a danger scatheless where another would be crushed. As 
 yet he has invariably proved himself a match for Jonathan 
 Wild." 
 
 " There is some consolation in that reflection, but still 
 my heart is full of fear." 
 
 " All will be well ; believe me, all will be well. When 
 you come to think of it, the enterprise upon which Blue- 
 skin has gone is not at all a dangerous one." 
 
 " I should not think it so if we were all three together, 
 but it is the separation which I dread." 
 " That is only natural." 
 
 " Oh ! how hard it is that we should be persecuted like 
 we are. And for what ? Bemuse I wish to regain pos- 
 session of that which is righthJly my own, and, what i» 
 worse than all, both of you are involved in my persecu- 
 tions because you have taken part with me against my 
 powerful enemies." 
 " Do not grieve about that." 
 
 " But I do, and I cannot help it. But for me, and your 
 unfortunate championship of my cause, how different 
 would have been your fortunes ! " 
 
 " I shall not listen to you if you begin to speculate upon 
 that point. I am content with what I have done, and I 
 am sure Blueskin is content also." 
 
 " You may be so ; but if by renouncing my fortune and 
 expectations I could procure your safety and pardon for 
 the various offences against the laws which you have com- 
 mitted, believe me I would gladly — gladly do so. 
 Jack was much affected by these words. 
 About their sincerity he had no sort of doubt. 
 It was a minute or two before he could command his 
 voice sufficiently to speak. 
 
 And then his utterance was husky and indistinct. 
 " It would not matter how willing you would be to make 
 so great sacrifice," he said, slowly. " For my own part 
 I could never consent to it, and I think I could speak 
 with as much confidence regarding Blueskin." 
 
 " And would you pain me by refusing to accept to receive 
 the only recompense I could make to you for what you 
 have done ? " 
 
 " We wish no such recompense. I could not, rest with 
 >he knowledge that Jonathan Wild had achieved such ;i 
 triumph. No — no. 'Dismiss the thought. Besides, if 
 you were to make the offer, Jonathan would not accept of 
 it." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 " He would not." 
 " It is my wealth he wants." 
 
 " But he wants revenge, too ; and he would be villain 
 enough to pretend to accede to your wishes and then 
 betray us all." 
 
 " Ob ! heaven. How can such monstrous iniquity 
 exist ?" 
 
 " It does; but why I know not." 
 As he spoke, Jack rose, and going towards the door, he 
 opened it, in the hope of hearing or seeing something of 
 his old comrade. 
 
 But he was disappointed. 
 
 He looked all around him, but not the least 6igns of him 
 were to be seen. 
 Edgworth Bess rose, too, and came to the door. 
 She rested her hands familiarly upon Jack's 6houlder, 
 and looked out into the darkness with him. 
 " Is he coming ? " she asked. 
 " I cannot see or bear anything," 
 
 ^— ' in
 
 430 
 
 BLTJESKTN: A. ROMANCE. 
 
 " Nor I." 
 
 They were again silent. 
 
 The wind whistled through the dilapidated outbuildings 
 of the farm-house with a melancholy sound. 
 
 A chill air swept over the face of the earth, and Jack 
 and Bess shuddered before it. 
 
 As they looked around them, there came back to their 
 minds a more distinct recollection of the scenery they had 
 lately passed through. 
 
 Like Blueskin, they speculated upon the condition in 
 which they found the house and grounds, but without 
 being able to arrive at any reasonable conclusion. 
 
 " What a strange thing that was we saw in the lane jest 
 before we came here ! " said Edgworth Bess, after a short 
 interval of silence. 
 
 " Do you mean the suicide's grave ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " It was a strange sight." 
 
 " It was indeed, and such a one as I should not care to 
 look upon again. I wonder who the unhappy being was 
 whose remains find there a last resting-place." 
 
 " That I know no better than yourself, though I 
 confess I would fain learn something more respecting it 
 than I know at present." 
 
 " And I too. It is an awful thing when you reflect 
 upon it, and how close it is to this strangely deserted 
 place." 
 
 Jack startled slightly as Edgworth Bess thus spoke. 
 
 It had never occurred to him to connect the grave of the 
 suicide in the four cross-roads and the scene of desolation 
 which he now beheld together. 
 
 The novelty of the idea startled him, and the conviction 
 that there was really some kind of connexion between the 
 two, took firm hold upon his mind. 
 
 " It is close to this place," he said, half -musingly. " It 
 seems scarcely a stone's throw from it. I should say with 
 certainty that this is the nearest habitation." 
 
 " It seems so." 
 
 " I never thought of connecting the two as yon have 
 done, but no doubt if we could solve the mystery of the 
 one, that would unriddle the other." 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " But speculation is idle. We have nothing tangible to 
 go upon. You shudder too. It is cold for yon to stand 
 here. Let us go in again." 
 
 " Listen for Blueskin first." 
 
 Jack did so, but no sound came to his ears. 
 
 Turning away, then, he once more closed fcae door. 
 
 As they approached the fire — which, during their 
 temporary absence had burned away to a dull red — both 
 were startled by distinctly hearing a sound which could be 
 likened to nothing but a long-drawn sigh. 
 
 Jack recovered himself almost instantly. 
 
 But not so his companion. 
 
 She clung tightly J and with every appearance of the 
 utmost terror, to his arm. 
 
 " What— oh ! what was that ? " she gasped. " Tell 
 me ! Speak to me at once ! " 
 
 " What ? " asked Jack, with as much composure as he 
 could muster, and professing ignorance of what she 
 meant, although he knew so well. " What has alarmed 
 you ? " 
 
 " Did you not hear it ? " 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 Edgworth Bess passed her hand over her forehead. 
 
 " I thought I heard something — like — like a deep-drawn 
 sigh." 
 
 "Indeed?" 
 
 " Did you not hear it ? " 
 
 " I fancy it must have been the wind," replied Jack, 
 evasively, " whistling through some crevice in the wall." 
 
 "There — there! again! Oh! what was that? You 
 heard it, then ? " 
 
 Another sigh like the first, such a one as would come 
 from some grief-stricken heart, came to the ears of Edg- 
 worth Bess, and to the ears of Jack Sheppard, too, as she 
 could tell by the start he gave. 
 
 There could be no mistake as to the character of the 
 sound. Nothing but a sigh could have sounded like it. 
 
 A sensation, such as he had never before felt, crept over 
 Jack as he heard it. 
 
 His breath came short and thick. 
 
 As for his companion, her agitation was extreme. 
 
 Again she asked her former question. 
 
 Her voice was low and faint. 
 
 " What was that, Jack ? Oh ! tell me what it was. I 
 feel terrified to death." 
 
 " Quiet your apprehensions. You have nothing to bo 
 alarmed at. What I heard certainly sounded like a long, 
 drawn sigh ; but, as I said before, it is almost sure to be 
 the wind." 
 
 A dull, red glow came from the fire smouldering on the 
 hearth. 
 
 It lighted up indistinctly and imperfectly the wholi 
 apartment. 
 
 By the aid of this illumination, then, Jack Sheppard 
 looked about him, but he could see nothing more than he 
 had seen before. 
 
 " Sit down," he said to his companion. " Sit down, 
 and compose yourself. Your alarm is groundless. Sit 
 down, I pray you." 
 
 Thus urged, Edgworth Bess assumed a half-sitting, 
 half-crouching position by the fireside. 
 
 Jack drew his sword, and stirred the embers of the fire 
 together. 
 
 A bright blaze sprang up, and once more the whole 
 apartment was thoroughly lighted up. 
 
 Edgworth Bess glanced timidly around her, but she 
 saw nothing to excite her terrors. 
 
 " You see," said Jack, " that your fears had no founda- 
 tion. Unquestionably the sound we heard is to be ascribed 
 to the cause I mentioned." 
 
 As he spoke, there came for the third time a prolonged 
 sigh. 
 
 There was in reality no mistake about the character of 
 the sound. 
 
 It was such a one as would be produced by the 
 inhalation and exhalation of breath from the lungs. 
 
 In fact, a sigh. 
 
 Jack knew this, but he dreaded to confess as much to 
 Edgworth Bess, for fear her alarm should be increased 
 thereby. 
 
 A cold, chilly feeling was about Jack's heart ; he was 
 oppressed with a vague indescribable sensation of terror 
 of he knew not what. 
 
 Edgworth Bess drew close to him, and clung tightly to 
 lus breast. 
 
 She felt safe while she did so. 
 
 Suddenly Jack felt her grasp upon him increase in 
 tightness, and, looking down, he saw that her face was 
 convulsed with horror. 
 
 Her lips were open, and moved slightly. 
 
 But no sound came from them. 
 
 Her eyes were intently fixed in one direction. 
 
 Instinctively his eyes followed her gaze. 
 
 They rested upon the dilapidated crumbling staircase 
 which we have already described. 
 
 But there was nothing in that to produce the effect he 
 witnessed. 
 
 Looking more closely, however, he saw, close to where 
 there was a bend in the staircase, a shadowy-looking 
 figure. 
 
 When he first saw it the outlines were so faint and in- 
 distinct that it was scarce to be distinguished ; but, as he 
 gazed with a strange kind of fascination, he saw the out- 
 lines become clear and sharp, though much of the shadowy 
 misty appeai - ance which the figure presented still re- 
 mained. 
 
 It seemed to be the 2gure of a female, for Jack could 
 perceive that the lower half of it was enveloped in long 
 flowing garments. 
 
 With straining eyes, and a heart beating at thrice its 
 ordinary rate, Jack looked at this strango apparitioa> if 
 such it was. 
 
 He seemed spell-bound. 
 
 As for Edgworth Bess, the whole of her energies were 
 employed in gazing at the figure. 
 
 More and more distinct it became, though by what 
 means they scarcely knew. 
 
 Not only could the whole outline of the form bo now 
 perceived, but that it was indeed the figure of a female — 
 and a young one, too. 
 
 The face was plainly visible. 
 
 It was one of rare loveliness. 
 
 But ghastly white. 
 
 There was, too, upon it an expression of the most un- 
 utterable anguish. 
 
 Her hands were email and white.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 431 
 
 One seemed to rest upon the massive balustrade of the 
 old staircase. 
 
 Her dress was one such as Jack could dimly remember 
 his grandmotber having worn, and doubtless it was at 
 that epoch that they were fashionable 
 
 There was something very interesting in the appearance 
 of this figure, and something very harmless, too, for who, 
 looking upon those grief-stricken features, could have 
 dreamt for a moment that the possessor of them would 
 have done harm to any one. -* 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD OBTAINS A CLTJR TO THE DESERTION 
 OF THE FARM-HOUSE BY FOLLOWING THE APPARITION. 
 
 The silence which prevailed in ihe ruined farm-house 
 while the singular scene we have, been describing took 
 place is something which cannot be properly realized. 
 
 The breathing of Jack and his terrified companion was 
 so slight as to be perfectly inaudible. 
 
 No sound came from the staircase where the figure of 
 the young girl could be seen. 
 
 No sound had heralded her approach. 
 
 She seemed to grow out of the darkness. 
 
 And now there she stood, silent and immovable. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had heard much respecting apparitions, 
 but he had disbelieved all the tales which had been told 
 him respecting them. 
 
 Now he felt his disbelief in their existenco rather 
 shaken, for what could be the mysterious object before 
 him but a spectre ? 
 
 Moreover, the presence of an apparition would at once 
 account for the ruinous and uninhabited condition of the 
 farm-house. 
 
 When a dwelling gets the reputation of being haunted, 
 it quickly lapses into decay. 
 
 Indeed, it would soon present all the appearances which 
 that place presented. 
 
 Anxiously and eagerly, then, Jack watched to see what 
 was coming next. 
 
 It could not be said that he was exactly frightened by 
 what he saw ; indeed, it is questionable whether fcai ever 
 really found an entrance to that bold heart. 
 
 Curiosity was what he really felt. 
 
 He was anxious to know how the adventure would ter- 
 minate. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, however, whose mental organization 
 was much more delicate and sensitive, was terrified to 
 such a degree that she could scarcely contain herself. 
 
 She clung to Jack with a tightness which he would 
 have found it impossible to shake oft', if he had wished to 
 do so. 
 
 The figure of the young girl moved. 
 
 But so slowly and so gently as to be all but impercepti- 
 ble. 
 
 Still she did move. 
 
 Jack and his companion first became conscious of it by 
 perceiving not only that more of the figure was revealed, 
 but also that it was much lower down the stairs than it 
 was when they first saw it. 
 
 It was descending, but with a slow, gliding movement, 
 as though the apparition floated in the air iust an inch or 
 bo above the stairs. 
 
 It certainly descended. 
 
 Now it was on the bottom stair but one. 
 
 As it approached, Edgworth Bess shrunk slowly back 
 before it, until she was prevented from going any further 
 by Jack, who stood close behind her. 
 
 The interest and curiosity which Jack had hitherto felt 
 were redoubled. 
 
 In his earnest contemplation of the spectacle before him 
 he forgot everything. 
 
 Forgot the peril of their situation. 
 
 Forgot the peril in which his comrade was, no doubt, 
 placed. 
 
 In a word, every other feeling was absorbed in the con- 
 templation of what was taking place before him. 
 
 He wondered whether the spectre was coming close to 
 him, and then he asked himself, with some anxiety, wnat 
 kind of power such a supernatural being would be likely 
 to possess. 
 
 He felt that if she did come — if the apparition really 
 chose to place her hands upon him — he could not help it 
 A strange kind of fascination rooted him to the spot. 
 
 Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, however, the ap- 
 parition became stationary. 
 
 At the same moment the fire crackled, and a bright 
 blaze sprung up. 
 
 The spectre was then revealed with greater distinctness 
 than ever, and there could now no longer linger in the 
 mind of Jack Sheppard the least doubt respecting the 
 reality of what he saw. 
 
 It was no delusion of the senses. 
 There it stood, plain, and apparently tangible. 
 Moreover, it was seen not only by himself, but by Edg- 
 worth Bess, and it was quite impossible for them both to 
 be victims of the same illusion at the same time. 
 
 With unabated interest, fearful of moving his eyes for a 
 second, and straining them until they smarted and ached 
 unbearably — Jack coutined to watch. 
 
 The figure now turned half-round, as though it would 
 ascend the stairs again. 
 
 But this movement, like all the others which it made, 
 was perfectly inaudible. 
 
 There was not the least rustle or disturbance of the air. 
 And now, as she stood there in this fresh position, the 
 apparition raised her right arm from her side, against 
 which it had been placed. 
 
 Then, looking with a sorrowful and entreatful gaze into 
 the faces of Jack and Edgworth Bess, she beckoned to 
 them with her hand, as though she wished them to follow 
 her. 
 
 At least so they both interpreted the action. 
 Again and again did the spectre rspeat the movement. 
 Then she ascended the staircase a little way, and, turn- 
 ing round, beckoned to them again. 
 
 This put all doubts completely on one side as to the in- 
 tendments of the apparition. 
 
 Seeing, however, that Jack and Edgworth Bess made 
 no attempt to move, a look of still deeper anguish ap- 
 peared up«n the countenance of the apparition, and she 
 repeated her signal to them with less equivocation than 
 before. 
 
 And, perhaps in order that there should not be any 
 doubt about her wishes, she ascended the stairs a littlo 
 higher, beckoning with her hand at the same time that 
 she did so. 
 
 The curiosity which Jack had felt now took a fresh and 
 still more interesting turn. 
 
 It was evident, ho thought, that, for some reason on 
 other, the spectre wished him to ascend the stairs. 
 
 Perhaps there was something to be seen above that 
 would well repay a visit. 
 We have said that Jack felt no fear. 
 There was nothing in the appearance of the spectre to 
 excite such a feeling. 
 
 He resolved to follow it, no matter where it led. 
 As soon as he made this resolution he moved slightly, 
 but he found himself quite unable to shake off the grasp 
 of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He struggled, however, until he stood fairly upright. 
 " Release me," he said, in a whisper. " Release me. 
 See, she beckons to us to follow her, and I will do so." 
 
 Bess did not speak, but looked at Jack with an expres- 
 sion of the greatest terror on her countenance, and shook 
 her head. 
 
 " But I must go — I will," said Jack. " It may bo that 
 there is something to be seen which it is necessary for us 
 to see. And it may be that the time will come when wo 
 shall wish that we had gone to look, and thus put an end 
 to all uncertainty upon the matter." 
 " Oh ! Jack, I am afraid." 
 " Afraid of what ? " 
 " Of following her." 
 
 " Why so ? There is nothing terrible in her appearance. 
 She could not harm us if she would, and I don't think 
 she would have the least inclination." 
 Bess was silent. 
 
 " Come," he said, soothingly ; "there is nothing to fill 
 you with so much alarm — nothing at all. Will you stay 
 here by the fireside, and allow me to follow the appa- 
 rition upstairs alone, or will you prefer to accompany 
 me ?" 
 
 " 1 would rather neither." 
 
 " But one must be. Look, she beckons us again to 
 come. Let me assist you to your feet. That is it. _ Now 
 come with me, and take my word there is nothing to 
 fear."
 
 432 
 
 BLUESKIN:A ROMANCE. 
 
 Edgworth Bess permitted Jack to raise her to her feet. 
 He put his arm around her. 
 
 " Fear nothiug now," he said. " I can and will defend 
 you from all harm. Let us prosecute this adventure to 
 the end. Come." 
 
 Bess looked in the direction of the staircase. 
 There stood the apparition of the young girl, in the 
 same position as she had last seen it. 
 
 It looked brighter and more distinct, she thought, and 
 the expression of sorrow seemed much lessened. 
 
 Seeing her look in that direction, the spectre renewed 
 its intreating gestures for them to follow her. 
 
 " Wait a moment, dearest," said Jack. " Blueskin's 
 lantern is here. I will take it with me. Perhaps we 
 shall haws* need of it." 
 
 " Oh J jes—yes. Take the lantern. It will at least be 
 a consolation to us if we enter any dark place." 
 " It will." 
 
 Jaek took Blueskin's lantern from the place where it 
 had been deposited and lighted it. 
 
 Then, holding that in his right hand, and putting his 
 left arm round the waist of his trembling companion, 
 they both moved towards the bottom of the broken stair- 
 case. 
 
 A faint smile appeared upon the countenance of the 
 young girl when she saw that Jack was really about to 
 follow her, and she glided up the stairs until she was lost 
 to sight where they curved round. 
 
 Courage and daring are, like cowardice and fright, con- 
 tagious, and so it was that Edgworth Bess succeeded, in a 
 great measure, in freeing herself from those terrors which 
 bad weighed so heavily upon her. 
 
 It seemed to her that, the higher up she went, the 
 more tree she became. 
 
 Upon turning the bend in the staircase they looked up 
 and saw the same girlish, shadowy figure standing at the 
 top of the stairs, and still beckoning with her hand for 
 tbem to come on. 
 
 And now Jack was glad he had thought of bringing the 
 lantern with him, for the portion of the staircase they 
 were now ascending was profoundly dark. 
 
 The apparition glided away as they approached, all the 
 time taking care to preserve the same distance between 
 them. 
 
 When they stood on the landing at the top of the stairs, 
 they found the spectre standing near a door. 
 Once more beckoning to them it disappeared. 
 Jack made a bound forward and flashed the light of the 
 lantern upon the panels of the door. 
 
 There was no trace of the form of the young girl to be 
 seen. 
 
 The door through which she had passed was close shut. 
 
 Up to this moment something like an idea that wnat he 
 saw was not altogether supernatural had held possession 
 ot Jack s mind, but this seemed to dissipate it altogether. 
 
 Ihe door bad not been opened and closed again, he was 
 quite sure about that. 
 
 And if the figure had not passed through that door, 
 where was it ? 
 
 It had stood before that door and disappeared. 
 
 But where could it have gone ? 
 
 That seemed to be a mystery, without Jaek felt inclined 
 to take it for granted that this was a supernatural visita- 
 tion, and he was very loath to do that. 
 
 Edgworth Bess trembled, and her old fears came back 
 to her. 
 
 " Oh ! Jack— Jack ! " she said, " do not let us tempt 
 our fate any longer ; let us fly from this spot, and leave it 
 to those spirits who appear to have taken possession ©f it. 
 No — no. 
 
 || Why do you say ' no ? '" 
 
 " Supposing that what we see is supernatural, nhould 
 you like to oppose yourself to those of whose povTcrs of 
 mischief you can form no proper estimate ? " 
 What do mean, Jack ? " 
 
 "Just what I say, and no more. I think it perfectly 
 clear that it was the wish of that figure that we should 
 follow it here. 
 
 || I think so too." 
 
 " Then, do you not consider that it would be far wiser 
 lor us to obey the wishes of this mysterious form, so far as 
 we are able, than to refuse what they require, and by so 
 doing incur their resentment ? " 
 
 " I did not think of that, Jack." 
 
 " Then I am glad I suggested it to you, for it may be 
 the means of inspiring you with fresh courage." 
 
 "But, suppose this figure should lead us into some 
 danger ? " 
 
 " We must keep a good look out, and, when we see 
 anything perilous, then will be the time for us to draw 
 back." 
 
 " I understand you." 
 
 " So far we have come in perfect safety, and why not 
 further ? " 
 " Look-oh ! look." 
 " Ha ! " 
 
 While they were spealiug, an undefined something, 
 like a vapoury cloud, appeared before the door which faced 
 them. 
 
 It was, however, only tor a moment that it retained 
 this cloud-like appearance 
 
 It gradually solidified i'aelf, so to speak, and there 
 stood before them the sa.i^e figure they had previously 
 seen. 
 
 There was not visible upon her countenance any expres- 
 sions of impatience at their delay. 
 
 On the contrary, she looked smiling and encouraging 
 to them, as though she wished to persuade them to follow 
 her. 
 Again she beckoned. 
 Jack stepped forward. 
 
 He anticipated what was about to come — he was able to 
 do so now — and he fixed his eyes most steadfastly upon 
 the apparition. 
 
 He was determined that not a movement that it made 
 should escape his observation. 
 
 He directed the whole of the rays which came through 
 the lens of the lantern upon it. 
 Then went a step or two forward. 
 Again the spectre disappeared. 
 
 She seemed to melt away, and pass through the dooi 
 in the form of an impalpable vapour. 
 It was closed as before. 
 Jack felt not a little bewildered. 
 
 But now, wrought up to the highest possible pitch of 
 excitement, he dragged his trembling companion towards 
 the door. 
 He dashed himself against it. 
 It was fast. 
 
 Perspiration started on to his forehead, and streamed 
 down his face. 
 
 No longer could there be any scepticism about the 
 matter. 
 
 By no human agency could any one have passed through 
 the door in such a manner. 
 
 This was enough to cause hesitation even in a bold 
 breast. 
 But Jack did not falter. 
 
 Releasing his hold of Edgworth Bess for a moment, he 
 passed the lantern from his right to his left hand. 
 Then he felt up and down the door for a fastening. 
 His hand quickly encountered one of those rude drop- 
 latches, such as are even now to be found in old-fashioned 
 country houses. 
 
 He pressed upon the thumb-piece, and found the latch 
 rose freely up. 
 
 It was an anxious moment. 
 
 The least pressure, and the mysterious door would swing 
 open. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXr. 
 
 THE MYSTERIES OF THE RUINED FAR5I-HOUSE AKB FJJLLY 
 REVEALED TO JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 What was beyond ? 
 
 That was the question which involuntarily rose up in 
 Jack's mind. 
 
 Naturally enough, now that be felt he had the power to 
 do so, he hesitated for a moment before ho opened the 
 door 
 
 Strange thoughts crowded thickly in his mind. 
 
 But, banishing them by an effort, he flung the door 
 open 
 
 It creaked back mournfully upon its hinges. 
 
 A kind of faint twilight filled the room, and Jack was 
 quite at a loss to think from whence it came. 
 
 Just over the threshold he saw the same figure oane 
 again.
 
 3LUESK1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD TAKES BLUESKIN A PRISONER TO LONDON.] 
 
 She still motioned them to follow. 
 
 Urged on by an irresistible curiosity, Jack once more 
 placed bis arm round bis companion's waist, and led her 
 forwards. 
 
 Once over the threshold of the door, the light was 
 revealed. 
 
 In the roor above there was a large breach, through 
 which the night sky, covered with drifting clouds, could 
 be seen. 
 
 Jack cast a hasty glance around him, and saw that the 
 place in which he stood was an ordinary-looking chamber, 
 though of rather unusual size. 
 
 It seemed to be almost destitute of furniture. 
 
 The apparition glided along the floor of this room, fol- 
 lowed by Jack and Bess, feverishly impatient to know the 
 sequel of this strange adventure. 
 
 In one corner of this room was what looked like a large 
 closet or cupboard. 
 
 Towards this point the spectre appeared to direct her 
 steps. 
 
 She halted, however, when within a few paces of it. 
 
 Jack and Bess halted, too. 
 
 The figure turned round towards them, and then, raising 
 her right hand, she pointed, with a significant gesture, to 
 the cupboard. 
 
 Having done this, she turned away, and glided in the 
 direction of a dark corner. 
 
 Jack followed her, fearful that he should lose her, and 
 things be left in their present unsatisfactory condition. 
 
 The corner, too, was not suffered to remain long in 
 darkness, for he directed the beams of his lantern into it. 
 
 He could see nothing, however, but a confused heap of 
 something, but of what he could not say. 
 
 Towards this indistinguishable heap the spectre pointed, 
 and then began gliding rapidly across the room. 
 
 Fain would Jack then and there have stepped forward 
 and ascertained what it was that lay in the corner, but he 
 feared to take his eyes off the spectral form for a srngle 
 moment, and, when he saw it going in the direction of 
 the door, he followed it. 
 
 No, fifi.
 
 4-3$ 
 
 BLTJESKliff: A K0MA5TC2 
 
 From time (o time tL«» yoTOK gh'l turned round and 
 beckoned them on. 
 
 Jack told himself that there was something more to be 
 seen. 
 
 Supporting- bis half-fainting companion, for the scene 
 we have described was too much for Edgworth Bess to 
 stand, Jack followed the apparition out of the room on to 
 the landing, from the landing to the stairs, and down the 
 stairs into the apartment in which they had previously 
 been sitting. 
 
 The fire upon the hearth was now almost burnt out for 
 want of fuel. 
 
 If it was not quickly attended to, it would expire 
 altogether. 
 
 The light that now came from it was quite insignificant, 
 so that the lantern was again useful. 
 
 Jack stopped at the bottom of the stairs. 
 
 The apparition glided across the kitchen in the direction 
 of the fire. 
 
 Upon reaching this she paused. 
 
 The red light of the fire shone upon her with a strange 
 and weird-like ( ffecfc. 
 
 Once more she turned her face towards Jack and his 
 companion, to make sure their attention was fixed upon 
 her. 
 
 Then, with precisely the same movement, she raised 
 her arm, and pointed down upon the hearth in the same 
 way as she had pointed twice before upstairs. 
 
 She stood in this attitude for a moment, and then faded 
 away like an evening vapour upon the surface of a lake. 
 
 Jack Sheppard uttered an exclamation, and, at the 
 same moment, Edgworth Bess fainted away. 
 
 His attention was thus instantly distracted. 
 
 He had no thought now for anything but his insensible 
 companion. 
 
 He carried her towards the fire, and laid her down at 
 full length upon the floor. 
 
 He had no means at hand for recovering her from her 
 swoon. 
 
 Quick as thought Jack ran to the door, and passed out 
 into the night air. 
 
 He recollected how heavily it had been raining, and he 
 thought he should find water somewhere very close at 
 hand. 
 
 In this expectation he was net disappointed. 
 
 Some kind of stone vase lay just outside the door, and 
 in this a quantity of water had collected. 
 
 The vase was too heavy for him to lift, so Jack took off 
 his hat and dipped it in. 
 
 It was made of felt, and was waterproof! 
 
 In this he carried the water. 
 
 A few drops sprinkled into the face of Edgworth Bess 
 had the effect of restoring her to consciousness. 
 
 As soon as this happy result was attained, Jack raised 
 her up. 
 
 The poor girl passed her hands confusedly over her 
 eyes, as if by that means she could clear her mental 
 vision. 
 
 "I — I have had such a dreadful dream, Jack— such a 
 dreadful dream ! I am 60 glad it is only a dream ! " 
 
 " Are you, dearest ? " 
 
 " Yet no ; I recollect all now. Memory has properly 
 come back to me. It was no dream, Jack — it was no 
 dream ! I remember. It was no dream ; was it ? " 
 
 " I am not quite sure what you allude to." 
 
 " I mean, Jack, it was no dream that we followed that 
 figure upstairs into the room above. That was no dream ; 
 I remember all the circumstances too well." 
 
 "No, it wa3 not a dream," replied Jack, "without we 
 are dreaming now." 
 
 " And we certainly are not." 
 
 "We are not." 
 
 "Oh! would that Blueskiu would return, so that we 
 could leave this dreadful place! Where, oh ! where can 
 he be?" 
 
 " Calm yourself, dear one. You are in a state of dread- 
 ful exciterjnem — calm yourself. Blueskiu has not returned, 
 but I expect him every moment. Perhaps he has had to 
 go a long wav tor provisions." 
 
 " He has been absent a long time." 
 
 "He has, indeed, but we must wait here until his 
 return. He t> Id us not to be surprised if we had to wait 
 Hutii daybreal, ." 
 
 " I know he did." 
 
 "Then, again I say, be calm. You haverealiy nothing 
 to fear. You swooned ; that was all." 
 
 " That form ! Oh ! Jack, what does it all mean ? 
 What do you think of the strange things we have 
 seen ? " 
 
 " Try to be less agitated, and then we will talk together 
 upon this subject, and endeavour to come to a conclu- 
 sion." 
 
 " I am calm now, Jack — I am, indeed. Talk to me — 
 pray talk to me." 
 
 " I will. Do you remember how we heard the sighs, 
 and how we saw the figure of a young girl upon the 
 stairs ? " 
 
 "Oh! yes; I remember every incident connected with 
 it. Jack!" 
 
 "What, dearest?" 
 
 " Can it be possible that there are such things as spirits 
 — apparitions — call them what you will ? " 
 
 " I have always been taught to disbelieve in their 
 existence." 
 
 "And so have I." 
 
 " But numberless well-authenticated cases are on record 
 which go far to prove the contrary; but there are many 
 who disbelieve these narratives." 
 
 " What are we to think of what we have seen ?" 
 
 " There is the mystery. It may be that we are to settle 
 the question beyond all doubt. What we have seen is 
 very strange, and was witnessed by both of us at the same 
 time." 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; and, therefore, it is impossible that we 
 should both have fallen into the same error." 
 
 " Just so. Now, if you were willing, there is some- 
 thing which I should very much like to do." 
 
 " VVhat is it, Jack ? " 
 
 " To investigate this matter thoroughly." 
 
 " In what way ? " 
 
 " I will explain to you." 
 
 " Do so." 
 
 " The behaviour of the figure we saw was very extra- 
 ordinary." 
 
 " It was, indeed." 
 
 " How desirous it seemed to be that we should follow 
 it upstairs, and how pleased it seemed to be when we 
 moved towards the bottom of the staircase." 
 
 " I think there can be no doubt about the desire of the 
 figure." 
 
 " None, I think. And now, what do you make of iv 
 actions ? " 
 
 Bess shuddered. 
 
 "The door," she said. 
 
 "Ah! the door. That is a difficult point. The figure 
 passed through it at pleasure while closed." 
 
 "And that seems to prove the supernatural character of 
 this visitation." 
 
 " At first sight it does, but I should not like to take it 
 for granted that it was so on such grounds alone. The 
 figure certainly passed through the door, and now do you 
 remember what the figure did after we crossed the thres- 
 hold of the room ? " 
 
 " I think I do." 
 
 " You seemed to be in a half-fainting state, and I thought 
 perhaps you might only retain in your mind a confused and 
 imperfect recollection of what took place. The figure 
 glided towards a cupboard at one side of the fireplace. 
 Then, halting a few paces from it, she turned round and 
 looked at us, and then pointed to it with her finger." 
 
 " She did." 
 
 " Then, apparently assured that we had seen her, she 
 glided to a dark corner in which I could just distinguish a 
 mass of something, and she pointed at that too." 
 
 " I remember it." 
 
 " Then we followed her downstairs, and, going to the fire, 
 she repeated the same actions and disappeared." 
 
 " Then, Jack, then I must have fainted." 
 
 "You did, dearest, and I restored you to consciousness 
 as quickly and as well as I was able. Now is there not 
 something very mysterious about the behaviour and actions 
 of this figure, independently of the strangeness of its 
 appearance ? " 
 
 " Very, indeed." 
 
 " I think so. You may depend there was and ip a deep 
 meaning in it all." 
 
 " But what r* " 
 
 " That is iust what I should like to find out."
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 435 
 
 " How ? » 
 
 " I will tell you, and I hope you will not oppose me in 
 any way. First, however, I ought to state my belief that 
 the figure meant by showing us those different places, 
 that we were to explore them." 
 
 " That — that is the interpretation which I put upon it." 
 
 " It is, I fancy, the only interpretation that can be put 
 
 upon it. You will understand what I wish now. It is to 
 
 first of all go to the cupboard upstairs at which the figure 
 
 pointed, and find out what it contains." 
 
 " Oh ! Jack. Who knows what peril and danger there 
 might be in such a course, or what terrible sights might 
 meet your eyes." 
 
 " Never mind that. Or, if you wish it, I will leave you 
 here while I go upstairs alone." 
 
 " No — no. I cannot consent to that." 
 " I thought you would not. There is, then, but ont t-dier 
 alternative, and that is, to ascend with me. I should like 
 you to do so very much. Come!" 
 
 " I will, Jack. I feel timid and apprehensive, but 
 
 curious. I should like to know what there is to be found." 
 
 " And I. If we were to leave this place without making 
 
 the exploration I speak of, it would haunt me to my dying 
 
 day." 
 
 " I will come with you." 
 
 Jack was glad that Edgworth Bess gave her consent. 
 He did not like to do anything to which she was opposed, 
 and he would not have felt at ease in his mind if he left 
 her downstairs while he went above. 
 
 He lost no time now, for fear she should change her 
 mind, and, moreover, he was impatient in the extreme to 
 know what discoveries awaited him. 
 
 He fully anticipated finding something which would 
 amply repay him for his trouble. 
 
 The lantern was still alight, but burning dimly. 
 Hastily, however, he retrimmed the wick and closed the 
 slide. 
 Edgworth Bess trembled excessively. 
 She could not control the tremor of her limbs. 
 Such agitation, under such circumstances, is nothing but 
 natural. 
 
 Jack put his left arm round her waist, and then she 
 experienced a feeling of safety which nothing else could 
 have produced. 
 
 She had great faith in Jack's power to save her from all 
 harm, and it is to this fact that we must account for her 
 consenting to accompany him in his search in the room 
 above. 
 
 There are few, we fancy, who would have behaved with 
 greater coolness, under such circumstances as we have 
 described, than Jack Sheppard. 
 
 He had preserved his coolness throughout the adventure, 
 though he might fairly enough have been pardoned if he 
 had lost it. 
 
 With a clear head and mind he had weighed every 
 event, and arrived at his conclusions by logical deduc- 
 tions. 
 
 His heart, however, now beat at a more rapid rato as 
 he walked towards the foot of the staircase with the lan- 
 tern in his baud. 
 
 The silence of the place now seemed to increase, and 
 every movement they made became painfully audible. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had some difficulty in preserving her 
 composure, but by continual efforts she succeeded in doing 
 so. 
 
 More than once they paused in their ascent and 
 listened, as some faint sound would fall upon their pars. 
 At length the landing was reached. 
 After a moment's hesitation it was crossed. 
 Then they entered the mysterious room, in which some- 
 thing more startling and terrible than Jack even con- 
 ceived awaited them. 
 
 A chill struck to them — seeming to penetrate to their 
 hearts— a3 they crossed the threshold, and through the 
 hole in the roof they could hear the wind whistling mourn- 
 fully. 
 
 Unheeding this, Jack took his course in a direct line 
 across the blackened flooring to the cupboard door, nor 
 did he pause until he stood close before it. 
 
 Then he cast the beams of the lantern more fully upon 
 it. 
 
 What would that cupboard-door disclose when he opened 
 it? 
 His heart beat fast as he asked himself the question. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD DISCOVERS IN THE CUPBOARD THE CON- 
 FESSION OF THOMAS DOLEMAN. 
 
 A closer examination of the cupboard door, by the aid of 
 the lantern, showed Jack that it was shut but not fastened, 
 and that he had nothing more to do than to insert his 
 finders in the crevice, and pull it back upon its hinges. 
 
 The action would bo a simple enough one, but yet Jack 
 hesitated to perform it. 
 
 The probability is, that if he had had some difficulty in 
 unfastening the door— if he had had to use some violence, 
 this feeling would have been wanting. 
 
 It was the consciousness that he had so little to do that 
 made him for a moment draw back. 
 
 Ashamed, however, of his hesitation, and determined to 
 give way to it no longer, he put out his hand and flung 
 open the cupboard. 
 
 No words can portray the eagerness with which both 
 he and his fair companion glanced into the recess which 
 was disclosed. 
 
 To their disappointment and vexation, however, 
 nothing but bare shelves met their gaze. 
 
 What they had expected would be hard indeed to say. 
 Perhaps no very definite idea filled their minds, hut 
 certainly they were not prepared to see nothing. 
 
 Dust had accumulated in Large quantities, and the 
 interior seemed pitchy dark. 
 
 Beyond that there was nothing to be seen. 
 
 Jack Sheppard drew a long breath and stepped back a 
 pace, as he said — 
 
 " What does this mean ? " 
 
 " There is nothing there," said Edgworth Bess; "you 
 see there is nothing there. Cnme away, Jack. We have 
 been played upon in some way and deluded. Come 
 away ! " 
 
 And as she spoke, she strove to draw him away by main 
 force. 
 
 "No— no," he cried. " I cannot, will not believo that 
 all we have seen is mere jugglery— at any rate, not until I 
 have more direct proof than I have at present. Release 
 me. I must look more closely into the cupboard. Its 
 secrets may be hidden." 
 
 Jack released himself from the feeble grasp of his com- 
 panion, and was at the cupboard door in a moment. 
 
 Edgworth Bess kept close behind him. 
 
 He flashed his lantern into the cupboard, and the broad 
 ray of light disclosed its inmost recesses. 
 
 But he could see nothing. 
 
 The walls were bare and broken. 
 
 The shelves had not a single article upon them. 
 
 Suddenly, however, his eye lighted upon a small packet 
 or parcel. 
 
 It was not at all wonderful that it escaped him when he 
 made his first examination. The wonder was rather that 
 he should have seen it at all. 
 
 It lay on tho middle shelf, and was quite close to the 
 edge. 
 
 It was small and fiat, and covered with dust like the 
 shelf upon which it rested, and this it was that made it so 
 difficult to be perceived. 
 
 A corner sticking up attracted Jack's attention. 
 
 He seized it in a moment, and then he saw tho packet 
 was a paper one. 
 
 It looked like a bundle of letters, and was tied round 
 the middle with either a piece of tape or a piece of fine 
 twine. 
 
 Hastily wiping away the accumulated dust. Jack looked 
 more closely at the packet. 
 
 His eye caught some words written on the outside. 
 
 They were very faint, and assimilated so closely with 
 the colour of the paper as to be almost indistinguish. 
 able. 
 
 By the aid of tho powerful light which he threw upon 
 it, Jack was able to decipher the following words — 
 
 " The dying confessions of Thomas Doleman." 
 
 He read them aloud. 
 
 Edgworth Bess read them, too, for she looked over hia 
 shoulder. 
 
 " Here is what wo were to find," said Jack. "Beyond 
 all doubt this is what we were to find. Lot us find out t !.e 
 contents." 
 
 "Not here," said Edgworth Bess. "Not Lero. *ei 
 us go down into tho room below."
 
 436 
 
 ^i,L)£SJLl« : A. fiOMANCB. 
 
 "Agreed," cried Jack. "Take charge of it. I will 
 look once more into the cupboard and assure myself 
 whether that is all which it contains." 
 
 Jack did 60. 
 
 But, though he made the closest search, he could not 
 find anything else. 
 
 Although Jack had given his immediate consent to read 
 downstairs the document he had found, he did not intend 
 to leave the upstairs room just yet. 
 
 There was something more to be found. 
 
 He had noticed the corner to which the figure had 
 directed its footsteps. 
 
 He had seen the dusky mass which lay there, and he 
 resolved to make himself acquainted with its character. 
 
 Without saying a word to his companion, he walked 
 steadily towards it. 
 
 She followed him. 
 
 Impatient to solve this part of the mystery, he projected 
 the light of the lantern before him. 
 
 Not for long was he left iu doubt as to the nature of 
 the dusky mass. 
 
 A shriek of horror, which came from the lips of Edg- 
 worth Bess, told him too plainly that she also had seen 
 it. 
 
 It was the body of a man. 
 
 But so far resolved into the elements of which it was 
 composed, as to retain but few traces of humanity. 
 
 There were some, however, and the most prominent 
 was the skull, which, as is well known, will remain intact 
 when all the rest of the body has perished. 
 
 But here there was a loathsome mass, upon the exterior 
 of which portions of clothing were visible, and it was 
 these which indicated the sex. 
 
 Sickened and disgusted at this unexpected sight, Jack 
 turned away. 
 
 The mysteries of the ruined haunted building were 
 becoming more and more manifest. 
 
 Jack yet had hopes of fathoming the mystery com- 
 pletely, and learning how and why it was the farm and 
 the farm-house were in the condition in which he found 
 it. 
 
 Without speaking a word, however, he led the way to 
 the staircase, which he descended. 
 
 Upon reaching the room below, they found the fire 
 almost out. 
 
 But Jack stirred it, and replaced more fuel upon it, and 
 then sat down to read the confession, which he was most 
 impatient to do. 
 
 So impatient that he forgot to notico the length of time 
 which Blueskin had been absent, or, if he did, he affected 
 not to do so. 
 
 That some strange and startling narrative was about to 
 be unfolded ho could only reasonably expect, after what 
 had taken place. 
 
 Besuming their seats, then, near the fire, Jack untied 
 the bundle of papers. 
 
 There were several letters, but these he allowed to fall 
 fluttering to the ground. 
 
 His attention was concentrated upon the top one in the 
 packet, and which bore the superscription we have already 
 cited. 
 
 It was a large sheet of papei - , and much faded and dis- 
 coloui'ed with age. 
 
 Jack opened it hastily, and saw that it was covered 
 with small fine writing. 
 
 In a hushed voice Jack began reading aloud, while 
 Edgworth Bess looked over his shoulder and listened 
 earnestly, while from time to time she would assist him 
 to make out tho obscurer portions of the document. 
 
 He read as follows — 
 
 " I have crawled to this place — i)ie scene of my monstrous 
 iniquities and crimes — to die. 
 
 " The hand of death, I can feel, is on me. I have but 
 a few hours, perchance, to live. Those few hours I will 
 occupy iu writing a confession. When it is finished, I 
 shall deposit it somewhere where it may be found easily ; 
 and then, at last, justice will be done to her who has 
 suffered so much from my villainy and wickedness. 
 
 " Execrations will, no doubt, be heaped upon my head 
 when the dark transactions of the past are thus laid bare 
 to light, but I have at least the consolation of knowing 
 that I shall not hear them, let them be ever so loudly 
 uttered. 
 
 " That consideration which has caused me to keep silent 
 
 for so long will exist no longer, and now I will do what 
 tardy justice I can. 
 
 " It does not lie either in my power, or in the power of 
 any living man, to bring the dead back to life ; or I would 
 gladly — oh ! how gladly ! — make reparation for my crimes 
 by so doing. 
 
 " That being denied me, however, I must do all I can. 
 
 " Unluckily for me, that all is but little. 
 
 " I can remove the load of infamy which rests upon the 
 fame of one who was really spotless. 
 
 " I can remove it from the breast of the innocent one 
 upoa which it now rests, and place it where it deserves to 
 be. 
 
 " When I have done that, I shall feel that I can die 
 ' more content. 
 
 " There will be many who will recollect when this farm 
 was one of the best kept and most productive in the 
 county ; and when its owner and occupier, Thomas 
 Doleman, was a well-to-do and respected man. 
 
 " But there are few indeed who would recognise him in 
 the miserable wretch who has crawled into this place to 
 die. 
 
 " And yet it is so. 
 
 " I will begin my confessions by relating the principal 
 facts of my life just as they occurred, and without any 
 exaggeration whatever. 
 
 " That they are every one true, I solemnly swear. 
 
 " I do this and say this because many of the facts are 
 already well known, but they are nearly all clouded with 
 misrepresentations, while some are stated which are 
 utterly false and without foundation. 
 
 " Ail doubt and uncertainty will then be removed. 
 
 " To begin. This farm, which has been so long 
 neglected and left to ruin, is mine — mine by inalienable 
 right — I inherited it from my father, whose only son I 
 am. 
 
 " For a long time all went well with me. I was lucky 
 with my crops and farming-stock, and everything seemed 
 to prosper that I took in hand. I bore an excellent 
 character, and was respected by every one for miles and 
 miles round. 
 
 " That was a happy time. 
 
 "As my circumstances were so good, and as I was a 
 young man of five-and-twenty, I received plenty of invita- 
 tions from those who dwelt around me, and I have reason 
 to believe that I should not have been unacceptable to 
 any of their marriageable daughters. 
 
 But I turned my back upon all of them — my affec- 
 tions were already fixed. 
 
 " The object of my devotion was, however, very far 
 beneath me, so far as worldly circumstances are concerned, 
 but she was rich in beauty, and in all those qualities whioh 
 adorn a woman. 
 
 "At the time when I first felt a passion for her she was 
 about eighteen years of age — that period when a woman's 
 personal attractions are in the meridian. 
 
 "This young girl then fulfilled a menial position in 
 my household. 
 
 " But, though her station was now so low, it had not 
 always been so. Her family had been reduced by misfor- 
 tune, and now she was forced to earn her own liveli- 
 hood. 
 
 " So far as birth was concerned, she was quite my 
 equal. 
 
 " I thought of all this at first, and determined, if I 
 could win her affections, to marry her honourably. 
 
 " Would that I had kept to that good resolution, but 
 my evil spirit prompted me to depart from it, and I listened 
 to his suggestions. 
 
 " As I had prospered in all my other undertakings, so 
 did I prosper in this. The young girl, although she was 
 pleased with my advances, recalled to my recollection the 
 difference in the position there was between us. 
 
 " But I need not linger over this part of my story. It 
 can do no good, and I have not the patience to write it. 
 Let it suffice to say that I won her love, and that 1 pro- 
 mised her marriage. 
 
 " At the time I made that promise, I now, after all that 
 has occurred, solemuly declare I was perfectly in earnest, 
 and that my intentions towards her were strictly honour- 
 able. 
 
 " In a little while, however, when I was quito sure I 
 had taken a hold of her affections, as I have already 
 hinted, I listened to the promptings of my evil genius. 
 
 -i- 1 - "' U ' ftAt" -"—..- B»
 
 BLUESKIN : 
 
 ROMANCE. 
 
 437 
 
 " I continued my attentions to her, but no longer in the 
 same honourable spirit. What need was there, I asked. 
 to marry her ? 
 
 " When I onco got to this frame of mind, you w;:l be 
 able to guess the rest. After a long struggle and pro- 
 tracted resistance, I overcame her virtue, though I did 
 not throw off the mask as yet. 
 
 " I still promised her marriage, though I had nut the 
 remotest intention of adhering to that promise. 
 
 " In a word, she became mine, and, at length, she by 
 degrees learned the truth. 
 
 " She learned that I had acted like a villain to her. 
 
 " At first she was frantic, but by degrees the violence of 
 her grief abated. 
 
 " Time passed on, and then a child was born. 
 
 " Her shame could now no longer be concealed, but the 
 birth of her boy seemed to reconcile her to her fate. 
 
 " Things went on thus for four years, and then a cir- 
 cumstance occurred which altered the whole aspect of 
 affairs. 
 
 " Some very wealthy people came down from London 
 to reside in a large house which they had built for their 
 own occupation on a piece of ground which adjoined my 
 farm. 
 
 " I soon became acquainted with them. 
 
 "They had one child, a daughter — a young girl just 
 budding into womanhood. 
 
 " She was, of course, the sole heiress of all their wealth. 
 
 " No sooner did I see her than I fell violently in love 
 with her. 
 
 " She was not only very beautiful, but rich. 
 
 " And I was tired of my victim. 
 
 " At least, I became so as soon as I saw the heiress. 
 
 "As her parents and herself were strangers in the 
 country, they knew nothing of my child and my mistress. 
 
 " It would never do for any knowledge of them to reach 
 their ears. 
 
 " I was convinced if they did there would bo an imme- 
 diate and final end to my suit. 
 
 " The inference from this I thought was clear. 
 
 " Both she and her child must be disposed of. 
 
 " But how ? 
 
 " That was the question that occupied my mind day and 
 night, and to which I vainly sought to frame au answer. 
 
 " My evil spirit soon appeared, however, and put a 
 diabolical scheme into my head, by which 1 could achieve 
 my purpose ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXIII. 
 
 THE CAUSE OF THE DESERTION AND SUPERNATURAL 
 VISITATION OF THE RUINED FARM-H0U9E ARE LAID 
 BEFORE THE READER. 
 
 Jack paused. 
 
 He had read all that was contained on the first piece of 
 paper — closely written as it was. 
 
 He drew a long breath. 
 
 His interest in the strange story he was becoming 
 acquainted with was most intense, and it was with a 
 feverish eagerness that he turned over the other papers 
 in the packet in order to find where the confession was 
 continued. 
 
 The interest felt by Edgworth Bess was by no means 
 less than her companion's, and she was quite as anxious 
 as he was to find the next scrap of paper. 
 
 At length they discovered it, and then Jack resumed 
 reading. 
 
 " The plot which I conceived, and which was elaborated 
 in my mind with fiend-like rapidity, was of such an awful 
 character that I shudder when I describe it. 
 
 " But it can be described in a few words. 
 
 " I determined to murder the child, and contrive to 
 have her accused and convicted of the crime. 
 
 " No sooner had I resolved upon this devilish plot, 
 than I resolved to put it into execution. 
 
 "One night I took opportunity to obtain possession of 
 the child, and, having done so, I murdered it. 
 
 "Yes, that is the word — I murdered it. I destroyed 
 its little innocent life, and so far I, told myself, I had suc- 
 ceeded in my plans, 
 
 " My next step was to get my victim accused of the 
 crime, and in doing this I was also successful. 
 
 " In vain she protested her innocence, and was distiaight 
 
 with grief. She was not believed, but hurried to a cell 
 and there left. 
 
 " I fancy now, in thinking over the past, that she must 
 have either known or suspected the truth; but, if so, not 
 a word did she utter concerning it. 
 
 " On the morning following her incarceration her cell 
 was visited, and then it was discovered that, during the 
 night, she had committed suicide. 
 
 " She was quite dead. 
 
 " I had not anticipated this. I then looked upon it as 
 a stroke of good fortune. I was comfortably rid of mother 
 aud child, and I had nothing more to do than to prosecute 
 my suit with the heiress. 
 
 " I was spared the hazard of a trial, for I had reckoned 
 upon it, and had calculated upon her execution. 
 
 " My blood turns cold in my veins now that I recall the 
 thought of the past, and it seems impossible that I could 
 ever have been guilty wf such deeds in thought or act. 
 
 " But it was so. 
 
 " There was, of course, an inquest upon the bodv of the 
 poor mother. 
 
 " The verdict of the jury was, that she had committed 
 suicide while fully conscious of her actions. 
 
 " The result of such a verdict is, of course, known to 
 all. 
 
 At midnight her poor remains were consigned to a grave 
 rudely dug in the centre of four cross roads. A hedge- 
 stake was driven through her breast, and a stone placed 
 over her face. 
 
 " Then the grave was filled up, and a mound of stones 
 placed over it, so that all might know it was the grave of 
 a suicide. 
 
 " I was a fool to think, as I did, that I should not reap 
 the consequences of my evil deeds. I thought I should 
 have gone on prospering, but I soon awoko to a conscious- 
 ness of my mistake. 
 
 " In vain I strove to banish from my mind all recollec- 
 tion of the murdered mother and her child. 
 
 "By day — by night— every moment, sleeping or waking, 
 their images appeared before me, until earth became 
 hell. 
 
 " The aspect of the farm became hateful to me. There 
 was scarcely a part of it that did not command a view of 
 the desolate spot where she lay buried. 
 
 " Over and over again did I repent what I had done, 
 but, like nearly all repentance, it came too late. 
 
 " Then there came losses, which succeeded each other 
 with bewildering rapidity. 
 
 " The crops failed, and the cattle died off by hundreds 
 in the fields. 
 
 " In a word, ruin came on with tremendous strides, and 
 at length I fairly abandoned the spot where I fully thought 
 I should live and die. 
 
 " I became a wanderer on the face of the earth. 
 
 " I have roamed through many lands, and many years 
 have elapsed since the occurrence of the events I have 
 described, and my crime has never been discovered, nor 
 will it while I live, for the hand of death weighs with 
 increasing heaviness upon me. 
 
 " But do not let any person delude themselves with the 
 idea that, because my crime has been undiscovered, I have 
 escaped punishment ; that would indeed be a deplorable 
 error for any one to fall into. 
 
 " What I have suffered no tongue could possibly tell ; 
 I have known what it is to have the curse of Cain upon 
 me. 
 
 " My punishment could not be greater than it has been. 
 
 " I have felt that it would be a satisfaction and release 
 to have the hangman's cord about my neck. 
 
 " But I have been compelled to live au outcast from roy 
 fellow -creatures, and shunning every look. 
 
 " What I have suffered no human being, save myself, 
 has the least idea. My sufferings are, however, approach- 
 ing a termination. My hour has almost come. I shall 
 sit down in some obscure corner and there wait for death, 
 having first deposited this confession in some place where 
 it will be safe aud yet easily found. 
 
 "No one knows of my return, and therefore how long 
 the farm may be allowed to go to ruin I know nut. The 
 place has got an evil name, and it is believed that I am ;i 
 resident abroad. 
 
 " I have no heirs, and I hope that the old place will 
 never be disturbed, but allowed to crumble aud rot away 
 
 " And this I declare to be my last dying confession.
 
 438 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 "Along with it will be found somo other papers. 
 "There are three letters which I received from my 
 poor victim, and also two different printed accounts, one 
 of whiofi Charges ber with the murder and tho other 
 describes her burial at the four cross-roads. 
 " And all the abovo I solemnly swear to bo the truth. 
 "Thomas Doleman." 
 Jack ceased. 
 
 The confession w a 3 ended. 
 
 II,' allowed the paper to fall into his lap, and ho gazed 
 into the face of Lis com panion for some minutes without 
 speaking a word. 
 
 The narrative, with tho particulars of which they had 
 just become acquainted, was of so awful a character that 
 they did not know how to comment upou it. 
 
 ; Edgw< "ii Bess, she waa quite overcome with 
 rever in all her life had she heard anything so 
 terril 
 " Ul.ii do you think now P " asked Jack, at length. 
 "Of what ?" 
 
 " Of the strange visitation ? " 
 " 1 know not what to think." 
 
 " We cannot consider that figure as a delusion of the 
 i. You see, we were taken to the place whore this 
 confession was deposited; otherwise, wo should never 
 have found it." 
 " No ; and tho awful figure in the corner ? " 
 " Yes ; and that, too. Evidently it was tho body of the 
 man who penned this confession, lie says that ho should 
 lie down in some corner and die." 
 " And he appears to have done so." 
 "He does. There is little doubt about that, I fancy, 
 id one point, however, that yet remains to be cleared 
 up." 
 
 " You mean the hearth whore the figure disappeared." 
 " Yes. There is something to bo seen there, if we only 
 knew where to look. I am convinced of it, because the 
 figure pi inted there just in tho same manner as sho did 
 upstairs." 
 
 Btrange no mention is made of tho hearth in tho 
 ii m \ i u have just read. 
 " it is rather so. I quito expected to hear something 
 
 ding it. There is no mention, however, made. ' 
 " Not the slightest." 
 
 " You v dearest, when you connected the 
 
 le's grave with these ruins; for that the figure we 
 saw was that of the young girl who lies buried there, 1 
 am afraid we shall be forced to admit." 
 
 " It is very terrible. Can it really bo that thcro are 
 
 s spirits ?" 
 " 1 shall always believe so after -what we have witnessed 
 ill. There is one point, however, upon whicl I 
 musl , d that is to ascertain what is beneath 
 
 the la i 
 "Bui mi tin Is." 
 
 " Then I will try what I can do without them." 
 
 , ck kicked tho lire off tho hearth, loaving 
 ue. 
 He had a sword by his side, and, drawing this from its 
 th, ho began to pick away tho earth round the edge 
 
 1 ill.' point of the SWOrd sharp, 
 so that Jack soon had the slone loosened all round ; then, 
 inserting his sword-blade underneath it, ami using it as a 
 eeded in raising it, from its setting. 
 As soon as he could, he got his fingers underneath it, 
 and then, exerting all his strength, ho lifted the stouo up 
 aed it ov< r. 
 Some dark-coloured earth, pressed tightly down, was 
 now disclosed. 
 
 iStiil making use of his sword, Jack turned this over, 
 and dug 'low n to seme depth. 
 
 As SOi n as the ground was loosened, ho would stoop 
 down -1111! lit; the sell out with his hands. 
 
 Presently the point of the sword struck against some 
 
 ince. 
 Upon being exposed to view it was seen to be a bone. 
 
 Gently Jack removed the superincumbent earth, and 
 then il the almost entire skeleton of a child. 
 
 Edgworth Bess turned away with sickening disgust. 
 
 ould Hi bi in- to look upon it. 
 Jack, too, turned ■ 
 
 The mystery of the ruin and desertion of the old farm* 
 houso was no longer a mystery to him. 
 
 He comproheuded tho whole of tho affair from first to 
 last. 
 
 Tho one point which troubled him was tho apparition of 
 the young girl. 
 
 1 1 e did not like to admit the existence of spirits. 
 
 He clung as much as ho could to the disbelief in their 
 existence 
 
 lie would now much liked to have found that the figure 
 he saw was mere flesh and blood, liko himself. 
 
 And now something struck Jack which had before 
 escaped him. 
 
 Ho had seen the skeleton buried beneath the hearth- 
 stone with great distinctness, but his thoughts were so 
 much engrossed that he failed to notice where tho light 
 came from. 
 
 Now, however, he did notico. 
 
 It came down the chimney, which was wide and straight, 
 so that anyone standing underneath it could see tho sky 
 above. 
 
 Tho light that came was daylight. 
 
 As soon as ho saw this, he became suddenly conscious 
 of the length of time which had elapsed since Blueskin 
 had left them. 
 
 IIo had taken no notice of the lapse of time, but now 
 he found the night had passed away, and that the morning 
 had fairly come. 
 
 As soon as he made this discovery, his thoughts under- 
 went a complete change. 
 
 Ho forgot in a moment all those things in which ho had 
 felt so great an interest. 
 
 Everything was absorbed in the uneasiness ho felt 
 respecting Blueskiu's fate. 
 
 Where could ho bo ? 
 
 What could have befallen him ? 
 
 1 le surmised tho worst. 
 
 He had long exceeded the time he had given for them 
 to expect his return. 
 
 Full of uneasiness and alarm, which plainly appeared 
 upon his countenance, and which communicated itself to 
 Edgworth Bess, ho hastened to tho front door of tho 
 ruined farm-houso and flung it open. 
 
 Tho fair and beautiful morning sunlight fell upon all 
 things. 
 
 The new day had really begun. 
 
 Uueasiness now gave place to alarm. 
 
 Something must have happened. 
 
 Jack Sbeppard passed his hands repeatedly and con- 
 fusedly over his forehead. 
 
 What was In' to do now ? 
 
 The forebodings which from the first had found a 
 home in tho breast of Edgworth Bess, were now fully 
 realized. 
 
 She had dreaded the separation, and it seemed to have 
 produced the worst results. 
 
 In what way were they to direct their footsteps, or 
 what course should they adopt for the best? 
 
 Sadly, then, with his arm round tho waist of Edgworth 
 Bess, Jack Shcppard stood at tho door of the lone farm- 
 house, and cast a glanco over tho whole landscape spread 
 out before him. 
 
 No living creature of any kind met his view. 
 
 With respect to Blueskiu's non-return, all was mere 
 conjecture. 
 
 lie had nothing to guide him to a conclusion. 
 
 What had befallen him was bard to say, though he 
 feared ho had in some way got into tho power of Jona- 
 than Wild. 
 
 And this, as the reader knows, was just tho fact. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard had faith iu Blueskin. 
 
 lie had seen him extricate himself from positions of 
 great peril with an adroitness that was really wonderful, 
 and even at tho worst, he told himself, Blueskin could but 
 be a prisoner in the hands of tho thief-taker. 
 
 If so, all was not lost — there wero chances, and many, 
 too, of bis making his escape. 
 
 But the desirableness of ascertaining whether Blueskin 
 was a prisoner or what had precisely befallen him was 
 well before Jack's mind, and bo knew that that point must 
 be solved beforo he decided upon any ulterior course. 
 
 The dillieulties in tho way of this were, however, many 
 and various. 
 
 How was ho to follow in his companion's track I 
 
 I
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 419 
 
 ITow was lie to ascertain in what direction he had gone ? 
 
 Still he did not despair of finding this out. 
 
 In an encouraging voice he spoke to Edgworth Bess, 
 and endeavoured to raise her drooping spirits. 
 
 Then a brief consultation was held as to whether they 
 should remain where they were during the day, or 
 whether they should 6et out upon their discoveries at 
 once. 
 
 Edgworth Bess urged an immediate departure. 
 
 Not only was the farm-house hateful to her, butshe was 
 impatient in the utmost degree to learn what had become 
 of Blueskin, in whose power to protect and aid her she 
 had great faith. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXIV. 
 
 BLUESKIN IS MADE A PRISONER, BUT KFFECTS A DARING 
 ESCAPE PROM HIS eAPTORS. 
 
 No doubt the reader will think it time we took a glance 
 at the proceedings of Blueskin, who we left in 6uch a dire 
 extremity, and accordingly we will turn from Jack Shep- 
 pnrd and Edgworth Bess, and devote a little attention to 
 him. 
 
 It will be recollected that upon their arrival at the 
 Euicide's grave, Jack Sheppard had heard the sounds of 
 approaching horses' feet, and he fancied they were no 
 other than Jonathan "Wild and his gang. 
 
 Acting upon this belief, they had beat a precipitate 
 retreat, and sought shelter in the ruined farm-house, 
 in which they had such strange adventures. 
 
 Jack's supposition was, however, a correct one. 
 
 It was indeed Jonathan Wild and hi3 gang, coming at 
 full speed to that spot, and well for them was it that he 
 did not find them there. 
 
 By his usual means he had ascertained their where- 
 abouts, and got upon their back. 
 
 The rain poured down in torrents. 
 
 The lightning flashed. 
 
 The thunder rolled. 
 
 But Jonathan Wild cared very little for this elemental 
 strife upon this occasion. 
 
 _ His mind was too much occupied with the thoughts of 
 his revenge to heed anything else. 
 
 TheD, as for his men, it was more than their lives were 
 worth to lag behind, and they followed on in anything 
 but an amiable frame of mind. 
 
 Wild, junior, too, accompanied the troop. 
 
 Ho had started of his own free will, but, now the weather 
 had turned out bo adverse, he heartily wished he had 
 stayed at home. 
 
 He remonstrated with the " guv'ner " upon the subject, 
 and desired him to seek a shelter somewhere until the 
 violence of the storm abated. 
 
 But his paternal relative had spoken to him in reply in 
 such a hyeBa-like manner, that George drew back and 
 said not another word. 
 
 If, however, the great Jonathan Wild had chosen to 
 take shelter ju6t where his son wanted him. the aspect of 
 affairs would be rather curious. 
 
 The nearest place of shelter would have been the lone 
 farm-house, beneath the roof of which our three friends 
 at that moment were. 
 
 As it happened, however, they passed by, and so our 
 friends were safe. 
 
 And now there is another thing which illustrates the 
 perplexity and contrariety of human affairs. 
 
 Blueskin sought safety by leaving the cottage to recon- 
 noitre, but, so far from finding what he sought, he only 
 ran into danger. 
 
 If he had only remained in the farm-house, all would 
 have been well. 
 
 Jonathan would have been baffled, for a short time at 
 least. 
 
 Such, however, was not to be. 
 
 Jonathan kept on Lis way, and passed the farm-house 
 when he ought to have entered it. 
 
 Blueskin left it when he ought to have remained. 
 
 '1 he result of ihis is already to some extent known to 
 the reader. 
 _ Jonathan Wild, after searching closely in every direc- 
 tion, at leDgth came down a lane which would bring him 
 into the high-road. 
 
 Just at this spot he paused, and called to his men to 
 
 halt, while he made up his mind in which direction ho 
 should proceed next. 
 
 While considering this point, there came to hi a cars, 
 and to the ears of his son also, who was standing close to 
 him, the sound of a footstep upon the i 
 
 In a general way there was nothing wo iderful in this, 
 but there was on the present occasion. 
 
 The country road was very quiet, the stm-m was over, 
 and there was scarcely a breath of air stii i 
 
 Consequently this footstep could be heard with very 
 great distinctness. 
 
 Jonathan recognised it. 
 
 It is well known that no two persons walk just (like. 
 
 Now, in years past, Jonathan had heard Bfaeekin walk 
 hundreds of times. 
 
 He could always tell, when he sat in his office with the 
 door closed, whether it was Blueskin who approached or 
 not. 
 
 Jonathan had not forgotten the peculiar sound. 
 
 In a faint voice he communicated his suspicions to his 
 son, and bade him keep a sharp look-out, in case it should 
 prove that he was not mistaken. 
 
 Wild, junior, did not say one word, but tool: a pistol 
 from his belt and quietly cocked it. 
 
 Then ho looked with the utmost intentness at the little 
 bit of road which the lane disclosed. 
 
 He made up his mind if Blueskin should make bis ap- 
 pearance, not to have any more trouble with him, but to 
 shoot him down at once. 
 
 But not a word did he say to his father concerning his 
 intentions, because he knew he would never have consented 
 to them. 
 
 Wild, junior, however, was tired of the manner in which 
 his father was carrying out the business, and he deter- 
 mined to act a little upon his own responsibility. 
 
 He had no patience with elaborate systems of revenge. 
 When he had a foe he was satisfied with his <I 
 matter how it was inflicted. 
 
 Blueskin was well known to him. 
 
 If he appeared he should fire. 
 
 Jonathan was too intent keeping watch to notice these 
 movements of his son. 
 
 It wa3 Blueskin who was approaching. 
 
 No sooner did he appear, and almost before If was 
 quite certain who it was, Wild, junior, pmlled the trigger 
 of hi3 pistol, and fired. 
 
 There was a loud report, and, when the smoke had died 
 away, there lay our friend Blueskin at full length upon the 
 roadway. 
 
 We have already related what ensued consequent upon 
 this, and, therefore, there is no reason for us to i 
 here. 
 
 Some brandy from Jonathan's own flask was poured 
 down Blueskiu's throat, and had the effect of almost 
 choking him. 
 
 But he recovered from his swoon, and the brandy having 
 run partly out of his mouth on to the ground, and partly 
 down his throat, he overcame its effects. 
 
 The wound he had received was really a trifling one. 
 although it had produced insensibility. 
 
 The bullet had struck him on the head, and made a long 
 furrow over his scalp. 
 
 In no place, however, was the skull fractured. 
 
 A quarter of an inch lower, however, and the bullet 
 would have buried itself in his brain. 
 
 There was some water in a little otream that ran by (ho 
 roadside, and one of Wild's janizaries filled his hat with 
 the fluid, and poured it over the wounded man's head. 
 
 This had the effect of thoroughly restoring him to con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 Still, at first, Blueskin had but a confused idea 
 had taken place. 
 
 Gradually, however, all came back to him. 
 
 Then the harsh sounds of his enemy's voice let hira 
 know into whose hands he had fallen. 
 
 Summoning all the strength he DC 
 with great suddenness to his feet, before any < 
 men were aware of it. 
 
 With the same swiftness he drew his sword, and com- 
 menced a furious attack upon the bull-dogs who sui i ouDded 
 him. 
 
 How the contest would have terminated is m 
 but before Jonathan could interpose BlucskiD 
 strength fail him. 
 
 i
 
 410 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 His eyes grew dim. 
 
 Clouds of blood seemed to be fioatiug before liim. 
 
 His brain spun round. 
 
 Tben his feet slipped from under him, and he fell half- 
 senseless to the ground. 
 
 While in this state and while in this position, his arms 
 were firmly bound behind hini, so as to prevent the 
 recurrence «'f such an attack. 
 
 " To London with him. Follow me to London I " yelled 
 Jonathan; "and if he escapes your own lives shall pay 
 for it." 
 
 " How shnll we take him?" asked the men. 
 
 " You had better bind him securely," said Wild, after a 
 few seconds' thought. 
 
 " We have done that, sir." 
 
 "Well, then, you can put him on one of the horses, aud 
 some one had better get up before him, and let the two be 
 strapped together round the waist." 
 
 There was no demurring against this order, though, as 
 the reader may be sure, the men were not very well pleased 
 with it. 
 
 Some little hesitation wns expressed as to who the 
 person should be to whom Blueskin should be fastened, 
 and Wild, perceiving some sort of discussion going on, 
 guessed its character, for he said — 
 
 " You will take it in turn for your horses to carry 
 double. You, Howell, will take him first." 
 
 Howell was, of course, obliged to give in. 
 
 He mounted his horse, and then Blueskin, with his 
 hands firmly tied behind him, was lifted up and placed 
 behind him. 
 
 It was perhaps intended as an additional indignity, or 
 perhaps it was for the convenience of securing him to 
 Howell's back. 
 
 Be it how it may, that was the mode adopted. 
 
 Blueskin was not altogether unconscious of what was 
 going on. 
 
 He had a dreamy sort of notion that he was lifted on to a 
 horse's back, but that knowledge seemed to content him, 
 bereft as he was of all power of motion. 
 
 His arms were already secured, and he was attached to 
 Howell by a couple of leather belts, which the man wore in 
 such a manner that it was impossible for him to fall off the 
 horse. 
 
 When all was ready, Jonathan Wild gave the word for 
 the troop to set itself in motion. 
 
 Ho seemed now to have but one idea, and that was, to 
 get to London with his prisoner as fast as possible. 
 
 It is rather wonderful that he should have done this, 
 f'ni- he must have known that Jack Sheppard and Edg- 
 worth Bess was somewhere close at hand. 
 
 It was mostly owing to his son that he did this. 
 
 George Wild was one who liked to be on the sure side, 
 and knew how to be content with a little. 
 
 He was quite satisfied now that he had captured Blue- 
 skin, aud he judged the best course would be to lock him 
 up at once. 
 
 There was a possibility, if they went off chasing the 
 others, that Blueskin would find an opportunity to escape. 
 
 He knew him of old as being a slippery customer. 
 
 There was, then, a good deal of prudence aud safety in 
 the course thus adopted. 
 
 Away, then, they vvent to London— not at a very fast 
 pace, because their cattle were already knocked up, but 
 still they soon got over the ground. 
 
 After going some distance, Jonathan called for a halfr, 
 and then Blueskin was transferred to another hoi'se. 
 
 The jolting he had received had gone a very loug way 
 towards recovering our old friend from his state of insen- 
 sibility. 
 
 Still he attempted no struggle when the men came to 
 lift him off. 
 
 He knew he w T as not strong enough for a struggle to b<» 
 of any advantage to him. 
 
 Accordingly he remained quite passive, making not the 
 least resistance. 
 
 But it must not be inferred from this tbat he had 
 given up all hopes and ideas of making his escape. 
 
 The idea of doing so was topmost in his mind, and he 
 wnr-! only waiting for his opportunity. 
 
 His wrists were handcuffed together. 
 
 But the handcuffs seemed to be large ones, aud Blue- 
 ekiu thought it was just possible that he might slip his 
 hands out of them. 
 
 There were very few though, who would like to make 
 the attempt, for the feat could only be accomplished at 
 the cost of great pain. 
 
 Steadily, however, he set himself to the work. 
 
 He slipped them over his wrists down on to the backs 
 of his hands. 
 
 But he could get them uo further. 
 
 It was in vain ho tugged; he only tore the skin off, 
 and cruised himself the most intolerable pain without 
 doing the least good. 
 
 In despair lie placed his hands together, and then, with 
 an exertion of .strength, lbrced them apart. 
 
 The act was done in mere passion, but he was much 
 surprised and gratified at its results. 
 
 There was a snap. 
 
 1 1 is hands were free. 
 
 The connecting link between the pair of handcuffs had 
 snapped. 
 
 How it was he could scarcely tell ; he did not appear to 
 have put forth any extraordinary amount of strength. 
 
 There might have been, aud probably was, some defect 
 in their manufacture, or they might possibly have beeu 
 tampered with, or weakened, or strained upon some 
 previous occasion. 
 
 But, be that how it may, they broke, and Blueskin had 
 his hands at liberty. 
 
 He was careful, however, to disguise the fact a little 
 while. 
 
 The man behind whom ho rode appeared to hear the 
 snap, or else to feel that Blueskin had moved, for he turned 
 l-ouud suspiciously. 
 
 But Blueskin took no notice, and never moved his hands 
 once. 
 
 He kept still for some little while longer, and theu he 
 felt, if he was to make his escape, or, rather, if he was 
 lo have any reasonable prospect of doing so, now was the 
 time. 
 
 The uight was fast passing away, and already in the 
 eastern horizon could be discerned a faint ray of light, 
 which told of the approaching dawn. 
 
 Gradually Blueskin removed his hands from each 
 other. 
 
 There wns nothing now that confined him but the 
 leather belt around his waist. 
 
 Gently he stole one hand iuto his pocket, aud drew forth 
 a knife, which he passed behind him. 
 
 While in this position he opened it. 
 
 The blade he knew was strong and sharp. 
 
 One vigorous stroke and the belt would be severed, 
 leaving him so far at liberty. 
 
 His task then would be by no means easy, hut he did 
 not look too much at his difficulties aud get cowed by 
 them. 
 
 Holding his knife firmly, then, he placed the edge upon 
 the belt. 
 
 Then he drew it across once. 
 
 The belt was severed. 
 
 The man to whom he was secured uttered a cry. 
 
 But, before he had properly given vent to it, Blueskin 
 had slipped off the horse on to the roadway. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD RECAPTURES BLUESKIN, AND CONVEYS 
 II IM TO LITTLE NEWGATE. 
 
 Bruised and half-stunned, Blueskin reached the ground. 
 
 The two men who were following passed him with a 
 rush, but, fortunately, they did not ride over him. 
 
 With the consciousness before his mind of the para- 
 mount necessity of being quick in his actions, he sprang 
 to his feet. 
 
 But he staggered, and almost fell. 
 
 Recovering himself, however, with a violent effort, he 
 started forwards along the road at a run, taking the route 
 which l.e had just come, aud which would take him away 
 from Jonathan Wild. 
 
 That worthy heard the cry of alarm which came from 
 the lips of his janizary, and, with a notion of what had 
 occurred, he drew rein and turned round. 
 
 The remainder of the troop came to a halt. 
 
 " The prisoner — the pi-isoner ! " they gasped. " He has 
 escaped ! " 
 
 A storm of curses came from the lips of the great thief- 
 taker.
 
 BLUESKIN : A K03IAUCE. 
 
 441 
 
 f^JL. 
 
 [BLUESKIN RETALIATES UPON JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 "After him — after him ! " he yelled. "Ten thousand 
 curses ! After him ! He cannot go far on foot without 
 your overtaking him. After him, I say ! " 
 
 "Easy does it, guv'ner," said Wild, junior. " We shall 
 have him again, never fear ; he can't go far, and we must 
 be quickest." 
 
 Without waiting to hear what his son said, Jonathan 
 Wild struck his spurs savagely into his horse's sides, and 
 galloped back in the direction Blueskin had gone. 
 
 His men opened right and left to allow him a passage 
 through their ranks, but they were.not quite quick enough 
 in getting out of the way, for he rode up agaiust some of 
 them in his blind speed. 
 
 The result of the collision was another volley of curses, 
 euch as seemed always on the tip of Jonathan Wild's 
 tongue in readiness to be uttered. 
 
 This produced a little delay, though not much. 
 
 Still every moment was of importance to Blueskin. 
 
 Hastily the janizaries formed themselves into a kind of 
 troop, and rode after the thief-taker down the lane. 
 
 The wound in Blueskin's head, though not much more 
 than a graze, still was sufficient to produce a very con- 
 fusing sensation about his brain. 
 
 But that was owing to the quantity of blood he had lost. 
 
 It still flowed from the wound, though not very rapidly. 
 
 This was because it had coagulated into a large mass. 
 
 His hair was saturated with the crimson fluid, and it 
 trickled down into his eyes and ears. 
 
 Heedless, however, of this, Blueskin, as soon a« he found 
 himself fairly upon his feet, ran down the lane with all the 
 speed which his enfeebled body rendered capable. 
 
 His course was very devious and uncertain. 
 
 At one time he seemed to be running full tilt at the 
 banks on either side of the road, but he would tnrn aside 
 just before he reached it. 
 
 In this zigzag manner he blundered on. 
 
 He was half-blinded and partially unconscious. 
 
 He knew, however, that he was running away from 
 Jonathan Wild, and that piece of knowledge alone was 
 sufficient to call forth all his energies. 
 
 No. m
 
 44t 
 
 liLUESKIN: A ROUAXCfi. 
 
 And now upon his dull ear there came the mo3t 
 unequivocal sounds of pursuit 
 
 He did not turn round to lo'ok behind hitn to ascertain 
 how far bis pursuers were distaut. 
 
 A fresh accession of strength seemed to be imparted to 
 his failing limbs. 
 
 Louder and louder, however, became tbe sound*, (bus 
 telling him only too plainly that his foes were fast gaining 
 upon him. 
 
 But, animated with tbe power of a hunted creature, he 
 sped along tbe ground with a swiftness that was incredible. 
 
 Tbe rapidity of bis motion, however, caused the wound 
 in his head to break out afresh, and blood in largo quanti- 
 ties began to flow from it. 
 
 This increased his weakness. 
 
 Each time, however, that he staggered, he would utter 
 a cry, and bound forward with renewed fierceness, 
 enraged at these symptoms of failure. 
 
 He ran on for some distance further, and then his 
 Strength suddenly and wholly left him. 
 
 He dropped down in the road as though struck by a 
 bullet in a vital part. 
 
 At this moment Jonathan Wild rodo up. 
 
 He had goaded on bis exhausted horse, and got some 
 distance ahead of his troop. 
 
 He was full of anxiety and dread lest Blueskin should 
 escape. 
 
 As soon as he saw by the faint early light the prostrate 
 figure in the roadway, be reined in his steed with so much 
 suddenness as to almost throw him down. 
 
 The tired creature recovered itself, however. 
 
 Almost before it had fairly stopped, Jonathan sprung 
 from the saddle, and placed bis foot upon Blueskiu's 
 breast, as he would upon tbe head of some venomous 
 reptile. 
 
 Once more bo felt be had him securely in his power, 
 and, as be made this reflection, be assumed a correspond- 
 ing triumphant expression. 
 
 He folded bis arms over hi3 breast, and looked down 
 the road after bis followers. 
 
 They were soon upon the spot. 
 
 " How comes this ? " roared Wild. " How comes this ? 
 Who was riding before the prisoner, and allowed him to 
 get free ? " 
 
 Tbe janizary behind whom Blueskin had been placed 
 shrank back when he heard these words, for he dreaded 
 the worst. 
 
 His companions, however, who severally wished to dis- 
 claim having had any share in it, stood aside, and exposed 
 him fully to tbe view of tbe thief-taker. 
 
 " Ob ! it's you, Bumford, is it ? " cried Wild, as soon as 
 he caught sight of tbe janizary. " How was it tbe pri- 
 soner escaped?" 
 
 " I don't know, if you please, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Bah ! I don't please. You lie ; you do know. He 
 could not have escaped without your connivance and 
 assistance" 
 
 "But be did, Mr. Wild, indeed ho did. I felt him 
 move about a bit, but I thought nothing of that, for I 
 knew ho could not be very comfortable ; and then all at 
 once bo slipped off, and, as soon as he did that, I raised an 
 alarm." 
 
 " And do you think I am going to believe such an un- 
 likely tale as that P " 
 
 " It is the truth, sir." 
 
 " Well, it is lucky I have recaptured him. If he had 
 escaped, your neck would have paid the penalty." 
 
 " Easy, guv'nor ! " cried Wild, junior. " Perhaps what 
 Bumford says is true. Let us see what kind of condition 
 Blueskin is in, and whether it would have beeu possible 
 for him to have slipped off the horse unaided by any but 
 his own exertions. 
 
 "A good thought," said Wild, senior ; and, as he spoke, 
 he removed bis foot from Blueskiu's breast, who began to 
 show sign3 of returning animation. 
 
 Jonathan himself turned our old friend over upon his 
 back. 
 
 TheD, stooping down, be picked up one of his arms, 
 which be saw was at liberty, although they had been 
 handcuffed together. 
 
 And, in fact, the ring of the broken handcuff still 
 encircled Blueskiu's wrist, and when he saw where the 
 flron link had been fractured, Jonathan could not withhold 
 his admiration. 
 
 Then Jonathan looked for the belt by which Blueskin 
 had b^n secured to Bumford. 
 
 It w>.s gone. 
 
 In tbe hands of tbe prostrate man, however, there still 
 remniued the kiufe by which the strong leather bad been 
 severed. 
 
 It now became tolerably clear that what Bumford had 
 said was quite correct. 
 
 Blueskin bad escaped without the assistance of any one 
 but himself. 
 
 And now he was reoaptured. 
 _ Jonathan determined that he should not escape a second 
 time. 
 
 He called for a horse, and, when it was brought to him, 
 he had the saddle removed. 
 
 When this was done, Blueskin was, by his directions, 
 lifted on to tbe bare back of the steed, and, in a Mazeppa- 
 like fashion, secured to it. 
 
 His legs and arms were securely tied to the horse, in 
 such a manner that he could not by any means release 
 himself. 
 
 The man who bad thus been deprived of his steed, was 
 commanded to take it in turns to ride double behind his 
 comrades until they reached town, from which they were 
 still distant. 
 
 Jonathan took hold of the bridle of the horse to which 
 Blueskin was secured, and, mounting his own steed, re- 
 solved to lead him himself. 
 
 He thought, by the adoption of this means, to make 
 sure of the safety of bis prisoner. 
 
 Once more, then, tbe troop was set in motion. 
 
 Jonathan Wild rode first, leading the horse upon which 
 Blueskin was tied. 
 
 His son rodo close behind him. 
 
 The janizaries brought up the rear. 
 
 It was a singular-looking cavalcade. 
 
 Morning had now fairly come, aud different objects 
 could be plainly distinguished, but as yet the hour was 
 too early a one for people to be abroad. 
 
 Very little was said on the journey. 
 
 It is almost needless to say that it was now quite im- 
 possible for Blueskin to make another escape. 
 
 Indeed, for the greater part of his journey, he remained 
 insensible. 
 
 He did recover slightly towards the last, but only 
 slowly. 
 
 The vital principle was very strong in Blueskin. 
 
 He was one not slain easily. 
 
 Upon him wounds seemed to make no more impression 
 than they did upon the great thief-taker himself. 
 
 It was approaching mid-day when London was reached. 
 
 Mauy people stopped to look at the strange procession, 
 and Jonathan soon found that be should have a mob at 
 his heels by tbe time he reached Newgate-street. 
 
 This was certainly what be by no means wished. 
 
 A hackney-coach came lumbering along the Old Kent- 
 road, up which Jonathan was proceeding, and Jonathan 
 bailed it with sensations of tbe greatest pleasure. 
 
 Tbe driver stopped, of course, aud then ho recognised 
 who it was that bad hailed him, for Jonathan Wild was as 
 well known to tbe inhabitants of the city as the monument 
 or London-bridge. 
 
 He was all obseqiousness iustantly. 
 
 Jonathan dismounted, and released Blueskin from his 
 bauds. 
 
 In a state of almost perfect insensibility, he was placed 
 inside the coach. _ ' 
 
 Jonathan got in after him, and by the direction of his 
 father, Wild, junior, entered too. 
 
 The doors were then closed. The driver told to drive 
 straight to Newgate-street. 
 
 Tbe janizaries were to follow the coach as a kind of 
 guard. 
 
 In this manner Jonathan succeeded in reaching bis 
 abode without attracting the amount of attention he 
 certainly would have if be had persevered in his former 
 course. 
 
 Blueskin was placed on that seat in the coach which is 
 nearest the driver, and Jonathan and his hopeful son sat 
 facir»g him. 
 
 Our hero looked about as helpless as any one possibly 
 could. 
 
 He lay at full length upon the seat, and did not betray 
 the slightest signs of life.
 
 BLT7ESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 443 
 
 He was literally covered with blood, which still flowed, 
 though very slowly, from his wound. 
 
 Wild's e.yes gloated over his victim, and his heart filled 
 with pleasure. 
 
 His foe was in his clutches at last, and powerless to 
 raise his arm in his defence. 
 
 It was evident that Wild, junior, took upon himself all 
 the credit of the achievement, and considered that he was 
 the person to whom his father's thanks were due, for as the 
 coach rolled on towards Newgate, he said — 
 
 •* What do you think of it now, guv'uor, eh P " 
 
 "Think of what?" 
 
 Wild, junior, pointed with a significant gesture to the 
 ghastly and bleeding figure of Blueskin. 
 
 Jonathan grinned. 
 
 " I told you which was the best way, guv'nor, and you 
 see I waB quite right. Just think what a desperate fellow 
 he is. I don't wonder at your failing. He would hardly 
 give in at the last." 
 
 " He has a brave spirit." 
 
 " He is a d — d troublesome fellow, if that's what you 
 mean. Why, if it had not been for my little bit of a pop 
 at him, you would never have caught him ! " 
 
 " I don't kuow that," growled the thief-taker, who by 
 no means relished being outgeneralled by his son. 
 
 " But I do, though. Supposing, however, that you had, 
 he would have got clean away when he broke the hand- 
 cuffs and cut the belt, if it had not been for the bodily 
 weakness the effects of my shot occasioned." 
 
 "As it has happened, however, everything has turned 
 out for the best. But, if you had killed him, George, I 
 should never have forgiven you." 
 
 " Fiddle-de-dee." 
 
 " I should not — I could not." 
 
 " Just because you want him hanged P " 
 
 " Perhaps so." 
 
 " Have you some other reason ? " 
 
 " I have." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " 1 do not despair yet of binding him to my purpose." 
 
 George 6hook his head. 
 
 " You don't think there is much chance of that ? " 
 
 " With all due deference to you, guv'uor, I don't." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "He is too determined a character. But you've got 
 him, guv'nor, which you wouldn't if it had not been for me, 
 and now I leave you with him to do just as you liko." 
 
 " You have certainly been instrumental in his capture, 
 George." 
 
 " Well, I should rather think I have, guv'nor. That's 
 d — d cool, blest if it isn't. Instrumental indeed ! " 
 
 " It was at this moment that the hackney-coach stopped 
 opposite the regular prison of Newgate. 
 
 " Not there,' roared Wild, projecting his head from the 
 window. " Round the corner. Stop at my house. Not 
 Newgate-street." 
 
 "All right, your honour." 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN EEVENGES HIMSELF IN A SLIGHT DEGREE 
 UPON JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Once more the crazy vehicle was set iu motion. 
 
 But it required a very vigorous application of whip to 
 make the horses start. 
 
 The distance they had to go, however, was but short, 
 and they quickly turned the corner of the Old Bailey into 
 Newgate-street. 
 
 With a jark they pulled up in front of Jonathan Wild's 
 residence, which adjoined the prison wall. 
 
 t The thief-taker alighted, and was quickly lollowed by 
 his son. 
 
 The janizaries hastily dismounted, and one of them 
 •cnocked loudly at the door. 
 
 It was opened instantly by the man on the lock. 
 
 The people in the street who happened to be passing by 
 stopped to look at what was taking place. 
 
 But a few of Jonathan's hyena-like growls, and questions 
 as to what they wanted, had the effect of dispersing them, 
 so great was the fear in which Jonathan Wild was held. 
 
 Blueskin was partially sensible. 
 
 So much so, that he comprehended what was said to 
 bim when he was told to alight, for ho obeyed with 
 promptitude. 
 
 He was giddy and sick, but he descended from the 
 vehicle, and under a strong escort he was marshalled into 
 the house, and the front door closed. 
 
 The coach drove off, and then not a trace remained to 
 show what had so recently taken place. 
 
 By Wild's direction Blueskin was deposited on a bench 
 in the hall, and Mr. Snoxall was^sent for, aud told to come 
 with all speed. 
 
 Nothing would have vexe'l Jonathan so much as for 
 Blueskin to have died. 
 
 He would have considered he was cheated of his 
 revenge. 
 
 Therefore, as wfc; have said, he did not at once consign 
 him to the cells, but allowed him to wait iu the hall until 
 the arrival of the apothecary. 
 
 Very death-like indeed did Blueskin look, as with half, 
 glazed eyes he looked vacantly about him. 
 
 Jonathan paced up and down the hall, scarcely remov- 
 ing his eyes from him for an instant. 
 
 He was thinking over his plans, and determining what 
 course of action he should pursue with regard to Blue- 
 skin. 
 
 Through his politic brain flitted all manner of schemes, 
 but none of which suited him exact! j'. 
 
 In the midst of his ruminations Mr. Snoxall arrived, 
 for the apothecary was at home, and his shop was not two 
 minutes' walk from Wild's house. 
 
 He started when ho perceived what a spectacle Blue- 
 skin presented, and then gravely shook his head. 
 
 Jonathan touched him on the shoulder. 
 
 " Heal him. Make bim well in a couple of days, and 
 you shall have ten pounds for your trouble." 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " You will find it true." 
 
 " I don't mean with respect to the money, Mr. Wild ; 
 I know that's all right. You always behave very liberally 
 to me." 
 
 " Very well. Do what I told you, aud you won't have 
 cause to change vour opinion. If you fail, why, then" — 
 
 " What, Mr. Wild ? " 
 
 " It will be the worse for you." 
 
 " I will try my best, Mr. Wild, and nobody can do mora 
 than that." 
 
 " I know — I know. But when a man tries his best ho 
 succeeds." 
 
 " But, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " My patient is at the brink of the grave, and yot you 
 give me only two days to restore him to health." 
 
 "You don't know him. He will soon show the effects 
 of your treatment; he is not one of a dying sort." 
 
 Mr. Snoxall again shook his head. 
 
 He said nothing more, because he knew its futility by 
 experience. 
 
 Gravely shaking his head, he called for several articles, 
 which were supplied him. 
 
 They were water, vinegar, a sponge, and linen for 
 bandages. 
 
 Soaking the sponge in the water, he carefully bathed 
 Blueskin's head, and soon discovered the extent of the 
 wound. 
 
 He found it to be a very trifling one, although it had 
 bled profusely; and he began to have hopes that, if his 
 patient was really possessed of a sound constitution, he 
 should be able to do what Jonathan required of him. 
 
 There were some symptoms of inflammation, but not 
 very serious ones. 
 
 He continued to bathe, and, with a pair of scissors he 
 took from his pocket, cat away the hair. 
 
 All this time Blueskin sat quite still ou the bench upon 
 which he had been placed. 
 
 He knew what was being done, but beyond a dim and 
 vague idea of this, he knew nothing. 
 
 He was in a state resembling that which i3 known a 3 
 being between sleeping and waking. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall now poured the vinegar on the sponge, 
 which was already partially saturated with water, and with 
 this he began to bathe the gaping wound. 
 
 But the moment the keen acid came in contact with the 
 nerves in Blueskin's head which the bullet had left bare, 
 a result, ensued which rather startled all present. 
 No one was prepared for it. 
 
 We say the contact of the sponge soaked in vinegar with 
 the wound in Blueskin's head produced a startling result.
 
 444 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Uttering a yell so awful that it was quite sufficient to 
 dismay auy oue, he sprang to bis feet like one who is 
 suddenly galvanized. 
 
 His consciousness was restored to him, but ho was mad- 
 dened to such an extent that he did not know what he was 
 about. 
 
 As he sprang up he overturned Mr. Snoxall, who fell 
 sprawling on the ground. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had been pacing up and down, but the 
 awful yell which came from Blueskin's lips had the effect 
 of arresting his footsteps and confusing his faculties a 
 little. 
 
 Before he could recover himself in the remotest degree, 
 Blueskin made one tremendous bound and stood before 
 him. 
 
 With the swiftness of lightning Blueskin raised his 
 arm, and before his old foe could be aware of his intention, 
 he struck him a tremendous blow on the sicta of his head 
 with his clenched fist. 
 
 The blow was well delivered. 
 
 There was a sharp sound, and then Jonathan Wild 
 measured his full length upon the floor of the passage. 
 
 Blueskin would have thrown himself upon him and 
 continued his assault — with what result it would be hard 
 to say ; but the janizaries, who had by this time recovered 
 from the first shock of their astonishment, darted forward 
 and seized him. 
 
 When they did so, they found him as strengthless as a 
 child. 
 
 The fictitious vigour which the vinegar had produced 
 Tauished with as much suddenness as it it had been called 
 into existence. 
 
 Finding this to be the case, they simply laid him on the 
 bench from which he had risen. 
 
 They then devoted their attention to their master. 
 
 He lay on the floor of the passage, just where he had 
 fallen, without exhibiting the least signs of animation or 
 returning sensibility. 
 
 George Wild, who had gone into one of the rooms on 
 the ground floor, hearing the uproar, emerged. 
 
 All the surprise he felt was expressed upon his counte- 
 nance. 
 
 He looked at the prostrate form of his delightful father 
 lying close to his feet. 
 
 Then his eyes wandered to Blueskin, who, looking 
 more lifeless than ever, was extended upon the hall 
 bench. 
 
 Then upon Mr. Snoxall, who was struggling to his feet. 
 
 Finally his eyes reposed where they had first rested — 
 upon the body of the thief-taker. 
 
 This done, he gave vent to a characteristic exclamation. 
 
 " Well, I'll be d-d ! " 
 
 Beyond this he did not trouble himself; but, putting 
 his hands in his pockets, he leaned up against the door- 
 post, contented to watch the progress of affairs, which 
 seemed to promise to be very entertaining. 
 
 The janizaries raised Jonathan Wild's head a little, and 
 then they saw that he was rapidly recovering from the 
 injuries he had received. 
 
 The bull-dogs, therefore, took good care to put them- 
 selves on their guard against any sudden attack which he 
 might make upon them while only in partial possession of 
 his senses. 
 
 And this caution was really requisite. 
 
 A howl came from his lips that would have done credit 
 to the most ferocious and blood-thirsty animal ever 
 created. 
 
 Then, with a bound, he stood upon his feet. 
 
 His men withdrew to a safe distance. 
 
 Jonathan glared around him. 
 
 Blinded with rage and passion as he was, he did not 
 know what he was about. 
 
 The first person upon whom his eye lighted was the 
 unfortunate Mr. Snoxall, who was coming towards him. 
 
 Impressed with the idea that this must be his antago- 
 nist, Wild rushed at him, and with one blow laid him 
 prostrate, to the infinite enjoyment of his son, who could 
 not forbear laughing aloud. 
 
 That laugh seemed to sober Wild's senses, if we may 
 be allowed such a remark, and ho looked more calmly 
 around him. 
 
 A full recollection of what had taken place now dawned 
 upon his mind, and, with his heart almost bursting with 
 anger, he looked round for Blueskin. 
 
 Had our friend been at all conscious, it is probable that 
 the thief-taker would have sacrified him on the spot, at the 
 expenso of his more elaborate plan of revenge. 
 
 But when he saw the inanimate form lyiug on the 
 bench, and presenting every appearance of death, his 
 whole thoughts changed, and he became anxious once 
 more that he should be restored to life. 
 
 Mr. Suoxall was more frightened than hurt by the blow 
 he had received, and he now sat up, rubbing his head in a 
 very lugubrious manner indeed. 
 
 ' Get up ! " roared Jonathan, with such tremendous 
 lungs that the apothecary was on his feet in a moment. 
 " Get up, and attend to your patient." 
 
 Mr. Suoxall did not speak. He knew Jonathan Wild 
 too well to think of saying one word. 
 
 He busied himself with attending to Blueskin, whoso 
 condition now looked more desperate than ever. 
 
 Jonathan resumed his moody walk up and down the 
 hall. 
 
 Ho saw his son leaning against the doorpost, with his 
 features distorted with a derisive grin, and he frowned 
 angrily. 
 
 Of this manifestation of displeasure, Wild, junior, took 
 not the slightest notice, except to say — 
 
 " Why, guv'nor, what the devil are you about ? Who 
 knocked you down, eh ? Well, curse me, if you ain't a 
 rum 'un ! " 
 
 Jonathan made no reply, but his brow contracted into 
 a yet blacker frown. 
 
 Finding that he could not irritate his father into 
 making some reply or other, Wild, junior, once more with- 
 drew. 
 
 As he paced up and down, Jonathan took care not to 
 remove his gaze for a single moment from the countenance 
 of Blueskin. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall's attempts at revivication seemed on the 
 present occasion to be vain ones, but, at length, he had 
 the satisfaction of seeing his patient open his eyes and 
 gaze languidly about him. 
 
 Jonathan Wild saw this, and ceased his monstrous 
 pacing up and down. 
 
 He came and stood before him. 
 
 Blueskin's eyes soon lighted upon the countenance of 
 his ancient foe. 
 
 They sparkled and burned with fresh lustre. 
 
 He made one effort to rise, but it was a vain one. 
 
 He could not have been kept down more effectually if a 
 mountain had been placed upon his breast. 
 
 And yet, when he made the effort, he thought it one 
 sufficient to lift even a mountain, and he was surprised to 
 find that he did not raise himself the thousandth part of 
 an iuch. 
 
 " The patient is very weak and bad, Mr. Wild," said 
 the apothecary ; " and all this excitement will have the 
 worst effect upon him." 
 
 " What is to be done ? " 
 
 " He must be kept quiet." 
 
 "Is his life in danger ? " 
 
 " Great danger." 
 
 "But he must not die ! He must live! I say he must 
 live ! " roared Jonathan. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall bowed. 
 
 " I will try my best. But it is a bad case— a very bad 
 case." 
 
 " If he dies," muttered Wild, significantly, " it will be 
 the worse for you." 
 
 " Then I must have him left entirely under my own 
 control." 
 
 " So you may." 
 
 "Very well. I must have a quiet room, to which no 
 one is to be allowed access but those I think proper to 
 allow." 
 
 Jonathan hesitated. 
 
 He scarcely liked the idea of trusting to Blueskin being 
 confined in a room. 
 
 " You need not fear his making his escape," said Mr. 
 Snoxall, who appeared to read what was passing in his 
 mind ; " he is quite unable to lift a finger, aud I will give 
 you timely notice of his returning strength." 
 
 " Be it so, then," said Wild. " I have a room at the top 
 of the house which I fancy is tolerably secure, and thither 
 I will have him carried." 
 
 "That is the only chance he has, Mr. Wild. I must 
 insist on perfect rest and quiet."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 445 
 
 " Enough ; you shall have them. I would not have 
 him die for — for the world. He will he valuable to me 
 for some time yefc. When he ceases to he so, he can die, 
 and welcome." 
 
 Mr. Snoxall felt a disagreeable shudder pass over his 
 flesh as Jonathan uttered these words. 
 
 Somehow he thought they were suggestive of himself. 
 
 What would be his fate when he ceased to bo of any 
 service to the thief-taker ? 
 
 This was a thought of too unpleasant a character to be 
 lon<* dwelt upon, so he banished it from his mind. 
 
 Under his directions Blueskin was gently lifted up, and 
 carried with all care upstairs to the room which Wild 
 designed for his reception. 
 
 There was a miserable pallet in this chamber, and on 
 this Blueskin was laid, and left to the skill of Mr. Snoxall. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXVIL 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MAKES A STARTLING rRWOSHlOM TO 
 BLUESKIN. 
 
 We should not be doing the apothecary credit if we did 
 not candidly avow that he possessed very great surgical 
 skill, and that in the treatment of wounds he was second 
 to none, having succeeded in cases when any one would 
 have stated recovery to be impossible. 
 
 We need not look further for an instance than to the 
 unfortunate Steggs, of whom we have for a length of 
 time lost sight. 
 
 The reason of this is twofold. 
 
 Firstly, attention has been required to events of the 
 utmost importance ; and secondly, Steggs was not nor 
 had not been in a condition to appear upon the scene of 
 action. 
 
 The wound which Jack Sheppard so thoughtlessly and 
 hastily inflicted upon him as he was about to warn them 
 of the approach of Jonathan Wild, was as near being a 
 mortal one as any wound could possibly be which did not 
 actually result in death. 
 
 He seemed beyond all hope of recovery, but he was 
 placed by Jonathan Wild in the care of Mr. Snoxall, who 
 did not despair of effecting his recovery. 
 
 The reader will be at no loss to divine the motives which 
 prompted the thief-taker to be so solicitous about the 
 preservation of Steggs's life. 
 
 His acute mind enabled him to penetrate far beneath 
 the surface of men's actions, and he judged that, if he 
 should recover, he should learn some very important par- 
 ticulars respecting Edgworth Bess. 
 
 That he was in the confidence of her and Jack Sheppard 
 he felt almost convinced. 
 
 At any rate, he wished him to live, even if it was on 
 that mere chance. 
 
 But there was another reason, which we cannot at 
 piesent communicate to the reader. 
 
 Wo will return to Blueskin, whose position is at once 
 sufficiently desperate and critical as to demand all our 
 attention. 
 
 The various excitements and exertions he had under- 
 gone since he had received the wound were quite sufficient 
 to change its character. 
 
 We said at first it was but a trifling one, and such was 
 really the case. 
 
 Now, however, the case was different. 
 
 His system had been almost drained of blood. 
 
 This would produce fever and its train of concomitant 
 evils, and heighten the inflammation which was already 
 yisible about the wound. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall, however, on the present occasion put forth 
 all his skill, and the result was gratifying to no ordinary 
 degree. 
 
 Some portion of the result must, however, he attri- 
 buted to Blueskin' s uncommon vigour of constitution. 
 
 We have lately had some notable examples of it. 
 
 "Under the care of the apothecary, then, he mended 
 rapidly, and by the time the second day arrived he was 
 able to move slightly. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall earnestly exhorted him to remain still, 
 assuring him that, if he did so, his recovery would be pro- 
 portiouably rapid, and adding, further, that his state was 
 then precarious in the extreme. 
 
 Blueskin had the good sense not only to listen to all 
 this, but to attend to it. 
 
 In a word, he obeyed Mr. Snoxall's instructions in 
 every particular. 
 
 It was some time, though, before he could distinctly 
 call to mind what had happened to him, but at length the 
 transactions of the past came clearly before his mental 
 vision. 
 
 His present situation did not give him so much uneasi- 
 ness as one might have expected. 
 
 It was chiefly on account of Jack Sheppard and Edg- 
 worth Bess that he felt anxious. 
 
 He knew how they would expect him, and how alarmed 
 they would be when they found he did not return. 
 
 He dreaded, too, that this very alarm would be the 
 means of bringing them into additional danger, and that 
 they might fall into the hands of the thief-taker. 
 
 But he ascertained from Mr. Snoxall, who was afraid to 
 cross him in any way, that Mr. Wild had not brought in 
 any fresh prisoners. 
 
 Finding himself wounded and helpless, and learning 
 also that the thief-taker ardently desired his recovery, he 
 resolved, very wisely, to remain where he was until he 
 had thoroughly recovered his strength. 
 
 Then, and not till then, ho considered would be the 
 time for action. 
 
 The many solitary hours he passed, he spent in think- 
 ing over his condition, and the prospect which he had 
 before him. 
 
 On the third day he felt wonderfully better, but as far 
 as possible he concealed his rapid improvement from 
 Jonathan Wild, who came perpetually to see that he was 
 safe. 
 
 Blueskin feared that, as soon as he was well, ho would 
 be transferred from his present quarters to one of the 
 cells, from which place he would have all the more diffi- 
 culty in making his escape. 
 
 Still Jonathan could see he was approaching conva- 
 lescence, and he looked with increasing distrust upon the 
 chamber in which he was confined. 
 
 He had it closely watched, however ; and in this way 
 tolerably well made up for its want of strength. 
 
 Blueskin now began to revolve in his mind various plans 
 of making his escape, so that he could decide upon the 
 one which promised best. 
 
 He must not delay the attempt too long. 
 
 What were Jonathan's ultimate intentions he had no 
 very clear idea. 
 
 They boded no good to him he felt certain, for the thief- 
 taker was the last man on earth to overlook what had 
 passed. 
 
 The room in which he lay was, as we have previously 
 stated, at the top of the house, it being, in point of fact, 
 neither more nor less than a garret. 
 
 Blueskin knew this, not only by the general appearauce 
 of the room, with which he was perfectly familiar, but by 
 the shape of the ceiling of it. 
 
 It was a strong room, though. 
 
 Tho window was strongly barred both within and with- 
 out, and seemed to defy all attempts at removal. 
 
 Then the door was of massive oak, and strongly secured 
 with every variety of fastening in existence, several of 
 which had been added during his stay there. 
 
 It was only while he was wounded and weak that he 
 was considered safe in this place. 
 
 Had he been only slightly hurt, he would have been 
 chained in sue of the strongest dungeons beneath the 
 house. 
 
 Not for long, however, was Blueskin allowed to think 
 over the various means of making his escape, for Jona- 
 than as usual came into the room. 
 
 This was on the third day. 
 
 There was little to be gleaned from the ferocious coun- 
 tenance of the thief-taker, though Blueskin looked eagerly 
 at it while pretending not to do so. 
 
 He looked much the same as he always looked. 
 
 Ho approached the bed upon which his prisoner lay, 
 and for a few moments regarded him in silence. 
 
 Then he spoke. 
 
 " Blueskin," he said. 
 
 That was all. 
 
 Our friend took no notice, except to turn his face away. 
 
 " Blueskin," said Wild again, " you are better now, and 
 quite well enough, Mr. Snoxall tells me, to listen to what 
 1 have to say to you. I want to come to an understand, 
 ing with each other."
 
 446 
 
 BU7ESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Still Blueskin took no notice. 
 
 lie never moved nor spoke. 
 
 But Jonathan's voice bo changed the next word he 
 spoke, that ho feared if he did not respond in some way, 
 he should be laying himself open to the ill-usage of the 
 thief-taker when ho was so weak as not to be ablo to 
 defend himself from him. 
 
 Turning over, then, upon his side, he looked Wild in the 
 tace, and said— 
 
 " What do you want with me ? " 
 
 "A little talk," replied Jonathan, with a calmness that 
 had the immediate effect of putting Blueskin upon his 
 guard. 
 
 He knew from experience that tho thief-taker was most 
 to be dreaded in his calmest moments.^ 
 
 That he had some deep-laid echome in his bead of which 
 this was only the preliminary, ho was certain, and with an 
 amount of curiosity which he vainly endeavoured to repress, 
 he prepared to listen. 
 
 " I am here, Jonathan Wild," he said, " and, thanks to 
 you, in such a condition of weakness and exhaustion, that 
 I cannot oppose you in any way. Say on ; I am prepared 
 to listen." 
 
 " I am glad to hear it, Blueskin, and I hope you will 
 
 {five attention to what I am about to say to you. It is a 
 ong time since we had anything to say to each other, but 
 never mind the past. Are you listening ? " 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Very well. In the first place, there are a few circum- 
 stances to which I should much like to direct your atten- 
 tion." 
 
 '•' Go on." 
 
 " I would recall the past— I moan things which hap- 
 pened a very long time ago — not those which have lately 
 taken place. Do you recollect what a many years we were 
 friends, and the circumstances under which our friendship 
 commenced ? " 
 
 " 1 recollect perfectly." 
 
 " Very good. That will save me the trouble of repeat- 
 ing it. We were very intimate friends. I made you 
 second to myself, and took you into my confidence upon 
 every subject, and all went well. Am I right ? " 
 
 " Quite." 
 
 " All went on smoothly, then, until an unfortunate day 
 both for yon and for me you introduced that young fiend in 
 human shape, Jack Sheppard. Curses on him ! From 
 that time all has gone wrong. Our friendship and partner- 
 ship came to an end. And there has been nothing but 
 danger and distrust to both of us ever since, without 
 either reaping the slightest profit." 
 
 " I am hstening," said Blueskin, perceiving that Wild 
 paused. 
 
 " I will take your silence, then, as an acquiescence in 
 the truth of what I have just stated. From that unlucky 
 day all has gone wrong, and from friends we became 
 changed into deadly foes. _ I have often thought of this, 
 and wished it were otherwise, and ever since then have I 
 felt the want of some trustworthy and confidential person 
 upon whom I could rely. Let me get to the end of this 
 long preface and come to the point. I will tell you what 
 I am willing to do, provided you are willing likewise. I 
 am willing to overlook all tho differences that have latterly 
 occurred between us, and reinstate you in your former 
 position. What do you say to my offer ? " 
 
 " I reject it." 
 
 " Pho— pho! You have not had long enough to 
 reflect." 
 
 " I have." 
 
 Wild frowned. 
 
 "What is the reason?" be asked. "Why do you 
 refuse my offer ? " 
 
 " Because I know there will be such conditions attached 
 to it as to make my acceptance impossible." 
 
 " If that is all you fear, dismiss the thought from your 
 mind. The conditions I require you to accede to are so 
 simple that I am quite sure you will not hesitate." * 
 
 " What are they ? " 
 
 " Before I mention them I will make a slight addition 
 to my offer. I have promised you shall be restored to 
 your former situation, which is now indifferently-well filled 
 by Quilt Arnold. In addition to this, you shall receive a 
 thousand pounds, and nine thousand pounds more when 
 Bomo little ser rices are performed which you can easily 
 "yflpnte." 
 
 It is probable that Jonathan Wild calculated upon 
 dazzling tho imagination of Blueskin by the offer of so 
 large a sum, but, if 6uch was his intention, he failed sig 
 nally. 
 
 Our friend knew him too well to place the least reliance 
 upon his words. 
 
 Observing that he remained silent, Wild continued— 
 
 " What do you think of my offer ? " 
 
 " I should like to hear the conditions." 
 
 " They are these. You must place in my power Jack 
 Sheppard and Edgworth Bess." 
 
 " Is that all ? " 
 
 " It is all. And you coneent ? " 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I say, never. Jonathan Wild, I have beard you to the 
 end for two reasons. One is because I lay here unable to 
 move, and the other because I felt a curiosity to know 
 what your proposal really was. I have heard it, and, I 
 now repeat, that never again can we assume the same 
 relative positions as we have done. We have been foes — 
 are foes still — and foes we must continue. You would bo 
 unable to trust me — I should be doubtful of you." 
 
 " Then it would be without a cause," said Wild, with 
 hypocritical sincerity. You would have no cause to doubt 
 me while you yourself remained faithful. Reconsider your 
 decision, and weigh well my proposition. I am anxious 
 that you should do so, and do not hesitate to confess it, 
 because, in the event of your giving your consent and 
 joining your fortunes to mine, it will make things much 
 better for both of us. Therefore, I say again, reflect 
 before you decide." 
 
 " I have reflected, Jonathan Wild, and I have decided, 
 and no additional amount of reflection would have the 
 effect of causing me to alter my mind. We must continue 
 foes." 
 
 An angry look came across Wild's face as Blueskin thus 
 spoke with so much calmness and determination, and 
 there was a baleful sparkle in his eyes as be said— 
 
 " I will press the matter no further now. I will leave 
 you, and you can occupy the interval with thinking over 
 what I have said. As yet I have presented but one side 
 of the case, the other will do on the next occasion. Once 
 more, I say, reflect, and reconsider your rash decision." 
 
 Blueskin made no reply to this speech, but languidly 
 turned over on his bed ; and Jonathan W'^d, imagining, 
 doubtless, that ho bad achieved sufficient at a first inter- 
 view, turned on his heel and left the room, carefully 
 securing the door after him. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MEDITATES THE EXECUTION OF FKESU 
 AND IMPORTANT SCHEMES. 
 
 By this time the reader, if he happens to bo possessed of 
 any penetration whatever, must have obtained a tolerably 
 good insight into the character of Jonathan Wild. *-» 
 
 He will, therefore, doubtless be able to place a proper 
 value and estimate upon the offer he had just made to 
 Blueskin, and wbioh, it must be admitted, was of rather a 
 dazzling character. 
 
 . Not for one moment did Jonathan Wild expect he 
 should succeed in achieving his purpose on the first occa- 
 sion. 
 
 He wished chiefly to give Blueskin's thoughts an im- 
 pulse in that direction, so that, in tho quiet of his cham- 
 ber, be should be ablo to meditate upon the advantages ho 
 holdout to him. 
 
 And then the thief-taker was provided with stronger 
 arguments than mere persuasion. 
 
 But these be should not at present resort to, but avail 
 himself of them from time to time, as occasion might 
 require. 
 
 Slowly, then, he descended tho stairs, until he reached 
 his own parlour on the first floor, which he entered. 
 
 With a sigh of relief he saw that it was empty. 
 
 He half-dreaded to find his son there. 
 
 Somehow or other, Jonathan did not like his hopeful 
 son. 
 
 His manners and his speech jarred upon him. 
 
 But dismissing as well as he could all recollection of him, 
 tho thief-taker seated himself at the fireside, and began t* 
 smoke. 
 
 From time to time he moistened his lips with brandy.
 
 BIUE3KIN A ROMANCE. 
 
 447 
 
 It could easily be seen that Jonathan Wild was in deep 
 thought, though upon what dark project his mind was 
 engaged it would be impossible to tell. 
 
 He was revolving a scheme in his mind, and now and 
 then he would give vent to half-uttered exclamations. 
 
 But they carried no meaning with them. 
 
 His actions will shortly make the reader acquainted with 
 the subject of his thoughts. 
 
 For some hours he thus sat and meditated, during which 
 time his privacy was not once intruded upon. 
 
 When he sat down it was just beginning to grow dusk, 
 but now darkness had completely descended upon the earth. 
 
 There was no light in the room save that which the fire 
 afforded, and this was blazing bonnily. 
 _ The flames were stimulated now and then by being poked 
 vigorously by Wild. 
 
 A strong, ruddy light was diffused over the apartment, 
 and by the aid of this illumination Jonathan eat and 
 thought. 
 
 The fire crackled. 
 
 It was the only thing iu the room which had a cheerful 
 appearanco. 
 
 Dark thoughts wero flitting through the mind of the 
 groat thief-taker. 
 
 The scowl upon his brow and the compression of his lips 
 betokened this. 
 
 " It must be so," he said at length, rising from his seat. 
 " It must bo so, and to possess that knowledge I am deter- 
 mined." 
 
 As the thief-taker spoke, there came with great plain- 
 noss to his ears the chiming of a church clock. 
 
 Involuntarily he listened and counted the strokes. 
 
 It was the clock in the belfry of St. Sepulchre's church 
 on the opposite side of the way striking the hour of mid- 
 night. 
 
 Slowly the solemn sounds died away. 
 
 " So late ! " muttered Jonathan, who, deeply occupied 
 with thought as he had been, had forgotten to note the 
 flight of time. " No matter, this hour is as suitable as 
 any other." 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan went to a cupboard by tho side of 
 the fireplace, and opening it, he rummaged for some tiino 
 among the miscellaneous contents at the bottom of it. 
 
 At length he found what he sought. 
 
 It seemed like a stick about fourteen inches in length. 
 
 Its true charaoter, however, became apparent when he 
 thrust one end of it between the bars of the prate and 
 ignited it. 
 
 It was a flambeau, or torch. 
 
 At first it spluttered a great doal, but it soon uarst out 
 into a steady tiamo. 
 
 A brace of large holster pistols lay on the table, and 
 these Jonathan crammed into his coat pocket. 
 
 Then he poured out another bumper of brandy, and, 
 having drank this off, he prepared to leave the apartment. 
 
 The house was profoundly silent. 
 
 Probably there were only two janizaries awake — the one 
 who was on the lock at the front door, and the other who 
 kept guard at tho grating. 
 
 Slowly Jonathan Wild descended the stairs. 
 
 Tbe light of the torch sent a red and nnsteady glare 
 around. 
 
 It fell on the face of the man at the grating, and awakened 
 him. 
 
 Wild gave a suspicious look round as soon as ho reached 
 the bottom of the staircase. 
 
 But, finding all looking just as he considered it ought 
 to look, he turned round, and walked towards the grating. 
 
 He made an imperative and hasty sign to the man who 
 sat there. 
 
 He instantly responded to it by springing to his feet, 
 and inserting the ponderous key in tho well-oiled lock. 
 
 There was a sharp click, and then tho iron door swung 
 open. 
 
 Tbe flight of stairs leading to the cells, which must be 
 bo familiar to tho reader, was then disclosed. 
 
 Down these he went with his usual deliberation. 
 
 As he went, he still kept muttering disjointed sentences, 
 which carried no meaning with them. 
 
 He passed by the cell doors, and some of thoso gloomy 
 recesses must have contained inmates who, aroused by 
 the unusual glare of light, or else by the heavy footstep 
 of the thief-taker, gave vent to loud shrieks and supplica- 
 tions for release. 
 
 Some cried for food, and others for water. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, however, stalked on, apparently without 
 taking any notice, but he drank in every sound with a feel- 
 ing nearly akin to delight. 
 
 At length he paused before one of the cell doors, and, 
 after a moment's consideration as to whether it was the 
 right one, he produced a master-key from his pocket, and, 
 inserting it in the lock, flung the door open. 
 
 It creaked dismally upon its hinges, and, when that 
 dreary sound had died away, it was succeeded by the 
 rattling of chains and the rustling of straw. 
 
 Jonathan held the torch as high above his head as he 
 could, in order to diffuse its rays as much as possible. 
 
 But it no longer burned with the steady radiance it had 
 done hitherto. 
 
 Now it gleamed with a sickly lustre, for the foul air 
 which poured out of the dungeon into the comparatively 
 purer air of the passage, was but ill-adapted for the pur- 
 poses of combustion. 
 
 Still the torch gave forth a very tolerable amount of 
 illumination, and was amply sufficient to light up the small 
 pestiferous cell. 
 
 It caused the massive stone walls to gleam with sicken- 
 ing brightness as it played upon the fungic exhalations 
 with which they were covered, and upon the moisture 
 which trickled down in streams, and collected in stagnant 
 pools upon the flooring of the dungeon. 
 
 It revealed in one corner, nearly opposite to tho door, 
 a somethiug which it would havo required a second 
 glance to pronounce was a human form. 
 
 But such indeed it was ; so emaciated, so disgusting in 
 its appearance, that we cannot describe it. 
 _ This human being, whoever he was, endeavoured to 
 rise to his feet when he saw Jonathan Wild appear upon 
 tho threshold of the dungeon, but ho found the strength 
 ho possessed was far from being sufficient for the pur- 
 pose. 
 
 With a hollow groan, or moan rather, he sank back 
 again upon his straw, and glared at the thief-taker with 
 eyes in which tho fierce fire of insanity seemed to burn. 
 
 He clenched a few pieces of straw tightly in his hands. 
 
 For some moments Jonathan Wild looked at the spec- 
 tacle before him in perfect silenco. 
 
 He did not move. 
 
 At length, however, finding that the prisoner did not 
 speak, he said— 
 
 " You don't seem well, my lord." 
 
 There was something horrible in these words. 
 
 The mockery was hideous, and so, too, was the tone of 
 voice in which Jonathan pronounced them. 
 
 The idea of such a loathsome and revolting object as 
 that, which now crouched upon the dungeon floor, being a 
 lord ! 
 
 And yet such was the title that he bore — though wrong- 
 fully. 
 
 The reader, without further description, will recognise 
 who this miserable being is. 
 
 Lord Donmull. 
 
 One of the thief- taker's victims. 
 
 It will be recollected how Jonathan enticed him to the 
 cells and confined him there. 
 
 Since that moment he had never seen the light of day 
 nor tasted a mouthful of wholesome food. 
 
 The reader can imagine the effect of this. 
 
 Surely Lord Donmull must now have been brought to 
 the belief that there was something like retribution, even 
 in this world. 
 
 What he had suffered during his long incarceration, no 
 tongue, not even his own, could tell. 
 
 Too late had repentance found a home in that guilty 
 soul. 
 
 Too late did Abel Donmull see how foolishly he had 
 acted in taking tho thiof-taker into his confidence. 
 
 The mocking words which Jonathan uttered seemed to 
 rouse his utmost fury, and rage lent him strength enough 
 to rise to a half-sitting posturo. 
 
 "Jonathan Wild," he said, in a faint, husky voico. 
 " Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " I hear you, my lord," repeated the thief-taker. 
 
 " Release me, villain 1 Release me, I say ! " 
 
 "And do you think you are likely to gain your freedom 
 while you speak thus to mo ? You are safe enough now. 
 No more attempts at escape, en t No. Sound enougb 
 in all conscience."
 
 448 
 
 BLTJESK.IN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 ** Kelease me," cried the wretched man, his voice now J 
 changed to the most abject entreaty. I 
 
 " What can you offer me by way of inducing me to do 
 such a thing ? " asked Jonathan, calmly. 
 
 " Sot me free— only set me free, and you shall have all 
 I possess — everything." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 "Why do you laugh?" . 
 
 " At the idea of your promising me something which 1 
 have already. All that you possess is mine." 
 
 "All?" 
 
 "Yes, all. Yet, stay; there is something you have 
 which I want. Give it to me, and you shall soon bo 
 free." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " You need not ask the question, since you must know 
 from my repeated applications what it is that I do 
 want." 
 
 Lord Donmull— we may as well, for convenience sake, 
 call him by that title — was silent. 
 
 " You have secreted somewhere a bundle of papers of 
 the utmost value to me. They consist of the will of your 
 brother, together with other documents, all of wbich 
 clearly identify the young girl as being your niece, and 
 the rightful heir to the estates. Those papers, I am con- 
 vinced, are in existence ; but you have secreted them in 
 some place where hitherto I have been unable to discover 
 them. Tell me where they are, and you shall be set at 
 liberty." 
 
 " Never, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " Never, did you say ? " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Obstinate fool ! You cannot comprehend the purport 
 of your words. Did you not desire your freedom, s.udyet 
 you reject it when offered to you ? " 
 
 " Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "What, my lord?" 
 
 " Call me no longer by that hateful titie, which was 
 once so delightful to my ears." 
 
 " As you please." 
 
 " I know you, then, too well. Unfortunately, tbat 
 knowledge has been purchased at a high price — that of 
 experience. Still, I know you, and should never dream 
 of surrendering the papers upon the bare faith of your 
 word to set me free when I had done so." 
 
 " What will convince you ? " 
 
 "Nothing. I have resolved that no torture which you 
 can apply snail extort the secret from me of where those 
 papers are concealed ; they are where you would never 
 think of looking for them, and so they are safe— quite 
 safe." 
 
 " Is this your determination ? " 
 
 " It is." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 "Quite sure." 
 
 " Then you are a fool. What harm can it do you to 
 place the papers in my hand ? " 
 
 " Ncne to me, for you could not harm me more than 
 you have done ; but I have resolved that justice shall be 
 done to my brother's child, and above all will I take care 
 that you do not juggle the vast possessions into your 
 bauds. I will take care of that." 
 
 " Insensate fool ! " cried Jonathan Wild, furious with 
 passion. " Give up those papers, and safe your miserable 
 life. Refuse again, and the next moment shall be your 
 last." 
 
 " Then the secret will die with me. No, no-, Jonathan 
 Wild ; that was an idle threat. The only guarantee that 
 I have for my life, the secret of the whereabouts of those 
 papers affords mo. Do your worst. I defy you, and will 
 not deliver up those papers." 
 "You will not?" 
 
 " I have said it." 
 
 " Then, Lord Donmull — or Donmull without the lord, 
 if you like that better — I tell you this. It may be that 
 you think you have realized to its fullest extent the mean- 
 ing of the word suffering. But I shall prove to you that, 
 as yet, you have but a slight conception of li. Depend 
 upon it, you will soon change your mind." 
 
 " Do your worst," cried the miserable tenant of the 
 dungeon. " Do your worst." 
 
 Uttering a howl of rage, Jonathan Wild shut the cell 
 door, and relocked it. 
 
 CHAPTER CCLXXXIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD TAKES HIS SON INTO HIS CONFIDENCE, 
 BUT THE WHEREABOUTS OF THE PAFERS REMAINS A 
 MYSTERY. 
 
 " CuRSESon his obstinacy ! " muttered the thief-taker, as 
 he took his way along the passage towards the grating 
 again. " Curses on bis obstinacy ! Why does he not 
 deliver up those papers, or rather tell me where they are ? 
 I never anticipated so much trouble with him. But those 
 papers I must and will have. They are indispensable to 
 me. Once in my possession, all will be well." 
 
 He ascended the stairs as he spoke, and passed through 
 the gratiug. 
 
 Without pausing or speaking, he made his way up to 
 his own room again. 
 
 _ The fire was still burning, though very dimly. A 
 vigorous poke, however, set that all right, and then Jona- 
 than muttered again — 
 
 " Is it possible that be so well comprehends his position 
 as to know that while he refuses to disclose the locality of 
 those papers his life is safe ? It seems so. But he shall 
 be deceived. I will stir earth and hell but what I will 
 discover them." 
 He banged upon the table as he spoke. 
 That was his usual mode of summoning any on9t 
 Tonks appeared. 
 " Where's George ? " 
 " Do you mean your son, Mr. Wild ? " 
 " Of course I do, fool. Where is he ? " 
 "Upstairs, I believe, Mr. Wild." 
 " In bed ? " 
 " I thiuk so, sir." 
 
 " Theu go and find him, and tell him I want to speak 
 to him." 
 
 Tonks withdrew without a word, glad enough to escapo 
 
 unharmed from the lion's den. 
 
 But he had another disagreeable course to go through. 
 
 George Wild was not of a much more amiable temper 
 
 than his delightful parent, and if he was really asleep. 
 
 Touks rather dreaded the task of waking him. 
 
 With a slow step, then, and looking like a man who is 
 on his way to be executed, Tonks ascended the stairs, and 
 made his way to the bed-chamber which was occupied by 
 Wild, junior. 
 The door was closed. 
 
 Tonks tapped gently at it with his knuckles. 
 The summons was disregarded. 
 He repeated it. 
 This time louder. 
 Still the same result. 
 
 "Perhaps he isn't here," thought Tonks, and to settle 
 that point he stooped down and placed his ear against the 
 key-hole. 
 
 The moment he did so, he heard a tremendous suoriug 
 sound, which told pretty clearly that Wild, junior, was in 
 the room, and resting himself after his late fatigue. 
 Tonks's heart sunk within him. 
 
 He did not dare to disobey the orders of the thief-taker. 
 And he had an almost equal dread of waking Wild, 
 junior. 
 
 However, he knocked again at the door, and, rendered 
 desperate by his position, with so much loudness that he 
 made all the house echo. 
 He awaited the result with a beating heart. 
 Some inarticulate grunts followed, and then he said— 
 " Mr. Wild— Mr. Wild." 
 " What now ? " 
 George was awake. 
 
 " Mr. Wild wants you, if you please. He's downstairs 
 in his room, and wants to 6ee you directly." 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " I say, sir, that your respected father wishes to epeak 
 to you immediately." 
 " Go to the devil." 
 " You must come." 
 
 " Tell him I'll see him jolly well d— d first. Do you 
 think I am to be woke up out of a comfortable sleep, and 
 fetched out of bed in the middle of the night just to please 
 his d— d foolery ? Tonks ! " 
 " What, sir." 
 
 " Tell him to go and be d — d, and that I'll see him as 
 
 far iu h — 1 as he is out of it before I'll come : there now." 
 
 And George Wild, having thus delivered himself,
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAtfdE. 
 
 449 
 
 [JACK SHEPPARD PROTECTS EDGWORTH BESS FROM THE ATTACK OF THE MAD DOG.] 
 
 turned over on his bed, a*nd complacently went to sleep 
 again. 
 
 But here was a dilemma for Tonks. 
 
 What on earth was he to do ? 
 
 He did not dare stop. 
 
 Yet he hesitated. 
 
 He feared to knock at the door again. 
 
 He was recalled to himself by hearing Jonathan bang- 
 ing on the table. 
 
 He was getting impatient at the delay. 
 
 Tonks turned round and round. 
 
 At one moment he thought he would go one way. 
 
 The next another. 
 
 At last, with his knees shaking uuder him as though 
 they would never sustain his weight, he went downstairs, 
 and knocked hurriedly at the door of Jonathan's room. 
 
 The thief- taker roared out for him to come in. 
 
 Tonks opened the door to the extent of a few inches 
 only, and then projected the upper part of his head into 
 the room. 
 
 Jonathan glared at him. 
 
 " Where's George ? " 
 
 " If you please, Mr. Wild " 
 
 Tonks paused. 
 
 " Well, villain ? Come mto the room. What the devil 
 do you mean by poking your head in like that ? Come in, 
 villain, or" . . 
 
 Tonks did not wait to hear the enunciation of the threat, 
 but came into the room at once. 
 
 He shook in every limb. (J 
 
 " If you please, sir," he said, hastily, " he a asleep. 
 
 " Wake him, then." 
 
 " I did, sir. He answered me." 
 
 " What did he say ? " 
 
 " I don't like to tell you, sir." 
 
 "Ya— ah. If you don't" . 
 
 And Jonathan assumed such an awfully diabolical look, 
 that Tonks cried — ,. 
 
 "He told me to tell you that he'd see you jolly well 
 d— d before he'd get up in the middle of the night, and 
 
 Ho. 67.
 
 450 
 
 BLTJESK.IN: A HOMANCB. 
 
 that he'd see you stuck as far in h — 1 as you are out of it, 
 and then bo wouldn't." 
 
 The expression of Jonathan's face whilo Tonks made 
 this communication was really a picture to see. 
 
 lie pushed his wig almost off his head, and staggered 
 back several paces. 
 
 Touks could not help enjoying his consternation, tbougb 
 be did not dare to allow it to be visible. 
 
 "He said that, did bo ? " gasped Wild, at length, 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " Then go upstairs again, and say that, unless be comes 
 down this moment, I will have hiin kicked out of the 
 bouse. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Bo off, then." 
 
 Tonks once more departed upon bis most unpleasant 
 errand. 
 
 Once more be knocked at the door, but this time with 
 firmness. ' 
 
 He beard a storm of imprecrations from witbin. 
 
 The next moment the door was thrown open, and 
 George Wild appeared upon the threshold, with nothing 
 on but bis shirt. 
 
 " Take that ! " be cried ; and, as be spoke, ho threw 
 something with great force and suddenness at Tonk's 
 bead. 
 
 Providentially, however, be saw the missile coming, and 
 be ducked his head just in time to allow what was thrown 
 to pass over him harmlessly. 
 
 There was a tremendous crasb as it struck against the 
 opposite wall. 
 
 " What the devil do you mean ? " be roared. 
 
 In a voice at least an octave higher, Tonks cried — 
 
 " The guv'nor says he'll have you kicked out of tbe 
 bouse if you don't come down and speak to him." 
 
 There were very few persons who knew Jonathan Wild 
 so well as his sou did. 
 
 He knew just how far he could go with safety. 
 
 This was no idle threat, be felt certain ; and, as be did 
 not wish to come to a rupture just at present, be hastily 
 slipped on his garments, telling Tonks to say be would 
 be down in a moment. 
 
 This message was delivered. 
 
 Wild, junior, however, felt far from pleased with being 
 thus disturbed in bis first sleep, and he muttered some very 
 awful curses as he descended tbe stairs. 
 
 " D — n me ! guv'nor," be exclaimed, as he entered tbe 
 room in which his father was sitting, " this is a new move, 
 ain't it ? Cuss me, if I like it." 
 
 Jonathan frowned, but did not speak. 
 
 " What is it, guv'DOr ? Speak up ! What have you got 
 in your mind ? If I can give you easement, I am sure I 
 will." 
 
 " Don't be a fool, George. When I sent up to you I 
 ■wanted you particularly — you might have been sure of 
 that." 
 
 " It's d — d fine for you to talk like that. I believe you 
 can live without sleep, but I can't, and there's an end of 
 it. It ain't very pleasant to be woke up with some one 
 tabbering at tbe door, and telling you to get up." 
 
 " George." 
 
 "What, guv'nor?" 
 
 "Are you willing to listen and pay attention to wbat I 
 am going to say to you ? " 
 
 " Of course I am." 
 
 " Sit down, then, and pour out a glass of brandy." 
 
 George did as be was bid, and for tbe first time, began 
 to feel curious about wbat bis father could possibly want 
 bim for. 
 
 " I'm paying every attention, guv'nor," be said, as be 
 seated himself. 
 
 " Very well, George. Now, I have been rather pleased 
 with tbe manner in wbicb you carried out tbe Uttle affair 
 with Blueskin." 
 
 "Oh! youaro." 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " Cut along, then. So am I." 
 
 " Your success encourages me to set you upon another 
 enterprise ; and, if you succeed in that"— — 
 
 " Don't promise, guv'nor. Tell me wbat I have got to 
 do, and, when I have done it, I shan't bo backward in 
 asking payment, never fear." 
 
 " Well, then, I think you pretty well understand all about 
 tbe girl I want to get rid of ? " 
 
 " Edgwortb Bess ? " 
 
 "Yes, that is the name by wbicb sbe is known;" 
 
 " What then P" 
 
 " She is an heiress." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Now there are in existence certain documents wbicb 
 incoutestably prove ber identity, and also prove her rights 
 to a largo fortune. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " Down below in one of tbe cells I have a prisoner who 
 knows where those papers are. He has bidden them, 
 indeed, but he refuses to tell me where. I have tried 
 every means possible to get the information from bim. I 
 went down to-night. He is almost starving with hunger. 
 I offered him immediate freedom if be would surrender ; 
 but he refused, and apparently with greater firmness than 
 he ever has before ! " 
 
 " Ob ! and suppose be was to tell you. Should you set 
 bim free, according to promise ? " 
 
 " Do I look like a fool ? " 
 
 " I must say, at times you bear a strong resemblance to 
 one." 
 
 " Pbo — pbo ! This is trifling. The moment I obtained 
 tbe information I sought I should slay him on the spot. 
 He would be of no use to me then, and it would be 
 decidedly unsafe to set him at liberty." 
 
 " Well, guv'nor, you don't tell me who this prisoner is, 
 so I am compelled to ask this question. Does be know 
 you ? " 
 
 " The prisoner ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Of course be does." 
 
 " I mean, does he know your capacity for treachery, and 
 that you are not to be trusted on your oath ? " 
 
 Jonathan scowled. 
 
 " Its plain talking, I know," continued bis son, " but 
 does he know you ? " 
 
 " He ought to." 
 
 " That is enough, then. He is aware that tbe only 
 chance be has of bis life is by keeping bis secret, and so 
 you may depend you will never know it — by bis telling, at 
 any rate." 
 
 "You think so?" 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " So do I." 
 
 " I am glad to find you of the same mind. Wbat next, 
 guv'nor ? " 
 
 " I want to find those papers. If I discover them, tbe 
 prisoner dies ! " 
 
 " You are sure they are in existence ? " 
 
 " Quite certain. I have seen them." 
 
 " And they are not destroyed, you think ? " 
 
 " Ob ! no. And now, George, where do you think it 
 likely such papers would be bidden ? " 
 
 " Can't answer that question, guv'nor." 
 
 " Where should you think ? " 
 
 " Don't know enough of tbe particulars to say." 
 
 " I will tell you more, then. You must understand 
 that this girl has an uncle who contrived to usurp her 
 rights and title — no matter by wbat means. This uncle is 
 my prisoner." 
 
 "The devil!" 
 
 " And be has repented." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " He wants to restore to the girl that which rightfully 
 belongs to her ; and that it will by no means answer my 
 purpose to allow bim to do, because, in a word, I intend 
 to have the lot myself." 
 
 " You are a wonderful man, guv'nor. There's no sort 
 of mistake about that." 
 
 Wild grinned. 
 
 " It is this uncle who had possession of the papers I 
 have referred to, and who has secreted them somewhere. 
 Now, where should you think would be a likely place ? " 
 
 " How do you know he has bidden them P " 
 
 " Because be says so." 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 "And I cannot find them." 
 
 " Where have you looked ? " 
 
 " I have had his person thoroughly searched, and am 
 convinced he does not carry them about with him." 
 
 " Had be any suspicion that you were about to make 
 bim prisoner ? 
 
 "No." 
 
 ^J
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 451 
 
 " You took him by surprise ? " 
 "Quite." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXO. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND HIS SON MAKE CLOSE SEARCH FOR 
 THE MISSING PAPERS. 
 
 " It is a strange thing," said Wild, junior, after a few 
 minutes' rumination. "Had this uncle any motive for 
 secreting these papers ? " 
 
 " No motive that I can think of." 
 
 " Well, then, I can't make it out." 
 
 "No more can I. But think the matter over, Geoige. 
 It is very important that those papers should be iu my 
 possession." 
 
 " I don't doubt that. You say you took this uncle 
 prisoner at a moment when you believed he least expected 
 
 '"Just so." 
 
 " And then you immediately searched his person ? " 
 
 " Immediately." 
 
 " You did not let him go out of your sight a moment 
 after you made him prisoner, until you searched him ? " 
 
 " Well, I can't exactly say that." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 w You see, the first thing I did was to shut him up in 
 one of the cells downstairs, but, as soon after as possible, 
 I went down and had him searched." 
 
 " And then the papers were nowhere to be found." 
 
 " Nowhere." 
 
 "Did you search the cell ?" 
 
 " Every square inch in it ; and as that, like all the rest, 
 was constructed under my own supervision, I am able to 
 say positively that the papers are not in the cell." 
 
 " I am afraid you will have to give them up." 
 
 " No — no. I must and will find them." 
 
 " That's always the way you talk. You have searched 
 his house, of course ? " ' 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " And unsuccessfully ? " 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Well, then, guv'nor, I confess myself beaten. You 
 may depend this uncle had a pretty good idea of what 
 kind of man he was dealing with, and therefore, suspect- 
 ing you might some day make him a prisoner, he has 
 hidden the papers ; and, depend upon it, without having 
 the least clue, it would bo folly to think of discovering 
 them." 
 
 " But I cannot give up anything of such vast import- 
 ance as this so easily, George. I do think tho prisoner 
 knows that he only has a chance of his life while he 
 retains the secret of where the papers are hidden, but I 
 don't think he suspected beforehand." 
 
 " Well, maybe he did not." 
 
 " Now, George, suppose you had something you wished 
 to hide, where should you place it ? " 
 
 " I don't know : in the most unlikely place I could 
 think of." 
 
 " Most likely it would be somewhere in your own house, 
 if you had one." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then that may be the case with this uncle." 
 
 " There seems a probability of it ; but what are you 
 driving at, guv'nor ? You told me you had searched the 
 house." 
 
 "And so I have." 
 
 " Very well, then." 
 
 " But still, I fear, not with that care with which it 
 ought to be searched." 
 
 " I see." 
 
 " So I want you to accompany me at once, and we will 
 have one more good look about us." 
 
 " But it's a rum time of night, guv'nor." 
 
 " There could not be a time more suited to our pur- 
 pose." 
 
 " Where is the house ? " 
 
 " In Piccadilly." 
 
 " Is it occupied ? " 
 
 " No ; since the disappearance of the owner of it, it has 
 been shut up." 
 
 " We shall have to break in, then ? " 
 
 " That will not be much trouble." 
 
 " Not if you know the ins and outa of the place it won't, 
 guv'nor." 
 
 "Well, I will manage all that. Just array yourself, 
 ► " r -Ju need do no more." 
 
 " You will see to the rest ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " All right, then ; I am ready." 
 
 " Wait a moment." 
 _ Jonathan Wild stowed about his person several burgla- 
 rious instruments, iu the use of which he was quite an 
 expert. 
 
 He was soon ready, and having drank a parting glass 
 of brandy, the pair set out upon their expedition. 
 
 The man on the lock looked rather surprised to see 
 them both go out together. 
 
 As they crossed the Old Bailey they heard the different 
 churches in the metropolis chiming the hour of one. 
 
 London was quite empty and deserted at that hour a 
 century and a half ago, except, perhaps, in the neighbour- 
 hood of such places as Covent Garden-market. 
 
 A steady, drizzling kind of rain was falling, too, and 
 had been falling for some hours, and this materially con- 
 tributed to clear the streets of people. 
 
 As they proceeded they did not even so much as meet 
 with a solitary watchman. 
 
 Those guardians of the night were all snuggly 
 ensconced in their boxes, and fast asleep. 
 
 The distance from Jonathan Wild's house iu Newgate- 
 street to the mansion recently occupied by Lord Donmull, 
 in Piccadilly, was rather considerable, but Jonathan and 
 his son walked at a brisk pace. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was anxious in the extreme to obtain 
 possession of those papers. 
 
 Could he but once obtain them, he felt ho should be 
 quite master of the situation. 
 
 He should fear nothing, and the accomplishment of his 
 fiendish scheme would be easy enough. 
 
 The difficulties that stood in the way, however, were 
 rather great. 
 
 The reader should understand that he had all along 
 confidently calculated upon extorting from the lips of Lord 
 Donmull the secret of their hiding-place. 
 
 But we have seen how totally ho failed in doing this, 
 although the means he had employed to wrest a confes- 
 sion from him were, one would have thought, ample 
 enough. 
 
 He was now thrown back upon his own resources, for he 
 quite believed that he should never be able to extort a dis- 
 closure from his prisoner. 
 
 He was anxious to possess the papers, too. 
 
 Time was of great importance, and he made up his mind 
 that, should he be successful in his present enterprise, 
 Lord Donmull should not survive another day. 
 
 And as he strode along the silent and deserted streets he 
 occupied his mind in devising schemes by which he would 
 put the unfortunate man to death. 
 
 George Wild, on the contrary, was busy thinking about 
 these papers. 
 
 " They must be of great importance," he muttered 
 mentally, " or else the guv'nor would not be in such a 
 fidget about them. All I can say is, if I once get hold of 
 them he will have some trouble in persuading me to give 
 them up again ! " 
 
 In about half-an-hour Piccadilly was reached. 
 
 Jonathan Wild well knew which was the house occupied 
 by Lord Donmull, and he directed his steps to it without 
 hesitation. 
 
 It faced the park railings. 
 
 Jonathan went straight to the front door, which, accord- 
 ing to the fashion of the times, was a large and over- 
 hanging one. 
 
 When they stood beneath it, they were completely 
 hidden from observation. 
 
 It was not Jonathan Wild's first visit to this place. 
 
 When tie house had been closed, every part of it had 
 been securely fastened, with the exception of the front 
 door, which was locked. 
 
 The reason of this was obvious. 
 
 It would be impossible for the bolts to be shot into 
 their sockets from without. 
 
 Knowing this, the thief-taker inserted a skeleton-key 
 into the lock ; which, being of a very common description, 
 yielded at once. 
 
 Like two shadows, the precious pair glided through the 
 door, which Wild, senior, carefully closed after them, and 
 relocked.
 
 ■flK^Efc - .. -_-»-<-V 
 
 ■ m\mmtm m ■ ■ ■ i 
 
 452 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 He did not anticipate any interruption, or having to 
 beat a speedy retreat. 
 
 The interior of tlie bouse was intensely dark. 
 
 The first thing Jonathan did, then, was to set about 
 procuring a light ; and, as be bad provided for this, be 
 was not long about it. 
 
 Some phosphorous matches were first produced, an J 
 with these be lighted a small dark lantern, which diffused 
 a brilliant light, in consequence of the excellence of the 
 lens, and the brightness of the reflector behind it. 
 
 A broad beam of light came through it, and, wherever 
 'his fell, all objects were distinctly visible. 
 
 " Let us begin at the beginning, guv'nor, u we are to 
 search the house." 
 
 " How do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, let us go right up as high as we can, until we 
 can go no higher, and then begin to look ; gradually 
 descending to the ground, and leaving no place without 
 closely examining it." 
 
 " Ishould have adopted that course myself." 
 
 " So much the ■ etter, then, since we shan't fall out 
 about that. But, if re are to search the house thoroughly, 
 it will take us a long time." 
 
 " Never mind that, so long as our trouble is re- 
 warded." 
 
 " That's all very well ; but I mean we shall have to 
 make several journeys here to do it." 
 
 " I don't know that. It will all depend upon circum- 
 stances." 
 
 " So it will." 
 
 " Let us hope we shall succeed." 
 
 " With all my heart. Do you know the Way up to the 
 top, guv'nor." 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " Lead on, then." 
 
 Jonathan Wild crossed the passage to the foot of a 
 broad flight of stairs, and up these they proceeded with all 
 
 The house was a high one, and some minutes elapsed 
 before they reached the top story. 
 
 But at length they arrived. 
 
 The policy or mode of action recommended by Wild, 
 junior, was excellent, and well calculated to ensure 
 success. 
 
 Indeed, if the papers were concealed in the house, and 
 the search conducted properly, they must inevitably have 
 been found. 
 
 There were indications that the rooms on the top-floor 
 bad been used as sleeping apartments for the servants, 
 and they had been left in a condition of the greatest dis- 
 order. 
 
 With a patience scarcely credible the two Wilds care- 
 fully and severally examined every loose article. 
 
 Then when this was done, the walls were sounded, the 
 cupboards searched, the boards on the floor examined, with 
 a view to ascertain whether they presented any signs of 
 recent disturbance, and the chimney was poked up to see 
 whether anything had been concealed there. 
 
 Then, after all this bad been done without producing 
 any result, they searched every drawer there was in the 
 place, and took the bedsteads to pieces. 
 
 Both worked with right good will, but still a good deal 
 of time was consumed. 
 
 At length, however, they prepared to ascend to the next 
 floor, with the satisfaction, if satisfaction it could be called, 
 of being quite confident that the papers they wanted were 
 not concealed on the top story. 
 
 Over these operations we need not linger. 
 
 Let it suffice to say that the other bedrooms in the house 
 were searched, with the like result. 
 
 And yet they allowed no place, no matter how unlikely 
 or bow ill adapted for the purpose of concealment, to pass 
 unexamined. 
 
 At length a spacious room on the first-floor was reached, 
 which was magnificently fitted up as a library. 
 
 Here there seemed a better prospect of success, and 
 although by this time the dawn of the new day had fully 
 come, Wild and his son set about their task with unabated 
 vigour. 
 
 Their previous failures, so far from disheartening them, 
 only seemed to have the* effect of endowing them with fresh 
 courage. 
 
 But it maybe that they entertained great hopes of being 
 sbjo to find what they sought in the library, and the 
 
 appearance of the room was well calculated to foster such 
 an idea. 
 
 Papers were strewed about in great abundance, and in 
 every direction. 
 
 The inside shutters of the mansion were closed and the 
 curtains drawn over them, so Jonathan had no fears about 
 exhibiting a light. 
 
 Accordingly, he ignited several of the wax candles which 
 were stuck in the chandelier depending from the ceiling. 
 
 Then, with praiseworthy patience, he sat down to his 
 task. 
 
 Some papers lay upon «he floor, but these were carefully 
 gathered up. 
 
 One by one, then, they toQk every scrap of paper up, 
 examined it, and cast it on the floor. 
 
 But the last paper was raised and dropped with no better 
 result than the first. 
 
 Several books lay upon the table, and these they turned 
 over leaf by leaf, in order to be sure that what they sought 
 was not contained between any of them. 
 
 Still no use. 
 
 But Jonathan was not baffled yet. 
 
 One by one he took the books down off the shelves, and 
 subjected them to the same process ; and when, in this 
 manner, several hundred books bad been examined, he 
 carefully looked at the shelves upon which they had stood. 
 
 Wild, junior, now began to look heartily tired of his 
 work, but not so his father. 
 
 Opening a kind of cupboard, he saw within it a number 
 of boxes, such as are made use of for the reception and 
 preservation of papers. 
 
 He gathered fresh hope from this, and commenced an 
 examination of their contents. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD BELIEVES THAT HE HAS AT LAST HIT 
 UPON THE PLACE WHERE THE PAPERS ARE CONCEALED. 
 
 If anything, however, this proved to be a longer job than 
 any of the preceding ones, and it terminated with no 
 better result. 
 
 Papers were there in plenty, but not the documents they 
 required. 
 
 When the last one fluttered from his grasp, Wild, 
 junior, looked up at his parent with an expression on his 
 face that would be very hard to describe. 
 
 Some idea may, perhaps, be formed of it when we set 
 down the words to which he at the same time gave utter- 
 ance. 
 
 " Guv'nor," he said, " we're a couple of d — d fools." 
 
 Jonathan looked up surprised. 
 
 For his son to say such a thing of himself seemed 
 
 By way of emphasis, however, George repeated tbo 
 expression. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Just what I say." 
 
 " Explain yourself." 
 
 " Why, we have been looking all this time in the wrong 
 place." 
 
 " In the wrong place ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " But you advised coming here." 
 
 "I know I did." 
 
 " Well ? " 
 
 "And that's why I am a d— d fool." 
 
 " I cannot understand you." 
 
 " Well, then, I will explain. It's no good our looking 
 in this house for the papers we require." 
 
 " Why not P " 
 
 " Because they are not here." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " Is it at all a likely place ? Guv'nor, I'll tell you what 
 we've done." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " Why, in seeking the profound we have overlooked the 
 superficial." 
 
 " You are talking Greek to me." 
 
 " Then I'll speak plain English. Do you understand 
 this ? Had Lord Donuiull — for such I find by these papers 
 is his name — had he a lawyer — solicitor, you know. ' 
 
 " Of course he had." 
 
 " Do you know bis name ? " 
 
 " I can't call it to mind."
 
 BIUXSKIK: A SOMAN CB. 
 
 453 
 
 " Should yon know it if yon w»re to hoar it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Was it William Mcidford ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and his office is in Pump-court, Temple." 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 " But how did you know his name ? " 
 
 " I turned over a letter of his just now." 
 
 " What about ? " 
 
 " A mortgage : nothing concerning our business. And 
 he is or was this Lord Donmull's solicitor ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then, yon may depend, ho keeps all the family 
 papers." 
 
 " I dare say he does." 
 
 " Then those we want are amongst them," 
 
 Jonathan shook his head. 
 
 " You don't think so, guv'nor ? " 
 
 " I don't." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because the papers aro of such a character that he 
 would never trust them to a lawyer." 
 
 " I don't know that." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " But, look here. Now, suppose he had some doubts 
 and suspicions of you — and it s d — d odd if he didn't " — 
 
 " What then ? " 
 
 " He might have made these papers up into a packet 
 and carefully sealed it, then delivered it into the hands of 
 the solicitor, with particular instructions." 
 
 " Die might have done such a thing," said the thief- 
 taker, thoughtfully. 
 
 " Of course he might. And suppose the instructions 
 given were something to the effect that, if he did not turn 
 up after a certain time, the solicitor was to open the 
 packet, and act according to the instructions contained in 
 it." 
 
 Jonathan leapt to his feet as though galvanized. 
 
 " By heaven, George ! " he cried, " I believe yon have 
 hit it ! " 
 
 " Easy does it, guv'nor — easy does it." 
 
 " Easy be d— d." 
 
 " Listen to me." 
 
 " You need not speak. I can see all now plain enough. 
 You may depend that is what he has done. By no other 
 means can I account for his braving and defying me in the 
 manner he has done. Yes, that is it." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder." 
 
 " It is — it is ; and, perhaps, by this the time has expired 
 — perhaps it expires to-day — and the lawyer will open the 
 parcel. If so, then all is over — all — all." 
 
 " Easy does it, guv'nor," said Wild, junior, again. 
 " Why don't you take it easy ? " 
 
 " Who could be easy P You would not, with all your 
 affected philosophy, if you knew what was at stake." 
 
 " Well, guv'nor, look here a minute." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " Supposing it should turn out that what I say is right ? 
 What does it matter ? We can find the lawyer, and, if 
 he's got the papers, we'll d — d soon have them." 
 
 "That must be it. Wo will do so. It was a lucky 
 thought of yours, and quite took me by surprise. It never 
 occurred to me. It accounts for everything." 
 
 " Does it ? Then I am very glad to hear it." 
 
 "We will bo off at once, George, to this lawyer's 
 chambers in the Temple — at once. Come." 
 
 " Stop a minute, guv'nor." 
 
 " No— no ! " 
 
 " But I say, yes — yes ! Just listen to what I have got 
 to say for a moment, will you ? It's worth heaving." 
 
 " Speak, then." 
 
 "Do yon think it will be wise to allow ourselves to be 
 seen coming out of this house, nnd by this time there are 
 sure to be people abroad." 
 
 " Oh ! yes. I forgot the shutters are closed, and the 
 curtains drawn, which fills this room with darkness, but 
 out in the street it is quite light." 
 
 " Just so." 
 
 " I have been so intently occupied upon what 1 am 
 about, that I forgot to note the flight of time." 
 
 " It's half-past nine dow, guv'nor, as near as may be." 
 
 " You are quite right, it would be injudicious in the 
 extremo for us to be seen leaving this houso during day- 
 light. And yet to wait here " — — 
 
 " You don t like the idea of that, do yon ? " 
 
 " I don't ; but it would be no good to go to the lawyer's 
 chambers before night, would it P " 
 _ " No good at all, guv'nor ; so we may as well pass the 
 time here as anywhere else." 
 
 " There are beds to sleep in, and I am weary." 
 
 " Ditto, guv'nor. Recollect, I was woke out of my first 
 sleep." 
 
 " D — n your first sleep." 
 
 " Very well. Look here, guv'nor. You are so uncer- 
 tain in your movements, and I have suffered so much 
 lately from being hungry and having nothing to eat, that 
 I never come out now unprovided." 
 
 As he spoke, Wild, junior, produced from one of the 
 side pockets in his coat a parcel, which, on being opened, 
 disclosed a package of comestibles. 
 
 These he began to eat with great relish, and asked his 
 father to share the meal with him. 
 
 He did so, and pi-oduced a huge flask of brandy, for 
 that was a thing Wild, senior, never travelled without. 
 
 This being the case, the two got on very well, and it 
 did not take them many minutes to demolish all that was 
 before them. • 
 
 When they had finished, Wild, junior, was for lying 
 down and having a nap, but Jonathan would not listen to 
 it. 
 
 The meal he had made had invigorated him, and he 
 was now ready to go through a fresh lot of fatigue. 
 
 " I don't think we ought to take your supposition for 
 granted, George." 
 
 " What's up now, guv'nor ? " 
 
 " Why, as we are here, and must stay here some time 
 longer, I don't think we can do better than finish search- 
 ing the house, a-nd then we shall know whether tho 
 papers are here or not." 
 
 " That would be a satisfaction." 
 
 " It would. Come, George, we shall never have a 
 better opportunity than the present." 
 
 " Go on, old 'un ; I am ready." 
 
 This being decided upon, both rose from the seats upon 
 which they had been sitting, and recommenced their 
 search. 
 
 In this manner several hours were passed away, but 
 without their finding the least trace of what they sought. 
 
 Still, as the thief-taker said, it would be a satisfaction 
 to know they were not there. 
 
 It must not be thought, however, that on this account 
 the search instituted was any the less vigorous or exact. 
 
 Every spot was searched with the same care and minute- 
 ness as before. 
 
 The papers were not discovered, and at length, 
 thoroughly wearied and tired out, they ascended to the 
 bed-rooms, and flung themselves down on two beds, 
 dressed just as they were. 
 
 In a few moments, so thoroughly were they fatigued, 
 that they fell off to sleep, as the melodious concert from 
 their noses would have testified to any one within a 
 reasonable distance. 
 
 The reader doubtless will be of opinion that the sug- 
 gestion put forth by George Wild carried upon the face of 
 it a great deal of plausibility and probability. 
 
 As Wild said, should such prove to be the actual fate, 
 it would at once account for the obstinate behaviour of 
 Lord Donmull. 
 
 He could well afford to defy him and tell him to do his 
 worst. 
 
 Jonathan's sleep was disturbed by various images con- 
 nected with the operations in which he had recently been 
 engaged. 
 
 How long they slept they knew not. 
 
 The thief-taker was the first to wake. 
 
 He immediately called his son, who was snoring away 
 at a furious rate. 
 
 However, he got up. 
 
 Upon consulting their watches, they found they had 
 lain much later than they had intended. 
 
 It was, in fact, a few minutes past eight in the evening. 
 
 " Curse that ! " said Jonathan. 
 
 " Never mind, guv'nor ; it can't be helped now. What'a 
 the first move ? " 
 
 " I must go back home, first." 
 
 " What for." 
 
 " I have been absent a great many hours, and I could 
 not rest any longer without knowing whether all waa safe 
 or not."
 
 BLUESKIN S A ROMANCE. 
 
 ; Very well ; it won't take long to ascertain that, and 
 we shall bo in plenty of time even then." 
 
 " Of courso we shall, and I shall be able to provide my- 
 self with tools and such like." 
 
 " Then we will say agreed to that, eh, guv' nor ?" 
 
 " Come on, then." 
 
 " I am coming." 
 
 Without further delay, the pair descended the stairs to 
 the front door, and Jonathan, having extinguished his 
 lantern and put it out of sight, prepared to open the 
 door. 
 
 Two minutes afterwards they found themselves in the 
 street. 
 
 It was quite dark. 
 
 A hackney-ooach came lumbering by, and Jonathan 
 hailed it and got in. 
 
 It was hardly worth while to fatigue themselves un- 
 necessarily. 
 
 They had doubtless got a pretty good night's work 
 before them. 
 
 Upon arriving at their destination, Jonathan got out, 
 and gave.a hasty summons at the door. 
 
 It was opened instantly, for the man on the lock, aware 
 of his long absence, was on the look-out for him. 
 
 "Is all well? "asked Wild. 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 Jonathan growled, and passed on. 
 
 In the passage he met Quilt Arnold, who had heard his 
 arrival, and who was hastening towards him. 
 
 The thief-taker renewed his question, and received the 
 same satisfactory reply. 
 
 Doubtful of the reality or correctness of such good 
 news, however, he hastened upstairs to the room in which 
 he had left Blueskin, and about whom he felt the greatest 
 anxiety. 
 
 He was about to enter when Mr. Snoxall came forth. 
 
 He held his finger on his lip. 
 
 " Speak in a whisper, Mr. Wild," he said. 
 
 " Is he worse ? " 
 
 '• Yes." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " Well, I can hardly tell you. I would hardly give a 
 pin for his life now." 
 
 " But you told me he was going on all right." 
 
 " So he was." 
 
 " What has caused this relapse ? " 
 
 " He has been getting up, and trying to make his escape 
 I expect." 
 
 " Is he safe ? " 
 
 " Look for yourself." 
 
 Mr. Snoxall gently pushed open the door of the room, 
 and allowed Jonathan Wild to take a peep at the interior. 
 
 There lay Blueskin, extended at full length upon the bed, 
 and looking by far more like a corpse than a human 
 being. 
 
 But Jonathan was satisfied. 
 
 His prisoner was safe. 
 
 Still, when he descended he renewed his caution to Quilt 
 Arnold respecting the guard, and strictly bade him keep 
 good watch. 
 
 Then, going upstairs to his room on the first-floor, he 
 provided himself with such articles as he thought he 
 should require. 
 
 These preparations occupied an hour, but he had still 
 some time to spare, so he sat down to deliberate and make 
 np his mind as to just what he would do. 
 
 While thus engaged, his son George, who had fully 
 equipped himself, came into the room. 
 
 " Are you ready, guv'nor ? " he asked. " Oh ! you're 
 taking it easy at last, I see." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCli. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAED ESTABLISHES ANOTHER CLAIM UPON THE 
 GRATITUDE OF THE PERSECUTED HEIRESS, EDO/WORTH 
 BESS. 
 
 It is, we confess, with quite a feeling of pleasure that we 
 turn from narrating the proceedings of Jonathan Wild and 
 his son, to occupy ourselves with the fortunes of Jack 
 Sheppard and Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The reader will recollect that when we left them last 
 they were standing hand in hand upon the threshold of 
 that ruined, haunted farm-house in which they had had 
 so strange and terrible an adventure. 
 
 They were watching, bnt, alas ! vainly, for Blueskin to 
 
 make his appearance. 
 
 At that very moment he was in the power of Jonathan 
 Wild, although they knew it not. 
 
 Sadly they cast their glances all around the horizon, in 
 the faint hope of seeing the advancing form of their 
 absent ccmrade, but, alas ! they were doomed to disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 And though his own heart was chilled and heavy, not 
 merely in consequence of the absence of his friend, but 
 from the impression which the supei'natural visitation 
 made upon his mind, Jack Sheppard, with a choking voice, 
 endeavoured to utter words of consolation to his more feeble 
 companion, whose eyes he could see filled with tears every 
 moment, and who, with the greatest difficulty, controlled 
 her emotion. 
 
 The effort was almost greater than he could accomplish. 
 
 The horrors of their situation pressed with full force 
 upon him, and almost drove him to distraction. 
 
 That Blueskin had been either captured or slain, he felt 
 confident, for nothing else would account for his long 
 absence. 
 
 Weary, starving, penniless almost, what were they to 
 do ? 
 
 No word of complaint came from the lips of his poor 
 suffering companion, although he knew full well she must 
 be suffering much agony. 
 
 Very many hours had elapsed now since either she* or 
 he had partaken of a morsel of food, and the cravings of 
 their 6tomachs, which at first seemed unendurable, de- 
 generated into a deadly sensation of sickness and nausea. 
 
 They felt, too, giddy and faint. 
 
 To them the bright rays of the morning sun, and the 
 smiling, peaceful-looking landscape, appeared nothing but 
 a mockery. 
 
 The contrast made the misery of their situation more 
 glaringly apparent. 
 
 Sadly, then, their eyes roamed all around, and they 
 rested upon nothing that gave them the least hope. 
 
 " Do not despair, dearest," said Jack Sheppard to his 
 companion, and pressing her hand as he spoke. " Do not 
 despair. Although the prospect before us is so very dark 
 and gloomy, we must strive to go on cheerfully, and await 
 with patience the dawn of better times." 
 
 " I have not the strength of mind, Jack, that you have," 
 replied Edgworth Bess, her tears threatening every 
 moment to obtain the mastery over her. " Difficulties 
 and dangers do not have such a depressing influence upon 
 you as they do upon me, but I cannot help it ; and now, 
 although it will pain you to hear it, I am becoming 
 thoroughly heart-weary, and beginning to lose all hope." 
 
 "Do not speak so sadly, dearest," said Jack, "or you 
 will break my heart." 
 
 " Forgive me, I am weak." 
 
 And, as she spoke, the poor suffering girl broke into a 
 flood of tears, that made Jack's breast swell and ache 
 until it was almost more than he could endure. 
 
 He felt that it would be a relievement to his own over- 
 burdened heart if he could mingle his tears with hers, 
 but a kind of pride would not permit him to do this. 
 
 But he felt himself incapable of doing anything to 
 assuage the poor girl's grief. 
 
 He merely stole his arm around her waist, and drew her 
 head down upon his shoulder. 
 
 Here she wept in plenty. 
 
 During this time, Jack occupied his thoughts with a 
 careful consideration of their position, so that he might 
 be able to say what should be done. 
 
 This he found was no very easy matter. 
 
 Between them they only possessed a very small sum of 
 money, which would just keep them from perishment bnt 
 for a short time only. 
 
 Despite the great confidence he felt in Blueskin's 
 resources and ability to free himself from any position of 
 danger, he could not help feeling full of apprehension as to 
 his fate. 
 
 Should he be dead ? 
 
 There were things far more unlikely, but this was a 
 contingency of so dreadful a character that he did not dara 
 to speculate upon it. 
 
 It was possible that the rained farm-house would form 
 an excellent place of refuge for them, and doubtless it 
 would be to that spot that Blueskin would repair as soon 
 as ho was able.
 
 BLTJESKIN: X BOMAKUB. 
 
 455 
 
 Bat, after what had taken place within that lonesome 
 and dismal habitation, Jack felt that it could no lonasr be 
 a place of refuge for them. 
 
 The bare ground would be better than that rooV aider 
 which so many dire atrocities had been perpetrated. 
 
 Those were his own feelings in the matter, and he was 
 quite sure that his companion would share them in even a 
 greater degree than himself. 
 
 In which direction to look for Blueskin he knew not. 
 
 There was no clue, no trace as to the route he had 
 taken ; and Jack was well aware that to institute any 
 inquiries respecting him would be dangerous in the 
 extreme. 
 
 Then, again, in the went of Blueskin having been 
 made prisoner, and succeeded in freeing himself again, 
 the first place to which he would naturally come to look 
 for Bess and Jack would be the ruined farm-house in 
 which he had left them. 
 
 This seemed to indicate a necessity of hovering round 
 about that spot, and on no account going far from it, 
 
 Otherwise they would miss each other. 
 
 Then, on the other hand, there was the dread that, if 
 Jonathan Wild had captured Blueskin anywhere in the 
 vicinity, he would extend his researches, under the belief 
 that where one was the others would be also. 
 
 On the one hand, then, if he remained he should be 
 menaced by the danger of discovery by Wild. 
 
 If he left and wandered away, he would run the risk of 
 losing Blueskin. 
 
 Truly was he between the horns of a dilemma, and he 
 had only a choice of evils. 
 
 By the time he had reached this point in his reflections, 
 Edgworth Bess had ceased weeping, and now she looked 
 up into his countenance with an air of greater resigna- 
 tion. 
 
 Never in his life, perhaps, was Jack so sensible of the 
 great responsibility which had been cast upon him by 
 having this young girl so fully under his protection, than 
 he did at the present moment. 
 
 " I am better now, Jack," she said. " Don't be angry 
 with me for crying so. I could not help it. What shall 
 we do now ? " 
 
 "That is what I have been trying to decide.' 
 
 " And I am so dreadfully faint for want of food, Jack. 
 Where shall we get any ? I believe I shall die if I do not 
 have some soon." 
 
 " It breaks my heart," said Jask, " when I think to what 
 privations and sufferings you have been subjected through 
 the villainy of that man whose existence is a foul spot on 
 the fair surface of creation." 
 
 " I cannot think how it is that such monstrous villainy 
 as his is can remain so long unpunished." 
 
 " And I. And yet I have a feeling within which tells 
 me that the day of his utter downfall and confusion is not 
 far distant." 
 
 " But, Jack. Let us, at all events, leave this place. 
 Surely in this part of the country we shall not be likely to 
 be recognised." 
 
 " Yes, come with me, for I cannot see you die of hunger 
 before my eyes. Thank heaven ! I have the means of 
 obtaining provisions for to-day, though I fear we shall 
 have some trouble. But never mind that. Come ! " 
 
 " And Blueskin," said Edgworth Bess, as she lingered 
 a moment. " How shall we find him if we go away from 
 here — or, rather, how will he find us ? " 
 
 " We must not think of that just at present. It will be 
 better if we can buoy ourselves up with the hope that 
 while we are on our way to the next village we may meet 
 with him." 
 
 " I trust we may, but I fear there is little ground for 
 entertaining such a hope. Oh ! Jack, tell me truly what 
 yon think has become of him." 
 
 " I am almost afraid to think." 
 x dread the worst." 
 
 * And, to speak frankly, so do I. You remember I 
 heard the sound of horses' hoofs upon the road while we 
 halted near the suicide's grave." 
 
 " Oh ! yes," replied Edgworth Bess, phuadering at this 
 allusion to the ill-omened place. " On ! je». I recollect 
 you said that Jonathan Wild wa^n the ioad." 
 
 " Such was my suspicion, ana l iear it is out too true a 
 <*ne. It may be that Wild pounced upon Blueskin by 
 surprise, and made him a prisoner before he was aware of 
 
 " Perhaps he has put him to death.*' 
 
 " I do not fear that. I know he reserves Blueskin for a 
 particular fate." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " A favourite mode of disposing of people Wild has. It 
 is of having them executed at Tyburn." 
 
 Bess shuddered. 
 
 " At times," she said, " I can scarcely bring myself to 
 believe that he is a man." 
 
 " It would be fortunate for the credit of humanity if it 
 could be proved that he was not. But come, we will not 
 linger here. Take hold of my arm. Lean upon me. It 
 is true I am weak, but still I am stronger than you 
 are." 
 
 Edgworth Bess was glad enough to accept of this 
 assistance, for she felt that she was scarcely able to walk 
 without a support of some kind. 
 
 In this way, then, they made their way through the 
 neglected fields which surrounded the farm-house, and in 
 a short time reached the gate that led into the high-road. 
 
 Through this they passed, and, quite unconsciously, 
 followed in the exact footsteps of Blueskin, for that was 
 the very route he had taken a few hours before. 
 
 " We wiH stop at the first inn we come to," said Jack, 
 " and there obtain some refreshment. Ah ! look. Tell 
 me whether my eyes deceive me. Is not that a sign whick 
 I can see in the distance, swinging lazily to and fro in tht 
 wind ? " 
 
 " It is, Jack." 
 
 " Oh ! joy— joy. You have not far to go now. I hop* 
 we shall have the good fortune to meet with some kin4 
 persons." 
 
 "So do I. But, Jack!" 
 
 " What, dearest ? " 
 
 " Will it not seem strange for us to be seen wanderinf 
 thus together ? " 
 
 " It may have a strange look." 
 
 " It may be the means of generating suspicion." 
 
 " It may." 
 
 " How can it be avoided ? " 
 
 " I know but of one means." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " For us to pass ourselves off for brother and sister, 
 and invariably address each other by that title. Thus I 
 shall be brother John, and you will be sister Elizabeth." 
 
 " Very well, Jack ; let it be so. How I wish that I had 
 a brother ! " 
 
 The forlornness of the poor girl's situation, bereft as 
 she was of all relations, struck deeply home to Jack's 
 heart. 
 
 " I will be your brother," he replied, in as cheerful a 
 voice as he could assume ; for Jack was afraid to allow 
 her thoughts to dwell upon that subject. " I will be a 
 brother, and perform a brother's duty." 
 
 She pressed his hand affectionately as he spoke, but 
 remained silent. 
 
 A walk of a few minutes brought them to the inn. 
 
 It was a rude, old-fashioned building, built on the out- 
 skirts of the village. 
 
 Looking up at the sign, Jack saw that it was called 
 " The Well of Content." 
 
 He pointed it out to his companion, and expressed a 
 hope that it would prove to be such to them. 
 
 There was a comfortable, homely look about the place, 
 and Jack felt quite pleased with it. 
 
 He could not help envying those whose lot it was to 
 live there so peacefully. 
 
 There was an air of repose all around, from the cat 
 that was basking on the wall to a couple of horses which 
 were drinking from the trough in front of the door. , 
 
 With an easy, confident step, Jack led hio companion to 
 the front door of the inn. 
 
 He ascended the two well-worn steps before it, and 
 walked a few steps down a passage into a large kitchen, 
 in which a fire was blazing and casting a comfortable 
 warmth around. 
 
 A woman came forward, mco, Jack conjectured, was 
 the landlady. 
 
 He was favourably impressed with her appearance in a 
 moment. 
 
 He could tell by her beaming face that she possesseu a 
 kind heart. 
 
 " We are travelling to London," said Jack to her, and 
 this is my sister. We are hungry, and want rest and
 
 456 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 refreshment. We are not rich enough to ride, but still 
 we can pay for our accommodation." 
 
 The landlady was favourably prepossessed by the 
 appearance of Edgworth Bess, and she at once invited 
 them into the kitchen. 
 
 They sat down upon a screen by the fireside, and a 
 tempting meal to the hungry wayfarers was laid upon the 
 table before them. 
 
 To this they did ample justice. 
 
 Afterwards Jack, having given her a caution cot to say 
 too much, confided Edgworth Bess to the care of the land- 
 lady, in order that she might make some alterations in 
 her toilette. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD SHOOTS THE MAD DOG IN THE LANE, 
 AND SAVES THE LIFE OF EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 It was about two houi's after this that Jack Sheppard and 
 Edgworth Bess bade farewell to the friendly landlady and 
 left the inn. 
 
 Both felt much better, both bodily and mentally, and 
 as they walked along the high-road they discoursed with 
 lighter hearts upon the dangers and difficulties of their 
 situation. 
 
 But the prospect before them was dismal enough to 
 depress the spirits of any one. 
 
 The day, however, was very fine — unusually so for 
 England ; aud the sun's warm rays seemed to have a 
 beneficial effect upon their minds. 
 
 Jack and Edgworth Bess passed through the village, 
 but not without attracting a great deal of attention ; for 
 it was a remote, out-of-the-way place, where to see a 
 stranger was quite ah event. 
 
 It may be imagined, then, that our friends were glad 
 enough when the hamlet and all its prying inhabitaats 
 were left behind, and they once more got out into the 
 open country. 
 
 They walked along briskly, for each felt as though they 
 had received a fresh lease of life. 
 
 Jack, finding no traces of Bluesldn, endeavoured to per- 
 suade his companion that the best thing they could do 
 would be to proceed direct to London. 
 
 But Edgworth Bess seemed to shrink with horror at 
 the bare idea of returning to the metropolis, which had ever 
 been a place of so much dauger to her. 
 
 " Let us stay here a little longer," she said. " It is not 
 worth while to be too precipitate. If Blueskin is a 
 prisoner we cannot aid him, and you said just now you had 
 no doubt about his ability to effect his escape." 
 
 "I did, but" 
 
 " Aud we have no proof that he is a prisoner. It may 
 be that he strayed so far in the darkness as to miss his 
 road, and he may at this moment be at the farm-house." 
 
 Jack shook his head at this supposition. 
 
 " We ought not to stray too far from it," he said, " for 
 fear some trivial circumstance may have occurred to 
 prevent Blueskin from returning. If such prove to be the 
 case, the first place to which he would make his way would 
 be the farm-house." 
 
 " Of course it would. No, Jack, we will not go to 
 London — at all events, not yet. Let us give Blueskin a 
 chance of rejoining us." 
 
 "As you will, dearest. I will never do anything which 
 is contrary to your inclinations ; and I faucy that, after all, 
 I shall be doing best by consenting to your opinion." 
 
 " I cannot banish the thought that we shall ere long 
 meet with him." 
 
 " I hope we shall, for suspense and anxiety are two 
 things I am ill-calculated to bear. 1 would give much for 
 some definite information." 
 
 " It would be satisfactory." 
 
 At this moment they heard a crashing noise, and under 
 the influence of surprise they came to a sudden stop. 
 
 It was as though some one had forced a way through a 
 dense mass of vegetation. 
 
 The sound was exactly like the rustling of boughs, and 
 they sprang back to the place from which they had been 
 removed. 
 
 And this was really it, for before eit her had time to make 
 any remark whatever, one of the largest dogs they had 
 ever seen dashed through the hedgerow that skirted the 
 right-hand side of the road. 
 
 Our friends did not move, nor did they particularly 
 
 notice the dog. 
 
 Their principal attention was fixed upon the gap in the 
 hedge through which he had burst, and through which 
 they expected the owner of the dog to make his appear- 
 ance. 
 
 But no one came, nor was there the least sound to incb> 
 cate the approach of any one. 
 
 Struck with surprise at this — for Jack was sufficiently 
 well acquainted with the habits of the dog to know that 
 he is rarely seen alone — he turned his attention to the 
 huge animal. 
 
 It was certainly the largest he had seen. 
 
 It was crouching down by the side of the road close 
 to the gap in the hedge through which he had come. 
 
 His tongue was lolling from his mouth, and his lips were 
 covered with white, flakey foam. 
 
 His eyes were expressive of the greatest ferocity, and 
 there was something intimidating about his whole appear- 
 ance. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was much alarmed, and clung tightly to 
 Jack's arm for protection. 
 
 The dog fixed his eyes uryv. them, and it was pretty 
 certain that they would urn be able to make the least 
 movement without attracting bis observation. 
 
 Still Jack saw nothing to produce alarm in the look of 
 the dog. 
 
 He seemed much exhausted, as though he had run a 
 long way and got heated. 
 
 His fiercely gleaming eyes, however, produced a rather 
 uncomfortable sensation. 
 
 But ho by no means shared in the alarm of his compa- 
 nion. 
 
 " Do not be afraid," he said. " The dog will not harm 
 us if we do not interfere with it. Lean upon me. I will 
 walk past him on the opposite side of the road. He will 
 not harm us then." 
 
 " Oh ! Jack, see how fierce he looks — how like a wild 
 animal he seems." 
 
 " He does indeed ; but I should be a match for him, 
 never fear, if he attempts to interfere with us." 
 
 And as he spoke, Jack took from his pocket a loaded 
 pistol, which he calmly placed upon half-cock. 
 
 lie knew that the priming was in proper order, because 
 only a short time had elapsed since he placed fresh 
 powder in the pan. 
 
 However, he loosened it, for fear it should have caked 
 in any way, and then held the weapon in such a position 
 as to be ready for immediate service. 
 
 The dog had fixed his eyes upon Jack in the peculiar 
 manner for which the animal is remarkable. 
 
 He did not lose sight of one of Jack's motions. 
 
 Whether it was that he felt they were of a threatening 
 nature to himself, or whether there was something in 
 Jack's face which his instinct told him boded no good to 
 him, would be hard to say ; but, certain it is, that he 
 gave utterance to a low growl, in which, however, thero 
 was much fierceness. 
 
 Of this, however, Jack took no sort of notice. 
 
 Passing his arm round the waist of his companion in 
 such a manner as to support her steps aud lead her on, 
 he advanced a few steps. 
 
 But though he got as far on the side of the road oppo- 
 site to that upon which the dog was as he could, the 
 fierce-looking brute growled still more loudly, and seemed 
 determined not to allow them to pass. 
 
 And now Jack saw, as he looked towards him, that his 
 eyes were bloodshot, and gleamed with an unnatural kind 
 of lustre. 
 
 His jaws, too, seemed as though they were fixed <^pen. 
 
 Still, although he saw these signs, Jack had no idea of 
 what they meant. 
 
 Had he done so, he would have adopted a far differeut 
 course of action to what he did. 
 
 He would shrink not only from encountering such a 
 frightful danger himself, but also from exposing EJg- 
 worth Bess to it. 
 
 The dog was mad ; suffering, indeed, under that strange 
 disease known by the misnomer of hydrophobia. 
 
 Jack spoke to the dog in a manner which he calculated 
 would soothe it, but the brute only evinced fresh signs of 
 fierceness. 
 
 Still Jack advanced. 
 
 It would not do for their progress to bo stayed by a 
 dog.
 
 iT— 
 
 BLTJESK.1N: A ROMANCE. 
 
 457 
 
 
 , 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD AND HIS SON IN THE LAWYER'S CHAMBERS.] 
 
 Edgwortb Bess felt a fresh accession of tenor. 
 
 Jack, however, fixed bis eyes constantly upon tbe brute. 
 
 Hitherto tbe dog bad been lying down, but dow bo rose 
 to bis feet. 
 
 His size was immense. 
 
 His breed seemed to be some kind of mastiff. 
 
 Suddenly, and just wben Jack and bis companion arrived 
 opposite to wbere be stood, be uttered one fierce, sbarp 
 bowl, and darted forward. 
 
 Of tbe bostility of bis intentions tbere coiil-j «>e no kind 
 of doubt. 
 
 Passing by Jack, wbo probably be rather shrank from 
 encountering, be sprang upon Edgwortb Bess. 
 
 The poor girl threw up her arms, and to that circum- 
 stance she probably owed her life. 
 
 Tbe dog fixed his teeth in her thick dress. 
 
 More than this he bad not time to do, for, though Jack 
 was taken aback bv tbe suddenness with which the attack 
 was made, he quickly recovered himself. 
 
 He cocked tbe pistol, and, taking a careful aim, puller* 
 the trigger. , . .,.,., 
 
 To have missed would almost have been au impossibility. 
 
 Tbere was a loud report, and, ere its echoes had died 
 away, the dog lay at full-length on the ground. 
 
 The bullet had passed through his brain, thus causiug 
 instant death. , 
 
 The alarm of Edgwortb Bess wns naturally very great, 
 and it was with great difficulty that she kept herselt Irom 
 
 -ft was only a consideration of Jack's danger that enabled 
 her to do so. , . . 
 
 But, as soon as be saw there wns nothing more tube 
 apprehended from the mad dog, Jack restored tbe cUfl. 
 charged pistol to his pocket, and turned all his attention 
 to soothing the apprehensions ot his companion. 
 
 In this he succeeded in a few moments, and hdgwortli 
 Bess cast a shuddering glance at the lifeless iorm ot bei 
 antagonist- 
 
 mo. 58.
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 "You hare another claim upon my gratitude," she said, 
 as she looked up into Jack's face with an expression that 
 Bent a thrill of pleasure through his whole hody. 
 
 "Do uot mention it," he 6aid. "Lean upon me, and 
 walk on. I am thankful tilings have been no worse. I 
 had no idea the dog was mad." 
 
 " Nor I. Do you think he was ? " 
 
 " I am quite sure of it. He had every symptom of 
 raging madness." 
 
 Bess shuddered when she thus realized the full extent 
 ©f the danger to which they had heen exposed. 
 
 " You are unhurt, Jack, are you not ? " sho asked, with 
 the greatest anxiety perceptible in her tones. 
 
 " Oh ! yes ; I am not hurt in the least. He did not 
 attempt to attack me. Are you sure that you have received 
 ko injury from his fangs f " 
 
 " Quite. He has torn my dress, but done no further 
 mischief." 
 
 " Let us be thankful for this narrow escape," ho said. 
 " We have need to be, for the danger was a terrible one." 
 
 " I tremble when I think of it." 
 
 " But, happily, it is over now, and wo have no further 
 cause for apprehension. And now, Bess, what are we to 
 do?" 
 
 " I would rather leave that to your judgment." 
 
 " Nay — nay. I do uot wish to rely upon myself, but 
 to obtain your opinion and advice. Alas ! what can have 
 become of Blueskin P " 
 
 "What, indeed?" 
 
 " I sadly fear that he has fallen into the hands of our 
 arch foe ; and, perhaps, at this moment he is perisbing for 
 the want of such assistance as we should bo able to give 
 him." 
 
 " Do not surmise anything so horrible. Let us cling to 
 hope until we are able to cling to it no longer. Perhaps 
 he returned to the ruined farm-house immediately after 
 our departure from it, and is now either waiting for our 
 return, or else is searching for us." 
 
 " I am afraid that is but a frail hope." 
 
 " Still it is a hope." 
 
 " It is. Shall we return, then, to this farm-house, and 
 see whether we can discover any traces of him ? " 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 "Well, agreed. I should not have proposed such a 
 thing myself, because I consider the place associated with 
 too much terror." 
 
 " Our adventures there were terrible," said Edgworth 
 Bess, " and I should be very loath to spend another night 
 in such a place." 
 
 " And I too. I would not for worlds." 
 
 "But it is daylight now, Jack. Suppose we were to 
 linger about the vicinity of the farm-house till nightfall, 
 and then, if Blueskin does not return by that time, we will 
 make up our minds as to what we will do next." 
 
 " Agreed. I am pleased to find 3 r ou able to talk over our 
 position with so much calmness. It would be "better, too, 
 I think, if we were to travel by night, 6ince we should 
 then be more likely to avoid suspicion." 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, they turned round and 
 retraced their steps. 
 
 But Jack did not wish to pass through the village 
 again, so he made a considerable detour on purpose to avoid 
 it. 
 
 He gained the high road again, and continue*! to pursue 
 it until tbe gate was reached. 
 
 It did not seem to have been opened since tl*ey had last 
 passed through it. 
 
 An air of silent desolation seemed to banc; over the 
 whole. 
 
 It was enough to strike a chill to any heart, and upon 
 the poor fugitives it had a more than ordinarily depressing 
 influence. 
 
 With a slow step tbey made their way up the weed- 
 yrown path which led to the main building. 
 
 On arriving, tbey could see no traces of a recent visit. 
 
 Pushing open the door, they entered the kitchen. 
 
 It was empty. 
 
 The wind moaned through the crevices in the walls with 
 a mournful sound. 
 
 Otherwise, all was still. 
 
 There was something so depressing to the spirits about 
 the appearance of this deserted kitchen that Jack could 
 aot prevail upon his cempaniou toeutei it or ev«n to linger 
 upon the threshold. 
 
 The last faint hope which had found a resting-place 
 about her heart was now destroyed, 
 
 Blueskin was not there, nor could sho bring herself to 
 believe that he had been there during their absence. 
 
 She felt the disappointment keenly, for she had all along 
 fancied he would return , 
 
 As for Jack, he could scarcely be said to feel disap- 
 pointed, for he had not anticipated finding his companion 
 there. 
 
 But when he saw that he really was not there, all those 
 dark forebodings which had hitherto found a home in his 
 heart returned with redoubled force. 
 
 That, by some means or other, ho bad fallen into the 
 clutches of Jonathan Wild, he felt confident. 
 
 If so, he would then be in London. 
 
 Jack feared to communicate to his companion the full 
 extent of his fears, but as tbe young girl looked up into 
 his countenauce she was able to tell with tolerable 
 certainty what was passing there. 
 
 She resigned herself to the worst, and burst into a flood 
 of despairing tears. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND EDGAVORTH BESS KESOLVE TO SET 
 OUT FOR LONDON IN SEARCH OF BLUESKIN. 
 
 Those tears fell like drops of molten lead upon Jack 
 Sheppard's heart. 
 
 He saw how sad and dejected his companion was, and 
 he was saddened by the knowledge that there was nothing 
 that he could do that would alleviate her distress. 
 
 And so he made no effort to check her tears. 
 
 After a little time, however, Edgworth Bess recovered 
 herself, and she looked up into Jack's face with a smile. 
 
 But it was such a sad one that it almost broke his 
 heart to see it. 
 
 Every time he looked at her, too, his bosom swelled 
 with grief, for he could not avoid noticing what havoc 
 her perils and privations were making of her health. 
 
 She was now little more than the shadow of what she 
 was when Jack saw her first. 
 
 But no word of complaint came from the heroic girl's 
 lips — she endured all her agony in silence. 
 
 Jack was not the less aware of it, though. 
 
 But he was powerless to effect any change. 
 
 He viewed with alarm the deathly pallor of her cheeks 
 — her sunken and lack-lustre eye — her pale, thin lips, and 
 her emaciated form. 
 
 By the desire of Edgworth Bess, tbey remained in the 
 vicinity of the haunted farm-house until nightfall. 
 
 She could not yet bring herself to abandon all hope. 
 
 They did not enter the ill-omened building, but for the 
 greater part of the day sat down upon a log of wood, 
 which commanded a view of the front door. 
 
 Here they watched and waited during the long hours 
 of the day, but not a single footstep came to disturb them 
 in their solitude. 
 
 The place was shunned by all the inhabitants of the 
 district. 
 
 All knew something of the terrible tragic cireumstauces 
 connected with it, and they would not have ventured near 
 for any consideration. 
 
 The fugitives were, then, safer here than they possibly 
 could be elsewhere. 
 
 But, great as their security might be, they could not 
 bring themselves to remain there while the situation of 
 their comrade was involved in so much doubt. 
 
 Both Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess placed great 
 reliance upon his resources and advice. 
 
 At length night came. 
 
 It set in cloudy, and when the sun sank, a chill wind 
 swept over the earth and moaned among the tree-tops. 
 
 It came afterwards in short and sudden gusts. 
 
 A kind of preternatural darkness seemed to obscure 
 the heavens, threatening a night of storm. 
 
 Jack Sheppard looked upon these symptoms of bad 
 weather with the greatest uneasiness. 
 
 His companion was not in a fit state to be exposed to 
 its inclemencies. 
 
 Sho importuned him as soon as it was dark to leave 
 the haunted house; nor was he unwilling to do this, 
 for the prospect of spending another night near it was 
 fur from agreeable to his feelings. 
 
 They had resolved to go hack to jOhJ a.
 
 BLDF.SKIN: k IvOMANCE. 
 
 459 
 
 - I 
 
 It was, so to speak, ruuuing into th« jaws of the lion, 
 but both felt they could no longer endure the suspense 
 and anxiety they felt with regard to Blueskiu's fate. 
 
 At whatever risk, they determined to kuow the worst. 
 
 They rendered their own chance of capture ten times 
 greater, but neither of them cared individually for that. 
 
 Having come to the determination to set out at nightfall 
 on their road to London to ascertain their comrade's 
 fate, they wei'e both calmer, and when the time came 
 they rose and set out upon their journey. 
 
 There was one circumstance which Jack did net mention 
 to Edgworth Bess, but which gave him the greatest 
 possible amount of uneasiness. 
 
 The money he had paid to the landlady of the " Well 
 of Content" for their accommodation and refreshment 
 had exhausted his purse. i 
 
 He had but a few coppers left. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, as he knew, had no mone^ whatever. 
 
 They were a long, long way from London. 
 
 Penniless, hungry, and tired, how were they to reacn it ? 
 
 This was the circumstance which gave Jack so much 
 uneasiness. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, he was confident, was quite unequal to 
 the task of walking to London. 
 
 Even if she set out, she would break down before she 
 had proceeded far. 
 
 Then, there was the length of time which this tedious 
 mode of progression would necessarily consume. 
 
 Time was an object, and a very important one too. 
 
 He wanted to reach London at the earliest moment, 
 otherwise he would arrive too late to attempt even to 
 intercept Jonathan Wild's plans. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 Money must be procured somehow and from some- 
 where, otherwise they would perish. 
 
 Silently and moodily, then, Jack Sheppard walked on 
 by the side of his companion, who in vain endeavoured 
 to draw from him the reason of his abstraction. 
 
 After gaining the high road, they proceeded for s^me 
 distance towards London. 
 
 The road was deserted, or nearly so. 
 
 Suddenly, however, there came upon their ears a 
 heavy, rumbling sound. 
 
 Almost at the same moment that they were conscious 
 of it, they perceived before them at some distance two 
 faint, starlike lights. 
 
 Jack knew in a moment that some vehicle was approach- 
 ing, probably a stage-coach. 
 
 He informed his companion as much. 
 
 The huge vehicle came rolling along at the rate of 
 full twelve miles an hour. 
 
 As it came nearer, Jack Sheppard drew aside, and got 
 as close to the hedge as possible. 
 
 He was anxious for the safety of his companion. 
 
 As the vehicle came nearer, Jack Sheppard's supposition 
 was found to be a correct one. 
 
 It was a stage-coach that was approaching. 
 
 But it was coming from London, not going towards it. 
 
 There was a flash of light, a rattle, and a rush, and then 
 the ponderous affair swept past them. 
 
 Jack made no remark concerning it, but his thoughts 
 were busy. 
 
 They ought to be in the stage-coach. 
 
 Edgworth Bess would then be able to reach London in 
 comfort. 
 
 But, alas ! they they had not the means. 
 
 There was only one mode by which Jack saw he could 
 obtain them. 
 
 And that was by waylaying and robbing the next tra- 
 veller they met. 
 
 But Edgworth Bess, he knew, would never consent to 
 the adoption of such a coarse as that. 
 
 Still, Jack did not despair of putting it into execution. 
 
 He considered his position was desperate, and that des- 
 porate means were requisite to overcome it. 
 
 At present, however, he could not conceive how ho was 
 to put his design into execution without the knowledge of 
 his companion. 
 
 But he trusted that the chapter of events would favour 
 him. 
 
 It may now be said that Jack had fully made up his 
 mind to stop the next passengei he met and take from him 
 what money might be required to pay their passage by 
 the stage-coach. 
 
 He was quite right in thinking that Edgworth Bi^s 
 would oppose herself to such a coursg of action, and there- 
 fore he forbore to say a word to her about it. 
 
 He endeavoured to distract her attention by talking 
 upon other subjects. 
 
 It seemed, though, that he was not to have an oppor- 
 tunity of putting his design into execution. 
 
 They did not meet with a single person, either mounted 
 or on foot. 
 
 Jack determined to stop no one but the latter. 
 
 The former would be too hazardous. 
 
 And now, as they continued on their way without meet- 
 ing with a single living creature, the courage and strength 
 of Edgworth Bess appeared to ebb away, and she hung 
 heavily on Jack's arm. 
 
 It was clear that she would not be able to proceed on 
 foot much further. 
 
 The poor girl was wearied to death, for though she had 
 had rest, it was not of the proper kind to recover her 
 from fatigue. 
 
 Oh ! how anxiously did Jack look out for some traveller 
 to make his appearance. 
 
 He was afraid, too, that he should hear the stage-coach 
 pass before ho was prepared to hail it, and if so he felt 
 that his vexation would exceed all bounds. 
 
 Along time would have to elapse before tbe second 
 coach made its appearance. 
 
 Perhaps twelve hours. 
 
 The reader may then be able to picture to himself the 
 anxiety which Jack suffered. 
 
 At length, however, to his inexpressible joy, ho saw in 
 the distance a light of some kind, though at first he was 
 unable to make out what it was. 
 
 It was some distance in advance. 
 
 Two things connected with it, however, soon became 
 evident. 
 
 One was that the light was in motion. 
 
 The other was that it was approaching them. 
 
 Edgworth Bess saw it, and pointed it out to Jack. 
 
 But he had seen it already, though he did not think fit 
 to telf her so. 
 
 With a curiosity equal in both, they looked towards this. 
 light, aud endeavoured to make out what it was. 
 
 But this they were unable to do. 
 
 From the height the light was from the ground, and 
 from the manner in which it was waved about, they con- 
 jectured that it must be carried by some oue who wa-3 
 walking. 
 
 But, if so, the individual must have been walking in a 
 very extraordinary manner, for the light cut many fantastic 
 capers. 
 
 At one moment it would appear to be stationary ; then 
 it would advance ; then retrograde ; while its height from 
 the ground varied to an extraordinary degree. 
 
 Jack's curiosity was strongly excited, so much so, that 
 he almost forgot his original intention. 
 
 A very short time elapsed, however, before the mystery 
 was cleared up, though what Jack saw elicited no sniail 
 amount of surprise. 
 
 There were two persons approaching. 
 
 The first carried in his hand a lighted torch, which 
 flickered about in the wind, and threatened every moment 
 to go out. 
 
 This man was dressed in the livery of a servant. 
 
 His behaviour and manner exhibited the utmost degree 
 of servility and obsequiousness. 
 
 He bowed at almost every step he took, and walked 
 backwards the whole of the way. 
 
 This accounted for the extraordinary motions of the 
 light. 
 
 The person who followed him appeared by his ciress aud 
 the behaviour of the servant to be »f very great distinction 
 indeed. 
 
 It was evident he thought so, too, for he walked along 
 in what he doubtless thought was a very dignified and im- 
 posing sort of way. 
 
 In his own mind he was clearly a man of great im- 
 portance. 
 
 His countenance bore an expression of deep vexation, as 
 though something had occurred which had displeased him 
 mightily. 
 
 He was addressing the obsequious servant, and, as he 
 drew nearer, Jack heard him say — 
 
 "Curse it! How much further have I to g«? I
 
 460 
 
 BIXESKIN: A ROMANCE 
 
 thoughi vou told me when the carriage broke down that 
 we were only a quarter of a mile from an inn, and here we 
 have come half-a-milo now, if we Lave como a. yard. I 
 can't see any signs of the inn. Curse you, James, where 
 is it?" 
 
 " A little further on, worthy and respected sir, replied 
 the servant, in the oiliest terms imaginable. " Only a 
 little further." „ 
 
 " Curse you ! you have done nothing but say that all 
 the while." , 
 
 " Have I, Sir William ? I am very sorry it I have done 
 wrong in any way, sir, very sorry indeed. I am sure no 
 one could regret more than I do the occurrence of the 
 unfortunate accident; but theu, ever honoured sir, accidents 
 will happen." 
 
 " But where's the inn, I say ? Curse walking, say I ! 
 James, d— n you, why don't you throw a light on the 
 ground, so that I shan't soil my dress by stepping into the 
 mud ? Oh ! d— n it, what's that ? " 
 
 The elegant gentleman had suddenly and unexpectedly 
 put his foot into a puddle, and the dirty water splashed 
 up on to his white silk stockings, and completely spoiled 
 the look of his magnificent shoes. 
 
 James immediately put on a look of great concern. 
 
 " Oh ! dear," he said, " what a sad pity ! " 
 
 " Sad pity be d— d ! it's all your fault, you villain ! Now, 
 what am I to do with my clothes in this state ? Answer 
 me that, you villaiu, what am I to do ? " 
 
 " Honoured sir, I know not ; but perhaps at the inn the 
 damage may be repaired." 
 
 " Oh ! curse the inn ! I wish I could see it." 
 
 " It's close at hand now, worshipful sir." 
 
 " Go on, then, and mind you show a light on the ground, 
 80 that I can see where I am walking." 
 
 " Yes, Sir William." 
 
 The strange pair passed on without either of them 
 taking the slightest notice of the fugitives. 
 
 It might be that they were both so deeply occupied with 
 themselves that they did not really see them. 
 
 " What do you think of that for a fine gentleman ? " 
 asked Jack, with assumed cheerfulness. 
 
 " I think him a contemptible wretch. How anyone can 
 be so affected I cannot conceive." 
 
 " It does seem ridiculous, but it is such creatures 
 as James who make these men what they really are." 
 
 " I suppose so. How he frowned upon him ! " 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " But the gentleman was beautifully dressed ! " 
 
 " He was, indeed. Doubtless he was on his way to some 
 party or other when his carriage broke down, and that is 
 the occasion of his vexation." 
 
 " Very Ukely." 
 
 " He is a wealthy person, I should think, judging by the 
 respect with which he was treated, and the valuables he 
 carried about him." 
 
 " Yes, and did you notice what a beautiful watch-chain 
 he had ? I saw it very plainly, for it fairly glittered in the 
 torch -light." 
 
 " Yes, I saw it too, and that reminds me " 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " He has got a good way down the road now, but it 
 don't matter. 
 
 " Whatever do you mean ? " 
 
 " I wish I had asked him what time it was, but it 
 isn't too late. You wait here a moment, and I will 
 run down the road after him. I will soon find cut what's 
 o'clock." 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCV. 
 
 JACK SIIEPPARD MAKES A GOOD BOOTY PROM SIR VHT.LIAM, 
 TO THE DISMAY OF EDGWORTH ^ESS. 
 
 Before Edgworth Bess could say a word, or makt any 
 attempt to detain him, as she assuredly would .have 
 done, Jack Sheppafd darted oif down the road in the 
 direction the gentleman and his servant had taken. 
 
 Seeing this, she did what was certainly the best thing 
 she could do, and that was to obey Jack's hasty injuue- 
 tionc, jind wait where she was until he returned. 
 
 At first no suspicion entered her mind that Jaui'S 
 errand was anything different to what be had stated it 
 to be. 
 
 But presently doubts began to cross her mind. l - 
 
 A turn in the road hid the gentleman from sight, and 
 Jack soon disappeared. 
 
 Her doubts, having once commenced, rapidly increased 
 in strength, more especially when some sounds, which 
 sounded like those of conflict, reached her ear. 
 
 Although she dreaded the worst, she was too terrified 
 to move, but sank down upon her knees in the roadway. 
 
 Leaving her thus, we will refer more particularly to 
 Jack's proceedings. 
 
 As the reader may be tolerably certain, his business 
 with the gentleman was something of more importance 
 than merely ascertaining what o'clock it was. 
 
 He had merely devised that as a stratagem to get away 
 from his companion, and a very clever one ho thought it, 
 I for he had been puzzling his brains to invent some reason 
 for turning back. 
 
 Chance, however, threw a good excuse in his way, and 
 he availed himself of it insfeutly. 
 
 But he set off with all possible speed, so as not to 
 allow Edgworth Bess any chance of opposing it. 
 
 When he turned round to run after the gentleman, he 
 just caught a glimpse of him as he passed round a bend in 
 the road. 
 
 Jack was fleet and light of foot, so he set on to ruu with 
 full speed, taking care, however, to tread on the tips of 
 his toes, so as to make as little noise as possible. 
 
 He soon came in sight of the gentleman again, and then 
 he proceeded with greater circumspection. 
 
 He did not want them to be aware of his presence 
 uutil he was, in a manner of speaking, actually upon 
 them. 
 
 There seemed to be a strong probability of his being able 
 to do this, for the servant was fully occupied with his 
 master, and the master was fully occupied with himself. 
 
 At length Jack conceived he was near enough for his 
 purpose. 
 
 He held a pistol in his hand, in readiness to do instant 
 execution if necessary. 
 
 Giving one leap forward, he alighted close to the pair, 
 and cried — 
 
 " Halt ! or you are both dead men ! " 
 These words were clearly and distinctly uttered, and it 
 was evident that they carried their full meaning with 
 them. 
 
 The servant and the gentleman stopped at once. 
 The light of the torch fell full upon Jack's figure. 
 " Murder ! " cried the obsequious footman, as soon as 
 he perceived him. " Murder ! Thieves ! Help ! " 
 
 " Stop your row," said Jack. " Oh ! you won't. Then 
 take that ! " 
 
 He seized the torch as he spoke, and, wresting it easily 
 from the footman's feeble grasp, with oue well-directed 
 thrust sent the lighted end into ki« wide-open mouth. 
 
 The elfect of this was, not only to extinguish the torch, 
 but to extinguish the fellow's cries also. 
 
 He plumped down upon the ground at once, and rolled 
 over and over in an extraordinary manner, while all the 
 time he gave vent to some inarticulate and hideous 
 groans. 
 
 Jack did not trouble himself any further with the foot- 
 man, as he knew him to be completely discomfited, but, 
 turning round, he clapped the muzzle of the pistol against 
 the forehead of the astonished gentleman. 
 
 " Now, sir," he said, " bo quick. Your life will be 
 spared upon one condition." 
 "Murder!" 
 
 " Silence. If you utter such a cry again, that moment 
 will be your last. Do you want me to spare your life ? " 
 
 " Of couiTc T i^ 0, O u ! dear ! Could anything be more 
 unfortunate?" 
 
 " Silence, I say ! If you will hand over your purse, and 
 whatever other articles of a valuable character which you 
 carry about you, with the greatest dispatch, then your life 
 will be spared ; but if you refuse or linger, I shall blow 
 your brains out, and rifle ycur pockets afterwards at my 
 leisure." 
 
 The gentleman trembled visibly when he heard these 
 words, pronounced, as they we;:, with all the firmness 
 which Jack could throw into his voice. 
 " Spare my life !" he gasped, " spare my life ! " 
 " On the conditions named, and no other," replied 
 Jack; "fulfil them, and you are at liberty to depart 
 instantly." 
 
 "Oh! dear! oh! dear!" 
 
 I -
 
 BLUE3KI3 : A EOHASC*. 
 
 461 
 
 " No lamentations, bat be quick, for I am in a hurry ! 
 Now then, I shall have to help yon, I see." 
 
 With great dexterity, Jack proceeded to divest the 
 gentleman of several of the valuable articles he wore. 
 
 He slipped out his massive scarf-pin, and possessed 
 himself of his still more massive watch and chain ; then 
 he stripped his fingers of rings, and repeated his demands 
 for his purse. 
 
 Awed by Jack's manner, Sir William no longer hesitated, 
 but, plunging his hand into the inside pocket of his vest, 
 drew forth a pocket-book. 
 
 Jack took it eagerly, but he said— 
 
 " Not so fast ! not so fast ! You carry a purse in 
 addition to this pocket-book, I feel confident ; so hand 
 it to mo at onco, and then I will suffer you to depart." 
 
 With very bad grace, Sir William drew a purse from 
 his breeches pocket. 
 
 Jack snatched it from his hand in a moment, an<J then 
 he said — 
 
 " Now be off. I will count four, and if you are not a 
 good way off by that timo, I shall fire. Now, quick ! Go !" 
 
 Considerably alarmed at this threat, Sir William set off 
 to run ; but he forgot all about the obsequious James, 
 who lay prostrate in the roadway. 
 
 The consequence was, that he caught his foot against 
 his extended body and fell over him, measuring his full 
 length upon the ground. 
 
 He scrambled up again, however, almost before Jack 
 was aware of what had taken place, and set off at full 
 speed. 
 
 Obsequious James uttered a howl, and that reminded 
 Jack of his existence. 
 
 " Get up," he said, dealing him a no very gentle kick 
 iu the ribs as he spoke. " Get up, you rascal, and ruu 
 after your master there, or, if you don't, you are a dead 
 footman." 
 
 James heard these words, and understood them too. 
 
 He sprang alacriously to his feet, and set off after his 
 master at a speed that would havo enabled him to win 
 any race in Christendom. 
 
 Jack could not forbear laughing heartily at this adven- 
 ture, which promised to be very profitable to him. 
 
 He jingled the purse, which he still held in his hand ; 
 and to judge by its weight, it must have contained a large 
 sum of mouey. 
 
 He did not stop to examine it, however, but at once 
 consigned it to his pocket, together with the pistol whk-h 
 had rendered him such good service. 
 
 With a heart much lighter than he had felt for some 
 time back, Jack hastened along the road towards tho 
 spot where he had left Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He began to feel some apprehensions for her safety, 
 and to wish he had not left her, now that the necessity for 
 doing so no longer existed. 
 
 Iu a low tone of voice, he ventured to call upon her 
 name. 
 
 " Bess ! Bess ! " he cried, " where are you ? Speak ! 
 It is I — Jack. I am here. Speak ! " 
 
 All was still. 
 
 His heart seemed for a moment to cease to beat. 
 
 But, recovering himself with an effort, he repeated his 
 cry, and this time met with a response. 
 
 With his mind relieved from a terrible weight, he 
 hurried along the road, and then found that he had not 
 gone far enough. 
 
 Wo have said that, after his depaiter^ Edgworth Bess 
 had heard the sounds of conflict, and had sunk aowra &(*/& 
 her knees. 
 
 It was in this position that Jack Sheppard found her. 
 
 He hastened to raise her to her feet. 
 
 " Oh Jack ! Jack ! " she exclaimed, recoiling from him, 
 " what has happened ? " 
 
 "Nothing!" replied Sheppard, who was filled with 
 apprehension by her manner. 
 
 " Oh, Jack ! how can you make me such a reply as that? 
 I heard the sounds of conflict." 
 
 " Of conflict ? " 
 
 " Ye3 ! do not attempt to deny it ; I know too well what 
 you have done, Jack. You have committed another 
 robbery." 
 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 " How can you be so wicked and so foolish ? I had no 
 idea of your intentions until it was too late, or else I 
 should have intercepted you. But now" 
 
 " Bess ! " said Jack earnestly, " hear me first, but do 
 not judge me ! Will you hear me ? " 
 
 " What have you to say ? " 
 
 "To justify my conduct." 
 
 " You cannot do that. " 
 
 " Will you give me the opportunity ? " 
 
 " To justify a robbery — impossible ! " 
 
 " Bess, hear me ; hear me, I beseech you ! Can you not 
 comprehend our position ? Blueskin 'is a prisoner in 
 Wild's house in London." 
 
 " How do you know that ? " 
 
 " I have n» proof, but that is my conviction. Without 
 such aid as we could afford him he may perish. We are 
 here alone, helpless, penniless ; we must get to London. 
 From that place we are distant very many miles." 
 
 " Enough, enough ! " 
 
 " Nay, hear me out. You are weary — so weary that you 
 feel you cannot walk another mile. We have no means of 
 riding or of paying for a shelter ; besides all which, (hero 
 is the necessity for our reaching London with the least 
 possible delay." 
 
 " I know all that, Jack ; but still that all is far, very 
 far from justifying your crime; no circumstances could 
 justify it." 
 
 " Nay, nay ! you saw that fop — he elicited your con- 
 tempt. I have taken from him nothing more than he can 
 well spare. He will never feel his loss, and we shall be 
 able to reach London with speed and comfort." 
 
 "Not with comfort, Jack— not with comfort ! Oh! Jack, 
 I would rather have sacrificed my life than you should 
 have committed this last crime." 
 
 " These scruples are unworthy of you." 
 
 " No, Jack, they are not ! If you love me you will make 
 all the speed you can after that gentleman aud restore 
 him the articles of which you have despoiled him ! " 
 
 "Nay, Bess, listen to me; such a course would be 
 perilous in the extreme ; no one would believe iu my inten- 
 tions, and I should be assuredly taken prisoner." 
 
 " Alas ! alas!" 
 
 " Come, Bess, cheer up; you make more of this than the 
 event really deserves. Had it been my first offence the 
 case would have been different, but now one more can't 
 much matter." 
 
 " Oh! Jack. You will break my heart if you talk like 
 that, you will indeed." 
 
 "No, no!" 
 
 " But you will. And do you for a moment think that 
 you are likely to succeed in your designs if you resort to 
 crime and violence as tho means of accomplishing them ? 
 Oh ! no, no. Until you change, until you cast aside this 
 mistaken policy, we shall never prosper! " 
 
 The poor girl could go no further. 
 
 Sobs and tears choked her utterance. 
 
 " You are ungrateful," said Jack. " It has been for 
 your sake that I have done what I have, not for my 
 own." 
 
 " Then, if I am to be the means of causing you to 
 commit crime, it is best that we should part, and that 
 at once, before further mischief is done. Farewell ! " 
 
 " Never ! never ! I cannot suffer you to part from me 
 thus. I will not do so. What has been done cannot be 
 recalled. What would you have me do ? " 
 
 Bess made no reply, but endeavoured to release her 
 hand from the strong grasp which Jack kept upon it. 
 
 This, however, she found to be impossible. 
 
 Jack ^csfcisued— 
 
 * Would you have me cast this money in the road now 
 that I have obtained it ? Surely no. Your own good 
 sense must shrink from such an act as that, when we 
 are so badly off for money as we are. The deed is done! 
 Let us now turn it to the best advantage." 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 " What, dearest ? " 
 
 " I am convinced that until you change your tactics 
 wo shall never succeed. Look at your scheme for 
 obtaining those ingots of silver. What trouble and 
 dangei they brought us into without doing us the least 
 good, for we lost them after all. No, Jack; the curse 
 of stolen property clung to them, and produced nothing 
 but misfortune to their possessors." 
 
 " What shall I do ? " 
 
 " Jack, we are struggling for justice ; but how can we 
 reasonably lay claim to it when we are ourselves violators 
 of its precepts ? It is monstrous and ridiculous."
 
 46S 
 
 BLUE8KIN: A TIOMANCB. 
 
 " But you have not told me what I am to do." 
 
 " I adjure you to forsake such w»ys. No longer render 
 yourself obnoxious to the laws of yonr country." 
 
 " Your will is my law." 
 
 "Fling away, then, all those things wuich you ba% r e 
 taken, liely upon it, if you do so, our position will be 
 better." 
 
 " Hark ! " cried Jack. " What is that ? " 
 
 A rumbling sound came upon their ears, and the next 
 moment the stage-coach going towards London came 
 round the bend in the road. 
 
 Bess was silent., ana looked at the vehicle. 
 
 She was not prepared, however, for what Jack was 
 about to do. 
 
 He hailed the coach, and, before she had time to utter 
 any remonstrances, it stopped, the door was opened, and 
 Jack lifted her iu, almost by main force. 
 
 Ere she could recover her composure, the vehicle was 
 set in motion again, and then, leaning back in her seat, 
 she clasped her hands over her face, and burst into a 
 passionate flood of tears. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCVI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND HIS SON VISIT THE LAWYER'S 
 CHAMBERS IN THE TEMPLE IN SEARCH OF THE MISSING 
 PAPERS. 
 
 " Oh ! you're taking it easy at last, I see." 
 
 Such was the remark made by Wild, junior, on the 
 night of the projected expedition to the Temple, when, on 
 descending the stairs, fully equipped, he found his 
 respected parent sitting down in an attitude of deep 
 thought. 
 
 Jonathan raised his head, and glared fiercely at him — 
 fiercely enough, indeed, to have intimidated anyone. 
 
 But Wild, junior, was not very easily intimidated, so, 
 taking no notice at all, he walked across the room and sat 
 down in a chair opposite his father. 
 
 For a moment the precious pair looked at each other in 
 silence. 
 
 George was the first to speak. 
 
 " Well, guv'uor," he said, " easy does it, you know ; 
 but, whenever you are ready, I am waiting." 
 
 " What hour is it P " growled the thief-taker, 
 
 "About half-past ten." 
 
 " Then it's about time we started." 
 
 " Just as you think proper, guv'nor." 
 
 " Are you armed ? " 
 
 "Yes. Are you?" 
 
 " I am." 
 
 " But, gnv'nor, you don't expect we shall have to make 
 a fight of it, do you ? " 
 
 " I don't anticipate such a thing, but we ought to be 
 prepared." 
 
 " Of course. Always guard agaiust accidents." 
 
 Jonathan smiled grimly. 
 
 " Are you sure," asked his son, after a moment's pause, 
 " that you know just whereabouts this lawyer's chambers 
 are in the Temple ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. No. 12, Pump-court. Third floor." 
 
 " Oh ! that's the address ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How did you find it out ? " 
 
 " I have once been there." 
 
 "Better and better. We shan't have to go beating 
 about the bush so much." 
 
 " It is an advantage, certainly." 
 
 " A very great one. Why, you will be able to walk 
 right up to the door of his chambers without the least 
 delay or hesitation." 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 " And I daresay, now, on the occasion of your visit, you 
 took notice of the fastenings on the door, thinking that, 
 sometime or other, perhaps, a little knowledge on the 
 point would be valuable." 
 
 Jonathan grinned in his usual disagreeable fashion 
 when anything of a complimentary character was said to 
 him. 
 
 " I have some recollection on the point, but that don't 
 matter now. Time is going on. Wo must be starting." 
 
 " As I observed before, guv'nor, when you are ready I 
 am waiting." 
 
 " Let as be off at once, then." 
 
 Jonathan rose to his feet as he spoke; his son imme- 
 diately followed his example. 
 
 Without any farther delay, they went down stairs, and 
 out at the front door into Newgate-street. 
 
 As they gained the pavement, they heard St. Sepulchre's 
 church strike the hour of eleven. 
 
 This was a 6igual for them to quicken their steps. 
 
 Jonathan Wild led the way, in almost a direct line, to 
 his destination. 
 
 The distance was not very great. 
 
 He entered the Temple by the gate near Temple Bar, 
 because, as he well knew, the others were closed before 
 this hour. 
 
 Upon arriving at this place, he found even this gate was 
 closed ; but the watchman was there, and he lost no time 
 in summoning him. 
 
 (i There's no admittance to the Temple at this hour," 
 said the watchman, who saw at a glauce that the appli- 
 cants for admission were not ordinary inhabitants of the 
 place. 
 
 He had the curiosity, however, to raise his lantern to 
 look who it was that sought an entrance at such an 
 unusual hour. 
 
 As he did this, Jonathan Wild took off his hat, 
 and allowed the whole of his physiognomy to be ex- 
 posed. 
 
 The light of the watchman's lantern fell in full 
 force upon his countenance, whic^ Jonathan screwed up 
 into a hideous shape. 
 
 The watchman knew him. 
 
 That wa3 evident by the kind of fright which he 
 exhibited, and the rapid alteration which his manner 
 underwent. 
 
 "Oh ! dear," he gasped. " Is it really you, Mr. Wild ? 
 I didn't know you at first, sir ; indeed I didn't. What did 
 your honour's worship please to want ? " 
 
 " Admittance," said Jonathan, sharply. 
 
 " Oh! dear, yes, sir; of course. You can have admittance 
 to the Temple at any hour you think proper. Wait a 
 moment, worshipful sir, and I will go and fetch the keys. 
 I won't be a moment, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Be off, then ! " 
 
 The old watchman hobbled off under the gateway, and 
 Wild, junior, touched his father on the arm, as he said — 
 
 " I say, guv'nor." 
 
 " What now ? " 
 
 " Don't think you have gone the best way to work." 
 
 " How do you mean P " 
 
 " We are on secret service." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " Then, you should have kept your visit a secret. When 
 the papers are missed, this will be recollected." 
 
 " Bah ! " 
 
 " What do you mean by that ? " 
 
 " Why, that it's more than the watchman's life is worth 
 to say I have been here if I caution him to keep the 
 matter a secret." 
 
 "Oh!" 
 
 " Didn't 'you see how eager he was to let me iu ? " 
 
 " Yes. I suppose, then, guv'nor, you happen to know 
 one or two thiug3 that he would not like to be madt 
 public ? " 
 
 " That's it. " 
 
 " Well, guv'nor, I really will give you credit for being 
 what I always said you were — a wonderful mau." 
 
 " Hush ! here he comes." 
 
 There was the sound of footsteps, and the faiut flash- 
 ing of a light. 
 
 Jonathan and his son both relapsed into silence. 
 
 " Here's the key, respected sir," said the watchman, 
 thrusting it with nervous eagerness into the lock j " here's 
 the key — that's it." 
 
 He opened the gate. 
 
 The two Wilds passed through in a moment. 
 
 " Fasten it after us," said the thief-taker. 
 
 " All right, sir." 
 
 The gate was reloeked. 
 
 "Can I show you any where, sir ? " asked the watch- 
 mau. 
 
 " Yes, come here a moment ; I want to speak to you." 
 
 The watchman drew close. 
 
 As soon as he was near enough, Jouathan clutched 
 him with painful tightness by the arm and drew him 
 towards him. 
 
 Then, putting his mouth close to the watchmau's ear, 
 whose face was now the very oicture of affright, he said—
 
 BLUESKiN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 "John Gordon." 
 
 "Ye— yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Do you think you shall rceollect this visit of mine : " 
 
 " Ye— yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Very well, then. I want it kept a secret. Do you 
 understand ? " 
 
 "Ye— yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 These few trembling words were all he seeded to bave 
 the power to utter. 
 
 " I say, I want my visit bere to-night kept a secret," 
 repeated Jonathan. " No one is aware of it but yourself. 
 If, however, I find that it becomes known at any time, I 
 tball lay the fault to you. Do you bear ? " 
 
 " Ye— yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Then I shall bring forward that little affair of the 
 communion-service which was stolen from the sacristy. 
 You know all about that, John Gordon ? " 
 
 "Mercy, Mr. Wild, have mercy." 
 
 " Of course, I shall have mercy, but only just as long as 
 you keep the secret of my presence here to-night." 
 
 With these words, Jonathan released his hold of the 
 watchman's arm, and strode away into the recesses of the 
 building. 
 
 John Gordon sank down in such a state of absolute 
 fright that it was really pitiable to see him. 
 
 Jonathan was right in thinking he could trust him to 
 keep his secret. 
 
 The thief-taker was well aware whereabouts Pump- 
 court was situated, and he went towards it with a rapid 
 and confident step. 
 
 Having settled the matter of the watchman in what he 
 considered was a highly satisfactory manner, he gave way 
 to a little elation. 
 
 He turned to the left, into the narrow place known by 
 the name of Pump-court. 
 
 Proceeding to its extremity, he paused before a door 
 which stood at one corner. 
 
 This door stood wide open, after the usual custom, and 
 a flight of dark, steep stairs was disclosed beyond. 
 
 Jonathan beckoned to his son to follow him, and, as 
 lightly as foot could fall, made his way up the staircase. 
 
 But, in spite of all his caution, the woodwork would creak 
 beneath bis feet. 
 
 This, however, was nothing to be alarmed at, for if any. 
 one bad been in any of the chambers and heard them 
 ascending, they would have paid no attention to % circum- 
 stance which occurred so frequently. 
 
 The third floor was at length reached, and here 
 Jonathan paused. 
 
 The place was in almost utter darkness, but his memory 
 served him well ; and, assisted by it and by his eyesight, 
 he made out the position of the door. 
 
 Jonathan, however, before he advanced a step, pressed 
 something into bis son's hands. 
 
 " It's a mask," he said, in a faint whisper ; " put it on, 
 and then, if we should happen to be surprised, our features 
 will not be recognised." 
 
 George Wild took the article in silence, and put it on ; 
 while, by the movements of his father, he could tell he was 
 doing the same thing. 
 
 As soon as he had concluded this operation, Jonathan 
 stole silently across the landing in the direction of the 
 door, and placed his ear against the panel. 
 
 He listened attentively, but no sound from within 
 reached his ears. 
 
 At length he was satisfied, by the dead silence that 
 prevailed, that there was no one in the apartment beyond. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, he felt for the 
 fastenings. 
 
 There was a knob which be turned, but the door did 
 not yield, thus showing that it was either locked or 
 bolted. 
 
 Wild conjectured that the latter was more likely to 
 prove the case. 
 
 The lock he knew, by a previous observation, to be nothing 
 but a clumsy common one ; so he did not even trouble to 
 find a skeleton key, as he might have done, but inserted 
 a picklock into the keyhole. 
 
 In the use of this, and, indeed, of all other burglarious 
 instruments, Jonathan Wild was an adept. 
 
 He exhibited his skill on tLe present occasion, for 
 having rattled the pick in the lock lor a moment, there 
 was a sharp snap, v.l.k-h showed that the bolt of the 
 ock had been shot W.k. 
 
 After the performance of this feat, be remained silent 
 and listening; but nothing of an alarming character 
 reaching his ears, he once more ventured to turn the 
 knob. 
 
 To his gratification, the door yielded. 
 
 He crossed the threshold in a motnenr, with his son 
 close at his heels, and then he closed the door after him. 
 
 His first injunction was to his son, whom he bade light 
 the lantern. 
 
 While be wa3 thus occupied, the thief-taker himself 
 passed bis band over the door, and quickly encountered a 
 bolt, which he hastily shot into its socket. 
 
 They were then secure from intrusion in that quarter. 
 
 By the time he had done this, Wild, junior, had lighted 
 the lantern, which soon gave forth a bright and steady 
 light. 
 
 It was with the aid of this that the delightful pair took 
 a look about them. 
 
 They found themselves in an apartment fitted up as an 
 office. 
 
 It was quite vacant. 
 
 " This is the outer office, where the clerk sits," whis- 
 pered Wild. "I don't suppose we shall find what we 
 want here ? " 
 
 " There is another room, then, guv'nor ? " 
 
 " Yes, that is where Mr. Mudford himself sits and holds 
 his consultations." 
 
 " That is the place for us, then. Where is it P " 
 
 " Yonder is the door." 
 
 "Good. I see it." 
 
 " Be cautious. There might, perchance, be some one 
 in the inner room, though it is not very likely ; still, we 
 cannot be too careful." 
 
 " Right, guv'nor." 
 
 On tiptoe they now crossed the outer office, and 
 approached the green-baize door leading into the iuuor 
 one. 
 
 At this Wild again listened, but finding no sound came 
 from within, he again came to the conclusion that the 
 offiee was empty. 
 
 Acting upon this supposition, he opened the door, which 
 he found yielded readily to his touch. 
 
 To bis surprise and consternation, however, a flash of 
 light came from within, and a voice cried out, in rather 
 startled accents — 
 
 "Who is there?" 
 
 A cui - se came from Jonathan Wild's lips, and he dashed 
 the door wide open. 
 
 As he did so, the interior of the inner office was 
 disclosed. 
 
 On the table was a reading-lamp, and it was from this 
 that the light Wild had seen had come. 
 
 Seated at this table, with a book before him, was a man 
 of about fifty years of age, whom Jonathan immediately 
 recognised as being the attorney belonging to the 
 chambers, Mr. William Mudford. 
 
 He started to his feet in alarm when be saw by what 
 kind of characters his sanctum was invaded, for the black 
 masks which Wild and his son had put on gave them a 
 verij ferocious appearance. 
 
 CHAPTEB, CCXOVII. 
 
 THE RESULT OF JONATHAN WILD'S SEARCH FOR TH2S 
 MISSING PAPERS IN THE LAWYER'S CHAMBERS. 
 
 Mr. William Mudford never experienced such a shock 
 of surprise in all his life before as he did when he saw the 
 thief-taker and his son appear upon the threshold. 
 
 Ho was engaged upon a very important case, which 
 was to come on for hearing the next day, aud he had 
 taken advantage of the silence of night to retire to his 
 chambers. 
 
 Determined not to be disturbed, he had dismissed his 
 clerk and locked the outer door. 
 
 Then he sat down to a quiet consideration of the 
 important business before him. 
 
 The case was a very intricate one, and bad cost him a 
 great deal of trouble ; besides, he had had only a short 
 time to " get it up," as lawyers phrase it. 
 
 To do this he had been compelled to sacrifice several 
 nights' sleep, and as he now sat poring over the pages b# 
 had fallen fust asleep. 
 
 It was during this slumber that Jonathan made In* *»?
 
 464 
 
 BLUESKItf: A ROMANCE. 
 
 in, and that without awaking him, though he disturbed 
 him slightly. 
 
 His first knowledge of Jonathan's appearance dated from 
 the time when the inner door opened. 
 
 Now, Mr. Mudford was rather a timid man. Indeed, in 
 a contest he greatly preferred to rely upon intellectual 
 rather than physical strength. 
 
 Therefore, when he saw the apparition of twu well- 
 armed men, both masked, he experienced extrem-j terror, 
 and would gladly have sunk through the floor if he could. 
 
 As for makiug any resistance, the thought of doing 
 8nch a thing as that never once entered into his head. 
 
 lie stood glaring at the intruders in ludicrous fright. 
 
 Jonathan Wild saw at a glance that there was nothing 
 to be apprehended from him. 
 
 Deliberately, then, he drew a pistol, and, cocking it, 
 said — 
 
 " Mr. Mudford, if you utter one cry, or make the least 
 attempt to escape, that moment will be your last. I will 
 plaster the wall with your brains." 
 
 At this awful threat, Mr. Mudford's terror visibly in- 
 creased. 
 
 His teeth chattered, and his knees smote each other. 
 
 Jonathan made a sign to his sou, who at once slipped 
 round the table and grasped Mr. Mudford by the arm, 
 who, apprehensive of the worst consequences, could not 
 refrain from uttering an ejaculation of fright. 
 
 " Be quiet," said Wild, junior. "Take it easy, and no 
 harm will be done you." 
 
 Somewhat comforted by this assurance, Mr. Mudford 
 prepared to submit himself to his fate with the best grace 
 he could. 
 
 Finding him thus tractable, he was quickly hound. 
 
 They tied him hand and foot, blindfolded him, and 
 gagged him. 
 
 While in this very helpless state they lifted him up, and, 
 carrying him to a remote corner of the apartment, they 
 laid him down. 
 
 Being thus disposed of, they turned their attention to 
 the original object of their visit. 
 
 The chamber was fitted up after the style of most 
 lawyers' offices. 
 
 On a shelf placed at no great distance from the ceiling 
 were several tin boxes, all of which were carefully secured 
 with padlocks. 
 
 They were those sort of boxes in which title-deeds and 
 other valuable papers are generally kept. 
 
 Every one had a name painted upon them. 
 
 Jonathan Wild took the lantern, and helding it up so 
 that its beams fell upon these boxes, he, one after the 
 other, perused the names which were painted upon them. 
 
 At length he found one upon which the two words, 
 " Donmull " and " Private " appeared. 
 
 Wild, junior, saw this box the same moment as his 
 father, and ho said — 
 
 " That's the ticket, guv'nor ! Wait a moment, and I'll 
 soon have the gentleman down."^ 
 
 He placed a chair in a convenient position as he spoke, 
 and, mounting upon it, he lifted down the box, which 
 was not so heavy as one would have thought from its 
 appearance. 
 
 Jonathan watched all those proceedings with very 
 great interest, and occupied himself, with holding the 
 light to his son. 
 
 What Mr. Mudford thought of; hese extraordinary 
 proceedings would be hard to say. 
 
 Wild, junior, descended from the chair with the box in 
 hia hands, and placed it down upon the table, though in 
 bo doing he overturned the reading-lamp, so that all the 
 light they now had proceeded from the dark lantern. 
 
 This, however, was quite sufficient for their purpose. 
 
 When the box was fairly on the table, Jonathan re- 
 signed the lamp to his son, and set about making an 
 examination of the lock. 
 
 It seemed to be of rather an intricate character, so 
 he did not stop to ti - y to unlock it, but took from his 
 pocket a small steel crowbar. 
 
 This was in two pieces, which screwed together. 
 
 They then formed a very formidable instrument. 
 
 Jonathan AVild inserted the point of this weapon in 
 between the lid ami the box, and, after some little 
 trouble, succeeded in forcing it open. 
 
 When the lid was raised, it disclosed a quantity of 
 papora. 
 
 Subduing whatever eagerness he might have felt to havo 
 turned these over hastily, Jonathan took them up one by 
 one, and put them down again after having carefully 
 examined them. 
 
 This was a rathei tedious operation, but Jonathan Wild 
 did not mind his trouble in the present instance, when so 
 much of importance was at issue. 
 
 As the quantity of papers in the box diminished, 
 however, Jonathan's anxiety increased in a corresponding 
 degree. 
 
 His son was scarcely less anxious than himself. 
 
 There were many papers of great interest connected 
 with the Donmull family, and Jonathan would gladly 
 enough have perused them, only his impatience would not 
 permit him to do more than take a casual glance at their 
 contents. 
 
 At length, having almost emptied the box, the thief- 
 taker espied, lying in the bottom of it, a small packet, 
 carefully tied up with red tape. 
 
 It was just such a parcel as he conceived the papers he 
 was in quest of would make. 
 
 He pounced upon it like a vulture. 
 
 He turned it over before he attempted to open it, but 
 there was no superscription of any kind to give him an 
 idoa of its contents. 
 
 The red tape with which it was secured was sealed in 
 many places with a large red seal. 
 
 This Jonathan examined, and found the impression to be 
 the crest of the Donmull family. 
 
 His heart beat high with hope. 
 
 At last he thought he had the important papers, 
 for which ho so ardently sought, securely withiu his 
 grasp. 
 
 Ho could scarcely command his impatience to open the 
 envelope, which, being made of parchment, would not 
 tear or give way in the least. 
 
 He was forced to open it in the proper way. 
 
 When the outer envelope was removed, Jonathan found 
 there was an inner one, upon which appeared some 
 writing. 
 
 Eagerly he attempted to decipher it, and called out to 
 his son, with an oath, to u.rect all the beams of the 
 lantern upon it. 
 
 The writing was very distinct. 
 
 The words were as follow : — 
 
 "I have instructed my solicitor, Mr. William Mudford, 
 to deliver this packet into ih« hands of a police- 
 magistrate in the event of the occurrence of certain 
 circumstances. The fact of this packet being received 
 ■will be sufficient evidence to slww that the circuri- 
 stances alluded to have taken place. It is my desire 
 that the papers enclosed be carefully perused, in ord< r 
 that tardy justice may be done to tlte persecuted suffering 
 one." 
 
 Jonathan Wild read these words half-aloud, and Wild, 
 junior, who looked over his shoulder, was scarcely able to 
 follow him as he read. 
 
 As soon as he had finished, the thief-taker looked up 
 into the countenance of his son. 
 
 Wild, junior, looked at him again, and then said — 
 
 "That looks remarkably like what you want, eh, 
 guv nor r 
 
 " I have them at last," said the thief -taker, in whose 
 mind there did not remain any doubt ns to whether the 
 packet really contained the papers of which he desired to 
 get possession. 
 
 Ho took that for granted. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if you have not got tno right pig 
 by the ear," said Wild, junior ; " but I would not make 
 cock sure." 
 
 " There is no doubt about the matter," said the thief- 
 taker; "the superscription is quite sufficient to set all 
 doubts at rest." 
 
 " It seems so. But I need not remind you, guv nor, 
 there's many a slip between the cup and the lip, so that 
 if I was iu your place I should not indulge in auy hopes 
 that might turn out to be false ones, but open the packet 
 at once." 
 
 There was generally sound common-sense in what 
 George Wild said. 
 
 In the present instance his father felt the full force and 
 weight of his remarks. 
 
 There was no fear of an interruption, and why should 
 he not seize upon the present opportunity to ascertain
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 465 
 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD ilAKES A PROPOSITION TO BLUESKIN.'f 
 
 whether the packet really contained the papers he thought 
 it did or not. 
 
 It would be better to feel quite confident upon the 
 point, though. Until his son spoke, it had never occurred 
 to Jonathan that there could be the slightest doubt. 
 
 Now, such could hardly be the case. 
 
 The inner envelope was merely a paper one, so the thief- 
 taker had little or no difficulty in tearing it open. 
 
 It contained several papers, all neatly folded up to the 
 same size, and tied round the middle with i-ed tape. 
 
 Each paper appeared to have its contents labelled upon 
 it outside. 
 
 The topmost one attracted Wild's instant attention. 
 
 The words written upon it were these — 
 
 "A confession of the means by which I removed the 
 infant heiress to the Donmull estates, and took possession 
 of them myself; together with other matters connected 
 with Jonathan Wild, of whose villainies there is a full 
 e&posure." 
 
 " Well, I'm d— d, guv'nor," ejaculated George, " you 
 
 have lighted on a sure thing at last, eh ? Just what I 
 told you. What's the next paper ? " 
 
 Jonathan turned them over rapidly. 
 
 " We will not stop to read them now," he said. " They 
 are certainly the papers I require," 
 
 " You are sure of that ? " 
 
 " Oh ! yes." 
 
 " That's all right. Didn't you say you wanted the will ? ' 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Is that among the papers in the packet ? " 
 i Jonathan once more turned them over, one by one. 
 
 "No," he said, at length. "The will does not appear 
 to be there." 
 
 " I should think it's rather important you should have 
 it, guv'nor." 
 
 " Highly important." 
 
 "So I think. Just look about you.^ We are more 
 likely to find it here than anywhere else." 
 
 Jonathan consented to this, and consigned the packet of 
 papera to his pocket. 
 
 No, 59,
 
 4 It 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROUANCB. 
 
 One or two more documents remained in the bottom of 
 the tin bos, and these Jonathan took up carefully, in the 
 hope each time of finding what he sought. 
 
 But eaGh time, after a brief examination of the paper, 
 be was forced to put it down disappointed. 
 
 The interest which Wild, junior, took in this affair was 
 really most intense, but no doubt ho had some peculiar 
 object in view. 
 Time, however, will determine. 
 
 At last there remained but one paper in the box, and 
 that Wild was certain, by the very appearance which it 
 presented, was not the will. 
 
 Nevertheless, he took up the paper and read the inscrip- 
 tion. 
 He was disappointed. 
 
 It was of not tho slightest value to him ; nor was it 
 even remotely connected with the matter in band. 
 " No go, guv'nor," said George. 
 " No, it is not there." 
 
 " And are you sure it is not among tho papers you have 
 taken out and put on the table P " 
 
 " Oh ! yes. Besides, you looked at them as well as 
 myself." 
 " I know I did." 
 
 " I don't_ think, then, that we are very likely to have 
 overlooked it." 
 
 " No ; and yet such a thing might have been. Look 
 here, cuv'nor. I'll tell you what we'll do." 
 " What ?" 
 
 •' Why, put tho papers back into the box again/one by 
 one, and then I should think we should be quite sure." 
 " It would be no harm to do so." 
 " None at all." 
 
 Jonathan Wild at once proceeded to ast upon this 
 hint. 
 
 He was not without a slight hope that tho document 
 had escaped his former search. 
 
 Each paper was now scrutinized with redoubled atten- 
 tion, but all in vain. 
 
 The last was put into the box, but no will could be 
 found. 
 
 '• That hope's gone, guv'nor. What shall we do 
 now?" 
 
 " I know not. Give up the search." 
 " Not a bit of it. I have an idea." 
 " What is it?" < 
 
 " If the will is in existence, I will wags? my life the 
 lawyer knows where it is to be found." 
 "Ah!" 
 
 "And, if so, we will threaten to blow his brains out 
 if he does not discover it to us, and, rely upon it, we 
 shall find the will." 
 
 " Of course," said Wild, and, a3 he spoke, he rushed 
 across the office to the corner where Mr. Mudford had 
 been deposited. 
 
 He uttered a cry of astonishment and rage, which 
 was echoed by one from his son. 
 The lawyer had disappeared. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND HIS SON EIXD THEMSELVES SUR- 
 ROUNDED EY DANGER IN THE TEMPLE CHAMBERS. 
 
 For about the space of a moment, Jonathan Wild and his 
 son gazed at each other with the most absolute amaze- 
 ment depicted on their countenances. _ 
 
 Thov could scarcely believe the evidence of their own 
 Benses. 
 
 By what magic could ho have got awny r 
 
 This question seemed a very difficult one, but, like a 
 good many apparently difficult questions, tho solution was 
 easy enough. 
 
 Tho lawyer had been bound very hastily, but yet the 
 thief-taker avid his son thought securely. 
 
 Such, however, was not the case. 
 
 For ono thing, they thought the lawyer's fright would 
 be too great to permit him to make the least effort towards 
 releasing himself. 
 
 Mr. Mudford, however, when he got a little calmer, 
 resolved to try what could be done. 
 
 Now, Jonathan and his son were both to,, intently occu- 
 pied in examining the contents of the two boxes to pay 
 any attention to slight sounds, or even to hear them. 
 
 For the moment they forgot all about tho lawyer. 
 
 He, however, quietly wriggled his arms about until 
 he had freed them from the bonds by which they were 
 confined. 
 
 When he onco had his hands at liberty, the rest was 
 perfectly easy. 
 
 The reader must not forget that Wild, junior, kad over- 
 turned tho lamp that was burning upon the table, and 
 extinguished it. 
 
 < This was a very favourable circumstance for the lawyer 
 since it was the means of preventing his movements bein^ 
 visible. ° 
 
 The light which eame from the lamp was diffused all 
 over the apartment, while that which came in through 
 the lens of the dark lantern was concentrated into one 
 beam of* light. 
 
 This, while it allowed the two Wilds to see what they 
 were about, plunged the remainder of the apartment into 
 a profound darkness. 
 
 Such being the state of affairs, it is ea.sy to conceive 
 that the attorney, having got his hands at liberty, was 
 not long in removing his other bonds. 
 
 He tore the handkerchief from his e ; yes, and removed 
 the gag from his mouth. -r 
 
 He saw how intent the two masked, intruders were upon 
 the contents of the box, and he resol ved upon the adoption 
 of a particular line of condnof. 
 
 The door which led ia% toa- outer office was only a 
 short distance from him, 
 
 It was ajar, too. 
 
 Towards this, then, he crawled inch, by inch. 
 
 The floor of the office was covered with a thick mat- 
 ting, so that he made no noise whatever in his progress. 
 
 He reached the door, and quietly opened it wide 
 enough to allow his body to pass through. 
 
 In fine, he managed to reach the outei ioor of the 
 chambers unperceived. 
 
 To withdraw the bolt and then descend the stairs, 
 with all the speed he was capable of making, were 
 things that followed each other as a matter of course. 
 
 Rushing along the court, he reached the outer gates 
 in the utmost disorder. 
 
 The porter who had admitted Wild had been in a 
 state of the greatest perturbation ever since. 
 
 He did not refuse, however, to open the gates and 
 allow Mr. Mudford to pass through. 
 
 That gentleman's idea was to run as fast as his legs 
 would carry him in the direction of Bow-street, at 
 which placo he made sure of finding a constable. 
 
 Just as he was passing under Temple Bar he met 
 three persons. 
 
 In the semi-darkness he recognised them. 
 
 They were Bow-street runners. 
 
 A few words served to make them acquainted with 
 the aspect of affairs, and they requested Mr. Mudford 
 to lead the way to his chambers with all speed,, when, 
 they assured hiin, they would soon capture the mid- 
 night intruders. 
 
 Comforted by this assurance — for there were papers of 
 immense value and importance in the boxe^, and he could 
 not tell which particular box it was they had taken flown 
 — he hastened back, desirous of preventing them getting 
 off with any documents in their possession. 
 
 The three constables and himself reached the outer door 
 of the chambers just at the moment when Wild and his son 
 discovered his absence. 
 
 Their position was more critical than they imagined. 
 
 The first impulse of both, as soon as they had recovered 
 somewhat from their suiprise, was to rush into the outer 
 office, for they did not conceive it possible that tho 
 attorney had got any further than that. 
 
 As soon as They entered it, however, tho door leading on 
 to tho lauding at the top of the stairs was dashed open, and 
 the officers entered the apartment. 
 
 Tiiey saw Jonathan and his son, and the precious pair saw 
 them. 
 
 For a moment tho great thief-ta'.rer was taken aback— 
 eo great did the suddenness of the attack surprise him. 
 
 But, recovering himself, he beat a precipitate retreat 
 into tke inner office, and, closing the door, bolted it after 
 him. 
 
 He was only just in time, for the officers came with a 
 tremendous rush against it, which threatened to burst it 
 from its hinges. 
 
 By this time Jonathan as fully comprehended wkat had
 
 BLTTESKIN : A BOMANOB. 
 
 467 
 
 taken place as though he had been an eye-witness o,f the 
 whole of it. 
 
 What wa3 he to do ? 
 
 Should he adopt the bold course of action of pro- 
 claiming at once who he was, and preferring a charge 
 against the attorney of having treasonous papers in his 
 possession P 
 
 That was his first idea, but he discarded it as soon as 
 it was formed. 
 
 He wished to keep secret, if he possibly could, the 
 fact of his having paid a visit to the Temple on that 
 particular evening. 
 
 Accordingly having seen that all had been done towards 
 securing the green-baize door that could be done, he 
 looked all round him in search of some means of making 
 his escape. 
 
 But none presented themselves. 
 
 He ran first to the window. 
 
 He saw that it commanded a view of the Temple- 
 gardens, with the Thames beyond ; but the distance 
 to the ground was something alarming. 
 
 Nor could he see any means by wLic-h he cou'd I 
 accomplish a descent. / 
 
 In the meantime the police-officers hammered away at 
 the door, and called upon them to surrender; but they 
 made no attempt to break into the room. 
 
 They had two desperate men to deal with, they felt 
 confident ; and, having been assured that it was a matter 
 of impossibility for them to leave the inner ehamber, 
 where they had sought refuge, they determined to im- 
 prison them, and despatched Mr. Mudford- for reinforce- 
 ments. 
 
 Had Jonathan Wild been aware of this, he would have 
 set about making bis escape with much greater coolness 
 than he did. 
 
 A thorough examination of the room having failed to 
 show him any means by which it could be left, he was, as 
 a matter of course, driven back to the window. 
 
 As he looked down, he thought it impossible to reach 
 the ground without running a much greater risk of break- 
 ing his neck than he felt inclined to do. 
 
 In this opinion he was well supported by his son. 
 
 Peering down, however, they perceived that the sill of 
 the window below them, which was on the second floor, 
 was rather a wide one. 
 
 Then, along the row of windows on the first floor, there 
 was a balcony. 
 
 Now, Wild thought, if he could only gain the window- 
 till beneath him, he should be able to lower himself from 
 that, and drop upon the balcony underneath. 
 
 Once there, to reach the ground would be an easy 
 matter; and then, he thought, as soon as his feet 
 touched the ground, he should be able to set pursuit at 
 defiance. 
 
 He communicated this desperate scheme to his son, 
 who, however much he may have disliked it, was com- 
 pelled to accede to its adoption or remain where he was 
 and bo taken prisoner. 
 
 To this, it ib almost needless to Bay, ho had the 
 strongest aversion. 
 
 With great speed and energy, Jonathan Wild tore down 
 the two dingy red curtains which hung before the 
 window, and tied them both together. 
 
 One end ho fastened securely to the frame of the 
 window, and the other end he lowered out, and was 
 rejoiced to find it reach within a short distance only of 
 the second-floor window-sill. 
 
 A straggle was near taking place as to who should 
 descend first, but Wild, junior, had the good sense to give 
 way, instead of prolonging their stay by a needless dis- 
 pute, until the chance of making their escape was gone. 
 
 Jonathan Wild then got out of the window, and slowly 
 lowered his body down the rope. 
 
 He felt giddy and sick when he thought how frail was 
 the rope, which alone prevented him from being pre- 
 cipitated to the earth. 
 
 But Jonathan Wild was not destined to come to his 
 death in that manner or on that occasion ; and so, despe- 
 rate and impossible as the achievement seemed, he 
 reached the window-sill in safety. 
 
 The remainder of his task was, however, by no means 
 easy. 
 
 He had to lower himself until bis hands grasped the 
 edge of the window-sill. 
 
 But he accomplished this ; and then, hanging to tho 
 full length of his arms, he let go, and alighted on the 
 balcony beneath. 
 
 By the time he had done that, his son had got down 
 almost the whole length of the curtain. 
 
 The police-officers in the next room must have had 
 some suspicion of what was taking place, for they flung 
 open the window and looked out. 
 
 They caught sight of both in a moment ; and, fearful 
 they would escape them before assistance arrived, drew 
 their pistols and fired. 
 
 The shots were not productive of any harm to Wild 
 and his son in a personal sense, for they were not even 
 scratched ; but the report would havo the effect of 
 rousing all the inhabitants of that quiet spot. 
 
 Cursing their officiousness, Jonathan Wild clambered 
 over the balcony, and dropped on to the ground. 
 
 He was joined in less than a moment by his son, who 
 had been rendered extraordinarily expeditious by the 
 shots. 
 
 He thought the next time a pistol was fired he might 
 not escape so well. 
 
 He reached the ground unhurt, however. 
 
 But it was quite clear that the alarm was fast becoming 
 general, for lights kept appearing with wondrous rapidity 
 at the different casements. 
 
 Wild's troubles were not over yet. 
 
 They had escaped from the chambers, it is true, bub 
 they were still in the large mass of buildings known a3 
 the Temple. 
 
 The thief -taker did not require to be told that every 
 avenue leading from the Temple would be guarded. 
 
 It was no good for him to think of making his exit by 
 any of the ordinary gates. 
 
 But there was the river. 
 
 He thought he should be able to reach this some time 
 before his pursuers. 
 
 Then there was a chance whether, at that hour of the 
 night, he should be able to obtain a boat. 
 
 He did not, however, hesitate and consider long about 
 this. 
 
 The river was his only resource, and ho was driven to 
 it. 
 
 He took his course in a direct line, heedless of the 
 many obstacles that opposed themselves to such a made 
 of progress. 
 
 At length the terrace was reached. 
 
 The surface of the water looked dark and gloomy. 
 
 There were many boats upon it, just faintly distinguish* 
 able, but they were all on the opposite side, where they 
 were moored. 
 
 "Loud cries came from behind them, and, looking round, 
 they saw a number of persons in full pursuit of them. 
 
 They seemed now to be in as great a difficulty as ever. 
 
 But Wild, recollecting that one end of the terrace must 
 be very near the Temple-stairs, made his way towards 
 it at full speed. 
 
 He had faint hopes of finding a boat there, and being 
 able to hail it. 
 
 On reaching the east end of the terrace, ho peered over, 
 and fancied he could discern the outlines of a wherry, 
 which was fastened by a chain to the stairs. 
 
 "There's no time to hail the boat, guv'nor," said Wild, 
 junior. "They are too close behind us. How is tho 
 tide?" 
 
 "At the ebb." 
 
 "Very well, climb over the railing, and drop into the 
 river. We must wade or swim to the boat, and cast off 
 ourselves." 
 
 " Agreedr Come on." 
 
 Wild saw that this was about the best thing that could 
 be done. 
 
 The rapidity with which both got over the spiked 
 palings, and dropped into the muddy bad of the Thames, 
 was really amazing. 
 
 The police-officers, seeing their prey after all about to 
 slip through their fingers, made the utmost exertion to 
 come up with them. 
 
 But, before they reached the end of the terrace, Wild 
 and his son had both waded to the boat and got into it. 
 
 They were greeted with a loud shout from some one 
 who already occupied the boat. 
 
 It was the boatman, who had gone to sleep in the botteai 
 of it.
 
 468 
 
 1LTJESKIN : A EOMANCI. 
 
 This cry had the effect of pointing out the whereabouts 
 of the fugitives to the officers. 
 
 They fired a volley in the direction, but, unheeding it, 
 Wild and his son cast off, and, by means of a dozen strokes, 
 got so far out into the stream as to set pursuit at defiance. 
 
 CHAPTER CCXCIX. 
 
 SHOWS HOW JONATHAN WILD AND HIS SON REACHED 
 HOME IN SAFETY, AND HOW THE LATTER OUTWITTED 
 THE FORMER. 
 
 The boatman was quite at a loss to understand what was 
 the meaning of the events then in progress, but Jonathan 
 adopted a ready means of reaching his understanding. 
 
 He took from his pocket a purse, which he put into the 
 hands of the waterman, saying as he did so — 
 
 " That purse contains at least ten guineas. Take it- 
 it is yours. All you have got to do in return is just to sit 
 still in the boat, without making a noise ! " 
 The boatman comprehended these words. 
 Indeed, they were spoken in too clear and emphatic a 
 tone for there to be the least possibility of their being 
 mistaken. 
 
 Moreover, there was the purse, which he clutched 
 eagerly in his hand, for the man was poor, and ten pounds 
 seemed to him like an inexhaustible fortune. 
 He remained quiet and still, then, as he was bid. 
 Both the thief-taker and his son knew how to handle 
 an oar with dexterity, so they took one each. 
 
 They now felt quite safe, for the boat they had secured 
 was the only one within sight. 
 
 Such being the case, Jonathan did not feel disposed to 
 exert himself or to remain on the water. 
 
 He directed the course of the boat to the next landing- 
 place down the stream. 
 
 This he reached in a few moments, and, leaping out of 
 the boat, they left the waterman to make the best he 
 could of his unexpected good fortune. 
 
 With all the speed they were capable of, they made 
 their way towards Newgate -street, and reached the door 
 of the thief-taker's house unmolested and in safety. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was highly delighted with the result of 
 his evening's excursion, and his spirits underwent a cor- 
 responding elevation. 
 
 His good temper was increased when, on entering, he 
 was assured by Quilt Arnold that all was well, and that no 
 circumstance whatever of an alarming character had taken 
 place. 
 
 Having assured himself of this, he went upstairs, accom- 
 panied by his son, and had a glass and a pipe together in 
 the sanctum. 
 
 Here they talked over their night's achievements. 
 Jonathan was getting more pleased with his son every 
 day, and he felt inclined to trust him more and more. 
 
 On the present occasion he gave him an insight into all 
 his intended future proceedings, not a word of which was 
 lost upon his hearer. 
 
 Just as day was beginning to break they separated, and 
 both sought some repose, for it was impossible for them 
 not to feel their fatigue. 
 Not a word had been said by either about the papers. 
 George took good care not to do so, and his father never 
 mentioned them. 
 
 But upon entering hia bed-chamber, Wild, junior, 
 locked the door, and said — 
 
 " What a d — d fool the guv'nor must be to trust me 
 like he does ! However, I can't help it. It's no concern 
 of mine. We shall see how things turn out. First, how- 
 ever, I will find a hiding-place for these." 
 
 As he uttered these words, he drew from his coat- 
 pocket the packet of papers Jonathan had been at such 
 trouble to obtain, and which he felt so much elation at 
 being in possession of. 
 
 " He hasn't discovered his loss yet," saia George, as 
 he turned the package over and over in his hands. That 
 just proves the truth of what I have so often said. It 
 shows what a d — d fool he is. Now, if I had been him, 
 and had got these papers, I should have looked in my 
 pockets every five minutes to be sure that they were 
 safe." 
 
 He paused. 
 
 " However, here they are, and I mean to take good care 
 cf them, too. They are of vast importance, there can be 
 uo sort of mistake about that; and it is my duty, of 
 
 course, to make the most of them that I possibly 
 can." 
 
 With these words on his lips, Wild, junior, looked round 
 the apartment in search of 6orne place that would be suit- 
 able to hide the packet of papers. 
 
 How and when he had managed to obtain possession of 
 them, heaven only knows. 
 
 He must have taken advantage of some moment when 
 his father's pre-occupation was extreme to abstract them 
 from the pocket into which they had been somewhat care- 
 lessly thrust. 
 
 At any rate, he held in his hands those papers which 
 were so vital to the interest of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He held in his hands a full confession of Lord Donmull's 
 guilt, from first to last, including all the dealings he had 
 had with the thief-taker. 
 
 We have seen that Jonathan Wild and his son were both 
 under the impression that the packet had been left with 
 Mr. Mudford, with instructions that he should open it in 
 case Lord Donmull did not make his appearance within 
 some specified time. 
 
 But such was scarcely the case. 
 
 Lord Donmull's instructions when he left the packet 
 with the attorney were these. 
 
 The packet was not to be opened until he (Mr. Mud- 
 ford) had received proof of Lord Donmull's death, and 
 that, when that occurred, the packet was to be taken to 
 one of the chief police-magistrates. 
 
 So that a great deal of the alarm which the thief-taker 
 felt was groundless. 
 
 George Wild looked round and round the room several 
 times before he could find a place suitable for his pur- 
 pose. 
 
 He was thus engaged, and quite undecided, when his 
 ears were saluted with a terrific yell, which a stranger 
 would have declared came from the throat of some fero- 
 cious denizen of the forest. 
 
 But George knew better. 
 
 " The devil ! " he ejaculated, " he's found out his loss 
 now ! What on earth shall I do with this packet ? " 
 
 He looked round once more, but without being able to 
 find an answer to his question. 
 
 He was convinced that there was no time to be lost, for 
 he could hear a heavy footstep approaching. 
 
 " That's the guv'nor," he said. " I must put it some- 
 where, that's certain. Perhaps this will do." 
 
 He turned down the bed-clothes as he spoke, and thrust 
 the package between the sheets. 
 
 He had scarcely done so, and returned the bed to its 
 ordinary appearance, when his bed-room door was flung 
 open, and his respected parent stalked in. 
 
 The countenance of the great thief-taker was something 
 terrible to look upon. 
 
 Even his son was appalled. 
 
 It was distorted by the most fiendish rage. 
 
 He made one rush forward, and clutched his son tightly 
 by the throat. 
 
 Then, while he held him in that position, he cried — 
 
 " Confess, villain ! confess at once ! What have you 
 done with the packet of papers ? Tell me, or I will twist 
 your villainous head off ! " 
 
 Wild, junior, glared at his father with well-affected 
 amazement. 
 
 He made one effort to speak, but the pressure upon his 
 throat was too great to allow him to do so. 
 
 Blinded with rage as he was, Jonathan saw this, and 
 slightly relaxed his grip. 
 
 " Tell me ! " he yelled, at the same moment. " What 
 have you done with those papers ?" 
 
 "Me?" said Wild, junior, with the utmost astonish- 
 ment portrayed in his tone and manner. 
 
 " Tea, you." 
 
 " Why, guv'nor, you must be mad." 
 
 " Do not patter with me, villain. Your lifo hangs upon 
 a thread." 
 
 " No, d— n it, guv'nor ; easy does it !" 
 
 "Curses! Do not think of imposing upon me any 
 longer. I know you — know you for a venomous reptile, 
 which I have warmed in my bosom until it has turned 
 round and stung me." 
 
 " Oh ! d— n it, guv'nor, you're mad ! Let go my throat, 
 I say ! Murder ! Help ! " 
 
 " Silence ! " cried the thief-taker, fiercely. 
 
 "Silence be d d! Do you think I am suoh a
 
 3LTTE3KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 469 
 
 fool as to allow you to take my life without opening my 
 mouth ?" 
 
 He struggled violently as he spoke, and succeeded in 
 getting free from the thief-taker's grasp. 
 
 But this result was not so much due to his superior 
 strength or courage as it was to the fact that Jonathan's 
 rage was beginning to cool a little. 
 
 Wild, junior, however, hastened to place the bed 
 between him and his exasperated parent ; and when he had 
 intrenched himself in this tolerably secure position he 
 said — 
 
 " Now, guv'nor, take it easy, and just tell us what is the 
 matter. I don't understand your manner. Do you mean 
 to say you have lost that packet of papers you found at the 
 lawyers?" 
 
 " Yes, and no one is better acquainted with the faot 
 than yourself. You have taken them. You know it, so do 
 not attempt to deny it." 
 
 " Don't be a d — d fool, guv'nor — don't be a d — d fool. 
 Just as if it was likely that I should bake the papers. What 
 good would they be to me ? " 
 
 " If you haven't taken them, who has ? " 
 
 " How should I know, guv'nor ? Come, now, don't be 
 a fool. I can't believe what you say." 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " That you have lost the papers." 
 
 " I have." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " 
 
 " Quite certain." 
 
 " Then it's a d — d unlucky circumstance, that's all I can 
 say about it." 
 
 Jonathan Wild looked keenly at his son. 
 
 The words he had just uttered were spoken with such 
 well-assumed surprise and regret that anyone would be 
 deceived. 
 
 Wild was himself, and he was one not easily taken in. 
 
 It was the off-hand way in which Wild, junior, had 
 uttered the last sentence that baffled him. 
 
 Finding him silent, George put on a look of still greater 
 consternation as he said, in a serious tone — 
 
 " Is it really possible, guv'nor, that you have lost those 
 papers ? " 
 
 " Don't I tell you I have ? " 
 
 " I could hardly believe it ! Perhaps you are mistaken, 
 guv'nor ? Look in your pockets again. 
 
 " It's no good ; the papers are gone." 
 
 Wild, juniop, followed this announcement with a long, 
 low whistle, and sat down on the edge of the bed. 
 
 He saw that his father's suspicions were fast disappear- 
 ing. 
 
 " And when you discovered your loss, guv'nor, do you 
 really mean to say that you thought I had taken them ? " 
 
 " I did. I could have staked my life of it." 
 
 " Then, if you had laid the wager, you would be looking 
 rather queer just now, eh ? You should be more careful, 
 guv'nor. Why, what good would the papers be to me ? " 
 
 "Oh! I don't know." 
 
 "Then you prove how absurd your suspicions were. 
 But, never mind, guv'nor, I feel that I can forgive you 
 for it. When you made that discovery, I don't wonder at 
 your becoming unconscious of what you were about." 
 
 Jonathan was silent, and sank down on the other side 
 of the bed. 
 
 " To think," he ejaculated, half-aloud and half to him- 
 self — " to think that I had those important papers securely 
 in my grasp, after having taken such a deal of trouble to 
 obtain possession of them, and then to lose them ! " 
 
 " Damnably vexatious, guv'nor ! But stop, now 1 " 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " When did you discover your loss ? " l 
 
 " A minute ago. I threw myself down, but could not 
 rest or close my eyes. I then bethought myself of the 
 papers, and resolved to become acquainted with their 
 contents. I put my hand into my pocket, where I had 
 placed them, but they were gone." 
 
 " How vexing ! When did you feel them last ? " 
 
 " When did I feel them last ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Jonathan passed his hand over his bald head in an 
 absent fashion. 
 
 He was trying to remember. 
 
 But he could not. 
 
 " Curse it ! " he said, at length. ** I put them in my 
 pocket securely, as I thought." 
 
 " And you have not felt them since ? " 
 
 " I cannot recollect doing so." 
 
 " Nor do I. It's not to be wondered at, when you con- 
 sider how we were surprised, and what trouble we had to 
 get off." 
 
 " A thousand curses ! " 
 
 " It's no good cursing, guv'nor. But I think it's rather 
 too bad of you to be so ready to accuse me. It's very 
 disheartening to be wrongfully suspected. Now, you see, 
 you put the papers into your pocket, and never thought to 
 look or feel whether they were safe until after you had 
 laid down, and then, when you found they had gone, you 
 jumped up in a moment, and accused me of stealing them. 
 It's too bad, d — n me if it isn't ! " 
 
 Jonathan listened to this outburst of indignation, and 
 forgot his suspicions. 
 
 "What shall I do, George ? " he cried. " My position 
 is now ten thousand times worse than before. If I have 
 lost the packet, as I fear I have, it will be found — its con- 
 tents will be examined, and then, farewell to the best 
 scheme that the brain of man ever conceived ! " 
 
 " It's damnably aggravating ! " said George, " for I 
 quite intended to have a pick off that bone myself! It ia 
 to be hoped that you lost the infernal papers while you 
 were on the Thames, and that they have sunk to the 
 bottom ! " 
 
 " I must think, 1 must think," said the thief-taker, as 
 he rose from his seat and went towards the door of the 
 apartment. "Good night, George. I must have some 
 sleep ; I shall be able to think better then." 
 
 As be spoke, Jonathan left the room, closing bhe door 
 behind him. 
 
 As it closed, George Wild's face gradually expanded 
 into a grin of satisfaction. 
 
 CHAPTER CCC. 
 
 REVERTS PARTICULARLY TO THE PROCEEDINGS OF BLUE- 
 SKIN IN WILD'S HOUSE. 
 
 We imagine the reader will be easily able to conceive how 
 great was the thief-taker's dismay and consternation upon 
 discovering the loss of the papers. 
 
 It was rather strange that his first suspicions should be 
 so correct. 
 
 Now, however, he was completely thrown off the track ; 
 for, by his cunning behaviour, George had succeeded in 
 clearing himself. 
 
 Jonathan felt the need of sleep. 
 
 But, with his brain in such a whirl as it was at that 
 moment — with his thoughts so terribly distracted as they 
 were — how was he to hope for repose ? 
 
 Nevertheless, he flung himself upon his bed, and tossed 
 and tumbled about, until, at length, his body becoming 
 thoroughly weary, he dropped off into an uneasy slumber. 
 
 There we will leave him. 
 
 It is, we think, high time that we turned our attention 
 to Blueskin, of whom, lately, only casual mention has been 
 made. 
 
 He had the prudence to obey all Mr. Snoxall's injunc- 
 tions, and found himself rapidly getting better. 
 
 But he was careful to conceal this as much a3 possible. 
 
 He was quite certain that, so soon as Jonathan found 
 he was getting up his strength, he would be removed 
 from the chamber he now occupied to some place of much 
 greater strength and security. 
 
 His intentions were, then, simple enough. 
 
 He would do all he could to recover from his hurls as 
 quickly as possible, but yet conceal hi3 progress towards 
 convalescence. 
 
 Then, when he felt his strength was equal to the task, 
 he would endeavour to make his escape. 
 
 It was, however, a matter of great difficulty to deceive 
 Mr. Snoxall with regard to his recovery. 
 
 But he feigned sickness as well as he could. 
 
 After the interview, which we have already described 
 as taking place between him and Jonathan Wild, he re- 
 mained for some time in deep thought. 
 
 It was not, however, that he hesitated about rejecting 
 the proposal. 
 
 H© simply tried to fathom Jonathan's polioy. 
 
 In this manner he passed away the time until night 
 came. 
 
 That night which Jonathan spent in Lord Donmulla 
 house in Piccadilly.
 
 470 
 
 BLUESKXN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 As the different objects in tLe room began to prow con- 
 fused and indistinct with tbe approaching darkness, he 
 resolved not to delay any longer making an effort to 
 escape. 
 
 He felt stronger and much better than he had done. 
 
 He had the prudence to lie still until Mr. Snoxall paid 
 his last visit, which was generally just about nightfall. 
 
 But it so happened tb.t he was later than usual. 
 
 As he waited for bii.i to eoine, Blueskin tos.«aa and 
 tumbled upon the hd " "U worked himself up aito a fever 
 of impatience. — 
 
 At last Mr. Snoxall came. 
 
 " You have been exciting yourself," he said, the moment 
 ho saw his patient. "That is wrong; you must keep 
 yourself quiet, or you will have a dangerous relapse." 
 
 To this Blueskin made no reply. 
 
 As soon, however, as Mr. Snoxall withdrew, he sat 
 upright in bed, and listened. 
 
 He heard him descend the stairs with his usual delibe- 
 rate tread. 
 
 After that all was still. 
 
 He waited five minutes longer. 
 
 Then he sprang out of bed. 
 
 The moment his feet touched the floor, and his body 
 assumed an upright position, such a sudden accession of 
 faintness camo over him that he was scarcely able to cave 
 himself from falling heavily to the floor. 
 
 Probably nothing but the consciousness that if he did 
 so the whole house would be aroused, and his scheme of 
 escape defeated, would have enabled him to rally from it. 
 
 But he did rally. 
 
 lie felt giddy and sick, and sat down on the edge of the 
 bed. 
 
 By degrees, however, he recovered himself, and slowly 
 began to attire himself. 
 
 All this time he was in profound darkness. 
 
 When ho had put on his last article of apparel he felt 
 much better. 
 
 Having accomplished so much as ho had acted as a kind 
 of stimulus upon him. 
 
 With a better heart ho turned to a consideration of how 
 he was to leave the chamber. 
 
 The door, he knew, was not only of great strength, but 
 hampered on the outside with almost every imaginable 
 Etyle of fastening. 
 
 He turned away from it without a hope of doing any 
 good in that direction, for he was also aware that a man 
 kept watch outside both by day and night. 
 
 The window presented him with scarcely any better 
 hopes. 
 
 It was small in size, strongly barred on the outside, 
 an ! a considerable distance from the ground. 
 
 But that was the only other means by which egress 
 could be had from the chamber. 
 
 To a sick man, whose body had been almost drained of 
 blood, these looked like insurmountable obstacles. 
 
 But Blueskin did not thiuk them such. 
 
 He opened the window easily enough, for it was not 
 fastened except by a little button. 
 
 Indeed, every reliance seemed to be placed upon the 
 iron bars without ; for during hia sickness the window 
 had, by Mr. Snoxall's instructions, frequently been opened. 
 
 The gush of cool air that, on the present occasion, came 
 through the iron bars, refreshed Blueskin exceedingly, 
 and seemed tore-invigorate his whole frame. 
 
 He took hold of one of the horizontal iron bars and 
 '«trove to shake it in its setting. 
 
 But the effort was altogether a vain one. 
 
 The bar did not move in the slightest perceptiblo degree. 
 
 Without any tools, how was a man in Blueskin's state 
 to hope to remove them ? 
 
 And when he had done so, how was he to escape ? 
 
 There was but one means, and that was to stand upon 
 the window-sill, take hold of the parapet, and draw him- 
 self up on to the roof. 
 
 But surely there must have been some traces of delirium 
 about his brain, or he would surely never have contem- 
 plated the performance of so desperato a. feat. 
 
 However, he felt in his pockets, for ho was not without 
 a hope that they had been left unsearched. 
 
 But they had been cleared of everything they contained, 
 with the exception of one article, and that probably had 
 been left because its size was K small, or because it was 
 thought valueless. 
 
 It was nothing- but a crooked piece of steel. 
 
 With this ineffective implement Blueskin hoped to effect 
 a great deal. 
 
 He began, with great patience and perseverance, to pick 
 out the mort - in which the end of one of the iron bars 
 was imbedded. 
 
 . it urns was a tedious operation. 
 
 Bit by bit, however, the hard mortar was dislodged, 
 until at last he was able, by an exertion of the utmost 
 strength he possessed, to get out one end. 
 
 Avery great deal,he told himself, was now accomplished, 
 and with renewed spirits he set himself to work. 
 
 Now that one end of the bar was cleared, he was ablo 
 to work it slowly backwards and forwards, until at length 
 he bent it back altogether. 
 
 It stood out at right angles to tho wall. 
 
 It now occurred to him that, if he could pursue the same 
 ?ourse with the other bars, they would very materially aid 
 him in making his way on to the roof. 
 
 This thought was a fresh encouragement to him to pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 But from time to time a dizziness and faintness came 
 over him, which but too truly told that he was overtaxing 
 his strength. 
 
 Each time, however, that he experienced this sensation, 
 he shook it off. 
 
 It returned, however, again and again, and with less 
 interval on every occasion. 
 
 Still he continued at his labour. 
 
 At length tho one end of the last bar was released, 
 and bent back into the same position as its predecessors. 
 
 A series of rude steps were then presented, up which it 
 was possible to climb. 
 
 But Blueskin was now terribly exhausted. 
 
 The perspiration poured off him in streams, and ho 
 drew his breath in short and fitful gasps. 
 
 Clouds of blood seemed floating before his eyes. 
 
 Still, rendered desperate by the prospect of liberty so 
 temptingly laid out before him, he made one more effort 
 to summon his fleeting breath end get upon the window- 
 sill. 
 
 The first attempt he made was an utter failure. 
 
 The strength seemed to have wholly deserted hia 
 arms. 
 
 There was a terrible tightness about bis heart when he 
 made this discovery. 
 
 What should he do ? 
 
 He tried to shake off the deadly lassitude which had 
 seized upon him. 
 
 He made one more effort to mount the window-sill. 
 
 This time he succeeded. 
 
 Auimated by this partial success, he tried to take the 
 next step towards liberty. 
 
 But here our hero found his strength deserted him. 
 
 Again came over him that awful sensation of faintness 
 and strengthlessness. 
 
 no swayed to and fro upon the window-sill like a 
 drunken man. 
 
 lie seemed in the most imminent danger of falling into 
 the street. 
 
 He made feeble and ineffectual attempts to grasn at 
 different objects. 
 
 Each time unsuccessfully. 
 
 His fingers were unable to make use of their prehensile 
 qualities. 
 
 He uttered a gasping sob, and then, unconscious of 
 everything, fell backwards on the floor of the room, his 
 head coming into terrible contact with the boards. 
 
 Had that feeling seized him when he swayed in the 
 other direction — that is, forwards instead of backwards — 
 he must have falleu into the street. 
 
 No earthly power could have saved him. 
 
 The noise of his fall reached the ears of the man on 
 guard outside. 
 
 no instantly raised an alarm, in accordance with the 
 instructions he had received. 
 
 Quilt Arnold hurried upstairs ; and, on the door being 
 thrown open, Blueskin was found in the condition we 
 have described. 
 
 At first they thought he was dead, for they were 
 unable to discover any signs of vitality. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall was immediately sent for, and, when he 
 arrived, be immediately set about recovering his patient, 
 whom he found in a state of unconsciousness, not death.
 
 B1TJESKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 471 
 
 But his condition was now rendered extremely critical 
 by this relapse. 
 
 He was once more brought to the very brink of the 
 grave. 
 
 The reader will, perhaps, remember that, on his return 
 from Lord Donmull's mansion in Piccadilly, which was on 
 the evening succeeding these events, Jonathan had gone 
 upstairs to inquire after his prisoner's condition. 
 
 He was met on the threshold of the room by the apothe- 
 cary, who held up his finger enjoining silence. 
 
 Jonathan was surprised to learn that Bluesliin was so 
 much worse. 
 
 He was in hopes to find he had recovered sufficiently to 
 warrant his being taken to the cells. 
 
 But, when he saw Blueskin extended on the bed, and 
 looking for all the world like a corpse, he abandoned tho 
 idea. 
 
 Quilt Arnold had repaired to some extent the damage 
 Blueskin had done, and Mr. Snoxall did not think of it to 
 acquaint him with all the particulars of the affair just at 
 present. 
 
 Then, as for Wild himself, he was fully occupied with 
 his new project, so he did not pay so much attention as 
 probably at another time he would have done. 
 
 On the day following the loss of the papers, however, 
 Jonathan was made acquainted with the full particulars of 
 Blueskin's attempt to escape. 
 
 This made him terribly uneasy. 
 
 If the papers had slipped through his fingers, he was 
 determined that Blueskin should not do so. 
 
 Let the risk be what it might, he resolved to place 
 him in some place of greater security ; and, in spite of all 
 Mr. Snoxall's remonstrances, Blueskin vraa forthwith 
 carried to the cells. 
 
 The reader may be sure that Jonathan Wild took care 
 that it should be the strongest of the lot. 
 
 He allowed him a plentiful supply of straw for a bed, 
 but took good care to have his limbs so chained that he 
 could only move very slightly. 
 
 It was in vain Mr. Snoxall exclaimed against this, and 
 declared how injurious it was to the health of prisoner, 
 
 Jonathan turned a deaf ear to all. 
 
 He was intent only upon keeping him safe. 
 
 This there seemed every likelihood of his being able to 
 do. 
 
 Even Blueskin, stronghearted and resolute as he was, 
 lost all hope. 
 
 He was in the clutches of the thief-taker, and held so 
 fast that it was impossible to get out. 
 
 But his chief anxiety was not so much for himself nor 
 for the peril of his situation. 
 
 It was for Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess, who, 
 ignorant of his fate, must be suffering a thousand terriblo 
 apprehensions. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall still continued his attendance, and, though 
 his case had seemed so desperate, Blueskiu showed un- 
 equivocal signs of rapid recovery. 
 
 This intelligence was, of course, duly conveyed to the 
 thief-taker by the apothecary. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCI. 
 
 .ONATHAN WILD PAYS BLUESKIN A VISIT IN HIS CELL, AND 
 MAKES A STARTLING PROPOSITION TO HIM. 
 
 Had he not been so unlucky as to lose the packet of 
 papers, Jonathan would have considered that at last he had 
 succeeded in his nefarious schemes. 
 
 Blueskin was his prisoner, and, ere long, he was confi- 
 dent of capturing Jack Sheppard and Edgwo^h Bess. 
 
 The papers, however, had disappeared. 
 
 During the day which succeeded the night upon which 
 he had lost them, Jonathan suffered an agony of appre- 
 hension. 
 
 He dreaded every moment to hear the intelligence that 
 they had been found, and their contents made public. 
 
 Was such to be the case, there would, of course, be an 
 end to his daring attempt to obtain possession of the Don- 
 mull estates and title, for Jonathan had dared to covet 
 that too, small as was his chance of success. 
 
 The day passed away, however, and the next night 
 came, without any such unwelcome intelligence reach* 
 ing his ear3. 
 
 But even this, though it may sound strange to say so, 
 was productive of discomfort and uneasiness of mind. 
 
 It was clear the papers had not been lost either in the 
 lawyer's chambers, in the Temple-gardens, or on his way 
 home after leaving the boat. 
 
 Had they been dropped in either of these places, he was 
 quite confident they must have been found by some oue. 
 
 And, when found, the character of the papers was of such 
 a startling character as to insure their being made puhlie. 
 But this was not so, or he would have heard something 
 long ere this. 
 
 In this manner he was driven back to tho suggestion of 
 his son, who had hinted they might have been lost in the 
 Thames. 
 
 But, somehow, Jonathan could not bring himself to 
 think this. 
 
 Of all the places he had been in, this was the least 
 likely for them to be lost. 
 
 To be sure, they might have fallen into the boat ; but if 
 so, they would have been found by tho waterman. 
 
 Afl he pursued these reflections, Jonathan felt the sus- 
 picions he had at first entei-tained of his son having pur- 
 loined them rapidly return, and with a stronger sense of 
 conviction than before. 
 
 He was no stranger to the advantages which would 
 accrue to his son, should he really have them in his posses- 
 sion. 
 
 He did not so much dread that he would use them 
 against him, as he did that he would obtain a kind of 
 mastery over him. 
 
 Tho more Jonathan pondered over it, the more likely it 
 seemed. 
 
 " I will notice whether there is any alteration in his 
 behaviour," he muttered ; " whether he will treat me as 
 though he thought I was in his power. If he does, then 
 I shall know that he has the papers, and it will be no hard 
 task to obtain possession of them again, and then I should 
 be able to make him smoke for it ! " 
 
 Having come to thi3 resolution, Jonathan wisely made 
 up his mind to abide the issue of events. 
 
 " I will see Blueskin," he exclaimed, after _ a few 
 minutes'' thought ; " he must surely be by this tima 
 reduced to the greatest abjection ! If so, it will be all the 
 easier for me to succeed with him. But matters are now, 
 I feel convinced, coming to a crisis, and I am determined 
 to bring the matter to an end somehow or other ! " 
 
 He rose from the chair upon which he had been sitting 
 as he spoke, and, going to the cupboard by the side of the 
 fireplace, produced a torch, of which he had a large 
 bundle. 
 
 At one time, when he paid a visit to the prisoners in 
 the cells, he had always taken a dark lantern with him. 
 
 But latterly he had found this did not give light suffi- 
 cient to satisfy him. 
 
 This was owing to the impureness of the air in the cells, 
 which did not permit the wick of the lamp to combust 
 properly. 
 
 With the torch, however, he got on much better. 
 
 In a pure atmosphere they gave out a great glare of 
 light, and though iu tho dungeons their lustre was much 
 diminished, still they diffused sufficient light to enable 
 him to see with distinctness about him. 
 
 Being thus provided, the thief-taker lighted the torch 
 and proceeded to the dungeons. 
 
 His heavy tread awakened many dismal eehoes in that 
 subterraneous region. 
 
 They aroused Blueskin from a kind of half-doze into 
 which he had fallen. 
 
 He slowly and painfully raised himself up on one arm. 
 
 The heavy footstep paused outside fehe door of his dun- 
 geon. — 
 
 He recognised the heavy step. 
 
 He knew it was the' thief-taker, who was about to pay 
 him a visit. 
 
 He nerved himself for the worst. 
 
 One by one the numerous heavy fastenings were un- 
 done. 
 
 The door was flung open. 
 
 Then there was a glare of light which, after the dark- 
 ness of his dungeon, was so brilliant that Blueskin had to 
 close his eyes. 
 
 He was unable to look upon it. 
 
 But anxiety to know what was going to take place would 
 not allow him to keep them, shut, and when he opened 
 them, he blinked like some nocturual animal disturbed!? 
 aright.
 
 « 1 
 
 473 
 
 BLUESKTN : A ROIIAJTCE. 
 
 Dimly and imperfectly he saw the form of his pers 6 " 
 cutor. 
 
 Jonathan Wild, on this occasion, thought fit to assume 
 what he considered a highly facetious manner. 
 
 He entered the cell with a jaunty step, and, going close 
 pp to Blueskin, held the torch within about a couple of 
 inches of his face. # 
 
 Blueskin shrunk back as far as he could, but that was 
 only a short distance, for the chains effectually prevented 
 him from moving far. 
 
 "You don't look well, my friend," said Wild, with mock 
 joviality in his tones, and which grated terribly upon the 
 ears of the prisoner, who made no reply. 
 
 " But you will soon be better, I know," continued Wild. 
 " Just wait a moment, I have got something I want to 
 eay to you." 
 
 " If it is to repeat the proposal you made to me tne 
 other day, you may as well save yourself the trouble. You 
 can take my answer now." 
 
 Jonathan Wild affected not to hear this speech, but 
 busied himself in sticking the torch in an iron ring that 
 was fastened in the wall. 
 
 In this position it diffused a light over the limited area 
 of the cell. 
 
 Going to one corner of it, Jonathan produced what 
 Blueskin did not know was there. 
 
 It was a small, three-legged stool. 
 
 But he might well be in ignorance of its presenca, for 
 the darkness of the cell was profound. 
 
 Jonathan brought this to about the ceutre of the 
 dungeon. 
 
 Then, placing it there, he sat himself down upon it. 
 
 For a moment or two he looked at his prisoner in 
 silence. 
 
 Blueskin presented but a sorry spectacle. 
 
 It grieves us to have to describe our old friend in such 
 a plight. 
 
 His head was bandaged up, and a great deal of his hair 
 cut away. 
 
 This gave him an unnatural and terrible appearance. 
 
 His face wa3 white and bloodless. 
 
 His eyes dull and sunken. 
 
 . His cheeks forming two great hollows, leaving the jaws 
 distinctly visible. 
 
 His whole form was wasted and emaciated. 
 _ To use a common expression, he was but the shadow of 
 his former self. 
 
 Then his clothes were torn, and ragged, and soaked 
 with blood from top to bottom. 
 
 • Indeed, it would not be possible for the imagination to 
 picture a more wretched-looking object than Blueskin now 
 was. 
 
 Jack Sheppard would scarcely have known him. 
 
 He was very weak, and the fetters he had on weighed 
 him down, but still he managed to find strength enough 
 to raise himself up on one arm and look into the counte- 
 nance of thief-taker, where, however, there was neither 
 pity nor compassion visible. 
 
 On the contrary, he seemed to rejoice at the terrible 
 appearance which Blueskin now presented, for his face 
 was distorted into a grin of hideous derision. 
 
 He repeated his former speech in the same disagreeable 
 tones. 
 
 " You don't look well, my friend, and I am sadly afraid 
 that the atmosphere of this cell will not agree with you ; 
 but I suppose you don't mind that, as you are here of your 
 own free will. 
 
 To this taunting speech Blueskin returned no reply, but 
 still fixed his eyes upon the countenauce of his tor- 
 mentor. 
 
 " Oh ! you won't speak. Well, never mind, I suppose 
 you mean that 1 am to take your silence for consent. 
 Well, it seems strange that anyone should lie here in a 
 place of this sort from choice. But strange things happen 
 every day." 
 
 " Why do you mock me, Jonathan Wild ? " 
 
 " Oh ! you have found your tongue at last, have you ? 
 I am glad to hear it. Let's hear you talk a bit." 
 
 "Jonathan Wild!" 
 
 " What ? " 
 
 " I am at a loss to think what can have brought you to 
 this cell. Surely you have some better occupation thaa to 
 oome here and jeer and taunt me while I am powerless to 
 resent your insults ! " 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 " That laugh is unmeaning. Jonathan Wild, you have 
 got to deal with one who knows you as well as yourself ; 
 and therefore all these little artifices, in which you so 
 delight, although they might have an effect upon some, 
 ase quite powerless upon me." 
 
 " I see, my friend, you are a great deal better than I 
 thought you were, and I rejoice in such a circumstance. 
 I am prepared for you this time, however. It's no good 
 your trying to get out of this place." 
 
 And Jonathan glanced round at the stone walls of the 
 cell triumphantly, as though he would defy anyone to 
 break through them. 
 
 Blueskin did not think proper to reply in any way to 
 this speech or this look. 
 
 Wild continued. 
 
 But he spoke in a different tone, and with a different 
 manner. 
 
 " Look here, Blueskin," he said ; " you told me just 
 now that you knew me. Well, I daresay you do. You 
 have had, in past time, plenty of opportunities of studying 
 my character. So much the better if you do know me, 
 Blueskin. So much the better. We shall come to an 
 understanding with each other all the sooner." 
 
 " We shall come to no understanding whatever." 
 
 " You think so." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Then I differ from you. Listen." 
 
 " I am compelled to do so, willingly or unwillingly." 
 
 " As you remark, you are compelled to listen to me. 
 Now, you boast that you know me. I do not deny it ; 
 but, if so, you must also possess this one piece of 
 knowledge — when I say a thing I always keep my 
 ivord ! " 
 
 But Blueskin still remained silent. 
 
 " Why don't you speak ? " at length roared the thief- 
 taker. 
 
 "Whatmustlsay?" 
 
 " Answer me." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Do I or do I not keep my word ?" 
 
 " You make a boast that you do." 
 
 "And do I not?" 
 
 " When you are able, no doubt." 
 
 " But I am able." 
 
 Blueskin was again silent. 
 
 " You think to provoke me by maintaining this 
 silence." 
 
 " I have nothing to talk about." 
 
 " Why do you not answer me ? " 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " Come, come, Blueskin, we shall never get on like 
 this. I want to have a few minutes' chat with you. Why 
 should we be foes, like we lately have been ? You see it 
 has resulted in no good to yourself." 
 
 " If you are going to repeat your former proposal, you 
 may as well spare your trouble. My mind remains un- 
 altered. My resolve is the same." 
 
 " Fair and softly — fair and softly. I only submitted 
 one side of the question. You must look at it in two 
 lights." 
 
 " There is no necessity." 
 
 " But I say there is." 
 
 " How so ? " 
 
 " My proposal to you was this. You are my prisoner— 
 helplessly my prisoner. Now, upon certain conditions, I 
 am willing, not only to set you at liberty, but also to 
 restore you to that position which you but recently occu- 
 pied in my household. There you were in comfort and in 
 
 Blueskin turned over on his straw impatiently. 
 
 Jonathan continued. 
 
 " The simple conditions which I mentioned were, that 
 you should discover to me the whereabouts of Jack Shep- 
 pard and Edgworth Bea», and aid me in the designs which 
 I have formed against them." 
 
 " And do you think, Jonathan Wild," exclaimed Blue- 
 skin, in furious tones, " do you think that I am such a 
 monstrous villain as to doom my comrade to an ignomi- 
 nious death, and be instrumental in depriving a poor perse- 
 cuted girl of her just inheritance ? No, Jonathan Wild. 
 Ten thousand times no ! "
 
 BUJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 473 
 
 [JONATHAN WILD'S SON SECRETING THE LORD DONMULL's PAPERS.] 
 
 CHAPTER CCCII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD THREATENS BLUESKIN WITH THE CON- 
 SEQUENCES OF HIS REFUSAL. 
 
 Blueskin pronounced these words with such tremendous 
 energy that he made the vaulted dungeon ring again, and 
 Jonathan Wild shrank back with something like surprise 
 visible upon his countenance. 
 
 But, as soon as he had spoken, the factitious vigour 
 with which he had been inspired suddenly left him, and 
 Blueskin fell back upon the straw as though dead. 
 
 Jonathan did not move hand or foot ; and, his first sur- 
 prise over, he sat calmly upon his stool looking at him. 
 
 Blueskin's swoon was only a partial one, and hp„soon 
 recovered himself from the effects of it. 
 
 As soon as he felt himself able, he raised himself agi.»n, 
 and, looking his tormenter in the face, said, with as much 
 calmness as he could assume — 
 
 "Jonathan Wild, cease to torment me upon this theme. 
 You know my determination, and I shall not depart from 
 it. My mind is firmly made up." 
 
 " Oh ! it is, is it ? " said Wild, mocking the tone of 
 voice in which he spoke. 
 
 " It is." 
 
 "Very well, then ; that will do." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear you say so, and I hope you will be 
 good enough to leave me." 
 
 " Oh ! dear no ; we can't part yet, my friend. I have 
 not said all I intended to say to you, anil I can't go away 
 till I have. Just listen." 
 
 " I am compelled to do so." 
 
 " So you said before, and uncommonly true the remark 
 is. Now pay attention, as you must be aware there are 
 two sides to every question." 
 
 " If there were a thousand sides to your^ proposal, my 
 determination would still remain unaltered." 
 
 "Oh! indeed. Well, now, I differ from you there 
 entirely. When I made you the proposition, I told you 
 what advantages would accrue to you if you accepted it. 
 
 " Advantages ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but I did not tell you what would be the conse- 
 quences of your refusal." 
 
 No. 60.
 
 47 • 
 
 BLUESKIN: A KOMAtfC*. 
 
 " Nor need you." 
 
 *' So you think, perhaps ; but I will tell you just the 
 same." 
 
 And, as he spoke, Jonathan Wild assumed what he 
 considered to be a very striking and highly effective atti- 
 tude. 
 
 Leaning forward, he placed one elbow on his knee, and 
 supported his head with one hand. 
 
 The other hand he allowed to rest in a negligent sort of 
 manner upon his other knee. 
 
 In this position he leered into Blueskin's countenance, 
 as he said — 
 
 " Blueskin, my friend — for such, when I think about the 
 past, I cannot help calling you— Blueskin, my friend, you 
 made a very egregious mistake when you thought proper 
 to leave me and link yourself with my enemies. You have 
 done no good since ; whereas, if you had been content to 
 remain with me, all would have gone on as well as 
 before." 
 
 " Until I ceased to be of service to you." 
 
 " Now, Blueskin, my dear friend, don't talk like that. 
 But I daresay the pain of your wound has an irritating 
 effect upon your temper. I am afraid, too, that it con- 
 fuses your mind, and disables you from seeing things as 
 clearly as you ought to do." 
 
 " I understand sufficient." 
 
 "A delusion — a delusion. Now, I will tell you what I 
 will do ; for, really, if you will believe me, I should like 
 to put an end to the dissensions between us." 
 
 " You can easily do so." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " Cease to pursue Jack Sheppard and myself like yon do, 
 and no longer persecute the poor heiress.'' 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! An easy way, truly. No — no, my friend ; 
 the thing must be done in a different way to that — in an 
 entirely different way. But this is what I shall have 
 to do : I shall have to show you your exact position, 
 which I am sure, by your behaviour, you cannot compre- 
 hend." 
 
 " There you are in error, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 " No, it is you who are in error, as I will quickly prove, 
 if you will allow me the opportunity." 
 
 " I am not in a position to interfere with or prevent 
 what you may intend to do." 
 
 "Oh! you acknowledge that, do you? Then, let me 
 tell you that is an important admission — such a one as, 
 candidly speaking, I did not think you would make. 
 However, it is highly satisfactory for me to find that your 
 intellects are not quite in such a state of confusion as 1 
 thought they were." 
 
 Blueskin moved uneasily. 
 
 Jonathan's manner galled him, as well as the tact that 
 he was powerless to escape from being thus tormented. 
 
 Wild continued. 
 
 " Just have a look at the past. You know my way of 
 carrying on business. In fact, you are acquainted with a 
 great many of my secrets — I may say all, so far as trade 
 is concerned. We got on well together. I found I could 
 trust you and depend upon you, just as well as I could 
 depend upon myself. I was liberal to you, and you were 
 content. Thus, all went well, and to the mutual advantage 
 of all persons. Now, Blueskin, answer me this, and 
 answer me truly : have you ever been so comfortable since 
 yon quitted my employ, as you were before you did so? " 
 
 "Sot bodily; for, in consequence of your inveterate 
 hostility, I have had much to suffer ; but then, I have had 
 the consolation of an approving conscience." 
 
 "Bah! bah! bah!" 
 
 " You do not know what that is, Jonathan Wild, and, 
 in all probability, you never will. But I do, and it has 
 encouraged me to endure all the misery you have inflicted 
 upon me." 
 
 " Now, Blueskin," said Wild, in an affected deprecatory 
 manner, " do, for goodness' sake, talk sense. If you will 
 only do so, I can get along ; but when you talk about such 
 d — d nonsense as approving conscience, you turn me sick. 
 Listen." 
 
 " To what ? " 
 
 " To what I was saying when yon flew off at a tangent. 
 You admitted, however, that you had never been comfort- 
 able since you set yourself up in opposition to me." 
 
 "The opposition came from you, not from us. We 
 would willingly have let you alone, but you would not 
 ftUow us to do so." 
 
 " But you forget, Blueskin, that you interfered with 
 my plans — that, in fact, you interrupted my choicest 
 scheme." 
 
 " That of robbing an unprotected girl of the wealth 
 and title which should belong to her. A feat well worthy 
 of you, truly ! " 
 
 "No matter; you interfered, and you perceive the 
 consequences. You have gained nothing by your oppo- 
 sition ; on the contrary, you have lost everything. There 
 was the matter of Jack Sheppard. Curse the fellow ! It 
 is he who has caused all this trouble, and I hate him for 
 it ! You brought him to me, as I believe, thinking that 
 he would serve me; but, instead of that, how has he 
 behaved ? and then, when he rebelled, you sided with 
 him." 
 
 " And should do so again under the same circum- 
 stances." 
 
 " Then I lament your want of sense." 
 
 " You may do sc." 
 
 "I do. But enough of that. I say you joined him, 
 and set yourself up against me. How foolish must such 
 a proceeding be upon your part ! As though you two could 
 contend with any amount of success against anyone so 
 powerful as I am ! " 
 
 " You overrate yourself." 
 
 " Not so ; events will prove that I do not. As yet, who 
 has been best off in the contest ? " 
 
 " You have not succeeded." 
 
 " But I can easily do so. At any rate, I have you in 
 my power, so wholly that it is impossible for you to be 
 extricated from it. I can do with you just as I please. 
 I could slay you at this moment, if it answered my purposo 
 to do so, and you would not be able to so much as raiso 
 your arm to ward off the fatal blow ! " 
 
 " And why do you not strike it ? " 
 
 " For reasons of my own, which, if you thought proper, 
 you could easily become acquainted with." 
 
 "What are they?" 
 
 "All in good time. You are not prepared to hear 
 them yet. Do you admit that you are wholly and utterly 
 in my power ? " 
 
 " I cannot deny it." 
 • " Well, then, if such is the case, it appears I am in a 
 position to dictate terms to you." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild," said Blueskin, " you are only beating 
 about the bush. Whether it is with the intention of 
 stultifying my intellects or not I know not, but your con- 
 versation comes to just the same point as before. You 
 would offer me my freedom upon conditious,-that I re- 
 enter your service, and deliver Edgworth Bess and Jack 
 Sheppard into your hands, for you to do with them as 
 you may think fit." 
 
 Jonathan clapped his hands. 
 
 " Bravo, Blueskin ! " he said. " Your brain is not half 
 so muddled as I thought it was. You comprehend your 
 position very well indeed." 
 
 " And am I right with regard to the proposal you would 
 make me ? " 
 
 " Perfectly right." 
 
 "Then, Jonathan Wild, I repeat what 1 said a short 
 time ago. My answer is no; if necessary, a thousand 
 times no ! " 
 
 " Oh ! indeed. You refuse ? " 
 
 " Most certainly." 
 
 " Stop a moment. You have not taken all things mio 
 consideration. Believe me, the proposal is made out of 
 the good feeling I have for you." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 "You laugh." 
 
 "Yes, and so would anyone else who heard Jonathan 
 Wild talk about having good feeling for anyone." 
 
 The thief-taker scowled. 
 
 " Blueskin," he said, " I am williug to spare your life' 
 if yon are willing to have your life spared. Do you think 
 tl'dt, if you refuse to assist me in capturing Jack Sheppard 
 and Edgworth Bess, I should fail to do so? No! [ 
 merely mention that as a condition of your freedom, in 
 order that I may be assured of your good faith. A'ffc r 
 that I should have no doubts, and once more take j ou 
 into my confidence, as I did of old. I feci the waDt of 
 you, or, at any rate, of some person upon whom I Cjiild 
 rely." 
 
 " There is your son." 
 
 " I like him not! I like him notl "
 
 BLTJESKIH: A ROMANCE. 
 
 475 
 
 Jonathan frowned darkly as ho spoke. 
 
 Any allusion to his son always disturbed hiru, and on 
 the present occasion his mind was tortured with the sus- 
 picions, which he could not dissipate, respecting the loss 
 of the important packet of papers. 
 
 Blueskin noted the effect his words had upon him. 
 
 " Join me ! " said Wild, chasing away all thoughts of 
 his son ; "join me ! I promise you shall have no occasion 
 to repent of having done so. Join me, I say ! It will be 
 the best for both of U3." 
 
 " That I dispute." 
 
 " When you were at my right hand, I always succeeded 
 in what I undertook, and never met with the vexatious 
 disappointments which lately I have so frequently expe- 
 rienced ; and now I cannot help thinking that you weft} 
 in some mysterious way connected with my successes." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild ! " said Blueskin ; "hear me, once for 
 all. It is impossible for me to join you agaiu, or for us 
 ever to assume our former position with respect to each 
 other. Circumstances have made us foes, and such we 
 must continue." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Wild ; " then do you know what I 
 shall do ? You have confessed yourself in my power ; and 
 well yon know that you are. You cannot save these two 
 persons, and you cannot save yourself, unless you choose 
 to subscribe to my conditions. Let me see ; what is to- 
 day ? Oh ! Saturday. Very good ; that will do capitally. 
 The sessions come on on Wednesday ; you will bo brought 
 up ; case against you ; tried ; found guilty, of course ; 
 sentence of death in due form $ and you will bo hanged on 
 Monday moraine: ! " 
 
 "Jonathan Wild!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " You have been talking a great deal about my being 
 in your power ; do you forget that you are in mine ? " 
 
 Jonathan started. 
 
 But he quickly recovered his self-possession. 
 
 " In what way am I in your power ? " 
 
 " Do you forget with what secrets of yours I am ac- 
 quainted ? When I am brought up for trial I will make 
 a full confession of all your villainies ! " 
 
 " Bah ! bah ! bah ! " 
 
 " You may affect to despise me, but you will find 1 shall 
 be as good as my word." 
 
 " So you may be ! so you may be, and welcome ! Tell 
 all you like — it will make no difference to me. I am in 
 remarkably good odour with the authorities just at present, 
 and it does not matter what you say — all will be put down 
 to the ravings of malice. If you think that gives you any 
 power over me, you are deceived." 
 
 " Well, we shall see." 
 
 " So we shall, if we live long enough ; but the term of 
 your existence is rapidly drawing to a close, unless you 
 choose to reverse your late determination; and I hardly 
 think you will be fool enough to adhere to it." 
 
 " I shall adhere to it. Jonathan Wild, I defy you ! Do 
 your worst ! " 
 
 " I shall keep my word. However, I am willing to 
 give you one more chance for escape. I will come and 
 see you again on Monday. Until then, you can occupy 
 yourself in reflecting over your position ; you will have 
 nothing else to do." 
 
 " You may as well take yonr answer now." 
 
 "I do ; but still, for all that, I shall allow you an 
 opportunity of altering your mind." 
 
 " You need not." 
 
 " Oh ! you don't know." 
 
 " I do." 
 
 " So you may think. You can either tell me where 
 I can find Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess or not, just 
 as you please. Bnt, if you do not tell me, I cannot long 
 remain ignorant of their whereabouts ; and tben, when I 
 have them in my hands, you will no longer have a.u oppor- 
 tunity of proving your good faith." 
 
 " Nor do I require one." 
 
 " But I do." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild, I wish you would believe mo when I 
 say that °11 this talk is idle. You see, after our long 
 interview, things remain just as they were upon the 
 former occasion, and it will be the same always." 
 
 "Then you shall swing ! " said Jonathan, his anger at 
 length getting the better of him ; and, starting up from 
 the stool upon which he sat, as he spoke — "you snail 
 swing ! I would fain have spared you that ignominious 
 
 fate, if I could ; but, since you are resolved upon it, why, 
 you shall swing. It will bo the easiest matter in the 
 world for me to get up a case against you and have you 
 convicted — then all will be over." 
 
 " So you fondly imagine, no doubt." 
 
 " I don't imagine ; I am certain. Farewell ! I leave 
 you yet a chance to change your determination. There is 
 time. I repeat, you can have from now until Monday 
 morning to reflect." 
 
 As he spoke these words, the thief-taker stalked 
 angrily from the cell, taking the torch, and carefully 
 locking the door after him. 
 
 He was much annoyed at the want of success which 
 had attended all the efforts he had made. 
 
 He had spared no trouble — he lad used every argu- 
 ment his imagination could suggest — but all to no pur- 
 pose ; the resolution of the prisoner remained unshaken. 
 
 StUl he scarcely despaired. 
 
 He knew well how powerful an instinct was the desire 
 of life, and he fancied that, even in the eleventh hour, 
 Blueskin would give way. 
 
 How far he was sincere in his proposals, and what 
 would have been the result if Blueskin had consented to 
 them, we leave the reader to judge. 
 
 He must haue obtained a tolerable insight into his 
 character by this time, if possessed of any penetration at 
 all ; and he need only ask himself the question whether, 
 if he was in Blueskin's place, ho would feel inclined to 
 put any faith in his promises. 
 
 Whether ho succeeded or not on the Monday morning, 
 time alone can determine. 
 
 We can only patiently await the progress of events. 
 
 For the present, however, we must leave Jouathan 
 Wild to mature his schemes and meditate fresh villainies, 
 while we devote our attention to the proceedings of Jack 
 Sheppard and Edgworth Bess, of whom we have for so 
 long "jjwt sigLt. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCIII. 
 
 RELATES THE FORTUNES AND ADVENTURES O* JACK 
 SHEPPARD AND EDGWORTH BESS UPON THEIR ARRIVAL 
 IN LONDON. 
 
 When Jack Sheppard, after committing the robbery iu 
 the lane, stopped the stage-coach, he almost lifted Edg- 
 worth Bess into it. 
 
 The events took place with so much rapidity that the 
 poor girl had no time to make even an attempt at resist- 
 ance, and her senses, too, were so distracted that she 
 scarcely knew what she was about. 
 
 She was, indeed, quite passive in Jack's hands. 
 
 Upon fiuding herself in the iuside of the coach, she 
 mechanically sat down upon the vacant seat that wa3 
 nearest to her ; and she had scarcely done so before the 
 vehicle was set in motion again. 
 
 Then she began to rcollect herself somewhat. 
 
 She leant back in her seat, and clasped her hands over 
 her eyes — then burst into a passionate flood of tears. 
 
 Those tears almost broke Jack Sheppard's heart; he 
 could endure, ho thought, any other sight than that of 
 seeing her weeping, and that unmanned him com- 
 pletely. 
 
 There were two other persons inside the coach, and, as 
 they had nothing else better to do, they looked at the two 
 new comers with great curiosity, though the dim light 
 which hung from the roof of the coach did not permit 
 them to see very distinctly. 
 
 But, beyond this regard of inquisitive curiosity, they 
 did not go. 
 
 They did not ask what was the cause of her grief, or 
 inquire whether it was in their power to do anything to 
 assauge it. 
 
 For this, however, Jack was thankful. 
 
 He felt that any interference would exasperate him to 
 such a degree that he should cease to be master of his 
 actions. 
 
 So it was, perhaps, fortunate for all parties that no 
 more notice was taken. 
 
 Jack did not attempt to soothe Edgworth Bess in any 
 way. 
 
 It was not that he felt unwilling to do s> , but because 
 he was at a loss to think what he could say or do that 
 would tend towards it. 
 
 So he was silent.
 
 470 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A H03IA3JCX. 
 
 The coacli rolled on, at what was then consider'' 1 , the 
 wonderful rate of ten or twelve miles an hour 
 
 It was rather an imprudent thing for Jack to «»a..e this 
 journey in so public a manner, but he almost felt careless 
 of all consequences. 
 
 For one thing, he calculated upon arriving in Loudon 
 at an hour when very few persons would be abroad. 
 
 That was the hour just before daybreak. 
 
 And so he was forced to remain silent, and occupy him- 
 self with his own thoughts. 
 
 This was an occupation which did not promise to bo a 
 very pleasing one. 
 
 Ho looked at his fellow-travellers, but, their curiosity 
 being now exhausted, they had ceased to trouble any 
 further about them. ■,..', . 
 
 They were both hard-featured looking men, and, if their 
 countenances were any index to their dispositions, it was 
 certain they possessed little sympathy, and still less com- 
 miseration, for the sufferings of others who might not be 
 so well off as themselves. 
 
 It was in this way, then, that the journey was per- 
 formed. . 
 
 It was not a long one, for Jack had not succeeded in 
 getting very far from London. 
 
 As he expected, the coach pulled up in the Borough, 
 just a little before dawn. 
 
 Some faint signs of the approaching day might have 
 been distinguished by a close observer, but that was all. 
 
 Jack alighted, and paid the fare for himself and his 
 companion. 
 
 This done, he took hold of her arm and led her un- 
 resistingly away. 
 
 But only for a few paces. 
 
 As soon as the inn before which the coach had stopped 
 wai fairly out of sight, Edgworth Bess stopped, and 
 released herself from the slight hold which Jack held 
 upon her arm. 
 
 Then she recoiled a few paces. 
 
 Jack observed this with the greatest surprise. 
 
 But, before he could utter a word, she spoke. 
 
 He made no attempt to interrupt her. 
 
 He felt constrained to listen. 
 
 " Jack," she said, in a voice choked with sobs, " Jack, 
 what booty did you take from that man in the lane ? " 
 
 Jack stammered and hesitated. 
 
 " Let it be what it will, you must restore it to its owner. 
 Money, got in the way you obtained that, will be a curse 
 to us instead of a blessing. I say again, you must restore 
 it ; and in that way make the only reparation you can for 
 the crime you have committed. 
 
 " Impossible." 
 
 " No— no. It is not impossible." 
 
 " It is— believe me, it is. The mischief is done, and 
 cannot be repaired. What, think you, would be the result 
 . of returning these things ? I should be laughed at and 
 captured." 
 
 " No, not captured." 
 
 " Yes, I should. They would certainly give me into 
 custody." 
 
 " Then, Jack, there is one other thing you must do." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Nay, do not come any closer. Since, by your own 
 showing it is impossible for you to restore these things, 
 you must fling them away." 
 
 " Fling them away ? " 
 
 " Yes ; and if you really have that regard for me which 
 you profess to have, you will not hesitate a single moment 
 to do as I desire. FliDg those things away." 
 
 "And starve?" 
 
 " Yes, and starve. It will be better that we should do 
 that than procure food by such means. It will be the 
 means of getting us into still further trouble. Take my 
 advice, and fling them all away." 
 
 " The money, too ? " asked Jack. 
 
 " Yes, every farthing of it, for it will never do us any 
 good, but bring us into fresh difficulties and dangers. 
 Oh ! Jack, how could you have committed such an act ? " 
 
 Tears checked further utterance. 
 
 Jack endeavoured to draw closer to her, but she shrunk 
 from him and avoided him. 
 
 He was as much pained as surprised at this behaviour. 
 
 He could not understand it. 
 
 " I acted for the best," he said, apologetically ; " or as 
 I thought for the best. But, now that the mischief is 
 
 done, do not ask me to fling the money away. That 
 would be madness, situated as we now are." 
 
 " You refuse, then ? " 
 
 " I do not exactly refuse," said Jack, hesitatingly, 
 "but" 
 
 " Oh ! Jack, do uot cause me to alter my good opinion 
 of you. Be guided by me, and, take my word for it, it 
 will be best. Fling all that money away which you have 
 obtained by such dishonest means, and try to obtain some 
 more in a better manner." 
 
 " You know not what you ask," said Jack. " If I 
 throw this money away what is to become of us ? " 
 
 " We must trust in Providence." 
 
 " If we do, we shall indeed have a frail dependence." 
 
 " Jack ! " 
 
 " I repeat again, we shall have a frail dependence. I 
 have no faith in this same Providence which people prate 
 so much about. If it had any regard for innocence and 
 suffering it would not have permitted you to remain so 
 long in the condition you are." 
 
 "Oh! Jack — Jack! Do not speak like that — pray do 
 not. If you do, you will break my heart — indeed you 
 
 " You will break mine if you continue to sob and weep 
 like you do now. Cheer up ! Believe me, all will yet be 
 well." 
 
 " It will be well if you will fling away that money. 
 Oh ! do not hesitate any longer. In London money can 
 be procured by honest and honourable means. If you can- 
 not obtain it, I will try to do so." 
 
 " You speak in ignorance of the world." 
 
 " I may do. But I speak that which is right, and you 
 cannot deny it. Fling that money away , I pray you." 
 
 " But Blueskiu," urged Jack. " Think of him. He is, 
 doubtless, a prisoner in the power of the villain Wild. 
 The gold you ask me to cast away would, perhaps, pro- 
 cure his freedom. Do you not wish that object to be 
 attained ? " 
 
 "I do. Heaven knows I do. But you must accomplish 
 it by some other means than those." 
 
 Jack was silent. 
 
 He was unwilling to refuse anything which his compa- 
 nion asked, but this last request seemed to him to be 
 quite out of the bounds of reason. 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 "Oh! Jack," continued Edgworth Bess, " if you only 
 knew the anguish I suffered while we were in that coach. 
 But, while I suffered, I reflected, and came to a resolu- 
 tion." 
 
 " What was it ? " 
 
 " I resolved to urge this upon you, even as I have 
 done, and try whether I could not persuade you to act in 
 accordance with my wishes, and then, in the event of your 
 refusing " 
 
 " What ?— oh ! what ? " 
 
 " I thought you might refuse, though I hoped and 
 trusted that you would not. Still, if you did " 
 
 A fresh gush of tears prevented her from announcing 
 her resolution. 
 
 Jack's anxiety was extreme. 
 
 " If you did refuse, Jack," she said at length, recover- 
 ing from her emotion with a great effort — " if you did 
 refuse, I should part from you." 
 
 " Part from me ? " 
 
 " Yes. You have the choice of two alternatives. You 
 must either cast away that ill-gotten money or cast away 
 me. Now, which will you do ? " 
 
 " Oh ! Bess ; you torture me to madness. Do, I pray 
 you, listen." 
 
 " Forbear to use any arguments. No matter how good 
 you might consider them — they would be powerless with 
 me ; they would not induce me to alter my determina- 
 tion." 
 
 " But one word " 
 
 " Not even one ! No, Jack ; you must tell me at once 
 which you will do. Can it be possible that you hesi- 
 tate ? " 
 
 " I cannot believe that you are in earnest ; or, if you 
 are at the present moment, I think, ere long, you will 
 repent, aud wish that " 
 
 " Never, never ! Do not think such a thing as that for 
 a single moment." 
 
 " 1 wish, dearest, that you would come nearer to me, 
 that you would allow me to persuade "— —
 
 jLCESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 m 
 
 " Yon cannot persuade me ! No, Jack ; let us cease 
 this dispute at once. Eithei- you cast away that money, 
 or we part, and henceforth our paths will He in opposite 
 directions." 
 
 Jack was torn with conflicting emotions. 
 
 He was willing to do as his companion asked him, but 
 he was unable to see the policy of it. He asked himself 
 the pertinent question of what were they to do in the 
 event of consenting to part with the money ? 
 
 Bess observed the conflict that was going on in his 
 mind, and was silent. 
 
 At length she spoke. 
 
 " Have you decided ? " she asked. 
 
 " I cannot decide without you listen tc* what I have to 
 urge upon you." 
 
 " Farewell, then. Farewell. We must part." 
 
 She sobbed bitterly. 
 
 " No — no ! we must not part ! " said Jack, springing 
 forward, and endeavouring to catch hold of her apparel. 
 
 But she eluded him, and increased the distance that 
 already existed between them, and continued to retreat as 
 Jack advanced. 
 
 He paused, for he felt that no good could be accom- 
 plished in that way. 
 
 " Oh ! Bess," he cried, " do not present me to such a 
 terrible alternative. Without this money wo shall 
 perish " 
 
 " And, if you retain it, we shall part." 
 
 " No— no/' 
 
 " But I say yes. My determination, so far from being 
 altered, is strengthened. You cannot shake it. Jack, 
 must we part ? " 
 
 " No — no ; ten thousand times no." 
 
 " Then cast away the money." 
 
 " Oh ! do not press this point ; pray do not. Make 
 some kind of compromise." 
 
 " No — no ; none. I can, however, see that you, like 
 me, have come to a determination. Well, I am sorry. I 
 trust you will not abide by it." 
 
 " What do you meau ? " 
 
 " I see that you are resolved to keep the money." 
 
 ■ No— no." 
 
 " Cast it away, then." 
 
 " No— no." 
 
 " I feared this would be the result. Farewell ! Jack ; 
 farewell ! We must part. One word before I go. Will 
 you cast away that money ? " 
 
 "Nay, I" 
 
 " Enough — enough ; say no more. I shall urge this 
 matter no further. You have decided. Farewell ! " 
 
 No words sould possibly express the anguished tone 
 with which these words were uttered. 
 
 No sooner had she spoken them, -than she turned round 
 and glided away into the semi-darkness like a shadow. 
 
 She vanished immediately. 
 
 For a moment, at least, Jack Sheppard was so petrified 
 with astonishment that he was unable to move band or 
 foot. 
 
 But, when the power of volition was restored to him, he 
 uttered a loud cry, and darted off in the direction which 
 Edgworth Bess had taken. 
 
 But the turnings about that spot were perplexingly 
 numerous, and no trace of her could be seen. 
 
 Scarcely daring to believe in the reality of what had just 
 taken place, Jack Sheppard cried aloud — 
 
 " Bess, darling — Bess, darling ! come back to me. Oh ! 
 pray come back to me. Come back, and I will no longer 
 hesitate to consent to your wishes ; but come back, I pray 
 you ! Answer me ! Speak one little word to let me know 
 where you have concealed yourself! We cannot part 
 thus ; it is impossible ! Bess— Bess ! Answer me ! Come 
 back ! " 
 
 Jack ceased 
 
 The violence 01 his emotion overcame him . 
 
 He could no longer give utterance to his supplicatory 
 words. 
 
 He had raised his voice until it became a loud shout. 
 
 It rang with a startling effect through the silent and 
 deserted streets. 
 
 But no reply came, save the wailing echo of his own 
 words. 
 
 Distracted and maddened. Jack rushed frantically down 
 the turning opposite to where I;a stood, and which he 
 fancied his companion must have taken. ' 
 
 He continued his cries as he sped along it, to the sur- 
 prise of those persons who happened, at that early hour, 
 to be abroad. 
 
 At length the end of the street was gained, aud 
 numerous others spread out before him, leading in every 
 conceivable direction. 
 
 He paused, and, with the hopelessness of despair, re- 
 newed his cries. 
 
 But all in vain. 
 
 They met with no response. 
 
 His decision came too late. 
 
 Had she melted in the misty morning air, Edgworth 
 Bess could not have disappeared more suddenly and com- 
 pletely than she had done. 
 
 Stupefied and bewildered with grief and astonishment, 
 Jack Sheppard once more looked around him. 
 
 He found himself surrounded by a throng of curious, 
 eager persons, each of whom stretched their heads for- 
 ward to see and hear what was taking place. 
 
 When he perceived this, Jack shrank back from the 
 public observation he had drawn upon himself, aud, with 
 his heart almost bursting with grief, and his eyes blinded 
 by tears which he could not repress, he rushed along the 
 empty thoroughfares. 
 
 But he no longer called upon Edgworth Bess, and 
 implored her to return. 
 
 His voice refused him. 
 
 His throat was swollen, and, had his life depended upon 
 it, he could not have articulated a single word. 
 
 At length, breathless and exhausted, he sank down 
 upon some stone steps that led up to some edifice. 
 
 What he did not look to see. 
 
 His strength was quite spent. 
 
 He could go no further. 
 
 He buried his face in his hands, and groaned. 
 
 Tears, too, the first he had shed for many a long diy, 
 forced their way through his fingers, and trickled down on 
 to the steps. 
 
 He groaned heavily. 
 
 All other evils and calamities were now forgotten. 
 
 He could remember nothing, and think of nothing, but 
 the terrible loss he had sustained. 
 
 By degrees, however, his grief abated in its violence, 
 and then, becoming conscious of some slight sound near 
 him, he looked up, and again found himself surrounded by 
 a curious crowd of people, who all wondered what was the 
 cause of his grief. 
 
 No sooner did Jack make this discovery than he started 
 to his feet. 
 
 The people involuntarily made way for him. 
 
 Jack darted through their ranks in a moment, and fled. 
 
 Such despair and grief as he now felt, he had never 
 before experienced. 
 
 He had lost Edgworth Bess, and entirely through his 
 own fault. 
 
 This knowledge inflicted fresh poignancy. 
 
 Where to look for her now he knew not. 
 
 He had not yet sufficiently recovered the use of his 
 faculties to be able to think with any degree of calmness 
 upon the subject. 
 
 He only exhausted himsslf by rushing in all directions, 
 without pursuing any method. 
 
 In this way it happened that he frequently went over 
 the same ground twice. 
 
 At length, upon looking around him, he saw he had 
 again reached the spot where their brief conversation had 
 taken place. 
 
 He knew it again in a moment. 
 
 Then he grew calmer. 
 
 The tumult of his mind gradually subsided. 
 
 He looked around him. 
 
 It was now broad daylight, and that spot which, a few 
 hours before, had been completely deserted, was now filled 
 with people. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCIT. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD RESOLVES UPON ONCE MORE MAKING 
 HIS WAY INTO WILD'S HOUSE, AND ATTEMPTING THE 
 RESCUE OF BLUESKIN. 
 
 But, although Jack continued thus to look around him, he 
 was unable to see anything that would serve as a clue to 
 the whereabouts of the poor heiress. 
 He was filled with dread on hex acoount, not so much in
 
 478 
 
 BLTTESKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 consequence of the danger a friendless, penniless, and un- 
 protected girl must necessarily run in London, but because 
 he had little doubt that, ere long, sbe must fall an easy 
 prey into the clutches of her implacable enemies. 
 
 This almost drove him to madness, because he had no 
 one he eould accuse cf driving her into this great danger 
 but himself. 
 
 She was gone — utterly and completely gone. 
 
 It seemed at first like a dream, but its reality soon 
 pressed itself upon bim. 
 
 In a more systematic and logical manner than he had 
 adopted hitherto, he recommenced his search. 
 
 In spite of the danger he brought upon himself by so 
 doing, he inquired after his missing companion ef every 
 person he met. 
 
 But no one could give him any intelligence. 
 
 He inquired at every house in every street contiguous 
 to the one in which she had disappeared, and still with 
 the same disappointing result. 
 
 No one had seen her. 
 
 No one knew anything about her. 
 
 At length, after many hours of unsuccessful search, he 
 crawled into a public-house, and, thoroughly wearied, he 
 sunk down upon a seat, and called for refreshment. 
 
 His position now, terrible as it was before, seemed ten 
 times worse. 
 
 Indeed, in comparison, it sunk into insignificance. 
 
 Where Blueskin was, or what was his fate, he was 
 equally ignorant as he was of the situation of Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 His grief now had almost passed away, and was suc- 
 ceeded by a deep and hopeless despair. 
 
 He felt almost as though he could give himself up to 
 his foes, and no longer continue his desperate fight 
 against the force of fate. 
 
 In this frame of mind he remained for a long time, but 
 at length hope slowly returned to his heart. 
 
 He resolved, if possible, to find Blueskin. 
 
 With this intent he rose and left the public-houst. 
 
 Upon going out into the streets again he found it was 
 quite dark, and that night bad fairly come. 
 
 A cool wind swept past, and he felt grateful for it. 
 
 It cooled the fever of his brain, for his head and face 
 were hot and flushed. 
 
 Jack, almost without considering upon the subject, 
 directed his steps towards Newgate-street. 
 
 The impression that Blueskin had fallen into the hands 
 of Jonathan Wild had taken hold of his mind with the 
 full force of conviction. 
 
 He knew the character of the thief-taker too well to 
 think that Blueskin' s life was in any immediate danger. 
 
 In pursuing his refined system of revenge, he would 
 consign him to the gallows, and that was a work of time. 
 
 The distance to Newgate-street was not great, and 
 Jack soon arrived there. 
 
 The bustle of the day had subsided, and the streets 
 were beginning to wear an empty look. 
 
 A slight rain that was falling tended, too, to clear the 
 streets somewhat earlier than usual. 
 
 Jack passed the huge, gloomy prison of Newgate, and 
 looked up at its black and dismal walls with a shudder. 
 
 He did not linger near it, however, but turned the 
 comer Into Newgate-street, where the residence of the 
 thief-taker was situated. 
 
 It was here that he imagined Blueskin was most likely 
 to be found. 
 
 Upon arriving opposite the ruinous structure, he 
 crossed over on to the other sido of the street, and looked 
 up at it. 
 
 Prom none of the windows came the feeblest gleam of 
 light. 
 
 Whether Blueskin was there or not, Jack had na means 
 of telling. 
 
 What would he not have given for the possession of 
 some full and definite information ? 
 
 It was on this night that Jonathan and his sou con- 
 ducted their search in Lord Donmull's mansion in Picca- 
 dilly. 
 
 Both were from home, and remained so for many 
 hours. 
 
 It was on that night, and about the sam^ hour that 
 Jack stood looking up at the thief-taker's dismal edifice, 
 that Blueskin made his abortive attempt to escap«. 
 
 Oh ! if Jack bad onbj known that ! 
 
 How easily would he have made his way to that \ 
 window, and assisted his comrade out on to the roof and 
 into some place of safety. 
 
 He saw, indeed, the window open, and he saw the 
 dark form appear at it, but the obscurity and distanee 
 were both too great for him to distinguish what it was. 
 
 Indeed, he dreaded that it was one of his foes ; and, 
 fearful of being seen, he drew back still further into the 
 shadow of the houses close to which he stood. 
 
 It was in vain that Jack perplexed his brain and taxed 
 his inventive powers to discover some means by which he 
 could assertain whether Blueskin was really a prisoner or 
 not. 
 
 The only course he could think of, was by making his 
 way, by some means or other, into the house, and ascer- 
 taining whether he was really there or not. 
 
 But the risk of such a course of action as this was so 
 great that Jack shrunk from encountering it. 
 
 Should he unfortunately be taken prisoner at that 
 juncture, their position would be terrible indeed. 
 
 That move, then, must be abandoned. 
 
 And so Jack stood irresolute, when, if he could only 
 have known what was taking place within, he could have 
 rendered important service. 
 
 In the contemplation of the probable situation of 
 Blueskin and Edgworth Bess, he totally forgot his own 
 danger. 
 
 _ He did not remember that an accurate description of 
 himself had been extensively circulated, and that a large 
 reward would be paid for his apprehension and lodgment 
 in any of the city prisons. 
 
 And yet there he stood, calmly enough, within twenty 
 paces of the outer wall of Newgate. 
 
 A thousand half-formed schemes by which he could 
 accomplish his designs flitted through his brain, but none 
 of them was clever enough for elaboration. 
 
 Something occurred to make them all impracticable. 
 
 And so, in this state of irresolution, he remained idle 
 when he ought to have been actively at work. 
 
 It is more than probable that the sudden disappearance 
 of Edgworth Bess was a great obstruction to his inven- 
 tive powers, which, in ordinary circumstances, were by no 
 mean3 to be despised. 
 
 Now, however, his mind was divided between two 
 objects, instead of being concentrated upon one. 
 
 It is not surprising, therefore, that in so difficult a 
 matter he should be at fault. 
 
 It was in vain he tried to banish all recollection of the 
 poor heiress ; but he could not — the recollection of her 
 loss, and his terrible uncertainty as to where she now was, 
 perpetually intraded themselves. 
 
 In this fruitless manner the whole night was spent. 
 
 To be sure, he did not stand all the while upon the 
 spot, but he hovered round about the thief-taker's resi- 
 dence, keeping careful guard. 
 
 But he was not rewarded for his trouble in any way. 
 
 Dawn at last approached, and then, fearful that if he 
 remained there any longer he should be discovered and 
 captured, he slunk away. 
 
 Besides which, he was weary in body and sick at 
 heart. 
 
 He felt as though it would be a comfort to lie down 
 and die. 
 
 Hungry, cold, and wretched, then, he crept away from 
 Wild's house, with the intention of finding some place 
 where he could shelter himself and recuperate his ex- 
 hausted energies. 
 
 Had he but stayed a few minutes longer than he did, 
 he would have seen Quilt Arnold emerge and return with 
 Mr. Snoxall, the apothecary, whom he called in to attend 
 to Blueskin on a discovery of him in his helpless condi- 
 tion. 
 
 Jack did not see this, but, going down a few narrow 
 thoroughfares, found himself in the street called Little 
 Britain. 
 
 Here there was a coffee-house, which he entered. 
 
 He called first for some refreshment, which the sinking 
 of his system required him to take, and then asked for a 
 bed. 
 
 Entering a wretched room at the top of the house, ho 
 threw himself, dressed just as he was, upon a still more 
 wretched bed. 
 
 He closed his eyes, and endeavoured to woo sleep, bat 
 sleep came not* 
 
 i
 
 3LUESKI>' : A ROMANCE. 
 
 479 
 
 He tossed over and over, tormented and distracted with 
 his thoughts. 
 
 At length he fell off into an uneasy slumber, which 
 was disturbed by dreams of the most terrific description. 
 
 They were a distorted image of the events which had 
 recently taken place, and in them Blueskin, Jonathan Wild, 
 and Edgworth Bess figured in strange confusion. 
 
 By degrees, however, as exhausted Nature asserted her 
 claims, his sleep deepened, until at length he slumbered 
 profoundly and dreamlessly. 
 
 It was evening when he awoke, and the room was 
 already full of sbadow. 
 
 But though he awoke he did not offer to move, but lay 
 quite still upon the bed. 
 
 In the silence and semi-darkness of that room he 
 thought he should be better able to collect his thoughts 
 than elsewhere. 
 
 He tried to keep himself calm, but this was a most 
 difficult task. 
 
 At one moment he thought he would hunt the king- 
 dom over until he found Edgworth Bess. 
 
 At the nest he would determine to discover whether 
 Blueskin really was an inmate of Wild's house, and if so 
 to procure his freedom, and then, with his assistance, 
 endeavour to discover Edgworth Bess. 
 
 But both of these enterprises seemed to be beset with 
 insuperable obstacles, and when he reflected upon them, 
 his spirit, dauntless as it was, seemed to shrink back, 
 crushed and appalled. 
 
 At length he resolved to return once more to Jonathan 
 Wild's house. 
 
 The only hope he had was that he would be more suc- 
 cessful than on the preceding night in discovering some- 
 thing that would serve him as a clue. 
 
 This determination being the only rational one he could 
 come to, he at once put it in practice. 
 
 He took up his position much in the same place. 
 
 But on this occasion his patience was not destined to 
 be put to so severe a trial as on the preceding one. 
 
 Soon after his arrival he saw the door of the thief- 
 taker's house opened. 
 
 There was very little light, but still Jack was able to 
 distinguish the forms of Jonathan Wild and someone else, 
 whom he did not recognize. 
 
 That was Jonathan Wild's son. 
 
 As the reader, doubtless, surmises, they were about 
 setting out upon their little expedition to the lawyer's 
 chambers in the Temple, in search of the important 
 packet of papers. 
 
 Jack saw them sally forth, and go arm-in-arm down the 
 street. 
 
 What could be their destination ? 
 
 This, he thought, would in all probability be well 
 worth ascertaining ; so, with a silent and stealthy tread, 
 he followed them at a distance, taking care to keep him- 
 self concealed beneath the shadows of the houses. 
 
 Not for a moment did he lose sight of their dusky 
 forms, which were just visible in the darkness. 
 
 He kept upon their track, and dogged them to the gate 
 in Fleet-street leading into the Temple. 
 
 He was much surprised to find them halt here, and 
 could not conjecture what business they could have there 
 at such an unwonted hour of the night. 
 
 From the opposite side of the road, Jack observed all 
 that took place. 
 
 He stood just beneath the archway leading into Bell- 
 yard. 
 
 From this advantageous position he saw Wild, and the 
 person by whom he was acoompanied, pass through the 
 gate. 
 
 He saw, too, that the gate was closed and locked after 
 them. 
 
 Little did the thief-taker and his son imagine at that 
 moment that Jack Sheppard was so close to them. 
 
 But so he was. 
 
 He watched them until they quite disappeared in the 
 deep gloom of the Temple, and then he pressed hid hands 
 over his brow, and strove to think what would be the 
 best thing he could do 
 
 *■ He is out now," he muttered. "I am quite certain 
 of that, and the probability is that he will remain out for 
 sometime. The coast is as clear now as I can ever hope 
 to find it. I will return to his house at once, and try 
 whether I cannot set the question a-trest of ascertaining 
 
 whether Blueskin really is a prisoner in his hands or 
 not." 
 
 As he uttered these words, he turned round, and made 
 his way back to Newgate-street with all possible speed. 
 
 On his way thither, however, he occupied himself by 
 revolving in his mind which were the best means of 
 entering the thief-taker's house ; for, as the reader may 
 have guessed, this was what Jack had determined upon 
 doing. 
 
 A more desperate undertaking could scarcely have been 
 conceived, and the probability is that no one would have 
 dreamt of attempting it but Jack Sheppard. 
 
 For some time he was unable to come to a conclusion 
 upon this point, until, at length, he recollected the means 
 by which he had once before entered. 
 
 " Blueskin would be in the cells, if anywhere," ho 
 muttered ; " I am quite sure of that. It is to the cells, 
 then, that I must make my way. That will do it. At 
 least, I hope it will, but I fear Jonathan has taken means 
 to prevent me from ever playing him such a trick again. 
 And yet, who knows ? he may have omitted to do so." 
 
 This was but a frail hope, but still Jack clung to it, 
 for the simple reason that no better one presented 
 itself. 
 
 It will not be necessary to tell the reader Jack's precise 
 intentions. They will be well enough seen by following 
 his actions. 
 
 He changed his course, then, in the first place, and did 
 not make his way into Newgate-street ; but, plunging 
 through a wilderness of narrow streets, at length emerged 
 into Warwick-lane. 
 
 Turning to the left, he passed on rapidly until he came 
 to the well-remembered archway leading into Newgate- 
 market. 
 The iron gate* were closed and locked. 
 But these were no obstacles to Jack. 
 Looking up, he saw there was room to squeeze himself 
 between the top of the ironwork and the masonry ; and 
 he at once set about climbing up the gates. 
 
 This was by no means a difficult feat, and Jack easily 
 accomplished it. 
 He let himself down in safety on the other side. 
 The market was plunged in utter darkness, but, heed- 
 less of that, Jack pursued his course unhesitatingly in a 
 certain direction. 
 
 Down the long, dark avenues he sped, until, at length, 
 he paused before a small door set in the wall. 
 
 He ran his hand hastily over it, in the hope of finding 
 a fastening of some kind, but in this hope he was 
 defeated. 
 
 Then he tried whether it would yield, but it resisted all 
 the pressure he could apply to it. 
 
 Finding this to be the case, he made no further attempt 
 to open it, but, retracing his steps along the passage, 
 emerged into one of the open places in the market. 
 
 Here he looked about him for a moment, and then 
 made his way towards a shed, the roof of which he endea- 
 voured to gain. 
 
 There were several projections of various kinds, and of 
 these he availed himself. 
 
 By their aid he succeeded in getting upon the roof of 
 the shed. 
 
 This was slanting, but he made his way up it at good 
 speed, for he never stumbled once. 
 
 Upon reaching the top of the shed, he found himself 
 upon a wall of great thickness. 
 
 He looked down, and endeavoured to ascertain the 
 depth to the ground. 
 
 He failed to do this, but he fancied the depth was con- 
 siderable. 
 
 Still he did not hesitate. 
 
 Carefully lowering himself over the brink, until he 
 hung down the full length of his arm, he prepared to drop 
 th° distance. 
 
 Ho let go as soon as he had steadied himself, and 
 reached the ground with rather a severe shock. 
 But he did not lose his feet. 
 
 He could not avoid making some slight noise in his fall, 
 and now he stopped and listened whether any alarm had 
 been given before he ventured to move. 
 But all was still. 
 
 Finding this to bs the case, he turned round. 
 " At last," he muttered. " At last." 
 From what has been previously related, we doubt not
 
 480 
 
 BI'OESKIN: A B0MA2ICE. 
 
 tbat the reader will be already aware of what place it was 
 into which Jack had thus made his way. 
 
 It was the yard at the back of the thief-taker's house. 
 
 It will be recollected that, on a former occasion, he had 
 been so fortunate as to discover in the yard a secret mode 
 of entrance to the cells. 
 
 For what reason this secret and apparently disused 
 entrance had been constructed, Jack knew not, though 
 the mystery will be cleared up. 
 
 Without much trouble Jack found the iron ring in the 
 flagstone. 
 
 He turned it round as before, and was rejoiced to find 
 the slab come up when he pulled. 
 
 In precisely the same manner, then, as was related at 
 full-length in the eighty-fourth chapter of this history, he 
 made his way into the corridor from which the cells 
 opened. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had he passed though the secret 
 door and closed it after him, than he heard a faint sound, 
 as though someone was descending the steps at the further 
 end of the passage, and about to pay a visit to the cells. 
 
 This suspicion was very quickly converted into a cer- 
 tainty. 
 
 He distinctly heard the tread of a heavy foot upon the 
 stone steps. 
 
 Then he saw the faint glimmering of a light upon the 
 moist and humid walls. 
 
 Someone was coming. 
 
 For a moment Jack forgot that Wild was from home, 
 and the dread came over his heart that it was no other 
 than the thief-taker who was approaching. 
 
 But, whether it was or not, his discovery seemed cer- 
 tain. 
 
 What should he do ? 
 
 Hastily he glanced round him in search of a hiding- 
 place, but none appeared. 
 
 Cell-doors were on each side of him. 
 
 He knew that, when unoccupied, the cells were merely 
 fastened by an iron bar, which was placed across them, 
 end sometimes not even by this. 
 
 This suggested a chance — a desperate chance, but the 
 only one. 
 
 He might make his way into one of the empty cells, 
 and secrete himself there until the visit was over. 
 
 Acting upon this, he lifted down, with the utmost 
 rapidity, the bar which was placed across the door nearest 
 to him. 
 
 He pushed the door. 
 
 It yielded. 
 
 The cell, then, was an empty one. 
 
 He glided in with the swiftness of an apparition. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCV. 
 
 WILD, JUNIOR, HAS SOME TROUBLE IN FINDING A SECURE 
 HIDING-PLACE FOR THB PACKET OF PAPERS. 
 
 The tide of events now cai-ries us away from Jack.Skep- 
 pard, but only for a moment. 
 
 We shall return to a relation of what happened to him 
 after entering the empty cell almost immediately. 
 
 We wish now, for a short time, to direct the attention 
 of the reader to the proceedings of Wild, junior. 
 
 After so successfully removing the suspicions which his 
 father had entertained, namely, that he (George) had 
 stolen the packet of papers, his features expanded into a 
 grin, as the thief-taker left his bedchamber and closed the 
 door after him. 
 
 He remained without moving for some moments, and 
 with precisely the same expression of satisfaction upon his 
 countenance. 
 
 This was while he listened to the sound of his father's re- 
 treating footsteps, in order to make sure that he really had 
 gone away and not made a pretence of doing so while he 
 lurked just outside the door in readiness to pop an at an 
 unexpected moment. 
 
 He knew his worthy parent was quite capable of such a 
 trick. 
 
 Indeed, he was not satisfied with hearing him retire, 
 but he crossed the floor of the room stealthily, and then 
 opened the door with great suddenness. 
 
 But all this cleverness was expended in vain. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was not there. 
 
 He had really retired. 
 
 _ What suspicions he had had, his son had succeeded, by 
 his consummate cunning and address, in removing. 
 
 All without was dark and silent, and it was with a feel- 
 ing of the utmost satisfaction that Wild, junior, closed 
 the door again and turned the key in the lock, so as to be 
 secure from any very sudden intrusion. 
 
 " There really is no sort of doubt," he muttered, in a 
 low tone of voice ; " there is really no sort of doubt that 
 the guv'nor's a d — d fool, or else he would not have 
 suffered himsplf to be taken in in this manner. It's either 
 that, or else I'm a d— d clever fellow. I think it must be 
 the last, for the guv'nor would not take me in very 
 easily." ? 
 
 He sat himself down on the edge of the bed. 
 
 " I have got those papers all safe," he continued ; 
 " there's no sort of doubt about that. And very impor- 
 tant they are, too. But, most of all, the guv'nor has no 
 suspicion. He had at first, though. How strange he 
 should hit upon the guilty party so soon ! However, he 
 will be rather confused now, I think. But, stop ! I must 
 not congratulate myself so fast. I have got the papers, 
 but where shall I hide them ? — that's the question." 
 
 Wild, junior, looked all round his bedchamber as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " I must find a good hiding-place, a poor one won't do 
 at all. I shall never be able to tell when the guv'nor may 
 feel his suspicions return, nor how soon he may take it 
 into his head to make a thorough search of this room. 
 Where on earth can I hide them ? " 
 
 This was a very, very important question, and Wild, 
 junior, felt all its momentousness. 
 
 He rose from his seat on the bedside, and went all over 
 the room, peering into odd nooks and corners, and shaking 
 his head every time he asked himself the question whether 
 the place would suit. 
 
 He knew his father was not an ordinary man, more 
 especially when looking for hidden things was concerned ; 
 and, therefore, it behoved him to be very careful where he 
 deposited the precious packet. 
 
 An hour passed by without his having come to any 
 definite decision. 
 
 At one time he thought of leaving his room, and 
 secreting the packet in some other part of the house, but 
 he considered the risk of it being found was almost, if not 
 quite, as great; and besides which, there was the chance 
 of exciting his father's suspicions afresh if he heard him 
 leave his chamber. 
 
 He had thought of every hiding-place the room afforded, 
 but without being over well pleased with either ; but at 
 length he decided upon one which he considered, upon 
 reflection, was the most eligible. 
 
 This was beneath the flooring of the room, or, rather 
 between it and the ceiling of the room below. 
 
 He imagined that if he carefully raised one of the 
 planks and placed the packet under it, and then fastened 
 the plank down in such a manner that its ordinary appear- 
 ance was preserved, that it would be likely to escape his 
 father's observation, should any search be made. 
 
 At any rate, as he could find out no better hiding- 
 place, he was, in a manner of speaking, compelled to adopt 
 it. 
 
 Before he commenced operations he went to the door, 
 and, opening it, looked out and listened. 
 
 All was silent. 
 
 Believing, then, that he had the place entirely to him- 
 self, he closed the door again, and, having locked it, set 
 about his task of concealing the papers without further 
 loss of time. 
 
 He took his candle, and, by the aid which its dim light 
 afforded, made as good an examination of the floor as ho 
 was able. 
 
 The thief-taker's house was an old one, and in this 
 chamber, as in most of the others, the flooring was worn 
 and uneven, so that the removal and replacement of a 
 board would not be so likely to be noticed as it would in 
 a room where the floor was even and level. 
 
 Moreover, his task would be much easier. 
 
 Wild, junior, deposited the candle on the floor, and pro- 
 duced from his pocket a crowbar. 
 
 It was in two pieces ; each about twelve inches in 
 length. 
 
 They screwed together in the middle, and then formed 
 a very effective weapon for burglurious and other pur- 
 poses.
 
 BLTJESK1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 481 
 
 [ABEI, DONMULL RECEIVES HIS DEATH AT THE HANDS OF JONATHAN WILD.] 
 
 One end wa quite sharp, being formed into a kind of 
 spikx 
 
 With this Wild, junior, would Lave little trouble in 
 raising a board. 
 
 He knelt down, and inserted it between oue of the 
 crevices. 
 
 A crackling, splitting noise followed which rather 
 alarmed him, and he stopped suddenly and listened. 
 
 He was afraid the sounds would reach his father's ears, 
 and be the means of betraying him. 
 
 But no one seemed disturbed, and, reassured by the 
 silence, he recommenced his task with greater caution. 
 
 Still he could not be quite silent ; a slight splitting 
 noise as the nails were wrenched from their K old was un- 
 avoidable. 
 
 At every few minutes would he pause to listen, and his 
 excited fancy made him think he heard slight sounds 
 which, in reality, existed only in his imagination. 
 
 At length he raised the board sufficiently to answer his 
 purpose, and, by using the crow-bar as a prop, kept it in 
 the required positiou. 
 
 He looked down into the space below. 
 
 It was half-filled with dust and cobwebs. 
 
 The place seemed admirably adapted for the conceai 
 ment of any small object, such as the packet of papers. 
 
 George took hold of it, and, not without some misgiving, 
 consigned it to the dark recess. 
 
 He was full of dread lest it should be discovered. 
 
 In order to preserve the papers as much as possible 
 from receiving any external injury, he wrapped them up 
 carefully in his handkerchief. 
 
 He then pushed them under the flooring, until a joist 
 prevented him from pushing them any further. 
 
 The most difficult part of his task, however, had yet is 
 come. 
 
 That was to replace the board in such a manner that nr> 
 suspicion should be aroused by its presenting an a(u>")d 
 appearance. 
 
 It was necessary, too, that this should be done silently. 
 
 He removed the iron bar, and gently pressed the v-U'CC 
 of wood back into its place. 
 
 In raising it, however, the rusty nails by which it wa» 
 
 No. 61.
 
 A UOilAlv'CJs. 
 
 secured bad been bent to such a degree tbat be could not 
 press it down close. 
 
 lie bad no resource but to draw them out and straighten 
 them, and this was a task which quite exhausted bis 
 patience. 
 
 But at last it was accomplished. 
 
 Then, one by one, he placed them iu the holes provided 
 for tbeir reception, and by tbe aid of the blunt end of the 
 crow-bar hammered them down. 
 
 " Thank the fates! " he said, as be raised himself and 
 straightened his back, " that job is over. I believe I have 
 done it ail right. I don't believe the guv'nor or anyone 
 else heard me, I made such a little noise. I must alter 
 the look of that, though." 
 
 Looking down at bis work, he perceived a small heap of 
 black dust, wbich, in some way or other, he must have 
 removed from the recess beneath. 
 
 It ky upon the floor, and would, perhaps, be the means 
 of exciting suspicion. 
 
 He stooped down with the intention of removing it, but 
 it then occurred to him that he might make it useful. 
 
 Taking it up between his finger and thumb, be patiently 
 filled with it the interstice between the edges of tho board 
 he had removed, and those next to it. 
 
 When this was accomplished, he thought his hiding- 
 place would defy detection. 
 
 " The guVnor's a d — d sight cleverer than I take him to 
 be if he finds that out. I know he won't do it, for there 
 is nothing suspicious about that plank, any more than 
 there is about tbe rest. Now I have him in my power. 
 But let me see. How shall I act now ? I must be careful, 
 or he will get the best of me. Now, I wonder whether it 
 would answer my purpose best to turn round against him 
 altogether ? If I thought so, I would do it in a moment. 
 I must not be too precipitate, however, or else I may 
 spoil myself altogether. I had better get into bed, and 
 think the matter quietly over. I may as well take time 
 to consider. There is no need to precipitate matters ; not 
 a bit." 
 
 And so George Wild, very well pleased with himself 
 and his prospects, prepared to retire to rest. 
 
 As he had said, he tried to think the matter over, and 
 decide what be should do. 
 
 While thus engaged, he fell off to sleep. 
 
 When this event took place, however, he could not say, 
 nor how long his slumber continued, but he was aroused 
 by bearing a slight sound. 
 
 He did not thoroughly awake, but lay in a state of semi- 
 consciousness. 
 
 But, the noise being repeated, he opened bis eyes, but 
 he had the prudence not to make the slightest movement. 
 
 He found, upon opening bis eyes, that the room was 
 not perfectly dark, but that a faint gray light pervaded the 
 whole of it. 
 
 It was so faint, though, that the familiar objects by 
 which be was surrounded appeared confused and in- 
 distiuct. 
 
 Tho light came from the window, and was the first 
 gleam of the coming dawn. 
 
 Suddenly the noise, whatever it was, ceased. 
 
 From the position he occupied, Wild, junior, commanded 
 & view of tbe door of tbe apartment. 
 
 It was from this direction that the disturbing souuds 
 bad come. 
 
 As he gazed with straining eyes, ho saw- the door gently 
 and slowly open. 
 
 ; - xiiat's the guv'nor," he thought, but remained as 
 motiociess as before. 
 
 _.: auother moment his surmise was verified. 
 
 A bead was thrust into the room. 
 
 Tke dim, gray light fell upon it. 
 
 xc was the head of Jonathan Wild, the thief-takor. 
 
 *_.ie object of his visit may easily be coi 
 
 After continuous reflection, his old suspicions returned 
 to .us mind, and the more he pondered over them the 
 stronger they became. 
 
 **e resolved, at auy rate, to pay a stealthy visit to his 
 son's chain' 
 
 .-•> far as the thief-taker and bis interests are concerned, 
 it .« .atner a pity he did not come to this determination 
 eooiier than he did. 
 
 .t-: ae had, he would have found how George was 
 
 .,*-* it »q«j u.iy was just breaking when, with the stealthy 
 
 tread of an assassin, he left his own chamber, and mad6 
 his way towards that occupied by his hopeful sou. 
 
 The door was locked. 
 
 But, as we know, such a trifle as that was nothing to 
 Jonathan Wild. 
 
 lie produced a picklock, and it was the noise he made 
 with this instrument which reached the ears of George 
 and awoke him. 
 
 After the bolt of the lock was shot back, he waited a 
 moment and listened ; but, as all appeared to be still, he 
 opened tbe door, and thrust his head into the room, as we 
 have already described. 
 
 As soon as Wild, junior, saw who it was, ho, of course, 
 guessed what had taken place in bis mind, and guessed 
 his errand too. 
 
 He i - esolved to have something like a revenge for this 
 visit, and, if possible, frighten hi3 father out of paying 
 him another. 
 
 It was George Wild's custom always to sleep with a 
 brace of pistols, ready for instant service, uuJ/>i' the 
 bolster. 
 
 Gently and noiselessly, then, he glided his baud towards 
 them, and got hold of one. 
 
 It was on full cock, so bo would have nothing to do but 
 pull the trigger. 
 
 He was not ready to do this yet, so he put his hand 
 under the clothes, though, when he did so, he grasped the 
 pistol by the stock, and had his finger on the trigger. 
 
 Then he feigned to be asleep. 
 
 By the time he had done this, Jonathan Wild had 
 satisfied himself that his son was asleep, and he accor- 
 dingly made his way in. 
 
 The first thing he did, was to crawl on his hands and 
 knees towards the bedside. 
 
 Then he slowly raised himself, in order to have a look 
 at his son's face. 
 
 This was the moment for which Wild, junior, had 
 waited. 
 
 Suddenly, pretending to awake, he started upright in 
 bed, and, at the same moment, he drew the pistol and 
 fired it. 
 
 He took care not to wound the thief-taker, because he 
 knew, if he had done such a thing, the consequences 
 would have been most serious to himself. 
 
 Still, the bullet whistled past Jonathan's head in any- 
 thing but pleasant proximity. 
 
 He uttered a tremendous shout, which mingled strangely 
 with the report of the pistol. 
 
 Then, for the first time, Wild, junior, pretended to 
 recognise who his visitor was. 
 
 He flung down the pistol, aud cried, in tones of well- 
 affected surprise — 
 
 " Well, I'll be d— d, guv'nor, is that you? Why, who 
 would have thought it ! I haven't hurt you, have I ? " 
 
 "No, curse it!" exclaimed tho enraged thief-taker; 
 "but you might have doue! What the devil did you 
 want to fire your pistol at me in tbat way for ? " 
 
 " Why, guv'nor, I didn't know it was you. In fact, I 
 woke up suddenly ; seeing someone close to my bedside, 
 I fired off the pistol under the impulse of the moment." 
 
 " Oh ! d — n your impulses ! " yelled the thief-taker, 
 who was not only annoyed be}-ond measure at his son's 
 easy manner, but also at tbe failure of his scheme. " It 
 was a wonder you didn't kill me." 
 
 " It was, indeed. But I did not stay to take aim. Bo; 
 stop a minute, guv'nor." 
 
 "What now?" 
 
 " How did you get in ? " 
 
 " How did I get iu ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Through the door, of course." 
 
 fi I don't know how you did it, then, for it's d — d odd 
 to me if I didn't lock the door before I got iuto bed, and 
 that's why I thought it so strange that anyone should 
 be close to tbe bed." 
 
 "You must be mistaken," said the thief-taker, with a 
 grim smile. " The door opened to my baud." 
 
 It was on the tip of George's tongue to say — 
 
 " Yes, but not until you had picked the lock ; " but he 
 wisely refrained from uttering the words. 
 
 " It's a good job," he coutinued, " that matters have 
 turned out to be no worse. I thought someone was going 
 to rob me, or something, but the fact is, tbe thiug waa 
 done so suddenly that I scarcely thought at all."
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 483 
 
 " Then you had better, another time." 
 
 "But what did you want, guv' nor ? I forgot to ask 
 you that before." 
 
 Jonathan had anticipated this question,; and had resolved 
 how to reply to it. 
 
 It would be no good, he thought, to let his son know 
 just what brought him there on the present occasion. 
 
 He did not say one word about his suspicions. 
 
 He merely replied — 
 
 " I want you to get up." 
 
 "But I hare only just come to bed." 
 
 " Pho — pho ! Look up ; it is morning." 
 
 " What do you want me to get up for ? " 
 
 "Why, I feel very uneasy about those papers, and I 
 want you to go down to the river at once and try and find the 
 waterman in whose boat we sat, aud ask him whether he 
 has found them. If so, they are probably still iu his 
 possession, and for a small sum he might easily be induced 
 to give them up." 
 
 George Wild had all his thoughts about him while the 
 thief-iaker thus spoke. 
 
 His reflections ran somewhat iu this fashion. 
 
 " Artful devil, the guv'nor, d — d if he isn't. I see his 
 game. He wants me out of the way. He suspects I have got 
 the papers. If I hesitate about going he will be convinced 
 of it. if I do go, why, he will take advantage of my absence 
 to mase a thorough search of the chamber. He has me, any 
 way. What the devil shall I do ? " 
 
 Truly was he between the horns of a dilemma. 
 
 However, he knew it would not do to hesitate, so he 
 scrambled out of bed with affected alacrity, and hastily 
 attired himself. 
 
 Then he announced his readiness to start. 
 
 The thief-taker accompanied him as far as the front 
 floor, and here they parted. 
 
 Jonathan watched his son round the corner of the Old 
 Bailey, and, as soon as he had disappeared, he turned in 
 md went straight upstairs to his son's chamber. 
 
 He had got rid of him for some time, at any rate, he 
 thought. 
 
 But he reckoned without his host. 
 
 Wild, junior, knew that his father was watching him, 
 but, the moment he turned the corner of the Old Bailey 
 and he knew he was out of his sight, he paused. 
 
 " I know what the guv'nor's up to," he said, "just as 
 well as if I could seo him at this moment. Ha ! stop ! 
 I have a thought ! I will go back and pretend I want 
 something I left behind me. Then I shall just catch 
 him." 
 
 No sooner had he come to this decision, than he r>ro- 
 ceeded to act upon it. .j 
 
 Back again he went like a shot. 
 
 He knocked softly at the front door, and it was imme- 
 diately opened by Tonks. 
 
 George said not a word, but, as light as foot could fall, 
 •ped upstairs to his own room. 
 
 The door was open. 
 
 He approached with the utmost stealthiness. 
 
 He reached the door unperceived, and peeped into the 
 room . 
 
 ' There, as he fully expected, with his hands behind him 
 and his eyes roamiDg inquisitively about the room, stood 
 the thief-taker. 
 
 George watched a moment, and theu saw him go to the 
 bed, and, one by one, pull the things off it and shake 
 them. 
 
 While he was thus engaged, Wild, junior, pounced into 
 the room. 
 
 " Hullo ! guv'nor ! " he yelled, in tones that fairly made 
 tho thief-taker start again, " what the devil are you 
 about ? Are you going to make my bed for me ? " 
 
 Jonathan turned round. 
 
 An angry look was on his face. 
 
 " What have you come back for ?" 
 
 " What have I come back for ? Why, for something, I 
 rather think. Who would have thought of seeing you 
 here ?" 
 
 " What have you come back for?" repeated the thief- 
 taker, impatiently. 
 
 " Why, the fact is, guv'nor, as soon as I got outside I 
 found I had got no arms about me ; and, as I did not 
 fancy going out totally unprovided with weapons, I 
 thought I would just pop in again and fetch the pistol I 
 fired otf a little while ago." 
 
 "D — n you pistol," exclaimed the thief-taker, enraged 
 to think his pretext for getting his son out of the house 
 was detected by him. " D — n your pistol." 
 
 "Just as you like, guv'nor," rejoiued Wild, junior, with 
 his customary coolness. " But what on earth are you 
 about ? Curse me if I can make you out." 
 
 " Can't you indeed, George ? " said the thief-taker, 
 looking at his son with a leer. " Such a clever youth as 
 you ought to be able to do that. Come, now, what's the 
 good of disguise ? You know what I came here for just 
 as well as myself, aud that is the reason you came back 
 and popped into the room so suddenly." 
 
 " Then you would make me believe that you can make 
 me out ? " 
 
 " Just as you like. I leave you to draw your own con- 
 clusions. I have missed the papers, and I can't help 
 thinking you have taken them." 
 
 " Then, if that is the case, guv'nor, wo had better dis- 
 solve partnership. I can never get ou when I know I am 
 mistrusted and suspected. What a d — d fool you must be ! 
 Just as if the papers would be any good to me." 
 
 " Come, George, there's no harm done. I suspeiied 
 you. You are such a clever fellow, you know ; and I 
 thought it just possible you had taken the papers. I 
 resolved to satisfy myself, and sent you out. You pene- 
 trated my design, and returned unexpectedly, and caught 
 me in the act of searching. Where's the harm H " 
 
 ° Why it just amounts to this. If you can't trust me, 
 we had better part." 
 
 " Stuff, we are useful to each other. Now, George, 
 just listen to me." 
 
 " I am listening." 
 
 " If you really did take those papers, confess it, and I 
 will forgive the offence. Restore them to me, and I will 
 think no more of the matter. To you those papers cannot 
 be half so valuable as they are to me. You have no idea 
 how much depends upon my having them in my posses- 
 sion." 
 
 George Wild listened to this proposal iu silence. 
 
 But, when his father had done speaking, his resolve 
 remained unaltered. 
 
 The very anxiety which his father manifested to refrain 
 possession of the papers convinced him still more of their 
 importance. 
 
 " Now, guv'nor," he said, with well-assumed frankness, 
 " do let this bit of foolery drop. I tell you I have not got 
 the papers. What good are they to me ? The idea is so 
 ridiculous, that it is a mystery to me how you entertain it. 
 Let us hear no more of it, and I will promise you to do 
 my best to assist you to recover the papers. Is it a bar- 
 gain ? " 
 
 " It is," said the thief-taker. 
 
 "Very good, then," rejoined his sou; "see that you 
 keep to it. Don't mention it again. Now, do you want 
 me to go down to the boat, or was it all fudge ? " 
 
 " If you will go," said the thief-taker, " I should be 
 glad. It is just possible I dropped them in the boat." 
 
 " It's a d — d sight more possible than that I took them, 
 I can tell you that. And now, guv'nor, while I am gone, 
 do just leave my room alone. If you turn it inside out, 
 you will meet with no reward for your trouble." 
 
 " I will take you at your word," said the thi6f-taker, 
 with a grin. 
 
 "All right," said George. " I am really off this time." 
 
 He left the room as he spoke, and made his way to the 
 front door. 
 
 Iu another moment he was on his way to the water- 
 side. 
 
 He knew his journey would be a bootless one, but 
 he did not care for that. 
 
 He knew his father would most likely set some one 
 on his track ; and, if he did not go to the appointed 
 spot, his suspicions would return with full force. 
 
 It was a strange partnership which existed between 
 these two villains. 
 
 Mutually distrustful of each other, they knew just 
 what reliance to place upon each other's words ; and 
 Wild, junior, did not doubt, although he had been assured 
 to the contrary, that his father was at that moment 
 engaged in making a thorough search of the room. 
 
 But Wild, junior, had faith in the security of his 
 hiding-place, and suffered very little, if any, apprehen- 
 sion as to the result of the search.
 
 484 
 
 BLTJESKEN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCVI. 
 
 RFLATES THE EXTRAORDINARY MANNER IN WHICH JACK* 
 SHEPPARD WAS MADE A PRISONER IN THE CELLS 
 BENEATH WILD'S HOUSE. 
 
 The hiding-place which Jack Sheppard sought when he 
 heard someone descending the stone steps that led to the 
 corridor from which the dungeons beneath the thief- 
 taker's house opened, was about as strange a one as could 
 well be imagined. * 
 
 With that boldness of invention which was the charac- 
 teristic of Jack Sheppard throughout the whole of his 
 life, he hit upon the daring idea of concealing himself in 
 one of the cells, until the danger of discovery with which 
 he was menaced should be past. 
 
 Surely anyone would think that one of the last places 
 in the world in which Jack would be likely to take refuge, 
 would be one of Wild's cells. 
 
 But so it was. 
 
 Strange things happen; and, as we have seen, he 
 voluntarily assumed a prisoner's position. 
 
 With the swiftness and silence of a spectre, he glided 
 through the door, which, fortunately for him, gave way to 
 the pressure he applied to it. 
 
 His first impulse upon entering the dungeon was to 
 close the door after him. 
 
 To secure it in any way was impossible. 
 
 He pushed it to. 
 
 Then, fearful of running the risk of remaining too near 
 the door, he resolved to make his way to one of the 
 distant corners. 
 
 The cell was profoundly dark. 
 
 Still he hastened forward, for he was familiar with the 
 plan upon which they had been constructed. 
 
 He relied too much upon his knowledge. 
 
 Suddenly his foot came in contact with some obstacle 
 that lay upon the floor. 
 
 So unexpected was this, that he was unable to recover 
 himself, and fell heavily upon the ground. 
 
 In falling, he struck his forehead against one of the 
 atone walls which formed the boundary of the cell. 
 
 The violence of the blow was so great as to at once 
 deprive him of his senses. 
 
 There was a convulsive movement of his limbs, and he 
 lay, utterly bereft of sense or motion, upon the damp 
 flooring. 
 
 What happened after this he knew not. 
 
 The person he had heard descending the steps, which 
 led from the hall in Wild's house to the cells beneath, was 
 "1 no other than that confidential janizary, Quilt Arnold. 
 
 In the absence of the thief-taker, it was part of hrs 
 duty to see that the prisoners were all safe and their 
 necessities attended to, and this it was that caused his 
 visit on the present occasion. 
 
 When about halfway down the steps, he fancied some 
 strange sound reached his ears, and he paused to listen. 
 
 But all was still. 
 
 He imagined, therefore, his hearing had deceived him, 
 or else that he had mistaken some slight sound from 
 above. 
 
 Quilt carried a torch, for of late the air in the corridor 
 had been so impure as to render a lantern almost 
 useless. 
 
 As its red glare fell upon his countenance it revealed a 
 puzzled look upon it. 
 
 He was muttering as he came along. 
 
 Something had occurred to dissatisfy him. 
 
 He paused before the door of the cell which was nearest 
 to the foot of the flight of steps. 
 
 In his hand he hold a rather large-sized key, which was 
 made so as to open all the locks upon the cell -doors. 
 
 Thrusting it into the keyhole, he turned it round, and 
 removed the iron bar. 
 
 He opened the door a few inches only. 
 
 Thrusting his head, and the hand which held the torch, 
 into the cell, he gazed upon its miserable occupant. 
 
 Satisfied that all was right, he closed the door again. 
 
 This he repeated all along the corridor, doing no more 
 than ascertaining by this means that the prisoners were 
 all secure. 
 
 At length he came to the cell in which Jack lay in so 
 helpleae a condition. 
 
 Th» door was ajar, and the iron bar lying upon the 
 ground. 
 
 " Hullo ! " he ejaculated, as he made this discovery. 
 " There's one of these bars down again. Curse me if 
 you can depend upon anybody. Well, it's a good job I 
 took it into my head to make my rounds before old 
 Johnny came home. A fine row there would have 
 been if he had happened to see this, after giving 
 such strict orders that the bars were to be put up 
 whether the cells were occupied or not. I'll see if I can't 
 kick up a row about it when I go upstairs. Curse their 
 laziness ! But they knew very well I should be the 
 sufferer, not them." 
 
 Having thus given vent to his indignation at the dis- 
 covery he had made, Quilt Arnold came a little closer. 
 
 " I can't understand it," he continued. " This here's 
 one of the empty cells, to my knowledge, and has never 
 been occupied since — but no matter. I wonder what on 
 earth they wanted to take that bar down for. However, 
 before I put it up again, I think my best plan will be to 
 take a look inside." 
 
 It was almost fortunate for Jack that he was insensible 
 when this took place. 
 
 He would have considered discovery inevitable, and, 
 under that idea, might, perhaps, have got himself into 
 fresh difficulty. 
 
 As it was, he lay like a log on the floor, in one of tir.e 
 furthermost corners, quite unconscious of this fresh 
 danger. 
 
 The torch which Quilt carried had burned away a good 
 deal, and now gave forth but a dim light ; so he knocked 
 it up against the wall to improve its lustre. 
 
 This done, he pushed the door open a little further, 
 and looked in, much in the same manner as he had looked 
 into the others. 
 
 He waved the torch about in the endeavour to dissipate 
 the darkness, which here appeared to be profound. 
 
 Then, satisfied by this casual glance that all presented 
 its usual appearance, he withdrew again. 
 
 The torch had failed to show him the dark form of Jack 
 lying, a huddled-up mass, in one of the remote corners. 
 
 He closed the door with a loud clang, which roused a 
 thousand echoes in that dismal, subterranean place. 
 
 But it failed to awaken Jack. 
 
 His swoon was too deep to be removed by any such 
 means. 
 
 Quilt Arnold next raised the iron bar, and thrust it 
 through the staples provided for its reception. 
 
 Jack was a prisoner. 
 
 As he put up the bar, Quilt muttered— 
 
 " I'll kick up a row about this, curse me if I don't ! 
 But I'll guard against this cell being left open another 
 time ; and I don't suppose it will ever want to be used, 
 because" 
 
 Quilt broke off abruptly, and did not finish what he was 
 about to say. 
 
 Plunging his hand into his pocket he drew forth the 
 key which he had used to lock the other doors. 
 
 He thrust it into the keyhole. 
 
 He turned it round. 
 
 A sharp click followed, as the bolt shot into the matrix 
 provided for it. 
 
 " That will do it, I rather think," said Quilt Arnold, 
 with a chuckle, as he drew out the key, and restored it to 
 his pocket. " I shan't be bothered with that door being 
 left open another time, I know." 
 
 Thus satisfied, both with himself and what he had 
 done, Quilt stalked away, and continued his examination 
 of the prisoners until his task was finished, and then he 
 returned to the upper air. 
 
 In the meantime, Jack still lay in the same insensible 
 and lifeless state in the corner of the cell. 
 
 Little did Quilt think of the serviee he had uncon- 
 sciously done for the thief-taker, in making prisoner he 
 who had been a source of so much trouble to him. 
 
 Had he known that he bad made Jack Sheppard a 
 prisoner, how elated he would have been. 
 
 But he was denied that piece of knowledge, though, if 
 he had performed his duty in a proper manner, and taken 
 the trouble to enter the cell, instead of just putting his head 
 into it in the manner he had done, he would have been in 
 possession of it. 
 
 Fate, however, had decreed differently. 
 
 Quilt Arnold remained ignorant. 
 
 As for Jack, how long he remained in that state o? 
 insensibility he never knew, but he fancied it must hart
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 455 
 
 been a long time, for when he at length did recover, he 
 felt cold, hungry, and wretched. 
 
 Consciousness was restored to him by very slow 
 degrees. 
 
 His first sensation was a most intolerable headache, 
 which proceeded from the terrible blow he had received 
 fey coming into contact with the wall. 
 
 This at first so distracted him that he was unable to 
 think of anything. 
 
 Presently, however, the violence of the pain al^ted, 
 and he opened his eyes. 
 
 Recollection had not yet returned to him, and he was 
 astonished to find himself surrounded by total darkness. 
 
 For a moment an awful idea took possession of his 
 mind, and that was that he was blind ! 
 
 <But he endeavoured to banish this thought, and to 
 recollect what were the events which had last happened 
 to him. 
 
 For a long while he was unable to do this. 
 
 His intellects were in a sad state of confusion, and any- 
 thing like clear thought, while his head ached in the fright- 
 ful manner it now did, seemed quite out of the question. 
 
 By slow degrees, however, as he lay perfectly still 
 upon the ground, all his late proceedings dawned upon 
 his mind. 
 
 But he was compelled to begin at a distant point, and 
 trace all his actions forward from it. 
 
 He recollected at last how he had made his way to the 
 cells beneath Wild's house ; how he had heard someone 
 approaching, and how he had hit upon the desperate ex- 
 pedient of concealing himself in one of the empty cells. 
 
 He remembered lifting down the bar, and gliding 
 tu rough the door. 
 
 He remembered closing it after him, and hastening 
 across the dungeon ; but at this point recollection ceased. 
 
 After that circumstance, all was a blank. 
 
 In vain he tortured his mind to recollect something 
 further. 
 
 Ho was compelled, in the end, to give it up in despair. 
 
 He passed his hand over his forehead, as though he 
 would clear his brain of the mists whieh hung before it. 
 
 In doing so, his hands came in contact with the lump 
 which the fall against the stone wall had raised. 
 
 It was painful to a degree. 
 
 But this furnished the missing link which connected the 
 chain of thought. 
 
 He recollected when he hastened across the cell that he 
 had stumbled over soma object which lay upon the floor. 
 
 In falling he must have struck his head against some 
 hard substance, and that had caused the lump unon his 
 forehead, and a fit of insensibility. 
 
 Having recovered his recollection so far, he now tried to 
 ascertain how long he had been unconscious. 
 
 In this, however, he was completely baffled. 
 
 It might have been hours — it might have been days. 
 
 He had no means of telling, and probably never would 
 have. 
 
 He was hungry, cold, and thirsty. 
 
 From these symptoms, he fancied his swoon must have 
 lasted for a long time. 
 
 As yet, the reader will perceive, the suspicion that he 
 had been made a prisoner never crossed his mind — nor, 
 indeed, was it likely to do so. 
 
 He sat still for some time, endeavouring to recowr his 
 usual energy and spirit. 
 
 Fortunately, he had in his pockets a supply both of food 
 and drink, for he knew not what emergency might arise. 
 
 He now had good reason to congratulate himself upon 
 his forethought. 
 
 After his meal he felt much better. 
 
 The pain in his head subsided, and he was about to rise 
 to his feet, with the intention of leaving the cell, which ho 
 fancied he should be easily enough able to do, when his 
 whole attention was suddenly attracted by the sounds of 
 many footsteps in the corridor without. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCVII. 
 
 JACK 3HEPPARD HEARS SOME STEANGE SOUNDS WHILE 
 AN INMATE OF WILD'S CELL, AND HAS HIS ESCAPE 
 INTERRUPTED. 
 
 Full of the most breathless eagerness and impatience to 
 know what these sounds signified, Jack Sheppard paused 
 in his iriiention of seeking the cell-door. 
 
 Crouching down upon the floor, he concentrated all his 
 faculties into the one of listening. 
 
 He was anxious that no sound — no matter how unim- 
 portant it might seem — should escape him. 
 
 The footsteps came nearer. 
 
 Jack could tell not only that several persons were 
 approaching, but also that they were coming from the 
 direction of the staircase. 
 
 Nearer they came, until he fancied they must be almost 
 opposite his cell-door. 
 
 Could it be possible that that was their destination ? 
 
 As he asked himself this question, the idea first occurred 
 to him that he might have been discovered while in hi3 
 unconscious state and made a prisoner, and that those 
 who were now approaching intended to make him more 
 secure than he then was. 
 
 As this awful supposition crossed his mind, the blood 
 in his veins seemed to turn to ice, and his heart to cease 
 to beat. 
 
 As we know, Jack was both wrong and right. 
 
 He was wrong in thinking he had been discovered, but 
 right in fancying himself a prisoner. 
 
 In spite of his terrible thoughts, he had the presence of 
 mind to remain perfectly still, and not to make any move- 
 ment to betray himself. 
 
 It was fortunate for him that he did so. 
 
 The trampling footsteps paused. 
 
 They were either just opposite the door of his cell, or 
 else a yard or two past it. 
 
 Which of the two it was he could not tell. 
 
 Suddenly he heard a voice. 
 
 He recognised it. 
 
 Its tones thrilled through him. 
 
 It was the voice of Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker. 
 
 Jack could not distinguish the words he uttered, though 
 he strove his utmost to do so. 
 
 A growling sound alone reached his ears. 
 
 Then he heard the rattle of a key, thrust hastily and 
 impatiently into a lock. 
 
 Then, for the first time, Jack became aware that they 
 had paused, not before the door of the cell in which he 
 then was, but before the door of the one adjoining it. 
 
 He was surprised to hear the rattling of the key and 
 the click of the bolt of the lock with 60 much distinctness 
 as he had, when he could not distinguish the words 
 uttered by the thief-taker, but he learned the reason 
 almost immediately. 
 
 He heard the door of the adjoining cell grate open 
 upon its hinges. 
 
 Then, to his surprise, all the sounds which he had before 
 heard now reached his ears with much greater plainness. 
 
 If he had been in doubt about this, and thought his 
 fancy was playing him a trick, he would have been con- 
 vinced that he was not mistaken, for he could now hear 
 what was said. 
 
 heard Wild speak. 
 
 The tones of his voice grated upon bis ear. 
 
 "Now, then!" he said, "bring him in, can't you? 
 Are you going to be all day ? " 
 
 " Coming, Mr. Wild ! " replied a chorus of respectful 
 voices. 
 
 The trampling of feet followed, and it seemed to Jack 
 that the prisoner to whom the thief-taker evidently 
 alluded was bodily carried into the cell by the janizaries. 
 
 He had no time, however, for reflection, for he heard 
 Wild say, in an impatient manner — 
 
 " Where'3 Godfrey ? " 
 
 " Here I am," said a voice, in reply. 
 
 " Have you got the irons ready ? 
 
 " All ready, Mr. Wild." 
 
 The clanking of fetters followed these words, as though 
 Godfrey wished to prove the truth of his assertion. 
 
 " Come on, then," said Jonathan. " Put them on, and 
 be quick about it j but be sure you put them on securely." 
 
 " Depend upon me, Mr. Wild." 
 
 Jack was at no loss to comprehend what was taking 
 place — indeed, he understood it almost as well as if he 
 had been able to see as well as hear. 
 
 Some poor, helpless, wounded wretch had been brought 
 into the cell, a prisoner, and Jonathan was about to be 
 barbarous enough to place the fetters upon him. 
 
 Godfrey was the name of the man who, when required, 
 performed the functions of smith. 
 
 No more was said for the space of some moments.
 
 4SG 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 The silence was only broken by the clink of the smith's 
 hammer upon the little portable anvil, as he riveted the 
 fetters. 
 
 He ceased, and then Wild spoke again. 
 
 " Have you done ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild ; and I'll warrant them secure." 
 
 " That will do, then. Be off ! " 
 
 The trampling of feet, as the janizaries left the cell, 
 immediately followed this command. 
 
 The heavy tread of the thief-taker followed them. 
 Jack could distinguish it from all the rest. 
 
 He heard the door closed with a violence that raised a 
 thousand reverberating echoes. 
 
 Tho key was turned in the lock. 
 
 The iron bar was placed in tho staples. 
 
 Then the whole of the party retired, and silence oace 
 more prevailed in that subterraneous region. 
 
 For some time after their departure, Jack remained 
 perfectly still. 
 
 But, though his body was still, his thoughts were 
 active. 
 
 He listened for a long time, in order to make sure that 
 Wild and his janizaries had really left the cells. 
 
 All remained silent. 
 
 He listened for some sound from the tenant of the next 
 dungeon, but none came. 
 
 At length, rising to his feet, Jack went towards the 
 door. 
 
 He was ill prepared for what awaited him there. 
 
 His thoughts were wholly occupied with elaborating 
 the details of his daring plan. 
 
 Convinced that Blueskin was in one of the cells, he 
 determined to spare no trouble in releasing him from his 
 perilous position. 
 
 His retreat, he believed, he had already secured ; and 
 his enterprise assumed, at least, the appearance of suc- 
 cess. 
 
 But that appearance was deceptive. 
 
 With his thoughts occupied in this manner, Jack groped 
 his way towards the door. 
 
 Ho passed his hands over the stonework until he per- 
 ceived it, by the difference in the feel of iron and stone — 
 for, as we have elsewhere stated, the doors of Wild's 
 cells were all lined with sheet-iron. 
 
 Hastily Jack ran his fingers over the crevice of the 
 door, and tried to find a place where ho could insert his 
 fingers and pull it open. 
 
 The door was close 6hut, and he made the attempt in 
 vaiu. 
 
 Still, he could not realize what had befallen him. 
 
 Ho tried the other side of the door, but with the 
 same result. 
 
 Ho felt over tho whole of its surface, up to as high as 
 he could reach. 
 
 Then the horrible conviction was forced upon him that 
 the door had been secured from without, and that he was 
 a prisoner. 
 
 His brain whirled when he made this discovery. 
 
 What had happened during his long swoon ? 
 
 A thousand terrible questions suggested themselves to 
 his mind, and, entirely overcome, he sank down upon the 
 ground. 
 
 He extended himself at full length upon the earthern 
 flooring, and clasped his aching head with his hands. 
 
 Could it be possible that he, who had made his way to 
 that dismal place with the intention of setting his friend 
 at liberty, should himself become a prisoner ? 
 
 More tightly still, he pressed his hands upon his brow, 
 and tried to think more calmly, to bring back more cor- 
 rectly to his mind the occurrences of the past, and to 
 reason more logically upon his present position. 
 
 He found this task a difficult one indeed. 
 
 He rose again to his feet, and made another examina- 
 tion of the door, the result of which was a conviction 
 that he was indeed a prisoner. 
 
 The door was as firm and immovable as a rock, and 
 resisted all the frantic attempts he made to shake it. 
 Again he tried to think. 
 
 The door had been fastened during his swoon. 
 Of that he could, at any rate, feel certain. 
 The question which now presented itself to his mind 
 — and a terrible and important one it was — was whether 
 he had been discovered by ihe person who had closed the 
 door. 
 
 It appeared most likely. 
 
 If so, how was it ho had not been re-visited by his old 
 foe, the thief-taker ? 
 
 How was it that he had passed the door of his cell 
 without looking in, as he felt certain that he must have 
 done? 
 
 Vainly did Jack strive to find plausible replies to these 
 questions. 
 
 They perplexed and troubled him, and that was all. 
 
 He started. 
 
 A slight sound had struck upon his ear and disturbed 
 his meditations, which, deep as they were, did not mako 
 him insensible of external impressions. 
 
 The sound came again. 
 
 This time he recognised its character. 
 
 It was a hollow groan. 
 
 His first sensations were those of alarm at hearing such 
 a sound in such a place. 
 
 But this feeling soon subsided. 
 
 He recollected the inmate of the adjoining dungeon, 
 whom he pictured grievously hurt and loaded with heavy 
 fetters. 
 
 It was from him, doubtless, that the groan proceeded. 
 
 He listened for a repetition of it, in order to be sure 
 that he was not mistaken. 
 
 He had not long to wait. 
 
 Another groan, such as could alone be wrung from 
 man's lips by the most awful suffering, struck upon his 
 ear. 
 
 All doubts were now over. 
 
 Jack was certain that it came from the prisoner he had 
 heard carried into the next cell. 
 
 In a contemplation of this man's probable sufferings, 
 he lost sight, for a few moments, of his own. 
 
 He wondered who he was, and whether he could 
 administer any help or consolation to him. 
 
 He resolved to make an attempt as soon as ever he was 
 in a position to do so. 
 
 At present, however, his own situation demanded the 
 whole of his attention. 
 
 How was he to escape from tho cell P 
 
 This was an accident which he had not foreseen. 
 
 Indeed, he could hardly be expected to take so strange 
 an occurrence into his calculations. 
 
 But the prospect of working his way out of that place 
 was not so difficult a one to Jack as it would be to moit 
 persons. 
 
 As the reader is well aware, he was not without expe- 
 rience in matters of this sort. 
 
 He had succeeded in making his way out of a stronger 
 cell than the one in which ho now was, and at a time, too, 
 when he was not in hah so good a position to achieve his 
 escape. 
 
 It cannot, therefore, be said that he looked upon the 
 task before him with any great amouut of diffidence. 
 
 He relied upon his own powers. 
 
 Besolved to set to work without further delay, he com- 
 menced searching in his pockets for anything that pro* 
 mised to be of service to him. 
 
 He found himself but ill-provided, and yet he had 
 several useful articles secreted about him. 
 
 Among these was a large-bladed clasp-knife, and a 
 small, but exquisitely-made file. 
 
 In the hands of such a person as Jack Sheppaid, 
 wonders could be done with such tools even as these. 
 
 He determined to begin with the clasp-knife. 
 
 Opening it, he made his way towards the door. 
 
 His intention was to pick away the mortar around the 
 lock, and so open the door by that means. 
 
 Whether he would have succeeded or not is hard to 
 say. 
 
 Scarcely had he taken the knife, and commenced opera- 
 tions by chipping out a small piece of mortar, than he 
 heard a sound which warned him to desist without be 
 wished to run the risk of immediate discovery. 
 
 He ceased, of course. 
 
 The sound was one familiar enough to Jack's ears. 
 
 It was a footstep. 
 
 This time, however, it was that of one person only. 
 
 Jack could tell that in a moment. 
 
 Someone was about to pay another visit to the cell*. 
 
 ' ' -
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMAJiCB. 
 
 437 
 
 CHAPTER CCCVIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD MAKES AN UNEXPECTED DISCOVERY, 
 AMD IS THE UNSUSPECTED AUDITOR OF AN IMPORTANT 
 CONFERENCE. 
 
 Jack could not refrain from uttering a curse at this 
 unlooked-for interruption to bis proceedings. 
 
 It was useless, though, and he knew it. 
 
 There was nothing left for him to do but to wait with 
 patience and bide his time. 
 
 On came the footstep, and, as it came nearer, causing 
 bim in consequence to hear it with greater plainness, 
 Jack recognised it. 
 
 Too often had he heard that heavy and peculiar iiead 
 to be mistaken upon the point. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild who was approaching. 
 
 Jack was as sure of it as if he could see him at that 
 moment. 
 
 Breathlessly, then, he listened, for he could not divest 
 himself of the idea that this second visit of Jonathan 
 Wild's was in some way connected with him. 
 
 Was he about to visit him ? 
 
 Jack thought so, and prepared himself for the meeting, 
 for he could scarcely bring himself to believe that he had 
 been made prisoner in the manner ho had been without 
 the person who secured the door knowing who he was. 
 
 But, as we happen to know, such was the case ; and, 
 after nerving himself for the encounter, which he made 
 sure must take place, he discovered that his coll was not 
 Jonathan's destination. 
 
 Still, the thief-taker's lumbering step stopped some- 
 where close at hand. 
 
 It was at the door of the adjoining cell. 
 
 Jack heard the fastenings undone, and could tell that 
 Jonathan had entered the cell. 
 
 What was his errand there ? 
 
 This it was important he should find out, for Jack oould 
 not help thinking that all Wild's proceedings were in 
 some way or other connected with himself. 
 
 He had no fear of not being able to hear what passed, 
 because on the previous occasion every word had reached 
 his ears with almost as much distinctness as they wou.'d 
 if they were spoken in his own cell. 
 
 He listened eagerly. 
 
 He heard Wild address the prisoner in tones of mocking 
 hilarity, which grated terribly upon his nerves. 
 
 Why should he speak to his prisoner thus ? 
 
 Jack listened for some reply to Wild's speech. 
 
 None came. 
 
 Jonathan continued in the same sneering tone. 
 
 Then the prisoner spoke. 
 
 But the first word he uttered in reply caused Jack to 
 start violently. 
 
 It was only with the greatest difficulty that he con- 
 trolled himself from giving vent to a loud shout, so 
 intense was his surprise. 
 
 Fortunately he was sufficiently master of his emotions 
 to be able to repress his surprise, or, at all events, to keep 
 it from reaching the ears of his enemy. 
 
 To this surprise disbelief sucoaeded. 
 
 He fancied he must surely be mistaken. 
 
 If so, he should quickly know. 
 
 The prisoner, in all probability, would speak again. 
 
 He would be prepared to pay the utmost attention. 
 
 His patience was put to a short test. 
 
 After some more taunting remarks, the prisoner spoke. 
 
 Prepared as he was, he still started. 
 
 He knew that voice. 
 
 Knew it as well as he did his own — perhaps even 
 better. 
 
 It was Blucskin he heard speak. 
 
 He was quite sure of it. 
 
 He was the unfortunate being whose sufferings be had 
 commiserated without knowing who he was. 
 
 It was Blueskin who had beeu carried into the next 
 cell. 
 
 It was Blueskin who had been ironed so heavily. 
 
 It was Blueskin who had given utterance to those 
 dreadful groans. 
 
 Oh ! it was terrible. 
 
 This discovery was almost more than he could bear. 
 
 Ho sprang to his feet. 
 
 He found himself almost unable to credit the evidence 
 of his senses. 
 
 Could it be possible that Blueskin, whose release he 
 was so anxious to accomplish, should have been brought 
 to the very next cell to the one of which he was the 
 inmate under such peculiar circumstances ? 
 
 His brain spun round. 
 
 He feared he was going mad. 
 
 He clasped his hands over his head. 
 
 But the conversation between the thief-taker and his 
 prisoner in the next cell continued, and swept away all 
 doubts. 
 
 He was not mad. 
 
 He did not dream. 
 
 What he heard going on was real. 
 
 He once more listened. 
 
 He heard his own name, coupled with that of Edgworth 
 Bess, pronounced by the thief-taker. 
 
 He listened with, if possible, redoubled interest and 
 eagerness. 
 
 He heard the thief-taker make the tempting offer 
 which we have in a preceding Ghapter recorded ; he heard, 
 too, how Blueskin indignantly and positively refused it. 
 
 Oh ! that refusal, how it went to his heart ! 
 
 Never had he felt the least doubt about Blueskin's 
 fidelity, but now he had the most convincing proof of it. 
 
 That proof was unnecessary, but still he could not help 
 feeling pleased. 
 
 He rejoiced in the spirited manner in which he breathed 
 his scorn and defiance at the infamous offer made to him, 
 and his heart glowed to think that the poor, persecuted 
 heiress had so true and tried a friend. 
 
 No words could possibly express the anxiety with 
 which he waited for the remainder of this conversation. 
 
 Instinctively he turned his face in the direction from 
 which the sound appeared to come. 
 
 A faint glow of light met his vision. 
 
 Looking closer, he saw from whence it proceeded, and 
 then the mystery of his hearing so plainly all that was 
 said in the contiguous dungeon was revealed. 
 
 He wondered he had not thought of it before, for now 
 he recollected that the cells communicated with each 
 other near the top. 
 
 There was a small aperture in the wall near the juncture 
 with the roof. 
 
 This had been contrived for the purposes of ventilation, 
 but had been found to be horribly insufficient. 
 
 There came back to Jack's mind an adventure which he 
 once before had in one of the cells. 
 
 It was through this aperture that the faint glow of 
 light came. 
 
 This proceeded from the torch which we have related 
 Jonathan took with him when he paid his visit to 
 Blueskin, and which he had stuck in a staple in tho 
 wall. 
 
 As Wild proceeded in hi3 conversation with Blueskin, 
 Jack gathered the gratifying intelligence that he must 
 be ignorant of the fact of his being a prisoner in the 
 adjoining cell. 
 
 His incarceration was, then, the effect of an accident. 
 
 He breathed more freely. 
 
 Hope regained its ascendancy in his breast. 
 
 He begun to see a way out of all his difficulties and 
 dangers. 
 
 With varying emotions, he listened to the remaining 
 portion of the conversation which took place between 
 Blueskin and the thief-taker. 
 
 He had no fear that Jonathan would he able to cajola 
 his friend by any of his specious arguments. 
 
 He trusted not only to his fidelity, but to his beiug 
 too well acquainted with the villain's character to suffer 
 himself to be taken in by anything he said, or to believe 
 that he was sincere. 
 
 Impatiently, then, we say, he waited for the conference 
 to terminate, in order that be might have the pleasure of 
 infusing fresh hope and joy into Blueskin's heart by 
 communicating to him the fact that he was closo at hand 
 and ready to strain every nerve to effect his release. 
 
 But Jonathan seemed in no hurry. 
 
 As the reader is aware, the interview between them 
 was of considerable length. 
 
 In it Jonathan exhausted every argument, and displayed 
 every inducement which his fertile invention could sug- 
 gest. 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 Blueskin's fidelity was not to be shaken.
 
 488 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 All bis trouble brought bim no nearer to the point he 
 wished to gain than he was on the preceding occasion when 
 he made his offers. 
 Blueskin remained firm. 
 
 From promises Wild proceeded to threats, but these he 
 found equally unavailing with the former. 
 
 Our old friend preserved his firmness, and suffered no- 
 thing to have the least effeot upon him. 
 
 Enraged at the want of success which had attended his 
 strenuous efforts, Jouathau Wild rose to bis feet, and, to 
 the infinite satisfaction of Jack, quitted bis comrade s 
 cell. 
 
 In his own mind, however, the thief-taker bad only 
 abandoned the seige for tbe present. _ _ 
 
 He resolved te renew the attack when bis victim was 
 weakened and paralyzed with hunger. _; ^ 
 
 He doubted not that he should then succeed better. 
 It was this which caused him to break off the interview 
 so abruptly. 
 
 He slammed tbe door violently behind him, and secured 
 it with a vengeance. 
 
 As he stood in the long, vaulted passage, a thousand 
 angry feelings warred around the heart of the thief- 
 taker. 
 
 His brow contracted. 
 His eyes gleamed with a baleful lustre. 
 The whole expression of his countenance was terrible to 
 behold. 
 
 Unlucky would be tbe individual who came before him 
 in his present state of mind. 
 
 He bad set his mind upon wiuning Blueskin over to bis 
 interests, and made sure of doing bo upon the present 
 occasion. 
 
 But he failed— and failed signally. 
 He was exasperated at bis defeat, and malignant 
 threats and horrible imprecations fell mutteriugly from his 
 lips. 
 
 Jack, who listened to bis every movement with an atten- 
 tion which could not be realized by anyone who did not 
 happen to be in his position, heard him close and fasten 
 the door, and go a few steps along the passage in the 
 direction of the flight of stairs leading into the hall. 
 Then he heard him pause. 
 
 Wondering what this portended, Jack, with a beating 
 heart, remained quite still, with bis seuse of hearing 
 stretched to the utmost. _ i> 
 
 The thief-taker remained for a moment quite still. 
 Jack pictured him in an attitude of deep thought, and 
 bis imagination did not deceive him. 
 
 Then he heard him return, and cross to the opposite 
 side of the corridor. 
 
 " He has some other visit to pay," thought Jack. ' I 
 wonder who it is to ? I am afraid there is no hope of 
 my hearing what takes place, as I did a little while ago." 
 A clanging sound now made itself beard. 
 It was produced by the iron bar with which the cell- 
 door was secured being cast upon the ground. 
 
 Theu be heard a door unlocked, and there could no 
 longer be a doubt about tbe thief-taker'a intentions. 
 He had another visit to pay. 
 
 Jack could scarcely restrain an exclamation of im- 
 patience. 
 
 He longed to communicate with Blueskin, to make 
 bim aware of his proximity, and to infuse hope into bis 
 breast. 
 
 But the manifest impolicy of attempting to do this, 
 while Jonathan Wild was so close at hand, sufficed to 
 keep him silent. 
 
 The murmur of voices came upon his ear, but it was 
 an undistinguishable hum. 
 For a long time it continued. 
 
 By degrees, however, he beard the voice of the thief- 
 taker increase in loudness. 
 Something was exciting bim. 
 
 *ack put his ear close against tbe door of his cell, and 
 listened. 
 
 A succession of horrible shrieks saluted bis ear. 
 They seemed like the death-screams of some person 
 who suffered more than iiortal agony. 
 
 They froze the blood in Jack's veins, and be made a 
 frantic effort to burst open the door. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCIX. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD HAS HIS LAST INTERVIEW WITH LOUfr 
 DONMULL. 
 
 It took but a moment, however, to convince him, not 
 only of the futility, but tbe danger, of the attempt he was 
 makiug. 
 He became suddenly silent. 
 
 As yet, he believed his presence in that cell was unsus- 
 pected, and it was important in the extreme that it should 
 remain so. 
 
 If he could have burst open the cell-door, be would 
 have done himself more injury than he could have done 
 anyone else good. 
 
 His thoughts, too, reverted to Blueskin, who languished 
 in the next cell, and who, without his timely assistance, 
 would surely perish. 
 
 He was now seized with the dread that he might have 
 been heard. 
 
 Once more he pressed his ear against the iron-liued 
 door, and listened. 
 
 The horrible shrieks had ceased. 
 From what cause he knew not. 
 At any rate, all now was still. 
 And yet he listened in the hope of bearing more. 
 He had began to despair of doing so, and was about to 
 turn away, when a slight sound reached his ears. 
 Be renewed his listening instantly. 
 Jonathan Wild had not yet, as he believed, left the 
 cells, and it was important that he should be assured 
 upon this point before be ventured to communicate in any 
 way with Blueskin. 
 
 Should he, by any unlucky chance, be overheard, he 
 would be ruined. 
 
 The reader may then imagine the iuteutness with 
 which he listened. 
 
 The next sound that reached his ears was that of a door 
 closing violently. 
 
 Immediately afterwards he heard a key turned in a 
 lock and the bar put up. 
 
 Theu followed the heavy tread of the thief-taker along 
 the passage. 
 Jack fancied by the sound that he came nearer. 
 He paused. 
 
 Surely it was before bis own door ! 
 Was ho about to enter ? 
 
 Could it be possible that be had beard the hammering 
 against the door, aud was about to ascertain the cause of 
 it? 
 
 It seemed probable. 
 Oh ! the agony of that moment ! 
 
 Jack felt as though he bad been suddenly changed to 
 stone. 
 
 To his infiuite relief, however, the thief-taker continued 
 on his way along the passage, in the direction of the 
 flight of steps. 
 
 Jack listened to his retreatiug footsteps with the utmost 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Before, however, we proceed to relate what took plaoa 
 between him and Blueskin, we will revert to tbe late 
 proceedings of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was ignorant of the cause of those 
 terrible cries which he had heard, but there is no reasoa 
 why the reader should be. 
 
 We will, therefore, follow the thief-taker after he left 
 Blueskin's cell. 
 
 We have already described at full length the interview 
 which took place between them, and its results. 
 
 We have stated in what an angry mood it was that 
 Jonathan left the cell and closed the door behind him. 
 
 As he stood in tbe dark and dismal passage, a thou- 
 sand angry passions were warring at bis heart. 
 
 Woe to those who should cross him while in bis 
 present mood ! 
 
 Wild did not seem inclined immediately to seek the 
 surface. 
 
 For a moment he paused, with bis brows knit in silent 
 thought. 
 
 Then, making up his mind, as it would seem, upon a 
 point about which he had some hesitation, he crossed the 
 corridor in a diagonal direction, and paused before another 
 of the numerous cell-doors. 
 
 He deliberately undid the ponderous fastenings. 
 Then, flinging open the door, he strode in.
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 489 
 
 [jack sheppard discovers blueskin's cell.] 
 
 A quantity of impure air'gushed forth, and for a moment j 
 threatened to choke him. 
 
 The torch, too, suddenly diminished in lustre. 
 
 He shook it, however, and held it up above his head. 
 
 A dim radiance only proceeded from it. 
 
 The rustling of straw followed his entrance. 
 
 At first, however, the darkness was too intense for the 
 keen eyes of the thief- taker to pierce it. 
 
 He strode still further into the cell, in spite ot the 
 noxious odour which assailed his senses. 
 
 Then was revealed a most miserable spectacle. 
 
 Crouching down upon a small quantity of damp and 
 discoloured straw, was something in the form of a human 
 being, but which looked far more like a wild beast. 
 
 It was a human being, however, as its presence in that 
 place alone would testify. 
 
 And then, if any further proof was wanting, the 
 miserable wretch, upon seeing who was his visitor, shrank 
 back, in horror and detestation, as far as he was able. 
 
 Then, with wildly-gleaming eyes, which g^red omi- 
 nously in the darkness of the dungeon, he glared upon the 
 
 tb Jonathan cast a satisfied glance upon the abject form at 
 
 his feet. . . , ■ , 
 
 He could see it more plainly every moment. 
 Not only was his vision becoming accustomed to the 
 obscurity, but the foul air, rushing out and ""S 1 "^ ™™ 
 the comparatively pure air in the passage, allowed the 
 torch to burn with greater brilliancy ._ . 
 
 For some few moments Wild remained in a fixed atti 
 tude, gazing upon his prisoner. , . . 
 
 He seemed to gloat over the havoc that had taken 
 place in that once manly and robust frame. , .,, 
 
 j Now, nothing but a poor miserable being, so hombly 
 emaciated that his bones were literally sticking through 
 the loosely-hanging skin, met his view. 
 
 Strengthless now was that once powerful aim , Itte 
 nuated that once bold intellect. 
 
 No. 62.
 
 490 
 
 BLUESK.IN: A. BflMANCB. 
 
 Ola! it was a spectacle most heart-rending to look 
 upon ; and yet Jonathan contemplated it unmoved — or, at 
 all events, with a species of satisfaction. 
 
 The reader may, perhaps, recognise this miserable 
 being ; and, great as may be tbo abhorrence which his 
 former actions may have excited, still, we think, when 
 viewing him in this plight, they will not refuse some small 
 amount of sympathy. 
 
 It was the so-called Lord Donmull; but now so 
 strangely altered, that not even his most intimate asso- 
 ciate would recognise him. 
 
 The envious younger brother— the treacherous friend— 
 the abductor of his infant niece, whom ho doomed to a 
 frightful death, in order that ho might step into her place 
 — the usurper of the poor child's inheritance — the acom- 
 plished villain — the victim of his associates — such was 
 the being who now crouched down in abject fear before 
 the thief- taker. 
 
 Such actions as his assuredly deserved punishment, but 
 scarcely such as he received at tho bands of the villain he 
 had taken into his confidence, to free him from the com- 
 plications of his situation. 
 
 Jonathan had betrayed him. 
 
 As long as it answered his purpose, and as long as he 
 thought it safe, he had allowed him his liberty. 
 
 But, when remorse had seized upon him, when he 
 talked of endeavouring to repair and atone for the misery 
 he had caused, and the wrong he had done, then Wild 
 judged it to be imprudent to let him remain at liberty any 
 longer. 
 
 Treacherously he decoyed him into tho cell, and here 
 he had ever since remained. 
 
 At length Wild spoke. 
 
 Prom his manner, it would seem as though he had 
 waited for the prisoner to speak. 
 
 Finding, however, that he exhibited no symptoms of 
 doing so, the thief-taker addressed him. 
 
 He employed the same sneering, mocking tones as he 
 bad used to Blueskin, only, in consequence of the angry 
 state of his mind, they were now so much bitterer. 
 
 "Well, my lord," he said, "you don't look quite so 
 well to-day. I am sadly afraid the atmosphere of this 
 place does not very well agree with you. However, it 
 can't be altered. You must make the best of it you can. 
 Why don't you speak, eh ? " 
 
 The miserable prisoner seemed to struggle with his 
 emotion for a moment, and then he said, in a voice so 
 hollow that it seemed as though he had isausd from a 
 tomb— 
 
 " What have I to say to you, Jonathan Wild ? You 
 pay no attention to my supplications. Eelease mo, and I 
 will agree to do all that you demand of me." 
 
 " You should have reasoned yourself into this state of 
 mind a little earlier." 
 
 "What mean you?" 
 
 " It is now too late." 
 
 " Too late ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How too late ? " 
 
 " Be content to know that it is." 
 
 " You forget the papers." 
 
 " No, I don't." 
 
 The prisoner glared at the mocking countenance of his 
 captor with dismay. 
 
 He had reckoned upon those papers as a kind of security 
 for bis life. 
 
 Now Wild did not seem to caro about thorn. 
 
 His heart sickened. 
 
 _ With a voice so agitated that he could scarcely utter 
 his words with sufficient distinctness to bo understood, he 
 said — 
 
 " You misunderstand me, Jonathan Wild." 
 
 The thief-taker shook his head. 
 
 " Indeed you must do. Those papers are essentially 
 requisite to the consummation of that scheme which you 
 buve had the audacity to contemplate." 
 
 " You admit that P " 
 
 " I do," said the prisoner, eagerly. " I assure you of it." 
 
 " Indeed ? " 
 
 " Yes ; they are of the utmost importance. You cannot 
 succeed in your designs without them." 
 
 " Are you sure of that ?" 
 
 " Cmifco sure." said the poor prisoner, with increasing 
 eagerness. 
 
 "That's a pity." 
 
 " Why ? " 
 
 " You should have told me this before." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Just what I say." 
 
 " I cannot understand you." 
 
 " Did I not tell you it was too late ? " 
 
 " Ye — es : but I cannot conceive how it could be too 
 late." 
 
 Abel Donmull passed his hand over his forehead con- 
 fusedly. 
 
 " You may take my word for it," said the thief-taker ; 
 " it is too late." 
 
 "But, I tell you again that it is impossible for you to 
 succeed in your plans without you have those documents 
 in your possession." 
 
 " I admit that." 
 
 The prisoner looked puzzled and bewildered. 
 
 To Jonathan the contemplation of his eagerness and 
 anxiety afforded the utmost delight. 
 
 He was now having his revenge upon him. 
 
 " You admit the importance of the papers," said the 
 prisoner, after a momentary pause. 
 
 " I do. I have never attempted to deny it." 
 
 " Oh ! Jonathan Wild," screamed Abel, full of the 
 most horriblo forebodings of what this scene preluded, 
 " speak out more plainly — tell me all ! " 
 
 " What more do you want to know ? " 
 
 " The papers ! " 
 
 " Well, what of them ? " 
 
 " Release me, Jonathan Wild ; fulfil your promise; let 
 me reverse my former determination ; release me, and I 
 will place those papers in your hands." 
 
 A mocking smile came to Jonathan's lips. 
 
 " Too late," he said ; " too late." 
 
 " Again those awful words," said the prisoner, wrought 
 up to a pitch of madness. 
 
 " Yes, if they are awful words." 
 
 " To me they are, because I cannot understand them." 
 
 4k They aro easily enough understood, I should think." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild, listen to me." 
 
 " I am paying every attention." 
 
 " I am now a miserable object — the most wretched 
 being on the face of the earth. So, perhaps, I ought to 
 be. I am receiving the well-merited punishment for my 
 villainy. Your turn will come some day." 
 
 Jonathan Wild shook visibly when these words fell 
 with the force of a prophecy upon hi3 ears. 
 
 The prisoner continued — 
 
 " Still, I desire my freedom ; give it to me, and you 
 shall receive those papers from me — they are now in a 
 place where you will never find them." 
 
 CHAPTER CCCX. 
 
 LORD DONMULL AT LENGTH HEAPS THE REWARD DUE TO 
 HIS CRIMES. 
 
 "Are you sure of that?" said Jonathan, in a tone of 
 voice that fairly made the flesh on the prisoner's bones 
 creep again. " Are you sure that you have deposited 
 those papers in a place where it is impossible for me, if I 
 chose to take the trouble, to find them ? " 
 
 The prisoner was silent. 
 
 Por the first time he felt doubtful about the safety of 
 the papers, and about the excellence of the hiding-placo 
 he had contrived for them. 
 
 His heart beat with redoubled violence, and he looked 
 up to the thief -taker's countenance in a vain attempt to 
 read his thoughts. 
 
 But he failed in this. 
 
 Making a great effort, he resolved to know the worst at 
 once. 
 
 " Jonathan Wild," he said ; " tell me— answer me— have 
 you found those papers ? " 
 
 The thief -taker did not immediately reply, but gazed 
 mockingly upon his victim. 
 
 " If I have found them," he said, at length, in a tone of 
 the deepest significance — "if I have found them, how 
 much would you give for your life?" 
 
 "My life!" screamed the prisoner, the excitement of 
 the moment lending him strength sufficient to start to his 
 feet, and stand upright before his enemy. 
 
 " Yes." said Jonathan, unmoved, "your life I"
 
 BLU1SKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 491 
 
 " Pflt. have you found the papers ? " 
 
 " Did I not tell you you were too late, when you pro- 
 mised to place them in my hands ? " 
 
 " You did, you did." 
 
 " What conclusion, then, can you draw from that ? " 
 
 " The worst." 
 
 "The worst?" 
 
 '• Yes, hut tbat is not enough for me. Tell me at 
 once, clearly and distinctly, whether you have found the 
 papers." 
 
 " I have." 
 
 The prisoner staggered back and almost fell. 
 
 But a momentary hope, which gleamed across his brain, 
 enabled him to recover himself. 
 
 Tbat hope was that the thief -taker was deceiving him, 
 and that, in reality, he had not found the papers. 
 
 He would question him, and then all doubts would be 
 resolved. 
 
 Jonathan noticed this, and knew the hope by which he 
 was inspired as well as if he had expressed it. 
 
 It rejoiced him to think how completely he should be 
 able to demolish that hope, and how bitterly his victim 
 would be disappointed. 
 
 His countenance remained unchanged. 
 
 The prisoner could gather nothing from that. 
 
 Feverishly, he proposed his first question— 
 
 " Where aid you find the papers ? " 
 
 " You thought you had hidden them where I should 
 never find them ! " 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Then you were deceived." 
 
 " I have only your word for that." 
 
 " True ; but what more evideuce do you require ? " 
 
 " Something that I can rely upon better." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " 
 
 Abel Donmull could not control a shudder when he 
 heard this laugh, which sounded so fiendish and triumph- 
 ant. 
 
 His heart sank again. 
 
 Still he resolved to know the worst. 
 
 " Tell me," he said again, " where did you find those 
 papers ? " 
 
 " I confess I had some trouble in the matter," said 
 Wild, without replying to the question asked him, " but, 
 then, such a simple matter as that was not likely to 
 baffle me. I sought till I found." 
 
 "Till you found?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " But where did you find ? " 
 
 " Don't be impatient." 
 
 " Jonathan Wild, I do not believe you ; if you really 
 had found the papers you would answer me." 
 
 " Oh ! should I ? " said Jonathan, mockingly. 
 
 "Oh! this suspenseful torture is horrible," groaned 
 the prisoner. " Oh ! that I knew the truth, and then I 
 should know what to expect. Tell me, tell me." 
 
 " Do not excite yourself." 
 
 " Excite myself ! Jonathan Wild, you must be a demon, 
 though the shape you wear is human." 
 
 "Ha! ha!" 
 
 " I say you aro a demon ; if you were not, you could not 
 contemplate, unmoved, such sufferings as mine are." 
 
 " You repent now, do you not, that you refused the 
 offer I made you on the occasion of my last visit ? _ If you 
 had taken it you would have been at liberty by this time. 
 Fool that you were, that when you saw a chance of achiev- 
 ing your freedom you did not embrace it. Now, that 
 chance is gone." 
 
 " No, no ; I will not believe it— at least, not without 
 some further proof than your bare allegation." 
 
 " You might as well do so. I speak the truth." 
 
 " I should believe you if you would tell me where the 
 papers were found." 
 
 " Your belief is immaterial ; you can do just as you 
 like. I say I have the papers, and you have no longer 
 anything to offer that will induce me to set you at 
 liberty. 
 
 " I cannot believe it. I took such pains, and gave such 
 strict injunctions." 
 
 " I know you did." 
 
 "How? You know?" 
 
 " Yes. You little thought I should peruse the pretty 
 little superscription you had written upon them." 
 
 Tho prisoner stared aghast. 
 
 Up to this moment be had cheated himself into the 
 belief that Wild was trying to impose upon him. 
 
 His last speech, however, he well knew, indicated a 
 knowledge of them, if nothing more. 
 
 " You have found them, then ? " he gasped. 
 
 " Of course I have. I went first to your town mansion 
 in Piccadilly, and searched it in vain — at least, not 
 altogether in vain, for I found there a letter from a certain 
 lawyer in the Temple. It was a letter about a mortgage, 
 but it served to put me on the right scent. Do you 
 believe me now, Abel, eh ? " 
 
 A cold sweat had burst forth upon the brow of the un- 
 fortunate Lord Donmull, and hung there in clustering 
 beads. 
 
 His whole frame trembled, and he seemed in imminent 
 danger of falling. 
 
 No longer could he delude himself with the idea that 
 the papers were undiscovered ; and yet, with the pertina- 
 city of despair, he clung to the idea that Jonathan was 
 deceiving him. 
 
 The thief-taker, however, went on. 
 
 " When I had once got that address the rest was simple. 
 It is scarcely nscessary to mention the name of the lawyer, 
 but, as you seem so very hard of belief, I will do so. It 
 is William Mudford, and his offices are in Pump-court, 
 Temple. I went there, and found the packet of papers in 
 a tin box containing other documents relating to the Don- 
 mull family. You may be sure I lost no time in taking 
 possession of such important papers. I was rather 
 amused with that superscription of yours — it was so like 
 you. Not content with confessing youir own crimes, you 
 must needs implicate me, and try to gfcfc my neck into the 
 halter. However, that danger is past, so it does not 
 matter. You don't look so well as you did a little while 
 ago, my friend." 
 
 Every word of this last speech fell like repeated blows 
 upon the heart of Abel Donmull. 
 
 Jonathan had found the papers. 
 
 His words proved it. 
 
 All was now lost, and a deep groan came from his over- 
 charged breast. 
 
 He had relied upon those papers as being the means of 
 preserving his life ; but now all was over : they were in 
 the possession of Jonathan Wild, and he was wholly in 
 his power. 
 
 These were terrible thoughts to have, and he glanced 
 apprehensively at the darkening countenance of his 
 foe. 
 
 What hope had he of mercy from such a man ? 
 
 He shuddered, and resigned himseff to the worst. 
 
 He leaned heavily against the wall. 
 
 Without its support he would have fallen. 
 
 He glanced, once more, furtively into the countenance of 
 the thief-taker. 
 
 It wore a still more ominous expression. 
 
 The truth was, Jonathan Wild was tired of playing with 
 his victim, and was contemplating the delivery of the last 
 stroke. 
 
 Abel Donmnll knew his danger, and a scream came 
 from his lips. 
 
 It was the first which struck upon tue ears of Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 He knew the danger of his position. 
 
 Now he would be nothing but an incumbrance to 
 Wild, and the hated possessor of many dangerous 
 secrets. 
 
 His death, then, would be most desirable. 
 
 Now that Wild had got the papers, what was to hinder 
 him from taking it ? 
 
 Nothing; but, at the same time tbat he came to this 
 conclusion, he resolved not to suffer his life to be taken 
 from him without making at least an effort to protect it. 
 
 He would sell it dearly. 
 
 As these thoughts swept through his brain with the 
 velocity of the whirlwind, they suggested others. 
 
 A hope of escape presented itself to his view. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was there — within his reach — and off his 
 guard. 
 
 Would it not be possible for him to spring forward with 
 great suddenness, and cause the thief-taker such surprise 
 as to render him incapable of resistance until he had got 
 the mastery of him. 
 
 He thought so ; and, as soon as the thought occurred 
 to him, he proceeded to put it into execution, for he well
 
 492 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 knew that his position was most desperate, and that 
 prompt measures could alone avail him. 
 
 All would depend upou bis being able to take his adver- 
 sary by surprise. 
 
 Of a truth, the thought of his prisoner^ making an 
 attack upon him never once entered Wild's mind. 
 
 Excitement, and the hope of making his escape, not only 
 from horrible captivity, but perhaps speedy death, endowed 
 Abel Donmull with factitious strength sufficient for his 
 purpose. 
 
 Turning swiftly round, he bounded forwards. 
 
 He had calculated his distance correctly before ho took 
 his spring, and his fingers grasped Wild tightly by the 
 throat. 
 
 He felt them there, and, with the frenzy of a maniac, 
 buried his vulture-like claws in his flesh. 
 
 Jonathan was taken by surprise. 
 
 So astonished was he that he dropped the torch, which, 
 however, was not extinguished. 
 
 It smouldered on the ground, and diffused a faint light 
 over the cell. 
 
 But Wild quickly recovered frqm his astonishment — long 
 before his prisoner had time to obtain any decided advan- 
 tage over him. 
 
 A horrible imprecation came from his lips. 
 
 Then he commenced a struggle. 
 
 But he was astonished at the strength of his adversary. 
 
 It was the strength of a maniac. 
 
 By an exertion of the tremendous muscular power which 
 he possessed, Jonathan freed himself from his grasp, and 
 forced Abel down on to the ground. 
 
 Then, releasing him with the quickness of thought, be 
 sought in his pockets for the short, thick bludgeon, which 
 he invariably carried with him. 
 
 To grasp it was the work of a moment._ 
 
 Just then Abel Donmull struggled to his knees. 
 
 Uttering a fiendish yell, Jonathan raised the bludgeon 
 in the air, and brought it down with terrific force. 
 
 Abel saw it coming. 
 
 He cried for mercy, and put up his hands to ward off 
 the blow. 
 
 In vain. 
 
 The heavy bludgeon descended upon his head \<ith a 
 sickening crash ! Another and another blow followed, 
 and then Abel Donmull lay upon the floor of the cell with 
 his skull completely beaten in. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD ASSURES HIMSELF OF THE DEPARTURE 
 OF THE THIEF-TAKER, AND THEN MAKES HIS WAY INTO 
 
 blueskin's CELL. 
 Such was the explanation of the awful shrieks which 
 Jack had heard, and which he rightly enough imagined 
 eame from some one in his death agony. 
 
 Occupied a3 Jonathan was, it is not at all surprising 
 that the slight noise Jack made in his excitement should 
 have failed to reach his ears. 
 
 Little did Jack think from whom those shrieks pro- 
 ceeded, and that Edgworth Bess had one enemy less in 
 the world. 
 
 At least, towards the last, Abel Donmull could scarcely 
 be called her enemy. 
 
 He had repented of what he had done, and was desirous 
 of making reparation. 
 
 It was this which sealed his death-warrant. 
 
 Had he continued to be the same as he was, Jonathan 
 would have permitted him to live much longer yet, for he 
 would have been of great service to him in the execution 
 of his plans. 
 
 Now he was better dead. 
 
 Jack heard Wild close the door of the cell and lock it. 
 
 He heard him go a few paces and then pause. 
 
 For what purpose he knew not, without it was that he 
 was pondering as to the cause "f the noise which Jack 
 had so incautiously made. 
 
 Whether this was so or not, Jonathan eventually con- 
 tinued on his way to the staircase leading up to the 
 house. 
 
 For many minutes after all sounds had died away Jack 
 continued to listen. 
 
 Ho knew the cunning and craft of his old enemy, and if 
 he suspected anything ho would be sure to go away in 
 
 such a manner that his departure could not fail to be 
 noticed, and then return with the utmost stealthiuess. 
 
 It was prudent, then, for Jack to act as he did, and not 
 risk all by any precipitate movement. 
 
 It was a hard trial upon his patience, for ho was 
 anxious, in the extreme, to let Blueskin know that he was 
 so close at hand. 
 
 It was important, too, that as little time should be lost 
 as possible. 
 
 Jack was full of anxiety as to the fate of Edgworth Bess, 
 and he longed that himself and his friend were at liberty 
 and searching for her. 
 
 Indeed, this was a point upon which he could not reflect, 
 and he was compelled to banish the idea as much as 
 possible from his mind. 
 
 To do this, he turned his thoughts upon his present 
 situation. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had, as he firmly believed, left the 
 precincts of the cell. 
 
 Having come to this [conclusion, he removed his ear 
 from the door — against which it had been tightly pressed 
 while he was listening. 
 
 As he did so, a faint groan came from the adjoining 
 cell. 
 
 It went to his heart, for he was well enough aware that 
 it was no ordinary suffering that would have the effect of 
 wringing such a sound from Blueskin's lips. 
 
 He started to his feet — for he had been kneeling down 
 — and made bis way towards that wall which divided him 
 from his companion. 
 
 In a low voice, he uttered the one word — 
 
 " Blueskin ! " 
 
 It must have been heard, for a sudden clanking of 
 chains and rustling of straw took place. 
 
 Again Jack pronounced the name. 
 
 " Who spoke ? " asked a hollow voice. " Who spoke ? 
 Surely I am mad, or dreaming." 
 
 " Hush ! do not speak so loud." 
 
 " Again that familiar voice. Oh ! heaven, can it be 
 possible ? " 
 
 " Hush — hush ! Be silent, or we shall be overheard. 
 It is I — Jack Sheppard.* 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 " No — no. I am here ; here to effect your release." 
 
 " Where are you ? Is it some cheat ? I hear your 
 voice plainly enough ; where are you ? " 
 
 " It is no cheat," replied Jack. " I am here in the next 
 cell." 
 
 " In the next cell ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " You, then, are a prisoner like myself. By what 
 means has Jonathan got you into his power, and where is 
 Edgworth Bess ? " 
 
 " Not so fast with your questions, my friend," said Jack. 
 '• Wait a few moments ; I will tell you all, presently." 
 
 " Why not now ? " 
 
 " Because I want to make my way into your cell first." 
 
 " But how can you do that ? It will take you a long 
 time. You will find these walls formidable obstacles, 
 even if you have proper tools to pierce them." 
 
 " Wait a bit," said Jack, " and you will see how I am 
 going to manage it. It is not such a difficult matter as 
 you seem to think." 
 
 " What are you about to do ? " 
 
 " Are you not aware that just where the wall of the cell 
 joins the ceiling there is a small square aperture, designed 
 for the purpose of ventilation, and that it is in consequence 
 of this that you can hear me speak so plainly ? " 
 
 "Yes, I am well aware of all that." 
 
 " Very well, then, it is through that aperture I intend 
 to make my way into your cell." 
 
 " Impossible ! " 
 
 "Nonsense ! " 
 
 " I tell you it is impossible." 
 
 " We will see about that." 
 
 "When Wild had those holes made," continued 
 Blueskin, "he took care to have them so made as to 
 prevent all possibility of a prisoner getting through 
 them." 
 
 " Well, you will see. Hero I come ! " 
 
 As he spoke, Jack Sheppard gave a spring uDwards, 
 and caught hold of the edge of the square opening Willi 
 his fingers.
 
 BLUBSKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 493 
 
 This is what he had done on the former occasion ; and, 
 having obtained a hold with the ends of his fingers, he had, 
 by the muscular power in his arms, drawn himself up 
 until he could get a firmer grasp. 
 This he attempted to do in the present instance. 
 But he failed. 
 
 His fingers gave way, and refused to support the weight 
 of his body. 
 He was compelled to drop to the ground. 
 He forgot that on the former occasion he was possessed 
 of his full strength, and could perform such a feat easily. 
 Now, however, the case was entirely different. 
 He was worn out and exhausted by the want of suffi- 
 cient food and rest, and by almost superhuman exertions. 
 His heart fluttered painfully when he saw how his 
 strength failed him. 
 
 He did not hurt himself when he dropped to the ground, 
 for the distance was but short. 
 His failure, however, did not dishearten him. 
 Indeed, it seemed to have an altogether contrary effect. 
 Convinced that he had not enough strength to pull him- 
 self up by the assistance of his arms alone, he endeavoured 
 to find something that would aid him in his ascent. 
 
 A rapid search round the cell showed him that there 
 was nothing there of a portable character that was likely 
 to answer his purpose. 
 Then a fresh idea struck him. 
 
 With the aid of the strong blade of his clasp-knife, he 
 should easily be able to pick out sufficient mortar between 
 two of the stones to enable him to thrust his toe into the 
 crevice, and so mount by this means. 
 
 No sooner did this thought strike him, than he set 
 about trying to carry it into effect. 
 
 Blueskin inquired anxiously what he was about, and 
 Jack at once explained his difficulty. 
 
 He attacked the mortar with his clasp-knife vigorously, 
 and soon had the satisfaction of perceiving that he made 
 rapid progress, and that he should soon have a crevice 
 large enough for his toes to be inserted in it. 
 He worked away with right good will. 
 The mortar was soft, owing to the continual damp, 
 and a tolerable space was left between each of the stones. 
 At length he ceased his labour. 
 
 He restored his clasp-knife to his pocket, and, sum- 
 moning all his strength, gave a spring upwards once 
 more. 
 
 Again he succeeded in obtaining a hold, and this time 
 he was able to retain it, because his feet had something 
 to rest upon. 
 
 By another effort he succeeded in thrusting his head 
 and shoulders through the small square aperture. 
 
 He was now all right, and, stimulated by his success, 
 forced himself still further through. 
 
 A dim kind of twilight pervaded Blueskin's cell, which 
 would have been utter darkness for anyone who had not 
 been immured in it for some time. 
 
 By the aid of this, however, Jack was just able to dis- 
 tinguish the figure of Blueskin lying on the ground. 
 
 The weight of his fetters, and the weakness produced 
 by his wound, prevented him from rising. 
 
 " Do you not find the hole too small for you to force 
 yourself through it ? " 
 
 " Not a bit of it," replied Jack, in as cheerful a voice 
 as he could assume ; " when Jonathan contrived this, 
 he did not reckon upon having a prisoner as slender as 
 I am." 
 
 " Come to me, Jack, if you can. I am uuable to come 
 to you or assist you in any way." 
 
 " Cheer up," said Jack. " I shall be able to manage 
 without your help, I have no doubt." 
 
 As he spoke these words, Jack strove to force himself 
 through. 
 But this he found a by no means easy task. 
 Had there been some one on the other side who could 
 have caught hold of his arms and pulled him down he 
 could have managed well enough, but as it was his 
 position was a very awkward one. 
 
 By slow degrees he wriggled himself through, how- 
 ever; but in the end he was compelled to drop rather 
 awkwardly to the ground. 
 But he did not mind that in the least. 
 He was on his feet again, and by the side of Blueskin, in 
 a moment. 
 The greeting between the two friends was a warm one, 
 
 and each was impatient to hear from the other an accoun* 
 of what had happened since the separation. 
 
 They talked rapidly for some time, but, as all the events 
 about which they spoke have already been set down in 
 their proper place, it is needless for us to place the parti- 
 culars of their conversation before the reader. 
 
 They did not cease until Blueskin had told Jack all 
 that had befallen him since the moment of their parting 
 in the ruined farmhouse, and until Jack had told Blueskin 
 all that had happened to himself since the same period. 
 
 As the reader may suppose, from the immense number 
 of incidents, this mutual relation consumed a great deal 
 of time. 
 
 Blueskin was especially concerned when he was told of 
 the mysterious disappearance of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 It seemed to have the effect of inspiring him with fresh 
 strength, for he felt all the importance of at once effecting 
 his release. 
 
 On the other hand, Jack could not help feeling alarmed 
 at finding Blueskin in so grievous and dangerous a state. 
 
 At length a perfect and thorough understanding was 
 arrived at, and they proceeded to talk over their future 
 actions. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was in a sinking state for want of food, 
 and inquired of Blueskin whether he was supplied with 
 any. 
 
 He was replied to in the affirmative, but at the same 
 time informed that the supplies came very irregularly. 
 
 At_ the present moment there was no food, of any 
 description, in the cell, for the rats had devoured the 
 remains. 
 
 Jack then bethought himself of the provisions he had 
 had the forethought to place in his pockets. 
 
 The quantity was but small, and half was already eaten. 
 
 Still he took out what was left, and, dividing it into two 
 equal portions, gave one to Blueskin and took one himself. 
 _ He also produced a flask which contained a small quan- 
 tity of spirit, and of this he partook equally with his com- 
 panion. 
 
 After their meal Jack felt much better, and he at once 
 proclaimed his readiness to set about attempting to effect 
 his release. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXII. 
 
 JACK SHRTPARD RELIEVES BLUESKIN FROM HIS FETTERS, 
 AND IMMEDIATELY SETS ABOUT ATTEMPTING TO ESCAPE. 
 
 "But, Jack," said Blueskin, "have you any idea 
 whether it is day or night ? If it is the former, it will be 
 very injudicious to take any steps." 
 
 Jack passed his hand over his forehead, and strove to 
 recollect whether it was day or night. 
 
 But he was unable to speak with precision. 
 
 _ The swoon into which he had fallen upon first making 
 his way into the cell, and of the duration of which he 
 could form no idea, baffled him entirely. 
 
 He racked his brain for some time to no purpose, and 
 was at length compelled to give up the attempt in 
 despair. 
 
 "We must run our risk, Blueskin," he said, " whether 
 it is day or night ; for if my life depended upon it I cannot 
 tell you, and it is just as likely to be one as the other." 
 
 " True ; and yet I wish we could ascertain. The point 
 is such an important one." 
 
 " I admit that ; but can you see any means of doing so ? " 
 
 " Alas ! no. I can think of none." 
 
 "Cheer up! my friend," said Jack. "You must not 
 speak so despondingly as that, or we shall never do any- 
 thing, you may depend." 
 
 " It is my weakness and my wounds." 
 
 " I know your sufferings must be great." 
 
 " These fetters ! " said Blueskin, " they weigh me 
 down ! " 
 
 " Pardon me, my friend," said Jack. " I had forgotten 
 them. Our first step towards escape must be the re- 
 moval of them. Fortunately, I have the means of freeing 
 you from such an encumbrance." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack drew forth his file. 
 
 A gleam of hope and joy irradiated Blueskin's heart. 
 
 Jack commenced filing vigorously at the fetters. 
 
 The iron of which they were composed, though heavy, 
 was soft, and the file sank into it as it would into wood, 
 for its teeth were sharp, and the steel of which it was 
 made well tempered.
 
 494 
 
 BLTTISKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Have you another file, Jack ? " asked Blueskin, who 
 had viewed his companion's proceedings with the utmost 
 satisfaction. " If .you have, fear not that I shall be able to 
 make use of it ; and that will reduce the length of your 
 task somewhat." 
 
 " I have only this one file," said Jack, pausing for a 
 moment in his work, " and if I had another, I don't think 
 I should let you make use of it." 
 " Why not ? " 
 
 " You will have need of all the strength you can muster 
 when the eventful moment comes." 
 " I know it." 
 
 " It won't be the easiest matter in the world to walk out 
 of here, I can tell you." 
 " I know that, too." 
 
 ".Very well, then ; while I am at work at these fetters, 
 do you listen with all the ears you have got, and warn me 
 in time should anyone be approaching." 
 " Right ; I will do so. But, Jack !" 
 "What?" 
 
 " Suppose someone was to enter this cell while you were 
 here ; what would you do ? " 
 " Well, I hardly know." 
 
 " The point deserves attention,"for someone is almost 
 sure to come." 
 
 " We must wait till then," said Jack, carelessly, " and 
 rely upon our good luck. You can think it over if you 
 like, but mind you don't forget to listen." 
 
 And, speaking these words, Jack resumed his task of 
 filing the fetters. 
 
 It was astonishing to see what progress he made. 
 He did not, however, file through one thoroughly, but 
 left it secured by a thin piece, which he eould sever in a 
 moment. 
 In this manner he did them all. 
 The motive was an obvious one. 
 
 Should anyone enter the cell before he had completed 
 his task, their suspicions would not be so likely to bo 
 aroused. 
 
 They were, however, left completely undisturbed. 
 Although Jack worked with such speed and energy, the 
 fetters were of so complicated a description that a very 
 long time elapsed before he completed his task. 
 
 He was filing away at the last link, when Blueskin's 
 quick ear detected a slight sound in the corridor with- 
 out. 
 
 He informed Jack of it, who ceased instantly and 
 listened too. 
 The slight sound was developed into a footstep. 
 Jack's position was now critical. 
 
 To return to the cell he had, with so much trouble, left, 
 he looked upon as an impossibility. 
 
 Should a visit to Blueskin's cell be intended, he was 
 certain he could never squeeze himself through the small 
 aperture in time to avoid detection. 
 
 What, then, was to be done ? for, if he remained, and 
 anyone entered, his discovery appeared to be inevitable. 
 
 The prisoners were able to hear with great distinct- 
 ness all that took place in the corridor without, in conse- 
 quence of the opening above the door, which we have fre- 
 quently had occasion to describe. 
 
 It was through this that a faint, dim light found its way 
 into Blueskin's cell. 
 
 As both listened they could distinguish the footsteps of 
 two persons. 
 
 They heard them pause, and the door opened. 
 " They are going their rounds to supply the prisoners 
 with food. Conceal yourself, or we are lost, for my cell is 
 sure to be visited." 
 
 " We shall be found, not lost, I think," muttered Jack. 
 " How am I to conceal myself in this cell ? " he added, in 
 a louder voice. 
 
 " I know not, I know not," replied Blueskin. " I fear 
 all is over with us." 
 
 " Do not despair, my friend. Even if they entered, the 
 chances are a thousand to one the cell will not be 
 examined, and, as a natural consequence, my presence 
 will pass unnoticed." 
 
 " Betake yourself to the most obscure corner," said 
 Blueskin. 
 " I shall do that, you may depend," replied Jack. 
 " Hark ! they come ! " 
 The footsteps sounded nearer. 
 Various other cell-doors were undone and quickly fas- 
 
 tened again, which'confirmed Blueskin's statement about 
 the prisoners being supplied with food. 
 
 Few words'passed between the two persons, whoever 
 they were. 
 
 At length they paused before Blueskin's cell. 
 
 Now was the anxious moment. 
 
 Jack Sheppard glided towards that corner of the cell 
 which would be concealed by the door when opened, and 
 screwed himself as close as he possibly could against the 
 wall. 
 
 Blueskin lay down upon the straw as though insensible 
 or sleeping. 
 
 A key rattled in the lock of the door, and then a voice 
 said — 
 
 " This is Blueskin's cell, Mr. Wild. Shall I leave any- 
 thing here ? " 
 
 A pause ensued, which was presently broken by the 
 voice of the thief-taker. 
 
 "No, curse you ! " he said. " Who told you to put your 
 key in that lock ? " 
 
 " I thought, Mr. Wild" 
 
 " What business have you to think, villain ? " 
 
 The man submissively removed the key. 
 
 " No," continued Wild, speaking in a very loud voice, 
 "you will leave no provisions in that cell until you have 
 further orders from me." 
 
 " Very good, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " You are not even to open the door of this cell without 
 I am with you and give you instructions to do so. Do 
 you understand me ? 
 
 " Perfectly well," replied the janizary, whose voice was 
 a strange one both to Jack and Blueskin. " I understand 
 you perfectly well, and you can rely upon my faithfully 
 carrying out all your instructions." 
 
 "Above all, see that you obey me in this," said the 
 thief -taker ; " and now follow me." 
 
 As he spoke these words, Jonathan strode away from 
 the spot. 
 
 Jack drew a long breath of relief when he thought of 
 the danger he had been fortunate enough to escape. 
 
 He did not venture to utter a word, however, while 
 Wild was anywhere within the precincts of the cells, 
 for he did not know how far his voice would be carried. 
 
 Blufcskin, too, remained perfectly silent, doubtless for 
 the very eame reason, though, perhaps, he was better 
 aware of the danger of carrying on a conversation in 
 one of the cells while Jonathan Wild was at hand than 
 even Jack wns. 
 
 It seemed a weary time to them while Jonathan and 
 the janizary went the round of the cells, but at length 
 they heard the welcome sound of their returning foot- 
 steps. 
 
 They passed the door, and at length si'euce once more 
 reigned in that gloomy region. 
 
 In a faint voice, Jack spoke. 
 
 " Well, Blueskin," he said, affecting to make light of 
 their dangerous position, " what do you think of that ? " 
 
 "Of what?" 
 
 " Of Jonathan's kind intentions towards yon." 
 
 " Oh 1 understand all that. I am rather surprised he 
 •hould have tried such a thing upon me." 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 "Why, that conversation that took place outside the 
 door was a planned affair, and intended as a means of 
 intimidation." 
 
 "Oh! indeed." 
 
 " Jonathan spoke like that on purpose. He wanted me 
 to overhear his instructions, and understand that it was 
 his design to accomplish my death by starvation. I 
 should, doubtless, be kept without food for a considerable 
 length of time in order to give colour to it, and then he 
 would pay me a visit, and renew his infamous propsals to 
 me." 
 
 " You seem to understand him pretty well." 
 
 " And so I ought to, after knowing him for the length 
 of time I have, and after having had so many oppor- 
 tunities of studying his character." 
 
 " True ! true ! said Jack ; " I see it now plain 
 enough. He would calculate upon that little bit of con- 
 versation making a deep impression on your mind." 
 
 " And it would be admirably calculated to do so, were 
 I less well acquainted with the motives that actuated 
 him." 
 
 " Just so. But, Blueskin, I tell you what it is— the
 
 BLTJESKQf: A ROMANCE. 
 
 495 
 
 sooner we get out of this place, the better. It is evident 
 you will have nothing given you to eat at present ; and 
 therefore, the longer we stay, the less able we shall be to 
 achieve our escape." 
 
 " Exactly," replied Blueskin. " I should not recom- 
 mend you to delay another moment. But how are you to 
 get that door open ? it is very strongly secured." 
 
 " Leave the door to me," said Jack, " I'll manage it ; 
 but I think the best thing I can do, is to free you alto- 
 gether from your fetters. 
 
 " I shall be very glad to be released from them, for in 
 my present state their weight is more than I can sustain 
 without enduring great fatigue." 
 
 " Well, I don't think we need fear another visit just at 
 present." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " All right, then. For before the time comes round for 
 them to pay another, I trust we shall be far away." 
 
 " So do I, with all my heart." 
 
 Without any further delay Jack now proceeded to file 
 through Blueskin' s fetters ; and this task, owing to the 
 effective manner in which the former part of his labour 
 was accomplished, occupied but an incredibly short space 
 of time. 
 
 One by one the ponderous links were removed, and tkea 
 Blueskin once more, thanks to the exertions of his friend, 
 was unshackled. 
 
 Feeling his body relieved of the intolerable weight 
 which pressed him down, he felt that already no incon- 
 siderable step had been taken in the direction of freedom. 
 
 Much, however, yet remained to be done; but Jack 
 had confidence in his own powers, and he at once made 
 his way to the door, which was the chief obstacle he 
 would have to overcome — for, after passing through it, 
 the remainder would be comparatively easy. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD MAKES HIS WAY INTO THE PASSAGE, 
 AND ENCOUNTERS WILD AND HIS MYRMIDONS. 
 
 There are, however, few, we venture to affirm, who 
 would have looked upon that door with the same amount 
 of easy indifference that Jack did. 
 
 Its massive strength seemed to set at defiance all efforts 
 which might be made to force it. 
 
 Indeed, it had been specially constructed to render such 
 a thing impossible ; and the reader may be sure that 
 Jonathan took the utmost care that Blueskin should be 
 perfectly secure. 
 
 Oh ! how astonished and incredulous the great thief- 
 taker would have been if, when he stood at the door of 
 the cell, someone had whispered in hi3 ear that Jack 
 Sheppard was within it, as well as Blueskin ! 
 
 But Jonathan was not destined to receive any such 
 intimation ; and, as we have seen, he took his departure 
 in ignorance. 
 
 A little more light would have been of infinite service 
 to Jack in the task he was about to commence ; but, 
 as that was out of the question, he forbore to think 
 about it. 
 
 Carefully Jack felt the door with his hands, before he 
 attempted to make any attack upon it. 
 
 He found the bolt of the lock shot into a small place in 
 the stonework, provided specially for its reception. 
 
 Now, could this stone be removed, he thought that 
 would be at once the quickest and easiest way «t getting 
 the door open. 
 
 He resolved to make the attempt. 
 
 The success he had already met with in using the clasp- 
 knife, encouraged him to persevere in the use of it. 
 
 Again taking it from his pocket, he opened the blade, 
 and with it begun, in just the same manner as before, to 
 pick away the mortar. 
 
 Here, however, he found his task much more difficuft, 
 for the wall was tolerably dry, and the mortar conse- 
 quently firm. 
 
 Still, the keen edge of the clasp-knife soon made an 
 impression upon it. 
 
 Little by little did the crumbled mortar fall down upon 
 the floor of the dungeon. 
 
 Jack worked with a speed and industry remarkable to 
 
 In less time than even his companion Blueskin con- 
 sidered possible, he had loosened the stone so much that 
 he could move it backwards and forwards, and almost 
 draw it out. 
 
 Success inspired him with fresh vigour, and more 
 mortar came away before the sharp point of the knife. 
 
 At length the stone came away in his hands, when 
 he drew it towards him. 
 
 So far, then, all was well. 
 
 But though the door was no longer secured by the lock, 
 it still remained firm and immovable. 
 
 There were the massive bolts, and there was the heavy 
 bar of iron. 
 
 Both these formidable securements had to be removed. 
 
 Unweariedly Jack continued with his task. 
 
 The heavy drops of perspiration fell from his brow like 
 tears, but he heeded not this proof of the exertions he was 
 making. 
 
 He continued his efforts. 
 
 He first set to work upon the iron bar. 
 
 It was lucky he knew the exact manner in which these 
 were put up, because it rendered bis task all the easier 
 in devising a means whereby ho could take it down. 
 
 He still made use of his clasp-knife. 
 
 Inserting the blade between the door and the stone 
 wall, which served for a door-post, he moved it up and 
 down until he encountered the bar. 
 
 Then, putting forth his utmost strength, he raised the 
 handle of the knife, and strove to lift the bar from its 
 setting. 
 
 For a long time he was unsuccessful, for it fitted into 
 the staples provided for its reception tightly. 
 
 At length, however, he felt it yield to the upward 
 pressure which he applied to it. 
 
 He put forth his utmost strength. 
 
 It went still higher. 
 
 Again he tried, and this time the blade of the knife 
 slipped in some inexplicable mannei', and the iron bar 
 descended to its former position. 
 
 Jack gave utterance to an impotent curse. 
 
 Rendered passionate by thedefeat,he put forth redoubled 
 strength. 
 
 Up went the bar, and the next moment it fell with a 
 clang upon the stone flooring of the corridor. 
 
 This was something they had not foreseen, and Jack 
 and Blueakin felt their blood suddenly congeal to ice upon 
 hearing the frightful sound, which, they doubted not, 
 would reach the ears of some of thief-taker's myrmidons. 
 
 However, it would never do to hesitate, and Jack com- 
 menced an attack upon the bolts with the frenzy of despe- 
 ration. 
 
 But they were firm, and of themselves sufficient secu- 
 rity for any door — no matter how strong. 
 
 But they could not stand against Jack's file. 
 
 This was thin and sharp. 
 
 He was now easily able to introduce it between the 
 door and the wall; and he worked it backwards and 
 forwards with great rapidity. 
 
 At each stroke he could feel the file sink deeper and 
 deeper into the soft iron. 
 
 At length it was severed. 
 
 Exultant, Jack turned towards the one remaining bolt. 
 
 When he had filed through that, the door would swing 
 open upon its hinges. 
 
 Under such circumstances, who would not apply him- 
 self to work with redoubled ardour ? 
 
 What Jack performed was really incredible. 
 
 In less than half the time the first had taken the second 
 bolt was sawn through. 
 
 With a beating heart, he pushed against the door. 
 
 It swung open. 
 
 In the twinkling of an eye, he was in the corridor. 
 
 Turning round instantly, he assisted Blueskin up the 
 somewhat steep steps leading from the cells. 
 
 But now a fresh and quite unexpected danger awaited 
 them. 
 
 The bar, the fall of which, Jack fondly hoped, had been 
 productive of no alarm, had, on the contrary, aroused the 
 attention of the man whose duty it was to keep guard at 
 the grating. 
 
 It was night ; and, as usual, he was in a half-slumber- 
 ing state. 
 
 The falling bar awoke him, but he did not know 
 exactly what it was.
 
 406 
 
 BLUESKIN: A EOMANCE. 
 
 He paused and listened. 
 
 But all was still ; for the noise Jack made with the me 
 was too slight to reach so great a distance. 
 
 Unsatisfied, and confident that something unusual had 
 taken place— and dreading, too, the punishment he would 
 surely meet with for any neglect of duty— he rose to bis 
 feet, unfastened the grating, and crept down the steps. 
 
 Upon reaching the foot of them, the grinding ot the hie 
 struck upon his ears. , . . 
 
 Ho jumped to a conclusion respecting what was talcing 
 place. 
 
 Some prisoners were endeavouring to escape. 
 Back to the hall he went with the rapidity of thought. 
 He whispered a few words to the man on the lock, and 
 then darted up the stairs to Wild's room. , 
 
 Jonathan and his son— outwardly better friends than 
 ever _ wcre sitting one on each side of the fireplace, 
 smoking, and indulging in occasional conversation. 
 
 Two words sufficed to acquaint Wild with the state ot 
 ifFciirs 
 
 He started to his feet with an oath, and seized a huge, 
 heavy sword, which he had unbuckled from his waist 
 before he set down, and placed in a little nook by the side 
 of the fireplace. 
 
 Wild, junior, also snatched up a brace of pistols, and 
 
 the three made their way with full speed down the stairs. 
 
 Upon reaching the bottom, Jonathan called to the 
 
 man on the lock to follow them, as he was the only 
 
 janizary on duty and ready for immediate service. 
 
 Through the iron grating they passed in a ( dense throng, 
 so dense as somewhat as impede each other's progress. 
 
 When about half-way down the steps, they were able to 
 see the full length of the passage, and, to the unutterable 
 consternation of Jonathan Wild, who should he see emerge 
 from a cell, but Jack Sheppard. 
 
 At first he stood aghast, unable to credit the avouch ol 
 his own eyes. 
 
 He glared at him. 
 
 He saw him raise Blueskin from the cell. 
 Jonathan Wild now uttered a shout. 
 He could not have stifled it had his life depended upon 
 his doing so. 
 
 It reached the ears of our two friends, and let them 
 know the danger with which they were menaced. 
 They were on their guard instantly. 
 The thief-taker dashed down the few remaining steps 
 with the disregard for personal safety which characterizes 
 the conduct of a maniac. 
 
 His son and the two janizaries, who were all greatly 
 excited, followed him closely. 
 
 Jonathan made sure he had his prey in his grasp, and 
 he felt exultant accordingly. 
 
 He felt sure it was impossible for them to escape, and 
 that, though they might resist, he should be sure of them 
 in the end. 
 
 He forgot the very important circumstance that the 
 secret of the outlet into the yard was known to Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 Indeed, it was so long since he had had any occasion to 
 
 make use of it, that he had almost forgotten its existence. 
 
 It was not, therefore, to be surprised at, that, though 
 
 they were free from their cells, he considered them quite 
 
 as much his prisoners. 
 
 " Yield— yield.! " he shouted, " or I will fire and be the 
 death of you ! " 
 
 To this speech Jack and Blueskin paid not the least 
 attention, but made their way along the passage to the 
 first secret door leading to the second series of cells. 
 
 Jack Sheppard knew not the means by which this was 
 opened, but, fortunately for their safety, Blueskin did. 
 
 He pressed upon the spring, and the door flew open 
 instantly. 
 
 They were through it with a speed and celerity really 
 marvellous. 
 
 Upon seeing this, a yell of furious rage came from 
 Jonathan's lips. . "5 
 
 Our friends did not hear the whole of it. 
 It was abruptly cut short by Jack, who, as soon as they 
 had gained the inner passage, swung the door shut after 
 him. 
 
 It closed with a sharp snap. 
 
 They did not pause, however, for they were well aware 
 this would be only a momentary check, for Jonathan 
 would, of course, know how to press upon the spring. 
 
 Nevertheless, it was a slight advantage. 
 
 Without slackening his speed, Jack ran to the end of 
 this second passage, to where the stone was which would 
 enable them to reach the yard above. 
 
 Of this Blueskin was in ignorance until Jack had in- 
 formed him of it in the course of the conversation they 
 had had with each other in the dungeon. 
 
 Just as they gained this stone, the other secret door was 
 dashed open with terrific violence, and the gigantic form 
 of the thief-taker and his adherents appeared at it. 
 
 Upon seeing what Jack was about, his rage knew no 
 bounds, and the absolute frenzy of a madman took posses- 
 sion of him. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN SUCCEED IN BEACHING 
 NEWGATE-MARKET, BUT JONATHAN WILD FOLLOWS HARD 
 UPON THEIR TRACK. 
 
 The situation of Blueskin and Jack Sheppard was now 
 desperate in the extreme, and nothing would save them 
 from death or capture but the adoption of some mode of 
 action, the daring and boldness of which "would be com- 
 mensurate with the occasion. 
 
 The first secret door through which Wild was making 
 his way was narrow, and it was impossible for more than 
 one to pass through it at a time. 
 Jonathan's bulky form now occupied the opening. 
 Close behind him, standing in a dense throng, were the 
 two janizaries, and Wild, junior. 
 This gave Jack an idea. 
 
 It flashed across his mind the moment he turned round, 
 which Jonathan's frightful yell had involuntarily com- 
 pelled him to do. 
 
 He saw the position of his enemies, crowded together 
 as though in a tube. 
 
 Quick as thought, he drew a brace of loaded pistols 
 from his pocket, cocked them, and fired both at once. 
 
 The scene of confusion which followed can bo ima- 
 gined. 
 
 In that confined space, it was impossible for the bullets 
 to be harmless. 
 
 On the contrary, they must, of necessity, be terribly de- 
 structive. 
 
 Another yell came from the lips of the thief-taker, but 
 its character was altogether different to those which he 
 had previously uttered. 
 It was one of pain. 
 
 It was echoed by other cries from his rear, for the two 
 pistol shots had done frightful execution. 
 Jack Sheppard did not, however, wait to see this. 
 As soon as the pistols were fired, he turned towards the 
 stone that opened upon the steps. 
 He pressed upon the spring. 
 The stone revolved. 
 The steps were disclosed. 
 Jack stood aside. 
 
 " Mount, Blueskin ! " he said, urgently. " Mount, and 
 be quick for your life." 
 
 Our old friend did not want to be told twice, but dashed 
 through the email opening. 
 
 Jack followed as closely as was practicable, and pulled 
 the stone sharply after him. 
 
 He had the satisfaction of hearing the spring go snap, 
 which assured him it was fastened. 
 
 This staircase was profoundly dark, and Blueskin had 
 to grope up it in the best manner he could. 
 
 He struck himself several times against projecting por- 
 tions of the masonry, but such trifling accidents as theso 
 he took no notice of. 
 
 The reader will recollect that, when Jack Sheppard 
 passed through the square opening in the yard, he had 
 restored the movable stone to its ordinary position, being 
 confident of his power to raise it when the proper moment 
 came. 
 
 It would have been running a risk to have left it open, 
 for he could not have told who might come into the yard, 
 though, at the same time, he was aware that the thief- 
 taker made but little use of his back premises. 
 
 Ascending the steps, then, which were spiral, Blueskin, 
 not knowing how high he had to go, struck his head a 
 rather sharp blow against this stone, and then came to a 
 sudden halt.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 49? 
 
 [EBGWORTH BESS SUCCUMBS TO EXHAUSTION AND BESPAIR.] 
 
 Jack, who guessed what had happened, told him to 
 remain still while he passed him. 
 
 Owing to the narrowness of the staircase, this was a 
 difficult matter. 
 
 Jack's body was small, however, and he mauaged it. 
 
 He found that it required all his strength to lift the stone. 
 
 He succeeded in raising it, however, and slipped 
 through. 
 
 He held the stone up while Blueskin followed him. 
 
 Having reached so far in safety, they paused to listen. 
 
 A confused noise came from below. 
 
 Jack was about to place the stone slab in its proper 
 place when a fresh thought struck him. 
 
 He communicated it to Blueskin, whose approval was 
 immediate. 
 
 By their joint strength they raised the stone completely 
 from its setting. 
 
 They then turned it until they held it cornerwise over 
 the staircase. 
 
 Then they let go. 
 
 It dropped with a tremendous crash upon the step?, and 
 effectually blocked up the passage. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin were now quite confident that ^ild 
 and his followers could not make their way by that i/.eans 
 into the yard. 
 
 They would have to return along the passage, ascend 
 the steps leading up into the hall, aud reach the yard by 
 means of the back-door. 
 
 This gave our friends time. 
 
 It was very necessary. 
 
 There was the door to opeu, which led out into Newgate- 
 market, and he could not tell until he tried what trouble 
 he should have in doing so. 
 
 He now at oncu made his way towards it. 
 
 For a moment, however, we will return to the proceed- 
 ings of Jonathan Wild, who was quite impressed with the 
 notion that he had his prisoners in a kind of trap, from 
 which they could not escape. 
 
 Their passing so readily through the first secret door 
 was the first thing that staggered him in hia belief. 
 
 No. 65.
 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 He increased his speed, and shouted to those who fol- j 
 lowed to keep close behind him. 
 
 The secret spring was, of course, well known to Wild. 
 
 He pressed upon it, and the door swung open._ 
 
 Tben, to hi* unutterable horror, he saw Jack in the act 
 of removing the stone which led to the staircase, the exist- 
 ence of which he fondly hoped was known only to himself. 
 
 At the moment he did not recollect that Jack Sheppard 
 had once before made his way into the cells by that 
 means. 
 
 It was this discovery which caused him to utter the 
 dreadful yell. 
 
 Then, before he could fairly gain the inner passage, 
 Jack Sheppard fired the brace of pistols. 
 
 Wild uttered a howl. 
 
 He felt himself hit. 
 
 He staggered a pace or two, and then, throwing his 
 arms about him in a strange manner, fell gasping to the 
 ground. 
 
 His cry of pain was echoed by Wild, junior ; for he, too, 
 was hit, but not severely. 
 
 The bullet which had struck his father, wounded him 
 also on the cheek, along which it made a deep furrow 
 and took off a piece of the lower part of his ear in its pro- 
 gress. 
 
 The other bullet struck the man who had charge of the 
 grating, full in the chest, and he fell back dead without 
 uttering a groan, carryiug iu his fall his companion with 
 him. 
 
 Wild, junior, was the only one out of the four who kept 
 his feet, and he gave vent to a volley of curses that would 
 have done credit to his parent. 
 
 The unhurt ianizary was tbc first to struggle to his 
 feet. 
 
 Jonathan followed. 
 
 lie was by far more frightened than hurt. 
 
 The bullet had struck him slightly on the head, and 
 produced a momentary insensibility. 
 
 At first ho thought he was killed, but he quickly 
 recovered from his panic. 
 
 lb 1 had dropped his sword when he fell, and now, 
 taking it up once more, he rushed up the steps. 
 
 A faint gleam of light came down from the night-sky, 
 and to this circumstance was Jonathan indebted for 
 escaping a sudden and violent contact with the stone Jack 
 and Blueskiu dropped down. 
 
 As it so happened, he saw it iu time to save himself 
 from any injury. 
 
 He comprehended in an instant what had been done. 
 
 He made no attempt to remove the stone, for he well 
 knew that all his efforts would be futile. 
 
 He turned round swiftly, determined to reach the yard 
 as quickly as possible by the other route. 
 
 As he hastened along, he called out to his sou and 
 made him aware of what had happened, and ordered him 
 to follow. 
 
 George — whose blood was up, and who, on such occa- 
 sions, resembled his rascally parent more than he did at 
 any other time — did not need twice bidding. 
 
 The janizary brought up the rear. 
 
 Wild shouted out his instructions to him. 
 
 " linn to the stables," he said, " and get ready horses 
 and men. Take them round into Warwick-lane at 
 once." 
 
 Upon reaching the hall, Jonathan was pleased to find 
 that several of his men, aroused by the tremendous 
 tumult, had assembled there. 
 
 He waved his sword, and, in a shrieking tone of voice, 
 called to them to follow him. 
 
 They obeyed. 
 
 He led the way to the back of the house, and dashed 
 open the door that led into the yard. 
 
 So expeditious had he been iu his movements that Jack 
 and Blueskiu had only just left the yard. 
 
 We now revert to them. 
 
 Upon reaching the door, the first thing that attracted 
 Jack's notice was, that there were a couple of bolts at the 
 top and bottom of the door. 
 
 lie had some difficulty in withdrawing them, for they 
 had got completely rusted into their sockets. 
 
 At length, however, he succeeded. 
 
 But the door did not then yield. 
 
 it was still further secured by means of a popuevous 
 lock. 
 
 flow this was to be undone in the time seemed a 
 nj^stery. 
 
 .But Jack set to work with a good heart. 
 
 Taking the file out of his pocket, he eudcavoured to 
 force back the bolt of the lock with the point of it. 
 
 But, so far from succeeding, he only deprived himself 
 of a useful tool, for, in bending it, he broke it in the 
 middle. 
 
 With the largest fragmeut he renewed his attempt. 
 
 This time he succeeded. 
 
 The bolt flew back with a snap. 
 
 The door now gave way before the pressure which they 
 applied to it. 
 
 They passed through, and found themselves in the long 
 dark passage leading into Newgate-market. 
 
 It was just at this moment that Jonathan Wild reached 
 the yard. 
 
 He was, indeed, fearfully close upon their track, and 
 the perils of the escaping prisoners were by no means 
 over. 
 
 Jonathan was rendered furious by the pain of the wound 
 he had received, and there is little doubt that, could he 
 have overtaken Jack and Blueskin at this moment, his 
 anger would have been so great as to render him oblivious 
 of the refined system of revenge he had resolved to pursue 
 in connexion with them, and would have immediately 
 sacrificed them. 
 
 Such, however, was not to be. 
 
 Jonathan saw the open door before him, and knew in a 
 moment that his prey had fled. 
 
 Without hesitation he entered the dark passage, and, 
 traversing it with full speed, emerged directly afterwards 
 into Newgate-market. 
 
 Here no trace of them could be seen. 
 
 Calculating, however, that they would make their way 
 towards the entrance gates iu War wick -lane, he hastened 
 in that direction. 
 
 It was here where the horses were to.be. 
 
 Upon arriving at the gates, which had not yet been 
 closed for the night — for, though it was dark, the evening 
 was by no means far advanced — Jonathan looked eagerly 
 up and down the street in search, not only of the 
 fugitives, but also of the janizaries and their horses. 
 
 Of neither, however, could anything be seen. 
 
 The horses would come from the direction of Newgate- 
 street. 
 
 This was a route he could hardly conceive the fugitives 
 would take, and, if they did, they would be almost sure 
 to be intercepted. 
 
 Bidding his son remain at the gateway, and leaving 
 instructions that as soon as the horses arrived they were 
 to mount and follow him, Wild ran with full speed down 
 Warwick-lane iu the direction of Paternoster-row. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXV. 
 
 THE PURSUIT OF JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN BY 
 JONATHAN AVILD. 
 
 Weary, faint, and almost overcome — the one by the 
 weakness proceeding from his wounds, and the other 
 from the immense amount of exertion he had uudergoue 
 — Blueskin and Jack Sheppard ran, with all the speed 
 they could possibly make, through the dark and narrow 
 alleys of Newgate-market. 
 
 They could hear how close behind them their inveterate 
 foe was, and the knowledge endowed them with greater 
 fleetness than they believed possible. 
 
 They did not speak, however, because that -would have 
 involved a greater expenditure of breath thau they could 
 afford to lose. 
 
 Jack led the way towards Warwick-lane, as Wild had 
 correctly anticipated he would. 
 
 He expected he should have to climb the gates again, 
 and he trembled when he thought of the length of time 
 it would necessarily take. 
 
 It was quite an agreeable surprise when he found them 
 standing wide open. 
 
 They darted through like shadows. _ 
 
 The danger of going in the direction of Newgate was 
 obvious, and so Jack turned the other way. 
 
 With' much ado, Blueskiu kept up with him. 
 
 Every few moments he would feel his brain swim awn 
 his legs threaten to give way beneath him. 
 
 > >. 
 
 ■nuryrsuc^m
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 499 
 
 Each time, however, that lie experienced this sensation 
 of weakness, he rallied himself by a violent effort. 
 
 But this was a state of things which could not last. ' 
 
 He would have to succumb ere long. 
 
 In his weak state the exercise of running was quite 
 beyond his powers. 
 
 He lost his breath, and his heart beat with so much 
 rapidity that he dreaded every moment it would burst. 
 
 Still he kept on. 
 
 On his part, Jack Sheppard suffered scarcely less 
 severely. 
 
 When Wild and his men were mounted, what chance 
 would they then have for escape ? 
 
 Indeed, their position now looked worse than ever, and 
 both were almost ready to give up in despair. 
 
 On came the thief-taker, as remorseless and unpityiug 
 as fate. 
 
 They could hear his shouts on the still night air, as he 
 induced others to join in the chase. 
 
 Then the trampling of horses' hoofs came upon their 
 ears. 
 
 The cattle had arrived ; and Wild, junior, agreeably to 
 his father's instructions, had mounted and followed after 
 him. 
 
 He overtook the thief-taker in a few moments, and 
 Jonathan mounted the spare horse that was provided for 
 his use. 
 
 The chase was then resumed. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had been aware from the first that it 
 would be of no use for him to try to outrun his enemy, 
 and had made up his mind to seek shelter at the first 
 opportunity. 
 
 But, hitherto, no chauce had presented itself, nor did 
 any now. 
 
 Jonathan was gaining on them fearfully. 
 
 Suddenly, in his headlong course, Jack observed a 
 narrow turning, and, quick as thought, he turned down 
 it. 
 
 His principal reason for so doing was, that the passage 
 was impassable to horses, and his enemies would have to 
 dismount to follow them. 
 
 This would result in the gaining ef a little time. < 
 
 They turned down, however, only just in time. 
 
 So close was Jonathan behind them, and so much 
 greater was his speed than theirs, that, before they could 
 have gone twenty yards further, they would have been 
 overtaken. 
 
 As it was, Wild saw them turn down the narrow alley, 
 and stopped his own horse so suddenly and unexpectedly, 
 that he ran a narrow escape of being ridden over by those 
 behind. 
 
 There was a slight collision. 
 
 He dismounted recklessly, and cried — 
 
 " Follow me ! follow me, quickly ! They are trapped 
 at last. This place has no outlet. Follow me ! We are 
 sure to have them now ! " 
 
 A triumphant sort of shout came from the desultory 
 throng, and then they all poured down the alley. 
 
 Theso were dreadful words for our friends, if true ; and 
 Wild would scarcely mako such a statement without 
 having some foundation for it. 
 
 If it so happened that that particular alley, like many 
 others in London, was so constructed as to have but one 
 outlet, how were Blueskin and Jack Sheppard to escape ? 
 
 As Jonathan had triumphantly enough said, he was 
 sure to have them. 
 
 The statement was true. 
 
 Jack discovered it before the thief-taker spoke, and he 
 uttered an impotent curse at his own folly for getting into 
 such a dilemma. 
 
 The narrow turning was only a few yards in length, and 
 there was no other outlet to it than that commanded by 
 Wild and his gang. 
 
 With eyes almost starting from their sockets, Jack and 
 Blueskin glared about them. 
 
 Both were utterly exhausted, and the breath came from 
 their lungs only in short and fitful gasps. 
 
 The perspiration rolled off them in streams, and its 
 copiousness was increased by the discovery that they had 
 run into such a trap. 
 
 Discovery seemed inevitable. 
 
 It was just at this moment that they heard Wild shout 
 to Ms men in the manner we have related. 
 
 Few men possessed a more intimate knowledge of the 
 
 streets and alleys of London, in all their ramifications, 
 than did Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The moment he saw them go down the turning we have 
 mentioned, he knew there was no outlet. 
 
 By the time he had finished speaking, nearly all his 
 troop had dismounted, and followed by these, as well its 
 by a whole troop of ragamuffins who had followed in 
 the rear, attracted by their cries, he dashed down the 
 alley. 
 
 The place waa profoundly dark, and it was with diffi- 
 culty that Wild saw about him. 
 
 The inhabitants of the locality, however, gave indica- 
 tions of having been aroused by the tumult. 
 
 Lights appeared at the various casements, where all 
 had been darkness a moment before, and heads were pro- 
 jected, all eager to learn the cause of the disturbance. 
 
 In fact, the alarm was fast becoming general. 
 
 Paying no heed to all this, however, Jonathan Wild cen- 
 tred the whole of his attention upon searching the alley for 
 our two friends. 
 
 Sword in hand, he rushed into the dark corn "s, ,,'{ 
 which there were many, and made furious thrusts in fhd 
 darkness. 
 
 All this was in vain. 
 
 No trace could be discovered of those ho sought. 
 
 Perplexed and alarmed by this mysterious disappearance, 
 he recommenced his search, and concluded it without 
 coming to any other result. 
 
 Upon this, a storm of the morst horrible imprecations 
 came from his lips, and in this pleasant, edifying little 
 amusement he was ably seconded by his son. 
 
 Cursing, however, did nothing for them. 
 
 Feeling himself impeded in his movements bv those 
 around him, Jonathan looked up and saw tli6 affey was 
 now densely packed with people ; so from this it became 
 quite clear that our friends were not in it, or they must 
 have been seen by some one. 
 
 Jonathan was now forced to come to a very unwilling 
 conclusion, and that was that his prey had sought refugo 
 in one of the many houses which had doors opening into 
 the court. 
 
 If this was so, and he could account in no other way for 
 their disappearance, then his chances of capturing them 
 were much diminished. 
 
 It would be impossible for him to say which of the 
 houses they had entered, and, while he was searching one, 
 they would have ample opportunities to get off if they 
 happened to be in another. 
 
 He was thus in a state of great uncertainty, and not 
 able to decide upon the best course of action that should 
 be adopted. 
 
 While his indecision lasted, the fugitives were, doubt- 
 less, actively engaged in getting away. 
 
 Suddenly he thought of an expedient. 
 
 He forced his way into the middle of the crowd. 
 
 He got a couple of his janizaries to raise him above 
 their shoulders. 
 
 Thus elevated, he was, of course, a conspicuous object. 
 
 He was seen by the whole of the dense throng, and 
 curiosity made them for a moment silent. 
 
 Every window that looked down upon the alley was 
 crowded with anxious faces. 
 
 They saw the thief-taker, and looked to him probably 
 for an explanation of the hubbub — for they, too, ceased the 
 cries which they had hitherto uttered with great volubility 
 and power. 
 
 In a screaming voice, which seemed to pierce the ears 
 of the whole of that vast assemblage, the thief-taker 
 spoke. 
 
 " Friends all," he cried, " be silent for a moment, and 
 listen to what I have to say. It is of the utmost impor- 
 tance that you should all hear it." 
 
 These words were well calculated to arrest the atten- 
 tion, and claim the silence of all present. 
 
 In a moment all was hushed. 
 
 Jonathan, perceiving the advantage he had gained, has- 
 tened to improve upon it. 
 
 " A hundred pounds ! " he yelled, in even louder tones 
 than before. 
 
 "A hundred pounds reward !— there is a hundred 
 pounds to be earned by some of you. Listen, all, and pay 
 attention. Two escaped prisoners ran down thecourt a 
 few minutes since ; I pursued them closely, but, iu soma 
 way or other, they have disappeared. They must kaya
 
 500 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 get into one of the houses here, and I call upon each of 
 you, in the king's name, to search the houses in which 
 you live. Whoever delivers the two prisoners int* my 
 hands shall receive a hundred pounds the next nioment. 
 Look about, all of you. A hundred pounds ! [alhandred 
 pounds, I say ! " 
 
 A scene of terrible confusion now ensued. 
 
 Wild was placed upon his feet. 
 
 The people at the windows hastily withdrew, and those 
 in the alley swayed and surged about like the turbulent 
 ocean. 
 
 Wild now thought he had gained his point. 
 
 It was scarcely possible, he thought, that, supposing 
 our friends to have sought shelter in one of the houses, 
 that they could escape being seen by some one when atten- 
 t ion was so generally directed towards them. 
 
 Every persoD, in each of the houses, would become 
 aware of what had happened, and the moment Jack and 
 Blueskin were perceived, which, if they were in one of 
 the houses they could scarcely fail to be, the largeness of 
 the reward which he had offered would, he doubted not, 
 overcome all entreaties, on the part of the fugitives, for 
 protection. 
 
 The inhabitants of this neighbourhood were the poorest 
 of the poor, and a hundred pounds would be, to them, 
 almost like a colossal fortune. 
 
 All these thoughts had flashed, with the rapidity of 
 lightning, through the brain of the thief-taker when the 
 idea first occurred to him. 
 
 An anxious moment elapsed, during which his evil eyes 
 roamed over the mass of ruinous buildings which sur- 
 rounded the alley. Suddenly a tremendous tumult ensued, 
 which seemed to indicate the discovery of the fugitives. 
 
 Jonathan made sure of it, and, with a loud yell of satis- 
 faction on his lips, he forced his way through the crowd 
 in the direction of the house from which the disturbance 
 appeared to come. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXVI. 
 
 ELUCIDATES THE MYSTERY OF THE SUDDEN DISAPPEAR- 
 ANCE OF EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 We doubt not the reader feels a more than common 
 anxiety to hear what befel Edgworth Bess after disap- 
 pearing so abruptly from Jack Sheppard's gaze, as we have 
 related in a precedent chapter. 
 
 For a brief space, then, we will part company with the 
 thief-taker, and his gang, and the two fugitives, while 
 we devote ourselves to the fortunes of the unfortunate 
 heiress. 
 
 It would seem as though fate had singled her out for 
 the object at which its most malignant shafts could be 
 levelled ; for, from the first, the poor girl had known 
 nothing put poverty, persecution, and peril. 
 
 But, what was worst of all, the termination of all these 
 sufferings seemed as far off as ever, and no sooner was 
 she released from one danger than she was assailed by 
 another. 
 
 It was not possible for her to remain unconscious of 
 this. 
 
 The fact obtruded itself before her, and would not be 
 repulsed. 
 
 Naturally enough, then, she strove to find some reason 
 which would account for her being thus marked oat as a 
 victim to relentless persecution. 
 
 How was it that all the efforts which had been made to 
 place her in her proper position should have terminated so 
 disastrously ? 
 
 For a long time she was unable to frame any reply 
 whatever. 
 
 At length she came to the conclusion that the reason 
 why they were so perpetually thwarted was because 
 Blueskin and Jack had sought to obtain their ends by dis- 
 honest means. 
 
 There were various excuses which she knew would be 
 vi rged, but she determined to pay no attention to a.ny of 
 them. 
 
 The past it was impossible for them to recall, but hi lay 
 
 in their power to amend the future. 
 
 This she determined should be done. 
 
 More than once she had been about to infi t m Jack of 
 
 her reflections and resolutions, but from some cause or 
 
 other, when the moment arrived, she shrunk frcm doiDg 
 
 She was ashamed of herself for this exhibition of weak- 
 ness, and she resolved not to hesitate the next time. 
 And so things went on. 
 
 Whether, in her conjectures and conclusions, Edgworth 
 Bess was right or wrong, we leave our readers to judge. 
 
 It was while she was in this frame of mind that the 
 robbery in the lane occurred. 
 
 When, after Sir William, as he was called by the obse- 
 quious servant, had passed them, Jack had said he wished 
 he had thought to ask the gentleman what time it was, 
 and said he would run after him down the lane for that 
 purpose, no suspicion as to his real object had entered 
 her mind. 
 
 But the moment he had gone the thought struck her, 
 and she was so overcome with the recollection of her own 
 weakness in not being able to summon sufficient resolu- 
 tion to speak out upon the subject, that she sank down 
 on her knees by the side of the lane where Jack had left 
 her. 
 
 Looking in the direction he had taken, she found a 
 turn in the road hid him from her sight. 
 
 She was, therefore, spared the additional pang of being 
 a witness to the robbery. 
 
 Sounds of a struggle, however, reached her ears, and 
 confirmed her utmost dread. 
 
 She did not swoon, but it was only by the greatest 
 efforts she could make that she retained her senses. 
 At length she heard Jack returning. 
 She heard him call upon her by name, but she was un- 
 able to reply. 
 At last he found her, and raised her to her feet. 
 Then ensued that conversation which we have already 
 placed before the reader. 
 
 She told him her convictions, and implored him to 
 make a change in his tactics ; but, ere she could wring a 
 consent from him, a lumbering sound reached her ears. 
 It was the London stage-coach approaching. 
 To her unbounded astonishment, Jack hailed the 
 vehicle, and, before she could recover from her surprise 
 sufficiently to expostulate or resist, he had opened the 
 door of the coach and lifted her in. 
 
 Then she had sunk upon a seat and burst into tears. 
 The reader will remember that upon the arrival in Lon- 
 don, Edgworth Bess, convinced that the possession of the 
 stolen money could do them no good, implored Jack, with 
 the greatest earnestness, to fling it away. 
 
 But her companion, who had had a larger experience of 
 the world, and who knew that, if he parted with this 
 money, their position would be truly desperate, for the 
 first time in his life hesitated about acting implicitly in 
 the manner which she directed. 
 
 He endeavoured, as well as he could, to urge upon her 
 another view of the case. 
 
 This, however, he found was quite useless, though he 
 persevered in the use of such arguments as at the moment 
 he was able to command. 
 
 But his companion, so far from replying to or noticing 
 his objections in any way, did nothing but repeat her 
 request that, since it was impossible for him to return 
 the articles to their proper owner, he should throw them 
 
 away. 
 
 With the result of this interview the reader is ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 Jack, though he did not flatly refuse to do as she re- 
 quired, hesitated, and showed no appearance of being 
 willing to do so. 
 
 On the contrary, he exhibited the utmost reluctance. 
 
 Not only was she vexed to think he did not take the 
 same view of the case as she did, but secretly mortified 
 that he, to whom all her former wishes had been law, and 
 productive of immediate obedience, should now refuse 
 this request, which she was assured in her own mind 
 was of such vital importance to their mutual interests. 
 
 A feeling nearly akin to anger found a place in her 
 breast, when she discovered her wishes to be so little 
 regarded ; and, at length, to such a pitch did this feeling 
 reach, that she, as she had threatened, uttered the word 
 farewell, and left him. 
 
 Without noticing which way she took, and, without 
 taking into consideration the consequences that would be 
 almost certain to follow this hasty action, 6he turned round 
 aud ran rapidly away. 
 
 The thick haze which filled the streets hid her in a 
 moment from Jack's anguished gaze, and, as we know, all
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 501 
 
 his subsequent efforts to obtain a glimpse of her were 
 fruitless. 
 
 That this should be so will not appear at all astonishing 
 to anyone acquainted with the intricacies of the streets of 
 London. They will know that in two moments it is pos- 
 sible to lose sight of a person, even in broad daylight, and 
 that all attempts to find him would prove abortive. 
 
 Jack, however, had the fog to contend with, and, more- 
 over, his mind was in such a state of perturbation at her 
 sudden disappearance, that he was incapable of looking 
 about him with proper coolness. 
 
 Thus was it that he failed to find her. 
 
 As for Edgworth Bess, her eyes filled v.ith tears, and 
 her heart swelled with grief; she, without considering 
 what she was about, ran rapidly and deviously along. 
 
 She was oblivious of the fact that Jack might have the 
 greatest possible difficulty in finding her. 
 
 She was only conscious that he had hesitated and 
 refused at a moment when she thought he would be least 
 likely to do either the one or the other. 
 
 So she ran on. 
 
 She fancied that while she continued this rapid motion 
 her feelings would not be so acute, and probably in this 
 she was correct. 
 
 More than one person turned round, with surprise, as 
 the flying form of the young girl flitted by them, but each 
 had his own business to attend to, and no time to look 
 after other people's, and so she was suffered to pursue her 
 path unmolestedly. 
 
 But at length, startled by the sudden clearing up of the 
 fog, and the bursting forth of the sun, she paused and 
 looked about her. 
 
 She found she was in London, but in a portion of it 
 with which she was totally unacquainted. 
 
 In vain she looked all around her for some familiar 
 building. 
 
 Not one was to be seen. 
 
 She now began to repent that she had acted in so rash 
 a manner, and left Jack so suddenly as she had. 
 
 Now she would have given worlds to have seen him, to 
 have once more rejoined him. 
 
 But, as with tearful eyes she looked in every direction, 
 she was unable to see anything of him. 
 
 She felt now as though her heart would surely break. 
 
 What to do, or where to turn, she knew not. 
 
 She was even ignorant of the way she had just come, 
 and could not have retraced her steps had her life depended 
 upon her doing so. 
 
 The streets, too, began to fill with people, and these, 
 being for the most part the dregs of the population, 
 insulted and jeered her for the forlorn appearance which 
 she presented. 
 
 She shrank back from them with a feeling of loathing. 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 They pressed still more closely around her, until, at 
 length, she was compelled to fly, once more, at the top of 
 her speed, to escape their persecutions. 
 
 A hooting mob, composed principally of evil-disposed 
 children, followed her in a yelling throng, and pelted her 
 with such missiles as came conveniently to their hands. 
 
 At length, however, without having received any injury, 
 she was fortunate enough to distance them. 
 
 As soon as she was able, she reduced her pace, and once 
 more looked about her, and endeavoured to ascertain her 
 whereabouts. 
 
 But again she found herself at fault. 
 
 She had never possessed an intimate or extensive know- 
 ledge of London ; for, from a tender age, she had been 
 employed working early and late for the means of sup- 
 porting a wretched and miserable existence. 
 
 Thus she had never had many opportunities afforded 
 her of going abroad. 
 
 The character of the locality in which she now was 
 differed essentially from that which she had just left. 
 
 The houses were old-fashioned, and many of them 
 showing the effects of time rather conspicuously ; but, from 
 the general appearance of the exteriors, the inhabitants of 
 them appeared to be respectable people. 
 
 The streets were quiet, and almost free from vehicles 
 and passengers. 
 
 The houses were almost all private ones. 
 
 It was only at irregular intervals that she encountered 
 a shop, and these were invariably small, and but scantily 
 furnished with vendibles. 
 
 Almost heartbroken, the poor girl looked around 
 her. 
 
 No familiar object met her eye, and though she had not, 
 expected such a thing, yet she could not help feeling disap- 
 pointed when she found that no trace of Jack Sheppard 
 was visible. 
 
 His refusal filled her breast with the greatest torture, 
 and she thought that perhaps now, while she was looking 
 so eagerly for him, he was altogether heedless of her 
 whereabouts. 
 
 This was a thought so poignant that she burst into a 
 flood of tears, of so violent a character as to be actually 
 terrible to witness, while convulsive sobs came from her 
 distracted bosom. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXVII. 
 
 THE POSITION OF THE POOR HEIRESS CHANGES PROM 
 BAD TO WORSE. 
 
 But it was only for a few moments that this thought held 
 possession of the poor girl's mind; and, when she had 
 banished it, she wondered how she had first entertained 
 it. 
 
 She looked back upon the past, and recollected the 
 thousand proofs which Jack had given her of his affection, 
 and she had perceived no abatement of it, except such as 
 his refusal to throw away the money indicated. 
 
 Could she, then, believe that he was heedless of her 
 whereabouts ? 
 
 Ah ! no ; doubtless at that very moment he was eagerly 
 searching for her in every direction. 
 
 She now deeply blamed herself for having acted so 
 hastily as she had. 
 
 Jack would seai-ch for her now unremittingly, she felt 
 certain, and she would search for him. 
 
 If they both did this, they must eventually meet each 
 other, and she hoped this would happen soon. 
 
 Encouraged by this hope, she looked around with a 
 more hopeful gaze; but her eyes encountered not the 
 wished-for form. 
 
 Still she hastened onward, expecting every moment to 
 arrive in some locality with which she was familiar. 
 
 But all was strange to her. 
 
 What pained her most was that she was now beginning 
 to feel the effects of such long-continued exertion. 
 
 She was, in fact, terribly fatigued ; and her limbs 
 threatened every moment to give way beneath her. 
 
 The miles she had by this time walked and run was 
 incredible. 
 
 She was, too, almost famished. 
 
 Many hours had elapsed since food last passed her lips, 
 and hunger was gnawing at her breast. 
 
 These two circumstances could not fail to have an effect 
 upon her mind, and she again suffered the utmost depres- 
 sion of spirits. 
 
 This increased as her hunger and fatigue became 
 greater. 
 
 At length, thoroughly wearied out, she found she could 
 go no further. 
 
 She paused, and looked around her. 
 
 But she was so giddy and sick that she was only 
 able to see, confusedly, that she was in a long, dark 
 street, containing many ancient-looking houses. 
 
 A sigh of disappointment and despair came from her 
 lips, and then, unable any longer to support herself, she 
 sank down upon a step which led up to a ruinous-looking 
 edifice. 
 
 Burying her face in her hands, she burst into another 
 flood of tears ; and again sobs of the most heartrending 
 description came from her breast. 
 
 Her grief was now ten times greater than before. 
 
 Oh ! how bitterly she reproached herself for having 
 acted so rashly as she had ! for, not only had it been pro- 
 ductive of so much suffering to herself, but to Jack also, 
 who could not but feel deeply the separation. 
 
 Regrets, however, were useless ; and this conviction 
 only added to her grief. 
 
 And now a dreadful lassitude began, by slow degrees, to 
 creep over her. 
 
 At first she was insensible of it, until too late to check 
 its progress. 
 
 It proceeded from the combined effects of fatigue and 
 hunger. 
 
 It seemed to hold her will powerless.
 
 502 
 
 BLUJiSKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 She found herself, not only unablo to move, but unable 
 tc make the mental effort to do so. 
 
 By degrees all feeling left her. 
 
 She became unconscious of her situation — of her hunger 
 and of her fatigue — though there still lingered about her 
 brain a dim remembrance of where she was. 
 
 But at last even this sensation passed away, and she 
 lapsed into a state of utter insensibility. „ 
 
 How long she remained thus she knew not. 
 
 For a time, she had not the least idea of what hap- 
 pened. 
 
 It was not for long, however, that she was permitted to 
 remain unmolested on this doorstep. 
 
 That adverse fate which had so long been her lot still 
 pursued her unrelentingly. 
 
 And yet, as she sat there, she looked an object ^which 
 few would trouble themselves about. 
 
 Her dress was torn, faded, and travel-stained. 
 
 Her hair was in disorder, and but few traces of her 
 beauty remained visible. 
 
 A close observer would, however, have noticed the 
 grace of her whole figure, marred as it was by the rough 
 clothing with which it was covei - ed ; and would have per- 
 ceived the delicacy of her hands and feet, which so well 
 corresponded with it. 
 
 Edgworth Bess knew it not, but she was in West- 
 minster — a place which, a century and a quarter ago, was 
 very much worse than it is at present. 
 
 It w : as, in fact, the resort of all those persons who pro- 
 cured a living in defiance of the laws by which the country 
 is governed, and vice and crime of every description pre- 
 vailed in it. 
 
 Into such a neighbourhood as this had the poor heiress 
 been unfortunate enough to stray, and sink down without 
 the power to protect herself. 
 
 Heaven help her ! for she had, indeed, need of its pro- 
 tection. 
 
 The street iu which she was happened to be one of 
 a more respectable character than those which sur- 
 rounded it. 
 
 It was quiet and retired, and Edgworth Bess remained 
 insensible for nearly half-an-hour, before a single person 
 came by. 
 
 At the expiration of that time, however, a female 
 emerged from a side street, and passed the doorstep. 
 
 As soon as she saw Edgworth Bess, the woman 
 paused. 
 
 She was very stout and masculine in appearance, being 
 apparently about fifty years of age. 
 
 Her person was decked off with garments of the most 
 gorgeous description, and, doubtless, when by themselves 
 would have looked well, but, combined as they were, they 
 had far from a pleasing effect. 
 
 The reader will understand us when we say that her 
 dress was iu colour crimson, of so brilliant a hue as to be 
 almost painful for the eye to look upon it. 
 
 Over her shoulders she wore a shawl of huge dimen- 
 sions. 
 
 Its colour was a bright yellow, and ornamented with 
 huge figures of birds and flowers, which appeared to be 
 embroidered upon it with silk of a vivid green. 
 
 On her head she wore one of those small, coquetish- 
 looking hats, which, upon a young and handsome girl, 
 looked so bewitching, if wo may trust to the fidelity of 
 the portraits which have come down to us. 
 
 But upon the head of this extraordinary-looking female 
 quite a different effect was produced ; moreover, it was 
 ornamented with a feather of the deepest scarlet. 
 
 Add to this that her face vied in redness with any of 
 the garments she wore — that her eyes were small, ferrety, 
 and moist, from the effects of strong liquors — that her 
 nose was of an unnatural size, and embellished with car- 
 buncles of purplish hue, doubtless attributable to the 
 cause above named — that, in fact, her whole figure was 
 gigantic, and calculated to remind one more of an over- 
 grown porpoise than aught else. 
 
 Such was the strange-looking and conspicuous female 
 who, upon seeing Edgworth Bess sitting dejectedly upon 
 the doorstep, paused before her. 
 
 At first she did no more than gaze at her with her 
 humid eyes, but presently, appearing satisfied with what 
 fihe saw, she drew closer to her, and then, for the first 
 time, discovered that she was in a swoon. 
 
 In rather a rough manner the conspicuous female raised 
 
 the poor girl's head, and then/removing her hands, looked 
 earnestly into her countenance. 
 
 A guttural sound, very much liko a grunt of appro- 
 bation, came from the woman's lips, and she looked 
 anxiously around her to discover whether she had been 
 observed. 
 
 But the street was quite deserted, and not a single 
 human being was in sight. 
 
 Upon this she uttered another grunt, but whether this 
 was of satisfaction at finding the street empty, or whether 
 it was rn consequence of the exertion she was compelled 
 to make in order to once more bring herself to an erect 
 posture, we know not. 
 
 At any rate, she left Edgworth Bess just as she had 
 found her; and, with more speed than anyone would have 
 deemed her capable of making, she waddled to the 
 corner of the next street, and then beckoned violently 
 with her hand to the driver of a hackney coach. 
 
 In obedience to the summons of the conspicuous female, 
 the crazy vehicle was set in motion. 
 
 In the meantime the woman made her way back to 
 where she had left Edgworth Bess. 
 
 When she arrived she was rather distressed with the 
 exertion she had made, and puffed and Slowed im- 
 mensely. 
 
 However, opening a little fancy bag which she carried 
 on her arm, she took out a small bottle containing some 
 pungent volatile essence. 
 
 Bemoving the stopper, she held it close to the face of 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The effect was immediate. 
 
 The poor girl revived, and looked about her. 
 
 But her mind wandered, and she was not aware of 
 where she was or what was happening around her. 
 
 By this time the hackney coach had arrived. 
 
 It was stopped just opposite to the doorstep. 
 
 The jarvey descended from his box, and opened tho 
 door. 
 
 At the request of the conspicuous female, he assisted 
 her to place the almost lifeless girl in the coach. 
 
 Edgworth Bess sank back upon the seat as motionless 
 and as ghastly as a corpse. 
 
 When this was done, the conspicuous female wiped her 
 face with a blue silk pocket-handkerchief, and then re- 
 galed her nose with a pinch of snuff. 
 
 " Where to, mum ? " asked the driver, who fancied he 
 had got a good fare. 
 
 The conspicuous female settled herself in the coach 
 before she deigned to reply. 
 
 Then, in a pompous, pursy sort of voice, she said— 
 
 " No. 74, Spring Gardens." 
 
 The driver mounted his seat with a disappointed air. 
 
 Spring Gardens was close at hand — so close, that it was 
 hardly worth while to make a journey there; and the 
 probability is that had Edgworth Bess been at all able to 
 walk the coach would never have been called. 
 
 The driver would have all his trouble for nothing, 
 though, from the peculiar character of the whole trans- 
 action, he fancied he should be able to extort a tolerable 
 amount. 
 
 The pace of the clumsy vehicle was not very rapid, but 
 still it took but a few minutes for him to reach his desti- 
 nation. 
 
 He pulled up before the door of a rather handsome- 
 looking house. 
 
 It had a noble front, with a magnificent door, wide 
 enough to have driven a carriage through. 
 
 The appearance of No. 74 revived the driver's hopes, 
 and he jumped down with more than usual alacrity and 
 opened the door. 
 
 The conspicuous female alighted, and he officiously 
 assisted to lift out Edgworth Bess, and to knock at the 
 front door, which was opened by a domestic, into whose 
 charge the unfortunate girl was immediately given. 
 
 She then placed in the hands of the driver a five-shil- 
 ling piece. 
 
 As this was only about six times the amount of his 
 proper fare, he flung the coin on tho ground, executed a 
 contemptuous dance upon it, and poured forth a volley of 
 abuse, of which the conspicuous female took not th« 
 slightest notice.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 &03 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXVIII. 
 
 IN WHICH EDGWORTH BESS DISCOVERS THAT A GREAT 
 CHANGE HAS TAKEN PLACE IN HER FORTUNES AND 
 PROSPECTS. 
 
 Into what kind ®f hands had the poor helpless girl now 
 fallen ? j> 
 
 Were they good or bad ? 
 
 Alas ! when we reflect how rare a thing disinterested 
 kindness is, and how seldom it is met with in London, 
 we dread almost to ask the question, and shudder to 
 reply. 
 
 We must leave time to answer the question. 
 At present we can do no more than describe all tlvit 
 took place. 
 
 The conspicuous female, having settled with the cab- 
 man, entered the house — or rather mansion, for its ap- 
 pearance was such as to deserve that appellatinu — with 
 the air and manner of one who was mistress of it. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, still looking more like a dead body 
 than a human being, had been deposited in the huge 
 porter's chair. 
 
 At a word from her she was lifted from her seat, and 
 carried up the broad flight of stairs which ascended from 
 the hall, and placed in a luxuriously-furnished bedroom 
 on the second floor. 
 
 The conspicuous female then summoned several female 
 attendants, to whom she issued her instructions. 
 
 They appeared to obey her with reluctance, and yet it 
 was as evident that they did not dare to refuse or even 
 hesitate. 
 
 The manners of the extraordinary-looking female were 
 very masculine and authoritative. 
 
 She uttered her commands in a loud voice, which 
 sounded almost like the blast of a trumpet. 
 
 She exhibited not the least kindness towards these at- 
 tendants. 
 
 On the contrary, she treated them just as an American 
 overseer would a drove of slaves. 
 
 By her directions, which she stood by and saw executed, 
 Edgworth Bess was undressed and placed in bed, when 
 means were adopted to restore her to her senses. 
 
 Whether she had had experience ia matters of this 
 aort we will not say, but the conspicuous female was not 
 long in doing this. 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked about her with a vacant stare. 
 Although she had been recovered from her swoon, her 
 brain was in the utmost disorder. 
 
 This mental aberration was, doubtless, produced by 
 want of food. 
 
 Perceiving the delirium with which she was seized, the 
 conspicuous female was not long in coming to a correct 
 conclusion as to the cause of it. 
 
 Some light food in a liquid form was prepared, and this 
 the poor girl mechanically swallowed when it was held 
 to her lips. 
 
 She was too much exhausted to make the least resist- 
 ance, or evjn to sleep. 
 
 At length, when everything had been done calculated 
 to procure her restoration to health and strength, she fell 
 off into a deep sleep. 
 
 Upon this, the conspicuous female and her attendants 
 withdrew, iu order to allow her to remain undisturbed. 
 
 What was the motive which prompted her to take such 
 extraordinary pains with a young girl found in the street, 
 as Edgworth Bess had been, will soon become apparent. 
 This sleep continued for very many hours. 
 The food which had been given her, though small iu 
 quantity and easy of digestion, possessed a remarkable 
 amount of nourishment, and when, at length, Edgworth 
 Bess awoke, she felt well and comparatively strong. 
 
 The fever of her mind had abated, and when she opened 
 her eyes she was in possession of her usual faculties. 
 
 What she saw, however, was quite sufficient to bewilder 
 her. 
 
 As she gazed, one after another, upon the various 
 articles of luxury the room contained, her astonishment 
 knew no bounds, and she closed her eyes, fancying she was 
 dreaming. 
 
 She then found herself endeavouring to recollect what 
 had last happened to her. 
 
 For a long time her memory baffled her, but at length 
 she remembered, with a sob of anguish, her hasty parting 
 with Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Prom that point recollection rushed rapidly upon her, 
 until she had sunk exhausted on the doorstep. 
 
 From that moment to the present was a blank, and she 
 opened her eyes again, half expecting to still tind herself 
 seated there. 
 
 But she was deceived. 
 
 The self-same objects met her view. 
 
 She was puzzled and confused, and unable to think how 
 she had reached her present situation. 
 
 All was vague conjecture. 
 
 At length she was driven to the conclusion that some- 
 one had found her while in her exhausted and senseless 
 state, and actuated by motives of compassion for her suf- 
 ferings had caused her to be brought thither. 
 
 When once this idea was started, she discovered 
 numerous circumstances, all tending to confirm it. 
 
 She was undressed, and she no longer felt the cravings 
 of hunger — therefore her wants had been attended to. 
 
 Involuntarily she poured out her thanks to her un- 
 known benefactor, though there was no one by to listen 
 to her words. 
 
 Then she strove to rise, but found herself reduced to 
 such a state of weakness as made it absolutely impos- 
 sible. 
 
 Then she once more occupied herself with her thoughts. 
 
 They were pleasant ones. 
 
 She believed she had found friends, who would assist 
 her in her multitudinous difficulties. 
 
 In her innocence and simplicity of heart, she judged of 
 the actions of others by herself. 
 
 Had she been in the position in which the owner of the 
 room in which she lay evidently was, and she had seen a 
 poor girl upon a doorstep dying with hunger and fatigue, 
 she would not have hesitated a moment to do as she 
 believed she had been done by. 
 
 It seemed to her perfectly natural and right, but those 
 who knew the world would feel sure that all this had not 
 been done without some ulterior object. 
 
 But such a thought as this never for one moment 
 entered the pure mind of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 For a long time, then, she lay thus, iudulging in her 
 pleasant felicitations without anyone appearing to disturb 
 her. 
 
 She tried to sleep again, but the novelty of her position 
 would not permit her to do so. 
 
 She would not have felt quite so secure as she did, per- 
 haps, if she had known that the door of the room in 
 which she lay was locked. 
 
 In her present state, perhaps, it was well that she did 
 not make the discovery. 
 
 Some time elapsed, and then, weary with thought, she 
 must have dropped off into a kind of half-doze, from which 
 she was aroused by hearing a slight sound, though what 
 it was she could not exactly say. 
 
 It w.i -, however, the click of the lock as the door was 
 unfastened. 
 
 The conspicuous female entered, and carefully closed it 
 after her. 
 
 She had removed her hat and shawl, but in lieu of the 
 former she wore upon her head a turban, which gave her 
 a very fierce aud Mahomedan-like appearance. 
 
 It was composed of some bright scarlet material, and 
 was adorned with some very remarkable-looking feathers. 
 
 Her face had not abated in redness, but ita tint w&a 
 rather subdued by the semi-darkness which prevailed in 
 the chamber; for the thick blinds and curtains before the 
 windows had been closely drawn. 
 
 A kind of twilight softened all things, and gave them a 
 riehnes which iu the bright glare of day 
 
 thev would not have possessed in so gfreat a degree. 
 
 The fiery rubicundity of the conspicuous female's coun- 
 tenance, and the gorgeousness of her apparel, did not 
 therefore Btrike the beholder so much as when shews 
 abroad. ' 
 
 The room shook beneath her ponderous tread as she 
 made her way to the bedside of the poor girl. 
 
 Edgworth Hess looked up as she heard cbing 
 
 stup, wondering and curious whether it was that of her 
 
 U Gil G 1 iictoi* • 
 
 By making a great effort, she raised her head a few 
 inches from her pillow. . 
 
 It was at this moment that the conspicnoua temaJe 
 reached the bedside. - ' . . 
 
 Bess looked at her eagerly, and then suffered her head
 
 BLTJESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 to fall back upon the pillow with an air of disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 The countenance she now saw so close to her own by no 
 means corresponded with the one which she had 
 imagined. , . . 
 
 Moreover, a sickening and disgusting odour ot spirits 
 assailed her nostrils as soon as the female approached her. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, however, rallied herself, and called in 
 her good sense to her aid, and overcame as well as she 
 could the repugnance which at first she could not help 
 
 fCGliuff- 
 
 She had been treated with kindness, and if the person 
 who had befriended her was not favoured with a hand- 
 some and prepossessing countenance, it was no fault of 
 her own. 
 
 Besides, the person who now stood beside her might 
 not be the individual who had succoured her ; but, per- 
 haps, a nurse who had been appointed to attend upon her. 
 
 Revived by this conjecture, Edgworth Bess looked with 
 a more satisfied expression into the woman's fiery coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 Just as she did so the woman spoke. 
 
 Her wheezy, thick accents made a disagreeable impres- 
 sion upon the poor girl's hearing. 
 
 In a tone which the conspicuous female intended should 
 be eminently soothing and affectionate, she said — 
 
 " Well, my dear, and how do you find yourself by now? " 
 
 If Edgworth Bess had disliked the tones of her voice, 
 she liked the manner in which she was addressed still less ; 
 but, as she considered she was not in a position to be so 
 fastidious, she replied— though her voice was only a little 
 louder than a whisper — 
 
 " I am better, much better, thanks to your kindness 
 and attention." 
 
 " That's a good job," said the conspicuous female, with 
 one of those grunts of satisfaction to which we have 
 already reverted. 
 
 Edgworth Bess felt her antipathy rapidly increase- 
 indeed, abhorrence is a word which would better express 
 the nature of her feelings. 
 
 " Surely," she thought, " it is impossible that this can 
 he the person to whom I am so indebted ! " 
 
 She resolved to no longer have any doubts about the 
 matter. 
 
 " Tell me," she said, " to whom I am indebted for this 
 kindness. Let me know who it is, in order that I can 
 pour forth my best thanks. I recollect all. Weary with 
 fatigue, and famishing for want of food, I sank senseless 
 upon a doorstep. There I must have been found by 
 someone, but by whom I know not, and brought to this 
 place, where I have had all my wants attended to. 
 Believe me, I am deeply grateful — my heart overflows 
 with gratitude ; tell me, then, I implore you, who is my 
 benefactor ? Let whoever it may be, be brought to my 
 bedside, and I will thank them with all the eloquence 
 and fervency I possess." 
 
 " Very purty," said the conspicuous female, with 
 another grunt, and with particular emphasis, "very 
 purty, indeed ! " 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXIX. 
 
 THE I>RESENT GOOD FORTUNE OF THE PERSECUTED 
 HEIRESS THREATENS TO RE OF SHORT DURATION. 
 
 There was something so extraordinary in this reply, that 
 Edgworth Bess could not help her countenance express- 
 ing all the surprise which she felt. 
 
 There was something in this woman's appearance, 
 manner, and speech, so utterly incongruous with the 
 luxuriously and tastefully furnished bedchamber in which 
 she stood, that had the same effect upon our heroine as 
 a sudden discord in beautiful harmony would have upon a 
 lover of music. 
 
 More than ever was she convinced that the being before 
 her could not have been the one who had so generously 
 snatched her from a dreadful death. 
 
 " It must be the nurse," she murmured, in so low a 
 tone as to be inaudible to anyone but herself. " It must 
 be the nurse who has been appointed to attend to me in my 
 sickness." 
 
 As the poor deluded girl came to this erroneous con- 
 clusion her heart once more overflowed with gratitude at 
 the kindness of her unknown benefactor. 
 
 Much did she wonder who she could be. 
 
 The owner of the house in which this beautiful bed- 
 chamber was situated, beyond all doubt. 
 
 That the being who stood at her bedside could be the 
 owner seemed improbable in the extreme. 
 
 And yet what could be the meaning of her strange be- 
 haviour ? 
 
 What could be the meaning of her strangely-uttered 
 and viciously pronounced words when Edgworth Bess, in 
 the sweet accents of her touching voice, implored her to say 
 to whom she was indebted for her present good fortune ? 
 This question was the most puzzling of all, and Edg- 
 worth Bess found herself quite unable to reply to it. 
 
 She could not reconcile her idea of this person being the 
 nurse, when she thought of the words she had spoken. 
 
 So far from being any reply to her anxious queries, or 
 indicative of a knowledge of who her benefactor was, they 
 seemed merely expressive of approbation. 
 But of what ? 
 
 Edgworth Bess could not tell. 
 
 The words she spoke seemed to have no sort of con- 
 nexion with what she had just said. 
 
 Then there was the expression which appeared upon 
 the conspicuous female's countenance. 
 
 She looked as though she was highly pleased or satis- 
 fied with something. 
 
 She nodded her head, too, in an approving manner. 
 Edgworth Bess placed her hands upon her temples, and 
 strove to think clearly. 
 
 This, however, the more she strove, seemed to become 
 more and more impossible. 
 
 Her body was weak, and her brain was suffering too 
 much from previous agitation for her to be capable of 
 much reflection. 
 
 Suddenly she felt all her ideas ran into the utmost dis- 
 order. 
 
 Strange visions flitted before her, and then, uttering a 
 long-drawn sigh, she fainted. 
 
 How long she remained in this state of unconsciousness 
 she never knew. 
 
 When she recovered herself, however, she found the 
 conspicuous female — for so, until we have some better 
 appellation, we must continue to designate her — still bend- 
 ing over her bed. 
 
 From this she conjectured her swoon must have been of 
 brief duration ; and this was really the case, for, no 
 sooner did the conspicuous female perceive what had 
 happened, than she thrust her hand into her pocket, and, 
 after some rummaging in that capacious receptacle, pro- 
 duced a small vial of pungent essence. 
 This she held to the poor girl's nostrils. 
 The effect was almost instantaneous. 
 Edgworth Bess opened her eyes. 
 
 Perceiving she had recovered, the conspicuous female 
 waddled across the room to an elegant side-table, upon 
 which several bottles and glasses were placed. 
 
 Selecting a small vial, she poured a portion of its con- 
 tents into a goblet, which she then filled with water from 
 an exquisitely-cut carafe. 
 
 This draught she held to the lips of Edgworth Bess, 
 who swallowed it mechanically, without knowing what it 
 was or being aware of the purpose for which it was ad- 
 ministered, 
 
 It was a soothing draught, and a few minutes after 
 having drank it the poor girl unconsciously fell into a deep 
 and calm sleep. 
 
 No doubt this would be the means of doing her a very 
 great deal of good. 
 
 It would allay the fever which held possession, not only 
 of her body, but her mind. 
 
 As she lay thus asleep, the eyes of the conspicuous 
 female seemed to gloat over her features and such portions 
 of her person as the bedclothes left visible. 
 
 The satisfactory expression her countenance had worn 
 deepened, and she chuckled in her throat. 
 Who could this mysterious female be ? 
 What could be her motive for taking all this trouble ? 
 No one, to look in her countenance, would imagine for 
 a moment that it had been taken purely and disinte- 
 restedly. 
 
 And yet persons must not always be judged by appear- 
 ances. 
 Time, however, will explain all. 
 
 At present we cannot help feeling apprehensive to a 
 degree, and we are almost inclined to say that it would
 
 BLtTESKlN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 THE STRUGGLE ON THE STAIRS, 
 
 have been better for her if she had been left alone upon 
 the door-step upon which she had sunk. 
 
 When the conspicuous female had assured herself that 
 the sleeping-draught had exercised its proper effect, she 
 crept away from the bedside as quickly as she was able. 
 
 The slumber she knew, from the quantity administered, 
 would last some hours. 
 
 For the present, then, all would be well. 
 
 Opening the door, she passed through it, taking care, 
 however, to close it after her carefully, and to lock it 
 securely. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was a prisoner, although the chamber 
 little resembled a prison. 
 
 Unconscious, however, of this disagreeable fact, the 
 young girl slept on quietly and dreamlessly. 
 
 When she awoke it was night. 
 
 But the apartment wac not in darkness. 
 
 At the foot of the bed was a magnificent dressing-table, 
 Stted with a looking-glass of such dimensions as would 
 tftbibit the whole figure of a person reflected in it 
 
 On either side of this glass was tn ornamental brack**, 
 competed of Parian marble, and fixed against the wall. 
 
 Upon these were placed two elegantly sculptured figure*, 
 representing vestal virgins. 
 
 Each held in her hand a lamp, from which proceeded 
 the soft, mellow lustre that filled the chamber. 
 
 The glass globes protecting the lights were tinted a 
 bright crimson colour, and this had the effect of imparting 
 to the lustre a rosy hue. 
 
 By the aid of these two lamps, the various luxurious 
 articles the room contained were rendered visible. 
 
 It imparted to them an appearance of exceeding richness. 
 
 Never in the whole course of her existence had the 
 poor heiress beheld anything so beautiful j %sA, as she 
 lay there, with her intellects still in some feowfusion, she 
 wondered to herself whether all which she then saw, or 
 fancied she saw, was not the creation of a distempered 
 brain. a 
 
 As her mind grew calmer, however, she became con- 
 vinced of the reality of what she saw before her, and with 
 
 ffo. 64.
 
 great pain and difficulty recalled to her recollection all the 
 occurrences of the past. 
 
 There were blanks here and there which she found 
 herself incompetent to fill up, but eventually she came to 
 a tolerably clear notion of her position. 
 
 She still clung to her original idea. 
 
 She recollected sinking down upon the door-step, and 
 then, on returning to her senses, finding herself where she 
 now was. 
 
 Some kind lady had, she felt sure, taken compassion 
 upon her ; and once more she felt her heart overflowing 
 with gratitude. 
 
 She found, however, that thinking made her head ache 
 terribly, and she determined for the present to postpone 
 iier reflections. 
 
 She next attempted to rise, but found herseli in such a 
 state of weakness that she could not so much as lift her 
 head from the pillows. 
 
 After this, unconsciousness again came over her. 
 
 Upon awakening, she found it was daylight. 
 
 During her slumber the chamber had been entered, for 
 the lamps, which she recollected seeing alight, were now 
 extinguished. 
 
 The full glare of day was not allowed to enter through 
 the casements. 
 
 They were darkened with thick curtains, so that in the 
 room only a kind of misty twilight prevailed. 
 
 Looking round, Edgworth Bess was startled to perceive 
 standing by the bedside the same strange-looking female 
 she had before seen, and who. she had made up her 
 mind, had been appointed to attend to her wants. 
 
 As her eye rested upon this woman's countenance, how- 
 ever, she felt an invincible feeling of repugnance spring 
 up in her breast, and with a faint shudder of loathing she 
 strove to shrink as far away from her as possible. 
 
 Her supposition that this woman was a nurse was 
 destined to have some doubts cast upon it. 
 
 Finding Edgworth Bess to be awake, the conspicuous 
 female, in a shrill tone of voice, cried : 
 
 " Jane, Jane, where are you ? Come here this minute ! 
 Confound you all, is it any good for me to speak, I wonder ? " 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked round in astonishment; she 
 could not, for the life of her, think what was meant. 
 
 The mystery was soon cleared up. 
 
 A pretty-looking girl, about eighteen years of age, 
 entered the room in obedience to this call. 
 
 She carried in her hands a tray, upon which was 
 spread a light repast. 
 
 This she placed upon the bed, and Edgworth Bess 
 immediately comprehended that it was for her the meal 
 was intended. 
 
 She felt low and faint for want ol sustenance. 
 
 Still, she wis unable to raise herself to partake of the 
 tempting but light viands spread before her. 
 
 The young girl Jane, however, raised her carefully, 
 and propped her up with pillows. 
 
 With difficulty, then, Edgworth Bess took that refresh- 
 ment so necessary to her vitality. 
 
 She addressed several questions to Jane and to the 
 conspicuous female, but she received only evasive and 
 ambiguous replies. 
 
 Upon the countenance of the former she could not help 
 noticing that a sad and pained expression appeared when- 
 ever their eyes met. 
 
 What could be the reason of this, Edgworth Bess could 
 not imagine, and the rebuffs she had previously received 
 discouraged her from making an inquiry respecting it. 
 
 When the meal was ended, the poor heiress felt much 
 stronger and better ; indeed, there was nothing ailed her 
 but the weakness occasioned by want of food. 
 
 Turning now to the conspicuous female, she entreated 
 her to give her some information ; but she was refused in a 
 peremptory manner, and she was somewhat harshly bidden 
 to lie down and compose herself to sleep, as she was not 
 yet well enough to enter into an excited conversation. 
 
 With a sigh, Edgworth Bess obeyed, ard th« conspi- 
 cuous female and her attendant departed froiv,the chamber. 
 
 It was only natural that Eclgworth Bess should almost 
 immediately sink into a profound slumber. 
 
 That was the course which Nature took to recuperate 
 her strength. 
 
 Once more it is night in the mysterious house in 
 Spring Gardens. 
 
 Once more the elegant lamps on each side of the dress- 
 ing-glass in that luxurious chamber diffuse their rosy, 
 mellow light around. 
 
 But this time Edgworth Bess is not awake. 
 
 Her deep slumber has continued for many hours, and 
 still shows no signs of ceasing. 
 
 Her light and regular breathing is the only sound 
 which bas broken the deep silence of the room for a long 
 time. 
 
 But, hark ! 
 
 Another sound now strikes upon the universal stillness. 
 
 It is a sharp sound, which ceases almost in a moment. 
 
 It is the snap of a lock, as the bolt flies back into the 
 matrix. 
 
 The door opens. 
 
 The conspicuous female enters. 
 
 Her step is heavy, but upon the thick, soft carpet of 
 that bedchamber is inaudible. 
 
 Stealthily she approaches the bedside, and an expression 
 of satisfaction steals over her fiery countenance when she 
 finds that Edgworth Bess is still sleeping. 
 
 Stepping back a pace from the bedside, she placed one 
 finger on her lip, as though to enjoin silence, and with 
 the other hand she beckoned someone who appeared to be 
 standing on the threshold. 
 
 In obedience to this summons, a young man entered on 
 tiptoe. 
 
 His dress was rich, and such as at that period was worn 
 by the highest nobles in the land. 
 
 The rosy lamplight fell with rich effect upon it, and 
 imparted great magnificence to the jewels which sparkled 
 on the hilt of his dress-sword and upon various parts of 
 his person. 
 
 " Hush !" whispered the conspicuous female, in a 
 faint whisper, as he approached. " Hush !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXX. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD MAKE A DESPERATE 
 ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE FROM JONATHAN WTLD. 
 
 Truly did despair take possession of the heart both of 
 Jack Sheppard and Blueskin, when, almost exhausted by 
 the exertions they had made, they turned down the alley, 
 in the hope that it would enable them to escape, and then 
 found that it had no outlet. 
 
 Jack made this discovery before the yelling tones of 
 Jonathan's hideous voice reached his ears and informed 
 him of it. 
 
 What to do now he knew not, for he could see no 
 chance of ultimate escape. 
 
 The only course open to them for adoption was to 
 enter one of the houses, and Jack comprehended in an 
 instant all the peril which would accrue to them if they did 
 this. 
 
 But there was no choice left to them, and let what 
 would be done, their position could not be worse than 
 it would be if they remained in the alley. 
 
 Nor was there any time for deliberation. 
 
 Another second, and the thief-taker and his janizariea 
 would fill the place. 
 
 With the instinct of despair, then, Jack Sheppard 
 turned round, and grasping the hand of Blueskin, led his 
 exhausted friend across the alley in the direction of the 
 nearest doorway. 
 
 It was situated in a corner, and plunged in profound 
 darkness. 
 
 This was all the better for them, since it decreas»d 
 the probability of their being seen. 
 
 Two ruinous and broken steps led up to this door. 
 
 Hastily Jack ascended them. 
 
 His companion followed him with difficulty. 
 
 Jack pressed against the door. 
 
 To his surprise, no less than his gratification, it yielded. 
 
 It had been left ajar by someone. 
 
 Ominously it creaked as it swung back on its hinges. 
 
 Jack darted into the house, dragging Blueskin after him. 
 
 To close the door, turn the key in the lock, and shoot 
 two bolts into their sockets, took little more than a 
 moment. 
 
 They now ventured to give a sigh of relief, though 
 their danger was only slightly diminished. 
 
 They endeavoured to look around them, but could not. 
 
 The whole place was buried in the most profound
 
 blueskin: a BOMANCK 
 
 507 
 
 dai'kness, and from nowhere came the faintest scintillation 
 of a light. 
 
 They groped onward for a few paces, until they came 
 in contact with some obstacle which prevented their 
 further progress. 
 
 A rapid examination of it by means of his hand con- 
 rinced Jack that it was the balustrade of a staircase. 
 
 lie communicated this discovery to Blueskin in a 
 whisper, and they agreed to ascend these stairs, wherever 
 they might lead, and trust to good luck and the chapter 
 of accidents to befriend them. 
 
 The stairs were steep, and creaked at every step they 
 took. 
 
 They made but slow progress. 
 
 Not only was the intense darkness confusing, but Blue- 
 skin could only ascend with great difficulty. 
 
 At length they reached the landing upon the first floor. 
 
 Here there was a very faint-light visible, which came 
 from a window opposite to the head of the staircase. 
 
 Through this the faint night light came, causing the 
 different objects around to be dimly visible. 
 
 With two bounds Jack reached this window. 
 
 As he expected, from its position, it commanded a view 
 of the alley. 
 
 Looking down, he saw that it was crowded with people. 
 
 He was able to see their upturned countenances plainly 
 enough, for at almost all the other windows people with 
 lights were looking out to ascertain the cause of the dis- 
 turbance. 
 
 It was the reflection of these lights which enabled Jack 
 to see what was going forward. 
 
 That which met his gaze so much surprised him, that he 
 stood as if spell-bound, and unable to stir hand or foot. . 
 
 Blueskin, too, who had reached his side, experienced 
 the same sensations in an almost equal degree. 
 
 They saw Jonathan Wild force his way through the 
 dense throng. 
 
 They saw him raised in the air above those surround- 
 ing him by two of his janizaries. 
 
 Then they heard his voice, which was so loud that no 
 one in the neighbourhood could avoid hearing it. 
 
 His words struck terror to their hearts, and what little 
 hope they had of making their escape was now de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 The offer of one hundred pounds for each person to 
 search the house in which they lived would, Jack felt cer- 
 tain, set the whole of the inhabitants on the alert. 
 
 Discovery seemed inevitable ; and doubtless the num- 
 ber of people in each house would be so great that they 
 would not be able to get clear of them before Jonathan 
 arrived. 
 
 To meet danger half-way, however, was never a failing 
 of Jack's. 
 
 There was now the most pressing necessity for imme- 
 diate action. 
 
 " Come !" he said to Blueskin, speaking in a low voice, 
 and yet as cheerfully as he could. " Come, friend, we must 
 make one bold effort for freedom, or we are lost indeed !" 
 
 " I am afraid we are lost already !" 
 
 w Nay, do not despair ! We are not captured yet !" 
 
 " But what hope have we of escape ?" 
 
 " Not much, I confess, though I don't think wo ought 
 to give up on that account, but tiy what can best be done ! 
 Follow me ! Perhaps even now all may be well !" 
 
 " I am very weak, Jack," rejoined Blueskin. " My head 
 swims round and round! The exertion I bave already 
 been compelled to make is too much for me, and I feel 
 completely overpowered !" 
 
 " Nay, nay ! Do not speak in so desponding a tone of 
 voice ! Sunmion to your aid all the energy and strength 
 you possibly can ! We must make one last effort !" 
 
 While this little conversation had taken plnce, the two 
 friends had not remained standing idly by the window, 
 but had recrossed the landing in the direction ot the stairs 
 which led to the upper portion of the house. 
 
 These they ascended, Jack lending Blueskin all -the 
 assistance he possibly could. 
 
 As they went higher the staircase became lightei, and 
 this enabled them to make better speed. 
 
 Within the house all was still for a moment or so alter 
 Wild had concluded his extraordinary speech, and then 
 our friends heard people moving about in all directions. 
 • Doors were opened and closed, and lights gleamed upon 
 the walls. 
 
 But Jack and Blueskin continued their upward course, 
 hope reviving in their hearts at every step they took. 
 
 The top of the second flight was almost reached, when 
 a man sprang with great suddenness across the landing and 
 rushed down upon them. 
 
 This man was of fierce and ruffianly aspect, and appeared 
 to be the possessor of enormous strength. 
 
 Instinctively the man seemed to know that Blueskin was 
 the weaker of the two, and that if he detained him tho 
 other would not leave. 
 
 Accordingly he grasped Blueskin tightly, and then set up 
 such a succession of shouts as must have reached over 
 the whole neighbourhood. 
 
 Blueskin felt himself utterly incapable of coping with 
 this man. 
 
 With a sigh he gave himself up for lost. 
 
 He did not even attempt to grapple with his foe, but 
 merely clutched the balustrades, with all his remaining 
 strength, to save himself from being thrown down. 
 
 In vain the man strove to force him from his hold. 
 
 Blueskin clung to the woodwork with the energy of 
 despair. 
 
 In the meantime, Jack was not slow in coming to the 
 assistance of his comrade. 
 
 The first shock of surprise over, he seized the man, and, 
 urged on by the desperate nature of their position, struggled 
 with him. 
 
 He was by far Jack's superior in strength, and, doubtless 
 under ordinary circumstances, Jack would not have stood 
 the faintest chance of obtaining the victory. 
 
 But now the case was different. 
 
 Almost, maddened by this interruption, which threatened 
 to be fatal, Jack felt himself endowed with thrice his 
 ordinary strength. 
 
 The man found him a formidable assailant, but, never- 
 theless, he did not loose his hold upon Blueskin, whom ho 
 determined to grasp until assistance arrived, which he was 
 convinced would be but a moment or two at most. 
 
 Jack was desperate. 
 
 He struggled with the utmost fury. 
 
 Blueskin, with much trouble, retained his hold upon 
 the balustrades. 
 
 These were old and frail, and swung backwards and 
 forwards, threatening every moment to give way and pre- 
 cipitate all three to the floor beneath. 
 
 And now footsteps could be heard ascending. 
 
 They were many in number, and a confused murmur of 
 voices mingled with the sound. 
 
 Above them all, rose one whose tones were most dis- 
 tasteful to Jack's ears. 
 
 This was the voice of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Inspired by the hope not only of recapturing his es- 
 caped prisoner, but Jack Sheppard as well, the thief-taker 
 sprang up the stairs two at a time ; and such was the ex- 
 traordinary speed he made, that he quickly left the rest 
 far behind, although they mounted with great rapidity. 
 
 But none of them possessed such a powerful stimulant 
 for action as Wild did. 
 
 Up he came, uttering fierce cries of mingled rage and 
 triumph, each one of which increased the desperation of 
 Jack's former conduct to frenzy. 
 
 The form of the dreaded thief-taker came in sight. 
 
 Jack saw him. 
 
 A horrible expression was upon his countenance. 
 
 In three seconds more, the men by whom he was fol- 
 lowed would be in sight. 
 
 Loudly he called out to the man to retain his hold a mo- 
 ment longer. 
 
 The hope of receiving the hundred pounds he thought 
 would enable him to do so. 
 
 But he did not calculate the effect which this imme- 
 diate prospect of capture would have upon Jack Sheppard. 
 
 In a moment he seemed to receive the strength of a 
 dozen men. 
 
 With one terrific wrench he caused the man to release 
 his hold upon Blueskin, who nevertheless was so exhausted 
 that he continued to cling to the balustrades. 
 
 With the same preternatural degree of streDgth Jack 
 continued the struggle. 
 
 The man found himself being forced gradually back- 
 wards. 
 
 Suddenly Jack released his hold. 
 
 His adversary was surprised at this action. 
 
 Before he could recover himself, however, Jack struck 1
 
 508 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE 
 
 him two violent blows, "which succeeded each other so 
 quickly that there was no perceptible interval between 
 them. 
 
 The man staggered from their effects, so violently and 
 forcibly were they delivered. 
 
 But by this time the thief-taker had only about half a 
 dozen steps to ascend before he should be upon them. 
 
 Now was the critical moment. 
 
 How he did it Jack could never afterwards exactly tell ; 
 but, as the man staggered from the two blows and slightly 
 relaxed his grasp, Jack again seized him, and with one 
 tremendous effort hurled him down the staircase. 
 
 He would have inevitably followed his foe — for he felt 
 himself lose his balance — had not Blueskin, who saw the 
 danger, suddenly stretched forth his hand and caught him 
 by his coat. f£ 
 
 That enabled him to recover himself. 
 
 The man, however, who rolled headlong backwards 
 down the staircase with terrific velocity, as a matter of 
 course, came in contact with the thief -taker as he was 
 ascending. 
 
 So rapidly had all this taken place that Wild did not 
 perceive his danger until it was too late for him to step 
 aside and avoid it. 
 
 Crash came the body of the falling man against him. 
 
 Instantly he lost his footing, and felt himself impelled 
 with fearful force down the staircase. 
 
 Not far below him was his son, and just behind his son 
 a crowd of people. 
 
 Like a cannon-ball he dashed upon them, and a scene of 
 the most indescribable confusion ensued. 
 
 This was the moment for Jack and Blueskin to achieve 
 their escape. 
 
 If they failed to do this before the thief-taker and his 
 crew recovered, it would be all over with them. 
 
 Blueskin saw this at a glance. 
 
 Jack spoke to him encouragingly, and then, animated by 
 the hope of yet effecting their escape, they bounded up 
 the next flight of stairs, which communicated with the 
 attics. 
 
 Here they doubted not they should readily enough gain 
 access to the roofs. 
 
 The only question was, would Blueskin be able to sup- 
 port so much exertion ? 
 
 This must be tried. 
 
 Without waiting to see the residts of the fall of the 
 thief-taker among his men, both darted up the stairs. 
 
 It was probable that above they would meet with fresh 
 enemies, but this apprehension was groundless. 
 
 A moment's reflection told Jack that had anyone been 
 above they would long ere this have made themselves 
 visible and come to the aid of the man who had been so 
 signally defeated. 
 
 At length the attics were reached. 
 
 The two fugitives saw a partially-open door before 
 them, and, perfectly indifferent as to where it led, they 
 darted through and rapidly closed it after them. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXL 
 
 JACK SHEPPAED TAKES A LEAP OVER THE HOUSETOPS, 
 TO THE IMMINENT PERIL OF HIS LIFE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard's first impulse upon entering this room 
 was to run his hand rapidly over the door to find what 
 fastenings were upon it. 
 
 He did this before he even glanced around him to ascer- 
 tain what kind of place he was in. 
 
 His hand first encountered one of those rude drop 
 latches which are even now to be found in old houses, 
 but which at the period of which we are writing wers 
 almost the only kind in use. 
 
 Thfre was no means of fastening this, so Jack raised 
 his hand to the upper portion of the door, and was well 
 pleased to encounter a bolt. 
 
 This he immediately shot into its socket. 
 
 Stooping down, he found another bolt a foot or so from 
 the floor, which he treated in the same manner. 
 
 All this occupied such a short time as to be almost im- 
 perceptible. 
 
 The closing of the door and the shooting of the bolts 
 seemed to occur simultaneously. 
 
 As he turned round- after doing this, the faint notes 
 cf a child's voice struck upon Jack's ear. 
 
 The interior of this room or attic, for such it really 
 was, was plunged in darkness ; but to Jack's eyes, accus- 
 tomed as they were to the gloom, it quickly resolved itself 
 into a kind of twilight. 
 
 He saw his companion Blueskin leaning, faint and 
 exhausted, against the wall. 
 
 He had not recovered from the attack which had beeD 
 made upon him while on the stairs. 
 
 The crying of a child again attracted Jack's notice, and 
 he found the sound proceeded from one comer of the 
 chamber, where he could just distinguish the faint out- 
 lines of a bed. 
 
 Before them was a small window, and through this 
 the night sky was visible. 
 
 Jack caught his companion by the arm. 
 
 "Come, Blueskin!" he said. "So far all is well. 
 Cheer up, my friend ! One more effort, and we shall 
 doubtless escape them ! Come, collect your energies for 
 this one effort! Yet stay ! I ought to have thought of 
 this before. Here is something which will doubtless serve 
 you." 
 
 As he spoke these last words, in a hurried and dis- 
 jointed fashion, Jack Sheppard plunged his hand into the 
 pocket of his coat, and drew forth a pocket-flask. 
 
 The quantity of spirit it contained was very small in- 
 deed, but still he hoped there was sufficient to reani- 
 mate) the shattered energies of his comrade. 
 
 He held it to his lips. 
 
 " Drink this," he said, " drink this. It is all I have 
 left." 
 
 Blueskin needed no second asking. 
 
 Never did anyone require such a stimulant so much as 
 he did at that moment. 
 
 But he did not drain the flask. 
 
 He drank only a small portion, and then, removing his 
 lips, said : 
 
 " I am better now, Jack. I have not drunk it all ; 
 you finish up the remainder." 
 
 Jack would have been heartily glad of a draught of 
 spirit just then, but he thought how much more his 
 wounded and exhausted companion wanted it than he 
 did, and he conquered the impulse he had at first felt 
 to lift the flask to his mouth. 
 
 "No, no, Blueskin," he said ; " I can do very well with- 
 out. Do you chink it, and get all the strength you can, 
 for we have yet much to do." 
 
 Blueskin already felt the beneficial effects of the small 
 quantity of brandy he had drunk, and he did not any 
 longer hesitate to finish the remainder. 
 
 He drained the flask in a moment, and then, returning 
 it to Jack, he said, in a surprisingly altered tone of voice : 
 
 " Quick ! If we are to escape we must lose no more 
 time, or Jonathan will quite recover from the panic into 
 which we have thrown him." 
 
 ' True ; but if that fall down the staircase don't con- 
 fuse his faculties for some time to come, it's very odd to 
 me. He won't get over it very easily or very quickly, I 
 am sure." 
 
 ' Recollect what a wonderful man he is. Hark ! Can 
 you hear them ? They have begun to ascend the stairs 
 again !" 
 
 Jack listened. 
 
 " It is so," he said ; " they come ! This door will 
 be a barrier to them, but only a slight one ; they will 
 quickly enough demolish it. Still, it will hinder them a 
 little." 
 
 ' I am much stronger, and all the better, for the short 
 rest I have had." 
 
 " That is good news ! You speak better." 
 
 " I feel better, Jack." 
 
 "Follow me to the window, then. I doubt not we 
 shall easily be able to reach the roofs, and then our 
 chanees of escape will be much increased." 
 
 As he spoke, Jack hastened across the room towards the 
 window, beneath which was a small, rickety dressing- 
 table. 
 
 He mounted upon this, and unfastened the window. 
 
 It was a small, diamond-paned casement, and ©ne half 
 of it opened outwards, like a door. 
 
 Jack looked out, and saw that, from the window-silL 
 there was a sloping piece of roof, which terminated, a 
 few feet lower down, in a gutter, which was defended 
 by a stout parapet. 
 
 This was enough.
 
 BLCESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 509 
 
 Jack slipped through the window with the agility of 
 a harlequin. 
 
 Holding himself as well as he could upon the slippery 
 tiles, he assisted Blueskin to follow him. 
 They were only just in time. 
 
 Jonathan, with the fury ot ten thousand fiends about 
 his heart, was blundering up the stairs, maddened with 
 pain, and followed by his men. 
 
 In another moment he would reach the door, to which 
 his attention would doubtless be attracted by the crying 
 of the child, which had continued without intermission, 
 and was now louder than ever. 
 
 The moment Blueskin scrambled through the window, 
 Jack closed it. 
 
 To fasten it was an impossibility, and this was a great 
 pity. Could he have fastened the window, Jonathan would 
 be in doubt as to which way they had gone. 
 
 As it was, he was compelled to leave the route taken 
 apparent. 
 
 Dismissing this from his mind, however, he cautiously 
 slid down the tiles into the gutter, where Blueskin was 
 already standing. 
 
 He could not resist the impulse of looking over the 
 parapet. 
 
 Nothing, however, met his view but a wilderness of 
 roof-tops and chimney-pots. 
 
 Fortunately, for some distance right and left of them 
 the houses appeared of a uniform height, which would 
 make their progress all the easier. 
 
 They ran a great risk of interception, because the 
 whole neighbourhood had been thoroughly aroused, and 
 they could not tell how soon an enemy might appear 
 from one of the numerous attic windows. 
 
 They kept on steadily, however, making as much speed 
 as was consonant with their safety while in so dangerous 
 a situation. 
 
 They had crept along the gutter over the roofs of 
 several houses, when they were forced to come to a dead 
 stop. 
 
 At this moment they were perhaps somewhere about a 
 quarter of a mile from the window through which they 
 had emerged. 
 
 A sudden uproar caused them to look back, and on 
 doing so they perceived one of the circumstances which 
 had occasioned Wild's delay, and prevented his getting 
 upon their track sooner. 
 
 He had halted while links had been obtained. 
 One of these he now held in his left hand, while in his 
 right he grasped his ponderous hanger. 
 
 His men crowded after him, and nearly all were fur- 
 nished with lighted links. 
 
 A ruddy glare was consequently cast upon the roof-tops 
 for a considerable distance round. 
 
 The scene was picturesque in the extreme. 
 Furious shouts came from the party. 
 They had made their way into the gutter, where they 
 found ample proof of the presence of the fugitives, as 
 well as a sure indication as to the route they had 
 taken. 
 
 The gutter was filled with a soft, black oozy mud, the 
 accumulation of many years. 
 
 In this the feet of the fugitives had deeply sunk at 
 every step they took. Consequently Wild and his men 
 were able to follow in their track with all imaginable 
 ease. 
 
 The howl of satisfaction which the thief-taker gave 
 upon making this discovery was something awful. 
 
 Now he thought he should be able to follow them un- 
 erringly, and capture would be certain. 
 
 No matter where they went, he should be able to track 
 them to their destination. 
 
 With the utmost eagerness, then, he pressed forward. 
 Too late, Jack Sheppard saw the imprudence of which 
 he had been guilty. 
 
 Such a thing ought to have come earlier to his mind, 
 and he should have taken measures to prevent such a 
 palpable means of tracking him. 
 It was no use to trouble about that now, however. _ 
 The mischief was done, and could not be repaired. 
 Besides, his whole attention was required to devise some 
 scheme by which the obstacle which opposed his further 
 progress could be removed. 
 
 We have said that after going a long distance they were 
 compelled to come to a halt. 
 
 That was because they had reached the brink of a gulf 
 which yawned at their feet. 
 
 The block of houses along which they had made their 
 way was divided by a court from a similar block of houses 
 which was built upon the opposite side of it. 
 
 This court completely isolated the houses upon which 
 these adventures were taking place from all others. 
 
 This was a terrible, unexpected, and apparently insur- 
 mountable obstacle, and it would seem that all the efforts 
 they had made to achieve their escape would prove abor- 
 tive. 
 
 All their exertions seemed in vain. 
 
 They had the choice of two alternatives. 
 
 One was to remain where they stood and be captured 
 by the fast-approaching thief- taker and his gang, or else to 
 leap into the gulf beneath. 
 
 Jack shuddered as he thought of this latter alternative, 
 and turned round to face his foes. 
 
 Onwards over the roof-tops they came, in prodigious 
 numbers, and raising a terrible clamour. 
 
 Foremost in the throng, however, Jack Sheppard could 
 distinguish the bulky form of Jonathan Wild, making 
 almost superhuman efforts to overtake them. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 Despairingly they glanced around them. 
 
 The opposite houses, from which they were separated by 
 the court, seemed like a haven of safety. 
 
 They were mocked by them. 
 
 To leap the intervening space with t-he chance of a 
 fall to such a depth beneath was a feat of so desperate 
 a character that even Jack and Blueskin, perilous as their 
 position was, shrank back from it appalled. 
 
 Had they been nearer to the ground, and the chance of 
 injuring themselves less, they would not have hesitated to 
 essay the leap, especially when spurred on by such induce- 
 ments as they were. 
 
 But the thought of falling down such a dreadful abyss 
 made them hold back. 
 
 Every instant, however, increased the emergency of 
 their situation. 
 
 Ere their hearts had pulsated many more times, the 
 thief-taker would be upon them. 
 
 With a speed that showed an utter recklessness as to 
 personal consequences, he made his way along the gutter, 
 and it was through this very recklessness that he succeeded 
 in getting so far ahead of his men as he did. 
 
 "What is to be done, Blueskin?" asked Jack. 
 
 " I fear all is over with us !" 
 
 " We will not yield without a struggle !" 
 
 " What will it avail us ?" 
 
 " Probably nothing, but I eould not think of allowing 
 them to capture me unresistingly. Do you think you could 
 leap on to the opposite houses?" 
 
 " I fear not. Could you ?" 
 
 " I don't know. I should not mind having a try. I 
 would sooner run the risk of falling down into the street 
 below and breaking my neck, than I would remain here 
 with the certainty of being taken !" 
 
 " It is an awful risk !" 
 
 " It is indeed, and we must make up our minds quickly 
 whether we are to do it or not, or it will be too late !" 
 
 " Look here, Jack. You are young and active. I have 
 no doubt you could jump it easily enough. Do so, and 
 secure your own safety !" 
 
 " And leave you here to be captured ?" 
 
 " Yes ; better one fall into the villain's hands than 
 both !" 
 
 u No, no, Blueskin, my friend, I shall not desert you in 
 the hour of your greatest danger !" 
 
 " Fho, pho ! Escape while you have the chance !" 
 " Never ! Either I leap with you or remain here '." 
 
 Blueskin could see by the resolute manner in which 
 Jack spoke that he would be as good as his word, and he 
 once more looked at the awful abyss, and calculated the 
 chance of his being able to take such a leap with safety. 
 
 Jonathan's approach and his comrade's determination 
 seemed to decide him. 
 " Try it, Jack !" he cried. 
 " Will you follow ?" 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "|You give me your word for it ?" 
 " Here is my hand ! Let me see you leap. If you suc- 
 ceed, I shall have a better heart to make the attempt !" 
 "Agreed!" said Jack, and as he pronounued the word
 
 ' 510 
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 he grasped his comrade's hand warmly, for the thought 
 came over him that perhaps that would be the last time 
 he should be able to do so in life. 
 
 It might be that fate had decreed that one or Doth of 
 them should pay the penalty of their lives for what they 
 were about to attempt. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXI1. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD CONTINUES TO PURSUE HIS VICTIMS WITH 
 UNABATED VIGOUR. 
 
 Although it has taken so long to describe what took 
 place from the moment when Jack and Blueskin songht 
 safety and shelter by entering the house in the court, yet 
 in reality a very short space of time sufficed for all that 
 we have described to be done. 
 
 For instance, all the time that elapsed from the moment 
 the two fugitives paused on the brink of the abyss up to 
 the last event detailed in the preceding chapter was only 
 so long as it took Jonathan Wild in his blind speed to get 
 about three parts of the distance which intervened be- 
 tween them and the attic window through which they 
 had passed on to the roofs. 
 
 But under such exciting circumstances it is wonderful 
 how much can be done in a short space of time. 
 
 Having pressed Blueskin's hand, Jack Sheppard sum- 
 moned all his energies, and prepared to take the fearful 
 leap which would either place him in comparative safety 
 or else destroy his life. 
 
 Shutting his eyes, however, as much as he could to 
 the inevitable consequences of failure, he measured the 
 distance and took a terrific spring. 
 
 Breathlessly his comrade watched him. 
 
 But his suspense was of short duration. 
 
 Jack cleared the space with comparative safety, and 
 alighted on his hands and knees upon the slanting roof 
 of the opposite house. 
 
 His faculties were too much confused by the force with 
 which he had fallen for him to retain his position, and 
 he rolled down the tiles. 
 
 Fortunately there was a parapet, and against this ho 
 rolled, which alone prevented him from falling into the 
 street below. 
 
 Quickly recovering himself, however, he arose, being full 
 of anxiety to know whether the same good fortune would 
 attend upon his friend. 
 
 Stimulated by Jack's success and the ease with which he 
 accomplished the leap, as well as by the increased rapidity 
 of Jonathan Wild's approach, who perceived what had 
 taken place, and hastened his steps accordingly, Blueskin, 
 without waiting to see anything further than that Jack 
 had alighted safely on the opposite houses, sprang for- 
 ward with all the impetuosity he could command. 
 
 But either he did not measure his distance correctly, or 
 else his bodily powers failed him. 
 
 He fell short of his mark. 
 
 Yet he reached the edge of the parapet. 
 
 He felt himself alight upon it, but ho could not retain 
 his footing. 
 
 Had he waited until Jack was in readiness to receive 
 him, doubtless all would have been well. 
 
 As it happened, Jack, who saw what had taken place, 
 was too late to save him. 
 
 For a space of time dtu-ing which, perhaps, a watch 
 could have ticked thrice, Blueskin's body balanced itself 
 upon the parapet. 
 
 The least thing would have pulled him over. 
 
 But before Jack could seize him, the inclination of his 
 body towards the street fearfully increased, until he hung 
 quite down the abyss. 
 
 A shout came from Blueskin's lips. 
 
 It was echoed by one from Jack's, and re-echoed by a 
 roar from Jonathan Wild, who was quite near enough b. th 
 to see and hear what was taking place. 
 
 Blueskin gave himself up for lost. 
 
 The violence with which he fell upon the parapet par- 
 tially deprived him of consciousness, but the hideous sen- 
 sation of falling down the chasm restored him to himself. 
 
 He struck out with his arms and clutched the edge of 
 tae coping-stone with a grasp strengthened by the peril 
 of his situation. 
 
 But he could not retain his hold. 
 
 He felt the stone slipping from his fingers. 
 
 He made another convulsive effort. 
 
 This time, Jack, heedless of his own danger in doing so, 
 caught him by the arm with one hand. 
 
 Almost at the same moment he clutched him with the 
 other hand by the collar of his coat. 
 
 But Jack could do no more. 
 
 His comrade's body was bulky and of great weight, and 
 it was only by throwing himself as far back as possible 
 and exerting his utmost strength that Jack preserved his 
 own balance. 
 
 But Blueskin, feeling he was saved, struggled for him- 
 self, and endeavoured with all his might to climb over the 
 parapet. 
 
 It was while things presented this aspect that Jonathan 
 Wild arrived at the opposite brink of the abyss. 
 
 He waved his torch once round his head, to make it 
 give forth a better light, and threw down his hanger. 
 
 It fell with a clattering sound upon the slanting roof 
 and slid down the tiles. 
 
 His reason for doing this soon became evident. 
 
 It was the quickest and easiest means for him to disen- 
 cumber himself of a weapon of which he did not just 
 then want to make use. 
 
 With incredible rapidity he drew a pistol from his belt, 
 cocked it, took aim, and fired. 
 
 A deafening report and a blinding sheet of flame fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 Jack felt something whistle past his face when he heard 
 the explosion, and then he knew he was saved. 
 
 It was the bullet. 
 
 He redoubled his efforts, and so did his comrade, until 
 he at length got on to the parapet, and then Jack with a 
 6udden exercise of strength pulled him over. 
 
 Jonathan saw he had missed his aim, and with a malig- 
 nant curse he threw the discharged weapon at the two 
 figures on the opposite house. 
 
 It struck Blueskin with such force on the shoulder that 
 it wrung a cry of agony from his lips. 
 
 But for the moment they were safe. 
 
 Pained, bruised, terrified, and scarcely conscious that he 
 had escaped a frightful fate, he struggled to his feet, and 
 blundered in the direction in which Jack led him. 
 
 Speed now would be everything. 
 
 A hasty glance which Jack flung behind him showed 
 him Jonathan standing with another pistol in his hand, 
 which he was in the act of levelling at them. 
 
 Jack had just time to sink down, and drag his com- 
 panion down with him, when the sound of the explosion 
 struck upon his ears. 
 
 Springing up immediately, for he knew that that danger 
 at least was over, Jack Sheppard drew his companion 
 after him. 
 
 By this time Jonathan found himself surrounded by a 
 crowd of people, who had with much difficulty followed 
 him to the spot upon which he now stood. 
 
 They waved their torches in the air, but none of them 
 made the least attempt to hazard the fearful leap from 
 one housetop to the other. 
 
 Jonathan Wild measured the distance with his eye, 
 and shook his head. 
 
 It would have been madness for him to make the 
 attempt. 
 
 He was too thick-set and his body was too bulky for 
 him to stand the least chance of effecting his purpose. 
 
 While he was thus compelled to inactivity, he had the 
 mortification to perceive the prey which he had once or 
 twice fancied he had actually in his grasp rapidly getting 
 out of his reach. 
 
 He drew another pistol, and in tones which were shrill 
 and shrieking through passion, he called to those around 
 him to fire at the retreating figures, which in another 
 moment would be lost to sight among the confusing 
 shadows that fell everywhere. 
 
 As he spoke, he discharged his third pistol. 
 
 An irregular volley followed from the motley crew 
 around him, but the fugitives were already too far off 
 and their forms too indistinct to view for any of the shots 
 to be effective. 
 
 What to do now Wild knew not. 
 
 To cross that chasm in time to overtake his prisoners 
 seemed impossible. 
 
 He ground his teeth and stamped with rage. 
 
 At this moment a faint cry reached him from the rear. 
 
 The tone of the shout, for s-c'hit was, startled him, and
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 811 
 
 in common with all the rest, he turned round to ascer- 
 tain the cause of it. 
 
 In the distance a man appeared, carrying a plank. 
 
 He had brought it from the roof of a house where 
 6ome repairs were going on, and where it had been left 
 by the labourers. 
 
 With a yell of satisfaction, Wild darted towards this 
 man. 
 
 He comprehended in a moment the purpose wnich 
 the plank was to serve. 
 
 Seizing it with his own hands, he ran back with it to 
 the abyss. 
 
 He carried it as though it had been a willow wand. 
 
 Indeed, he was never conscious of its weight. 
 
 This will show the extent of the passion which held 
 possession of him. 
 
 With frantic speed he placed this plank, which was 
 only of the ordinary width, across the intervening space, 
 in such a manner that it would imperfectly serve the 
 purpose of a bridge. 
 
 Surely it was about as frail and perilous a one as could 
 be well imagined. 
 
 But the thief-taker, wrought up to the extreme point of 
 desperation, darted across it like a flash of light. 
 
 A cry of astonishment came from those who beheld 
 him. 
 
 There was not one who cared about running such a risk 
 of his neck. 
 
 The plank was only just long enough to serve its in- 
 tended purpose, and in his haste Jonathan had placed it in 
 6uch a position that it was frightfully insecure. 
 
 It bent dowa in the middle by its overweight, and for 
 the want of some intermediate support. 
 
 Probably the weight of more than one person would 
 cause it to break asunder. 
 
 Wild, upon reaching the other side, looked back a 
 moment, and finding that none moved, he called out to 
 them, in a furious tone of voice, to follow him at once. 
 
 But none stirred until they heard the remainder of his 
 speech. 
 
 "I double the reward!" he cried. "Two hundred 
 pounds! Two hundred pounds reward ! Those who wish 
 to earn two hundred pounds, follow me !" 
 
 These words produced an immediate effect. 
 
 It is really wonderful what efforts people will make 
 upon the bare prospect of receiving a large sum of 
 money. 
 
 The plank was quickly placed in a more secure posi- 
 tion, and as quickly crossed by several persons, all eager 
 in the extreme to earn the promised reward. 
 
 Finding that these passed over in safety, the others 
 followed. 
 
 Wild, junior, was not among the number of those who 
 thronged the roof-tops. 
 
 He had been wounded almost at the commencement of 
 the affair by the shot which Jack aimed at his father, 
 the thief-taker. 
 
 Against this hurt, however, he struggled manfully, and 
 apparently took no notice of it. 
 
 With eager impatience he ascended the stairs while the 
 man held Blueskin, and endeavoured to keep up to the 
 thieftaker. 
 
 This, however, he failed to do, though he was in 
 advance of all the rest. 
 
 This was the state of affairs when Jack hurled the man 
 down the staircase. 
 
 Placed, then, as he was, he received the full weight 
 and accelerated force of the falling man, and the thief- 
 taker as well. 
 
 He was swept off his feet in a moment, and when he 
 fell he was undermost of all. 
 
 Indeed, the rest, every one, seemed to fall on to hkn. 
 
 He at once became insensible. 
 
 Who was there that could retain his senses under such 
 circumstances ? 
 
 In this condition he was left along with the man, while 
 all the others rushed upstairs in pursuit. 
 
 But an inevitable delay took place. 
 
 Jonathan Wild himself was partly stunned, and it is 
 questionable whether he would have recovered himself 
 had not one of his janizaries poured an immense quantity 
 of brandy down his throat. 
 
 This was, as we know, the thief-taker's usual restora- 
 tive, and it succeeded in the present instance 
 
 It was, perhaps, owing to this that his passion gained 
 such an ascendancy over him as it did, and most likely to 
 the same cause may be attributed the utter recklessness as 
 to the amount of danger to which he exposed himself. 
 
 He went on, indeed, like a maniac; and that provi- 
 dence which it is said watches over drunken men and 
 madmen seemed to preserve him from injury. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN, AFTER MANY PERILS, 
 FIND A HIDING-PLACE, AND THE THTEF-TAKEB CAUSES 
 A CONSTERNATION IN THE WORK-ROOM. 
 
 Thus was it, then, that Wild, junior, was not at hand 
 to second his father in what he did. 
 
 As for those men who accompanied Wild, several of 
 them were his own janizaries, and the remainder per- 
 sons who, having nothing better to do, joined in the chase, 
 to which the prospect of obtaining at a stroke more money 
 than they could earn with two years' hard industry gave 
 an additional zest. 
 
 That they were quite willing to risk then- lives for such 
 a sum was evidenced by the manner in which they one 
 after another crossed the narrow plank. 
 
 Had they been funambulists they could scarcely have 
 performed their task better. 
 
 No sooner did they reach the houses opposite than they 
 hurried on after the thief-taker, whose torch they could 
 see at some distance. 
 
 Things now assumed somewhat of their former aspect, 
 though, owing to the delay that had taken place in pro- 
 curing the ladder and making use of it, Jack and Blue- 
 skin have got a capital start, which they strive to make 
 the most of. 
 
 To their proceedings we now revert. 
 
 Every moment that elapsed brought Blueskin more and 
 more to his senses, and he followed Jack with increased 
 speed and ease. 
 
 That their ultimate escape now depended upon the 
 exertions of the next few seconds Jack Sheppard felt quite 
 convinced, and he rushed on accordingly. 
 
 At any other time the obstacles they overcame would 
 have appeared insurmountable. 
 
 By the time Wild had got the plank, and placed it 
 across the chasm in the manner we have described, tho 
 fugitives had got a considerable distance, and were, in- 
 deed, actually out of sight of their foe. 
 
 Owing to the rapidity with which Jack had sunk down, 
 and dragged his companion with him, the second bullet 
 from Wild's pistol was rendered harmless. 
 
 Then, as for the volley which was shortly afterwards 
 fired, they were by that time too far off to be injured, 
 and nothing more than a complete waste of powder and 
 shot was the result. 
 
 The torches which Wild and his men earned enabled 
 the fugitives to perceive them long after they themselves 
 were hidden from the view of their pursuers by the 
 increasing gloom. 
 
 Now or never was the time for them to seek some place 
 of refuge and ultimate safety. 
 
 They were by this time a long way from the attic win- 
 dow from which they had emerged. 
 
 They stood a chance, then, of escape, if they could 
 enter one of the numerous garret-windows before them, 
 and work their way down into the street. 
 
 This they resolved should be attempted. 
 
 Pushing on, then, as fast as possible, Jack kept on the 
 look-out for a window which seemed as though it would 
 answer their purpose. 
 
 It was necessary to find one where they could enter 
 with the certainty of being unperceived. 
 
 They were still unable to fix upon a suitable place of 
 shelter, when Jonathan crossed over from the other block 
 of houses. 
 
 This hurried them onward. 
 
 Just before them was an innnense skylight in the roof 
 of a house, through which came a feeble but continuous 
 ray of light. 
 
 It was necessary for them to be cautious, but, in the 
 haste he made, Blueskin trod upon a loose tile, which 
 slipped from beneath his feet. 
 
 So suddenly was this done, that he could not preserve 
 his balance, and fell heavily.
 
 512 
 
 RLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 His left arm fell upon the skylight, and at once shivered 
 one of its panes to atoms. 
 
 A shriek, which seemed to come from half a hundred 
 throats at least, was the result. 
 
 Blueskin, cursing his ill-fortune, rose to his feet. 
 
 His fall had not injured him bodily, but he feared now 
 that such an alarm would be raised as woidd bring 
 Jonathan upon them almost immediately. 
 
 From the tone of the shriek Jack felt certain it was 
 produced by females. 
 
 With an impulse of curiosity which he could not resist, 
 he dropped down upon his hands and knees, and looked 
 through the broken panes of the skylight. 
 
 Another shriek greeted him. 
 
 A somewhat singular scene was presented to Jack's 
 view, but he took it all in at a glance, and instantly 
 determined upon the course of action he was to pursue. 
 
 The room which the skylight was placed to illuminate 
 was a largo one, though irregular in shape, and with 
 a low ceiling. 
 
 In it were seated a great number of young women ; in- 
 deed, the first thought that struck Jack as being won- 
 derful was how the room could bo made to contain so 
 many human beings. 
 
 All were engaged in the same employment. 
 
 It was sewing with the needle. 
 
 The utmost consternation was depicted upon their 
 faces. 
 
 But such faces ! 
 
 It almost broke Jack's heart to look upon them. 
 
 Every one was hollow, pallid, and emaciated to a 
 degree. 
 
 Their eyes were all large, but lustreless. 
 
 Upon the cheeks of several the hectic spot of consump- 
 tion was painfully apparent. 
 
 The dreadful trade at which they worked sapped the 
 spring of life. 
 
 Jack noticed that there was not one really old face 
 among them, though a large proportion exhibited all the 
 tokens of premature age, brought on by long hours of 
 work in an ill-ventilated apartment, insufficient sleep, and 
 insufficient nutriment. 
 
 All seemed strcngthless ; and though, when they heard 
 the crash of glass, they had all given utterance to a 
 scream, yet there did not seem to be one who had physical 
 power enough to move from her seat. 
 
 When they caught sight of Jack's countenance they set 
 up another scream, but all still sat as motionless as 
 statues. 
 
 Prom the ceiling of this room hung a rude and roughly 
 constructed chandelier, upon which several tallow candles 
 were stuck ; and it was from these the light which had at 
 first attracted Jack's notice proceeded. 
 
 Here, he thought, would be a place where they could 
 safely ask for shelter, with the certainty of its being 
 afforded them. 
 
 Jack's resolution was no sooner taken than he set about 
 acting upon it. 
 
 Seizing the frame of the skylight as high as he could, 
 he bade Blueskin enter. 
 
 He was immediately obeyed, and directly his comrade's 
 head had passed through he followed him closer. 
 
 The trap-door fell down into its proper place at once. 
 
 The terror of the unfortunate sempstresses was now so 
 great, that they were unable even to scream, but sat 
 looking with glaring eyes upon the two fugitives. 
 
 Certainly the appearance of our friends was anything 
 but prepossessing. 
 
 What the poor needlewomen thought of them would be 
 hard, indeed, to say ; very likely they expected nothing 
 but immediate death, for their notions of what w«« likely 
 to take place were rather confused 
 
 The whole of their experience was confined toth"^/ofK- 
 room. 
 
 Jack saw all this, and hastened to reassure tbem. 
 
 He spoke in as cakn and soothing a voice as at> could 
 command. 
 
 " Ladies !" he said, making a circular kind of bow to all 
 who were in the room as he spoke, " I am exceedingly 
 sorry that we should have alarmed you, and been com- 
 pelled to intrude upon you as we have. But we are two 
 poor fugitives from a relentless foe, who has pursued us 
 until our strength is quite spent, and we can go no fur- 
 ther. We, therefore, entreat you to afford us shelter. 
 
 i 
 
 You need be under no alarm ; we would not injure any <,t 
 you for the world ! If you knew our story you would do 
 your best to save us ! Our death is sought by a ferocious 
 villain because we are the only protectors of a poor girl, 
 like one of yourselves, but who is heiress to some immense 
 estates, of which this foe of ours unjustly holds possession. 
 He wishes to slay us ! The poor girl, of whom I have 
 spoken, would then have no one to defend her. 
 
 " His next step would be to put her out of the way, and 
 then he would have no difficulty in keeping possession of 
 her weaitn. 
 
 " He has pursued us over the house-tops, and in another 
 moment he will be here ; and, unless you can find us a 
 place of concealment, he will certainly slay us before your 
 very eyes !" 
 
 The trampling of feet on the roof above added con- 
 firmatory proof to what Jack had said. 
 
 The foregoing speech he had uttered with the greatest 
 volubility. 
 
 But the poor white slaves understood it. 
 
 It was, above all, an address calculated to appeal at 
 once to all their sympathies. 
 
 They could comprehend the fate of the poor heiress if 
 deprived of her protectors, and, at all hazards, they re- 
 solved to hide them. 
 
 Jack saw in a moment that all would be well. 
 
 " Leave us to conceal ourselves," he said ; " all you have 
 got to do is to deny knowing anything about us, or having 
 seen us." 
 
 While he spoke, Jack had been busily occupied in look- 
 ing for a hiding-place. 
 
 By the time he had done, he had decided upon one. 
 
 In one corner of the room was a quantity of white gar- 
 ments. 
 
 They had just been made, and had been thrown where 
 he now saw them for the purpose of allowing the fore- 
 woman to inspect the workmanship. 
 
 There was quite enough for Jack and Blueskin, by lying 
 down, to be covered with them and [hidden from 
 sight. 
 
 Jack proposed this, and the needlewomen made no 
 demur. 
 
 There was, indeed, no time to lose, for though the scene 
 had taken place with great rapidity, another moment would 
 suffice to bring Jonathan upon them. 
 
 With that qxuekness of apprehension which is so dis- 
 tinctive a characteristic of the feminine disposition, these 
 poor creatures showed, by the ready way in which they 
 set about concealing the fugitives, that they fully under- 
 stood their situation. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin screwed themselves up in the corner 
 of the room, contracting their bodies into the smallest 
 possible space. 
 
 The clothes were then carelessly heaped upon them, but 
 with true womanly art, and in an instant the heap assumed 
 its former appearance, and there certainly was nothing 
 whatever in the chamber to generate suspicion. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had they time to resume their seats 
 and bend their fingers to their accustomed task, than the 
 sudden glare of ruddy light came through the skylight, 
 accompanied by the tramping of many feet. 
 
 Of course, placed as they were, Jack and Blueskin could 
 hear every word. 
 
 The hiding-place which Jack had chosen may seem to 
 be an inadequate one for concealment. But it was all the 
 better on that account. 
 
 Jack knew from Wild's disposition that the more artifice 
 they used in hiding themselves the more likely he would 
 be to discover them. 
 
 Both held pistols in their hands, and the attitudes they 
 had assumed were such that they could spring instantly 
 and easily to their feet, should discovery be inevitable. 
 
 They had strong hopes, however, that if these poor 
 needlewomen acted their part well, they should escape 
 by Jonathan going off on a false scent. 
 
 Whether these anticipations were doomed to realization 
 or disappointment time alone can determine. 
 
 With beating hearts they listened to what was about to 
 happen. 
 
 The conviction that the next few moments would 
 decide whether they would escape or whether they should 
 be deprived of life and liberty whetted their sense ot 
 hearing. 
 
 The footsteps on the roof which they could \$ar so
 
 BLT7ESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 KLOWORTH BESS AND THE YOUNG NOBLEMAN IN THE HOUSB IN SPRING GARDENS. 
 
 p'aiuly passed close to the skylight, through which an 
 increased red glare came into the room below. 
 
 Voices could be heard, and above all the rest the fugi- 
 tives could distinguish that of their implacable enemy, 
 the thief-taker. 
 
 Then there came a crash. 
 
 The skylight had been seized and thrown violently 
 back upon the tiles. 
 
 A tremendous clattering of glass ensued, and the 
 needlewomen gave a shriek of genuine fright. 
 
 Their terror was increased when, on the skylight being 
 removed, the form of Jonathan Wild and those of his 
 myrmidons, revealed by the torchlight, appeared before 
 them. 
 
 The countenance of the thief-taker was indeed an awful 
 sight to look upon, and well might those poor trembling 
 creatures feel apalled. 
 
 Its expression convulsed with rage, as it was fiendish In 
 the extreme. 
 
 The ruddy glare of the torches added to his demon- 
 No. 65. 
 
 like appearance, and the men crowded behind him like k 
 throng of evil spirits. 
 
 For a moment Jonathan neither moved nor spoke. 
 
 He was engaged in looking down upon the scene thus 
 unexpectedly presented to him, and endeavouring to find 
 some trace of the presence of those two persons whose 
 capture he was determined to effect. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS BAFFLED BUT NOT CONVINCED, AND 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD OWE THEIR LIVES TO 
 WOMAN'S SENSE OF HONOUR. 
 
 Whether anything indicative of the presence of Blue- 
 skin and Jack Sheppard met the hateful-looking gaze of 
 Jonathan or not would be hard to say. 
 
 The idea that they would seek shelter at the very first 
 opportunity they had was prominently before his mind, 
 and the cause of his being so long reaching the skylight 
 
 No. 66.
 
 614 
 
 BLUESKIX: A ROMANCE. 
 
 •was that he stopped occasionally in his progress to ascer- 
 tain whether they entered any of the houses. 
 
 Many little things convinced him that, up to the present, 
 they had not done so, and he reached the skylight only a 
 little too late. 
 
 Here, however, he came to a dead stop. 
 
 After pausing a moment, as we have stated, he jumped 
 down with great suddenness into the room. 
 
 At that moment the two fugitives fairly gave themselves 
 up for lost. 
 
 They had the presence of mind, however, not to move 
 a muscle. 
 
 They contented themselves with holding their pistols a 
 little more firmly in their grasp. 
 
 A shock of genuine alarm followed "Wild's sudden intru- 
 sion into the room. 
 
 His looks and manner were well calculated to produce 
 such a feeling ; and then the bang with which he reached 
 the floor — for, of course, the distance from the floor to the 
 roof was several feet — was positively tremendous. 
 
 It shook tho whole house, and both Jack and Blueskin 
 mentally remarked that if that did not cause the arrival of 
 some more persons on the scene nothing would. 
 
 "Where are they ?" yelled Wild, in his usual screaming 
 accents, addressing the terrified girls, who had one and 
 all rose from their seats. "Where are they, I say? 
 Where have you hidden them ?" 
 
 This pointed question, which seemed to indicate some 
 knowledge on the part of the dreaded thief-taker of what 
 they had done, so increased the alarm under which they 
 were labouring, that there was not one of them who had 
 the power to utter a word even if her life had depended 
 upon it. 
 
 Jonathan was about to proceed to some additional 
 enormity, when the door of the attic in which this singular 
 scene was taking place was flung violently open, and a 
 little thin, shrivelled-up woman, about thirty-five years of 
 age, rushed into the room. 
 
 In a faint whisper, when they saw her appear, the 
 needlewomen cried : 
 
 " Miss Blogg !" 
 
 This was the name of the new comer, whose appearance 
 we have briefly described. 
 
 She was the forewoman of the establishment, and it was 
 her duty to look after the needlewomen. 
 
 It was evident that, from some cause or other, she t*as 
 boiling over with rage. 
 
 So great was it, and so much did it blind her, that she 
 did not at first perceive that Jonathan Wild was in the 
 room. 
 
 "Hoity-toity! Dear me! Indeed!" she exclaimed in 
 the shrillest of all possible tones, and the most shrewish 
 
 aspect imaginable. " So this is the way ! Dear m 
 
 Oh!" 
 
 This last ejaculation, which she broke off in the middle 
 of what she was saying to give utterance, was produced 
 by her mingled astonishment and alarm at perceiving 
 Jonathan Wild standing like a demon in the centre of the 
 workroom, for it was by this appellation the miserable 
 garret was designated. 
 
 Jonathan "Wild, upon seeing her enter, turned round and 
 made a mock bow, as he said : 
 
 " Eeally, madam, I am sorry if I have created » 6light 
 disturbance in your amiable family " 
 
 Thus far did Jonathan proceed, but no further. 
 
 By the time he had uttered these words, Miss Blogg, the 
 forewoman, had recovered herself. 
 
 If her form was small, and her body weak, she was, 
 nevertheless, endowed with the spirit and courage of a 
 lion. 
 
 The first shock of her surprise at finding so extraordi- 
 nary a figure as the thief-taker in the workroom being 
 over, she strutted forward, and placing her arms akimbo, 
 looked up with a virago-like aspect into Wild's face. 
 
 She was in the habit of exercising command over the 
 poor needlewomen, and so used to the obedience which she 
 always received from them, that she, from force of habit, 
 expected it from everyone else. 
 
 The most amusing thing was, she thought this universal 
 deference was exacted by her own majestic air and 
 deportment. 
 
 In what she conceived to be a very striking qnd effective 
 manner, she stalked up to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " Oh, dear me !" she said, for her style of conversation 
 
 was rather fragmental and disjointed, "oh, dear me! 
 Yes, to be sure ! Very fine, indeed! I shouldn't wonder! 
 Of course — of course ! What else can be expected ? It's 
 very good ! I wonder you don't all laugh outright ! I 
 would !" 
 
 How long she would have continued this peculiar and 
 unmeaning discourse no one knows, but Jonathan Wild 
 interrupted her roughly : 
 
 " Hold your row, woman !" he said. "What do youmean 
 by talking that nonsense ? Mind what you are about, or 
 you shall hang at Tyburn on Monday morning ! I am 
 Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker !" 
 
 At this dreaded announcement Miss Blogg uttered a 
 scream of dismay, and seemed as though she was going to 
 faint ; but finding there was no one behind to catch her, 
 and nothing convenient to fall upon, she altered her 
 mind. 
 
 She also altered her manner. 
 
 In the most fawning and clinging tones imaginable, 
 she said : 
 
 " I am sure, Mr. Wild, I didn't know it was you ; but 
 really these gals is such varmints and scum of the earth, 
 that " 
 
 " The charge against you," continued Wild, not heeding 
 this speech, " will be that of having concealed in your 
 house two desperate robbers and murderers !" 
 
 "Oh goodness!" exclaimed Miss Blogg, "There's 
 nothing of the sort !" 
 
 " Don't deny it, woman. Tell me where they are, and 
 you shall have a couple of hundred pounds for your trouble. 
 Here they are." 
 
 By way of adding effect to his words, Wild produced 3 
 thick black pocket-book. 
 
 Avariciousness was the particular vice of Miss Blogg. 
 
 To have obtained money she would have sold her soul 
 over and over again, if she had only had the chance. 
 
 The bare mention of two hundred pounds was over- 
 whelming. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Wild !" exclaimed Miss Blogg, in the most 
 impressive accents, " I can really assure you that no such 
 persons as you mention have taken shelter here. I only 
 wish they had, and you should have had them exchanged 
 for two hundred pounds pretty quick." 
 
 "I can hear you are a sensible woman," said the thief- 
 taker. " Now just listen to me." 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " I have pursued two desperate characters over the roofs 
 of some houses for a considerable distance, but I lost sight of 
 them, and I feel sure they have got into one of the houses. 
 Now this is the one, I am almost certain ; because, I say, 
 a pane in your skylight is broken." 
 
 "A pane broken!" ejaculated Miss Blogg. " Oh, heavens! 
 how has that happened? It's some of you wretches," she 
 said, turning to the needlewomen, who were all stand- 
 ing huddled together in attitudes expressive of the utmost 
 fright. 
 
 " It's some of you wretches, I'll be bound ! Now, then, 
 who broke it ? Tell me at once, or I'll fine you a shilling 
 apiece all round." 
 
 The girls all declared they had not broken the skylight, 
 at the risk of being fined a shilling each, which was some- 
 where about half their week's wages. 
 
 " Now just listen to me a moment," said Wild. " I 
 make sure the two persons I am after have entered this 
 ruom, because I find the skylight broken. Just tell me, 
 if you please, when you were in the room last" 
 
 " About an hour ago, I should think !" 
 
 " Very well, that will do. Was the skylight broken 
 then ?" 
 
 "No, it wasn't!" 
 j, Wild's face assumed a triumphant expression. 
 ' "You are sure of that?" he said. 
 
 "Quite sure!" said Miss Blogg, emphatically, "because 
 •when I came in the skylight was open ; the varmint 
 said they wanted air. Air be blowed ! What did they 
 want with air ? Was the wind to blow in and flare tho 
 candles away because they didn't burn fast enough ?" 
 
 "But how are you sure there was not a pane broken ?" 
 
 "Because I got up and closed the skylight myself," 
 replied Miss Blogg, triumphantly. 
 
 " That will do !" replied Wild. 
 
 As he spoke, to the infinite terror of the poor girls, he 
 turned towards them. 
 
 " Now look here," he said, in a voice thiit made what
 
 BLUESIOy: A BOMANCB. 
 
 515 
 
 little blood they had congeal in their veins, "if you 
 don't tell me the truth about this matter you shall every- 
 one hang at Tyburn before you are another •week older." 
 
 " And serve them right, too, the wretches !" said Miss 
 Blogg. 
 
 " Who broke the skylight ?" repeated Wild. " Tell me 
 at once, how was it done?" 
 
 '• We don't know !" said some of the girls, with tremb- 
 ling voices. 
 
 " Don't know ! What do you mean by that ?" 
 
 " We don't know how it was done." 
 
 " Oh, but you own it was done ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir ; as we were sitting at work, all at onco we 
 heard something like footsteps on the tiles, and then there 
 was a sound like a fall, and then there was a crash!" 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" said Wild. " And, now, what caused the 
 
 crash ? Tell me, or " and Jonathan assumed Ms most 
 
 menacing aspect. 
 
 " We don't know !" cried all the girls in chorus. 
 
 "You don't know ?" 
 
 " No sir, we don't ; wo heard the crash, and it very 
 near frightened us to death, and then we heard nothing 
 else !" 
 
 " And no one entered ?" asked Wild, misgivingly, for the 
 thought occurred to him, that after having broken the 
 skylight, the fugitives had continued on their way. 
 
 " No, sir ; we heard nothing else !" said the girls. 
 
 Wild then uttered some very diabolical curses. 
 
 By this time, if they had not entered the workroom, as 
 he made sure they had, both Blueskin and Jack Sheppard 
 would he far enough away. 
 
 But he was not inclined to give up his point quite so 
 easily. 
 
 He glared all round him. 
 
 Nothing but the bare walls met his gaze. 
 
 There was no place where they could be concealed, at 
 all events, in that room. 
 
 As for the heap of sewing beneath which our friends 
 were hidden, he never so much as caught a glimpse of it , 
 for when they had started from their seats, several of 
 them, with admirable presence of mind, stood before and 
 completely concealed it from view. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was baffled ; but, in spite of the evidence 
 before him, he could not get rid of the impression that 
 his prey had really sought refuge here. 
 
 He resolved to make one more attempt. 
 
 " Hark ye, my wenches !" he said ; " I have threatened 
 you, and that will do no good, so now I shall make you a 
 promise. If you tell me whether the two persons I want 
 entered this room, the one that tells mo shall receive two 
 hundred pounds?" 
 
 The girls looked blankly at each other 
 
 Can the reader conceive how anxious .•» moment this was 
 for our two friends ? 
 
 Reduced almost to the brink of the grave through starva- 
 tion and hard work, as these girls were, and probably with 
 someone dear to them whose life depended upon their 
 efforts, could it be expected that they could withstand the 
 temptation of giving Wild the information he wanted, and 
 receiving for it the sum of two hundred pounds ? 
 
 All remainedly profoundly 6ilent, looking at each c^her 
 with eager, inquiring eyes. 
 
 They were wondering whether one of their companions 
 would speak. 
 
 Jonathan thought they were silent because they had not 
 understood him. 
 
 He therefore repeated his offer, and as he did so ho held 
 out the bulky-looking pocket-book. 
 
 " Here is the money '." he cried — " two hundred pounds. 
 I will give it to whoever gives me the information I re- 
 quire." 
 
 There was a momentary struggle with the spirit of right 
 in their breasts. 
 
 But it quickly ended. 
 
 Bight triumphed, and those poor girls achieved a victory 
 of which only themselves were fully conscious. 
 
 " We know nothing of them, sir !" they said. 
 
 "We heard the window break, and we heard the tramp- 
 ling of feet upon the tiles above, but that was all !" 
 
 This seemed decisive, and Jonathan was unwillingly 
 forced to come to the conclusion that for once in his life he 
 was mistaken. 
 
 He thought those girls would never have proved proof 
 against such an offer as he had made them. \ 
 
 He gave one last glance round the attic, but he saw 
 nothing. 
 
 Slowly and unwillingly he turned round, and placing a 
 chair beneath the skylight, mounted upon it, and in 
 another moment stood among his men upon the roof. 
 
 Some kind of fascination seemed to compel him to linger 
 about that spot. 
 
 He could not make up his mind to turn away. 
 
 He could not account for this feeling of conviction, for 
 the only circumstance at all tending towards it was the 
 broken skylight, and the fugitives might easily enough have 
 broken it in the progress over the roofs. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXV. 
 
 BIISS BLOGG DISCOVERS JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN 
 IN THEIR HIDING-PLACE, AND RECALLS WILD TO THE 
 SCENE OF ACTION. 
 
 Miss Blogg had for the last few moments been com- 
 pletely overcome by the offer which had been made to her. 
 
 To think that she should really have had the enormous 
 sum of two hundred pounds offered to her for doing some- 
 thing which she was very willing but not able to accom- 
 plish, was maddening in the extreme. 
 
 She did nothing but glare at Wild, with open mouth, and 
 continued to do so when he mounted the chair and from 
 thence sprang on to the roof. 
 
 At length the thief-taker, convinced that he should do 
 no good by remaining, and fearful that he should fail 
 in his attempt to capture the fugitives, after all the trouble 
 he had taken, stalked away, followed by his men. 
 
 The roof-tops were dark and silent, and as he gazed 
 around he could nowhwe see the faintest trace of those he 
 sought. 
 
 But he pushed onwards. 
 
 Even after his departure Miss Blogg continued to stare 
 vacantly at the spot upon which the thief-taker had so re- 
 cently stood. 
 
 The skylight still lay back upon the tiles, with its 
 glass in a terribly shattered condition. 
 
 Of this, however, she was oblivious ; and so, too, was 
 she of the cold night wind which poured in at the large 
 aperture, and caused the candles in the huge chandelier to 
 gfutter away at a great rate. 
 
 Presently, however, she recovered herself. 
 
 Turning round, she bent the most withering looks upon 
 the unfortunate girls, who stood still huddled together in 
 attitudes of terror. 
 
 As she looked upon them, Miss Blogg became herself 
 again. 
 
 " Well — well, to be sure !" she exclaimed, breaking out 
 into her usual incoherent style of conversation. " Very 
 well, indeed ! I wonder what, in a manner of speaking, will 
 happen. Yes ! Oh, it doesn't matter a straw. Of course, 
 we are all independent of our labour, thank heaven ! 
 and it don't matter a cuss whether we work or whether 
 we doesn't ! We can stand up, and there is no occasion 
 for us to work whatsomedever! Oh, dear no! I should 
 not ! Not at all, of course !" 
 
 Now what was meant by this speech, uttered as it was 
 with a rapidity that did credit to her vocal powers, a 
 stranger would most likely have been puzzled to know. 
 
 His bewilderment would have been increased if ho 
 found, as was actually the case, that she appeared to 
 address her random remarks to no one in particular, and 
 made scarcely any pause between her unconnectedsentences. 
 
 Her hearers, however, were accustomed to her peculiar 
 style of delivery. 
 
 They understood only too well what she meant. 
 
 Miss Blogg uttered these words in a tone which she in- 
 tended should be highly ironical. 
 
 She alluded to the poor slaves, who, while the preced- 
 ing scene had taken place, had suspended work, and had 
 not resumed their tasks when she turned round. 
 
 The reason was, they everyone shook -with fear, for they 
 dreaded that the two fugitives would yet be discovered. 
 
 This seemed extremely likely. 
 
 The heap of calico garments, beneath which Jack and 
 Blueskin were so inartificially hidden, was the joint labour 
 of all the girls in the room. 
 
 It was a portion of Miss Blogg's duty to inspect this 
 work — which the reader may depend she took particular 
 pains to do.
 
 516 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 It was scarcely likely that she would go down again out 
 of the room, without examining the work, and taking it 
 down with her. 
 
 If she did this, and they had scarcely any doubts upon 
 tho point, the discovery of the fugitives would be certain. 
 
 Then what was to become of them ? 
 
 The threats which the thief-taker had with so much 
 malevolence pronounced were far from being despised by 
 tbem. 
 
 They had a very exaggerated idea of Wild's power 
 
 llis words still rung in their ears, and their whole bodies 
 trembled and shook so that it was entirely impossible to 
 hold anything with the least degi - ee of steadiness. 
 
 The piercing gaze which Miss Blogg bent upon them 
 only increased these symptoms. 
 
 The forewoman having, as she considered, allowed suffi- 
 cient time for her last discourse to produce its full effects, 
 «poke again : 
 
 " Very nice goings on they are to be sure ! Taking, in 
 tt (Warner of speaking, all things together ! Well, we shall 
 see what will become of it. How pleasant ! Two hun- 
 dred pounds ! I wish I could see the rascals — I would 
 call Mr. Wild back pretty quick. Two hundred pounds ! 
 Dear me ! I can't help thinking what a nice man he is ; 
 and that squint of his makes him really delightful ! We 
 shall see what's to be done. Where's the work ? Oh ! 
 in the corner, there. Of course there's not so much 
 done as there ought to be ! Oh, you wretches, if I only had 
 you to deal'with instead of your dear, delightful, amiable, 
 angelic mistress, I'd pretty soon let you know what 
 was what — that I would ! And that is all the work done ? 
 Of course, we are all above our employment ! I know that 
 perfectly well ! But still I know my duty ; and I'll do 
 it!" 
 
 With these triumphant and high-minded words upon 
 her lips, Miss Blogg crossed the work-room and made her 
 way towards the corner in which the work was piled up. 
 
 As a matter of course, our two friends had not missed 
 hearing a single word of all that had been said during the 
 whole of the time they had been in their strange place of 
 concealment. 
 
 As for the danger with which they were now threatened, 
 they only partially comprehended it. 
 
 But they heard the sharp, quick tread of the forewoman 
 as she came towards the corner. 
 
 They prepared themselves for the discovery which ihoy 
 made up their minds must now take place. 
 
 The poor needlewomen sat looking on in dumb suspense. 
 
 Had their lives depended upon it they could neither 
 have spoken nor stirred. 
 
 They were just as though some sudden stroke of enchant- 
 ment had turned them into stone. 
 
 Stooping down, Miss Blogg spread out her arms and 
 prepared to lift the heap of clothes up at once. 
 
 She started and paused, however, for at the moment she 
 was about to touch them a faint cry struck upon her ears, 
 which was immediately followed by the heavy fall of 
 something. 
 
 Looking up to ascertain the cause, she saw that one of 
 the "hands," as she called them, lay prostrate on the floor. 
 
 The poor creature, completely overcome by what had 
 occurred and th« discovery which was threatened to be 
 made that instant, had fainted. 
 
 That was so common an occurrence in the work-room, 
 that it extorted nothing more than a passing glance from 
 Miss Blogg. 
 
 Once again she set about the execution of her interrupted 
 purpose. 
 
 With a grand sweep she caught hold of the clothes. 
 
 What was her horror upon discovering that the clothes, 
 instead of being soft and yielding, as she expected to find 
 them, contained some hard substance. 
 
 Tho truth flashed upon her mind with the suddenness 
 of lightning. 
 
 A shrill and ear-piercing shriek came from her lips. 
 
 Dropping the clothes of which she had taken hold, she 
 rushed towards the skylight and sprang upon the chair. 
 
 By this time Blueskin and Jack Sheppard, finding all 
 further hope of concealment entirely at an end, rose rapidly 
 to their feet. 
 
 Both were much invigorated and refreshed by the rest 
 they had had, and they felt themselves equal to another 
 Struggle for freedom, should it be requisite. 
 
 Jack saw in a moment the danger which would result 
 
 from the extraordinary proceedings of Miss Blogg if she 
 were allowed to go on unchecked. 
 
 The forewoman, having sprang upon the chair, caught 
 hold of the lowest edge of the skylight, and began to make 
 numerous violent efforts to draw herself up on to the roof, 
 quite heedless of everything but the notion that she was 
 about to earn two hundred pounds. 
 
 Before Jack could reach the chair, so great was her speed 
 that she had almost succeeded in scrambling out on to the 
 tiles. 
 
 Only two thin legs remained visible. 
 
 But these were enough for Jack. 
 
 Jumping upon the chair, he caught hold of both a little 
 way above the ankle, and then, exerting all the downward 
 pressure he could, he pulled her back into the room. 
 
 At finding her legs seized in this dreadful manner, Miss 
 Blogg uttered a scream, and when she thought of the 
 appearance she must present to those below, all her strength 
 deserted her. 
 
 Discovering this, Jack nimbly stepped aside, and the 
 forewoman reached the floor with a bang sufficient to 
 shake the house to its foundation. 
 
 At the same moment there came the loud report of a 
 pistol, and Blueskin narrowly escaped the bullet which 
 had been aimed at him. 
 
 The shot had been fired by Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He had not been able to altogether get rid of his pre- 
 viously formed conviction ; and though he applied himself 
 vigorously to the search, he could not help keeping round 
 the skylight, just as a moth will flutter round a flame. 
 
 At the time when Miss Blogg made her desperate 
 attempt to rush after him he was several yards off. 
 
 The scream, however, to which she gave utterance 
 reached his ears with great plainness. 
 
 Turning round, he found the cry had proceeded from 
 the direction of the work-room, and he considered it to be 
 amply sufficiout to warrant his turning back. 
 
 He made all speed. 
 
 He arrived just when Jack dragged Miss Blogg so vio- 
 lently back into the room. 
 
 Then the first object which met his view was Blueskin 
 standing in the middle of the room. 
 
 With the speed of thought he levelled the pistol he held 
 in his hand, and pulled the trigger. 
 
 But Blueskin happening to move just as he fired, his 
 aim was baulked, and our old friend escaped without sus- 
 taining the least injury. 
 
 Things had now come to a crisis. 
 
 Speechless with surprise and terror at the extraordinary 
 scene which was taking place before them, the poor 
 needlewomen neither moved hand nor foot. 
 
 As for our two friends, they knew full well the time 
 had arrived for rapid action, and they were thankful to 
 think they had rested sufficiently to recover in some 
 degree their late fatigue. 
 
 Blueskin held a pistol in his hand, and as soon as the 
 thief-taker fired, and before that worthy could execute 
 his purpose of once more jumping down into the work- 
 room, he returned the shot he had received. 
 
 Whether it was effectual or not he could not tell, for 
 the attic was completely filled with the blue smoke pro- 
 duced by the discharge. 
 
 Ere the echoes of Blueskin's shot had died away, there 
 was a third report. 
 
 It was Jack who had fired. 
 
 Immediately after he had dragged Miss Blogg down he 
 produced from his pocket the pistol he had the moment 
 before consigned to it, and though he could not take any- 
 thing like an accurate aim, he fired as well as he could in 
 the direction of the skylight. 
 
 The repeated concussions of the air had, one after the 
 other, extinguished the candles in the chandelier, and now 
 total darkness prevailed. 
 
 Without further loss of time, or attempting to strike 
 another blow, Blueskin and Jack Sheppard made their 
 way in the direction of the door which afforded egress 
 from the attic. 
 
 They had carefully noted its position, and reached it 
 without difficulty. 
 
 The sound of men jumping down through the skylight, 
 and a chorus of piercing shrieks, caused them to make 
 fresh exertions. 
 
 Favoured by the darkness, they w ere yet in hopes of 
 being able to make their escape.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 51? 
 
 The door opened to their touch. 
 
 Passing through it like shadows, they closed it after 
 them. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, there were no means by which 
 it could be even temporarily secured. 
 
 It was necessary that they should feel about them care- 
 fully for the stairs ; but when once they commenced the 
 descent, they would be able to make good speed. 
 
 It so happened that the head of the stairs was very 
 close indeed to the attic door. 
 
 Down they went, then, holding the balustrades for 
 assistance. 
 
 The floor beneath was quickly reached, and tho descent 
 of the next flight of stairs commenced. 
 
 Just then they heard the attic door flung open 
 
 A glare of light from the torches carried, and the 
 trampling of many feet, immediately followed, showing 
 tho energy of their pursuers to be undiminished. 
 
 The two fugitives increased their speed, and, with feet 
 scarcely touching the stairs, reached the second landing. 
 
 More stairs were below them, and down these they 
 sped until the landing on the first floor was reached. 
 
 No sooner had they reached here, however, than a door 
 was flung open with great violence. 
 
 A stream of bright light poured through this door on to 
 the landing. 
 
 A man appeared, and endeavoured to intercept the pro- 
 gress of the fugitives. 
 
 " Help, help !" he cried. " Thieves ! Murder ! Fire ! 
 Thieves! Help, help!" 
 
 " Take that," said Jack, " and don't in future mix your- 
 self up in other people's affairs." 
 
 As he spoke he struck this man a violent blow on the 
 head with the butt-end of the pistol he had so recently 
 discharged. 
 
 CHAPTEK CCCXXVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAR1) HITS' UPON A CAPITAL 8CFKME, AND 
 SUCCEEDS IN THOROUGHLY BAFFLING HIS WOES. 
 
 A very ominous crack was the result of this blow; and the 
 man, with a wild sort of shriek which was checked before it 
 was half uttered, fell headlong down the stairs, his body 
 striking with a sickening crash against the wall. 
 
 This interruption, although it had taken so little time, 
 was yet sufficient to let their pursuers gain rapidly upon 
 them; and Jack could not help admitting that their 
 chances were less than they were a little while before. 
 
 The fall of the man down the stairs could not fail to at- 
 tract the notice of those who happened to be on the ground 
 floor. 
 
 Whether they would encounter any enemies at the foot 
 of the stairs another moment would decide. 
 
 The man lay there as still as though in death. 
 
 Leaping down two or three steps at a time went the 
 fugitives. 
 
 The bottom of the stairs was reached. 
 
 No one appeared. 
 
 They cleared the prostrate body with a leap. 
 
 Before them was a half glass door. 
 
 They peeped through it. 
 
 It looked into a shop where linen garments of every de- 
 scription appeared to be sold. 
 
 A woman was standing behind the counter. 
 
 Her face was turned towards the glass door as though 
 6he had been alarmed by hearing something. 
 
 More than this the two fugitives did not and dared not 
 wait to see. 
 
 If they had lingered they would eventually have been 
 overtaken. 
 
 Suddenly they dashed open the door of the shop and 
 rushed in. 
 
 The female behind the counter uttered a shriek, and dis- 
 appeared from view. 
 
 Altogether heedless of her, Jack and Blueskin rushed 
 across the shop, and in a second were in the street 
 
 The hour was a late one. '*' 
 
 At the time of which we write the early closing move- 
 ment had not been thought of, and certain classes of shops 
 remained open at a much later hour than thev do at 
 present. 
 
 This shop was one of the late ones. 
 
 There was not another open in the street except tho 
 public-house at the corner. 
 
 It was verging upon midnight. 
 
 With a rush, then, our two friends gained the street just 
 as those who had followed them down the stairs burst into 
 the shop. 
 
 But the fugitives were menaced with a fresh danger, the 
 probability of encountering which Jack had overlooked. 
 
 Scarcely had they gained the middle of the street, and 
 before they set off in any direction, than they heard some- 
 one cry : 
 
 " There they are — there they are ! After them ! — wo 
 shall have them yet ! Hurrah !" 
 
 A rush of many feet followed these words, and a number 
 of men who had stationed themselves in the street, in tho 
 hope of seeing them emerge from one of the houses, took 
 up the chase. 
 
 Again, then, did it seem as though our friends were to bo 
 subjected to the terrible ordeal of being hunted like wild 
 beasts through the streets of London. 
 
 They had no resource but to fly with all the speed they 
 could command. 
 
 As a matter of course, they chose a direction opposite to 
 that taken by their foes. 
 
 With unabated speed they swept onwards. 
 
 The streets were quite deserted. 
 
 This was to them both an advantage and a disadvan- 
 tage. 
 
 It was an advantage so far as not meeting with any im- 
 pediments to their progress was concerned ; but then it 
 made them all the more conspicuous — and here was the 
 disadvantage, for they would be all the more easily fol- 
 lowed. 
 
 By this time those who had rushed into the shop had 
 emerged into the street and joined in the ranks of those 
 who were in full pursuit. 
 
 The cries they raised we're sufficient to rouse all London, 
 but nearly the whole of the population was in bed, and so 
 they did not obtain such reinforcements to their ranks as 
 they would have done at an earlier hour. 
 
 " Round the next corner, Blueskin !" said Jack in a low 
 tone to his companion as they hurried onward almost de- 
 prived of breath. " Bound the next corner, my friend, and 
 then round the next ! We must try to baffle them in that 
 way, for I am convinced we shall never outrun them." 
 
 Blueskin's breath was too far spent to allow him to re- 
 ply to his conductor's speech, but he nevertheless fully un- 
 derstood what he said. 
 
 The next corner was only a few yards distant. 
 
 They dashed round it, and were out of sight « then 
 pursuers. 
 
 Fortunately for them, another corner was close at hand. 
 
 Round this they swept, still keeping by that means out 
 of sight. 
 
 Jack directed Blueskin's attention to another corner 
 which it would be desirable to turn, because then they 
 would be more likely to baffle their foes, who, however, 
 they could hear, were much closer to them than was at all 
 pleasant. 
 
 " Now for a place of shelter !" said Jack, as they turned 
 this last corner. "Moderate your pace so as not to excite 
 suspicion. Ah, look ! On the opposite side of the ro d 
 there is the very thing we require." 
 
 He ran across the street as he spoke. 
 
 Blueskin was rather bewildered, for he could no/ make 
 out what fresh scheme had entered his companion' brain. 
 
 He was not long kept in suspense, however. 
 
 On reaching the other side, Jack reduced his pace to a 
 walk. 
 
 Blueskin did the same. 
 
 About a couple of yards before them was a tailor's shop. 
 
 The interior and the windows were brightly lighted up. 
 
 A boy was, however, actively engaged j n closing the 
 premises for the night. 
 
 " In here, Blueskin !" said Jack, as they reached the 
 door. " We are saved at last !" 
 
 These words were comforting on es to hear, but Blueskin 
 hardly dared trust himself to believe them. 
 
 He did not hesitate, however, & follow Jack Sheppard 
 into the shop. 
 
 He had great faith in his » )ung companion's abilities to 
 do all that he said he could. 
 
 They then entered the g^op as ordinary customer* 
 might
 
 518 
 
 HLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 As soon as they were fairly inside, Jack felt he "was 
 safe. 
 
 He uttered in a whisper a brief and energetic command 
 to his companion : 
 
 " Feign to be just a little drunk, " he said, "and leave 
 the rest to me ! Act your part well, and I will guarantee 
 not only to baffle those who are after us, but to procure a 
 first-rate disguise as well !" 
 
 Jack ceased. 
 
 A glimmering of his plan now dawned upon Blueskin's 
 mind. 
 
 At this moment a man entered the shop from an inner 
 room. 
 
 He came up to the counter at which our friends stood, 
 and desired to learn their pleasure. 
 
 Jack put on the air of one who has drank rather too 
 freely, but who is still sober. 
 
 " Sorry to trouble you so late at night," he said, with a 
 hiccup, and reeling slightly ; " but, curse it all, I have 
 slipped down in the mud, and so has my friend ! Just 
 look at our clothes !" 
 
 And he laughed unmeaningly, and as intoxicated men 
 do laugh, as he finished speaking. 
 
 In this laugh Blueskin joined, as though it was the best 
 joke in the world to fall down and soil their clothes. 
 
 " "What's the odds ?" he said, addressing the shopkeeper. 
 " If these things are spoiled — (hiccup) — I say, where's the 
 odds ? There's more clothes in London that are not 
 spoiled, and we have got the money to pay for them, 
 haven't we, my boy ?" 
 
 He, too, concluded his speech with a drunken laugh. 
 
 The shopkeeper was quite deceived. 
 
 He had not a very good principle, that tailor. 
 
 Had they been ordinary customers on such an errand, he 
 would have told them they were too late to be attended to 
 that night. 
 
 But as they were drunk he thought he should have a 
 good chance of fleecing them by passing off an indifferent 
 article, and charging an exorbitant price for it. 
 
 They would know no better, he told himself, ani on the 
 morrow they would probably be puzzled to recol'.ect any- 
 thing of the affair. 
 
 Now, this was what Jack had counted upon, and he was 
 right in his calculation. 
 
 Perhaps he had had some experience of the honesty of 
 London tradesmen under such circumstances. 
 
 Whether that was so or not, he was certainly quite 
 correct. 
 
 To conciliate his customers, the tailor joined in Blue- 
 skin's laugh, whereat the latter swore, with an oath, he 
 was a downright good fellow. 
 
 " "Will you please to walk this way, into the inner room, 
 gentlemen, where we can take your measure? The boy is 
 closing the shop, but that don't matter. When you are 
 suited, we can let you out at the side door." 
 
 " Of course you can !" replied Jack, with tipsy jollity. 
 " What a crib you have got ! When you have suited us 
 with a suit you will let us out at the side door ! Ha, ha !" 
 
 This was esteemed so good a joke that the two indulged 
 in a boisterous fit of laughter, to the infinite astonishment 
 of the boy who was putting up the shutters. 
 
 No one, to have seen Jack and Blueskin acting their 
 parts, and taking things so easily as they did, would for 
 one moment have imagined how close their pursuers were 
 behind them. 
 
 When Jack perpetrated the sorry joke of being suited 
 with a suit, his quick ear detected the sounds which indi- 
 cated the rapid approach of his pursuers. 
 
 Most anxious was he to reach the inner room, where 
 they would certainly be safe. 
 
 But he did not show the least trace of that anxiety. 
 
 Nearer came the shouts and cries, and trampling of feet. 
 
 The tailor led the way into the inner room, and was 
 closely followed by the two fugitives. 
 
 Blueskin came last, and, as if by accident, he gave the 
 door through which they had just passed a push. 
 
 It closed with a bang. 
 
 At that very moment, an excited, furious crowd, shout- 
 ing and yelling, tore by, and the boy dropped a shutter in 
 his alarm. 
 
 They were Jack's pursuers. 
 
 There was nothing in the tailor's shop to arrest their 
 attention, and they swept onwards like a mighty sea. 
 
 " There seems to be a bit of a row in the street, eh ?" 
 
 said Jack, with a laugh, which he checked suddenly with 
 a hiccup. " I wonder what it's all about ! Let's go and 
 see, eh, old boy ?" 
 
 "Ha, ha!" responded Blueskin, who understood his 
 companion perfectly. " More fun ! Let's go and see the 
 lark !" 
 
 " Nay, nay !" said the tailor, who felt at first an un- 
 accountable suspicion that his late customers were in some 
 way connected with the hubbub outside, but who now 
 banished the idea completely in consequence of Jack's 
 admirable presence of mind in acting as he did. " Nay, 
 nay ! It is impossible for any gentleman to go out while 
 in such a condition as you now are ! If you will step this 
 way I will show you some garments." 
 
 "Ha, ha! Of course !" said Jack. "Why, old boy, you 
 forget we were not suited with a suit yet ! Ha, ha !'' 
 
 And again they laughed tremendously. This time they 
 could do it with better spirit and effect, for they con- 
 sidered that at last the termination of the night's troubles 
 had been reached. 
 
 Whether they were right we shall presently see. 
 
 With a staggering gait they made their way towards 
 the counter, upon which were several articles of ready- 
 made clothing. 
 
 It was too soon to put off the mask yet ; and Jack, who 
 thoroughly understood the motive by which the tailor was 
 actuated, determined, ere he departed, to punish him for 
 his rapacity and meanness. 
 
 The clothes which the tailor placed for their inspection 
 were of the cheapest and commonest description ; but our 
 friends said nothing about that, because it afforded them all 
 the better chance of disguising themselves. 
 
 They allowed, in fact, the tailor to select a suit for them; 
 and so accustomed was he to his trade, that after taking 
 the measure of them with his eyes, he could tell what 
 garments would fit them. 
 
 Taking the bundle up, he carried it into an inner room, 
 where they could change them for those they had on. 
 
 Our friends entered this room, and quickly re-apparelled 
 themselves. 
 
 They did not address each other or throw off their 
 half-tipsy manner, for fear the tailor should be either peep- 
 ing or listening. 
 
 It was well they took this precaution, for the unprin- 
 cipled shopkeeper was listening and peeping too. 
 
 As soon as they had finished, and transferred the con- 
 tents of their pockets, which they were careful to do as 
 secretly as they could — for they by no means wished it to 
 be known that they were so well armed as they were — 
 they emerged into the room, where they found the tailor 
 waiting for them. 
 
 A glance showed the two comrades that the shop was 
 closed, and most of the fights in it were extinguished. 
 
 The street, too, was quite quiet. 
 
 Their hopes increased, and had the tailor exhibited a 
 proper spirit they would have been inclined to deal with 
 him liberally, as the means by which they had escaped 
 their foes. 
 
 But his rapacity they determined should be punished. 
 
 " How much for the clothes ?" asked Jack. 
 
 " Ten guineas each suit !" said the tailor, with a bow. 
 
 Jack did not show the least surprise or dissatisfaction at 
 this exorbitant price, but continued in his rollicking tipsy 
 character. 
 
 His pockets were well fined with money, thanks to his 
 adventure with Sir William, so he drew out a purse and 
 counted twenty guineas, one after another, into the tailor's 
 bands, whose eyes sparkled with avaricious pleasure as 
 coin after coin descended into his palm. 
 
 With a sigh of satisfaction he consigned the money to 
 his pocket. 
 
 He had, he considered, done a good night's work. 
 
 The clothes he had just sold for twenty guineas cost 
 him about two ; but then what were drunken men to know 
 about the matter ? 
 
 Anxiously he led them to the side door, whither our 
 friends followed him with gi'eat alacrity. 
 
 As soon as the door was opened, Jack cast an anxious 
 gaze up and down the street. 
 
 Not a soul was in sight. 
 
 The tailor stood upon the door-step, and wished them 
 good night. 
 
 Now was the moment. 
 
 Jack threw off his assumed manner in a second. 
 
 i
 
 He grasped a pistol in his coat-pocket, and he now drew 
 it forth with great suddenness and clapped it to the tailor's 
 temples before that individual knew what it was. 
 
 Jack pressed the muzzle of the barrel with painful tight- 
 ness into his flesh. 
 
 " Do you know what that is ?" said Jack. 
 
 Then, without giving the tailor time to open his mouth 
 or to move, he added : 
 
 " It's a pistol ! Now utter a word, or move, and I will 
 blow the roof of your head off ! The pistol is loaded to 
 the muzzle !" 
 
 Then turning to Bluesldn, he said, rapidly : 
 
 " Empty his pockets, and lose no time about it ! w 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXVIL 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS AT LENGTH FINDS HERSELF FACE TO 
 FACE WITH HER PRESERVER. 
 
 As lightly as foot could fall the richly dressed young man 
 approached the conspicuous female. 
 
 The reader will recollect that when we saw her last she 
 was standing at the bedside of the poor persecuted heiress, 
 Edgworth Bess, who was sleeping peacefully. 
 
 She had beckoned to this young nobleman, as his dress 
 indicated him to be, and in accordance with her invitation 
 he had stepped into the room. 
 
 She whispered to him to be silent, but her caution was 
 not needed. 
 
 With the noiselessness of a shadow he glided over the 
 soft, yielding carpet, and in another moment he stood by 
 the side of the bed. 
 
 The conspicuous female grasped his arm with on3 hand, 
 and with the other held back the curtains in such a manner 
 that the rosy lamplight showed with full effect upon the 
 sleeper. 
 
 Very beautiful she looked while slumbering deeply. 
 
 Her face, in the artificial light which flooded the chamber, 
 no longer wore its natural deathly white appearance. 
 
 It was now faintly overspread with a slight carnation 
 tinge, which enhanced her beauty in a wonderful degree. 
 
 Her neck and one fair arm were visible. 
 
 The proportion and shape of both were perfect. 
 
 An expression of rapture came over the countenance of 
 the young man, and as he gazed he clasped his hands 
 together. 
 
 Up to that moment he had never seen anything so truly 
 beautiful. 
 
 It was like gazing on some lovely vision. 
 
 He did not speak. 
 
 All his faculties were absorbed by the spectacle before 
 him. 
 
 With an eager eye the conspicuous female noted the 
 effect which this exerted upon him ; and, if her countenance 
 could be trusted, she appeared well satisfied with the result. 
 
 As though she thought he had gazed enough, she 
 endeavoured to draw him away. 
 
 But he resisted, nor could the strength which she put 
 forth move him in the least. 
 
 He seemed spell-bound. 
 
 " Enough, enough !" she said, in a faint but energetic 
 whisper. " You have lingered long enough ! She may 
 wake, and then " 
 
 " Peace, peace !" said the young man, speaking in the 
 same tone. 
 
 At this moment Edgworth Bess, roused probably by the 
 whispering, started violently, and awoke. 
 
 As her eyes unclosed they rested for a second upon the 
 form of the young man. 
 
 It was, however, but a momentary glimpse which she 
 obtained, for the conspicuous female instantly released her 
 hold on the cm-tains, and the descending drapery hid him 
 from her sight. 
 
 The conspicuous female drew the young man backwards, 
 and made him an imperative sign to retire. 
 
 Reluctantly he obeyed. 
 
 But she persisted, and he was compelled to withdraw. 
 
 "What is that?" exclaimed Edgworth Bess, faintly. 
 " Who is there ?" 
 
 She partially raised herself upon one arm as she spoke. 
 
 The conspicuous female appeared. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed," she said. " It's all right. It's only 
 
 " I saw someone else besides yourself," rcplie 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Hush, hush !" 
 
 « But I did !" 
 
 " Hush, hush ! Don't excite yourself." 
 
 " I am not exciting myself ; but tell mo who it was that 
 I saw. It was a young man !" 
 
 The conspicuous female nodded. 
 
 " Who is he ?" asked Edgworth Bess, whose mind was 
 filled with vague and undefined alarm. 
 
 " Your preserver !" was the reply, uttered in a low voice. 
 
 " My preserver !" ejaculated Edgworth Bess ; and then, 
 thoroughly surprised, she found herself unable to proceed 
 further. 
 
 The conspicuous female repeated her statement. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was surprised. 
 
 Somehow or other, she knew not how, the idea had 
 taken possession of her mind that her unknown benefactor 
 was of the female and not of the male sex. 
 
 The idea that it could be to a young man that she wa3 
 indebted never once occurred to her ; and now that the 
 notion was so suddenly presented to her she could not 
 help being overwhelmed with surprise. 
 
 " That young gentleman ! " she exclaimed, in tones 
 which expressed the astonishment she felt. " Can it be 
 possible that it is to him I owe so heavy a debt of grati- 
 tude ?" 
 
 "Why not ?" asked the conspicuous female. 
 
 This was rather an unanswerable question, and Edg- 
 worth Bess was unable to reply to it. 
 
 She could not think why not. 
 
 " Where is he ? Call him back !" said Edgworth Bess, 
 a moment afterwards. " Yet stay !" she added ; " why 
 should he come here while I was sleeping ?" 
 
 " He was anxious to know how far you had progressed 
 towards recovery. When he entered he did not know 
 you were sleeping. You awoke the moment he reached 
 the bedside." 
 
 "Then, why did he retire?" 
 
 " He knew your weak state, and was afraid to excite 
 you." 
 
 " Oh, call him back — call him back, I entreat you, that 
 I may thank him !" 
 
 "Nay, nay! There is time enough for that. Be 
 patient. When you are stronger and better able to thank 
 him will be a more fitting time." 
 
 " No, no !" exclaimed the deluded girl. " Now — let mo 
 see him now, while a sense of his benefits is fully present 
 to me." 
 
 "It is too late; he has gone! Besides, he would be 
 better pleased to hear your thanks when you are well ; 
 you must preserve them until then." 
 
 With a sigh of disappointment, Edgworth Bess sank 
 back upon her pillow. 
 
 " Rest — rest !" said the conspicuous female ; "in a few 
 days you will be well. You can return then, and thank 
 him." 
 
 " I feel much better." 
 
 " Rest — r^st !" was the monotonous reply. " It is rest 
 that you require." 
 
 As she spoke, the conspicuous female, who showed pal- 
 pable signs of being tired of the conversation, withdrew, 
 taking care, as before, to close the door after her. 
 
 Again Edgworth Bess strove to think. 
 
 The reader, being already in possession of the true 
 facts of the case, will probably feel suspicions of the con- 
 spicuous female rapidly increase. 
 
 It is quite certain that what she told the poor girl about 
 the richly dressed young man being her deliverer was 
 quite untrue, since she herself conveyed her to her pre- 
 sent place of abode. 
 
 What could be her motives for such conduct time will 
 unfold. 
 
 She was joined on the outside by the nobleman — for 
 such he was in title and by the accident of birth — and the 
 pair descended the staircase in earnest conversation. 
 
 In vain Edgworth Bess strove to think clearly, and 
 assure herself that all was well. 
 
 Her mind was agitated with vague alarm, to which 
 with all her efforts she could give no sort of consistency 
 or form. 
 
 From the first she had been mistrustful of the conspi- 
 cuous female. 
 
 There seemed something very suspicious about her.
 
 BLUESKJN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Then the young man ? 
 
 Could it be possible, she asked herself, that he had 
 rescued her ? 
 
 He looked far more like the owner of the room than tho 
 ■woman did. 
 
 .And yet, somehow, she could not bring herself to 
 believe it. 
 
 In this manner time passed f.'i7.y. 
 
 Days elapsed. 
 
 During this time she grew rapidly better. 
 
 Nothing ailed her but want of food and rest, and as 
 these wants were supplied, she quickly became herself. 
 
 She inquired repeatedly after the young man sho had 
 seen, for the poor girl was anxious to pour out her thanks 
 for what he had done. 
 
 Evasive answers were, however, given her, and she 
 was put off from time to time. 
 
 At length, about a week after she had first seen the 
 young man, she felt so far better, and was considered to 
 be so much better by the conspicuous female, as to bo 
 allowed to get up. 
 
 Upon leaving her bed she was unable to find the ragged 
 and dirt-bedraggled garments which she had last worn. 
 
 In their place were some garments fitted, from their 
 style and make, to be worn by a lady. 
 
 These, however, she for a long time refused to put on. 
 
 The conspicuous female with much difficulty overcame 
 her scruples, and in the end induced her to put them 
 on. 
 
 " It was by the wish of her preserver," she said, " that 
 the apparel had been brought in place of her own, and he 
 would be much pained if she refused to put it on." 
 
 An artful appeal to her gratitude settled the matter, and 
 the poor girl reluctantly yielded. 
 
 She placed the garments on, one after the other, with a 
 feeling of great distrust. 
 
 But she did not know how to refuse, and then all her 
 inquiries for her own clothing were not attended to. 
 
 She was, then, in a manner of speaking, compelled to act 
 thus, having no other choice left her than to remain in 
 bed. 
 
 To this she had the greatest objection. 
 
 She was impatient in the extreme, and longed to renew 
 her search for Jack Sheppard, who all this time must, she 
 felt confident, have been suffering the utmost uneasiness 
 ■*nd suspense on her account. 
 
 She therefore arrayed herself in the rich apparel, and 
 which should have been her daily dress. 
 
 She could not help being struck herself by the great and 
 extraordinary change in her appearance. 
 
 Her charms, instead of being hidden as they had been, 
 were now displayed to the utmost advantage. 
 
 How she wished, as she stood before the tall dressing- 
 glass we have described and surveyed her full figure, that 
 Jack could see her now. 
 
 The feeling was a natural one — for where is the girl who 
 is not desirous of appearing to the greatest advantage in 
 her lover's eyes ? 
 
 The subject of her thoughts called up a brilliant flush to 
 her cheeks. 
 
 It was at this moment that the conspicuous female en- 
 tered the bedchamber. 
 
 A grunt of approval at the appearance of Edgworth Bess 
 announced her arrival. 
 
 With a feeling of dislike which she could not repress, the 
 young girl turned round. 
 
 The conspicuous female was profuse in her admiration 
 and loud in her expression of it. 
 
 Edgworth Bess found it impossible to check the torrent 
 of her eloquence upon this subject. 
 
 We spare the reader the infliction. 
 
 At length she exhausted herself, and then sho in- 
 quired whether Edgworth Bess was willing and prepared 
 to see her preserver. 
 
 This was what the deceived girl had been anxiously 
 looking for, and she immediately signified her assent. 
 
 " Follow me, then !" said the conspicuous femais, "and I 
 will take you to him !" 
 
 " Take me to him !" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " Will he not come here ?" 
 
 " What, here in the bedchamber!" 
 
 " Pardon me !" exclaimed Bess, in confusioa. M I for- 
 got" 
 
 " Oh, never mind, there's no harm done ! Follow me i 
 He is not far off !" 
 
 As she spoke she took hold of Edgworth Bess by tho 
 hand, though this was a mode of conducting her which 
 the young girl would gladly enough have dispensed with. 
 
 She did not like to resist. 
 
 She was thus led out of the bedchamber into a spacious 
 landing from which many other doors opened. 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked with curiosity and delight upon 
 all she saw, for of course when she was conveyed irom the 
 hackney coach to the bed-room she had no consciousness 
 of the scenes through which she passed. 
 
 Everything she saw was magnificent in the extreme. 
 
 High above her head she could see the summit of tho 
 staircase, which was arched over into a handsome dome. 
 
 The balustrades were most elegantly carved and gilt, and 
 tho stairs were beautifully carpeted. 
 
 Down these they passed until the first floor was reached. 
 
 A door was then opened, and the heiress was ushered by 
 her companion into a sumptuously furnished apartment, 
 which was in perfect harmony with all she had previously 
 seen. 
 
 The apartment was vacant, and upon making this unex- 
 pected discovery she bent an inquiring look upon her 
 companion's countenance. 
 
 " It's all right, my dear," was the reply, given in her 
 usual thick, unctuous accents. " Go in and wait a few 
 moments, and he you so much wish to see will soon make 
 his appearance." 
 
 Utttering these words the conspicuous female retreated, 
 leaving Edgworth Bess standing alone in that magnificent 
 apartment, and with rather a bewildered feeling about her 
 heart and brain. 
 
 According to what seemed to be her unvarying custom, 
 the conspicuous female locked the door after her. 
 
 Edgworth Bess noticed this, and her uneasiness in- 
 creased. 
 
 Fancying she had not heard aright, she went to the door 
 of 'he room and tried to open it. 
 
 But it was fast. 
 
 V»r heart fluttered painfully. 
 
 What could be the meaning of all this ? 
 
 She gazed around her, but nothing reassuring met her- 
 view. 
 
 Everywhere articles of the utmost value and elegance 
 could be seen, and the whole aspect of the place was that 
 of a palace. 
 
 To Edgworth Bess, however, it was that of a prison. 
 
 She could not trust herself to sit down, and scarcely to 
 move. 
 
 She stood close to the locked door, in an attitude of eager 
 listening. 
 
 Put no approaching footsteps reached her ear. 
 
 Wlien the young man appeared, however, she resolved 
 to ask him the meaning of this extraordinary conduct. 
 
 While her thoughts were thus engaged she was sud- 
 denly startled by hearing a slight sound in a distant por- 
 tion of the apartment. 
 
 She looked in that direction instantly. 
 
 To her astonishment she saw the same richly dressed 
 young man at the extremity of the spacious chamber. 
 
 His sudden appearance gave her a slight shock of sur- 
 prise, for how he had contrived to enter she could not 
 conceive. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXVIII. 
 
 EDGWOBTH BESS AT LAST BEGINS TO REALISE HER 
 DANGER. 
 
 The explanation of his seemingly mysterious appearance 
 was, however, ample enough. 
 
 At the end of the apartment, opposite to that in which 
 the door was situated by which Edgworth Bess had en- 
 tered, was another door, and this the young girl had not 
 had time to observe. 
 
 With a smile on his lip, and a confident, smiling expres- 
 sion upon his whole countenance, which she was pained 
 and alarmed to see, this young man, with extended hands, 
 advanced towards hew 
 
 By his attitude it seemed as though he was about to 
 clasp her in his arms. 
 
 At any rate, the manner in which he came forward te
 
 BLUESKIN : A BOUANCE 
 
 BLl'l^KJN A>'D JACK SUEPFAUO OBTAIN A CLUE TC> ME WHEREABOUTS OF EDGWOKTII BESS. 
 
 greet her was peculiar, and certainly not such as Edgworth 
 Bess had anticipated. 
 
 She felt terrified and those vague feelings of alarm 
 which had so long oppressed her sprang up with redouble d 
 force in her mind. 
 
 She shrank back. 
 
 Heedless of this manifestation, however, the young man 
 hastened on. 
 
 Edgworth Bess could not avoid taking a good look at 
 him. 
 
 He was a young man upon whom few, if any, of the 
 softer sex could have looked without experiencing a more 
 or less intense degree of emotion. 
 
 He was eminently handsome. 
 
 His countenance was glowing with health, and his 
 bright eyes sparkled with excitement. 
 
 1 heir lustre was scarcely inferior to 
 ornaments which adorned his person. 
 
 His dress was very rich and magnificent, and exhibited 
 a thoroughly good taste. 
 No. 66. 
 
 that of the many 
 
 The times, we suppose, have for ever gone by when ttic 
 titled and the wealthy will exhibit the rich appearance 
 which they did a century and a quarter ago. 
 
 Their different ranks in life were distinguished by tho 
 dress, but now no perceptible distinction is made. 
 
 Kings of great brightness glittered on this young man's 
 fingers ; but they were only occasionally seen, for the lace 
 ruffles round his wrists almost hid his hands from view. 
 
 By his side he wore a light dress sword, such as in 
 those days no gentleman was ever seen without. 
 
 The scabbard and the belt, which were real objects of 
 beauty, glittered and blazed with diamonds and various 
 other precious stones, with which they were encrusted. 
 
 His attire almost wholly consisted of dark crimson 
 velvet, and on his head he wore a flowing white peruke, 
 in accordance with the unvarying fashion. 
 
 This imparted to his frank, open countenance a particu- 
 larly pleasing expression. 
 
 With animation beaming from every feature and visible 
 in every gesture, he hurried forward. 
 
 Xo. 66.
 
 H 
 
 BLTJESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, however, was not prepared to be greeted 
 so warmly. 
 
 Shu retreated rapidly. 
 
 The young man, apparently undaunted, ci m.3 on with 
 the same easy, confident smile upon his lips. 
 
 " Was this tbe being to whom she had to express her 
 gratitude?" Edgworth Bess asked herself. "Was this the 
 demeanour of a preserver — of one who, from pure and 
 disinterested motives, had rescued her from destitution ?" 
 She shuddered as this question mentally presented 
 itself to her. 
 
 With an effort she summoned courage to speaK. 
 "Hold, sir!" she said. 
 
 There was something so decisive in the tones of her 
 voice that the young man came to a halt at once, and the 
 expression of his face somewhat changed. 
 
 "What is the matter, my charmer ?" he said. " Is it 
 possible that the harsh words I have just hoard proceeded 
 from that rosy mouth, which should only be the means of 
 expressing the most ardent love ?" 
 
 The alarm of Edgworth Boss increased. 
 " Sir," she said, with native dignity, " I do aot under- 
 stand you !" 
 
 " Come, come! this ia nothing trafc an artificial coyness, 
 and doubtless the part which you are now playing has 
 been well studied. But with me it will have no effect ! 
 I am too old a hand to be ensnared by such a device ! 
 Come, my little charmer, if you wish to please me you 
 will throw off all those little airs and graces — they don't 
 become you, I assure you they do not. Come, now, I can 
 tell you that we shall be the best of friends !" 
 
 As he concluded this speech, to which Edgworth Bess 
 listened with mingled incredulity and horror, he called up 
 the same smile to his lips, and renewed his advance to her. 
 In another moment he would have caught her in his 
 arms — for at first Edgworth Bess was so far overcome as to 
 bo unable to stir — but his proximity restored her powers of 
 volition, and she darted away from him with the agility 
 and speed of a fawn. 
 
 There was an elegant chair near her, and behind this she 
 sprang, holding it before her in such a manner as to keep 
 off her admirer. 
 
 " Hold, sir !" she cried again, in the same startling and 
 decisive tones as had before made such an impression upon 
 him. " Hold, sir ! I have heard you without interruption, 
 and I must beg of you to listen to what I have got to say, 
 without you interrupting me." 
 
 At this address, so entirely different to what he had ex- 
 pected, the young man's countenance became the picture 
 of amazement. 
 
 " What is the meaning of all this ?" he asked. " I'll be 
 hanged if I can understand it!" 
 
 " I will tell you, sir, if you will listen, and if you will 
 remain where you now are," replied Edgworth Bess. 
 " There is no need for you to come any closer to me than 
 you are at present." 
 
 "Come, my charmer," exclaimed the young man, "let 
 us have an end of this sort of thing — it always tires 
 me." 
 
 " Nay, nay, sir ; I am convinced that you, like myself, 
 are labouring under some mistake." 
 "Mistake?" 
 
 " Yes ; and you would quickly understand it, if you 
 would only attend for a few moments to what I wish to 
 say ; I crave your attention for no longer period." 
 
 " Go on, my charmer, I will listen to you ; but not at 
 this distance." 
 " Yes — yes!" 
 
 " But I say, no — no ! Tbe thing is absolutely prepos- 
 terous !" and as he spoke the young nobleman continued 
 to advance. 
 
 Edgworth Bess retreated, dragging the chair after her, 
 and still keeping her face turned towards him. 
 
 " Stand, sir, I say !" she exclaimed, and exhibiting such 
 manifest signs of terror and distress as should have made 
 her would-be admirer desist. " I pray you listen to me, 
 and let this misunderstanding no longer continue." 
 
 " Ah, my dear girl, believe me, I understand every- 
 thing ! Come, cease this nonsense ! I know what it 
 means quite as well as you do ; and if you wisn to please 
 me, you will throw off all such disguise at once, and 
 appear before mo in your true character. As I said, so 
 .ovely a mouth as yours was never formed to utter aught 
 cut. lovo ; and, need I add, that such lovely amis as you 
 
 display are fitted only to embrace a lover? Come— 
 come ; we have had enough of this ! Throw off this dis- 
 guise at once." 
 
 Thus far did the young nobleman proceed in his speech 
 uninterrupted. 
 
 The reason was that Edgworth Bess was too over- 
 whelmed with bewilderment to be able to make any 
 reply. 
 
 She thought that one of them must be mad. 
 
 The closer approach, however, of the young man 
 aroused her, and with eyes sparkling with indignation, 
 she exclaimed : 
 
 " Hold, sir ! Once more — hold ! Once more I implore— 
 I entreat you to listen to me ! You wear the costume of 
 a gentleman — prove to me that you are one by listening 
 to my request." 
 
 At this address the young man looked at Edgworth 
 B'.'ss with great surprise, but his assurance coming to his 
 aid, he concluded that this was only a pretty little piece of 
 acting, made use of for the purpose of enhancing the 
 charms of the lovely being before him. 
 
 Accordingly, he greeted with a loud laugh that which 
 at first attracted his attention by its seriousness. 
 
 Unabashed, then — and, on the contrary, with more 
 assurance than before — the young man sprang forward 
 suddenly, hoping by this means to take Edgworth Bess by 
 surprise*. 
 
 He nearly succeeded in his object. 
 
 Rapidly the young girl retreated, and this time she did 
 not drag the chair along with her ; for she felt that it 
 would have impeded her movements to such a degree 
 that he would have caught her instantly. 
 
 She abandoned, then, this means of defence. 
 
 With one bound she seemed to reach the other side of 
 the apartment. 
 
 Breathless and alarmed, she leaned against the door 
 through which the young man had gained admittance. 
 
 Her hands hung listlessly by her side. 
 
 Her lips parted with terror, and she gazed upon her 
 persecutor — for such he was — with the utmost alarm. 
 
 Suddenly she felt her hand touch something, and her 
 heart swelled with joy. 
 
 It was a slight, gold-headed cane, such as the young 
 bloods of the period always carried with them. 
 
 The handle of this she grasped, and intended to hold it 
 before her as a defence. 
 
 As she swung it rapidly through the air she felt one 
 part of it shake, as though loose. 
 
 It is probable she would have paid no attention to tins' 
 circumstance but for the fact that a portion of the elegant 
 cane slipped off, and exposed a glittering blade. 
 
 In an instant, '''en, she comprehended the nature of the 
 weapon she held in her hand, and she coidd not forbear 
 uttering an exclamation of thankfulness. 
 
 The stick was one of that kind which carry, as in & 
 sheath, a rapier blade. 
 
 Such things then were very common. 
 
 Indeed, it was scarcely safe for any person to walk the 
 street at night without being provided with some such 
 means of defence. 
 
 With more rapidity than one would have deemed possible, 
 Edgworth Bess seized the lower part of the cane, which 
 served as a scabbard for the blade, and drew it off. 
 
 The bright rapier then glittered through the air like a 
 flash of light. 
 
 The next instant she held it up before her in an attitude 
 admirably adapted for defence. 
 
 The young man halted. 
 
 Surprise, anger, and admiration, all strangely mingled, 
 were visible in his looks and attitude. 
 
 Edgworth Bess spoke not, but, with her back against the 
 door, and her eyes riveted upon his countenance, she 
 watched his every movement, and held herself prepared 
 to defend herself, should it be necessary. 
 
 Her resolute bearing somewhat dismayed the young 
 man, and he hesitated about approaching nearer. 
 
 There was a gleam in the young girl's eye, which seemed 
 to say, as plainly as words could speak, that it would be 
 dangerous. 
 
 So he paused. 
 
 For a moment or so he was silent, and then contracting 
 hia brows into a frown, and biting his under lip, he 
 said: 
 
 " Come, I am tired of these heroics ; I have had enough
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 523 
 
 of thein. Would you have me believe you are in 
 earnest ? I will give you credit for the excellence of your 
 acting ; but believe me, it is by no means to my taste, and 
 I would fain see you in another character. Come now, 
 throw down that foolish weapon, about the use of which 
 you can, I am sure, know nothing, and which, I am con- 
 vinced, must of necessity be highly dangerous in your 
 hands. Let me disarm you of it, and for the remainder of 
 the evening " 
 
 " Once more, sir," said Edgworth Bess, with dignity 
 and energy — " once more, sir, I command you to come 
 no nearer, or, as you say, this weapon may prove danger- 
 ous. Of its use I may not be so ignorant as you imagine ; 
 and, therefore, I bid you beware ! You seem to be under 
 the delusive impression that I am playing a part, and that 
 all this is feigned. Let me, however, assure you, sir, that 
 such is not the case — I am most terribly in earnest !" 
 
 The young man halted before the sharp point of the 
 rapier, and stood looking at her in speechless surprise, 
 while bis eyes glowed with admiration at the young girl's 
 appearance. 
 
 Her whole soul seemed to be beaming from her face ; 
 and, with her countenance flushed, and her eyes sparkling 
 with excitement, Edgworth Bess never looked more beau- 
 tiful than she did at that moment. 
 
 As for the young man, he thought he had never beheld 
 anything so charmingly lovely in his life. 
 
 " In earnest !" he repeated, mechanically, and scarcely 
 knowing what he uttered. 
 
 " Yes, in earnest !" repeated Edgworth Bess. " Over 
 and over again, I have implored you to listen to me. I 
 am certain you are labouring under some mistake ; but if 
 you would only listen to what I have to say, you would 
 understand everything. Once more, then, on your honour 
 as a gentleman, I implore you to hear me !" 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCXXIX. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS RESOLVES TO PUT TRUST IN THE YOUNG 
 NOBLEMAN. 
 
 " You are so beautiful," said the young man, clasping bis 
 hands, and fixing his glowing eyes upon our heroine, 
 " you are so beautiful, that it lies not in my power to 
 refuse you anything ! Speak, then ! Tell me that which 
 you are so desirous to communicate. But, while you do 
 so, let me entreat that you will no longer preserve the 
 cruel attitude which is so unbecoming of you. Here, by 
 my side, upon this couch, I will listen to all you havo to 
 say, even though you ended not at doomsday !" 
 
 " Sir," replied Edgworth Bess, while you hear what 
 I have to say, our present positions must be retained. You 
 need not fear that I shall be tedious. I shall be only too 
 glad when this scene comes to an end." 
 
 The young man's astonishment increased, and he began, 
 for the first time, to realise that this interview would have 
 a widely different termination to that which he had wished 
 for and expected. 
 
 Edgworth Bess continued : 
 
 " The other night, on waking from my sleep, I saw you 
 standing at my bedside, and gazing upon mo as you do 
 now. You disappeared almost instantly, but not before I 
 had seen you, and noted your countenance so well that I 
 felt certain I should be able to recognise you in a moment. 
 I inquired who you were, and I was informed that you 
 were my preserver and benefactor." 
 
 " Your preserver and benefactor !" ejaculated the young 
 man, staggering back in the intensity of his astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 "Your tones express surprise," said Edgworth Bess, 
 " and I cannot help thinking that I have been deceived. I 
 confess I could not reconcile your behaviour towards me 
 this evening with the impulse which prompted yon to 
 snatch a starving girl from death l<y destitution." 
 
 " Destitution ! Good heavens ! My dear girl, compose 
 yourself ! You must be mad !" 
 
 " No, I am not mad, and yet " 
 
 Edgworth Bess interrupted herself, and passed one hand 
 confusedly over her brow. 
 
 The events which had latterly occurred were certainly 
 sufficient to induce the belief that her intellects were 
 wandering. 
 
 But the present scene seemed real. 
 
 "No, I am not mad," she said, with additional calm- 
 
 ness. " I begin to see now that I have been most cruelly 
 deceived." 
 
 "• Deceived ? What — how ? Explain yourself !" 
 
 "I will, sir. Some days ago — I cannot say how many 
 — I sank down, overcome with fatigue and exhaustion 
 from want of food, upon a door-step. I felt that I coiild 
 go no further, and I soon became unconscious of all that 
 was happening around me. What happened from that 
 moment until I awoke and found myself in the bed by the 
 side of which you have stood, I have not the least idea. 
 All is blank. When I awoke, I was weak ; but all my 
 wants were attended to. I soon grew stronger. The first 
 thing I desired to know was the name of my preserver, for 
 I had come to the conclusion, after much anxious thought 
 upon the subject, that I must have been found upon the 
 door-step by some kind, rich, and benevolent person, and 
 placed where I found myself." 
 
 At these words the young man smiled faintly. 
 
 But a remarkable change had come over him. 
 
 He listened to every word which fell from the lips of 
 Edgworth Bess with the utmost attention and interest. 
 
 "Proceed," he said, gently — "pi'oceed! Let me hear 
 all." 
 
 The tones of his voice and his manner were so entirely 
 different from what they had peen a short time before that 
 Edgworth Bess looked at him with surprise. 
 
 Nevertheless, she continued : 
 
 " Having come to this conclusion, I became anxious in 
 the extreme to see the person to whom I was so much in- 
 debted. A woman, to whom I took the deepest dislike the 
 moment I saw her, seemed my principal attendant. To 
 her, therefore, I addressed myself. I requested her to lose 
 no more time in bringing me face to face with my bene- 
 factor, in order that I might pour out my gratitude and 
 thanks, for I felt my heart full to overflowing. This she 
 would not do. When I awoke and found you bending 
 over me, I eagerly demanded who you were. This woman 
 then told me that you were my preserver — that it was to 
 you I was indebted for my preservation from death — from 
 starvation in the streets." 
 
 "I?" ejaculated the young man, with increased sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Yes, you. But hear me out, and then you will be able 
 to judge better, and so shall I. No sooner did I become 
 aware of this than I was impatient in the extreme to again 
 find myself face to face with you. But my repeated 
 request was not attended to. At length I became strong 
 and well enough to leave my bed. The garments which I 
 had last worn were nowhere to be seen, and those which I 
 now wear were in their place. At first I refused to put 
 these on, but I was told that you— my benefactor — would be 
 displeased if I refused, and I yielded. I was then told 
 you were waiting for me, and I was led to this apartment. 
 But your behaviour during our interview has been so 
 utterly at variance with what I had expected, that I cannot 
 come to any other conclusion than that I have been de- 
 ceived. Hold off, sir !" she cried, with sudden energy, as 
 she perceived the young man about to advance. 
 
 He halted at once, and then spoke. 
 
 "Fear nothing," he said; " I can assure you, you have 
 no longer any occasion to fear me. Like yourself, I havo 
 been grossly deceived by Mother Robothara in this 
 affair." 
 
 "Mother who?" inquired Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Mother Robotharn." 
 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " The woman who keeps this house." 
 
 " The woman who keeps this house ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Can it be possible that this elegant, mansion belongs 
 to " 
 
 " Say no more ! Spare me, I pray you, the disagreeable 
 task of stating who Mother Robotharn really is, and the 
 nature of the proceedings which are carried on in this 
 house." 
 
 Edgworth Bess stared at him aghast. 
 
 The young man continued : 
 
 "As I said just this moment, you have not been more 
 grossly deceived in this matter than I have. Need I tell 
 you that I knew nothing of your history until the present 
 moment, and that I have no claims whatever to the titles 
 of either your preserver or benefactor." 
 
 " Oh, heavens !" 
 
 " Nay, hear me out. It may be that in me you will find
 
 524 
 
 BLUF.SKTN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 a friend, who will see you clear of a terrible danger. I 
 will, however, bo frank with you, and I trust you will 
 pardon, for that reason, any liberty of speech of which I 
 may make use." 
 
 With parted lips, Edgworth Bess listened eagerly to 
 what was about to happen next. 
 
 " You will doubtless understand me when I say that 
 this house, kept by a woman who is knowu as Mother 
 Eobotham, is a place to which young men in the City of 
 London occasionally repair in search of pleasure. I can 
 tell by the expression of your face that you understand 
 me. I need say no more, except that I was told of your 
 presence here by the woman you have mentioned, and ad- 
 mitted to an interview with you, under the belief that you 
 were by no means unwilling that thu caeeting should take 
 place. You will now, I hope, understand my behaviour. 
 No doubt mine has surprised you as much as yours has 
 me." 
 
 Edgworth Bess burst into a bitter flood of tears. 
 
 "Alas — alas !" she exclaimed, in a voice broken by sobs, 
 " By what a malignant fate am I pursued ! I escape one 
 danger only to fall into another worse. Merciful heavens ! 
 what will become of me?" 
 
 For a moment or two the young man remained silent, 
 and allowed her grief to remain unchecked and uninter- 
 fered with. 
 
 Then he spoke. 
 
 " If you will allow me," he said, " I will make the only 
 reparation in my power for the injury I have clone and 
 the unhappiness I have caused you." 
 
 She fixed her tearful eyes upon him, in the endeavour 
 to ascertain how far he was to be trusted. 
 
 But no other expression appeared upon the young man's 
 countenance than that of candour and .sincerity. 
 
 "Will you," he added, perceiving bow her attention 
 was riveted upon him, " will you allow me to repair, as 
 well as I am able, the injury I have dona you ?" 
 
 " I do not understand you, sir." 
 
 " Then I will speak more plainly. It is quite evident 
 that you are no willing inmate of this house." 
 
 "Oh, no — no!" exclaimed Edgwoua Bess, with a 
 6hudder of horror. 
 
 "I knew it — but then, if I am content to take my 
 departure, leaving you unmolested, that will not secure 
 you from the advances of others, who perhaps might not 
 feel disposed to listen to your words as I have done. Be- 
 sides, I shudder when I think upon the fate which is 
 almost certain to be your lot !" 
 
 " Oh, sir !" exclaimed the poor girl, " you fill me with 
 even greater horror and apprehension than I have yet ex- 
 perienced !" 
 
 " If you remain in this house " 
 
 " Fear not, sir, that 1 shall lose any time in leaving it ! 
 Do not think that I should remain in it a moment after 
 I have parted with you!" 
 
 The young man shook his bead. 
 
 "You speak in total ignorance of where you are, and 
 the characters by whom you are surrounded. Do you 
 think you would be allowed to quit this house ? No ! — 
 they would slay you first!" 
 
 "Alas! alas!" moaned the unhappy girl. "What will 
 become of me ?" 
 
 " If you will allow me to obtain in reality the title 
 which has already been falsely bestowed upon me — that 
 of your deliverer — I am willing to attempt it. " 
 
 "What is your meaning, sir ?" 
 
 "Simple enough. Under my protection you will be 
 able to leave this house, but by no other means. As I 
 I have told you, they would slay you rather than suffer 
 you to depart. Under my escort, however, you will, 
 doubtless, be able to leave this ill-omened roof. Will you 
 place so much trust in me as to allow me the opportunity 
 of rescuing you from this danger ? Believe me, it is a more 
 fearful one than that with which you were menaced when 
 you sank down upon the door-step in the manner you have 
 described !" 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked closely into the young man's 
 countenance as -he gave utterance to the preceding speech. 
 But she could detect upon it nothing but candour and 
 integrity of purpose. 
 
 An anxious question now presented itself to her. 
 
 Should she trust this young man ? 
 
 There was unquestionably great risk in doing so ; and 
 yet, she asked herself, after what ,she had heard, was it 
 
 possible that she could make her position worse than it 
 then was? 
 
 That did not seem to be possible. 
 
 Again she lookod into the young man's countenance ; 
 and this time she felt even better satisfied with the result 
 of her examination. 
 
 Ho spoke again. 
 
 " I shall not press you to act in the manner I have 
 advised," he said, " lest you should place a wrong con- 
 struction on my motives. If, however, you are willing to 
 trust me, I will pledge you my honour as a gentleman — 
 and, bad as I may have been, I have never broken my 
 word — I say again, that if you will trust me, I will pledge 
 you my honour to strive my utmost to free you from this 
 horrible den." 
 
 Edgworth Bess hesitated. 
 
 She fully realised the importance of the step she was 
 thus desired to take. 
 
 She felt fearful to decide. 
 
 And yet, the prospect of remaining where she was, with 
 the probability of being again subjected to such an ordeal 
 as that which sho had just passed through, was so full of 
 horror, that she felt almost decided. 
 
 Once more she looked at the young man's expressive 
 countenance. 
 
 It remained unchanged. 
 
 She lowered the point of the weapon with which she 
 had hitherto kept him at a distance, but very slowly. 
 
 Still it was lowered. 
 
 The young man advanced. 
 
 She held out her hand towards him. 
 
 Then, in an earnest, solemn voice, she spoke. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCXXX. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS SUCCEEDS IN LEAVING THE HOUSE IN 
 SPRING GARDENS. 
 
 With his countenance beaming with undissembled plea- 
 sure, the young nobleman stepped forward a few paces, 
 and took eagerly the hand which was extended towards him. 
 
 "I will trust you, sir!" said Edgworth Bess. "I will 
 place reliance upon your word of honour, so solemnly 
 given me ! I hope I shall do so, and have no cause to 
 repent it ! If you are deceiving me in any way — if any 
 treachery lurks beneath your words — then may you be 
 deceived at the moment when you place the utmost re- 
 liance upon another !" 
 
 He shook a Uttle at this adjuration, Edgworth Bess 
 thought ; but, if so, it was so slightly as to be scarcely per- 
 ceptible. 
 
 The tones of his voice, when he replied to her, were 
 constrained, however, and he seemed to be suffering deeply 
 from some emotion. 
 
 " You can trust me," he said, " as you would trust 
 yourself, or anyone who is dear to you ! I shall not be 
 false to my pledge ! I cannot say that I have spent my 
 life as I should have spent it, but I can lay my hand upon 
 my heart and say that I never yet was guilty of a base or 
 dishonourable action !" 
 
 The accents of truth are unmistakeable and irresistible. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, as she listened to these words, felt her 
 confidence increase. 
 
 "Once more," she said, "I will say, I trust you, and 
 place full reliance upon your power and good faith to save 
 me!" 
 
 " I say it not from any desire of overrating my services," 
 replied the young nobleman, " but you have acted very 
 wisely. You do not — and heaven forbid you ever should — 
 realise the full horrors of the place, or the scenes to which 
 you would have been exposed. Aided only by yourself, 
 you would never have been able to escape, and you would 
 have met with a doom I shudder to contemplate ! Happily, 
 however, that is over now, and you have no longer 
 anything to fear upon that head. Enough has been said; 
 and it is time now for action. Arm yourself with what 
 fortitude you are able, for we have a violent scene to go 
 through !" 
 
 " You terrify me !" 
 
 " Nay, nay — do not be alarmed ! I will take care that 
 no harm happens to yourself !" 
 
 "But you ?" 
 
 "Can it be possible that you feel an interest in my 
 welfare?"
 
 EIXTSKIM: A ROMANCE. 
 
 525 
 
 " Can I do otherwise ? Are you not about to render nie 
 an inestimable service ?" 
 
 " True — true ! The speech was a foolish one ; but you 
 will quickly see that I am well ablo to tako my own 
 part." 
 
 " But what are you about to do ?" 
 " That will depend greatly upon circumstances." 
 " What circumstances ?" 
 
 " Those which may arise. In the first place, I shall re- 
 quire you to place your hand upon my left arm, thus. I 
 will carry the rapier in my right. I shall then proceed to 
 leave the house. If I am allowed to do so unquestioned, 
 why, well and good ; if not, let those who seek to interrupt 
 me look to the consequences !" 
 
 " You alarm me !" said Edgworth Bess, " and I question 
 whether I am right in thus bringing down danger upon 
 you !" 
 
 " Pho, pho ! I feel that I owe you some reparation, and 
 I am only too anxious to discharge the obligation. Come, 
 lend me your hand ! We will tarry here no longer. The 
 sooner you cease to breathe the atmosphere of pollution 
 which fills this place, the better it will be for your own 
 purity. Come, give me your hand !" 
 Edgworth Bess hesitated. 
 
 Even at the last moment the dreadful question occurred 
 to her — was she acting rightly ? 
 She could not tell. 
 
 Sho felt, however, that she had no resource, and resolved 
 to leave the result in the hands of providence, and consoled 
 herself with the reflection that she had acted, so far as 
 sho could tell, for the best. 
 
 After this momentary struggle, she tremblingly placed 
 her hand upon the young nobleman's arm, as he had re- 
 quested. 
 
 The die was now cast, and she felt like some desperate 
 gamester who had staked his all upon one throw. 
 
 A furtive glance at her companion's countenance some- 
 what reassured her. 
 
 He no longer showed the least wish of remaining in that 
 apartment. 
 He strodo towards the door. 
 
 It was but a few paces from them, and was not the one 
 through which Edgworth Bess had been ushered by the 
 conspicuous female — who, it appeared, was known by the 
 peculiar title of Mother Bobotham — but the ou*, „h.~^gh 
 which the young nobleman had passed when he entered 
 the room unperceived by Edgworth Bess. 
 
 The other door was locked, she already knew, and she 
 wondered whether this one was. 
 Her doubts were soon set at rest. 
 
 Her companion turned the handle, and the door opened 
 to a touch. 
 A spacious and well-lighted corridor appeared beyond. 
 It seemed to be the entrance-hall of a mansion, but 
 Edgworth Bess could tell at a glance it was not the one 
 she had crossed when she entered the apartment where her 
 singular interview had taken place. 
 
 With a bold and confident step, which had the effect of 
 banishing a great deal of the timidity she felt, the young 
 nobleman passed into this corridor, and made his way 
 along it in • a certain direction until a spacious staircase 
 was reached, and then Edgworth Bess recollected that she 
 was not upon the ground floor, but the first iloor of the 
 house. 
 
 Labouring under so much excitement as she had been, 
 it is not wonderful that she should have forgotten this. 
 The staircase was brilliantly lighted. 
 Edgworth Bess glanced all round anxiously ; but, to her 
 relief, she saw nobody. 
 
 The descent of the stairs was then commenced. 
 She still allowed her hand to remain upon his arm, and 
 he still held the rapier in his hand in such a position as to 
 make immediate use of it. 
 
 In spite.of herself, Edgworth Bess trembled. 
 Her companion perceived the tremor, and strove to ra- 
 assure her. 
 
 "It is quite possible," he said, "that we shall bo able 
 to take our departure without being Been by any per- 
 son." 
 " No, no !" said Edgworth Bess. " Look, look I" 
 She pointed down the staircase as she spoke. 
 Standing in the centre of the hall below, and only a 
 few feet distant from the foot of the stairs, her face dis- 
 torted and empurpled with mingled astonishment and 
 
 anger, was the conspicuous female — or Mother Itobo- 
 tuaro, as the young nobleman had called her. 
 
 When she saw the pair descending, she did not speak, 
 but her whole attention seemed to be absorbed in gazing 
 upon them. 
 
 Without wavering in the least, the young nobleman 
 commenced the descent. 
 
 It was quite clear that ho did not care much for Mother 
 Bobotham. 
 
 He held his head erect, and looked down haughtily and 
 threateningly upon her. 
 
 She did not seem to like the look of his face, but still 
 she did not speak, nor did she move an inch from the 
 position she occupied. 
 
 The hall in which sho stood was tolerably spacious a3 
 regarded width, but as her dimensions might truly be 
 termed herculean, and as her dress was disproportionately 
 distended with the stiffest of hoops, and as she had planted 
 herself directly in the centre of the passage, it was quite 
 clear that they could not pass without brushing her 
 apparel. 
 A contact was therefore inevitable. 
 In a moment or so the bottom of the staircase was 
 reached. 
 
 Still uhe never moved nor spoke, but her looks denoted 
 an accession of wrath. 
 
 The young nobleman did not seem disposed to be 
 hindered by her, or to allow her to obstruct his progress. 
 
 He raised his glittering rapier in a more threatening 
 manner than he had done hitherto, and, in a voice so stern 
 that Edgworth Bess scarcely recognised it, he said : 
 " Stand aside, woman !" 
 
 Trembling, and with difficulty preventing herself from 
 sinking to the ground, Edgworth Bess clung to his arm, 
 and no longer just rested upon it as she had done. 
 
 Mother Bobotham took not the least notice of the words 
 which had been addressed to her. 
 
 " Stand aside, woman !" cried the young nobleman, in 
 even sterner and more angry tones than before. " Stand 
 aside, I say, or you will have occasion to bitterly rue the 
 consequences !" 
 
 "Stand aside yourself!" at length replied Mother 
 Bobotham, fiercely, and exhibiting an amazonian dis- 
 position, which her appearance fully warranted. " This 
 is my house, not yours !" 
 
 " I grant that ; but you must allow me to pass." 
 " There is plenty of room for you !" retorted the woman, 
 significantly, and placing particular stress upon the last 
 word. 
 
 The young nobleman pretended not to notice it, and 
 walked on again. 
 
 Edgworth Bess trembled so excessively that she could 
 scarcely support her legs under her. 
 
 Two steps took them to where the woman was stand- 
 ing. 
 
 Another second and they would have passed her, but 
 ere they could do so she suddenly stretched out her hand 
 and grasped Edgworth Bess by her apparel. 
 
 A faint shriek came from her lips upon finding this 
 dreadful woman had placed her hand upon her. 
 
 With his eyes gleaming with rage, the young nobleman 
 turned upon her. 
 
 " Eclease your hold !" he said. 
 « I shall not !" 
 " You will not ?" 
 
 " I will not !" was the decided answer. 
 " It is well you are a female, or you would not have 
 dared deny my demands a second time. The respect I 
 have for you, however, is small. Beware, lest you tempt 
 me too far — lest I should forget your sex, and bestow 
 "ip^n you the punishment you deserve !" 
 
 Dufing this speech, Mother Bobotham remained im- 
 passable. 
 
 " I shall not release my hold !" she said, with greater 
 firmness even than before. " That which I grasp is my 
 cwn property, and I will not allow any of it to bo taken 
 out of my house !" a 'na 
 
 " Give me back my own ragged apparel !" 6aid Edg- 
 worth Bess, " and you shall have yours, and welcome '." 
 "Indeed !" said the woman, with a sneer. 
 "No, no !" exclaimed the young nobleman, " I will not 
 suffer this— it is monstrous ! Mother Bobotham, we have 
 had dealings before to-day— beware how you provoke 
 mel"
 
 62G 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " My lord," said Mother Robothain — for the first time 
 making known the young nobleman's title — " I am in 
 possession of secrets of yours which you would not like to 
 be made public. ! Beware how you provoke me ! I should 
 be sorry to do so ; but if you thwart me, I will disclose 
 all !" 
 
 "You presume to threaten, then ?" 
 
 "1 do, and I shall carry my threats into execution. 
 That young girl and the clothes she wears belong to 
 me." 
 
 ""Well, then," said the young nobleman, T7ho was evi- 
 dently deeply in the power of this infamous woman, or he 
 would not have made the degrading concession he did — 
 " well, then, if such is the case, the matter can bo easily 
 arranged between us. I have no desire to quarrel with 
 you." 
 
 " Nor I with you, so long as you don't interfere with 
 me." 
 
 " Come, then, Mother Robotham, let us consider this 
 matter as settled. You understand? We are friends. 
 This young lady leaves here under my protection. The 
 other particulars we can arrange at some more fitting 
 •pport unity." 
 
 1 ' As you like, my lord. If such is your determination, 
 I am agreeable; only, I warn you beforehand that the 
 price " 
 
 The young nobleman checked her in what she was 
 about to say by an exclamation of anger and impatience. 
 
 " Enough of this !" he cried. " The matter is ar- 
 ranged. Stand aside and let me pass !" 
 
 Sullenly and unwillingly, the woman obeyed, but it 
 seemed as though she had complied because she did not 
 know how to refuse. 
 
 Edgworth Bess gave a sigh of relief when she found 
 herself free from the hateful woman's touch. 
 
 What had just passed she only partially understood, 
 so greatly was she terrified, and, moreover, much that was 
 hinted at was past her comprehension. 
 
 Without further hindrance, they now made their way to 
 the hall door. 
 
 A sleepy-looking porter rose from the depths of his 
 easy-chair, and, opening the door, allowed them to pass 
 out. 
 
 Oh, how grateful did poor Edgworth Bess feel when the 
 cold night air played upon her fevered cheeks ! 
 
 Snow was falling, but very lightly. 
 
 It was whirled hither and thither by an eddying wind. 
 
 It must have been falling, however, for some time, for 
 the streets, and the trees, and all the buildings were quite 
 covered with it. 
 
 All was white. 
 
 It was a still night hour, and a strange hush was over 
 the sleeping city, which the snow seemed to produce. 
 
 The delightful feeling of coolness rapidly passed away, 
 and Edgworth Bess shuddered as the wintry blast swept 
 through her scanty clothing, for, though the dress she 
 wore was befitting a lady, yet it was never intended to 
 protect anyone against the inclemency of a winter's 
 night, 
 
 Edgworth Bess shivered, and looked with a feeling of 
 apprehensiveness in the young nobleman's countenance. 
 
 He seemed to be suffering deeply from vexation. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKTN OBTAIN AX UNEXPECTED 
 CLUE TO THE WHEREABOUTS OF EDGWORTH BESS. 
 
 The unprincipled tailor, who thought he had done such 
 a good thing for himself by selling the two suits of clothes 
 to two inebriated gentlemen, for the extravagant sum of 
 twenty guineas, was so taken aback by the suddenness 
 with which the events of the last few moments had taken 
 place, that_ he was unable to offer the least resistance to 
 Blueskin rifling his pockets. 
 
 Nor did he dare to speak, and scarcely even to breathe, 
 for fear the pistol should go off, and blow his brains 
 out. 
 
 The mortal terror which he suffered during the few 
 moments which Blueskin occupied in emptying his 
 pockets were almost an ample punishment for what he 
 had done. 
 
 It was a lesson that lasted Mm the remainder of his 
 life. 
 
 The manner in which Jack had 6poken convinced him 
 that his drunkenness was only feigned, though for wLat 
 purpose he had acted as he had done he had no idea. 
 
 The reader may be sure that our old friend did not need 
 to be told twice to empty the tailor's pockets. 
 
 I[o set about the execution of the task with hearty 
 good'rt-ill. 
 
 It was not the first time Blueskin had done such a job 
 as that, and the manner in which he cleared his pockets, 
 one after another, evinced what a practised hand he was. 
 
 While in the service of Jonathan Wild, he had had 
 plenty of practice in that sort of thing, and he had by no 
 means lost his dexterity through lapse of time. 
 
 In less than two moments, every article of value the 
 tailor possessed was transferred to his own pockets. 
 
 Not only did he get back the twenty guineas which 
 Jack had so recently paid him, but a large sum which was 
 carefully tied up in a leather bag. 
 
 Even the dread of the pistol exploding could not pre- 
 vent the tailor uttering a dismal groan. 
 
 The money that bag contained he had received only 
 that very day. 
 
 A customer who had given him no end of trouble to 
 collect his bill had paid him. 
 
 He had almost feared he should lose his money, from 
 the length of time the bill had remained due ; and now, 
 after the unexpected pleasure of receiving it, he found it 
 go entirely. 
 
 Blueskin had no pity upon him, however ; and, for our 
 own part, we cannot help thinking he richly deserved the 
 treatment he had received. 
 
 The idea of offering him any serious personal injury 
 never once entered their minds. 
 
 All they wished to do was to give him a thorough 
 fright, and in this they succeeded completely. 
 
 The tailor thought his last moment had surely come. 
 
 "I have done," said Blueskin, as he removed the last 
 article from the tailor's pocket. 
 
 "Bight!" said Jack. Then, turning to the tailor, he 
 added : 
 
 "Now, sir, run indoors, and if you are not upstairs before 
 I count three, I will fire after you, and chance the conse- 
 quences." 
 
 "Murder!" exclaimed the tailor, and he made a wild 
 kind of rush into the passage of the house in the direction 
 of the stairs. 
 
 Jack Sheppard did not wait to see whether he ascended 
 them or not, but slammed the front door shut iu a 
 moment. 
 
 "The coast is clear," said Bluesldn, who had looked 
 carefully up and down the dark, deserted street. " At 
 length we have baffled our foe." 
 
 "We have had a good deal of trouble in doing it," said 
 Jack, cheerfully ; "but never mind, old friend, we are free 
 at last." 
 
 Just as he spoke, they heard a window somewhere close 
 at hand thrown up with a prodigious clatter, and then a 
 voice, which they recognised as the tailor's, cried : 
 
 " Fire ! murder ! thieves ! watch ! watch ! Oh, mur- 
 der ! thieves ! thieves !" 
 
 The outciy was tremendous, and an alarm would soon be 
 general. 
 
 "We will get away from this place as soon as 'we can," 
 said Blueskin, " or we may even yet be interrupted." 
 
 " True, and though I fancy Jonathan must be some dis- 
 tance off, yet it is quite possible that he is lurking close at 
 hand." 
 
 " There is no dependence to be placed upon him ; he is 
 generally where he is least expected to be." 
 
 " Increase your speed, then, my friend. We will get 
 clear of this locality as quickly as we can." 
 
 " It will be best," said Blueskin, as he set off at a trot, 
 which Jack was easily enough able to keep up with. 
 
 In a very short time they got a considerable distance 
 from the scene of their last exploit, which had in every 
 respect been a most advantageous one. 
 
 They had got clear of their foes at a moment when they 
 were exceedingly hard pressed. They had obtained two 
 suits of clothes which made them a capital disguisement ; 
 and, into the bargain, they had received a very large sum 
 of money. 
 
 It is scarcely to be wondered at that tney now ex- 
 perienced a great elation of spirits. 
 
 No sooner, however, had the excitement of danger
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 527 
 
 passed away than the channel of Jack's thoughts was 
 once more directed to Edgworth Bess, from whom they 
 had been so long diverted. 
 
 As they reduced their speed to a walk, Jack said : 
 
 " Oh, Blueskin, my friend, now that we are safe, tell me 
 what I am to do to recover Edgworth Bess ! Alas — alas ! 
 how bitterly do I repent of having caused her to leave me !" 
 
 " Begrets on that score are quite useless, Jack ; and if 
 you will take my advice you will, before you attempt to 
 seek her, or even to decide upon what course of action you 
 shall adopt, turn in somewhere, and get that amount of 
 rest so necessary both to you and me, and indispensable, in 
 fact, to our success." 
 
 " I cannot but admit you are right ; and yet, my impa- 
 tience is so great " 
 
 " I can understand all that ; but do for once be guided 
 by me." 
 
 "I will. I had no intention of not doing so. I am 
 sure you must feel the effects of what we have gone 
 through during the last few hours most severely." 
 
 " I do — I do. My wound troubles me yet, and though 
 it is now nearly well, it has left a frightful weakness 
 behind it." 
 
 " No doubt — no doubt. I can judge of your feelings by 
 my own. I am entirely exhausted !" 
 
 " Then let us rest awhile. We have no choice in the 
 matter. Then, when our limbs no longer ache, as they do 
 at present, we will endeavour to hit upon some means of 
 discovering whereabouts the poor girl is." 
 
 " When I think of her forlorn and unprotected condition 
 —when I think of the dangers to which she is every hour 
 exposed — my brain whirls round, and I feel as though I 
 was going mad !" 
 
 " Then for the present let us drop that topic of conver- 
 sation, and turn our thoughts to something else. The 
 first and most important point, in my judgment, is the con- 
 sideration where we are likely to obtain a secure night's 
 shelter." 
 
 " Do you know this neighbourhood ?" 
 
 "Very slightly." 
 
 " Then you could not say where was a safe place ?" 
 
 "No, we must chanco that. Before we go much 
 further, we shall probably find a coffee-house open ; if so, 
 we shall have no difficulty in procuring a bed." 
 
 " I don't know that we can do better." 
 
 " Look around you, then ; we cannot possibly go far 
 without meeting with a house of the descriptioa men- 
 tioned." 
 
 As far as they could see, however, all was darkness — 
 from no house within view came forth a single gleam of 
 light. 
 
 They kept on, however, and paused before each turning 
 which they passed, and looked narrowly down it. 
 
 At length they perceived, some distance down a narrow 
 street that ran at right angles to the principal thorough- 
 fare, a feeble beam of light. 
 
 In the hope that this would lead them to what they 
 sought, they proceeded towards it. 
 
 They were not disappointed in their expectations. 
 
 The beam of light came from the window of a small 
 shop of obscure aspect, the exterior appearance of which, so 
 far as our friends could judge in the darkness, was not 
 very prepossessing. 
 
 But they were not in a position to be over particular. 
 
 Without hesitation our friends entered. 
 
 The shop was empty. 
 
 They sat down in one of the boxes near the door, and 
 asked for refreshment, for the pangs of hunger began to 
 make themselves felt now that their excitement had 
 passed away. 
 
 They were waited upon by a dirty, untidy girl, whose 
 personal appearance well accorded with the exterior of the 
 house. 
 
 A card affixed to one of the walls intimated that there 
 were "good beds " to let, and accordingly our two friends 
 made application, after having despatched the moal that 
 had been placed before them. 
 
 They were not very particular, it seemed, about appear- 
 ances, for the girl agreed immediately upon the stipulation 
 that the money was paid down beforehand. 
 
 This, of course, was no obstacle, aud they were con- 
 ducted to a bed-chamber. 
 
 Here they slept for several hours, and did not descend 
 until the evening of the next day was close at hand. 
 
 They remained in the coffee-room till dusk, judging it 
 would be too dangerous to venture out before. 
 
 As soon as the friendly darkness came, they sallied 
 forth. 
 
 Both had thoroughly washed themselves, and properly 
 adjusted their new clothing, so that they now presented 
 quite an ordinary appearance, and were not at all calcu- 
 lated to Gall forth the attention of anyone who passed 
 them in the street. 
 
 They now occupied themselves in devising some means 
 of discovering Edgworth Bess. 
 
 They could not help thinking, however, that their 
 search was a hopeless one. 
 
 They could think of no better plan than that of making 
 their way to tlw spot where the poor girl had disappeared, 
 and commencing their inquiries at this point, directing 
 them all round, and gradually increasing their range. 
 
 More than once they asked themselves whether she had 
 fallen into the hands of Jonathan Wild ; but, after a great 
 deal of consideration upon the subject, they came to tho 
 conclusion that she had not. 
 
 They supported this view of the case by the demeanour 
 of the thief-taker. 
 
 If he had had her in his possession, they were qitite of 
 opinion he would have acted rather differently towards 
 them. 
 
 They had then no clue whatever to direct them in thoir 
 search, though they hoped ere long to obtain one. 
 
 To reach the spot where he had last seen her was an 
 easy enough matter to Jack Sheppard, for that place was 
 continually before his mental vision. 
 
 Upon arriving here, they began in a very methodical 
 manner. 
 
 The whole night, however, was consumed without their 
 having been able to obtain the slightest scrap of informa- 
 tion to cheer them on to further efforts. 
 
 At length day dawned, and then for a time it becamo 
 necessary for them to relinquish their efforts. 
 
 They were compelled to remain out of sight during tho 
 daytime. 
 
 In this manner — searching by night, and resting and 
 sleeping by day — nearly a week elapsed, and the end 
 of that time saw them no nearer to their object than when 
 they commenced. 
 
 This was disheartening to a degree, but still they per- 
 severed, convinced that sooner or later they must obtain 
 some information which would turn their exertions in one 
 particular direction. 
 
 Still, day after day passing by Jin^this manner with no 
 result decreased their hopes. 
 
 What could have become of her ? 
 
 That was a question which they asked themselves a 
 thousand times, but always without being able to return 
 any reply. 
 
 Without our entering into any minute description, the 
 reader will doubtless be able to fomi a tolerably good idea 
 of the state of Jack's mind. 
 
 It bordered at times upon absolute frenzy. 
 
 At length, one evening, about the accustomed hour— 
 that is to say, just as it was growing dusk — they descended 
 from the chamber in which they had passed the night to 
 the coffee-room on the ground floor, where they partook 
 of a meal while waiting for the dusky twilight to deepen 
 into darkness. 
 
 They were in the neighbourhood of Westminster. 
 
 In the box before them two men were seated. 
 
 They were attired in great coats, with a number of 
 capes, such as were worn by coachmen, or the drivers of 
 hackney carriages. 
 
 They were talking in rather a loud tone of voioe to each 
 other, and sitting so close to them as Jack and Blueskin 
 were, they could not avoid overhearing every word. 
 
 At first they listened indifferently, but presently became 
 deeply interested in the conversation which was taking 
 place. 
 
 " Of course, Bill," said one, " driving a hackney am't 
 what it used to was." 
 
 " You are right there." 
 
 "But still, as I said before, very 'strornary things 
 happens sometimes. Now, I tell you one thing wot's 
 hung on my mind ever since it happened, and I can't get 
 rid of it nohow." 
 
 "Was it very 'strornary, then ?" 
 
 " Oh, very 'strornary indeed, as you'll say when 1 tells
 
 528 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 you. It's as nigh a week ago as possible — leastways, it 
 ain't no less, and it can't be much more— as I was sitting 
 on the box of my coach, waiting for a fare, and thinking 
 of nothing at all, I prezenly sees at the corner of the 
 street a very 'stromary-looMng old 'oman. As soon as 
 Bhe twigged me she hiked her hand, which I understood 
 to mean as how she wanted a coach. So I woke the old 
 hosses up, and roiled up to where she stood. I was jest 
 pulling up to the kerb, close to which she was, when sez 
 she, 'Don't stop here, but foller me round the corner.' 
 • All right, mum,' sez I, and I faked the horses up again, 
 and turned round the corner into a quiet street ; and now 
 comes the 'strornary part of the bizness !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXII. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD AKRIVE AT TIIE HOUSE 
 IN SPRING GARDENS. 
 
 The hackney-coachman paused to take another draught 
 of coffee, for talking dried his mouth, and Jack Sheppard 
 and Blueskin, with a strong feeling of interest, leaned 
 forward on their hands and listened with increased intent- 
 ness. 
 
 The coachman's companion, too, seemed greatly in- 
 terested by this narrative, and he waited impatiently for 
 his comrade to resume. 
 
 " Now, Bill, as I said afore, this here's the 'strornary 
 part of the bizness. I follers this rummy old 'oman 
 round the corner. She only goes a yard or two, and then 
 stops before a house. In coorse I pulled up, and then I 
 saw, a-sitting on a door-step, one of the prettiest little 
 girls as ever I saw in my life. Sez I to myself, ' Summat's 
 in the wind, Joe ; keep your blessed eyes open.' ' Don't 
 bo afraid !' sez myself to I. Well, this here old 'oman, 
 whose dress had as many bright colours in it as a drop of 
 oil a-floating on the top of a puddle of water — this Lore 
 old 'oman goes up to the door-step, and stops before this 
 here little gal — leastways, she wasn't so very little, but 
 she wasn't nowhere near as big as oruc Bet. How- 
 somdever, that's neither here nor there, ana nas nothing 
 to do with the ' 'strornary bizness.' " 
 " Cut along, then, Joe — let 's hear it !" 
 "Don't be impatient. Well, this pretty young glarl as I 
 was a-telling you about, wot was a-sitting down upon the 
 door-step, wasn't dressed noways according to her beauty. 
 Her clothes was very ragged. I don't know whether I 
 told you before, but she seemed to be in a kind of a faint 
 or a swound, or summat of that sort, for the old 'oman 
 opened her " ridicule " and takes out a little bottle. Then 
 she pulls the stopper out, and holds it just under the gal's 
 nose, who opens her eyes and looks about her as though she 
 didn't know where she was. Well, atween us, we got the 
 gal into the coach ; but as soon as she sat down on the 
 seat she seemed to go off into a swound again. Howsom- 
 dever, I didn't say nothing, but shuts the door. ' Spring 
 Gardens !' sez the old 'oman. Now, what do you think 
 of that, Bill ? Blest if I could'nt have chucked a stone 
 on to the veiy place !" 
 "Go on, Joe!" 
 
 "I'm a-going! Well, in coorse I was obliged to drive 
 where she directed, but I smelt something 'strornary ; so 
 I thought I should have a downright good fare. So, when 
 I got to Spring Gardens, I jumps off the box, opens the 
 door, and helps them out. Well, this here gal had fainted 
 again ; so I picked her up, and carried her up the steps to 
 the front door of the house, where they took her off me. 
 Well, when I had done this, how much do you think the 
 old 'oman gave me ? You'll never guess, so I'll tell you. 
 It was rive bob!" 
 
 44 That's just what I expected." 
 
 44 Well, I tell you, I expected a good deal more, but I 
 didn't got it. I grumbled, and cussed, and swore, but that 
 didn't do no good, and in the end I was obliged to give in 
 and be off. When I drove away from that there house, I 
 thought to myself, ' Now, there'stsoniething 'strornary in all 
 this, only I can't just make iftout. I wonder wtlo that 
 
 fal was ? — such a pretty gal as that belongs to somebody, 
 know, and I wonder what that old 'oman wants to take 
 her to that house for ? — no good, that's clear.' Well, do 
 you know, Bill, this here gal stuck in my mind, and I 
 couldn't get rid of her nohow, so I thought I would make 
 «om» inquiries about this fine-looking house in Spring 
 
 Gardens, and at last I found out all about it. Now, what 
 do you think that houso was ?" 
 " I don't know, Joe." 
 
 " Lean over the table, and I'll whisper it in your ear." 
 Something was then said in a low tone of voice, but 
 what it was, Jack and Blueskin could not tell, though they 
 strained their ears to the utmost. 
 
 Whatever it was, seemed to surprise the man who had 
 been called Bill by his companion. 
 
 Our friends, however, determined to know more, and 
 that at once. 
 
 Just as they came to this conclusion, the two men left 
 the coffee-shop. 
 
 Jack and Blueskin rose too, immediately, and followed 
 them out. 
 
 The one who had told the 'strornary narrative, as he 
 called it, was removing the nose-bags from his horses' 
 heads, for his coach was waiting outside the door. 
 His companion was similarly engaged. 
 Our friends hailed the former, and, with a bow, he came 
 towards them. 
 
 Blueskin addressed him : 
 
 " I want to have a few words with you, my friend, and 
 I think it is very likely I shall be able to put you in the 
 way of earning a guinea." 
 
 The man's eyes sparkled, and he became all attention in 
 a moment. 
 
 " I heard you telling your companion about a circum- 
 stance that happened to you a short time ago." 
 
 " Yes, sir ; and a very 'strornary circumstance it were, 
 too!" 
 
 " So I think, and I feel much interested in it. Look- 
 here is the guinea !" and, as he spoke, Blueskin drew tin 
 coin mentioned from his pocket, and held it up to the 
 inspection of the hackney-coachman. 
 
 " You shall have this," he continued, "if you will tell 
 me the number of the house in Spring Gardens, and what 
 it was you found out about it." 
 " Tip us the quid, your honour ! The number was 57." 
 "57?" 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And the house ?" 
 
 "Why, the house is what they call a house of accom- 
 modation for West-end swells. Do you twig my flower of 
 langwidge ?" 
 
 " Good heavens !" exclaimed Jack. " Can it be pos- 
 sible ? My worst fears are more than confirmed !" 
 
 The hackney-coachman looked rather surprised at this 
 speech, and he said : 
 
 " Well, this is 'strornary ! If I don't believe you belong 
 to that gal !" 
 
 "We do, wo do — I am sure we do !" 
 The coachman gave a long whistle. 
 " Then I am sorry for you, for that there house is one 
 of the awfullest dens in all London !" 
 
 " Stay, stay ! Describe this young girl you have men- 
 tioned !" 
 
 The coachman did so, and then no doubt remained in 
 their minds that it was Edgworth Bess of whom he spoke. 
 Jack's despair was terrible. 
 
 In his darkest moments he had never anticipated any- 
 thing so bad as this. 
 
 "Well, blest if I didn't think something more would 
 come of this affair!" ejaculated the cabman ; "and 1 am 
 very glad being as how you have found me out, 'cause I'll 
 do the best for you I can !" 
 
 " Drive us to this house — drive us there at once, and I 
 will level it to the ground if they have injured one hair of 
 her head !" 
 
 "Now, my youug friend, don't you be violent and 
 hasty. You 'had much better listen to what I have to 
 say." 
 
 "Speak!" said Blueskin, who was much calmer than 
 his companion ; "speak! No doubt you can give us im- 
 portant information and advice. If you do so, you may 
 rely upon being well recompensed." 
 
 " Thank you, sir. I take it you belongs to this here 
 pretty young gal?" 
 " Yes, yes !" 
 
 " And in coorse you are much put about to think she 
 has got into such hands as those of Mother Eobotham ?" 
 "Who?" 
 
 " Didn't I tell you ?" 
 "No!"
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 =; \ 
 
 m 
 
 EDQWORTH BESS TAKES A FRANTIC LEAP INTO THE RIVER. 
 
 " Well, then, Mother Robotham's the name of the old 
 'Oman I have been talking about." 
 
 " Go on — I understand." 
 
 " I say you would be glad enough to get her out of such 
 hands, of coorse, but you must be very careful, or you will 
 never do it. You must use no violence ; if you do, you 
 will never succeed. You must take 'em all by surprise." 
 
 " I understand." 
 
 "You must get into the house and get her out of it 
 without the blessed old 'oman being aware of what you 
 are arter. If you talk of levelling the house to the ground, 
 you'll do no good at alL" 
 
 " You shall be well paid for this !" 
 
 "All right, yer honour! Of coorse, my time is my 
 taoney." 
 
 " To be sure ; and I think you will find your time was 
 never of such value to you before." 
 
 The coachman's eyes sparkled witl' pleasure 
 
 " Then you take my advice?" 
 
 ••Certainly!" 
 No. 67. 
 
 " I know the young gal's there, and you will get into 
 the house on the sJy " 
 
 "Just so; you leave that part of the business to 
 me." 
 
 " All right, sir, only I should just like to know that we 
 understand each other. You will then try to bring this 
 young girl away without kicking up a rumpus." 
 
 " That is our intention, though it would not be a trifle 
 that would keep us back." 
 
 " Well, then," said the coachman, " I'll tell you what 
 had better be done." 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " In the first place, if you will get into the coach, I wiQ 
 drive you to Spring Gardens. It won't take two 
 minutes." 
 
 "Agreed." 
 
 " Well, when we are there, 1 will show you the house, 
 and leave you to get into it. In the meantime, I'll wait 
 about with the coach, and when you come out, I shall he 
 readv waiting. You cin put her inside the coach, jjut it 
 
 No. 67.
 
 630 
 
 BLUESKI&: A fe'^MNCE. 
 
 yourselves, and off we should be before they knew where 
 they were." 
 
 " That arrangement suits me very well," said Blueskin. 
 " I should think this is not the first job of the sort you 
 Lave had to do with." 
 
 " Well, that's neither here nor there, you know. I might 
 and I might not ; but if a hackney-coachman was to tell 
 all his history, it would be as strange a one as ever was 
 listened to." 
 
 " No doubt — no doubt ! But we are ready now. We 
 will get in." 
 
 " All right, and you will find yourself at Spmg Gar- 
 dens before you lcnow where you are." 
 
 " The sooner the better." 
 
 As they 6poke, Jack and Blueskin got into tho hackney 
 coach. 
 
 The driver ascended the box, and the cumbrous but 
 comfortable vehicle was set in motion. 
 
 Jack was so overcome by the disastrous intelligence 
 they had so unexpectedly received, that up to the present 
 moment he had felt himself unable to command his voice 
 sufficiently to speak. 
 
 Now, however, he endeavoured to address his faithful 
 comrade. 
 
 " Oh, Blueskin !" he exclaimed, " this news is of a far 
 more dreadful character than I anticipated ! I shudder, 
 and my blood runs cold in my veins, when I think of 
 what may have happened." 
 
 " Do not distress yourself too much. Things may not 
 be so bad as they appear ; though, goodness knows, what 
 we have heard is bad enough !" 
 
 " Oh, it is horrible ! Never — never did I think of her 
 being menaced with such a fate ! Better — on, better 
 would it have been had she fallen into the hands of the 
 thief-taker himself !" 
 
 ".Come, come — calm yourself ! If you do not, we shall 
 stand but a poor chance of success. Control your emo- 
 tions, I pray you ; in a minute or two more we shall reach 
 the house." 
 
 Jack shuddered, but was silent. 
 
 "This man," continued Blueskin, " whom I consider it 
 very lucky we have met with, has mapped out a capital 
 plan of proceeding, and I cannot myself see how it could 
 be improved. He does not know, though, what an easy 
 thing it would be for us to enter a house. That part of 
 the business will be attended with very little difficulty, I 
 fancy." 
 
 " We can do that ; but when we find her " 
 
 "Let us hope for the best," said Blueskin; "it caa do 
 no harm, and things may turn out much better than we 
 have dared to anticipate." 
 
 " I can see no room for hope." 
 
 "Come, come — do not be so cast down ! It may bb— ^ld 
 I f ervently hope that such may prove the C3se — that/we may 
 be fortunate enough to arrive at a moment when she has 
 most need of our presence. Who can tell ? Once more, 
 Jack, let me advise you to hope for the best." 
 
 " 1 will try to do so," said Jack, who was somewhat en- 
 couraged and reassured by the view which his companion 
 took of the case. 
 
 In the meantime, the coach rumbled on, until at length 
 it pulled up with a jerk. 
 
 Before they could open the door, the driver had descended 
 from his box, and stood at the door. 
 
 "I haven't driven up to the door of the house," he said, 
 " because I don't want to excite suspicion ; but if you will 
 get [down here, I will show you the house where the old 
 'oman took the young gal." 
 
 Our friends were well pleased to observe this fiesh 
 instance of the driver's acuteness, and they alighted in a 
 moment. 
 
 " I will just slip the nose-bags on the hosses — I sha'n't 
 be a minute — and then, when I have done that, I shall be 
 able to leave them — they won't move while they are 
 eating." 
 
 To this they consented, and it was accordingly done. 
 
 The coachman then walked a little distance, and crossed 
 over tho road, being all the time closely followed by Blue- 
 skin and Jack, who were anxious in the extreme to see 
 this house. 
 
 He paused close to |the railings in front of a mansion, 
 the appearance of which was in every respect first-class. 
 
 It would not have disgraced any gentleman to have 
 taken up his residence in such an abode. 
 
 C or two friends were much surprised at the magnificence 
 of it, and they almost felt inclined to doubt the truth of 
 what the coachman had told them. 
 
 "Are you sure," said Blueskin, "that it was to this 
 mansion that you drove the woman you have described?" 
 
 " I am quite certain of it. I told you tho number was 
 57. Step this way, and I will show it to you on the door ; 
 there is a lamp which will enable you to see it." 
 
 As he spoke, the coachman crept on until ho was on 
 a level with the front door. 
 
 There was a lamp over it, and this cast a tolerably 
 bright fight around. 
 
 By the aid of this, and assisted a little by their imagi- 
 nation, since they had been told what figures were on the 
 door, they perceived the number. 
 
 It was 57. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXIII. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS INDIGNANTLY REJECTS THE YOUNG 
 nobleman's INSIDIOUS PROPOSAL. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, although, as we have said, she did not 
 comprehend the scene which had just taken place between 
 the young nobleman and that singular specimen of femi- 
 nine humanity, Mother Robotham, still could not but be 
 aware that the vexation so palpably visible, not only 
 in the looks, but also in the whole demeanour of him who 
 stood by her side, proceeded solely from what had taken 
 place between them. 
 
 There was much in what had passed which Edgworth 
 Bess would at no time have understood ; but, labouring 
 under such excitement and terror as she was, it was nearly 
 all incomprehensible to her. 
 
 She was clearly conscious of but one fact only, and that 
 was, that she was free from' the precincts of that dreadful 
 house, the recollection of which would to her be always a 
 thing of horror. 
 
 She was free. 
 
 She had escaped those frightful dangers with which she 
 had been menaced ; she was safe from the clutches of that 
 hideous female, Mother Robothani. 
 
 Can we be surprised, then, that her heart overflowed 
 with gratitude to her young preserver for all that he had 
 done on her behalf ? 
 
 She felt annoyed to think she had been the cause of the 
 vexation which now filled his mind. 
 
 Timidly, then, and with a slight shiver as the keen 
 wintry blast swept past her, she looked up into his coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 That this young nobleman had committed himself in 
 some way or other, and was in the power of Mother 
 Robotham, the reader need scarcely be told. 
 
 He will have surmised as much, as well as the nature of 
 the secret which gave her power over him. 
 
 It was not, perhaps, the knowledge of this unpleasant 
 fact which produced the effect described, so much as tho 
 mortification he could not help experiencing at the thought 
 that the exposure should have been made in the presence 
 of the young girl who had so confidingly placed herself 
 under his protection, and in whose eyes he doubtless 
 wished to appear to as much advantage as possible. 
 
 This was the reflection which pressed heavily upon his 
 mind when Edgworth Bess gave that furtive glance into 
 his countenance, and noted its expression. 
 
 The young nobleman observed this glance, and his 
 mortified feeling increased. 
 
 He was conscious that he appeared in a despicable fight, 
 and that his presence in that house, and the woman's 
 demeanour towards him, redounded little to his credit. 
 
 A strange thrill 6hot through his heart when the poor 
 girl glanced up at him. 
 
 3 he had made a deep impression upon a heart whoso 
 greatest fault was a too keen susceptibility of female 
 loveliness. 
 
 The form ana features of Edgworth Bess could only 
 dimly bo discerned in the darkness of tho street, but the 
 light which came from the oil lamp over the door, and tho 
 reflection which 6eemed to come from the white surface of 
 the snow upon the ground, revealed sufficient of both to 
 recall forcibly to his mind the appearance which she pre- 
 sented when in the brilliantly-lighted chamber in which 
 their strange interview had taken place. 
 I And that he should have been thus impressed with the
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 531 
 
 personal appearance of our fair heroine is not to be sur- 
 prised at. 
 
 Never in her life had her charms been exhibited to such 
 advantage. 
 
 Her costume was magnificent and rich in the extreme, 
 and the varying emotions which swayed her mind during 
 the whole of the conversation imparted to her cheeks a 
 lovely crimson glow, and to her eyes a brilliancy which 
 made the diamonds the young nobleman wore about his 
 person appear dulL 
 
 To him she seemed the loveliest being in the form of 
 woman he had ever in his life beheld. 
 
 It was the deference which her beauty exacted that 
 prompted him to treat her as he had done since their ex- 
 planation, but it was the desire of obtaining this lovely 
 creature for himself which made him so solicitous to re- 
 move her from that house. 
 
 And thus we see that, generous and noble as his con- 
 duct appeared, he was in reality actuated by e, selfish a«d 
 ignoble feeling. 
 
 In a low voice he addressed her. 
 
 "At last," he said, "we are free from that hoafl©, r,'*# 
 you can go now in whatever direction you may think 
 proper." 
 
 " Oh, my lord," exclaimed Edgworth Bess, in tones of 
 fervent gratitude — "for such I hear is your title — how 
 can I utter thanks sufficient to repay you for the ines- 
 timable service you have rendered me ? I shudder and 
 turn pale when I think of the frightful peril from which 
 you have snatched me, anV feel altogether incompetent of 
 expressing my gratitude." 
 
 " Say no more — say no uore upon that point, I beg. 
 What I have done, I have done willingly enough, and I 
 take shame to myself for having behaved towards you as 
 I did." 
 
 " That was because we were both deceived," said Edg- 
 worth Bess. " Fain would I erase from my mind all 
 recollection of the unpleasant topic." 
 
 " Generous girl, I can see you are willing to extenuate 
 my unworthy conduct ! But I will listen to no such 
 extenuation. I say again, I take shame to myself for 
 having acted towards you as I have, and all that I have 
 since done I hope you will look upon rs some kind of 
 reparation." 
 
 "If it pleases you, my lord, I am willing to look upon 
 it in that light ; but I can never forget the service you 
 have done me !" 
 
 " It gives me pleasure to listen to your thanks, although 
 I am convinced that I do not deserve them. I see, now, 
 the ground is covered with snow, and a keen wind 
 whistles through the street. It was thoughtless of me to 
 remain speaking to you here. Tell me, to what place of 
 shelter can I conduct you?" 
 
 These words pierced the heart of poor Edgworth Bess. 
 
 She knew not what to say. 
 
 Upon the spur of the moment she was unable to name 
 any place of refuge and security to which she could be 
 escorted. * 
 
 In a voice of extreme agitation, she replied : 
 
 " Nay, nay, my lord ! I cannot suffer you to trouble 
 yourself any more about a poor girl like myself- Already I 
 feel under the weight of too much obligation to you, and 
 cannot consent that the load should be increased." 
 
 " Do not, I pray you, look upon what I have done in 
 6uch a light as that. Besides, you must be aware that at 
 night the streets of London are scarcely safe for anyoni 
 to walk in, and least of all for a young girl like yourself. 
 I must, therefore, insist upon not quitting you until I have 
 succeeded in restoring you to your friends. It is my duty 
 to see you to some place of safety." 
 
 The young nobleman proceeded thus far in his speech 
 because the agitation of Edgworth Bess was so extreme 
 that she was unable to command her voice so as to inter- 
 rupt him. 
 
 "Let me entreat you," she at length exclaimed — "Jet 
 me entreat you, by what you have already done, nottopresf, 
 this point upon me. Leave me here, I beseech you. I am 
 not afraid of encountering danger in the streets." 
 
 " With any other request uttered by you, I should most 
 certainly comply, because I should not be able to deny you 
 anything ; but in the present instance I must be firm. I 
 cannot allow you to rush blindly into this fresh peril." 
 
 " Oh, my lord, you distress me — indeed you do !" 
 
 "Distress you?'' 
 
 "Yes — yes!" 
 
 " I do not understand." 
 
 "* Do not — pray do not press me for an explanation !" 
 Calm yourself, my dear girl — calm yourself ! There 
 is tio necessity for this agitation." 
 
 "You know not, nor would I have you know for 
 worlds !'* 
 
 "Yon speak in riddles." 
 
 "No matter. Let us part here." 
 
 " Never !" 
 
 " My lord, I renew my request. Let us part here." 
 
 " I cannot consent to it." 
 
 "You must — you must! Farewell, my lord! For all 
 that you have done, believe me I am most deeply grateful, 
 and should I live a hundred years, I shall never forget 
 you or the peril which I have luckily escaped through 
 your intervention. Farewell, my lord ! Say farewell to 
 me, and we will part, for that we shall ever meet again is 
 scarcely probable." 
 
 ''Nay, nay, I will never consent to such a separation !" 
 and as he spoke the young nobleman grasped the poor 
 girl's hand so tightly that she was unable to extricate it. 
 " It is impossible that we can part like this. I cannot 
 consent to it. For your own good, I implore you to tell 
 me to what place I can escort you. Where is your 
 home ?" 
 
 "My home!" mournfully ejaculated Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Her companion did not seem to understand what the 
 tone of her voice implied, for he continued : 
 
 "Fear not to tell me," he said. "I pledge you my 
 word of honour as a gentleman that I will take you in 
 safety to your own door." 
 
 " I do not doubt you," said Edgworth Bess, her voice 
 half suffocated with tears. " There was no need for you 
 to have given me your last assurance." 
 
 " Nevertheless, I repeat it." 
 
 " There is no need to do so." 
 
 " Once more let me entreat you to tell me, where is your 
 home ?" 
 
 "It is impossible." 
 
 " Impossible ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " I do not understand you." 
 
 " I say, my lord, it is impossible, and do not press me 
 further." 
 
 " I see it all now. You are agitated and excited, and 
 scarcely conscious of what you are saying." 
 
 " Not so, my lord." 
 
 " Yon are much agitated." 
 
 " 1 admit that." 
 
 " Then calm yourself." 
 
 " I shall be calm the moment you cease to press mo 
 upon this topic. It is from this cause alone that my 
 agitation proceeds." 
 
 " You bewilder me. I know not what to think. Can 
 it be possible " 
 
 "What, my lord?" 
 
 "Pardon me if I offend you by speaking my thoughts, 
 but " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " From what you have said, and the manner you have 
 spoken, I am driven to the conclusion that you have no 
 home." 
 
 A gasping sob from the young girl's breast, was his 
 reply. 
 
 " Ah !" he cried ; " I see now that I have pained, and 
 perhaps offended you." 
 
 « No — no ! — believe me, you have not. It is best, how- 
 ever, that you should know the truth. You are righ ; in 
 your conjecture — I have no home." 
 
 " No home ? Good heavens ! What am I to think ? 
 What is your future purpose ? Whither was it that you 
 intended to go ?" 
 
 " I know not." 
 
 " Know not ?" he repeated in accents of surprise. " Oh, 
 listen to me — hear what I have to say !" 
 
 " I am compelled to listen, my lord." 
 
 " These words are intended as a reproach. It is true 
 that by retaining your hand in my grasp I keep you here 
 against your will, but I do so for your own good. Listen, 
 then ! Discard from your thoughts all idea of leaving me. 
 Believe me, I both can and will provide you with a home, 
 and such a one as you might feel proud to have. I have 
 rank and I have wealth— I am uncontrolled in my actions
 
 332 
 
 BLUESKW : A ROMANCE. 
 
 — I am in no way fettered. Ponder, then, upon my 
 
 proposal " 
 
 " Enough — enough, my lord ! For the sake of the good 
 opinion which 1 have formed of you, la it us part here — 
 now, at once — and say no more I Our ^isths lie in oppo- 
 site directions !" 
 
 "Not so, by heavens! — not so!" exclaimed the young 
 man, vehemently. " Abandon from this moment the rash 
 resolution which you have formed. I am convinced it is 
 impossible that you have reflected upon the consequences 
 of such a step." 
 
 " There needs no reflection." 
 
 "Indeed there does — serious, grave reflection— and 
 there it is that you fall into a mistake. You know not — 
 dream not of the danger which will assail you. That 
 from which you have so providentially escaped will sink 
 into insignificance by comparison. Peril will await you 
 at every step you take !" 
 
 " No matter — I am resolved !" 
 
 " Do not be so hasty, but hear me out. Would it not 
 be much wiser upon your part to comply with the propo- 
 sition I was about to make when you interrupted 
 xne ?" 
 
 " My lord " 
 
 " Nay, let me speak !" 
 
 " Do you wish to forfeit my good opinion, and undo all 
 the good you have achieved ?" 
 
 "lam not afraid of that. Once more I ask you to listen 
 to me. You have no home — you have confessed that. 
 From this it is only fan - to infer that you have no rela- 
 tives. You are, then, alone |in the world. To a young 
 girl, what position in life could be more forlorn and 
 wretched? None, and nothing but misery will await 
 you. That is one side of the case ; and now attend to the 
 other. I have had the good fortune to do you a service — 
 to occupy, indeed, the enviable situation of your pro- 
 tector. I have freed you froni one danger — I am willing 
 to stand between you and all others. I desire lo place 
 you where peril will no longer have the power to reach 
 you. You have no home — I will provide you with one. 
 You have no relatives — I will supply their place. With 
 your kind consent, I will be aE in all to you ! That is my 
 proposal. > I will not press you for any reply to it now. 
 I am willing to allow you as much time as you think 
 proper to reflect upon the matter, and weigh it carefully 
 in your miud. For the present, however, I must Insist 
 upon placing you in some place of security. To leave you 
 here in the street a prey to all lands of disaster and with- 
 out the least chance of seeing you again is impossible ! 
 Come, then ! Let me place you in safety. Your decision 
 I will ask you for at some future opportunity, when you 
 are less agitated than you are at present. Come !" 
 
 As he spoke, he attempted to lead the young girl along 
 the street, but she resolutely refused to stir. 
 
 The long speech which we have set down was uttered 
 with 'extreme rapidity, and with such impetuosity that, 
 though Edgworth Bess strove to interrupt him twice or 
 thrice, she failed to do so. He continued, heedless of 
 what she said, and some strange kind of fascination seemed 
 to compel her to listen to all he said. 
 
 When he ceased the charm was broken, and the attempt 
 he made to lead her forward roused her into action. 
 
 "Release me, my lord!" she cried in tones of grrat 
 decision. " Release me ! Two persons so widely different 
 as we are can, I am convinced, have nothing iD common 
 with honour to myself. Your proposal I reject! Once 
 more I thank you for what you have done ! Once more I 
 demand to be released ! Farewell !" 
 
 As she uttered this last word, Edgworth Bess succeeded 
 by a sudden movement in disengaging her I_""Vnd. 
 
 No sooner did she feel herself at liberty, than she darted 
 off with the speed of the wind, and in a moment was lost 
 to view. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXFv. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS ONCE MORE FINDS HERSELF FRIENDLESS 
 ALONE, AND UNPROTECTED, IN THE STREETS OF LONDON. 
 
 Frantically did the young nobleman call after Edgworth 
 Bess, and implore her to return. 
 
 She heeded not his cries. 
 
 Intent only upon escaping from them, she flitted over 
 the snow-covered ground like a spirit 
 
 He lost no time in commencing a pursuit, but he soon 
 abandoned it. 
 
 The young girl once lost to view, he knew full well that 
 it would be madness to attempt to overtake her. 
 Breathlessly did Edgworth Bess continue on her course. 
 She did not stop to listen — she did not pause to look 
 behind her. 
 
 She felt convinced that she was pursued, and this con- 
 viction gave her strength to run with great rapidity. 
 
 But at length exhausted breath and failing limbs com- 
 pelled her to stop. 
 
 Fearfully and tremblingly she came to a halt, and looked 
 about her. 
 All was still. 
 
 No human being was in sight. 
 No sound broke upon the deathlike stillness. 
 Entirely overcome, she sat down upon the snow, nor 
 did she rise until several minutes had passed away. 
 
 T nocent as she was, and favourably disposed as she 
 fj- 4) >vards the young nobleman, yet she could not closo 
 k- eyes to the true meaning of the proposition ho had 
 made to her. 
 
 Pained and grieved at this instance of baseness in one 
 who she thought to find all honour, she had felt herself 
 suddenly endowed with strength sufficient to enable her 
 to release herself from his detaining grasp. 
 
 How thankful she felt when at length she rose from the 
 spot where she had fallen ! 
 
 She had been preserved from two tei-rible dangers that 
 night, and she shuddered as she wondered to what new 
 peril she should now be exposed. 
 
 Desirous, however, of placing as great a distance as 
 possible, not only between herself and the young noble- 
 man, but also between herself and that ill-omened house 
 in Spring Gardens, she hurried onward. 
 
 Growing now somewhat calmer, and less apprehensive 
 that someone was following her, she slackened her speed 
 soon afterwards, and looked about her. 
 • As before, her eyes and ears convinced her that no one 
 was pursuing her. 
 
 She then glanced up at the houses, but did not recognise 
 them. 
 
 Keeping on steadily, she soon saw before her the dim 
 outlines of a large building, which, after gazing at it for a 
 little while, she found was Westminster Abbey. 
 This «ave her a clue to her whereabouts, 
 burning to the left, she proceeded over Westminstei 
 Bridge. 
 
 Not the present elegant structure, but the one which 
 preceded it. 
 
 One remarkable and often-described feature in this 
 bridge was that on either side, at certain distances, were 
 recesses of a semi-dome-like shape, and fitted with seats. 
 
 Edgworth Bess passed by the first of these ; but upon 
 coming to the second, she resolved to seat herself on it, and 
 rest awhile, for she was terribly fatigued. 
 Accordingly she did so. 
 But she felt the cold most acutely. 
 Not only was it a most inclement night, but her clothes 
 were scanty, and a chill water-wind blew off the river. 
 She shivered like one in an ague fit. 
 How long she sat there she knew not. 
 Occasionally persons passed like spectres over the bridge, 
 as the snow was now sufficiently deep to deaden the sound 
 of footsteps. 
 At length that gloomy winter's night passed away. 
 Day broke. 
 
 The bridge nowbecame every moment more and more 
 thronged with people. 
 
 Now that daylight was fast approaching, Edgworth 
 Bess left her resting-place. 
 
 Her limbs were cramped and stiff with sitting in the 
 cold, but still she did not feel quite so much fatigued. 
 
 With a somewhat lighter heart, and with a brisker tread, 
 she continued her way over the bridge. 
 
 She soon discovered, however, that her appearance 
 attracted universal attention ; and that it should do so was 
 a fact scarcely to be wondered at. 
 
 To see a female, attired a# she was, walking the streets 
 only an hour or so after daybreak was a spectacle which 
 the inhabitants of Westminster had never before beheld. 
 
 Taking little apparent notice of this, Edgworth Bess I 
 continued on her way, terribly puzzled and perplexed as 
 to what would be the best thing for her to do.
 
 BUTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 wn 
 
 6he by no means wished to attract such universal atten- 
 tion as she did. 
 
 On the contrary, she would fain have crept along the 
 streets without being noticed by a single human being. 
 
 That it was the extraordinary style of her dress that 
 excited curiosity, and directed all eyes towards her, she 
 felt certain ; but she did not know how to get rid of it. 
 
 Sho had no money — not so much as the smallest 
 coin. 
 
 How, then, she asked herself, could she possibly purchase 
 a change of apparei ? 
 
 This was a question she could not solve. 
 
 She was forced to continue onwards as she was. 
 
 At length, on passing down a street she saw a shop, 
 the shutters of which had been taken down, and a boy 
 was busily occupied in hanging np various artkles ei 
 second-hand apparel. 
 
 She hesitated as she passed this shop, and after going a 
 few steps farther came to a halt. 
 
 After a moment's deliberation, she resolved to turn 
 back, and try whether she could procure what she wanted 
 at this shop. 
 
 She felt timid and frightened, but really there was no 
 occasion for it. 
 
 She paused again before the shop, and at las*, with an 
 effort of desperation 1 followed the boy in on one of the occa- 
 sions when he entered for a fresh supply of clothes to 
 hang up. 
 
 Owing to the window and door being covered with 
 garments, the interior of this shop was very dark indeed ; 
 but still Bess was able to see a woman who was standing 
 behind the counter. 
 
 With that peculiar accent and pronunciation which 
 denote the children of Israel, this woman inquired her 
 business. 
 
 She spoke respectfully, for this Jew woman's eyes were 
 used to the gloomy obscurity of the shop, and she could 
 see that the clothing worn by her early customer was such 
 as befitted a duchess. 
 
 It was some time before Edgworth Bess could make 
 known her wishes ; but at length, in a faint and tremulous 
 voice, she said : 
 
 " I want a change of dress !" 
 
 She would have said more, but was unable to command 
 her voice to steadiness. 
 
 "All right, my tear," said the woman ; " you have come 
 to the right shop and no mishtake! Whash is it you 
 would like to have ?" 
 
 " I have no money !" said Edgworth Bess. 
 
 "No monish, eh?" said the woman, with a decided 
 change in her voice and manner; "but perhaps," she 
 added, brightening up at the fresh idea and renewed hope 
 of doing business, " perhaps you have got monish worth ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes !" cried Edgworth Bess, eagerly. 
 
 " Well, whash have you got to offer in exchange ?" 
 
 "There is this dress," said the poor girl ; " look, it is a 
 costly one, and made of the best materials. I want you to 
 give me a common one in the place of it, and a bonnet for 
 my head !" 
 
 " Oh, my tear, you ask too much — sadly too much ! I 
 could not do it — s'help me Joshua, I could not do it !" 
 
 " Alas, alas !" moaned Edgworth Bess. " That hope is 
 gone ! What am I to do now ?" 
 
 As she uttered these words in a low and mournful voice, 
 she turned round and was about to leave the shop. 
 
 Hastily, however, the woman called her back. 
 
 She was by no means desirous of losing so good a cus- 
 tomer. 
 
 "Shtop!" she said. "Shtop, my dear! and I will try 
 what can be done." 
 
 Revived by this faint hope, Edgworth Bess turned 
 round. 
 
 " Whash sort of a bonnet and dress did you require ?'' 
 
 "Any kind — no matter what; the commoner the 
 better." 
 
 " I will try what I can do, my tear, just for the look of 
 you, though I am shure to lose by this bit of bizness." 
 
 The Jew woman took down from a peg a common and 
 tattered sort of dress. 
 
 She had bought it the night before for fourpence. 
 
 From a drawer she produced a hat such as was gene- 
 rally worn by females at that period. 
 
 This was irretrievably damaged. 
 
 4 I've got these two, my tear, but I want two shillings 
 
 and the dress you have on before I can part with them. 
 I do, s'help me Joshua !" 
 
 " Alas, then, I must remain as I am, for, as I told you, 
 I have no money !" 
 
 "Well, here, take 'em — take 'em! It's my failing to be 
 generous. I shall lose awfully by this ; but it's all for 
 your sake, my tear ! Step inside a minute, and then you 
 can change your dress." 
 
 Edgworth Bess was only too glad to comply with this 
 request, and she changed her dress accordingly, leaving 
 the beautiful dress she had worn in exchange for the 
 miserable rags the Jew woman gave her. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, however, was well enough pleased 
 with her bargain ; but reflecting that a shawl or cloak of 
 some kind would be requisite not only for appearance's 
 sake but for protection from the cold as well, she, after a 
 great deal of trouble, succeeded in getting a cloak — which 
 was, however, only fit to be worn by a mendicant. 
 
 Highly pleased with her bargain, she left the shop, and 
 once more continued her way along the street. 
 
 fheHfc waats having been supplied, the pangs of hunger 
 began to gnaw at her heart, and she anxiously asked her- 
 self how she was to succeed in obtaining food. 
 
 No sooner was she out of one difficulty than another 
 stared her in the face. 
 
 She was pleased to find that she no longer formed such 
 an attractive object as she had done a short time before. 
 
 A glance of compassion was now all that was bestowed 
 upon her. 
 
 As she wandered on she became plunged in profound 
 thought. 
 
 What was she to do ? was the question that stared her 
 in the face. 
 
 She did not know. 
 
 Sick and faint with fatigue, cold, and want of food, her 
 spirits suffered great depression. 
 
 She began to lose all hopes of ever again being united 
 to Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Certainly, it seemed as though she would perish of cold 
 and want before the meeting took place. 
 
 Eventually, she thought, she must discover him — but 
 when ? 
 
 For aught she knew, Jack Sheppard might by this 
 time have received his death-blow from the thief-taker ; 
 and, if so, what was to become of her ? 
 
 She must act for herself. 
 
 London was a place where money could be procured, 
 and in many different ways. 
 
 It was necessary that she should have money ; but how 
 was she to earn it ? 
 
 Not long did this question perplex her. 
 
 She recollected she had a trade in her fingers, and won- 
 dered how she had forgotten it till now. 
 
 By it she could at least earn sufficient to save her from 
 utter destitution. 
 
 It was a horrid, soul-depressing, and body-wearing 
 trade. 
 
 The reader will, doubtless, recollect that when Edg- 
 worth Bess was first introduced on the stage of this narra- 
 tive, it was as a shroud-maker. 
 
 That was the trade at which she thought she could 
 obtain a livelihood. 
 
 She had worked for Mrs. Boblet for a length of time— 
 until, indeed, the woman whe she always thought was 
 her mother died, and then she was suddenly deprived of 
 her employment. 
 
 It was on the night when this took place that Jack 
 had the good fortune to rescue her from the attack which 
 Lord Donmull and his man Steggs made upon her. 
 
 From that hour she had had no employment. 
 
 Now, however, thrown so entirely upon her own re- 
 sources as she was, she determined to look about her until 
 she found a place where she could obtain work of this 
 description to do. 
 
 Having now a purpose in view, she forgot to a great 
 extent her fatigue and the hunger that was gnawing at he* 
 breast. 
 
 With renewed hope and cheerfulness, she looked into 
 shop window after shop window, hoping to find one of 
 the particular description she sought. 
 
 In this she was for a long time unsuccessful. 
 
 She travelled a great distance before she came to where 
 these articles were made. 
 
 Entering, she requested employment ; but the man in
 
 034 
 
 BLUESKIK : A ROMANCE. 
 
 the shop, glancing suspiciously at her habiliments, sternly 
 bade her begone. 
 
 Downcast and trembling, the poor girl left the shop. 
 
 As soon as she got outside, she wept long and bitterly. 
 
 Many saw her, but none inquired the cause of her grief, 
 or attempted in any way to assuage it. 
 
 At length, from sheer exhaustion, sho ceased weeping, 
 and, looking up, found she had paused opposite another 
 ehroudmaker's. 
 
 Such an effect had her former rebuff had upon her, that 
 her heart sunk at the bare idea of entering this shop and 
 making another attempt. 
 
 Still some kind of fascination kept her hoverio<r about 
 the spot. 
 
 At length she walked up to the window, and looked at 
 the ghastly and ominous articles exposed in it. 
 
 Upon her, however, they produced but a slight effect 
 for sho was familiar with them. 
 
 At length she caught sight of a card. 
 
 It was a small one, and upon it were scrawled, in 
 scarcely legible letters, two words. 
 
 Yet they were expressive — to the poor girl who de- 
 ciphered them especially so. 
 
 The two words were, " Hands wanted." 
 
 Although she saw this announcement, and understood 
 it so well, yet the poor girl was afraid to enter. 
 
 She could not forget the manner in which she had been 
 treated such a little time ago. 
 
 Her spirits were by far too delicate and sensitive to bear 
 up against such rude rebuffs, or even an unkind word. 
 
 And so, shivering with cold and hunger, she stood 
 hesitatingly before the window. 
 
 Alas, how sad it was to see her in such a situation and 
 in such a frame of mind ! 
 
 She was unable to tear herself away from the window, 
 and she felt it to be equally out of her power to summon 
 up the courage to enter. 
 
 Yet she strove very hard to do so. 
 
 She reasoned with herself upon the subject, but without 
 being able to do as she desired. 
 
 The dread of the reception -she might receive was too 
 vividly before her. 
 
 At length, a sharp pang of hunger accomplished what 
 she had been in vain trying to bring herself to rlt». 
 
 She entered. 
 
 It was a desperate chance. 
 
 She might obtain work, and she might not. 
 
 She tried hard, however, to console herself with the re- 
 flection that, if she failed, she could not meet with worse 
 treatment than she had received at the place where she 
 first made application. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXV. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS AT LENGTH SUCCEEDS IN OBTAINING 
 THE EMPLOYMENT SHE SO WISHED FOR. 
 
 Edgworth Bess entered the shroud-maker's shop. 
 
 The first thing she noticed was that a number of men 
 were at work in it. 
 
 Shrinking and terrified, she crept towards the counter. 
 
 She hardly dared to raise her eyes. 
 
 She was startled by a sharp voice asking what she 
 wanted. 
 
 Looking up as these words fell upon her cars, she saw 
 that they were uttered by a thin, waspish-looking woman, 
 who was standing behind a counter, busily engaged in 
 folding up some articles. 
 
 For the life of her, Edgworth Bess could not reply to 
 the query so roughly and sharply put. 
 
 She drew in her breath, and opened her lips, but she 
 was unable to articulate a sound. 
 
 The question was repeated, and this time in tones of 
 even greater asperity than before. 
 
 The poor girl's confusion increased. 
 
 " What do you want ?" asked the woman ; and then, 
 jumping to a conclusion caused by the appearance which 
 our heroine presented, she added, with very particular 
 emphasis : 
 
 " We never give nobody nothink !" 
 
 "I do not want you to give me anything," faltered 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Oh ! Well, p'raps you'll tell me your business !" 
 
 " I saw a card——" 
 
 " Oh, you have come after work, have you?" 
 
 Edgworth Bess inclined her head. 
 
 " Then, why did you not say so at once ? I have got 
 no time to waste upon you. But then, it's just like you 
 poor people. You are every one of you bone idle !" 
 
 "I am willing to work," said Edgworth Bess, who was 
 spurred on by the increasing pangs of hunger to make a 
 desperate effort. " Give me work to do, and I will do it 1 
 I am starving." 
 
 " Well, what if you are ?" was the unfeeling rejoinder , 
 " do you think I have got time to listen to all my work- 
 people's troubles ?" 
 
 " I do not want you to listen to mine," said Edgworth 
 Bess, meekly. " All I desire is employment." 
 
 "Are you used to the shroud-making work ?" 
 
 " Yes, I have worked at it for years." 
 
 " And is that your manners ?" 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked at the speaker in surprise. 
 
 She could not at first see the connection between this 
 question and what she had last said. 
 
 "It's just like you workpeople, however," continued 
 the shopkeeper; "you none of you never has no more 
 manners nor a pig." 
 
 The reader will perceive that this woman was very 
 prodigal of her negatives. 
 
 She might, perhaps, have fallen into the mistake of sup- 
 posing that they gave additional force to what she said. 
 
 " I am at a loss to think of what breach of good 
 manners I have been guilty." 
 
 The woman held up her hands in amazement. 
 
 "Oh, save and deliver me !" she exclaimed. " Well, if 
 ever I heard anything to come up to that !" 
 
 Then, slightly changing the tone of her voice, 6he 
 added : 
 
 " Well, since you are so ignorant of what good manners 
 is, I would just tell you that when workpeople say any- 
 thing to me, they always, in a manner of speaking, say 
 'Mem!' " 
 
 "I understand you," said Edgworth Bess, "and will not 
 offend again. I tell you once more, I am starving. I am 
 quick at the trade, as you will soon find if you will 
 give me employment." 
 
 " Well, perhaps you may be ; but you must know that 
 shrouds is cheaper now than ever they was, and we have 
 been obliged to redooce the wages according." 
 
 " I am willing to work for a small sum. I am, indeed, 
 ready to do anything to save me from starvation." 
 
 " Well, that's your business, and not mine." 
 
 " I am aware of that, ma'am." 
 
 " Oh, you can speak as you ought to when you like, I 
 hear !" 
 
 " I shall try to give you satisfaction in every way pos- 
 sible," replied Edgworth Bess. 
 
 " Well, that's all right." 
 
 " Shall you be able to give me anything to do, ma'am ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 Edgworth Bess gave a sigh of disappointment. 
 
 " You don't look strong enough for our work — you are 
 sadly too delicate." 
 
 " I am used to the work," said Edgworth Bess, implor- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Very likely, young woman — very likely ; but, you see, 
 what with the competition we have to fight against, and 
 what with the awful price of material, we are not only 
 obliged to redooce the wages, as I told you before, but 
 have everybody at work longish hours. I work longish 
 hours myself." 
 
 " I am willing, ma'am," replied the poor girl, " to submit 
 to the rules of your establishment, whatever they may 
 be." 
 
 " Oh, very good ! Now, that's about the most sensible 
 thing I have heard a workwoman say for a long time. 
 They are always talking some nonsense or other about 
 being hungry, or having to work too many hours, or not 
 feeling well, or some ridiculous thing or other. Why, 
 nothing of that sort never ails me." 
 
 " Can you employ me, then ?" 
 
 " I will take you on trial and see what you can do." 
 
 " Thank you, ma'am — thank you ! I don't know what 
 to say — you have snatched me from death — death !" 
 
 And the unfortunate heiress burst into tears. 
 
 " Now, no snivelling !" cried the shopkeeper. " If you 
 want to please me, you'll stop that sort of thing. I can't 
 abide snivelling."
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMAN 0&. 
 
 m 
 
 Edgworth Bias dried her tears and stifled her sobs as 
 well as she was able. 
 
 " As I said before, I don't mind taking you on trial for 
 ft few days. The wages is " 
 
 The woman hesitated. 
 
 Edgworth Bess watched her eagerly, anxious to know 
 the price of her toilsome labour. 
 
 " The wages is," continued the shopkeeper, " three 
 shillings a week, and you will have to find your own 
 needles and thread." 
 
 The poor girl looked at this vampire despairingly. 
 
 Small as had been the sum she earned with uninterm.it- 
 ting toil while working for Mrs. Roblet, it amounted to 
 nearly double the sum just mentioned. 
 
 But she was starving, and she felt that she did not dare 
 refuse to accede to the infamous terms proposed. 
 
 In a faint, desponding voice, she answered : 
 
 "Very well, ma'am." 
 
 The shopkeeper screwed up her lips. 
 
 She had scarcely expected Edgworth Bess woald con- 
 sent, but finding she did so, with the rapaciousness which 
 formed part of her disposition, regretted that she bad not 
 named a smaller amount. 
 
 She was discontented with herself, though of all the 
 poor creatures she had got at work for her, there was not 
 one receiving so small a stipend as three shillings a 
 week. 
 
 She consoled herself with the thought that she should 
 be able to make a reduction. 
 
 " Them's the wages," she continued ; " not much, per- 
 haps you will say; but still, it's as much as I can 
 afford in the present state of the trade. Then there's one 
 more thing we have got to settle, and that's the hours." 
 
 " Yes, the hours," replied Edgworth Bess ; " what are 
 they?" 
 
 "Well, in a manner of speaking, they are rather long; 
 though, to be sure, not so long as they might be." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Edgworth Boss, reviving a little »t this 
 intelligence. "What time should I have to be in the 
 workroom every morning ?" 
 
 "Why, now, you see, just at this time of year,'when it's 
 so dark, you workpeople have got the advantage. You 
 do not come so many hours as in the suminer,_ when 
 there is more light to work by, you know." 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," assented the poor girl, wno knew not 
 what else to say, but who thought, as the woman paused, 
 that she ought to say something. 
 
 " Being winter now, in course the hours is shorter — 
 you would not be wanted to come earlier than half-past 
 four." 
 
 "Half-past four?" Edgworth Bess involuntarily re- 
 peated. 
 
 "Yes; what have you to say against that ?" asked the 
 woman, tartly. 
 
 "Nothing — nothing; and when should I be done at 
 night ?" 
 
 " Twelve." 
 
 " Twelve o'clock at night ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Good heavens !" she exclaimed, and clasped her hands 
 over her brows. 
 
 " Them's the hours, young woman. You can have a 
 job, if you think the place will suit you." 
 
 Edgworth Bess struggled a moment, and then she 
 said : 
 
 " I accept it." 
 
 " And very wise of you, too, I should say. On, 1 for- 
 got to tell you ! There's something more, and wo may as 
 well have all things settled right off at once as not." 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked up, wondering what was coming 
 next. 
 
 " You know, I don't allow my workpeople to go run- 
 ning out for their meals. It disturbs them at their work, 
 and makes them lose too much time. I shall want you to 
 bring all your meals with you when you come in the 
 morning, and then, you know, you will have no occa- 
 sion to disturb yourself by getting up and down from 
 your work." 
 
 At the utterance of this last piece of monstrous iniquity 
 Edgworth Bess groaned. 
 
 What a prospect had she before her I 
 
 She was not, however, allowed any time tor reflec- 
 tion. 
 
 'Now, young woman," said the shopkeeper, "I have 
 
 no more time to waste with you. Them's the terms. If 
 you likes to agree to them, why, I sets you on at once." 
 
 " Oh, ma'am !" exclaimed Edgworth Bess, in tons 60 
 pathetic that they would have made an imprese'sn 
 upon anyone, save the obdurate being to whom they were 
 addressed. " I am starving — absolutely starving ! You 
 will, therefore, comprehend that it is not in my power to 
 refuse your terms, however hard they may be. I accept 
 tho place ; but, before I begin to work, I must have some- 
 thing to eat." 
 
 " Oh, I have no objection to that ! You can go down 
 in the kitchen, and have something to eat, and welcome ; 
 but you must understand that what you have will be 
 skipped out of your first week's wages; and not only 
 thit — I can't allow you to leave the premises until you 
 have done sufiicient work to make up the sum." 
 
 To these exactions poor Edgworth Bess was compelled 
 to succumb. 
 
 She was wholly in the power of this monster in female 
 form. 
 
 She had clutched her, and she could not escape. 
 
 After having delivered herself in the manner we have 
 recorded, she took our heroine down into the kitchen, and 
 placed before her a small quantity of the coarsest 
 food. 
 
 Hunger, however, has a sharp tooth, and Edgworth 
 Bess commenced eating ravenously. 
 
 Poor girl, her trials and sufferings, so far from being 
 over, were only just beginning. 
 
 Having placed the food before her, the shopkeeper re- 
 tired, leaving her to eat it in solitude and silence. 
 
 Many and bitter were the tears with which the unfor^ 
 tunato heiress washed down this sorry meal. 
 
 When she thought of the terrible price she would have 
 to pay for what she had eaten, she shuddered, and the 
 blood ran cold in her veins. 
 
 Three shillings a week ! 
 
 That was the amount of the wages sho was to receiva, 
 and out of that miserable pittance the stipulation was that 
 she should find her own needles and thread. 
 
 This may seem a trifling matter, but it ceases to be so 
 when it is considered in connection with three shillings a 
 week. 
 
 These cheap and simple articles would in that time 
 make a great hole in such a sum ; and so poor Edgworth 
 Bess was well aware, from previous sad experience. 
 
 And then, the hours ! 
 
 It was winter, when it was cold and dark, and the 
 were from half-past four until midnight. 
 
 That left four hours and a half to seek her lodgings, to 
 sleep, and to return to the workroom. 
 
 Then there was to be no respite to this dreary time. 
 
 She was to ^take her seat at the hour first mentioned, 
 and not quit it until the church clocks in the metropolis 
 had chimed out the hour of midnight. 
 
 Her fingers would only stay their toil for a few 
 moments while she hastily devoured the meals which sho 
 had been bidden to bring with her. 
 
 Such were the sad thoughts that occupied the mind of 
 our heroine. 
 
 But she was not for long permitted to indulge in them. 
 
 The shrill voice of the shopwoman struck upon her 
 ears. 
 
 "Now, young woman," she said, "if you've finished 
 your vittles, come up here, and I'll show you the way to 
 the workrcom, and set you some to do !" 
 
 With a heavy heart, Edgworth Bess rose from the 
 chair upon which she had been sitting, and crossing the 
 dark kitchen, groped her way up the still darker staircase 
 that conducted to the ground floor. 
 
 Here she found the shopwoman waiting for her. 
 
 " Have you finished your vittles ?" 
 
 "Yes, jua'am," was the reply. 
 
 "I thought you had — you have had time enough, good- 
 ness knows ! Come on after me, and you shall soon havo 
 something better to do than to 6it down in idle- 
 ness." 
 
 To these harsh and unfeeling words Edgworth Bess did 
 not, and could not, make any reply. 
 
 She felt her heart swell, and so painful did it become, 
 that she feared it would burst. 
 
 Silently, then, she followed the shopkeeper up so many 
 flights of stairs, that when she reached the top sho was 
 ready to sink with exhaustion.
 
 &6 
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 By clutching tightly at the balustrade, however, she 
 sustained herself. 
 
 Pushing open a small door, the shopwoman strode into 
 a room. 
 
 The poor heiress followed her. 
 
 She was greeted with a gush of foul and heated air, 
 which had been generated in that small room by so many 
 breaths. 
 
 A rustling sound, as the weary workers turned over 
 their work, as occasion required, was the only sound that 
 broke the otherwise intense silence. 
 
 Not a word was spoken — scarcely a look exchanged. 
 
 The poor girls were packed as closely together as they 
 could be packed, and where Edgworth Bess was to find a 
 Beat was a mystery. 
 
 The shopkeeper, however, by compelling the crowded 
 workers to sit closer together, contrived to make room for 
 the new comer, who was greeted by her fellow-workers 
 with a different expression, according to the nature of 
 their disposition. 
 
 Some pitied her, others hated her ; not ono, however, 
 welcomod her, or seemed glad to see her. 
 
 The majority felt sorry that another being had been 
 inducted into their own miserable existence. 
 
 At the command of the shopkeeper, Edgworth Bess 
 seated herself, and was then supplied with so large a 
 quantity of work, that it positively looked disheartening. 
 
 Edgworth Bess knew that it was the hard labour of 
 very many hours. 
 
 " There," said the shopkeeper, " I can't let you move 
 until you have done all these, and then you will have 
 earned what you have just eaten !" 
 
 CHAPTEK CCCXXXVI. 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS, MADDENED WITH SHAME AND GRIEF, 
 TAKES A LEAP FOR DEATH INTO THE THAMES. 
 
 With a heart brimming over with despair and grief, Edg- 
 worth Bess took up one of the shrouds. 
 
 Needles and thread were placed before her, but she was 
 carefully told that the amount they represented would be 
 deducted from her wages at the end of the week. 
 
 Having seen her commence her work, the shcRir<?,>;'.n 
 retired. 
 
 When the door had closed behind her, our heroine ven- 
 tured to look more closely at those who surrounded her 
 tban she had done hitherto. 
 
 Very little curiosity respecting herself was, however, 
 manifested by any of them. 
 
 One glance at her fragile and attenuated frame seemed 
 to suffice for them. 
 
 Not one spoke. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was surprised. 
 
 She had thought Mrs. Boblet's a most wretched place ; 
 but now her thoughts reverted to the time when she was 
 there, and a feeling of absolute pleasure came over her at 
 the recollection, so great was, comparatively speaking, the 
 difference. 
 
 At Mrs. Roblet's, the girls, though compelled to work 
 very hard, and a great many hours, were tolerably cheer- 
 ful and happy, and they cheated time of much of its dul- 
 ness by chatting to each other. 
 
 Now, all was silent as a nunnery. 
 
 Edgworth Bess could not work for her tears. 
 
 In vain she strove to force them back — they would 
 throng into her eyes, end pi-event her from seeing properly 
 what 6he was about. 
 
 What chance would she have cf finding Jack Sheppard 
 now, and what chance would he have of finding her ? 
 
 It would be quite impossible for her to se«k for him, 
 since it was clear that she would not be allowed sufficient 
 time to take that rest which her body required. 
 
 Then, the idea that Jack would attempt to look for her 
 there, seemed quite out of the question. 
 
 There was not, then, one cheering point to whicn she 
 could direct her thoughts. 
 
 The blackness of despair alonejpresented itself before 
 her. 
 
 She made but very little progress with her work. 
 
 All her companions noticed it, because theii attention 
 was much fixed upon her. 
 
 But they said nothing. 
 
 At length, one who sat next her whispered in her eat : 
 
 " You had better make more haste with your work, ir 
 you will catch it." 
 
 To this she made no reply, but asked how it was no one 
 spoke. 
 
 "That is against the rules," answered this girl. "If 
 any of as were caught talking by Mrs. Flume, we should 
 all lie fined." 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Flume ?" 
 
 " The forewoman." 
 
 u The one that came in with me ?" 
 
 " No !" was the reply, given in some surprise. " That 
 is Mrs. Pike." 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Pike ?" 
 
 "The woman who belongs to the house." 
 
 " Where is Mrs. Flume ?" 
 
 " I don't know ; she went out a little while ago, and 
 has not returned. I dare not 6top talking to you any 
 longer. I am neglecting my work, and very likely Mrs. 
 Flume is outside the door, listening. She often is ; and 
 then she bursts in all of a sudden, and, if she can't find 
 out who has been talking, 6he threatens to fine all round 
 alike, and so she is always sure to find out the right 
 party. Hush !" 
 
 The speaker was suddenly silent. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was about to inquire the reason, when 
 the door was opened an< i a woman walked in, who, from 
 her very manner, and the effect she produced upon the 
 workwomen, she was sure was the very Mrs. Flume of 
 whom they had just been speaking. 
 
 " I heard some one talking," said the new comer. " Who 
 was it?" 
 
 All was as still as the grave. 
 
 "Who was it?" cried Mrs. Flume again, adopting a 
 defiant attitude, 
 
 Another pause. 
 
 " If you don't speak, I'll fine you all round." 
 
 This seemed such an unjust proceeding, that Edgworth 
 Bess was no longer able to continue silent. 
 
 " I spoke," she said. 
 
 The other girls stared at her aghast. 
 
 Not one of them had ever owned that they had been 
 talking, as she had. 
 
 The plan was adopted of accusing one of their number, 
 and the accused party was then fined. 
 
 It had never entered the minds of one of them to boldly 
 avow that they had been talking. 
 
 Mrs. Flume appeared to be no less surprised. 
 
 She stared at Edgworth' Bess, as though she had seen 
 some leinarkable creature. 
 
 " You spoke, did you?" she said, mocking our heroine's 
 voice. 
 
 "I did." 
 
 " I s'pose you're the new hand Mrs. Pike spoke to me 
 about ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Confound you, where's your manners ?" 
 
 This time Edgworth Bess understood what was meant. 
 
 She corrected herself. 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," she said. 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Then step this way, and let me have a 
 look at 'you. I always like to perooge the faces of the 
 new hands." 
 
 Edgworth Bess stepped forward, as she was bidden. 
 
 Mrs. Flume took hold of her by the arm, rather rudely, 
 and turned her round to the light. 
 
 As soon as the forewoman looked in her face, however, 
 she started back, uttering a loud scream. 
 
 This was an occurrence which called forth our heroine's 
 utmost astonishment, as well as roused all the other work- 
 women from their usual state of torpidity. 
 
 What could this mean ? 
 
 Mrs. Flume seemed in danger of fainting. 
 
 " Oh, horror !" she exclaimed. " Oh, horror upon 
 horror! The viper! Oh, dear me! What shall I do? 
 I shall faint! No, I sha'n't! I'll call Mrs. Pike. Oh, 
 the venomous viper !" 
 
 These ejaculations were no less extraordinary than tht 
 scream which she had at first given utterance to. 
 
 As for Edgworth Bess, she came at once to the conclu- 
 sion that she was mad. 
 
 Nevertheless, in spite of this conviction, she observed 
 all her actions with the greatest curiosity and interest. 
 
 Mrs. Flume dashed open the door of the workroom, 
 and ran to tbe head of the stairs.
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCF. 
 
 537 J 
 
 BMJESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD ENTER THE HOUSE m SPRING GARDENS. 
 
 Then, in a voice of extreme shrillness, she shouted : 
 
 41 Mrs. Pike! Mrs. Pike! Oh, Mrs. Pike ! My dear, 
 kind mistress, do come up here ! Oh, Mrs. Pike !" 
 
 "What's the matter, Flume ?" asked a voice from below. 
 
 Instead of replying in a rational manner to this very 
 rational question, Mrs. Flume continued her extraordinary 
 ejaculations. 
 
 " Make haste, Mrs. Pike ! Oh, do, for goodness sake, 
 make haste ! You little think what you've got in your 
 house at last !" 
 
 Mrs. Pike was alarmed at these ambiguous outcries, 
 and hastened up the stair3 as fast as her legs would carry 
 her. 
 
 No sooner did she reach the top of the attic stairs, than 
 Mrs. Flume made a rush at her, and dragged her into the 
 workroom. 
 
 During the time this was taking place, Edgworth Bess 
 remained standing in the same position, unable to move 
 or do anything besides observe what was going forward. 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Pike !" said Mrs. Flume, " you little think 
 No. 68. 
 
 what you have done ! To think I should have been hers 
 the best part of my life, and then such a thing to occur ! 
 Oh, it makes my very hair stand on end, that it do ! 
 Oh, Mrs. Pike, what should you do without your faithful 
 Flume ?" 
 
 " What's the matter ?" asked Mrs. Pike, nervously, who, 
 from her forewoman's manner, evsry moment expected 
 the disclosure of some terrible catastrophe. " Do tell ma 
 what's the matter !" 
 
 " Oh, Mrs. Pike, I don't know how to tell you — indeed 
 
 I don't! And then, to think Oh, dear! — oh, dear 
 
 It's dreadful ! It gets dreadfuller and dreadfuller tho 
 more you think about it !" 
 
 "What — what, Flume? Tell me what, or you will 
 drive me mad !" 
 
 " Me drive you mad, mem ? Oh, dear, no ! Not by no 
 means ; but you will go mad when I tell you !" 
 
 "What — what? Speak at once! Let me know the 
 worst ! Nothing can be more terriblo than this mysterious 
 suspense I" 
 
 t No. 63
 
 538 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 " I'll toll you, Mrs. Pike. You know, whenever we has 
 any new hands, I always perooges their faces, to see 
 whether I know them, and so as to be able to recognise 
 them again." 
 
 " Well— well, Flume, what of that ?" ; ■ 
 
 . " Everything ! You engaged a new hand while 1 was 
 
 out. Of course, when I comes in, according to my duty, I 
 
 begins to perooge her face. The moment I clapped my 
 
 two blessed eyes upon it oh, dear ! — oh, dear !" 
 
 " What, Flume ?" 
 
 " Oh, the viper ! Oh, the scorpion ! That ever such a 
 baggage should come into a respectable workroom like this 
 here ! Oh, lauks ! Well, after that, you might, in a 
 manner of speaking, expect anything!" 
 
 " But you have not told me, Flume ! Do you know the 
 new hand?" 
 
 " Do I know her ? Oh, mem !" 
 
 Mrs. Flume groaned, and turned up her eyes until 
 only the whites were visible. 
 
 14 You do know her ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, mem! I know her, and I know all her his- 
 tory ! Oh, she's the most awfullest character as ever was 
 known to be ! She is called Edgworth Bess ! That's her 
 grand name, mem ! Oh dear, yes ; she used to work for 
 Mrs. Roblet, in Lincoln's Inn Fields ! But she left there, 
 and she took up with a young rascal, named Jack Sheppard. 
 He was a runaway apprentice, and then he turned high- 
 wayman, and housebreaker, and murderer ! He murdered 
 his old master, as you know very well, mem, because you 
 must recollect all about it ; and he was to be hung, but he 
 broke out of prison ; aud this new hand of yours, mem, 
 has tramped it all over the country with him ; and I dare- 
 say she has come here on purpose to find out everything 
 for him to be able to break in, and murder us all"! Oh, 
 mem ! I shall faint — I know I shall !" 
 
 And Mrs. Flume, exhausted by her emotion, sank down 
 upon a chair, in a collapsed condition. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was quite overcome by this disclosure ; 
 but she remained standing just where she was, for she 
 had no power to stir. 
 
 Mrs. Pike was overcome, too. 
 
 A very particular, pious, upright woman was Mrs. Pike, 
 and the thought of having such a desperate character in 
 her house was awful in the extreme. 
 
 "Murder!" she gasped, at length. "We shall all be 
 murdered in cold blood! Call tho watch! Call the 
 officers ! Oh, what shall I do ? I am a lost woman !" 
 
 Mrs. Flume began to utter her outcries again. 
 
 Edgworth Bess summoned up what courage she pos- 
 sessed. 
 
 Dreading capture at the hands of the myrmidons of the 
 law, she made up her mind to make one desperate effort 
 to escape. 
 
 With one rush she passed Mrs. Pike. 
 
 Mrs. Flume saw her movement, and tried to intercept 
 her. 
 
 It was in vain. 
 
 The suddenness with which the poor girl darted for- 
 ward overturned her, chair and all. 
 
 Still, Mrs. Flume continued her hold on the poor girl's 
 apparel. 
 
 Fortunately for our heroine, this was old and rotten, j 
 and came away in the forewoman's grasp. 
 
 With the breathless speed of a hunted hare, Edgworth I 
 Bess rushed down the rickety staircase — how, she hardly ! 
 knew. 
 
 At length the bottom was reached. 
 
 Flinging open the door, she dashed into the shop, and 
 from thence into the street. 
 
 A wild cry came from the rear, but heeding it not, she 
 flew onward. 
 
 Maddened by all that she had that day undergone, she 
 tore along with all the fury of a maniac. 
 
 People made way for her, and allowed her to pass by. 
 
 It was evening, and tho streets of the metropolis were 
 involved in gloom. 
 
 Heedless and unconscious of this, the young girl con- 
 tinued her frantic career. 
 
 The demon of madness had taken possession, of her, 
 and she knew not what she was about. 
 
 All her ideas were in inextricable confusion. 
 
 Her brain spun round and round. 
 
 Much had she suffered and put up with patiently, but 
 this last scene of all was beyond endurance. 
 
 The cold and wintry wind swept past hei ; but she 'knew 
 fi aot. 
 
 The snow came down in large fleecy masses, and 
 covered the ground thickly, but of this she was uncon- 
 scious also. 
 
 At length she was obliged to stay her progress. 
 
 She could go no further. 
 
 This roused her somewhat, and she looked round. 
 
 She was standing on the banks of the Thames, some 
 distance above Westminster Bridge. 
 
 The lamps upon this structure were dimly visible 
 through the falling snow, and so, too, were their reflec- 
 tions on the murky water. 
 
 Edgworth Bess clasped her hands over her forehead. 
 
 The plashing of the water suggested a new thought, and 
 a most horrible one. 
 
 It was, that she would take one leap into that dark and 
 turbid stream, and by that act put an end to the life 
 which had been nothing but misery to her. 
 
 That she was mad when this idea took possession of 
 her heated brain, there can be no doubt. 
 
 In her rational moments she would have shuddered 
 and shrank back from the bare contemplation of such a 
 deed. 
 
 Now she experienced no such feeling. 
 
 It seemed to her as though, by one plunge into the 
 water, she should obtain rest and peace — tiioso two 
 blessings which seemed to be denied her. 
 
 When this thought once crossed her morbid and excited 
 imagination, it was followed up by a thousand thoughts, 
 all urging her to do the deed. 
 
 The dark waters, as they surged up on tho muddy 
 shore, seemed to say to her, " Here is rest !" 
 
 She listened, and repeated these words over and over 
 again. 
 
 Then she laughed a shrill, unmeaning laugh, which 
 echoed far over the surface of the water. 
 
 Before here was a barge. 
 
 To get on to it would be easy — to spring off tho other 
 end of it into the water was more easy still. 
 
 In a moment her mind was made up. 
 
 With superhuman agility she sprang on to the clumsy 
 vessel. 
 
 Someone was aboard. 
 
 It was the watchman. 
 
 He had been sleeping. 
 
 He felt something rush past him. 
 
 He looked up. 
 
 The dark and shadowy outlines of a female forrn met 
 his gaze. 
 
 In a moment he understood all. 
 
 He stretched out his hand, and strove to grasp tho 
 flying figure. 
 
 But he was too late. 
 
 With another of those laughs, which were enough to 
 curdle the blood in the veins of those who heard it, Edg- 
 worth Bess, a prey to madness, sprang from the prow of 
 the barge into the Thames. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXVII. 
 
 BLUESKIN AND JACK SHEPPARD SUCCEED IN EFFECTING 
 AN ENTRANCE INTO THE HOUSE IN SPRING GARDENS. 
 
 We left Blueskin and Jack Sheppard at the door of the 
 mysterious house in Spring Gardens, along with the 
 driver of the hackney-coach whom they had been fortu- 
 nate enough to encounter. 
 
 The information which he had given them was correct 
 in every particular, but it was given them too late. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had been in that house, but she had 
 gone ; for it was on the evening following the one upon 
 which the interview between the young nobleman and 
 Edgworth Bess had taken place that our friends stood 
 before the door. 
 
 The result of that interview is known. 
 
 Through the assistance of tho young nobleman, tho 
 persecuted heiress had left that infamous den, by need- 
 lessly adveutm-ing into which her only protectors and 
 friends were about to incur such deadly peril. 
 
 But Jack, and Blueskin, and the hackney-coachman had 
 no idea of what had taken place on the jjreceding night, 
 nor was there any means by which they could obtain such 
 knowledge.
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 689 
 
 While they were standing needlessly here, Edgworth 
 Bess was flying through the streets, with the fire of mad- 
 ness lighted up in her brain. 
 
 She was close to them, being merely divided by the 
 River Thames. 
 
 Under the impression, however, tbat she was still in 
 that handsome and imposing-looking house, thoy gazed 
 eagerly at the polished door, and with straining eyes made 
 out the number to bo 57. 
 
 So far, then, the coachman's iulormation was borne out 
 by proofs. 
 * " You see, gemmen," he said, " that I was quite right 
 in what I told you." 
 
 "Yes, yes!" said Jack, hurriedly ; "and nothing now 
 remains but to decide upon the means by which the houso 
 shall be entered." 
 
 " Well, I leaves that all to you ; only, let me recommend 
 you not on no account to use violence ; because, if you 
 do, you will bo sure to bo defeated. Everything must be 
 done on the sly if you are to succeed." 
 
 " We will bear what you say in mind." 
 
 " Do so, gemmen. In the meantime, I'll look after my 
 nags, and keep a sharp eye on this here blessed front door. 
 When I see you with the gal, I will roll up in no 
 time." 
 
 With this understanding, the driver returned to his 
 coach, while Blueskin and Jack Sheppard conferred to- 
 gether as to the means they should adopt to enter the 
 house. 
 
 " There's no mode so easy as the roof," said Jack, " and, 
 so far as my experience goes, I should say that was the 
 best manner." 
 
 "It is in most cases," said Blueskin. "Tho difficulty 
 is in getting on to the roof." 
 
 " Ah, there it is !" 
 
 " Look up at this house, Jack, and see what a height it 
 is. No doubt there is a trap-door on the roof, through 
 which we could get easily enough ; but the difficulty is 
 to reach it." 
 
 " What means, then, do you propose, if you do not in- 
 tend to try the roof ?" 
 
 " We must reconnoitre first, before we decide upon any- 
 thing. There is no knowing what we may discover. 
 Besides, we ought to obtain all tho information we can 
 with respect to our situation, in case an emergency should 
 occur." 
 
 " Bight, my friend !" said Jack. " I must get you to 
 think for me to-night, for my mind is not so clear as it 
 generally is." 
 
 " I can tell that. You are excited by the importance of 
 what we are about to do." 
 
 " How could I be otherwise ?" 
 
 " It is nothing but natural. But come — if we stand 
 talking here we shall bo sure to excite suspicion, and our 
 time is too precious to bo lost." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin turned away from where he had 
 been standing, and crept towards the next house to 
 No. 57, which he examined attentively. 
 
 He was closely followed in all his movements by Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 No. 56 — for that was the number of the house before 
 which they paused — was externally the same as No. 57. 
 
 Berceiving this, our friends next proceeded to look at 
 No. 58. 
 
 They were not aware that Mother Eobotham occupied 
 two houses, instead of one. 
 
 Not only was No. 5G externally the same as No. 57, but 
 internally also. 
 
 Upon reaching No. 58, tho first thing that struck our 
 friends when they glanced upon it was, that no light 
 came from any of the windows. 
 
 Even the lamp outside the door was unlighted. 
 
 Blueskin closely examined the whole of the structure, 
 and then, in a whisper, he said to his companion : 
 
 "I wonder whether this house is empty." 
 
 " It has the appearance of being to let. I was thinking 
 60 myself at the moment you spoke." 
 
 " If such should luckily prove to be the case," said 
 Blueskin, " all will bo easy. The question is. how are we 
 to ascertain?" 
 
 " The coachman !" 
 
 "Thanks for that idea! Doubtless the coachman will 
 be able to tell us. We will cross over to him." 
 
 As he spoke, Blueskin and Jack crossed over to the 
 
 opposite side of the street, where the hackney-coachman 
 was waiting. 
 
 Observing then- approach, he immediately came towards 
 them. 
 
 " What now, gemmen ?" he asked. 
 
 " We have been looking at the houses on each side ol 
 No. 57," replied Blueskin. " Do you happen to know 
 whether that one is empty ?" 
 
 He pointed at No. 58 as he spoke. 
 
 "You will perceive," added Jack, "that there is no 
 light visible at any of the windows, and even the hall- 
 lamp is not burning." 
 
 " It's to let," replied the coachman ; " but whether it's 
 empty is more than I can tell you." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" 
 
 '•Why, I know it's to let, because I saw the card in tho 
 window myself the last time I was here by daylight. But 
 don't you know that very often people are put to stay in 
 these great houses until they are taken ?" 
 
 " To be sure — to be sure ! You think, then, that most 
 likely there is someone in that house to let who has been 
 placed there in charge of it ?" 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 "Have you any particular grounds for thinking so ?" 
 
 "No ; nothing more than that I know such is usually 
 the case." 
 
 "Thanks! That will do. Be careful to keep watch." 
 
 " All right, gemmen ! You cau depend upon me." 
 
 Once more Blueskin and Jack Sheppard made their way 
 towards No. 58. 
 
 " Do you intend to risk entering it, Joe ?" asked Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 " By what means?" 
 
 "The front door." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because, if , as I suspect, the house is empty, the 
 people who left it would fasten all the rest of the house as 
 securely as possible, and merely lock the front door after 
 them when they went away." 
 
 " I did not think of that." 
 
 " If this is the case, we sha'n't have much trouble. You 
 have a picklock, have you not?" 
 
 "Yes; here it is." 
 
 '• That will do, then. If, after we have shot back the 
 lock, the front door gives way to our touch, we may 
 safely assume that there is no one in it ; because, if there 
 was, they woidd take care to fasten it in some other way 
 as well." 
 
 " Certainly — certainly ! Come — I am all impatience to 
 mako the trial." 
 
 "Be careful. In an expedition like this you cannot 
 make use of too much caution." 
 
 "I am aware of it." 
 
 " If can once get inside No. 58, we shall be able to 
 make our way on to the roof of No. 57 without difficulty ; 
 for, if you look up, you will perceive the houses are just 
 the same." 
 
 " They are." 
 
 The two friends had now reached the doorway of 
 No. 58. 
 
 Jack held the little crooked pieco of steel called a pick- 
 lock in lu3 hand, and he eagerly thrust it into the key- 
 hole. 
 
 The lock was a large one, and this made Jack's task all 
 the easier ; for in those days the notion that tho strength 
 of a lock was in proportion to its size had not ex- 
 ploded. 
 
 Jack Sheppard only had to rattle tho picklock a few 
 times, and then he succeeded in talcing a firm hold of the 
 wards. 
 
 A dexterous twist of the wrist was all that was now 
 required, and the next moment the bolt of the lock shot 
 back with an alarming snap. 
 
 Blueskin pushed the door, impatient to a degree to 
 kow whether it would yield. 
 
 It gave way before the pressure he applied to it. 
 
 With a feeling of delight which we leave our readers 
 to imagine, he pushed it open further still, until both weie 
 able to glide into the passage. 
 
 The next thing was to close the door, and then to re- 
 main perfectly still and listen. 
 
 Tho closing door raised a thousand echoes in the dreary 
 building, but the reverberations gradually died away.
 
 540 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 The interior of the hall was very dark, and our two 
 friends found themselves unable to see anything. 
 
 Total darkness did not, however, prevail, and of this 
 they soon became conscious. 
 
 Through the fanlight that was over the door there came 
 a faint, misty kind of twilight ; and, as they stood listening, 
 they gradually became able to see about them. 
 
 In front was a broad staircase. 
 
 This, however, they did not yet venture to ascend, until 
 assured that they had not disturbed anyone by their sur- 
 reptitious entrance. 
 
 The continued silence at length inspired them with 
 confidence. 
 
 Convinced that if anyone had been in the house their 
 entrance must have been heard, they reasonably enough 
 came to the conclusion that they were the sole inmates of 
 it, and in this opinion they were strengthened by having 
 found the door merely locked, and not bolted. 
 
 It was some strange kind of instinct, however, that 
 made them creep across the hall on tiptoe. 
 
 Then the stairs were reached. 
 
 When once they had taken hold of the massive balus- 
 trades, it was easy enough to ascend, although they had to 
 feel their way. 
 
 A light would have been very serviceable to them, and 
 they had the means of procuring one, but judged it would 
 be dangerous, lest their presence in the empty house 
 should become known. 
 
 This was what they had most of all to dread, so they 
 submitted to the alternative of receiving a few bruises. 
 
 At length, without the occurrence of any particular 
 incident, the top of the stairs was reached. 
 
 They now stood on the landing from which the doors 
 of the attics opened. 
 
 Here, then, was where our friends expected to find a 
 trap-door which would enable them to gain the roof. 
 
 To discover this, a light was, however, necessary. 
 
 At all risks they would have to show a light, if for a 
 moment only, for otherwise the position of the trap-door 
 could not be discovered. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had some thieves' matches in his pocket, 
 and one of these he ignited. 
 
 A tiny flame came from the small piece of wood, and 
 endured for a few seconds only ; still, as Jack held it in 
 the air, it enabled them to find that of which they were in 
 6earch. 
 
 They saw the oatlines of the trap-door, but it was in 
 the ceiling, high above their heads, and to reach it seemed 
 almost an impossibility. 
 
 Upon this they conferred for a few moments, and then 
 agreed to ignite another match, and take one more glance 
 around them, in the hope of being able to find something 
 that would assist them to reach the trap-door. 
 
 Jack accordingly lighted the second match. 
 
 It was now that they noticed something which had 
 before escaped their observation. 
 
 Near them was a large cupboard, or wardrobe, such as 
 are frequently to be found in this position. 
 
 This at once suggested to Blueskin a means of reaching 
 the ceiling. 
 
 He saw the key was sticking in the lock, so he opened 
 one of the folding-doors, with which the cupboard was 
 fitted, without difficulty. 
 
 Some bare shelves were then exposed to view. 
 
 More than that he saw not, for at this moment the match 
 went out. 
 
 Still it had served the purpose admirably. 
 
 By the aid of the shelves, Blueskin succeeded in reach- 
 ing the top of the wardrobe ; and, when in this petition, 
 it was perfectly easy for him to push the trap-door 
 open. 
 
 This done, he placed one foot on the edge of the open 
 door, and grasping the edges of the trap-door with his 
 hands, easily drew himself up. 
 
 He was now standing between the ceiling and the 
 tiles. 
 
 Here he remained, and lent Jack all the assistance in 
 his power to reach him. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was lithe and agile, and he performed 
 this feat with even greater ease than his companion had 
 done. 
 
 The only thing that now had to be done was to with- 
 draw the two bolts by which the outer trap-door was se- 
 cured, and push it open. 
 
 To do this took them a few moments only. 
 
 The bolts appeared to be literally rusted into their 
 sockets, and they had some trouble in withdrawing them, 
 but at length they succeeded. 
 
 The outer side of the trap-door was covered with sheet- 
 lead, which made it a great weight, and very difficult to 
 move. 
 
 Slowly, however, they raised it, and pushed it from its 
 position until they had left a space sufficiently large for 
 them to creep through. 
 
 More than this they did not require, so without attempt- 
 ing to move it any further they got on to the roof. 
 
 The tiles were very steep, and they had to exercise great 
 caution in making their way over them, as a single false 
 step would have precipitated them to the ground beneath. 
 
 Clinging with their hands to the slight projections 
 caused by the tiles lapping over each other, they slowly 
 crept along. 
 
 The distance was very short to the trap-door in the 
 roof of No. 57, but our friends were a long time reach- 
 ing it. 
 
 Their progress was slow in the extreme, but at last, to 
 their infinite satisfaction, they arrived at the wished-for 
 spot. 
 
 A serious difficulty now presented itself. 
 
 The trap-door through which they had just passed was 
 bolted on the inside. 
 
 From this, would it not be reasonable to infer that the 
 other was fastened in a similar manner ? 
 
 If this was the case, how were they to raise the trap- 
 door from the outside ? 
 
 Its weight alone, and their awkward, insecure position, 
 would make this feat one of great danger to attempt ; 
 but should it be fastened, what then ? 
 
 Our friends, however, did not suffer themselves to dwell 
 long upon this subject. 
 
 Taking hold of two corners of the trap-door, they en- 
 deavoured to raise it. 
 
 They scarcely hoped to succeed when they made the 
 attempt. 
 
 Their surprise and pleasure may, therefore, be imagined 
 when they found they could lift it with comparative 
 ea.se. 
 
 This was indeed unexpected good fortune. 
 
 It seems strange, however, that this trap-door should 
 have been thus left unsecured. 
 
 But we must remind the reader that No. 57 was a 
 strange house, in which strange things continually took 
 place. 
 
 The fact of the trap-door being unbolted ought to excite 
 but a small amount of surprise. 
 
 There was a motive for it, and with this motive we 
 shall probably in a short time become acquainted. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXVIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPAKD AND BLUESKIN WITNESS SOME EXTRA- 
 ORDINARY SCENES IN THE MYSTERIOUS HOUSE IN SPRING 
 GARDENS. 
 
 Disposed as they at first were to discredit such good 
 fortune, Blueskin and Jack Sheppard quickly found that 
 the trap-door really was not secured in any way. 
 
 All they had to do was to remove it sufficiently from 
 the space it covered to enable them to slip through. 
 
 Had their positions upon the slanting tiles been less 
 awkward than it was, this would have been an easy 
 matter. 
 
 As it was, it became difficult in the extreme. 
 
 The trap-door, owing to the sheet-lead with which it 
 was covered, was very heavy, and they found it almost an 
 impossibility to raise it. 
 
 They ran a fearful risk at every fresh attempt they 
 made, but undauntedly they again and again applied them- 
 selves to their task, stimulated by the hope of rescuing 
 Ellsworth Bess from great peril and danger. 
 
 Slowly, then, the heavy door was shifted from its 
 position, but they ceased their efforts as soon as ever they 
 were able to slip through. 
 
 Jack was the first to descend. 
 
 Cautiously squeezing himself between the frame and 
 the door, he presently stood upon the inner trap-door. 
 
 He moved aside to permit his companion to follow him. 
 and in another moment the two comrades were side by 
 Bide.
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 541 
 
 What they had now to do was to remove the inner trap- 
 door, but in doing this there was some danger of discovery; 
 for, situated as they were, they could not tell who was 
 beneath. 
 
 Their first proceeding was to kneel down and listen. 
 
 No sound, however, reached their ears. 
 
 Encouraged by the silence, they now ventured to re- 
 move the inner trap-door, which consisted merely of a 
 square piece of wood. 
 
 This, however, they slipped aside gradually, and as 
 soon as they were able to see down, they stopped. 
 
 The first glance reassured them. 
 
 No one was in sight. 
 
 Noiselessly and speedily the inner trap-door was raised 
 and placed on one side. 
 
 The landing below was now fully revealed. 
 
 There was a faint, soft light diffused over it, which 
 came from a lamp at the turn of the staircase. 
 
 A gush of warm, perfumed air came into their faces, at 
 once conveying the idea of luxury and voluptuousness. 
 
 The balustrades of the staircase were handsome, and 
 the landing was covered with a carpet of exquisite pat- 
 tern and texture, corresponding with that upon the stairs. 
 
 Jack was amazed, for he had never seen anything of this 
 description before. 
 
 He was aroused by Blueskin, who warned him that he 
 had no time to gaze about him. 
 
 Thus reminded, he once listened, and then, finding the 
 silence unbroken, lowered himself through the trap-door. 
 
 He clung to the frame with his hands, and when the 
 full extent of his arms was reached, his feet were but a 
 short distance from the floor. 
 
 Thnt he should be able to alight upon the carpet be- 
 neath without making much noise he felt confident, and 
 therefore he released his hold without hesitation. 
 
 He took care to drop upon his toes, and by this means 
 the violence of the concussion was reduced as much as 
 possible. 
 
 His first act, however, was to spring to the stair-head 
 and listen. 
 
 No indications of an alarm having been given reached 
 his ears, and he made a sign with his hand to Blueskin to 
 follow his example and descend. 
 
 Our old friend obeyed instantly, though of necessity 
 he made more noise in alighting than his lighter and 
 more agile companion. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had his feet touched the ground, 
 than a scream arose of so awful a character as seemed to 
 freeze the very blood in their veins, and deprive them of 
 all power of motion. 
 
 Their first impulse was to clasp their hands over then- 
 ears, and shut out the terrible cry. 
 
 The scream came again, and their second impulse was 
 to rush downstairs. 
 
 Fortunately, Blueskin restrained himself, and was in 
 time to clutch Jack by the collar, and hold him back. 
 
 " Caution !" he said, in a hoarse, guttural whisper. 
 " Are you mad ?" 
 
 Jack struggled for an instant to release himself, and 
 then became still as hb grew conscious of the sense of 
 Blueskin's injunction. 
 
 " Be cautious, Jack ! Do not let anything cause you to 
 forget the danger which must result from a discovery. 
 You must not be surprised at anything that takes place 
 here." 
 
 " But those screams !" said Sheppard, in the same ener- 
 getic yet whispering tone. " They were terrible ! They 
 ring iu my cars now !" 
 
 "Be careful, I say again, and then doubtless we shall 
 discover all !" 
 
 Jack became silent, but noddorl his head acquiescingly 
 to his comrade's remarks. 
 
 Like spectres they stole down the stairs. 
 
 The sound must have come from below, because ti»ev 
 were in the highest part of the house. 
 
 But it was this alone which afforded them a guide. 
 
 Had it not been for this accidental circumstance, they 
 would have been at a loss to say whether the screams 
 came from above or below, or from all sides at once. 
 
 After the two shrieks all was still. 
 
 There was no bustle or alarm as though anyone had 
 been aroused by them. 
 
 Tho house still maintained its oppressive, silent cha- 
 racter, 
 
 < Impatient in the extreme, however, to learn tho exact 
 signification of those frightful shrieks — which they could 
 not help thinking were, in some way or other, connected 
 with Edgworth Bess— Blueskin and Jack descended to the 
 next landing. 
 
 This was by far more spacious than the one above it, 
 and indications of the greatest luxury were eveiywhero 
 apparent. 
 
 From it numerous doors opened. 
 
 A low, moaning sound now became audible. 
 
 It was continuous, and our friends listened intently in 
 order to determine the precise direction from which it 
 came. 
 
 This they found puzzling, and they were in the end 
 compelled to listen at each door. 
 
 All were closed. 
 
 At length they paused before one from which the 
 sounds appeared to come with increased distinctness. 
 
 After listening more attentively, they became convinced 
 that it was from this source they proceeded. 
 
 Another fact also obtruded itself upon their notice. 
 
 As they leaned slightly against the door to listen, they 
 found it give way before them. 
 
 It was not fastened. 
 
 As soon as they made this discovery, they ceased to 
 press against it. 
 
 They found the door was now sufficiently ajar to enable 
 them to see into the room. 
 
 To their surprise, nothing was visible but darkness. 
 
 The door had been pushed close to, but the latch had 
 not caught, and now that it was opened a little way, the 
 moaning sound became more audible, so that, beyond all 
 doubt, they were in the right direction. 
 
 Finding all was dark, Blueskin pushed the door a little 
 further open, until, in fact, he could put his head into the 
 room. 
 
 The first glance explained everything, and, somewhat 
 to Jack's surprise, his comrade entered, and beckoned to 
 him to follow. 
 
 J ack Sheppard obeyed immediately. 
 
 He found himself in a dark room. 
 
 Blueskin closed the door softly behind him. 
 
 Turning round, Jack now perceived that at some dis- 
 tance was another door leading into an inner chamber. 
 
 This door was only partially shut, and it could be seen 
 that the apartment with which it communicated was illu- 
 minated with tolerable brilliancy. 
 
 Blueskin grasped Jack by the hand, and then both stole 
 on tiptoe to the second door. 
 
 They reached it without creating a sound, for the floor 
 was covered with a carpet of such thickness that their 
 feet sank into it at every step, and precluded all possibility 
 of sound. 
 
 Mingled with the moaning, they could now distinguish 
 someone speaking in a harsh tone of voice, and eagerly 
 they listened to catch the words that were utter^. 
 
 They filled them with surprise, and so did the scene 
 which they beheld, for the crevice between the hinges of 
 the door, as it stood partly open, enabled them to com- 
 mand a view of this inner room. 
 
 The same luxurious style of furnishing was visible, and 
 the light proceeded from a handsome candelabra, which 
 stood upon a table. 
 
 A large and cheerful fire was blazing in the grate, and 
 the whole appointments of the room were superb. 
 
 But although their eyes took in all this at one compre- 
 hensive glance, yet it did not retain their attention. 
 
 They were wholly absorbed by the living creatures they 
 beheld within. 
 
 The first person they saw was Mother Robotham. 
 
 They had no doubts about the matter, for the descrip- 
 tion of her personal appearance which they had received 
 from the driver of the hackney-coach was so graphic and 
 complete, that they recognised her in an instant. 
 
 Her countenance had now assumed an unusual amount 
 of fiery rubicundity. 
 
 It was, too, distorted with the most fiendish wrath that 
 our friends had ever seen depicted in anyone's features. 
 
 In one hand she held a long, thick strap, but which, 
 however, despite her fury, she made no attempt to use. 
 
 Crouching down in a corner was a young girl. 
 
 She it was who was moaning so bitterly, and doubtless 
 it was from her lips that those horrible shrieks had come. 
 
 Only one glance was needed to show Blueskin and
 
 542 
 
 BLUESKIN • A ROMANCE. 
 
 Jack that this -was not Edgworth Bess, as they had at first 
 feared. 
 Thero was no resemblance whatever. 
 Satisfied upon this head, they began to look about them 
 ■with greater calmness than they had hitherto been able to 
 command. 
 
 Curiosity was now the dominant feeling. 
 They at once turned their attention to the third person 
 who appeared upon tho scene. 
 
 This was the one who had spoken with the karsr. 
 voice. 
 He was speaking still. 
 
 It was a man— but a man more out of keeping in man- 
 ner and appearance with the apartment in which he stood 
 could not possibly be found. 
 He was tall and stout. 
 
 His apparel, which was rich and of good material, was 
 soiled and torn. 
 
 it was, too, in the utmost disorder, and seemed to indi- 
 cate that he had either begun to undress himself, or else 
 had dressed himself with great rapidity. 
 
 His face was inflamed with wine and passion, and his 
 eyes sparkled with anger. 
 
 His hands were clenched tightly, and his whole attitude 
 was menacing to a degree. 
 
 " I toll you what it is," were the words which first fell 
 upon the ears of the two unexpected listeners — " I tell you 
 what it is, Mother Robotham, curse me if I put up with 
 this sort of thing any longer ! I don't trouble you much, 
 but I'll let you know I am master here. Just you touch 
 my little Milly again, and I'll lay the strap about your 
 own filthy carcass !" 
 
 Mother Kobotham muttered something, but it was in too 
 low a tone for our friends to catch it. 
 She glared at tho man, but did no more. 
 Perhaps sho knew from experience that she was no 
 match for the burly fellow who stood before her. 
 
 If she submitted, however, it was with a very bad grace, 
 and the strap shook in her grasp as though sho longed to 
 inflict a blow with it. 
 
 " Do you hear what I say, Mother Kobotham ?" asked 
 the man' fiercely. " Do you hear what I say ?" 
 
 "Yes, I hear you!" was the reply. "But how do you 
 expect mo to d* any good when you encourage these 
 
 hussies to set me at defiance ? But I'll " 
 
 "No threats, mother— no threats! Kaise your hand 
 against Milly if you dare !" 
 
 " Do you know what she has dono ?" 
 " No, I don't, and curse mo if I care !" 
 "What right had you, then, to burst into the room like 
 you did, and interfere with what you knew nothini 
 about?" 
 
 " The best of all rights, mother," was the reply. " I am 
 master here, and you shall know it !" 
 
 The old woman muttered something which was in- 
 audible. 
 
 Then, in a louder voice, she added : 
 "It's all very well for you to come interfering, but just 
 through this minx we have lost the best chance of getting 
 a trifle that ever we had. Old Sam brought in a young 
 chap not long ago. He was an officer on board a ship, 
 and had reached London this very day. His pockets 
 were crammed with money, for he had just come off a 
 long cruise." 
 
 " Oh, curse your tales ! I don't want to hear 
 them !" 
 
 " But you shall hear them ! How often is it that we 
 lime a bird so well feathered as this young officer ? Why, 
 not once in a twelvemonth ! Old Sam picked him up and 
 brought him in. He was quite muzzy when he came, so 
 we should have been able to deal with him easily enough, 
 lie was introduced, you know, and picked out Milly here ; 
 . d when they were together, instead of her plying him 
 with drink, as sho ought to have done, she told him to fly 
 — th t his life and money were in danger ; and the con- 
 seque ice was, the young sailor jumped through the win- 
 and made off!" 
 Although he had at first said ho did not want to listen 
 to her tales, tho burly man became visibly interested as 
 she proceeded. 
 
 I I is face glowed with additional anger, but this time it 
 
 Led as though tho girl whom ho had saved from 
 
 vi' lence was the object of it 
 
 Mother Kobotham had finished speaking, he said, angrily 
 
 " Is this the truth ?" 
 
 " Every word of it !" 
 
 "But the young officer did not get off ?" 
 
 " Yes, he did — clear off; and after she had told him what 
 she had ! It's enough to ruin us ! And the young fellow's 
 pockets were crammed with gold !" 
 
 A terrible oath came from the lips of this man, who 
 now seemed about to change from the young girl's de- 
 fender to her persecutor. 
 
 With a lowering countenance, he strode across the room, 
 and seized her rudely by the arm. 
 
 Tho young girl uttered a cry of pain and fear, for the 
 grip was so tight as to hurt her sadly. 
 
 Timidly and terrified, however, sho glanced into the 
 burly ruffian's face, and what sho saw there made her 
 dread the worst. 
 
 "Mercy — mercy!" she cried, imploringly. "Oh, pray 
 have mercy upon me ! Spare me — spare me !" 
 
 Tho man looked at her as though he would read her 
 very soul, as he asked : 
 
 "Is what Mother Kobotham has just said tho truth ? 
 Tell me at once, or you shall suffer for it !" 
 
 The young girl was silent, and trembled like an aspen- 
 leaf. 
 
 " Is it the truth ?" asked the man, threateningly. 
 
 "I — I — warned — the young officer — of — of — his danger!" 
 
 " Oh, you did, curse you, did you?" said the man, with 
 a horrible imprecation. " I am sorry I interfered !" 
 
 Ho 'ooked at her crouched-up figure fiercely, and when I helpless victim. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXXXIX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS ENTIRELY OVERWHELMED BY TIIE 
 TERRIBLE TIDDJGS HE HEARS RESPECTING EDGWORTH 
 
 BESS. 
 
 The poor girl uttered a shriek of dismay when tho man 
 spoke these words, and in the most imploring and piteou3 
 accents, she said : 
 
 " Spare me — spare me ! Have mercy upon me I" 
 Mother Robotham came a step nearer. 
 A strange look was on her face. 
 It was compounded of rage and triumph. 
 The young girl retreated as far as she was ablo, but that 
 was not far. 
 
 The man held her too firmly for that. 
 Mother Robotham crept still nearer. 
 She wished, by the slowness of her movements, to inflict 
 upon her victim the tortures of suspense. 
 
 She raised the strap in the air with sickening delibera- 
 tion. 
 
 Then addressing tho man, she said : 
 " It is not too late for you to repair the mischief yoTi 
 have done. Hold her tight, and we will punish her as 
 she deserves. H she screams much, put your hand over 
 her mouth, and stifle her cries. They might annoy some- 
 one, and there's several particular visitors in the house." 
 
 "All right, mother!" was the reply, uttered with 
 ferocious willingness. " Lace her well. I'll hold her. 
 She deserves to be hung, drawn, and quartered !" 
 
 Mother Robotham was now satisfied, and flourished 
 the strap round her head, preparatory to striking the first 
 blow. 
 
 Tho poor girl uttered a shriek. 
 
 It was wrung from her by the thought of what she was 
 about to suffer. 
 
 She renewed her entreaties, but they were not heeded. 
 The man who had interfered to save her from ill-usage, 
 and who seemed to have some power over Mother Ro- 
 botham herself, was now as desirous that she should be 
 punished as the infamous woman was. 
 
 "We'll see whether you are to spoil our trade, and get 
 us into trouble into the bargain ! You shall bitterly rue 
 tho consequences. You shall be well punished for what 
 you have done, and then perhaps you won't do the same 
 trick again, for fear of receiving tho same reward. 
 
 Take " 
 
 Mother Robotham paused suddenly and abruptly in 
 what sho was about to say. 
 
 She did not finish her sentence, though tho utterance of 
 one more word would have completed il. 
 
 Nor did she strike her intended blow, although the 
 strap was actually descending upon her unhappy and
 
 BICESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 643 
 
 Sho had great reason for not doing so. 
 
 To explain this mystery, however, it will be necessary 
 to revert to the proceedings of Jack Sheppard and Blue- 
 skin. 
 
 It was not long before they fully comprehended all that 
 was taking place before them. 
 
 Enough had been said by the different actors in the scone 
 to make all clear to them. 
 
 Part they knew — the remainder they could easily 
 surmise. 
 
 When they saw the turn affairs were taking, they did 
 not hesitate what to do. 
 
 They scarcely thought of the risk they should run, and 
 the obstacles they should place in the way of the achieve- 
 ment of their enterprise. 
 
 Still less did they consider the amount of danger they 
 would personally incur. 
 
 But both felt that it was quite impossible for them to 
 remain passive spectators of the scene which was about 
 to be enacted. 
 
 The idea of a girl being barbarously ill-used was ab- 
 horrent to them. 
 
 No consideration would have sufficed to hold them 
 back. 
 
 To stand by and see a poor girl brutally flogged for 
 saving the life and property of another was what they 
 could not possibly do. 
 
 Their presence in the house would infallibly become 
 known. 
 
 But for this they cared nothing. 
 
 Their feelings were wrought up to the highest pitch. 
 
 They resolved, upon the impulse of the moment, to do 
 that of which calm reasoning would approve. 
 
 They determined to rush forward, and, by their active 
 interposition, prevent the perpetration of this deed of 
 brutality. 
 
 They were inadequately armed for the conflict which 
 they were quite certain would ensue ; but, reckless of all 
 this, they resolved to make the attack. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, however, had his wits about him, and 
 he employed them to his advantage. 
 
 His quickness and fertility of invention were really 
 wonderful, and they were scarcely ever better exhibited 
 than on the present occasion. 
 
 They had not been listening at the door long before 
 he discovered that the apartment into which they had 
 thus surreptitiously made their way was fitted up as a 
 bedehambei-. 
 
 The light which came from the inner room enabled him 
 to see this. 
 
 The outlines of the bed were clearly distinguishable. 
 
 A fresh thought darted into Jack's mind, and he sprang 
 towards it. 
 
 Hastily he seized the two pillows that were upon it. 
 
 ^hey were very large feather ones. 
 
 With one in each hand, he rushed towards the door. 
 
 It gave way before him. 
 
 With a swift and well-directed aim, he flung one pillow 
 at the candelabra on the table. 
 
 It overturned it with a crash, and the candles were ex- 
 tinguished in a moment. 
 
 Almost simultaneously ho discharged the second pillow 
 with full force at the head of Mother Eobotham. 
 
 It was this which had so suddenly checked her in what 
 she was about to say and do. 
 
 They followed up the attack closely. 
 
 Long ere Mother Robotham and her associate could 
 recover themselves from their astonishment, our two 
 friends were upon them. 
 
 Blueskin seized the burly man from behind, and held 
 him in a grasp of iron. 
 
 "Let go your hold upon that girl," ho cried, "or, as 
 sure as yoii now breathe, I will blow your brains out '" 
 
 The man let go in a moment. 
 
 He was almost frightened to death by the suddenness 
 and unexpectedness of the attack. 
 
 The idea that was uppermost in his mind was, that the 
 young sea officer who had made his escape had returned 
 with a body of police officers. 
 
 The darkness of the place puzzled and confused both 
 him and Mother Eobotham, and they were at a loss to 
 think by what means the sudden extinguishment of the 
 •.andles had been brought about, and more puzzled still to 
 ihink what could be the meaning of it. 
 
 Having thrown the pillows, Jack Sheppard seized hold 
 of Mother Robotham. 
 
 She uttered a dismal yell of apprehension. 
 
 " Hold your row," cried Jack, " without yoii want me 
 to stop your breath for you !" 
 
 " Murder — murder !" 
 
 " Silence, I say, or it will be the worse for you !" 
 
 The poor girl, who had been thus unexpectedly saved 
 from such ill-usage, lost her consciousness, and, when the 
 man released his grasp, she fell at full length upon tho 
 floor. 
 
 Blueskin had but little trouble with the man himself. 
 
 He was a thorough coward, and did not offer the least 
 resistance. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it was perfectly easy for 
 Bluesldn to remove his voluminous neckcloth and tie his 
 arm3 firmly behind his back with it. 
 
 Finding that Mother Robotham paid no attention to his 
 commands, Jack slipped off her apron, and twisting it 
 round until its shape resembled a rope, ho placed it over 
 her mouth and tied it firmly at the back of her head. 
 
 She was now wholly incapacitated from making a noise. 
 
 Indeed, she found it a matter of some difficulty to bo 
 able to breathe. 
 
 Jack hastened to follow up his advantage, and in a mo- 
 ment or so had Mother Robotham bound hand and foot, 
 and lying on the floor in a perfectly helpless condition. 
 
 Ho then turned towards Blueskin, with the intention of 
 rendering him sonio assistance. 
 
 But he found that his services were not needed. 
 
 Unaided, Blueskin had succeeded in securing the man, 
 and was now endeavouring to restore the poor girl to con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 Jack Sheppard knelt down by his side. 
 
 Should they not be interrupted, they doubted not that 
 they should be able to glean some important information 
 from this girl, upon whose gratitude they had certainly 
 established a claim. 
 
 The house was a strange one. 
 
 The terrible shrieks the young girl had uttered would, 
 one would have thought, have had the effect of bringing 
 every inmate of the house to the scene of action. 
 
 But no one came, and no notice whatever appeared to 
 be taken of them. 
 
 Apparently the same result would follow the noise of 
 the attack and the cries of Mother Robotham. 
 
 In fact, brawls and disturbances of various lands were 
 so very common in that house that no one troubled them- 
 selves when they heard a shriek or two, but contented 
 themselves with thinking that it was none of their busi- 
 ness. 
 
 So on the present occasion, although several had heard 
 the " row," as they termed it, yet none of them thought 
 for a moment of interfering. 
 
 This was what Mother Robotham herself had repeatedly 
 enjoined ; but now, as she lay writhing on tho floor and 
 gasping for breath, sho bitterly repented having done 
 so. 
 
 Both her and her no less infamous associate were, 
 however, so thoroughly helpless that our two friends 
 ceased to trouble themselves in the slightest degree about 
 them. 
 
 They could make no noise, and were powerless to make 
 any attack upon them or leave the room. 
 
 The young girl received, then, tho whole of their atten- 
 tion, and they soon had tho satisfaction of perceiving her 
 come back to life, and open her eyes. 
 
 Assuringly and soothingly Jack spoke to her, telling 
 her that sho had no longer anything to feai - , and that 
 they would see her in safety out of that horrible abode. 
 
 She thanked them earnestly. 
 
 The room was too dark for them to see each other'3 
 faces distinctly, but Jack soon remedied that by going up 
 to the fire and causing it to burst into a bright blaze by 
 giving it a vigorous poke or two. 
 
 The room was then tolerably well illuminated. 
 
 At her request, the young girl was raised to her feet, 
 and again she poured out her thanks to our two friends 
 for their timely interference. 
 
 " How you came to be here, I know not," she said. 
 "But, oh, take me away, or they will kill me!" 
 
 "We will take you away, never fear!" said Blueskin ; 
 " but we want you to give us some information." 
 
 " What, what — tell me, what !' I shall rejoice if I am
 
 544 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE, 
 
 ivblo to do any thing to repay you for what you have done 
 for me." 
 
 " Our errand here," said Blueskin, "concerns a young 
 girl like yourself. Do you know anything of her?" 
 "Who is she?" 
 
 " I forgot. I have not yet given you any particulars. 
 The young girl we wish to find was, wo are informed, 
 brought here in an insensible state a few days ago. Do 
 you laiow anything about it ?" 
 "Yes, yes!" 
 "What?" 
 
 " A yonng girl was brought here some days ago," re- 
 plied the girl. 
 
 Blueskin and Jack Sheppard exchanged glances at this 
 corroboration of what the hackney-coachman had told 
 them, and whatever doubts might have lingered in their 
 minds were now completely dissipated. 
 
 " Tell me all you know concerning her," said Jack, in 
 a tone of voice which showed how deeply he was in- 
 terested in the inquiry. " Do not omit any one particular, 
 no matter how unimportant it may seem. In the first 
 place, however, describe the appearance of the young girl 
 to whom you allude." 
 
 This was done, and the description given entirely cor- 
 responded with the appearance of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Jack groaned as the simple words fell from the girl's 
 lips, and she looked up at him, surprised at the exhibition 
 of such extraordinary emotion. 
 
 " Go — on !" he cried, when she had ended her descrip- 
 tion. " Go on ! Tell me what else took place !" 
 
 "Mother Kobotham brought her here in a hackney- 
 coach. She seemed almost dying — I fancy more from 
 want of food than anything else. She was placed in a 
 bed, and every attention paid to her. In a short time 
 she perfectly recovered, and then Mother Eobotham pro- 
 ceeded to make use of her." 
 
 " Make use of her ?" cried Jack, vehemently. " How — 
 what ? Explain yourself." 
 
 " She dressed her out in the very best apparel, and then 
 led her to a magnificent room downstairs, where she left 
 her, and where a young nobleman who frequents this 
 house was introduced to her." 
 
 At hearing these terrible words, Jack clasped his hands 
 over his face and groaned bitterly. 
 
 Blueskin placed his hand upon his shoulder kindly. 
 " Cheer up !" he said, in as assuring voice as he could 
 command. " Do not give up yet, but wait and hear all 
 that this girl has to say. We have not heard all." 
 
 " I dread to hear any more than has just fallen upon my 
 ears," replied Jack, mournfully. 
 
 The young girl's countenance exhibited the utmost 
 degree of curiosity and surprise. 
 
 " I have told you the worst about her," she said. 
 " There, Jack !" said Blueskin. " She says she has told 
 you the worst." 
 
 " Let me hear all !" cried Sheppard. " Where is she 
 now ? Take me to her — take me to her at once !" 
 " Impossible !" 
 
 " No — no ! Not impossible ! Where is she ?" 
 " I know not." 
 
 " Know not ? Did you not say, a moment ago, that a 
 young nobleman was introduced to her ?" 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well — where is she ?" 
 " I tell you, I do not know." 
 "How — why?" 
 
 " Because she left the house with him, and I have never 
 heard or seen anything of either of them since." 
 This was terrible information. 
 
 For a moment Jack Sheppard stood looking at the 
 young girl with a countenance expressive of blank de- 
 spair. 
 
 He did not groan now — he did not move. 
 His agony was too great to be exhibited in any ordinary 
 manner. 
 
 Suddenly his countenance changed. 
 An expression of fierceness came over it. 
 " Here is some terrible juggle," he cried — " I will not 
 believe it ! Lying wench ! is this your gratitude to us for 
 having saved you from the dreadful punishment with 
 which you were threatened? Ketract your words — re- 
 tract them in a moment! Tell me that all you have just 
 said is false !" 
 
 CHAPTEB CCOXL. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD AND BLUESKIN ARE INTERRUPTED W 
 THEIR ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE. 
 
 Carried away by the insensate fury of his grief, Jack 
 Sheppard seized the girl with so much violence, that she 
 cried out with the pain his grasp occasioned. But, alto- 
 gether heedless of this, Jack continued to give utterance 
 to the torrent of words with which the last chapter con- 
 cluded. 
 It was well that he was not alone. 
 It was well that he had one with him whose intellect 
 was clear, and whose mind was less excited than his 
 own. 
 
 Blueskin, although for a moment stunned, as it were, by 
 the terrible revelation which had just been made, re- 
 covered himself quickly, and occupied himself in re- 
 straining the violence of his young companion. 
 
 He knew too well the character and disposition of 
 Edgworth Bess to believe that she had voluntarily left the 
 house with the young nobleman in the equivocal manner 
 suggested. 
 
 If she had really gone, he felt certain in his own mind 
 that she had some good and pure motive for so doing. 
 
 At once, then, he made Jack acquainted with his 
 thoughts ; and there was something so plausible in what 
 he said, that Sheppard immediately grew calm, and 
 felt ashamed of himself for having, for a moment, har- 
 boured an evil thought against her. 
 
 " You are right, Blueskin !" he said — " you are quite 
 right ! I am unfitted for this inquiry ; question the girl 
 yourself." 
 
 " Willingly, Jack ! *We ought to feel glad that Ghance has 
 thrown us in the way of obtaining such information, with- 
 out which we should have wandered in vain over this 
 house, and exposed ourselves to a thousand dangers." 
 
 " Go on !" replied Jack ; " question her ! Obtain from 
 her all the information she is able to give you." 
 
 Having thus spoken, Jack Sheppard turned aside and 
 indulged in his emotions. 
 
 He felt it to be quite out of his power to obtain the 
 mastery of them. 
 
 Perceiving this, and not without hope that by further 
 inquiry he should learn something more assuring, Blue- 
 skin did not offer to interrupt him, but turned his atten- 
 tion to the girl, who was sobbing violently, and down 
 whose cheeks the tears were rolling plentifully. 
 
 " Forgive the harshness and impetuosity of my friend," 
 he said. " If you knew how much he has at stake in this 
 matter, you would cease to wonder at the violence which 
 he has shown. He is most deeply interested in all that 
 concerns the young girl about whom we are making 
 these inquiries. For his sake, then, let mo ask you to tell 
 me all you know, and to reserve no single circum- 
 stance." 
 
 " I will, indeed I will !" she sobbingly replied. " In 
 fact, I have already told you almost all. During her ill- 
 ness I frequently waited upon her, and I am sure there is no 
 doubt about her being the same. Then, as I said, Mother 
 Eobotham had her dressed off in the best style, and intro- 
 duced to the young nobleman. What passed between 
 them I know not. They remained in the room some 
 time together, and then came forth. Her hand was rest- 
 ing on his arm. In the hall they encountered Mother 
 Robotham. A quarrel took place between them, which 
 terminated in the young nobleman leading her out of the 
 house. More than this I know not, for I have not seen 
 either of them since." 
 
 At this plain and straightforward narrative, about the 
 truth of which Blueskin had no doubt, his emotions almost 
 overcame him. 
 
 The conclusions that were to be deduced from it were 
 terrible. 
 
 There was something in the conduct of Edgworth Bess 
 which he could not comprehend. 
 
 In fact, all was doubt, confusion, and dismay. 
 By a tremendous effort, he mastered his feelings. 
 "Who was this young nobleman?" he asked. "Tell 
 me his name." 
 
 " Alas ! I know it not." 
 
 " But you said that he was in the habit of frequenting 
 this house." 
 
 " So he is, sir ; but I do not know his name, for all that 
 Wo never learn their names."
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 545 
 
 EDGWORTH BESS IS RESCUED FROM THE RIVER. 
 
 "I see, I see ! And you said ho was a nobleman. How 
 did you learn his rank ?" 
 
 "By his dress." 
 
 "True— I forgot that. When did these events take 
 place?" 
 
 "Last night." 
 
 "Last night?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 _ " Then if -we had corae here last night, instead of to- 
 night, we should have been able to intercept her ?" 
 
 " Probably you would, sir, for she was here until nearly 
 daybreak." 
 
 Another groan from Jack Sheppard made Blueskin 
 aware that he was listening to all that was taking place, 
 and had just become conscious of tliis last piece of intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 Blueskin himself clasped his hands in despair. 
 
 "Alas, alas!" he cried; "what is now to be done? 
 Once more, it so-sms. we are without the slightest clue to 
 guide us !" 
 No. 69. 
 
 The girl for awhile was silent. At length she said : 
 
 " I am sorry I could not give you any better news ; but 
 I assure you, sir, that I have spoken the truth." 
 
 " I do not doubt you," said Blueskin, " I do not doubt 
 you for a moment ; and our best thanks are due to you for 
 the information you have given us, unpleasant aa it is. 
 Without it, we should have been exposing our lives in 
 vain. Accept our best thanks." 
 
 "Nay, it is from me that the thanks are due," said the 
 girl, "for having saved me from the ill-treatment to which 
 I was about to be subjected ; and if " 
 
 " If what ? Speak freely. Do not be afraid to give 
 utterance to anything which you might wish to say." 
 
 " I was about to ask you to place me under still further 
 obligation to you." 
 
 " In what manner ? Again I say, do not be afraid to 
 speak." 
 
 " I imagined, then, that, as the girl of whom you are in 
 search is no longer here, you would shortly leave this 
 place." 
 
 No. 69.
 
 546 
 
 BLUESKTN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 "Sucb is our intention. We can do no good by re- 
 claming here, and therefore it behoves us to be gone." 
 
 "I thought so, sir, and " 
 
 " What is it you wished us to do ?" 
 
 "To allow me to accompany you out of this house '•'• 
 
 •Most willingly [" 
 
 " Thanks — oh, thanks ! I will not trouble you any fur- 
 ther than to allow me to go with you to the front door. 
 Once in the street, I shall not care. If I remain in the 
 house, I am sure to be ill-treated, perhaps murdered ; for 
 I can assure you, sir, the peoplo hero are by no means 
 particular as to what they do. And to leave this house, 
 unless under your protection, would be impossible." 
 
 " Think nothing of that — think nothing of that !" said 
 Blueskin, soothingly. " We will willingly enough see you 
 free from this den. Indeed, wo should have clone so had 
 you not made the request." 
 
 "Thanks, thanks!" 
 
 "We will leave at once," said Bluesldn 5 and as he 
 spoke he turned round towards his comrade. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was wholly overcome. 
 
 The information ho had just received was by far of a 
 more terrible character than ho had anticipated. 
 
 Not in moments of the blackest and deepest despair had 
 he pictured to himself anything so dreadful as this. 
 
 Nothing could be worse. 
 
 At first, Blueskin found all his efforts to rouse him 
 vain. 
 
 Ho had sunk down on a kind of ottoman near the 
 fire. 
 
 His head was buried in his hands, and his whole atti- 
 tude denoted tho deepest and most abject grief. 
 
 By degrees, however, Blueskin succeeded in making 
 himself heard. 
 
 "Come, Jack!" he. said, "be a man — be firm! Things 
 look bad now; but, then, their aspect may be altered. 
 There is not much room for hope, I confess ; still, I think 
 you ought not to give up without further proof than you 
 at present possess. No further good will result from our 
 remaining in this house. Let us, then, leave it, v.'iile we 
 have an opportunity of doing so. Come, Jack, come !'' 
 
 " No matter, no matter, Blueskin ! Leave me here — as 
 well leave me here as anywhere. Seek your own safety, 
 and do not heed mine, for I no longer heed it myself !" 
 
 " I will not !" replied Blueskin, " I cannot ! How do 
 you know under what circumstances Edgworth Boss left 
 the house ? It may be that she won upon the sympathies 
 of the young nobleman so far as to induce him to escort 
 her from this house ; and, at the present moment, it may 
 be that she is waiting in some place of security for us to 
 present ourselves before her." 
 
 This was but a frail hope, and Bluesldn felt that it was 
 so ; but still, no better suggested itself upon the spur of 
 the moment, and he had the satisfaction of perceiving that, 
 slight as it was, Jack Sheppard caught at it. 
 
 He removed his hands from his face, and, looking up, 
 said: 
 
 " It may be so — Blueskin, it may be so ; for I cannot 
 bring myself to think that Edgworth Bess would leave 
 the house in the manner intimated. Blueskin, I feel that 
 you are right !" 
 
 " That is well, then. Rise and quit this house, and we 
 shall at least have some opportunity of ascertaining whether 
 this surmise is, or is not, correct." 
 
 "We shall," said Jack, starting to his feet, and trying to 
 banish the remnant of his emotion. 
 
 " Be careful !" said Bluesldn ; " I fancy that we shall 
 find it by far more difficult to leave this place than we did 
 to enter it!" 
 
 " By what means do you propose to leave it ?" 
 
 I' I havenot thought of that. Doubtless, upon this 
 point the girl will be able to give us important informa- 
 tion by telling us which would be the easiest and the 
 readiest means for us to gain the street." 
 
 " Ask her ; doubtless, from having been an inmate of 
 this house, she will be able to tell you what you desire to 
 know." 
 
 Blueskin turned round, and once more addressed him- 
 self to the girl, who had been watching them eageily 
 during the time this little conference had taken place. 
 
 "Tell me," said Blueskin, "which do you think will be 
 the best way for us to quit this house ?" 
 
 The young girl made no immediate reply, and Blueskin, 
 fancying she did not understand his question, added; 
 
 " I mean, which way can we leave this house so as <o 
 incur the smallest possible amount of danger ?" 
 
 " I understand you, sir," was the reply ; " I was con- 
 sidering which would be tho best." 
 
 " Take time to reflect ; by no means reply hastily." 
 _ " Tho principal people in the house are here," said tho 
 girl, pointing to the prostrate forms of Mother Kobotham 
 and her associate ; " we shall have no one but the servants 
 to contend with." 
 
 "In which way should we stand the best chance of 
 avoiding them ?" 
 
 " I do not think you could do better than descend tho 
 st&ircaso into the hall, and pass out by the front door." 
 
 " Who shall wo be likely to meet ?" 
 
 " I think only tho porter, who sits in tho easy chair, 
 and whose duty it is to let people in and out. In all pro- 
 bability he will be asleep." 
 
 " Then we should have a good chance of passing him 
 unperceived ?" 
 
 "Oli, yes!" 
 
 " Then the front door bo it ! What do you say, Jack ?" 
 
 " The front door, by all means !" 
 
 " Come, then, at once — there is no time to lose !" 
 
 " I am loth to go," said Jack, " without first punishing 
 those two wretches yonder." 
 
 "Leave them," replied Blueskin — "leave them; they 
 are utterly unworthy of your resentment." 
 
 " I am unwilling." 
 
 " Nay, nay ! By lingering wo may bring upon ourselves 
 great danger. Take good advice. Follow this young 
 girl, who will lead the way." 
 
 "Yes, yes — oh, yes!" 
 
 "Come!" 
 
 Blueskin grasped Jack's arm as he spoke, and led him 
 after the girl, who had already crossed the apartment. 
 
 She went direct to the door of the bedchamber through 
 which our two friends had come. 
 
 Crossing this, she emerged on to the landing. 
 
 Here the little party paused to listen. 
 
 No sound, either from above or below, however, saluied 
 their ears. 
 
 The stillness of the very grave reigned in the house. 
 
 Before leaving the room in which this singular scene 
 had taken place, they were careful to asceilain that their 
 prisoner were perfectly secure. 
 
 They then closed all the doors, so as to preclude the 
 possibility of any sound they might make being ablo to 
 reach to any great distance. 
 
 Encouraged by tho silence, the trio now ventured to 
 commence the descent of the stairs. 
 
 The staircase was a broad and ample one, and was most 
 beautifully carpeted, so that it was the easiest matter in 
 the world for them to descend without making a 
 sound. 
 
 At convenient distances lamps were placed in niches, 
 and these lighted up the whole of the place. 
 
 This was at once an advantage and a disadvantage. 
 
 The landing below was reached in safety and silence, 
 and here they again paused to listen. 
 
 The stillness was unbroken. 
 
 Suddenly one of the doors close behind them was 
 opened. 
 
 An ejaculation fell upon their ears, and the door closed 
 again before sither of our friends had time to turn round 
 and look. 
 
 " Quick !" said the girl. " Descend at once !" 
 
 " Who was it ?" 
 
 "I know not; perhaps someone who was about to 
 emerge, and who then drew back upon seeing us. I do 
 not think there is much ground for apprehension if we are 
 speedy." 
 
 " Come on, then !" 
 
 Again the descent was commenced, and almost imme- 
 diately afterwards a turn in the staircase disclosed tho 
 hall below. 
 
 At some distance was the front door, and near it a hugo, 
 easy chair, in which they had been led to suppose the 
 porter would be sitting. 
 
 A second glance convinced them of the correctness of 
 this information, for the legs of that individual could be 
 seen, all the rest of his body being hidden in the pro- 
 fundities of the stuffed leather chair. 
 
 Whether he was asleep or awake was a question that 
 had yet to be solved.
 
 BLUEiKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 547 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXLI. 
 
 EXPLAINS TO THE READER THE CAUSE OF THE (SUDDEN 
 AND UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE OF THE POLICE OFFICERS. 
 
 At any rate, at present he appeared to be unconscious of 
 their presence, for he made no movement whatever. 
 
 The critical moment had now arrived ; but, from the 
 general aspect of affairs, they anticipated but little diffi- 
 culty in being able to leave the house. 
 
 Those anticipations were, however, doomed not to be 
 realised. 
 
 Jack was exceedingly confident. 
 
 " I will go first," he said, in a faint whisper ; " you re- 
 main where you are for a moment." 
 
 " What are you about to do ?" 
 
 " I will steal silently up to the old porter, and thrust 
 the muzzle of a pistol into his ear, commanding him, on 
 pain of having his brains blown out, to open the door !" 
 
 " Go on," said Blueskin ; " that will do !" 
 
 " You wait here, then." 
 
 "All right!" 
 
 Upon receiving this assurance, Jack crept slowly, but 
 noiselessly, down the staircase. 
 
 The hall was covered with some soft, carpety substance, 
 60 he was able to stride over it without making sound 
 enough to disturb anyone. 
 
 The amount of stealth and caution made 'use of may 
 have been greater than necessary, but if so, it was a mis- 
 take made on the right side. 
 
 • At length Jack stood within arm's-length of the huge 
 leather chair. 
 
 As yet there were no indications of his approach having 
 been noted. 
 
 The porter did not move, and by his deep and ster- 
 torous breathing, which was now plainly to be heard, 
 Jack concluded he slept. 
 
 One step more, and he stood before him. 
 
 The light of a lamp near the door streaming full upon 
 the porter's countenance confirmed this supposition. 
 
 He was sound asleep. 
 
 This changed the current of Jack's intentions. 
 
 Seeing his condition, he doubted not that they should 
 all be able to leave the house without attracting his obser- 
 vation. 
 
 He resolved, at any rate, to make the attempt, and 
 turned towards the front door. 
 
 That he should be able to remove the fastenings readily, 
 he did not for a moment doubt. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had his hand touched the knob than 
 the porter awoke. 
 
 He uttered an exclamation, and, springing from his 
 seat, seized Jack in a moment. 
 
 But Sheppard saw him coming, and was by no means 
 taken by surprise. 
 
 He grappled him by the throat, which he compressed 
 .so forcibly as to make further speech impossible. 
 
 Then, thrusting the muzzle of the pistol into his ear, 
 as he had at first intended to do, he cried, in a low, hoarse, 
 guttural voice : 
 
 " Silence — silence, for your life ! Open the door, and 
 allow us to depart, or, as sure as this is a pistol, I will 
 blow your brains out !" 
 
 The porter's countenance changed when this ferocious 
 speech fell upon his ears, and he nodded his head violently, 
 as though to intimate that he would allow them to pass 
 out. 
 
 All this Blueskin had seen from the distance, and he 
 now hastened to the door, accompanied by the girl, whose 
 delight at the apparently near prospect of freedom knew 
 no bounds. 
 
 Just, however, when Blueskin reached Jack's side, a 
 sudden uproar took place without. 
 
 In the street, the trampling of many feet and the hum 
 of voices came plainly to their ears. 
 
 What this portended they could not guess, and thev re- 
 mained motionless and aghast, looking in each <•■ r's 
 faces for some explanation of the uproar. 
 
 It was in vain. 
 
 Before they had time to recover from their ama; 
 the trampling feet paused outside the door, upon whi :h a 
 ehower of heavy blows was immediately rained. 
 
 Every one seemed to strike upon our friends' hearts, 
 and render thea incapable of motion. 
 
 " Open, open !' cried a loud voice ; "in the name of the 
 King, I call upon you to open the door !" 
 
 The porter trembled. 
 
 He was no less terrified and astonished than our two 
 friends. 
 
 Finding no notice was taken of their command, another 
 violent succession of blows were rained upon the door, 
 before one of which it gave way. 
 
 Th's faot was, the door, for convenissco in opening and 
 cl,)siug. was only fastened with a spring latch, the 
 stnmgu. of which was quite inadequate to support the 
 door should an attack be made upon it. 
 
 Jack, bewildered by the sudden and unexpected nature 
 of this assault, released his hold upon the porter, and re- 
 treated in the direction of the staircase. 
 
 He was rapidly followed by Blueskin and the young 
 girl. 
 
 A glance showed them that the attack had been made 
 by a large body of police officers. 
 
 Not Wild's myrmidons, be it understood, but genuino 
 Bow Street Runners. 
 
 What could be their errand in that place it would be 
 hard to say, though naturally enough Blueskin and Jack 
 connected their sudden appearance with themselves. 
 
 In this they were in error. 
 
 This attack by the police upon the mysterious house in 
 Spring Gardens had nothing to do with our two friends, 
 who happened most unluckily to be there at that particular 
 time. 
 
 The officers never dreamt that they should find Jack 
 Sheppard there, whose capture they had almost begun to 
 despair of effecting, and for whose apprehension suih a 
 very large reward was offered. 
 
 The explanation of their sudden appearance is simple in 
 the extreme, and we at once hasten to place it before the 
 reader. 
 
 It will be remembered, in the conversation which Blue- 
 skin and Jack Sheppard overheard between Mother Robo- 
 tb<vi and her no less infamous associate, allusion was 
 made to a certain young sea officer, who had been lured 
 into that house. 
 
 He had been brought by a person whose especial duty 
 it was to creep about London streets in search of victims. 
 
 This sea officer was a lieutenant on board a man-of-war 
 which had just come into port, and he in common with 
 many more had come up to London to spend the money 
 which they had just received. 
 
 Sailor-like, he fell an easy prey to the person by whom 
 he was accosted and led to the house in Spring Gar- 
 dens. 
 
 By this time he had drank sufficient to render his brain 
 clouded, though he was far from being intoxicated. 
 
 His full pockets and his state did not escape the keen 
 eyes of Mother Robotham. 
 
 Her resolve was immediately taken. 
 
 He was introduced to the girl who was about to be chas- 
 tised, and a quantity of drugged liquor placed beforo 
 him. 
 
 Had he partaken of this, he would have become helpless 
 and unconscious. 
 
 His pockets would then have been rifled, and every 
 valuable article he earned would have been taken. 
 
 Then, still in the same state, he would have been 
 carried to some distant quarter of the metropolis, laid 
 down in the street, or propped up against a door-step. 
 
 It was in this way that very many persons had been 
 served. 
 
 In fact, it was quite a common thing with Mother Ro- 
 botham, and no inconsiderable quantity of her revenue 
 was acquired by this means. 
 
 Hitherto she had escaped conviction, but not suspicion. 
 
 Persons who had been served in this maimer, waking 
 up and discovering themselves in the street, would not 
 wonder at finding their pockets empty, and, generally 
 speaking, their intellects were in too confused a condition 
 for them to be able to recollect with certainty the house to 
 which they had been taken. 
 
 In fact, it was part of the duty of the decoy by whom 
 they wore lured to destruction to ply them with drink on 
 the way. and so occupy their attention as to make them 
 forget altogether to notice whither they were led. 
 
 It was thus that Mother Robotham committed her iu« 
 famous deeds with impunity. 
 
 But the end had now arrived.
 
 Si8 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 At all risks, the young giid who was inti'oduced deter- 
 mined to warn the next victim of his fate. 
 
 That next victim was the young officer. 
 
 She told him of his danger— informed him that the 
 wine was drugged — that he would be plundered — perhaps 
 murdered. 
 
 This startling communication had the effect of sobering 
 him, though his brain was still in a state of terrible con- 
 fusion, rendering him incapable of acting or thinking as 
 he otherwise would have done. 
 
 The conversation that had just taken place had bt>en 
 overheard. 
 
 On the other side of the door with her ear against the 
 keyhole, was Mother Robotham. 
 
 Boiling over with rage, she called aloud for help, and 
 sprang into the room. 
 
 She seized the young officer in her grasp, and doubtless, 
 could she but have retained him until assistance arrived, 
 he would never have been permitted to leave the house 
 alive. 
 
 The possessor of such secrets would be ruthlessly mur- 
 dered in cold blood. 
 
 The young officer, however, was quite sober enough to 
 struggle with his assailant. 
 
 Not without difficulty he shook her off, and then, having 
 done so, he discovered that fresh foes were in the door- 
 way. 
 
 He cast his eyes around. 
 
 He had but one idea, and that was to escape. 
 
 Before him was a window. 
 
 Quite heedless as to where it led, he made a sudden 
 rush and sprang through it. 
 
 There was a terrific crash, and the next moment he felt 
 himself come into violent contact with the ground. 
 
 But the consciousness that his life was in danger was 
 vividly before his mind, and prevented him from relapsing 
 into insensibility. 
 
 Up he sprang. 
 
 A glance showed him he was in the street, and no 
 sooner was he aware of this, than he set off at full speed, 
 without taking the least notice of the direction in which 
 he was hurrying. 
 
 At length, as his brain cooled and his physical powers 
 failed him, he halted, and then discovered that he was not 
 pursued. 
 
 Reflection now came properly back to his mind. 
 
 Clasping his hands over his temples, he leant against a 
 doorway and strove to think clearly of the occurrences of 
 the past. 
 
 For a time he could not recollect how he came into that 
 house, or where it was situated. 
 
 By degrees, however, he remembered the man by whom 
 he had been decoyed, and then he recollected entering a 
 public-house at Charing Cross, almost immediately after 
 which he entered the house. 
 
 It was not until this moment that the thoughts of the 
 lieutenant reverted to the young girl to whom alone he 
 was indebted for his escape from the awful den. 
 _ For the first time he became aware that their conversa- 
 tion had been overheard. 
 
 He shuddered. 
 
 That the young girl would suffer some horrible punish- 
 ment at the hands of the fiends who inhabited the place, 
 he felt convinced. 
 
 The danger of returning would be great indeed, and 
 yet his gratitude would not permit him to allow her to 
 remain at the mercy of such people as she would have to 
 deal with. 
 
 What to do for the best he scarcely knew. 
 
 He had passed nearly the whole of his life on the ocean, 
 and knew but little how affairs were managed on land. 
 
 He felt the want of advice, and came to the resolution 
 of taking into his confidence the first person he met. 
 
 But the hour was a lonely one, and the streets were de- 
 serted. 
 
 A light in the distance, however, attracted his attention, 
 and he made his way towards it. 
 
 The light came from the windows of a public-house. 
 
 Here he determined to enter. 
 
 At the bar several parsons were standing. 
 
 He called for cold rum-and-water, and desired to speak 
 to the landlord. 
 
 To this individual he related everything. 
 
 The landlord coupled this narrative in a moment with 
 
 the mysterious robberies that had of late been so frequent, 
 one of which had happened only a day or so ago, and the 
 victim was discovered within a few yards of the house. 
 
 It so happened that among the persons who stood at 
 the bar was a Bow Street Runner, as the police officers 
 were then called. 
 
 To him the communication was next made. 
 
 This officer, scenting something unusual, at once took 
 charge of the young sailor, and calling a hackney-coach, 
 ordered the jarvey to drive them direct to Bow Street. 
 
 On then - arrival at the head police station, the inspector 
 was made acquainted with the strange story, as well as 
 with the surmises of the landlord of the public-house. 
 
 The inspector of course did not hesitate as to what 
 should be done. 
 
 A number of the men were called up and got in readi- 
 ness, and the little party set off in the direction of Charing 
 Cross. 
 
 Upon arriving here, the officer pointed out the public- 
 house into which he had been taken, though it was now 
 closed. 
 
 The difficult part of the business now remained. 
 
 Would he be able to find the house or not ? 
 
 The sailor thought deeply, and called back to his mind 
 every little circumstance that had occurred. 
 
 Then, placing his back against the door of the public- 
 house, as though he had just come out of it, he crossed 
 over the wide open space in the direction of Spring Gar- 
 dens. 
 
 Here he paused irresolutely, and then went on until 
 at length he paused before No. 57. 
 
 The officers all looked up at the house, and several re- 
 cognised it as the den kept by Mother Robotham. 
 
 The suspicions which had been previously entertained 
 respecting her were revived with redoubled force, and at 
 length, confident that they were right, and that they were 
 about to make some startling discoveries, the officers 
 rushed into the house in the manner we have recorded. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXLIL 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS CAPTURED BT THE POLICE, AND 
 BLUESKTN IS HOTLY PURSUED THROUGH THE EMPTY 
 HOUSE. 
 
 Such, then, was the simple enough explanation of the 
 apparently mysterious and unaccountable appearance of 
 the police officers at the hoitse in Spring Gardens. 
 
 It is surprising how great a difference a few moments 
 will sometimes make. 
 
 Had the officers arrived a little later, or had our friends 
 been a little earlier, this veiy disastrous rencontre would 
 have been avoided. 
 
 But fate had ordained it otherwise. 
 
 The officer in command had issued instructions to his 
 subordinates to take into custody every person, male or 
 female, that they found within the house, so as to pre- 
 clude the possibility of allowing one of the guilty parties 
 to slip through their fingers. 
 
 The first person seized was the porter. 
 
 Despite his struggles, he was securely handcuffed, and 
 left in charge of two of the force. 
 
 The remainder having caught sight of the retreating 
 figures of our friends, made a rush towards the stairs, and 
 hastened up after them. 
 
 Finding it impossible to leave the house by the front 
 door, Jack and Bluesldn naturally bethought themselves 
 of the trap-door, by means of which they had in the first 
 instance gained admission. 
 
 Embarrassed as they now were with the young girl, the 
 difficulty of leaving by this means was very much in- 
 creased. 
 
 Still they did not doubt their capabilities to overcome 
 a difficulty of this description. 
 
 Away, then, they went up the stairs, with such speed as 
 only those could make who were similarly situated. 
 
 In less time than would be believed possible, the top of 
 the house was reached. 
 
 But the officers were close behind them, and before it 
 could be possible for them to pass through the trap-door, 
 would stand where they now stood. 
 
 Some means must therefore be adopted of checking 
 their advance, so as to give them the time necessary to 
 make their escape.
 
 5±9 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Hastily Jack opened the door nearest to him. 
 
 A faint shriek came from within the chamber, showing 
 that someone was disturbed. 
 
 In a stern voice, Blueskin bade them be silent. 
 
 Just inside the room was a large chest of drawers. 
 
 " This will do," cried Jack, " help me with it. "We 
 will roll it down the stairs, and I fancy that will be 
 rather difficult to clamber over." 
 
 Blueskin did not reply in words, but showed that he 
 hilly approved of Jack's suggestion by putting his 
 shoulder against the chest of drawers and commencing 
 to push it towards the head of the stairs. 
 
 In this he was seconded by Jack, and the young girl, 
 too, exerted all the strength which she possessed to the 
 same end. 
 
 The brief delay that had taken place in making the 
 watchman prisoner had enabled our friends to get a good 
 start of their foes. 
 
 Now, however, they could hear them trampling up the 
 staircase, and it seemed doubtful, after all the trouble they 
 had taken, whether they would be in time to achieve their 
 object. 
 
 The proximity of the officers endowed Jack and Blue- 
 skin with an amount of strength which was surprising 
 even to themselves. 
 
 Swiftly the huge chest of drawers was pushed across 
 the landing. 
 
 But when the top of the stairs was reached, the police 
 officers were already visible below. 
 
 Another minute, and they would be too late. 
 
 Exerting all their strength, however, they pushed the 
 heavy piece of furniture over. 
 
 With a crash that seemed to shake the house to its foun- 
 dations, the chest of drawers plunged down the stairs. 
 
 The police officers both heard and saw it coming, and 
 drew back. 
 
 The action was an involuntary one. 
 
 The chest of drawers did not fall far. 
 
 It wedged Itself into the first angle of the stairs, and 
 there remained. 
 
 Apparently, it was so firmly fixed in its present position 
 that it would be impossible to move it, except from above, 
 and by means of instruments especially adapted for the 
 purpose. 
 
 This was enough to fill our friends with exultation, and 
 with reanimated hopes of succeeding in effecting their 
 escape, they turned to the trap-door. 
 
 It was just possible that the officers would be able to 
 climb over the obstacle thus unexpectedly thrown before 
 them, but it would be the work of time. 
 
 This vigorous proceeding to cover their retreat sug- 
 gested to the officers that they were on the track of some 
 very desperate persons, for as yet, be it understood, they 
 had no idea that it was [Jack Sheppard and the notorious 
 Blueskin who were before them. 
 
 Had they possessed such knowledge, their pursuit would 
 probably have been more energetic than it was. 
 
 Just, however, as the chest of drawers was rolled down, 
 the foremost of the police caught sight of their anta- 
 gonists. 
 
 They recognised them immediately, and announced that 
 fact by giving utterance to a loud shout. 
 
 Indeed, it is certain that at this time there was not a 
 member of the force who was not well acquainted with 
 their personal appearance, for innumerable bills had been 
 circulated both by the Government and Jonathan Wild, in 
 which they were most minutely described. 
 
 Despite, therefore, their late change of habiliments, they 
 recognised them at the first glance. 
 
 Our friends heard the shout, and came to a tolerably 
 correct conclusion as to the cause of it. 
 
 Still they did not permit it to unnerve them. 
 
 Apparently with as much coolness as ever, Jack 
 said : 
 
 " We shall do it now, Blueskin, if we are careful ! Be 
 quick! You are the tallest ! Spring up to the trap-door, 
 and I will hand the girl up to you !" 
 
 There was no time to argue about what should be done, 
 and Blueskin at once sprang up to the trap-door as ;his 
 companion had desired. 
 
 He managed to grasp the edge with his fingers, but 
 quickly tightening his hold, he lightly and rapidly drew 
 himself up. 
 
 No sooner did ho feel himself on tho rafters, than, lying 
 
 down on his face, he held his arms in readiness to take 
 hold of the young girl. 
 
 In the meantime, Jack Sheppard seized her by the 
 waist and succeeded in lifting her high enough for Blue- 
 skin to take hold of her. 
 
 Our old friend seized her in a moment, and, not without 
 some difficulty, drew her up into the space between the 
 tiles and the ceiling. 
 
 " I am coming," said Jack. " Never you mind me, but 
 leave me to take care of myself. Get the girl out on to 
 the roof !" 
 
 Blueskin obeyed. 
 
 He was in the act of placing her on the outside, when a 
 pistol-shot and a great tumult warned him that something 
 serious was taking place below. 
 
 In a moment he looked down, and nearly lost his life 
 by so doing. 
 
 No sooner did he appear, than something whistled past 
 his head, and a bright flash and a report simultaneously 
 occurring, told him that a pistol had been discharged in 
 his face. 
 
 By the narrowest chance in the world, he escaped re- 
 ceiving any injury. 
 
 But the sight below was one for which he was totally 
 unprepared, and he could scarcely relieve that so much 
 had taken place in such a short space of time. 
 
 He had scarcely left the trap-door a moment, and now, 
 when he looked down, the landing was swarming with 
 officers, and Jack was struggling desperately in the grasp 
 of several, but hopelessly a prisoner. 
 
 This is what had happened. 
 
 Jack's attention had been so centred in handing up the 
 girl to Blueskin, and preparing to spring up to the trap- 
 door himself, that he did not notice the progress the 
 officers were making. 
 
 They had, however, succeeded in climbing over the 
 barrier, which at first seemed insurmountable ; and Jack 
 Sheppard did not see that they had done this until it was 
 too late. 
 
 He made a wild spring upwards, and succeeded in catch- 
 ing hold of the edge of the opening. 
 
 Fearful that he would make his escape, and as they had 
 instructions to take him alive or dead, one of tho officers 
 drew a pistol and fired at him. 
 
 He took aim at his head, but a sudden movement which 
 Jack made at the moment saved him, and the bullet struck 
 the fleshy part of his arm instead. 
 
 The effect of this was to deprive him of all use in the 
 limb, and he dropped to the floor with an irrepressible cry 
 of agony upon his lips. 
 
 Ere he could recover himself, the officers were upon 
 him. 
 
 As soon as he felt himself seized, he struggled des- 
 perately but vainly with his captors. 
 
 The grasp they kept upon him was too tight a one to be 
 shaken off. 
 
 But still he struggled, though all he did was to uselessly 
 exhaust his worn strength, for the number of officers kept 
 iucreasing every moment. 
 
 Another of their number, looking up, perceived Blue- 
 skin at the opening in the ceiling above, and, doubtless 
 encouraged by the success which had followed the firing 
 of a pistol just before, drew another from his belt, and 
 aimed it at the face which he could only just distin- 
 guish. 
 
 His shot failed altogether. 
 
 The bullet flew high in the air over the house-tops, and 
 fell down again without inflicting the least injury upon 
 anyone. 
 
 And now, in spite of his struggles to prevent it, a pair 
 of handcuffs were slipped over Jack's wrists. 
 
 As soon as he saw this, and the number of police officers 
 surrounding him, the vague idea which had for a moment 
 filled Blueskin 's mind, of jumping down and rescuing him, 
 was quite baarished, and he found it would require the 
 exercise of all his energies to escape himself. 
 
 He had two alternatives before him, and he did not 
 hesitate a moment as to which he should adopt. 
 
 One was, to remain where he was, and be captured along 
 with his comrade ; and the other was, to try his best to 
 escape, and leave him to deal with his enemies as best he 
 might. 
 
 The latter may sound veiy much like desertion, but yet 
 it was the course which Blueskin adopted, and no one
 
 550 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 could ever accuse him of the cowardly action of deserting 
 his companion in the hour of danger. 
 
 But Blueskin was well aware that while he was at 
 liberty he should be in a position to render assistance to 
 his friend in captivity. 
 
 Should both, however, be made prisoners, it would be 
 utterly impossible for one to be the least assistance to the 
 other. 
 
 Besides, he had faith in Jack's own power to outwit his 
 foes. 
 
 He had done such a thing before, and doubtless WffUM 
 be able to do so again. 
 
 At any rate, as he could do no good by remaining, or 
 attempting the rescue of Jack, Blueskin made his way out 
 on to the roof. 
 
 He was compelled to be speedy in his movements, for 
 the officers were preparing to pursue him. 
 
 To get on to the roof, and reach the spot where he had 
 left the young girl, did not take Blueskin a moment, and 
 having done so, he said : 
 
 "Quick — quick! For my sake be quick! You have 
 nothing to fear from the officers, but I have ; and unless I 
 am speedy I shall be captured. I cannot leave you here, 
 but as soon as we reach a place of greater safety we will 
 separate." 
 
 " No, no !" said the girl ; " leave me here : I am not 
 afraid. The officers will not harm me; and perhaps I 
 shall be able to detain them for a moment, and so give you 
 an additional chance of escape, whereas I feel that if I 
 remain with you I shall be so great a clog upon all your 
 movements, that you will certainly be captured." 
 
 The young girl spoke with energy and rapidity. 
 
 Blueskin did not hesitate to avail himself of her offer. 
 
 He knew that while she remained there she would incur 
 no danger whatever. 
 
 The police-officers would have no charge to make against 
 her; and, as she had said, she should be able to detain his 
 enemies for a moment. 
 
 Hurriedly thanking her for her offer, Blueskin crept 
 over the tiles with as much speed as was consonant with 
 safety. 
 
 The officers were, however, alarmingly close behind him. 
 
 Already they had emerged on to the roof. 
 
 Lucidly, the distance to the trap-door was but trifling ; 
 and, as it seemed instinctively, Blueskin made his way 
 towards this. 
 
 With a recklessness of personal consequences which 
 under no other circumstances he would have exhibited, 
 he lowered himself through the trap-door. 
 
 He reached the floor beneath with a rather violent shock ; 
 and he limped for a little while afterwards, having slightly 
 sprained his ankle. 
 
 About such a trivial misfortune as this he had no time 
 to' linger, and with breakneck speed ho descended the 
 stairs. 
 
 Upon reaching the first floor he paused. 
 
 Then opening a door close at hand, he entered a room 
 in the front of the house. 
 
 Cautiously approaching the window, he looked out. 
 
 As he had expected, ho had a tolerably good view of the 
 street beneath. 
 
 To his mortification, he discovered it was filled with 
 people. 
 
 His original intention had been to make his way to the 
 front door and pass out of it. 
 
 The crowded state of the street now rendered it im- 
 practicable, for, if he emerged, his detection would be 
 certain. 
 
 Some other means must bo found, and that, too, without 
 delay. 
 
 Turning away from the window, he once more made 
 his way to the landing. 
 
 Just as he reached it, a tremendous lumbering sound, 
 which clearly came from above, struck upon his ears. 
 
 " It is the officers !" said Blueskin. " Already they have 
 tracked me thus far." , * , 
 
 _____ v - 1 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXLIII. 
 
 RELATES WHAT HAPPENED TO EDGWORTH BESS .AFTER 
 HER FRANTIC LEAP INTO THE THAMES. 
 
 It is now time that we returned to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 It is true that to do so we leave, for a short time, Jack 
 Bheppaid and Blueskin in a situation of great peril, yet 
 
 the condition of the poor heiress is scarcely less desperate. 
 
 It will be recollected that when we saw her last, was 
 when, after having fled wildly and madly from Mrs. Pike's 
 the shroud-maker, she had reached the banks of the river 
 Thames. 
 
 Unquestionably the fire of insanity was burning in her 
 brain when she arrived at the spot. 
 
 She was only dimly conscious of what she was about, 
 and seemed to be urged towards the darkly flowing water 
 1 by some evil spirit. 
 
 As the waves plashed against the barges that were 
 moored upon the banks or against the walls of tho 
 wharves, they seemed to say : " Rest — rest — rest !" and 
 the foamy tips of the waves as they receded from the 
 shore seemed to beckon her towards them. 
 
 Thoroughly heartsick and weary of tho scenes which 
 she had just passed through, she resolved to plunge into 
 the cold, dark water. 
 
 She was led to do so by some indefinable instinct, which 
 she could not resist. 
 
 She was no longer mistress of her own actions. 
 
 Wo have stated how she sprang with maniac-like agility 
 on to one of the barges that were moored close at hand, 
 and how, on reaching the prow of the clumsy vessel, 
 she had uttered a wild, shrieking laugh, and plunged into 
 the Thames. 
 
 As she sped over the boat, she felt that she trod upon 
 some soft substance, but what it was she did not trouble 
 herself to ascertain. 
 
 Nor did she heed the rough ejaculations which fell 
 upon her ears. 
 
 The soft substance upon which she had trod was the 
 body of a man. 
 
 It was from his lips that the ejaculations had come. 
 
 His duty was to remain on board the barge all night as 
 watchman, in order to guard its cargo from the depreda- 
 tions of the Thames pirates. 
 
 He was asleep when Edgworth Bess scrambled aboard 
 tho barge, and was awakened by her foot pressing upon 
 him. 
 
 He started up in rather a confused manner, and caught 
 sight of some indistinct object flitting across the barge in 
 the direction of the prow. 
 
 Hastily rising to his feet, he scrambled after it, and 
 then perceived the indistinct figure was a woman. 
 
 Her horrible, shrieking, maniacal laugh struck upon his 
 ears ; and then, in a moment, he comprehended all. 
 
 It was not the first time he had seen girls commit 
 suicide by plunging into the river. 
 
 As soon as he was conscious of her intent, he blundered 
 forward with still greater speed, and stretched out his 
 hand to take hold of her clothing. 
 
 But he was one second too late. 
 
 Ere he could grasp it the leap had been taken. 
 
 She was gone. 
 
 She disappeared from his view in an instant, for the 
 surface of the river was covered with a kind of mist, while 
 from the sky a quantity of sleet — half hail, half snow — 
 poured down, rendering it an impossibility to see anything 
 at a distance. 
 
 The loud splash which followed tho frenzied leap, 
 however, echoed far and wide. 
 
 It was this splash and the icy coldness of the water that 
 restored Edgworth Bess to a proper frame of mind. 
 
 A wild, thrilling scream came from her lips when she 
 found herself struggling with the waves, and the instinct 
 of self-preservation rose paramount in her breast. 
 
 Her intellects were still in confusion. 
 
 She was like one in a dream, and was wholly at a loss 
 to account for her presence in the river. 
 
 The cold water numbed her, and deprived her of the 
 power of motion. 
 
 Her struggles ceased. 
 
 She wished to swim to the shore, but could not. 
 
 The water hissed and gurgled in her ears. 
 
 It foamed and surged over her face as her body was 
 tossed about at the caprice of tho waves. 
 
 She opened her lips to shriek again, but the water 
 rushed in and choked her. 
 
 In vain she tried to prevent it. 
 
 Her senses forsook her. 
 
 By degrees she became insensible to everything. 
 
 Her last consciousness was that something was humming 
 and buzzing in her ears.
 
 BLUESKJS; A E03IAN0I!. 
 
 551 
 
 A Her thai, all waa over. 
 
 What happened afterwards was a blank. 
 
 We return now to the man in tho barge, who had wit- 
 nessed the poor girl's frantic leap. 
 
 This event had thoroughly awakened him, and he 
 proved it by his actions. 
 
 Hastening to the after-part of the boat, he shouted out to 
 someone who appeared to be below. 
 
 He was answered gruffly, and the next moment a man 
 as rough looking as himself appeared. 
 
 " There's a gal overboard !" he said. " Como on ! Let's 
 help the poor thicg ! I daresay she has repented by this 
 time, and wishes herself on the land again. There's a 
 wherry alongside, and wo can push off in a jiffy." 
 
 Tho man thus addressed muttered something in a 
 grumbling, indistinct tone of voice, but did not disobey. 
 
 He stooped down, however, and produced a long pole, 
 tipped with iron, which is called a boat-hook, and is an 
 indispensable instrument in navigating the river. 
 
 In the meantime, his companion had lowered himself 
 into the wherry, which, as he had stated, lay along- 
 side. 
 
 Ho unshipped the oars in an instant, and cast off tho 
 moment he was joined by his companion. 
 
 He had noted the spot whero the girl had plunged in, 
 and immediately rowed towards it. 
 
 But nothing of her could be seen. 
 
 The falling snow and sleet were baffling to a degree, 
 and they strained their eyes in vain to catch a glimpse of 
 her. 
 
 But the surface of the water was uniformly dark, and 
 they were about to return without having achieved their 
 object, when the one with tho oars perceived some floating 
 object near them. 
 
 It was approaching, and he called out to his companion 
 to keep a sharp look-out. 
 
 The man stood up in the boat with his pole in readi- 
 ness. 
 
 His eyes were fixed on tho floating something which one 
 more wave would bring within his reach. 
 
 It was a human face, .and the instant he made this dis- 
 covery he stuck his boat-hook into the mass of apparel that 
 was floating on the surface of the Avatcr. 
 
 The instrument took firm hold, and by slow degrees he 
 dragged the inanimate body towards the boat. 
 
 The man with the oars looked round, and, seeing that it 
 was a girl, concluded in a moment that it was tl.o one ho 
 had seen leap into the river. 
 
 The man with the hook now found his task grow diffi- 
 cult, for the body showed a strong inclination to uink. 
 
 Without tho skill which long practice had given him, 
 ho would never havo succeeded in luting hor into the 
 boat. 
 
 But he accomplished this feat, and no sooner had he 
 done so than his companion rowed with all speed towards 
 the shore. 
 
 The other occupied himself in chafing the poor girl's 
 hands, and attempting to instil some life into her. 
 
 But he had no encouragement to persevere with his 
 attentious. 
 
 Edgworth Bess presented the appearance of a dead 
 body. 
 
 Not a particle of life was visible, and her body was as 
 cold as the water from which it had just been taken. 
 
 Nevertheless, the man continued his efforts, for, from 
 the nature of his profession, he naturally understood how 
 to treat drowning persons. 
 
 The keel of the little wherry grated against the shore 
 without his having been able to extract one symptom of 
 returning life, and he shook his head gloomily in reply to 
 his companion's remark, as he lifted the poor girl out oi 
 tho boat. 
 
 "I am afraid there is no life in her," he sai.1. "How- 
 ever, whether there is or not, we will carry her tc 'he 
 Prince of Wales inn, on the bank yonder." 
 
 " All right, mate I" Avas the reply. " Just Avait a 
 moment while I moor the boat, and I'll be with you." 
 
 " Come on, then !" 
 
 The man Avas not a moment mooring the boat, and then 
 he hurried off after his companion, who carried Edgworth 
 Bess in his arms as though she had been no heavier than 
 a feather. 
 
 The Prince of Wales was tho sign of an inn situated 
 very close to the river's edge, which, for the most part, was 
 
 the 
 
 frequented by boatmen and others employed on 
 Avater. 
 
 The light that came from the windoAV in tho tap-room 
 was dimly visible in the distance, and the two men 
 directed their step3 in a straight lino tOAvards it. 
 
 In a few moments they arrived. 
 
 The hour was past midnight, but the front door of tho 
 public-house was Avide open, and so it would remain until 
 just before daybreak. 
 
 Kudi sounds of boisterous merriment struck upon the 
 ears . i! the tAVO men as they entered the inn, but E JgAVorth 
 Bess heard them not. 
 
 She Avas dead to every outward sensation. 
 
 The landlady of the house immediately came forward. 
 
 Sho Avas kuoAvn to the tAvo men, and they at once 
 addressed her. 
 
 But when she saw Avhat they carried, a cloud of dis- 
 pleasure came over her face. 
 
 To her there was something exceedingly unpleasant in 
 the idea of having a dead body brought into her house. 
 
 She Avas well aware that she could not refuse to allow it 
 to remain, but this knowledge only increased her ill- 
 temper. 
 
 She foresaAV tho inquest, and the probably disagreeablo 
 notoriety which her house Avould obtain. 
 
 It was her Avish to keep it as quiet as possible, for many 
 of her customers came there merely because the situation 
 was quiet, and because there was little likelihood of their 
 being disturbed. 
 
 There was no help for it ; but in a surly tone of voice 
 she chid the men for having brought the body there. 
 
 " Can't help it, mum !" said the oue avIio had manifested 
 such a desire to rescue the poor girl from the river. 
 " Can't help it, mum ! Your house is the nearest, and, 
 bless the poor thing's heart, I don't believe she's dead at 
 all, for she wasn't in the water long enough to drown ! 
 Show my mate a place Avhere he can put her doAvu, and 
 I'll run for a surgeon !" 
 
 The kind-hearted boatman, knowing that the landlady 
 could not refuse, did not wait to see his instructions 
 carried f*it, but hastened off for a surgeon. 
 
 ?>mg well acquainted Avith the neighbourhood, he 
 ref.tnly found one. 
 
 When ho re-entered the inn, accompanied by the 
 medical man, he found that the body had been laid upon 
 a table, not far from the fire. 
 
 A crowd of eager, curious people were in the room, 
 clustering round the table. 
 
 Tho surgeon frowned as he saAv this, and peremptorily 
 commanded everyone to quit tho apartment, Avith the 
 exception of the landlady. 
 
 He was reluctantly obeyed. 
 
 One by one the idlers left, and then the doctor, securing 
 the door, Avent up to the table. 
 
 The ragged and miserable habiliments of Edgworth 
 Bess were draggled with water, which, too, had drained 
 off them until the table was covered with moisture, which, 
 drop by drop, trickled on to the floor. 
 
 Her eyes were closed, and her features, which were 
 before pinched and pallid, wore noAv so close a resemblance 
 to death, that even the surgeon, skilful as he Avas In such 
 matters, hesitated to say whether she was indeed alive. 
 
 Various restoratives were administered, but Avithcut 
 avail. 
 
 Her body was icy cold, and every limb rigid. 
 
 Under these circumstances, still greater efforts were 
 made for her reviAdfication. 
 
 The surgeon was unremitting in his attentions. 
 
 He Avas a hard, matter-of-fact man, and Avhat little 
 sympathies he might have originally possessed had been 
 blunted by his profession. 
 
 But they were not Avholly destroyed, for Avhen he gazed 
 upon the pallid countenance of Edgworth Bess, a feeling 
 of interest was aAvakened in his bosom for which he Avas 
 totally at a loss to account. 
 
 It Avas Avell that the poor heiress should have enlisted 
 the kindly sympathies of one so powerful as the doctor. 
 
 At length his patient efforts to restore her to life Avere 
 i i-. warded. 
 
 Gradually her pulse fluttered and her heart resumed its 
 pr< >pcr functions. 
 
 Sho was then instantly carried to a bed, and it was here 
 that EdgAVorth Bess first recovered her consciousness oi 
 Avhat Avns taking place around her.
 
 BLUESKIN: A BOMANCB. 
 
 An opiate was then administered, and the poor girl fell 
 off intj a deep and refreshing sleep. 
 
 The landlady was scarcely less pleased to have Edg- 
 worth Bess an inmate of her house alive than she had 
 previously been to have her dead body. 
 
 The doctor, however, acted as a land of check upon her 
 lincharitableness. 
 
 It was not long after he had taken his departure, and 
 just as the public-house was going to be closed, that a 
 dark figure crept towards the inn, and, after pausing a no- 
 ment at the front door, entered. 
 
 He was a short, thick-set, muscular-looking man, and 
 held his head on one side in a very peculiar manner. 
 
 He strode along the passage towards the bar of the inn 
 with the firm, decided step of one who feels that he has a 
 right to command, and that ho possesses the power of 
 bending others to his will. 
 
 His dress was plain and ordinary in appearance, but 
 composed of the richest of materials, while jewels sparkled 
 in different parts of it. 
 
 A dozen strides took him to the little bar window. 
 
 The landlady was not within, and the man knocked 
 sharply upon the counter with a short, heavy stick that he 
 took from his coat pocket. 
 
 It was a formidable-looking bludgeon, and a heavy 
 blow could have been delivered with it, making it a 
 weapon of terrible efficacy in a combat at close quarters. 
 
 The glasses jingled as the sharp knocks were delivered 
 upon the counter, and the next moment the landlady ap- 
 peared. 
 
 Her countenance was convulsed with anger, and the 
 moment she caught sight of her customer, she poured 
 forth a torrent of abuse. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCXLIV. 
 
 JONATHAN' ■ttILD BIAKES AN ARRANGEMENT WITH THE 
 LANDLADY OF THE PHINCE OF WALES INN. 
 
 The short, thick-set man who stood at the bar allowed 
 her to go on without making the least attempt to stem the 
 current of her eloquence ; but when, at length, the land- 
 lady ceased, from pure inability to say any more, he slowly 
 raised his hat, and made an ironical kind of bow. 
 
 We have said that day was breaking. 
 
 Already the first flush of dawn had crept over all 
 things. 
 
 The bar shutters were closed, but through the diamond- 
 shaped holes that were cut in them there streamed two 
 grey, sickly beams of light. 
 
 One of these ghastly beams fell full upon the counte- 
 nance of the man as he raised his hat and bowed. 
 
 It revealed the hideous features with great distinctness. 
 
 The landlady uttered a scream of dismay, and the whole 
 expression of her countenance changed. 
 
 She seemed ready to sink upon the floor with fright. 
 
 Then the man knew that he had been recognised, and, 
 with his countenance contorted by a grin of satisfaction, 
 he replaced his hat upon his head. 
 
 From what has been just said, the reader will doubtless 
 recognise this early customer at the Prince of Wales 
 inn. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The landlady knew him. 
 
 She had seen him many a time, and now her guilty con- 
 science made her tremble as it accused her of numberless 
 actions, any one of which coming under the dreaded thief- 
 taker's notice would suffice for her destruction. 
 
 We have lost sight of Jonathan Wild for some time 
 lately. 
 
 The last time when we presented him to the reader was_ 
 when he dashed down the street in pursuit of Jack Shep- 
 pard and Blueskin, who, just at that moment, were safely 
 in the tailor's shop. 
 
 He was now on a false scent, and though he spent 
 several hours in searching closely, he was unable to sen 
 anything of his prisoners. 
 
 At last, weary and dispirited, he had returned to his own 
 home, where he was compelled to refresh himself with a 
 little rest and sleep. 
 
 Upon awaking, he was informed of the desperate con- 
 dition of his son, who had been much injured by his fall 
 down the stairs. 
 
 This increased the ill-humour under which he was suff er- 
 lagi 
 
 He was deprived of a coadjutor who had proved himself 
 of great sagacity and ability, at the very moment when he 
 had most need of his services. 
 
 He made his way to his son's chamber, and found him 
 in bed, groaning dismally. 
 
 There was the bullet-wound he had received from Jack 
 Sheppard's pistol, and the bruises and shakes he had re- 
 ceived when his father and tho man fell down upon him 
 wid hurled him backwards. 
 
 So severe were the hurts he had thus sustained that he 
 had been carried homo in an insensible state, and now that 
 he was laid in bed he found himself wholly deprived of 
 the power to rise. 
 
 It was with difficulty that he moved any of his limbs. 
 
 As soon as he saw his father, a volley of curses came 
 from his lips. 
 
 "D — nit!" he cried, "what did you want to fall upon 
 me like that for ?" 
 
 He thus threw the whole of the blame upon the thief- 
 taker. 
 
 Jonathan himself, who had not escaped without several 
 severe contusions and wounds, was in no very amiable 
 mood, and a tempest of passion was at once raised between 
 them. 
 
 In the end, Jonathan left the chamber more furious than 
 when he had entered it. 
 
 The continual defeats which he had met with had pro- 
 duced a great effect upon his mind. 
 
 He found himself unable to attend to his ordinary duties, 
 though numerous important affairs were pressing for im- 
 mediate attention. 
 
 But Wild felt that he could do nothing until he had 
 achieved his so frequently baffled purpose. 
 
 He had noticed that Blueskin and Jack were separated 
 from Edgworth Bess, and he was in hopes that this would 
 somehow turn out to his advantage. 
 
 Where she could be he could not imagine, but this he 
 trusted his emissaries would ere long discover. 
 
 But even for this he could not wait in patience, but 
 sallied forth himself. 
 
 He had nothing but his trouble for his pains. 
 
 Each day he returned home without having met with 
 the least success. 
 
 Nor had his men been any more fortunate. 
 
 The precautions taken by Jack and Blueskin effectually 
 baffled them. 
 
 Then as for Edgworth Bess, the reader will please to 
 understand that during this period she was an inmate of 
 Mother Robotham's house, and extended helplessly on a 
 sick bed. 
 
 It is not to be wondered at, therefore, if he failed to find 
 her. 
 
 As day after day passed, Jonathan's uneasiness and 
 anger rapidly increased, and at length, to such an extent 
 did his rage carry him that not one of his men dared ap- 
 proach him. 
 
 His son George did not mend very rapidly, and it re- 
 quired nearly the whole of Mr. Snoxall's time to wait upon 
 him. 
 
 There was some satisfaction in knowing that he was 
 gradually getting better, and this was the only satisfac- 
 tion Jonathan Wild was able to obtain. 
 
 A paltry one for him. 
 
 As time passed on without receiving any tidings, a dread 
 took possession of his mind, which he in vain tried to 
 banish. 
 
 It was, that the three fugitives had found some means of 
 leaving the kingdom. 
 
 He knew this was almost an impossibility without the 
 fact coming to his knowledge, for he had spies every- 
 where. 
 
 No tidings of this description had reached his ear, and 
 yet he could not drive away the torturing thought that 
 they had found some means of slipping off unper- 
 ceived. 
 
 This drove him almost frantic, but nevertheless he did 
 not remit any of his exertions, and urged his spies on by 
 every means he could think of. 
 
 In* this manner time passed on, until at length the time 
 came when' t Edgworth Bess quitted the shroud^maker's with 
 so much precipitation. 
 
 While hurrying through the streets in a manner so well 
 calculated to attract the attention of the other passengers, 
 she was seen by one of Wild's gang. 
 
 /
 
 IlLtTEPKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 553 '; 
 
 JACTC 8HKTTABD 18 RELEASED FROM THE BOX TO THE VESTIBULE OF NEWGATE. 
 
 ltc *r-".?;rnised her, from the description which had been 
 furnished him, and pursued her. 
 
 But, aU uncenscious that anyone was on her track, the 
 poor girl flew onwards, and by sheer speed outdistanced 
 tho man, who, to his deep chagrin, lost sight of her. 
 
 Once off his view, he know he had but small chance of 
 seeing her again while she continued to maintain her pre- 
 sent rata of speed, and therefore he did the wisest thing in 
 the world, and that was, to set off te Newgate Street, and 
 communicate what intelligence he possessed to the thief- 
 taker, who, meagre and scanty as it was, would doubtless 
 arcept of it gladly, and set all his resources at work. 
 
 Such a clue as the girl having been seen in one particu- 
 lar neighbourhood would be one that he would have very 
 little difficulty in following up, and ere long he would 
 doubtless make some further discoveries. 
 "' The man hastened along with all tho speed he was able 
 to make, but ere he had performed ene-fourth of the dis- 
 tance which intervened between Westminster and Ngw- 
 gate Street, he was startled by ft sudden command to stop, 
 No. 70. 
 
 which was uttered by a voice familiar in the extreme t# 
 him. 
 
 He obeyed instantly and instinctively. 
 
 The voice which had pronounced the word "Halt !" was 
 the voice of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Kestless and uneasy, he was once again roaming the- 
 streets, in the hope of picking up some information. 
 
 It was while thus engaged, and allowing nothing that 
 took place arowid him to escape his notice, that he per- 
 ceived this member of his band hurrying towards Newgate 
 Street at a speed which seemed to indicate that he was the 
 bearer of unusually important tidings. 
 
 It was in consequence of this that he called out to the 
 man to stop. 
 
 At the same time he made his way towards him. 
 
 " Where are you going ?" he asked, with undisguised 
 anxiety and impatience. " Tell me at once what has hap- 
 pened r 
 
 Tho man opened and shut his mouth, and gasped con- 
 vulsively, but he was breathless, and no axtkmlate sound 
 
 No. 70.
 
 554 
 
 BLUESK.1N : A ROMANCE. 
 
 came from his lips, though he struggled hard to 
 speak. 
 
 Jonathan, however, saw nothing of all this, and, in a 
 more peremptory manner than before, called upon him to 
 state what had happened. 
 
 At length the man managed to gasp out his informa- 
 tion. 
 
 But when the thief-taker heard that he had lost sight of 
 her after having once commenced the pursuit, he burst 
 out into a furious rage. 
 
 He had ascertained, however, whereabouts sue had 
 vanished from his view, and leaving the discomfited 
 janizary to recover his wind in the best manner he was 
 able, he set off towards the place. 
 
 Upon arriving here, he commenced his inquiries, and 
 almost the first thing he learned was that a girl had com- 
 mitted suicide a short time before by jumping into the 
 river. 
 
 Though this was an act which he scarcely thought Edg- 
 worth Bess would perform, yet when ho thought of tho 
 strange manner in which his man had described seeing 
 her fly through the streets, he could not help thinking 
 there was a disagreeable probability of it. 
 
 At any rate, he determined to learn whether the body 
 of the girl had been recovered, and if so, to have a look 
 at her in order to confirm or disperse his doubts. 
 
 With this intention he made his way towards the river- 
 bank, but taldng care to prosecute his inquiries on his 
 way. 
 
 He elicited scarcely anything of importance, however. 
 
 Upon reaching the water, he looked about him fct any 
 signs of commotion. 
 
 Ere long he perceived a group of people at a short dis- 
 tance. 
 
 He made his way towards them without delay, and im- 
 perceptibly mingled in the throng. 
 
 Here he stood listening. 
 
 As he had hoped and anticipated, the subject of the con- 
 versation was the suicide of the young girl. 
 
 One man was relating to the rest tho particulars of what 
 had occurred. 
 
 It was the watchman who had been aroused by Edg- 
 worth Bess springing on to the boat. 
 
 Having deposited her in safety in tho inn, ho had 
 refreshed himself with a stimulant, and returned to the 
 boat, which having been left in his charge, he was respon- 
 sible for the safety of all that it contained, so he did not 
 dare leave it for any length of time. 
 
 Before Jonathan had stood among the group a moment, 
 he heard that the body of the youn^r girl had been taken 
 to the Prince of Wales inn. 
 
 Upon receipt of this information, the thief-taker turned 
 away. 
 
 Nothing more would be said that would interest him. 
 
 As he strode slowly away, he repeated over and over 
 a great many times the name of the public-house. 
 
 At length he recollected it, and ere long his extraordinary 
 memory furnished him with numerous particulars about 
 the tenants of it. 
 
 The information he possessed would, he felt certain, 
 enable him to exercise a certain power over them, should 
 circumstances so fall out as to make it necessary for him to 
 do so ; and now with a more rapid step he directed his 
 way to tho public-house. 
 
 We have described how he entered it. 
 
 We have alluded, too, to the consternation exhibited by 
 the landlady. . 
 
 And now, having accounted for the presence of Jonathan 
 Wild, which othenviso would have appeared not a little 
 mysterious and remarkable, we will resume. 
 
 Tho alarm of the landlady, when she saw who it was 
 stood at the bar, was great and unfeigned, and the thief- 
 laker, as he perceived the impression and alteration which 
 his recognition had produced, grinned hideously, and made 
 another of his ironical bows. 
 
 "Don't faint, Mrs. Pickman, I beg!" he said. "Now 
 pray don't ! I am on the wrong side of the bar — I could 
 not save you if you were to fall, indeed I couldn't!" 
 
 Mrs. Piclnuan, for such appeared to be the name of the 
 landlady of tho Prince of Wales, clutched the knob of a 
 drawer to save herself from falling. 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Wild!" she said, "you have give me a turn, and 
 no mistake ! Oh, lawk, sir, I didn't know it was you ! 
 Excuse my being in such a flusteration ; I en n not help it I" 
 
 " All right, Mrs. Pickman," he replied, with a frightful 
 leer; "you have no occasion to be afraid!" 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Wild ! Do pray walk in ! This way, 
 if you please, my dear sir ! I have not much to offer you 
 in the 6hape of accommodation, for, as you see, it's rather 
 a orkard time in the day !" 
 
 "Stop your gab!" said Wild, rudely cutting short her 
 apologies. " Stop your gab ! Pve got something I want 
 to talk about !" 
 
 " I know, Mr. Wild, but I am in such a flusteration now 
 that I don't know what I am about !" 
 
 " Keep still, and listen to me ! Shut the door!" 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan Wild seated himself astride a 
 chair, and leaning his arms on the back, rested his chin 
 upon them. 
 
 In this attitude he prepared to commence his speech. 
 
 Mrs. Pickman had in the meantime closed the door. 
 
 But it was perfectly easy for anyone to see that she was 
 in a terrible state of mental agitation, which the assurance 
 to which Jonathan had given utterance very little abated. 
 
 Still, she had some of her wits about her, and, turning 
 round immediately after having closed the door, she 
 said: 
 
 " Before you begins to talk, Mr. Wild, be good enough 
 to tell me what you would like to have to drink !" 
 
 "Bah! Nothing! Hold your jaw, I tell you! Why 
 don't you listen to what I want to say ?" 
 
 " I am a-listening, Mr. Wild, if you please ! What do 
 you want?" 
 
 " For you to be silent — I will do the talking !" 
 
 "Very good, sir; I'll bo as dumb as a door-mat!" 
 
 "I suppose, then, Mrs. Pickman," said Jonathan Wild, 
 suddenly changing the tone of his voice — "I suppose that 
 you are well aware that I could hang you at Tyburn any 
 day I liked ?" 
 
 CHAPTER CCOXLV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD RECOGNISES EDGWORTH BESS, AND COSIES 
 TO A PERFECT UNDERSTANDING WITH MRS. TICKJIAN. 
 
 " The Lord be good to us !" said Mrs. Pickman, staggering 
 back until she came to a, chair, into which she sank with 
 such force as to make all the glasses on the shelves in the 
 bar jingle in such a manner that ono would have thought 
 they must have fallen off — "the Lord be good to us!" 
 
 "Amen!" said Jonathan Wild, with a hypocritical 
 whine ; " I hope he will." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Wild, you have given me two such turns !" 
 
 " Shut up ! I s'pose you know I can scrag you any day 
 I like ?" 
 
 "Oh yes, Mr. Wild!" 
 
 " You admit my power, then ?" 
 
 "You are a wonderful man, Mr. Wild," replied the 
 landlady, " and I could not think of setting myself up in 
 opposition to you." 
 
 " Very good," said the thief-taker — " very good ! I have 
 then really found a sensible woman. H you will just do 
 what I require, you need not feel alarmed about my getting 
 you into trouble." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Mr. Wild, you are the nicest man ! Now, 
 what can I get you to drink ?" 
 
 " Since you are so kind," replied the thief-taker, " I don't 
 mind if I do have something." 
 
 " Only say what you'll have, my dear sir, and you shall 
 have it—that is, if 1 have got it in tho house." 
 
 " Oh, thank you !" said Jonathan, with another hidcoua 
 leer. " Have you got any brandy ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, Mr. Wild, and some of the very best 
 quality." 
 
 " Then bring me half a pint in a basin, and stir it up 
 with a red-hot poker." 
 
 The landlady looked rather surprised at this order. 
 
 Nevertheless, she got up and drew the brandy, and then 
 went out of the room for a basin and a red-hot poker. 
 
 During her absence, Jonathan rested his head on his 
 arms, and gave himself up to deep and earnest thought- 
 He was arranging in his mind what he should do. 
 
 He was disturbed in his ruminations by the entrance of 
 Mrs. Pickman, who had literally obeyed his orders, and 
 carried in one hand an empty basin, and in the othera red- 
 hot poker which she had just taken from the fire. 
 
 Very gravely, then, Wild poured the brandy out of the 
 little pewter measure into the basin, and stirred it vigor- 
 ously with the red-hot poker.
 
 BLCE3KIN} A ROMANCE. 
 
 553 
 
 He then offered the truly fiery beverage to Mrs. Pickman, 
 who, however, declined to partake of any of it. 
 
 Wild then quaffed it himself, and having returned the 
 poker to the landlady, desired her once more to seat herself 
 and listen to what he had to say. 
 
 " You think it will answer your purpose best, then, to 
 keep in with me ?" he said. 
 
 Mrs. Pickman nodded. 
 
 "Sodr I," replied Jonathan; "and, as I said a little 
 while ago, if you will give me the information I require, 
 you will have nothing to fear from me." 
 
 " What is it you want to know ?" 
 
 " A girl has been brought here " 
 
 " Yes, there has," interrupted Mrs. Pickman. " I think 
 it's a shame my house should be a home for such hussies !" 
 
 " Home ?" said Jonathan. " She is not dead, then ?" 
 
 "Dead ? Oh dear no, nothing of the sort !" 
 
 " Good !" said the thief-taker, gleefully rubbing his 
 hands together. " Describe her to me — tell mo what sbo 
 looked like!" 
 
 Mrs. Pickman did so. 
 
 From the words she uttered, Jonathan became imme- 
 diately convinced that he was on the right scent, and that 
 the young girl brought in was really Edgworth Bess, 
 though what could have occurred to prompt her to commit 
 suicide he was quite at a loss to think. 
 
 He had other matters to attend to, however, and he re- 
 served a consideration upon this point until another oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Eagerly Jonathan put the next question. 
 
 " Where is she now ?" he said. " What has become of 
 her ?" 
 
 Mrs. Pickman, who, with a woman's penetration, saw in 
 a moment that Jonathan was interested in this girl's fate, 
 and that his presence there on that occasion was solely 
 owing to her, replied at once : 
 
 " The doctor came to see her. Sho has recovered, and 
 now sho is upstairs in bed." 
 
 " Indeed ! Can it really be so ?" 
 
 Wild chuckled, and his eyes grew bright as he spoke. 
 
 After so many defeats and his late want of success, he 
 could scarcely bring himself to believe in the reality of 
 6uch good fortune. 
 
 " Oh yes, she's upstairs safo enough, never fear !" 
 
 " You must let me see her." 
 
 " You, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 44 Yes, me !" 
 
 41 But she is asleep !* 
 
 " So much the better ; I would not have her see mo for 
 worlds. If sho is asleep, take me up to her. One glance 
 will convince me whether it is the girl of whom I am in 
 search." 
 
 " I can't refuse you anything, Mr. Wild. Please to 
 follow me." 
 
 Jonathan needed no second bidding. 
 
 On tiptoe ho followed Mrs. Pickman up the stairs. 
 
 At length the landlady paused before the door of a bed- 
 room. 
 
 " Wait a moment," she said, in a whisper. " Wait here, 
 and I will go in and see whether she really sleeps." 
 
 " Do so— do so !" said Wild, as he stood aside and allowed 
 her to pass him. 
 
 On tiptoe the landlady entered the bedchamber. 
 
 Just sufficient of the dim light of early day struggled in 
 through the window to enable her to distinguish the 
 various familiar objects in the room. 
 
 It was a rude bed upon which poor Edgworth Bess had 
 been laid, and was by no means the best in the house. 
 
 There were no curtains to shield it from draught. 
 
 The four bare posts looked cheerless and poverty- 
 stricken. 
 
 Cautiously Mrs. Pickman approached the bed. f 
 
 The first glance that she cast upon it showed her that 
 Edgworth Bess was still sleeping. 
 
 Turning round, she was about to retrace her steps to the 
 door, when she saw that Jonathan had projected his 
 hideous head into the apartment, and was looking earnestly 
 towards her. 
 
 She beckoned for him to approach, and at the same time 
 placed her finger on her lips to enjoin silence. 
 
 Jonathan's boots creaked ominously as ho crept across 
 the uncarpeted floor, but the noise made was not enough to 
 have aroused the lightest sleeper. 
 
 In one more moment Jonathan gained the bedside. 
 
 The very first glance confirmed those hopes which he 
 had been almost afraid to entertain. 
 
 It was indeed the poor heiress whom he so much desired 
 to have in his own keeping who lay slumbering before hini 
 on the wretched bed. 
 
 He could not conceal his exultation and satisfaction from 
 the piercing gaze of the landlady, who resolved, if possible, 
 to turn it to her own advantage. 
 
 The thief-taker chuckled, and, clasping his hands behind 
 his back, gazed long and earnestly upon the pinched and 
 pallid features. 
 
 He did not give utterance to a single word, but his 
 thoughts were nevertheless busy. 
 
 He could see directly that tho state of Edgworth Boss 
 was by far too critical to mako it possiblo to remove hor 
 without incurring very great danger of her life. 
 
 This it was to his interest to preserve. 
 
 To leave hor, however, where she was, would be attended 
 with a certain amount of danger. 
 
 He had lost her so many times when ho thought he had 
 her safe, that he could not feel secure now without she was 
 immediately under his eye. 
 
 And this seemed impossible. 
 
 His only hope lay in the landlady, and from the fact of 
 her being so deeply in his power as she was, he thought 
 he should be able to bind her over to his interest. 
 
 These cogitations occupied his mind for some moments 
 while he stood gazing upon the girl's countenance, which, 
 as the light grew stronger, he could seo with greater dis- 
 tinctness. 
 
 He was warned of the impropriety of lingering longer 
 by a slight movement. 
 
 He drew aside. 
 
 Mrs. Pickman trod softly in his steps. 
 
 The stairs were descended and the bar reached without 
 the exchangement of a single word. 
 
 Upon arriving here, they mechanically assumed their old 
 positions. 
 
 Then Wild spoke. 
 
 " I want that girl upstairs taken particular care of," he 
 said. 
 
 44 I know that," rejoined Mrs. Pickman, with a satisfied 
 nod. 
 
 Wild frowned. 
 
 He did not want this woman to know too much. 
 
 "I hope you'll bear in mind that I have the power to 
 bring you to Tyburn if I think proper. I wish to keep 
 that idea prominently before your mind in order that it 
 may have a proper influence upon any arrangements we 
 may come to with each other." 
 
 Mrs. Pickman shuddered and turned rather pale at this 
 allusion to Tyburn. 
 
 It was by no means pleasant to her, and she saw that in 
 all probability the only reward she would have for seeing 
 Wild would be the negative one of being allowed to remain 
 undisturbed in her malpractices. 
 
 The large reward in the shape of money which she 
 hoped to be able to extract from the thief-taker dwindled 
 away. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was by far too sharp for the landlady. 
 
 " I don't suppose you like it," he continued ; " but it is, 
 nevertheless, necessary for you to bear it in mind. I say, 
 then, that I wanf.that girl taken care of. I would not trouble 
 you if I could help it, but I can see she is not in a fit state 
 to be removed. Do you understand that, Mrs. Pick- 
 man ?" 
 
 " I quite understand you, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "Very well, then. Mind this — I shall hold you respon- 
 sible for the safe keeping of that girl !" 
 
 The words were pronounced with peculiar and inde- 
 scribable emphasis. 
 
 " Me, Mr. Wild ?" said Mrs. Pickman. 
 
 " Yes, you !" continued Jonathan ; " and if she escapes, 
 in any way whatever, woe be to you, for the very next 
 Monday after that event takes place you will swing at 
 Tyburn ! I always keep my word in such matters, and 
 should think no more of having you scragged, than I 
 should of smoking a pipe !" 
 
 Mrs. Pickman shuddered in spite of the effort she made 
 to appear unmoved. 
 
 Sho fully believed what Wild said, and had no doubt 
 that, in this instance at least, he would keep his word. 
 
 " That's it, Mrs. Pickman. When I come to fetch her, 
 if I find she is not here, your life will most assuredly pny
 
 Sifi 
 
 .C7ESKIN : A P.OMANCE. 
 
 the forfeit, ?olhopa you. will see the policy of looking 
 sri" 
 
 «jjo — do you— think— that — that there in much fear of 
 her getting away ?" 
 
 " I dou't know— I can only say she is a very slippery 
 customer, and has got away even from me !" 
 
 A cold sweat burst out on the unhappy Woman's face. 
 
 The thief-taker grinned derisively. 
 
 "So I would advise you to keep a sharp look-out after 
 her and don't let anybody go up into the room besides the 
 doctor and yourself. As soon as ever 6he is well enough 
 to be moved, you may depend upon my ridding you of the 
 charge of her." 
 
 Mrs. Tickman sighed. 
 
 Most fervently did she wish that the poor girl was well 
 enough to bo removed at tho present moment, for the 
 prospect she had before her was anything but a pleasant 
 one. 
 
 ITer countenance afforded Jonathan a tolarablc idea as 
 to the state of hoy mind, and now, imagining that he had 
 frightened her sufficiently, he thought that the proper time 
 had arrived to offer her some inducement. 
 
 " You are quite sure you understand me, Mrs. Pickman ?" 
 
 " Oh, quite !" 
 
 " And I hope you see the policy of looking very closo 
 after the girl, and see that no one spirits her away ?" 
 
 " Yes, yes!" 
 
 " Very well, then. I have got something further to say, 
 which may not sound so disagreeable." 
 
 Mrs. Pickman looked at him expectantly, but did not 
 speak. 
 
 " If you take care of tho girl, and I find her when I 
 come here to fetch her," said Jonathan, slowly and empha- 
 tically, " I shall make you a present of a fifty-pound note 
 for your trouble." 
 
 " Ob, Mr. Wild, you are too good !" 
 
 •' Not a bit of it ! When I come for the girl, ir I find 
 her here all right, I shall give you fifty pounds down ; but, 
 upon the other hand, if I come here and find her gone, 1 
 will hang you at Tyburn as surely as I now sit here upou 
 this chair! There now! It will bo no good for you to 
 fly, for I would hunt the world over but what I would 
 find you and carry out my intention !" 
 
 Mrs. Pickman was visibly impressed by these words, 
 but tho prospect of earning a fil'ty-pouud note placed her 
 somewhat at. her ease. 
 
 " You may depend upon my looking sharp after her," 
 she said ; " and if she has managed to escape on former 
 occasions, I think she will find the difficulty of getting the 
 better of me!" 
 
 Jonathan was well enough pleased with this speech, 
 aud the resolute manner in which it was uttered. 
 
 " The fifty pounds," ho . said, " I intend to be clear 
 reward. Look — here are ten guineas !" 
 
 Jonathan counted out the coin from his pocket as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " These are for expenses," he continued, pushing them 
 across the table towards her. " You will see that she has 
 the best medical advice, and every attention paid to her. 
 The sooner she gets well enough to be moved, the sooner 
 you will have a serious responsibility off your hands, the 
 sooner you will receive your fifty pounds, and tho better I 
 shall be pleased." 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Wild!" 
 
 "Above all, be careful and don't let anyone know a 
 word about my having been here — above all, don't whisper 
 it to the girl, for as sure as you do she will be off, aud you 
 will never be able to stop her ! You can give the doctor what 
 reason you like for your desire to have every attention 
 paid to her, and ascertain from him when she will bo ready 
 to be moved. When he tells you, communicate with me, 
 and I will have her off pretty quick !" 
 
 To all this Mrs. Pickman consented, and after a few 
 more words Jonathan Wild left the inn. 
 
 The landlady could not repress the utterance of a sigh 
 of relief when she saw him take his departure. 
 
 A<. however, tho reader will doubtless surmise, Jona- 
 than Wild did not go far. 
 
 Indeed, he took care not to lose sight of the inn. 
 
 Then, standing still, he took a whistle, which he carried 
 suspended fimn his neck by a chain, and blew three shrill 
 blasts upon it. 
 
 The signal was responded to by three men — members of 
 his gang — who quickly made their appearance. 
 
 1 n a low tone, he gave them instructions as to what 
 •' ' y were to do. 
 
 As soon as ho had finished speaking, these three men 
 directed their steps towards the Prince of Wales inn. 
 
 Jonathan 'Wild watched them for some distance, aud 
 then, turning round, ho walked slowly from the spot. 
 
 CHAPTER CCOXLVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN HAS A PERILOUS ADVENTURE WITH THE SEN- 
 TINEL IN ST. JAMES'S PARK. 
 
 When the police officer who fired at Blueskin saw that 
 the bullet had produced no effect, and that our old friend 
 beat a precipitate retreat, he called out to some of his com- 
 panions to follow him. 
 
 To have got through the trap-door by springing up and 
 catching hold of the edge of it was a feat which they were 
 doubtful about being able to perform ; and besides which, it 
 would take b'o long to reach the roof one after the other in 
 this manner that Blueskin would get a hopelessly long 
 start of them. 
 
 With a quickness of thought for which he deserved 
 credit, one of the officers opened the door on tho landing 
 that was nearest to him, aud entered the chamber into 
 which it led. 
 
 Hastening towards the window, ho seized a table. 
 
 Several toilette articles were upon it, but he remorse- 
 lessly swept them on to the floor, and hastened back to tho 
 landing with his prize. 
 
 This table, then, he placed immediately under the trap- 
 door, and was about to mount upon it, when another of 
 the officers came forward with a chair. 
 
 This chair was placed on tho table, and it then became 
 a perfectly easy matter to reach the trap-door. 
 
 All this was done with a rapidity that was really be- 
 wildering. 
 
 Up they sprang, one after another, and got on to the 
 roof. 
 
 Here, of course, the first thing they saw was the young 
 girl. 
 
 A momentary delay took place, for they could not con- 
 trol their astonishment. 
 
 Nevertheless, they did not lose sight of the original 
 object of their pursuit. 
 
 Leaving two of their number with the girl — who, in 
 accordance with tho commands of their superior officer, 
 they took prisoner — the remainder scrambled over the roof 
 as fast as they could, in the hope ere long of finding some- 
 thing that would put them on the track of the fugitive. 
 
 The night, however, was unfavourable in the extreina 
 for them. 
 
 The snow and sleet came down uncomfortably com- 
 pounded, making the tiles so slippery that it was with tlm 
 utmost difficulty they retained their footing. 
 
 The open trap-door over tho empty house attracted their 
 attention. 
 
 They gave one glance around them, and not being abla 
 to see a trace of a human being, they not unnaturally cams 
 to the conclusion that he had made his way in this direc- 
 tion. 
 
 Acting upon this supposition, they one after another 
 jumped down on to tho landing, and this was tho lumber- 
 ing sound which had reached Blueskin's ears after turning 
 away from the window in the front room. 
 
 He would now have to be speedy in all his movements if 
 he wished to escape capture, for, from the manner they had 
 already behaved, he could tell the officers were desperately 
 in earnest. 
 
 Despite, then, the pain which his sprained ankle occa- 
 sioned him, Blueskin hastily descended the remaining 
 flight of stairs. 
 
 In tho passage below he was compelled to pause. 
 
 Wistfully he looked towards the front door, through 
 which he would fain have made his way. 
 
 But that was impossible. 
 
 His sole hope lay in being able to find some mode of 
 getting out at the back. 
 
 Unfortunately, however, he had no idea what kind of 
 house it was, nor the plan upon which it had been built. 
 
 All he could do was to trust to his luck, with the hope 
 that it would befriend him, as it had done on former occa- 
 sions. I 
 
 Almost at random, then, it may be said, ho opened a! 
 door and passed through it [
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 567 
 
 He imagined it led into a room, but whether it did so or 
 not he could Hot tell, for the most utter darkness sur- 
 rounded him. 
 
 His first care, after having passed through this door, was 
 to close it, and then feel for the fastenings. 
 
 There was a lock, but no key, so this was useless. 
 
 At the top and bottom of the door, however, was a bolt, 
 and he immediately shot th«m into their sockets. 
 
 This would be a barrier to the approach of his foes, even 
 if a slight one. 
 
 For a moment he was safe, and so he lighted a match, of 
 which he had plenty in his possession. 
 
 The tiny flame which this gave forth enabled him to see 
 that, as he had suspected, he was standing in a room. 
 
 It was entirely destitute of furniture. 
 
 Straight before him was the window, the shutters of 
 which were closed. He advanced towards it immediately, 
 but before ho could roach it the match expired. 
 
 He did not delay to ignite another, but walked on in the 
 dark with his hands extended before him. 
 
 He soon came in contact with the window, and, guided 
 by his sense of touch alone, found the fastening by which 
 it was secured, and undid it. 
 
 Quickly raising it in the sash, ho felt for the fastenings 
 of the shutters. 
 
 These consisted merely of two bolts, whieh he drew 
 back readily enough, although they were literally rusted in 
 their sockets. 
 
 The shutters were composed of two perpendicular 
 leaves. 
 
 One of these he swung back, and then hastily got 
 through the window. 
 
 As he did so, he could hear his enemies approaching. 
 
 In order to leave as little trace as he could of the route 
 he had taken, he paused to close the window, and the 
 shutters also, though of course, as he stood outside, he 
 could fasten neither. 
 
 This done, he looked about him, and found himself in a 
 rather large garden, which was thickly overgrown with 
 vegetation. 
 
 Across this he made his way at full speed until ho came 
 to some palisades, which effectually prevented his further 
 progress. 
 
 Here he paused, and looked back. 
 
 The trampling of feet struck upon his ears, and showed 
 him that his foes had already tracked him to the garden, 
 and were by no means disposed to give up the pursuit. 
 
 What was on the other side of the palisades it was now 
 his business to discover. 
 
 At first he was baffled, but his joy may bo imagined 
 when he found that he was looking into St. James's 
 Park. 
 
 Could he but gain this vast enclosure, ho felt that he 
 should have a better chance of making his escape than he 
 had yet possessed. 
 
 Tho difficulty was to climb over the palings, which were 
 a great height. 
 
 The crashing of the bushes warned him that the officers 
 woro very close behind, and this nerved hiin to make a 
 desperate effort. 
 
 Jumping up, he caught hold of the branch of a tree, and 
 using this as a means of raising himself, contrived to get to 
 the top of the palings. ) 
 
 Onco having accomplished this, the rest was easy. 
 
 Standing on them, he released his hold of the branch of 
 the tree and jumped down, although the depth was con- 
 siderable. 
 
 Just as he sprang into the air, a shot was fired. 
 
 One of the officers had seen him, but owing to Blueskin 
 having changed his position so quickly, his aim was de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 Our old friend reached the ground unlrurt, but found that 
 his troubles wero by no means over. 
 
 Scarcely had his feet touched the ground, and before the 
 report of the pistol had fairly died away, before he was 
 startled by the dull tramp, tramp of many footsteps. 
 
 They were approaching him, and from the regular tune 
 that was kept he could tell they were soldiers on the 
 march. 
 
 More he did not wait to hear, but sped across the spacious 
 
 piece of ground near the Horse Guards with tho blind haste 
 
 of a hunted hare, intent only upon reaching the enclosure. 
 
 Suddenly ho saw a mail plant himself directly in his 
 
 path. 
 
 It was a sentinel, who, alarmed in his monotonous walk, 
 first by the pistol-shot and then the other uoiso which had 
 succeeded it, placed himself directly in the way of tho fugi- 
 tive, thinking by this means to stop him. 
 
 Blueskia came on like a hurricane. 
 
 He saw the man place himself before him. 
 
 He saw him hold his musket horizontally before him. 
 
 But Blueskin could not stop himself, nor did ho see the 
 mau until it was too lato for him to turn aside. 
 
 A collision was inevitable. 
 
 It was a violent one. 
 
 In vain the sentinel strove to keep his feet. 
 
 He was dashed to the ground in an instant, and Blue- 
 skin tore over his body with scarcely diminished speed. 
 
 The soldiers he had heard approaching were those who 
 were going the round, as it is called, to relievo the sentinels 
 on duty. 
 
 The officer in command of them, perceiving that some- 
 thing of an unusual character was taking place, cried out 
 " Halt !" 
 
 At this moment the police officers made their way into 
 the park, and acquainted him with the particulars. 
 
 The officer then immediately ordered three blasts to be 
 blown upon a bugle. 
 
 This signal ho knew would bo understood by the senti- 
 nels on guard at the different entrances and exits of th* 
 park. 
 
 Its meaning was, that they were to allow no person to 
 pass out, but to take prisoner any person who attempted 
 to do so. 
 
 The clear, shrill notes of the bugle rang out with beau- 
 tiful effect in the silent park, and were clearly heard by all 
 the sentinels, who immediately closed the gates and placed 
 their backs against them. 
 
 Blueskin heard the sounds, and wondered greatly what 
 they signified. 
 
 He was, however, unable to come to any conclusion 
 further than that it was a signal of some sort. 
 
 It was not without difficulty that ho escaped tho 
 clutch of the sentinel ; but he did so, and directly 'after- 
 wards reached the palings skirting the enclosure. 
 
 These were of no great height, and he vaulted over them 
 easily. 
 
 He paused here for breath. 
 
 He could see nothing of his foes, though he strained his 
 eyes to the utmost in endeavouring to do so. 
 
 To have lingered, however, would have been dangerous 
 in the extreme, so he struck straight acx - oss the enclosure 
 until he came to the water. 
 
 This he was obliged to skirt. 
 
 His idea was to throw his pursuers off his track if 
 possible, and make his exit at one of tho gates which 
 happened to bo at the greatest distanco from Spring 
 Gardens. 
 
 He little thought that all the sentinels were watching 
 eagerly for him to make his appearance. 
 
 On he ran, then, somewhat comforted to find that the 
 officers were not at his heels. 
 
 After some deliberation, Blueskin resolved to make his 
 way out by Buckingham Gate. 
 
 Towards this ho went in a straight line. 
 
 As he neared it, he slackened his pace. 
 
 It would be necessary to approach with caution, and in 
 such a manner as would not excite suspicion. 
 
 He walked forward slowly and steadily. 
 
 He saw the soldier leaning against the gate ; but, never 
 dreaming for a moment that he would bar his progress, 
 Blueskin steadily advanced towards the gate. 
 
 The soldier did not move. 
 
 Blueskin thought this strange, but, nevertheless, kept 
 straight on. 
 
 No sooner, however, was he within a yard or so of tho 
 gate, than the soldier suddenly started forward and seized 
 him. 
 
 "You can't pass here!" he said. "You are my pri- 
 soner !" 
 
 Our old friend how comprehended tho full extent of hij 
 danger, and knew if he did not succeed in mastering this 
 sentinel that the remainder of his enemies would be 
 upon him, and then escape would bo quite out &i the 
 question. 
 
 A desperate struggle ensued. 
 
 Finding himself seized, Blueskin strove his utmost to 
 I disengage himself from the soldier's grasp.
 
 558 
 
 BLUESKIN: A XOMANCE. 
 
 This, however, he found to he a by no means easy task, 
 and in the encounter tho sentinel's musket exploded. 
 
 The report was tremendous. 
 
 Blueskin uttered a curse at the occurrence of this 
 unlucky incident, for he knew it would have tho effect of 
 informing the remainder of his enemies just where he 
 was. 
 
 He renewed his efforts to get free ; and, to his unbounded 
 surprise, found the sentinel's hold gradually relax, and 
 when Blueslrin loosed him he fell heavily to tho ground. 
 
 Our friend now understood what had taken place, and 
 the event which at first seemed so inimical to him turned 
 in his favour. 
 
 When the musket exploded, the charge had entered the 
 sentinel's breast. 
 
 He had held on bravely to th« last ; but his strength 
 failed him, and he fell backwards, either insensible or 
 dead. 
 
 Which of the two it was, Blueskin knew not, and 
 scarcely cared. 
 
 Stepping over tho prosirato body of nis foo> he reached 
 tho gate, and opened it wide enough to allow him to 
 squeeze through. 
 
 When he stood on the outside, he felt in safety. 
 
 Looking through the palings, he could both see and h^ar 
 ais pursuers rapidly approaching. 
 
 .store ho did not wait for. 
 
 I* ow was his time to get fairly off. 
 
 At fall speed, then, he turned to the left, and quickly 
 gained the precincts of Westminster. 
 
 Ho so wound and doubled upon his course, that ho felt 
 confident his foes would not be able to track him, and 
 then paused. 
 
 The night was about as uncomfortable now as woll 
 could be, and scarcely anyone was abroad. 
 
 For some time Blueskin had listened, but no sounds or 
 signs of his late pursuers came upon his ears. 
 
 That he was terribly exhausted by all that ho had gono 
 through and the exertions he had made, the reader will 
 readily believe. 
 
 He felt that to go further without rest or refreshment 
 would be impossible, so ho lookod about him for some 
 place where ho could procure both those necessaries. 
 
 But the streets were universally dark. 
 
 All the houses were closed, and Westminster streets at 
 that time wore only lighted by such .dim rays as camo 
 through the windows of the various dwellings. 
 
 Slowly he staggered on, until in tho distance he saw a 
 faint glimmer, and towards that he directed Ids steps. 
 
 Upon reaching the place from which it proceeded, ho 
 found, as he had anticipated, that it was a small public- 
 house. 
 
 Ho entered without hesitation, for both tho house and 
 tho landlord were known to him, and ho was aware that 
 he could trust the latter. 
 
 Ho entered, sat down, and called for refreshment. 
 
 Ho was served, without being made tho object of atten- 
 tion ; and his first keen feeling of fatigue and exhaustion 
 over, Blueskin buried his faco in his hands, and, support- 
 ing his elbows upon the table, endeavoured to coma to a 
 decision as to his future course of action. 
 
 CHAPTER CC0XLV1L 
 
 REBATES THE NOVEL EXPEDIENT WHICH THE DOW STREET 
 RUNNERS ADOPTED TO CONVEY JACK SHEPPARD IN SAFETY 
 TO NEWGATE. 
 
 Having: seen Blueskin so far safoly through the danger? 
 with which ho was threatened, we will return to his less 
 fortunate companion. 
 
 So sudden was tho attack which was made upon him, as 
 we have related, that ho really had no chance. 
 
 Ho was overwhelmed with numbers ; and though ho 
 struggled gallantly to tho last, yet ho gained nothing 
 by it. 
 
 nis wrists were securod by handcuffs, and his captors 
 kept a tight grasp upon him. 
 
 The members of the police force had somo rather extra- 
 ordinary ideas with regard to Jack Sheppard's powers. 
 
 Had ho melted into air, or disappeared 3j any such 
 extraordinary manner, they would scarcely have felt sur- 
 prised. 
 
 On bo many previous occasions ho had proved himself 
 
 such a slippery character that they were quite prepared 
 for anything. 
 
 For tho most part, they could scarcely bring themselves 
 to believe that they had at last got the daring offender in 
 their custody. 
 
 The chief officer, however, had tho good sense to scud 
 off to Bow Street for a reinforcement. 
 
 In the moantimo, various plans were talked over for 
 keeping their prisoner in safety. 
 
 Not one, however, was deemed satisfactory, and the 
 debate continued until tho reinforcement arrived. 
 
 It was deemed fitting to carry him direct to Newgate, 
 and not to risk confining so adept a prison-breaker in one 
 of the prisons, or houses of detention, as they are called. 
 
 They had no warrant to take him to Newgate, and 
 there was some little informality in the proceeding; but 
 this they imagined would be overlooked, especially when 
 the fact of his having been sentenced to death was taken 
 into consideration. 
 
 At any rate, whatever blame they might incur by so 
 doing, they resolved to take him to Newgate ; and hero a 
 fresh difficulty presented itself. 
 
 How was he to bo conveyed thithor ? 
 
 No ordinary mode of transit would suit so extraordinary 
 a character, and some special means must bo devised. 
 
 They had the dread about their hearts that, somehow 
 or other, he would olude them, and therefore they puzzled 
 their brains to find some means which would render this 
 impossible. 
 
 While this was going on, Jack Sheppard was surrounded 
 by about a dozen police officers, ovoryone of whom had 
 hold of ln'm somewhere, and their number was sufficiently 
 great to completely surround him. 
 
 His chances of escape woro now fow indeed, but his 
 captors were very far from foeling either satisfied or 
 safe. 
 
 But the question how ho was to bo taken from Spring 
 Gardens to Newgate remained unsolved. 
 
 One mode that had been proposed and received with a 
 tolerable amount of favour was, that Jack should be securely 
 bound hand and foot in such a manner as not to be ablo 
 to make the slightest movement. 
 
 In this helpless state he was to be placed in a hackney- 
 coach, and as many police officers as tho vehicle would 
 hold wcro to get in after him, and some more on the box 
 along with the driver and on tho roof of the coach. 
 
 But this proposition was rejected as not being suflicientlv 
 secure 
 
 They were afraid that at tho last moment ho would slip 
 through their fingers. 
 
 At length it was agreed upon, as an amendment to tho 
 last proposition, that a strong box should bo found of a 
 size large enough to hold the prisoner. 
 
 In the bound and helpless state already described, ho 
 was to be placed into it, and then tho lid of tho box 
 having been firmly fastened down, ho was to bo carriod into 
 tho vestibule of Newgate, when tho lid could bo removed, 
 and tho prisoner lifted out. 
 
 This proposal was reccivod with universal acclama- 
 tion. 
 
 The only difficulty was tho obtainment of a box. 
 
 This, however, could doubtloss bo got over, and those 
 polico officers who were not occupied in holding Jack dis- 
 persed themselves ovor the house in search of the articlo 
 they required. 
 
 On the veiy floor upon which theso events took place, 
 and in a room close at hand, they found a large chest. 
 
 It was filled with linen, but thoy bundled this out very 
 quickly and remorselessly. 
 
 Then they dragged the box eut on to tho landing. 
 
 Tho other officers hailed its appearance with a shout of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 That they were all very much elated with tho prize thoy 
 had made tho reader- may feel sure, and not even the 
 presence of their superior officer could repress it. 
 
 Jack looked at tho large, lumbering-looking box with 
 dismayful eyes. 
 
 Ho could not seo how ho was to escape from that. 
 
 Tho officers looked upon it, however, with very different 
 feelings. 
 
 Tho lid was thrown back, and a glance at tho interior 
 showed that it was capablo of containing a much larger 
 person than Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Attention was now given to the task of pinioning hiru
 
 blueskin: a romance. 
 
 SM 
 
 with rope, a great quantity of which had just been 
 brought by an officer who had been despatched to fetch 
 ft 
 
 Jack was now bound over and over again, until, to look 
 at him, he presented the appearance of a huge mass of 
 knotted rope. 
 
 Fancying him sufficiently secure so far, they now lifted 
 him as they would have lifted a corpse or any other mass 
 of inanimate matter, and laid him on his back at the bot- 
 tom of the box. 
 
 The lid was thea shut down. 
 
 A key was sticking in the lock of tho box, and this I 
 tvas at once turned by the chief officer, who placed 
 the key in his pocket. 
 
 This was not, however, considered a sufficiently secure 
 fastening for the box. 
 
 It was corded over in every direction with the remainder 
 of tho rope, every inch of which they used for this 
 purpose. 
 
 The hearts of the police officers grew light. 
 
 When they looked upon the strongly-corded box they 
 were at ease. 
 
 Clever as they believed Jack Sheppard to bo, they did 
 not for a moment think, with all his cleverness, he would 
 be able to make his escape. 
 
 A muffled noise came from the interior of the box. 
 
 The prisoner was endeavouring to make himself heard. 
 
 Doubtless, although tho sound came so faintly to thoir 
 ears, he was shouting at the very top of his lungs. 
 
 One of the officers put his ear close to tho lid of the 
 box. 
 
 Jack's voice then became more audible and distinct. 
 
 "Air — air!" he cried. "Give me air, or I shall bo 
 suffocated !" 
 
 The officer looked up. 
 
 " What does ho say ?" asked thn other officers. C 
 
 "Why, he says he wants air," was tho reply. 
 
 " Air — air ?" 
 
 "Yes," said the chief police officer, who luckily hap- 
 pened to have a little noro sense than his companions. 
 •' Wo must bore some holes in tho box to let air in, or else 
 the poor devil will be suffocated before wo can get him to 
 Newgate." 
 
 This intimation was received with dissatisfaction. 
 
 They feared that if the smallest hole was bored in tho 
 box, it would enable the prisoner to escape. 
 
 They looked, therofore, with the greatest distrust upon 
 their chief when he said : 
 
 " Go and fetch a red-hot poker, somebody. Wo must 
 make one or two holes, or he will be dead before we get 
 there." 
 
 With veiy bad grace, one* of the officers made his way 
 down to one of the rooms Where a firo was burning, wl «fS 
 he could obtain a red-hot p u er. 
 
 We may as well say here that the remainder of the force 
 had searched the house, and made prisoners of Mother 
 Eobotham and the rest of their gang. 
 
 The police officer did not, of course, find a poker red- 
 hot and ready to his hand. 
 
 He had to thrust one into tho fire, and wait vt^V 'i 
 heated. 
 
 As the fire was a good one, it did not take very long, and 
 60, with the instrument white hot, he made his way back 
 to the landing at the top of the house, from which the box 
 had not yet been moved. 
 
 Jack Sheppard continued his vociferations for air, and 
 In some way or other managed to drum with his feet, either 
 against the bottom or end of the box. 
 
 The chief police officer took the red-hot poker from his 
 subordinate, and burned three holes with it in tho top. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was really grateful for the fresh ^ir that 
 came in through these holes. 
 
 The chest was nearly air-tight, and had not his demand 
 for air been attended to, he would certainly have been 
 defunct by the time they got to Newgate. 
 
 However, after one or two inhalations of tho fresh air 
 he felt all right, and in order to show his captors that he 
 was by no iuca,ns dismayed or cast down by the triumph 
 they had achieved over him, he cried out : 
 
 " Thank you, old fellow, I'm all right now, and Jack 
 Sheppard is not the one to forget a kindness !" 
 
 The first impulse of the officers was to laugh at the very 
 comical idea nf their powerless pri oner doing them a kind- 
 ness. 
 
 But, upon second thoughts, they became suddenly 
 silent, and looked with fresh suspicion and distrust at tho 
 holes which their superior had bored. 
 
 They fancied Jack had some deep motive for making his 
 request, and the words ho had just spoken, as well as the 
 tone of voice in which they wore uttered, confirmed them 
 in this idea. 
 
 They resolved to keep an extra sharp look-out, for if 
 Jack Sheppard did escape, they made up their minds it 
 should be through no want of vigilance upon their part. 
 
 They were aroused from these reflections by the voice 
 of the chief officer, who commanded them to cany the 
 box downstairs. 
 
 As each end was furnished with a strong and convenient 
 iron handle, they found this task comparatively easy. 
 
 But the most amusing part of the business was to seo 
 the amount of solicitude with which each officer regarded 
 tho chest. 
 
 The two who had hold of the handles were looked upon 
 with envy by the rest, who, however, comforted them- 
 selves with the prospect of a change in the bearers taking 
 place. 
 
 Had their wishes been consulted, each one would have 
 desired to havo hold of the chest somowhero or other, for 
 under no other circumstances could they feel that tho 
 prisoner was safe. 
 
 In this manner, then, and without tho occurrence of any 
 accident or incident, tho chest was carried downstairs 
 into the entrance-hall of the house, whero, for a moment 
 or two, it was deposited. 
 
 Tho chief police officer was not a whit less anxious 
 for tho security of Jack Sheppard than his inferiors, so ho 
 determined — although the distance to Newgate was con- 
 siderable — that he would not trust to a hackney-coach, but 
 have tho chest carried to its destination, tho officers uudcr 
 his orders to take in turns the task of carrying it. 
 
 When ho made known this determination to his men, it 
 was received by them with evident pleasure. 
 
 Of the two, they would much rather not havo trusted to 
 a backney-coach. 
 
 They preferred tho honour of carrying tho chest to 
 Newgate. 
 
 These instructions having been given, and as there was 
 no need for any additional delay, the box was raised by 
 two of tho officers, and tho remainder falling into a kind 
 of procession in the rear, awaited their turn to cany tho 
 chest. 
 
 As they emerged from tho houso in Spring Gardens into 
 the street, it looked like somo strango and grotesque 
 funeral train. 
 
 There were sufficient officers among those who had 
 arrived as a reinforcement to take charge of the house, 
 and to convey the her prisoners to the lock-up, and those 
 were the duties mat were delegated to them. 
 
 As for those who had gone oil in search of Blueslun, 
 they had not yet returned. 
 
 We happen to know that they had rather a long chase 
 after tho object of their pursuit. 
 
 Leaving all these, however, wo will direct the whole_ of 
 our attention to the officers who carried the box in which 
 .• u-k. Z l«cppard lay in such a critical condition. 
 
 Tho -weather, then, on that night— which, from its event- 
 ful character, we have so frequently had occasion to 
 describe— had by no means improved. 
 
 The snow and sleet still came down, but it was now 
 accompanied with a driving wind from the north-cast, 
 which much augmented its disagreeable character. 
 
 It blew steadily in the face of the officers nearly all tho 
 way to Newgate. 
 
 Tho sharp, icy particles with which it was laden seemed 
 to strike their faces like so many needles. 
 
 But tne exultant state of their minds made them com- 
 paratively heedless of the inclemency and disagreeableness 
 of the weather. 
 
 On they trudged steadily enough, pausing every now 
 and then to change bearers ; for, though Jack himself was 
 not heavy, the chest in which ho was confined was, and 
 tho officers found it a great task upon their muscles to 
 carry their burden fai. 
 
 Accordingly, the chest was frequently put down and 
 taken up again, to the great personal discomfort of the 
 prisoner, who was rolled about from side to side with very 
 little consideration. 
 
 For the information of those miacq tainted wltfl London,
 
 6C0 
 
 BLUESKIN' : K TtOMAN'CB. 
 
 it may be as •well to state that the distance from the house 
 hi Spring Gardens, whero Jack Sheppard was captured, 
 to Newgate, is somewhere about two miles. 
 
 Owing to the slow rate at which they wero compelled 
 to walk, the journey consumed a considerable quantity of 
 time. 
 
 Still the officers were satisfied. 
 
 At every step they took, the confidence jthey felt in 
 having their prisoner secure increased. 
 
 Scarcely for a moment had one of them removed his 
 ey^s from the precious chest which contained so great a 
 treasure. 
 
 They were reconciled to their labour, to the hail and 
 snow and sleet — in fact, they were oblivious of all but one 
 object, and that was to get Jack Sheppard safely within 
 the doors of Newgate. 
 
 They calculated, and very plausibly too, that when once 
 the box was safely inside Newgate, the lid could be raised, 
 and the prisoner taken out without his having the 
 slightest chance afforded him of making his escape. 
 
 Indeed, they told themselves that, before the lid of the 
 box was raised, such precautions could be taken as to 
 make it quite impossible. 
 
 We shall see how they got on after being so far success- 
 ful. 
 
 For a moment, however, let us bestow a glance upon 
 •Sick Sheppard in his most uncomfortable abiding-place. 
 
 His demand for air was most certainly necessary ; and 
 had not the holes been bored in the lid of the box in the_ 
 manner we have described, he would inevitably have been 
 suffocated. 
 
 When the relief came, he was only just able to draw his 
 breath in sudden and fitful gasps ; and he could feel that 
 the veins in his head were swelling and threatening to 
 burst. 
 
 Almost the first mouthful of fresh air that he obtained, 
 however, had the effect of alleviating these symptoms. 
 
 But he found his situation the most uncomfortable one 
 that he had ever been placed in. 
 
 Bound hand and foot as hi? was, in such a manner that 
 he could not make the slightest movement without the 
 greatest difficulty, and placed in this helpless state in a 
 box that was four times larger than it need have teoc for 
 such a purpose, it is easy to conceive how unpleasaat he 
 found it when the chest was lumbered about anyhow, for 
 the officers did not study his personal comfort in the 
 least. 
 
 Going downstairs was the worst. 
 
 Jack suddenly felt one end of the chest raised much 
 higher than the other, and bump went his head against 
 the other end. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXLVIII. 
 
 THE POLICE OFFICERS MEET WITH A SLIGHT SURPRISE ON 
 OPENING THE LTD OP THE CHEST. 
 
 The force of the blow was sufficiently great partially to 
 deprive Jack of his consciousness, and the remainder of 
 the stairs were descended while his intellects were in too 
 confused a state for him to have a very clear idea of what 
 was taking place. 
 
 The bang with which the chest was placed down on the 
 floor of the hall assisted to restore him to consciousness. 
 
 As the holes wero in the lid of the chest, he was able to 
 hear the consultation of the officers, and at first he listened 
 with greedy attention. 
 
 Presently, however, becoming disgusted with their 
 needless fears, he set his brain to work to devise some 
 means of bettering his condition. 
 
 Desperate as his situation was, he had not abandoned all 
 hope of making his escape, though he was well aware that 
 I the difficulties in the way of achieving his object were very 
 J great indeed. 
 
 But Jack was n ot of a disposition to magnify difficulties 
 I or to meet trouble half-way. 
 
 As he told hinis elf, there was no harm in his trying to 
 essape, oven if he failed in doing so. 
 | Accordingly, as a preliminary step, he set himself to 
 work to find so me means of disencumbering himself of the 
 mass of rop e with which he was covered. 
 j Could h e, like the Brothers Davenport, have called in 
 . the spirits to his aid in untying the knots, the said spirits 
 i would have been more useful than they hare shown 
 < ihomselves to be as yet 
 
 But Jack had no power of summoning spirits to do such 
 material work. 
 
 Nevertheless, he was not without the knack of freeing 
 himself from ropes tied about him, of which the gentlemen 
 just alluded to have made so golden a harvest and so many 
 fools. 
 
 Sensible minds cannot but have one feeling with regard 
 to the effects produced by these exhibitions — or spiritual 
 manifestations, as they are called. 
 
 That feeling is regret. 
 
 Regret that in the present day, so eminently tho ago of 
 universal intelligence, people could be found with such im- 
 becile minds as to place credence in so ridiculous and de- 
 grading a superstition. 
 
 But let the world be as wise as it will, there will always 
 be fools. 
 
 It is a pity, perhaps ; but so it always has been, and so 
 it always will be. 
 
 Wo must ask the reader's pardon for digressing thus. 
 
 Tho similarity of tho incident will probably be som» 
 excuse. 
 
 Jack then, we say, if ho could not call .'o the spirits to 
 aid him, as the Davenport Brothers pretend to do, yet was 
 in possession, to a certain extent, of the old juggler's feat 
 which they perform. 
 
 Accordingly, he set himself to work upon the ropes. 
 
 But he found his task one of extraordinary difficulty. 
 
 He could not smke the least use of his hands or his 
 feet. 
 
 But he was able to raise himself up into a curious kind 
 of sitting posture, and by the aid of his teeth, which had 
 been left at liberty, he set to work to gnaw through souio 
 of the cords by which his legs were bound together. 
 
 This was a task so tedious that probably na other prrson 
 than Jack Sheppard would havo attempted it. 
 
 But at length he got hold of a knot in his teeth, and 
 with much more ease than he ever would have thought 
 possible he untied it. 
 
 The same operation ho performed upon another and 
 another, and by the time the officers had finished their 
 dispute, and picked up the chest to carry it into the street, 
 he had freed himself of so many of the ropes as to be 
 able to move with much greater ease and freedom than 
 before. 
 
 Stimulated by the success with which his efforts had 
 so far been crowned, he continued them with fresh 
 vigour. 
 
 He was terribly at a loss for the use of his hands, and 
 at first it seemed impossible fr>r him to release them. 
 
 But having so far rid him» • of the ropes as to make 
 the attempt to do this much easier than it had been, he 
 tried and tried with a determination to succeed. 
 
 His wrists were secured by handcuffs, and bis elbows 
 were pinioned behind his back with rope. 
 
 His first effort was to remove the handcuffs. 
 
 As his hands were so small as almost to be styled 
 diminutive, and so supple and flexible as to bend easily, 
 he did not doubt that he should be able to achieve the 
 feat which he had more than once before performed of 
 slipping them off. 
 
 The only thing was that he was in an unfavourable and 
 awkward position to make the attempt. 
 
 He tried. 
 
 The handcuffs were small, and fitted his wrists some- 
 what tightly. 
 
 Nevertheless, screwing his hand up into the smallest 
 compass, he tried to draw it through the hard iron 
 ring. 
 
 He tugged at it manfully, and bore the excruciating 
 pain which every effort occasioned with the fortitude of 
 a stoic. 
 
 His teeth were clenched, and his lips tightly compressed 
 together. 
 
 But no sound — not even a murmur escaped him. 
 
 The skin was torn off the back of his hand in long 
 strips. 
 
 He did not care, however, as long as ho got his hand 
 further and further through the handcuff. 
 
 At length it was free, and then, and not till then, did he 
 almost give utterance to a cry. 
 
 It would have been one of triumph. 
 
 But he checked himself. 
 
 So long as one hand was released from tho handcuff h«_ 
 cared not for the other.
 
 BLTJBSKIN : aJbOMANOE. 
 
 JACK. SHEPPARD IN THE STRONG BOOM OF NEWGATB. 
 
 He was content for the present that he should remain 
 encumbered with it. 
 
 What he had next to d» was to remove his arms from 
 the cord by which they were secured. 
 
 This was hardest of all, for at first he could not attack 
 it with his hands or his teeth. 
 
 By pressing his elbows together though, and writhing 
 his body, he contrived to slip the rope lower and lower 
 down his arms until at length he was freed from it al- 
 together. 
 
 He was new quite released from all the bonds which his 
 captors had placed upon him. 
 
 His whole body was at liberty, and if he did anything 
 more towards his escape, he would have to make an attack 
 upon the box. 
 
 It was just, however, as he had got rid of the noose 
 that confined his arms behind his back, that the box was 
 put down with a sudden crash which shook every bone in 
 his body. 
 
 Of course Jack could not see where he was, and, there- 
 No. 71. 
 
 fore, he did not take se much notice of this as ae would 
 Lave VI one had he been able to look about him. 
 
 It was not the first time by a great many that the box 
 had been set down in this unceremonious manner. 
 
 In fact, it happened whenever a change of bearers took 
 place, and this was pretty eften as they drew nearer to 
 Newgate, for the men's arms were tired. 
 
 They had no consideration for the comfort of their 
 prisoner. 
 
 Each time they halted, down went the box with a bang, 
 and not as though there was anything capable of feeling 
 inside ef it. 
 
 We have said, then, that as soon as his limbs were at 
 liberty, the box was set down in the violent manner 
 described. 
 
 Then the next sound whieh struck upon Jack's ears was 
 a tremendous knoeking. 
 
 Then he came to a correct conclusion as to where ho 
 was. 
 
 He had been put down on the pavement outside the 
 
 Ho. 71.
 
 SOS 
 
 BLtTESKIN : A EOHANtii. 
 
 prison, and the knocking which ho heard TT3S a summons 
 for admission upon the wicket of Newgate. 
 
 This was a discovery which made him almost mad, and 
 he beat frantically against the sides of the chest in a vain 
 effort to free himself. 
 
 The officers noticed this and laughed. 
 
 The apprehensions which had for so long held posses- 
 sion of their minds had for the most part vanished. 
 
 They had little doubt about being able to get their 
 prisoner inside Newgate now that they had brought him 
 bo far. 
 
 The man on the lock must have been sound asleep, for 
 no notice whatever was ta&nn of the officers' vigorous 
 appeal, and they renewed it. 
 
 This time they met with a grumbling response, and a 
 sleepy-looking jailer made his appearance at the 
 wicket. 
 
 " Unllo !" he cried. " What is it ? Is the blessed place 
 afire?" 
 
 " No. But we have brought Jacu. Sheppard a prisoner." 
 
 The utterance of these few words produced a marvellous 
 effect. 
 
 The man who seemed so sleepy became suddenly wide- 
 awake. 
 
 There was the click of the well-oiled lock, and then the 
 door of the prison grated open iipon its hinges. 
 
 Once more, and for the last time, the officers stooped 
 and took hold of the handles of the chest. 
 
 Two of them raised it, and it was not without some 
 difficulty it was got up the narrow flight of stone steps 
 and through the narrow door into the vestibule or 
 lobby. 
 
 Upon the stone floor of this place the chest was again 
 set down with a force sufficient to dislocate every bone in 
 poor Jack's body. 
 
 A thousand echoes were raised in that dreary, vaulted 
 place by the violence of the concussion. 
 
 The man on the lock looked with the utmost surprise 
 upon the wooden chest, and it was not until he had re- 
 flected for seme moments that he came to the conclusion 
 that the famous Jack Sheppard must be within it. 
 
 Two more night-turnkeys, who had been sitting asleep 
 in the little room adjoining the vestibule, aroused by the 
 clatter and confusion of the new arrival now made their 
 appearance. 
 
 As soon as he caught sight of them, the chief officer 
 addressed them sternly. 
 
 " Go and call Mr. Noakcc," he said. " Tell him we are 
 here with a prisoner of the utmost importance." 
 
 " The guv'nor won't be very pleased at being disturbed, 
 I can tefi you," replied one of the turnkeys, grum- 
 blingly. 
 
 " Never mind that. You tell him that I am one of the 
 chief officers from Bow Street, and have brought Jack 
 Sheppard a prisoner to him, for whoso body I want a 
 receipt." 
 
 The effect produced upon the two turnkeys by this 
 announcement was quite as great as that which it had 
 produced upon the man on the lock. 
 
 "Ja — Jack Sheppard?" stammered one of them, at 
 langth. 
 
 " Yes, idiot !" cried the officer, in a rage. 
 
 " Gammon !" said the turnkey, as he glanced knowingly 
 around him. " Where is he ?" 
 
 " In that box," replied the officer. 
 
 The turnkeys gave one glance towards it. 
 
 That satisfied them, and they made their way at onco 
 into the interior of the prison, taking the route to the 
 governor's apartments. 
 
 Until Mr. Noakes arrived, the officers could do nothing 
 but keep their eyes on the chest. 
 
 This they did, and not satisfied apparently with this, 
 several seated themselves upon the lid. 
 
 And so the time anxiously passed, until the governor 
 made his appearance. 
 
 He was not long in coming. 
 
 The intelligence the two turnkeys communicated to him 
 was of a character well calculated to induce him to make 
 the utmost expedition. 
 
 He hastily slipped on his clothing, and having done so, 
 took down a blunderbuss that hung from two hooks over 
 the mantelpiece in his bedroom. 
 
 Armed with this formidable weapon, which he always 
 kept loaded and ready for use, Mr. Noakes descended tho 
 
 stairs with the turnkey who had brought the intelligence 
 close at his heels. 
 
 On their way this man described the box in which Jack 
 Sheppard was said to be, but, of course, he could give the 
 governor of the prison no idea of how he had been put 
 in it. 
 
 The governor had a personal feeling against Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 He hated him with an intensity that knew no bound. 
 
 This is not to be wondered at. 
 
 Jack had, by his escapes, been the means of getting hira 
 into serious trouble with the authorities, and upon one oc- 
 casion he nearly lost his situation. 
 
 In fact, had he not been backed up by peoplo possessing 
 great influence, he would infallibly have been dis- 
 charged. 
 
 As it hap^aned, he was allowed to remain in office ; but 
 this narrow escape engendered a feeling of the deepest 
 hate in his bosom against Jack Sheppard, which would 
 only be satisfied with his death. 
 
 That this daring offender was once more within the 
 walls of Newgate was such a piece of good news that he 
 dreaded to give credence to it, lest he should be dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 With an anxiety which we leave the reader to depict, 
 he made his wa^ towards the vestibule. 
 
 When he made his appearance, a general movement 
 took place among the officers. 
 
 They had for the most part clustered round the box con- 
 taining their living treasure, but now they drew aside and 
 disclosed it to view. 
 
 Upon seeing Mr. Noakes, the chief officer stepped 
 forward. 
 
 " I have brought an important prisoner, Mr. Noakes," 
 he said, "and one I should advise you to look sharp after, 
 for fear he should slip through your fingers again." 
 
 The governor made a wry face. 
 
 Any allusion to Jack's escapes was excessively distaste- 
 ful to him, and so, in a by no means pleasant tone of voice, 
 he said : 
 
 " What prisoner have you brought, Mr. Officer?" 
 
 "No other than tho notorious housebreaker, Jack 
 Sheppard." 
 
 " Indeed ! Where is ho ? I do not see him," said the 
 governor, pretending ignorance of tho contents of the 
 chest 
 
 " He is in that box, Mr. Noakes," said tke chief officer, 
 pointing to the object named. 
 
 " In that box ? How came he there ?" 
 
 "We captured him and bound him securely, but know- 
 ing what a slippery customer he was, we got that box and 
 put him in it, and so have brought him safely to 
 Newgate." 
 
 " A good plan," said the governor, with a grim smile. 
 " If you have got him in that box, I will answer for it that 
 don't get out of Newgate again." 
 
 " That's all right, then ! He is in the box, never fear, 
 so give me your ] eceipt for having him in your custody." 
 
 "Fair and softly, good sir ! Not so fast, if you pleasej 
 I have not got him in custody yet. I must see whether 
 he is in the box or not before I give a signature for 
 him." 
 
 " Oh, that's all right enough !" said the officer. " You 
 be prepared, and we'll have him out of the box pretty 
 quick." 
 
 Mr. Noakes turned round, and directed his men to see 
 that all the doors leading from the vestibule of tho prison 
 were properly closed and fastened. 
 
 This done, he next ordered them to furnish themselves 
 with either blunderbusses or pistols. 
 
 There were plenty of these weapons in the lodge, and 
 the turnkeys armed themselves with them. 
 
 The police officers drew their pistols, and cocked 
 them. 
 
 All then stood round the box in an irregular circle, 
 while thp chief officer fumbled in his pocket for the 
 key. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCXLIX 
 
 JACE SHEPPARD IS CONSIGNED TO THE STRONO ROOM IS 
 NEWGATE, CALLED THE CASTLE. 
 
 Upon the countenances of all present an expression of 
 great anxiety was depicted.
 
 BLUESKIN: A BflMANUB. 
 
 563 
 
 The chief officer having found the key, advanced with 
 it rather nervously towards the box, and much of the con- 
 fidence he had felt with respect to the security of his 
 prisoner vanished. 
 
 He felt the necessity, however, of screwing his courage 
 to the sticking place ; and so, calling out to his men to be 
 upon their guard, and requesting two others to approach 
 and seize the prisoner as soon as the box was opened, he 
 thrust the key into tho lock and turned it round. 
 
 There was a shirp, clicking sound, and at the same 
 moment the lid of the box was dashed violently open. 
 
 They were astounded. 
 
 Jack Sheppard, who they thought was so securely 
 bound by cords, stood up in the box, with his limbs as 
 free as their own. 
 
 Ere he could spring out and alight among his captors, 
 as he fully intended to do, ho was seized by the chief 
 officer and his two subordinates. 
 
 Jack struggled desperately with them, but he could not 
 shake off their grasp. 
 
 He was too overawe d by the numerous firearms pointed 
 nt him. 
 
 It was impossible for him to escape all of them, and he 
 gnashed his teeth together as ho found that all his efforts 
 had been in vain. 
 
 He had exhausted himself, and that was all. 
 
 This was indeed a most disheartening discovery to make, 
 and he could not for a moment obtain the mastery over 
 himself, so deeply was he disappointed. 
 
 Of this moment the police officers of course took every 
 advantage, and several, laying aside their weapons, closed 
 round him and held him secure. 
 
 Mr. Noakes had already taken the precaution to send to 
 the smith to brmg the fetters, and a tremendous clanking 
 din in one of the corridors without now announced his 
 approach. 
 
 Ho had got hold of the irons with one hand. 
 
 They were too heavy to carry, and so he dragged them 
 along the stone floor of the passage after him. 
 
 It was the scraping of the iron over the stones that 
 made such a clatter. 
 
 At a sign from Mr. Noakes a door was opened, and then 
 the smith entered. 
 
 In addition to the irons, he earned with him a small 
 portable anvil, and a hammer and rivets. 
 
 His face expanded into a grin when he saw Jack Shep- 
 pard, and without a moment's hesitation or delay he 
 walked right up to the box. 
 
 " Aha, Mr. Sheppard ! how do you do ?" he said, in a 
 taunting voice, and throwing his implements down as he 
 spoke. " You don't look quite so fresh and well as you 
 did the last time I performed this little service for you ! 
 Ah, well, you have given me a deal of trouble ; but when 
 you escaped last time I made up my mind that I would 
 keep you secure if ever you passed through my hands 
 again, and so I set to work to make a set of jewelry 
 heavier and stronger than had ever been seen before. I 
 thought I was never going to have an opportunity of 
 using them ; but here you are again, and here are the 
 irons, and if you get out of them I will forfeit my 
 head." 
 
 While running on in this style, the smith was busy in 
 arranging his different articles, and began to place them 
 upon Jack. 
 
 The fetters were really of enormous size and great 
 weight, and no doubt they had been made expressly for 
 Jack Sheppard. 
 
 The smith handled them affectionately, and clasped the 
 rings round Jack's ankles, and riveted them there with an 
 expression of satisfaction on his countenance that would, 
 under other circumstances, have been highly amusing to 
 Titness. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had no chance of making any resistance, 
 aud he forbore to attempt it, for he knew how utterly 
 useless it would be. 
 
 So he stood still enough there while the smith gabbled 
 en, and while the fetters were secured to his person. 
 
 When this was finished, he found himself loaded with 
 about two hundredweight of iron ; but, for all that, tho 
 officers did not deem it safe to release their grasp, though 
 Tack could not possibly have moved, except slowly and 
 with great difficulty. 
 
 The chief officer, however, now ventured to renew his 
 request to the governor for a receipt to the effect that he 
 
 had delivere * the prisoner, and this Mr. N"«kes could no 
 longer refuse to furnish. 
 
 He accordingly filled up and signed the printed form 
 that was used on such occasions, and handed it to the 
 officer, who he at the same time requested to remain until 
 he had seen Jack properly disposed of in a cell. 
 
 To this no objection was made, and the governor called 
 out to one of the turnkeys to get the key of the Castle. 
 
 The Castle was the name that was given to a strong 
 rcom in Newgate which in former times, tradition said, 
 was the place where many valuables were kept, though 
 what valuables were likely to be in Newgate to require 
 guarding we know not. 
 
 Neither do we know why it was called the Castle, with- 
 out it was in reference to its strength. 
 
 The turnkey looked surprised at the governor's man- 
 date, though he said nothing, but simply took down the 
 keys as he had been bid. 
 
 The other turnkeys provide themselves with lanterns, 
 and the whole party formed themselves into a procession, 
 and proceeded in the direction of the Castle. 
 
 What kind of a place this was Jack Sheppard had no 
 idea, for he had never heard of it before, and the strange- 
 ness of tho name filled him with curiosity. 
 
 Tho distance from the vestibule of the prison to the 
 strong rooM was not very great, but Jack found the ex- 
 cessive weight of his fetters made it painful in the ex- 
 treme for him to walk. 
 
 The officers, the turnkeys, and the governor noted this 
 with satisfaction, for it seemed to them an additional as- 
 surance that Jack would not this time be able to escape. 
 
 The smith rubbed hi3 grimy hands together, ana 
 chuckled with satisfaction. 
 
 H^-edless, but not unconscious of all this, Jack kept on 
 steadily, summoning all tho strength he could, and dis- 
 guising, as well as he was able, the effort it cost him to 
 walk. 
 
 At length, to his relief, the door of tho Castle was 
 reached. 
 
 The whole party halted in the passage while the turn- 
 key unlocked the ponderous door. 
 
 A long time had elapsed since that room had been last 
 entered, and the wards of the lock had got rusted, so that 
 the key acted upon them with difficulty. 
 
 By exerting his utmost strength, the turnkey succeeded 
 in forcing back the bolt of the lock, and then a vigorous 
 push sent the door open upon its hinges. 
 
 The lanterns which the turnkeys carried only insuffi- 
 ciently illuminated the place, but Jack took care to make 
 all the use of bis eyes that he possibly could. 
 
 He took in everything at one comprehensive glance, 
 and dwelt upon those details which he thought would be 
 of service to him. 
 
 He was not allowed so much time tor this as he could 
 have wished, for his captors turned him into the cell. 
 
 It was a gloomy-looking place, though somewhat large. 
 
 But its smooth, damp walls had a disagreeable aspect. 
 
 There was one grated window, and through this there 
 came the first faint rays of tho approaching daylight, 
 which, mingling with tho light of the lanterns, gave the 
 place an appearance of additional ghastliness. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was led to one portion of the wall where 
 two staples were driven into the masonry. 
 
 From both of these depended an iron chain of massive 
 links. 
 
 He was placed close to one, and the smith attached the 
 chain to the iron band that was fastened round his waist. 
 
 Surely, now ono would have thought he was helpless 
 enough, but his foes were not satisfied. 
 
 They had noticed how he had contrived to get rid of 
 the other pair of handcuffs, and another pair a sizo 
 smaller was produced. 
 
 These were fastened round his wrists, in which they 
 made, when clasped, deep and painful indentations. 
 
 The governor, and those who were with him, now at 
 last thought he was secure, and having, ono after another, 
 examined his fetters, he was left to himself. 
 
 The heavy door was dragged shut. 
 
 The key was turned in the lock, the bolts shot into 
 their sockets, and every means taken to make it fast. 
 
 With a feeling of satisfaction they all made their way 
 to the vestibule again, where Mr. Noakes congratulated 
 the officers, and they separated mutually pleased with 
 each other.
 
 6Ct 
 
 BLUESKIN: a romance. 
 
 Let us return to Jack in his lonely prison cell. 
 
 This was a 6udden and unexpected reverse of fortune. 
 
 It had come upon him at a moment when he least ex- 
 pected such a catastrophe, and his brain was puzzled to 
 know how it had been braugbt about, for Jack was not in 
 possession of those facts with which we have made the 
 reader acquainted respecting the presence ©f the police- 
 officers at Mother Robotham's, in Spring Gardens. 
 
 This was a mystery to him, and was likely to remain so, 
 for he had no means of obtaining any intelligence upon 
 the subject. 
 
 When his captors left him, Jack did not attempt to move 
 from his position. 
 
 He felt the need of a little reflection, and so he simply 
 loaned his back against the wall and folded his arms 
 across his breast. 
 
 In this attitude he gave himself up to thought. 
 
 There was much to distress, and nothing to eomfort 
 him, and ho sighed heavily when he thought of his 
 position. 
 
 There was nothing cheering either in the objects with 
 which he was surrounded or in the future that lay before 
 him. 
 
 For the first time in his life, Jack Sheppard felt a sen- 
 sation akin to despair, or hopelessness. 
 
 The reader can account for it. 
 
 Throughout the many and strange incidents of his 
 chequered career we have seen how he has bor-ne light- 
 heartedly, every reverse of fortune. 
 
 Jonathan Wild found him more than a match in conse- 
 quence of his undauntedness and extraordinary energy. 
 
 Hitherto Jack had risen superior to every misfortune 
 which had assailed him, and had set at defiance all that 
 an adverse fate could accomplish. 
 
 Never before had he been so cast down as he was at 
 this moment. 
 
 Never had he felt so unenergetie. 
 
 And why ? Edgworth Bess was the cause. 
 
 While he had seen her the object of the thief-taker's 
 persecution he had felt himself possessed of the vigour of 
 a dozen men. 
 
 But the last intelligence he had heard respecting her 
 was the cruolest shock of all. 
 
 Patiently andperseveringly he had traoed her to Mother 
 Robotham's infamous abode. 
 
 Up to this moment it was clear that she had not been 
 allowed to act according to her own will, but had been 
 compelled to succumb to that of others. 
 
 But what dreadful news concerning her had the young 
 girl not communicated ? 
 
 Edgworth Bess had been introduced to some young 
 nobleman, and had voluntaiiiy quitted the house in his 
 company, and had not been seen or heard of since. 
 
 This was a thought that was maddening to Jack, and, 
 strive as he would, he could not banish it from his 
 mind. 
 
 What was he to think of such a circumstance ? 
 
 Full well he recollected the circumstances under which 
 he had parted with Edgworth Bess. % 
 
 He knew she had fledUrom him in anger and disgust. 
 
 He had refused her requests — he had turned a deaf car 
 to all her entreaties. 
 
 For doing eo, she left him, and he had never seen her 
 since. 
 
 She had eluded his closest search, until by accidont ho 
 learned that she was at Mother Robotham's. 
 
 He arrived here only to receive news a thousand times 
 more distressing than any which had come t® his ears. 
 
 Probably she no longer loved him, since he had shown 
 her that ho could refuse that which she so earnestly re- 
 quested. 
 
 He ground his teeth, as ho thought that this young 
 nobleman had constituted himself her champion and de- 
 fender, and had, as a preliminary step, rescued her from 
 that house. 
 
 He pictured in his mind the poor heiress instated in 
 her rights by means of this unknown nobleman, and then 
 what would be more natural than for Edgworth Bess to 
 bestow her affections upon him, as a recompense for what 
 ho had done. 
 
 With these and a thousand similar tortures did Jacs 
 tack his mind until he wrought himself up into a state 
 of positive fBenzy. 
 
 He felt, indeed, that ho was rapidly going mad, and he 
 
 dashed his head against the stone wall with all the fury of 
 delirium. 
 
 Could but some one at that mement have whispered in 
 his ears a full account of all that had taken place ! 
 
 What a startling effect weuld that communication have 
 produced. 
 
 No longer would he have given way to the impotency 
 of madness and grief. 
 
 Once moro weuld he have been endowed with that 
 wonderful and resistless energy which surprised tho 
 whole world. 
 
 Impossible as the task may have seemed, he weuld have 
 set about making his escape. 
 
 Little did he think that all those tortures he suffered se 
 exquisitely were created by and existed solely in his imagi- 
 nation. 
 
 Sueh, however, was the case ; and at that very moment 
 Edgworth Bess was more securely in the power of the 
 villanous thief-taker than she had ever been, for both Jack 
 and Blueskia were in ignorance of her situation. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCL. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR OP NEWGATE RESOLVES TO LOOK SHARP 
 AFTER HIS PRISONER, AND HAS AN EXTRAORDINARY 
 INTERVIEW WITH JONATHAN WILD. 
 
 Mr. Noakes, the Governor of Newgate, after bidding 
 adieu to the chief officer from Bow Street, stood for a 
 moment on the flight of stone steps which lead from the 
 door of the prison into the street. 
 
 There was a look of extreme satisfaction visible upon 
 his countenance as bo gazed after the retreating forms of 
 the officers, and he chuckled oddly in his throat. 
 
 " I have him here ©nee more !" he said, rubbing his 
 hands one over the other with disagreeable briskness. 
 " I have him once more ; and I will take such precaution 
 this time that were he ten thousand times as clever as he 
 is he should not have the least ehance of escape. I will 
 make it my special business to look after him myself, and 
 I care not how much inconvenience I may have to put up 
 with in consequence." 
 
 Muttering these words half aloud, half to himself, Mr. 
 Noakes turned round and entered the prison. 
 
 Giving a few orders to his men, he made his way to his 
 own bedchamber. 
 
 Upon arriving here, however, he felt but little inclina- 
 tion to turn in again, and still less when he found that day 
 had fairly dawned. 
 
 He had dressed himself rather hastily when he had 
 been summoned, but now he set to work to change all 
 that. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" be muttered, " I wonder whether Jonathan 
 Wild is up. I dare say he is. Wo have not been quite 
 such good friends lately as we used to be. Well, I don't 
 wonder at it, fer no doubt ho thought I was careless ; 
 but we shall be good friends now. I will go and tell him 
 that I have got Jack Sheppard again — ha, ha !'* 
 
 The prospect of making this communication to the 
 thief-taker seemed to please the Governor exceedingly.. 
 
 Soon, however, his thoughts took a fresh direction." 
 
 " I must take care he don't escape again," he said, "or 
 I shall never be able to show my face. But I haven't 
 much fear. It's no good trusting to those turnkeys, 
 though ! I believe they are all in league with him. I 
 will take the matter entirely into my own hands. Let me 
 think now, what had best be dene ?" 
 
 Mr. Noakes finished the rest of his toilet in profound 
 reflection. 
 
 He had rather a thick head, and thinking was always * 
 difficult task for him. 
 
 As fo? inventive power he had none, and yet, at length, 
 by dint of hard thsught ho hit upon a schome that really 
 was excellently adapted to answer his purpose. 
 
 He was quite pleased with it. 
 
 " I know what I will do," he said. " Capital ! That 
 will astonish Mr. Jack, I rather think! I will go every 
 two hours and visit him in his dungeon. That's the plan ! 
 Why if he was to try t© escape, he could not do much in 
 two hours. "That shall be it. I will go regulaidy, and 
 never, miss. They won't got tho better of me this time, I 
 know !" 
 
 These words were on his lips as he descended the stair- 
 case.
 
 BUIESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 555 
 
 Upon reaching the ground-floor, however, he paused, 
 " Let me see !" he said. " I was going to ran round 
 the corner and see whether Jonathan was at home or not, 
 but before I do go, I will pay Mr. Jack his first visit ; I 
 can't be too caraful." 
 
 Mr. Noakes accordingly changed his course, and instead 
 of going out he repaired to the vestibule. 
 
 The turnkeys looked rather surprised and confused 
 when he entered, for they by no means expected that he 
 would make his appearance again so soon. 
 
 They had been standing in a group near the man on the 
 lock, talking about the prisoner, and making bets whether 
 he would, or would not, escape. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Noakes came in they separated. 
 
 The Governor looked all round and frowned, but said 
 nothing. 
 
 He walked straight up to the hook upon which a par- 
 ticular bunch of keys hung, and taking them he unlocked 
 a door, and closing it after him, disappeared. 
 
 The turnkeys w«re naturally much surprised at this 
 unusual proceeding, and wondered what it meant. 
 
 They were, however, unable to come to any conclusion, 
 and stood staring at the door until the Governor re- 
 turned. 
 
 He was not long absent. 
 
 He threaded the passages leading to the Castle with 
 rapidity which practice alone could have acquired. 
 
 Upon reaching the immense door he removed the pon- 
 derous fastenings and opened it. 
 
 A dim sort of twilight filled the cell, and by the aid of 
 this he saw Jack Sheppard sitting done on the stone-bench 
 that was near the portion of the watl to which he was 
 chained. 
 
 He saw the prisoner's white face bent seriously upen 
 him for a moment, and then withdrawn. 
 
 As soon as he saw who it was that had come to pay 
 him a visit, Jack resumed his old position, and took no 
 more notice than he would if he had still remained 
 alone. 
 
 Mr. Noakes entered the cell and closed the door behind 
 him. 
 
 He came close up to Jack, who once more raised his 
 head and looked him full in the face. 
 
 Mr. Noakes said nothing in reply to his inquiring glance, 
 but, with a weH-practised eye, examined tho fetters in 
 every part. 
 
 Indeed he was not satisfied with his eye only, for he 
 felt them also wi.th his hand. 
 
 They were quite secure, and at present it was certain 
 that they had not been tampered with in any way. 
 
 With a grunt of satisfaction he then turned away. 
 
 Once Jack opened his lips as if about to speak, but no 
 closed them again without uttering a word, as though, 
 upon second thought, he had deemed it most prudent to 
 remain silent. 
 
 He shrank back slightly when tho Governor touched 
 him, but he could not escape. 
 
 Mr. Noakes, however, saw the movement and under- 
 stood it, and he scowled. 
 
 He, too, remained silent, and as soon as he had assured 
 himself that his prisoner was perfectly safe and in the 
 same condition as he had been left, he closed the door, and 
 fastened it on the outside with scrupulous care. 
 
 He then retraced his steps to the lobby, whore he hung 
 the bunch of keys upon the peg from which he had taken 
 thorn. 
 
 The turnkeys had not yet recovered from their sur- 
 prise. 
 
 Their curiosity was excited to the utmost degree. 
 
 They guessed the Governor had just beon to Jack's cell, 
 but for what purpose after he had so soon been placed in 
 it, they were at a loss to imagine. 
 
 The more the Governor thought of his scheme the more 
 his mind approved of it, and there was a contented smile 
 upon his face as he said to the man on the lock : 
 
 " Open the door, Smith ! I am going out, but 1 shall 
 be back in less than five minutes !" 
 
 Smith obeyed instantly. 
 
 He took the brightly-polished key from his pocket and 
 inserted it in the lock. 
 
 There was a click, and then the door was open. 
 
 "Keep careful watch, Smith !" said the Governor as he 
 rrossed the threshold. 
 
 " Never fear, sir !" was the reply. 
 
 Slowly Mr. Noakes descended the steps and stood on 
 the footpath of the Old Bailey. 
 
 Ho was smiling more contentedly than ever. 
 
 He thought what a pleasing reception Jonathan Wild 
 would give him, and how acceptable the intelligence would 
 be which he was about to communicate to the thief-taker. 
 
 The broach which had for some time existed between 
 them would be completely healed over, and Mr. Noakes 
 well understood the advantage derivable from being on 
 good terms with the villain Jonathan. 
 
 With an airy, springy ste,p, the Governor walked along 
 the Old Bailey and. turned the corner into Newgate Street. 
 
 It was very early in the morning. 
 
 The sun had risen, but none of his beams as yet shone 
 into the streets. 
 
 There was an uncomfortable hazy mist hanging about, 
 and the air was raw and cold. 
 
 The roads, owing to the fall of snow and sleet during 
 tho night, were in a shocking state, but Mr. Noakes heeded 
 not all this; in fact, he was scarcely conscious of it, 
 although he shivered as he went along. 
 
 The distance, however, from the door of Newgate to 
 Jonathan's house was very trifling, and he soon stood 
 upon tho doorstep of No. 1, Newgate Street. 
 
 Kaising the ponderous knocker, he brought it down with 
 such force as threatened to split the panel. 
 
 There was not a second's delay in opening the door. 
 
 The reason was that Jonathan was expected. 
 
 It was Tonks who appeared, and he looked much sur- 
 prised when he saw the Governor of Newgate, for he 
 knew that he and the thief-taker' had not been very good 
 friends lately. 
 
 Mr. Noakes's face, too, was full of importance, and so 
 Tonks jumped to the conclusion in a moment that some- 
 thing extraordinary had taken plaee. 
 
 " Mr. Wild is not in !" he said, anticipating the Gover- 
 nor's question. 
 
 Mr. Noakes frowned and looked disappointed. 
 
 " Not in ?" he repeated, interrogatively. " Are you sure 
 of that ? I have some intelligence of the moBt important 
 character to communicate !" 
 
 " No, he is not in !" was the reply. " He has been outi 
 all night !" 
 
 " When do you expect him to return, then ?" 
 
 Tonks grinned. 
 
 "I do not know, Mr. Noakes. Old Johnny always 
 manages to arrivo when ho is least expected !" 
 
 " Then you can givo me no information as to when he 
 he is likely to return ?" 
 
 " No, sir, nor nobody else, but I'll tell you what I Can 
 do?" 
 
 " What ?" 
 
 " Why, if you like, when he comes in, I will either send 
 word to let you know, or else tell him you want to see 
 him." 
 
 " Very well, Tonks. Tell him to come to the prison to 
 me, as I have some intelligence of tho utmost importance." 
 
 " All right, Mr. Noakes !" 
 
 The Governor turned round and was about to descend 
 the steps when he caught sight of a hackney-coach crossing 
 over from Skinner Street. 
 
 He noticed it because it was the only vehicle which 
 happened to be in sight. 
 
 He paused in his descent, for he thought there was just 
 a chance that it contained the thief-taker. 
 
 He rosolved to see. 
 
 It was indeed Jonathan Wild who was approaching. 
 
 The reader will recollect that after he left the Prince of 
 Wales Inn, he gave instructions to three of his men to 
 watch the houss closely, and they walked away. 
 
 Ere ho had gono many steps he was overtaken by a 
 hackney-soach. 
 
 He hailed it instantly, and instructed the coachman to 
 drive him to Newgate Street. 
 
 Upon nearing his destination the thief-taker projected 
 his head out of the window of the carriage in order to tell 
 the driver where to stop. 
 
 As he did so, to his great surprise he saw Mr. Noakes 
 standing on the door-step. 
 
 He knew in a moment that something of an extraordi- 
 nary character had occurred, for the Governor's face was 
 full of expectation. 
 
 Jonathan hastily alighted from the veldcle, paid the man 
 his fare, and then ran up the steps.
 
 Mr. Noakes retreated into the hall. 
 
 " What has happened ?" asked Wild, instantly. 
 
 " I will tell you in a moment !" replied the Governor, 
 with a bland smile. " It is good news that I have to com- 
 municate !" 
 
 " Come this way, then," said Jonathan, and as ho spoke 
 he made his way upstairs. 
 
 Mr. Noakes followed closely. 
 
 The thief-taker led the way to the sitting-room, which 
 we have so frequently had occasion to describe. 
 
 He motioned to his visitor to take a seat, and sank down 
 himself upon a chair opposite. 
 
 But Jonathan took this precaution. 
 
 He 6at with his back to the window, while the Governor 
 of Newgate had his face turned towards it. 
 
 " Well !" said Jonathan, the moment ho had seated him- 
 self. " What is the news ?" 
 
 "I will tell you, Mr. Wild, first of all, I want to make a 
 few remarks !" 
 
 " Cut it short, then !" was the growling response. 
 
 " I shall be happy to comply with your wishes in this 
 respect as well as others, Mr. Wild. Of course I need 
 only say that of late we have not been quite such good 
 friends as we were some time back. Nor need I mention 
 the reason. I am sure I am very sorry for what has 
 occurred, but really it was no fault of mine — I could not 
 help it." 
 
 " Oh, never mind all that ! If you have got anything 
 to say, let's have it without so much d — d preface !" 
 
 " Very good, Mr. WDd, only I really did wish just to 
 mention these things. But, however, since you don't like 
 it I will 6ay no more, except that when that unfortunate 
 event happened I made up my mind to atone for it if 
 possible, and that is the reason I have never come near 
 since ; ' for,' said I to myself, ' of course Mr. Wild is very 
 much vexed about what has taken place I know he had 
 set his heart upon having the sentence carried out, 
 and ' " 
 
 " Oh, curse all that !" said Wild, in a rage. " If you are 
 going on like that I am off !" 
 
 " I only wanted to prepare your mind." 
 
 " Prepare be d — d ! What has happened ?" 
 
 " Nothing very serious ! Don't bo alarmed ! Yori will 
 
 be pleased when you hear that " 
 
 " What ? Curse you, why don't you go on ?" 
 
 " Why, that Jack Sheppard is a prisoner in Newgate. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCLI. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD PATS A VISIT TO JACK SnEITAItD m 
 THE CASTLE. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had half risen from his chak in his 
 anger at the Governor's prolixity. 
 
 But when he heard the startling and unexpected in- 
 telligence that Jack Sheppard was once more a prisoner 
 in Newgate, he sunk down in his seat literally gasping 
 with astonishment. 
 
 Recovering himself in a moment, however, he sprang 
 up with a yell that was enough to electrify anyone, and 
 then he grasped the governor by the throat. 
 
 He shook his head to and fro with great violence, and 
 so tight was his grasp that poor Mr. Noakes very rapidly 
 got red in the face. 
 
 "What do you mean?" roared Wild, "What do you 
 mean ? How dare you come and tell me such a thing to 
 my face ! Jack Sheppard in Newgate ? Impossible !" 
 
 Tho Governor gesticulated violently, for speak he could 
 not. 
 
 The first excitement produced by the surprise being over, 
 Jonathan released his grasp. 
 
 " Speak !" he said, "Tell me that again !" 
 
 Mr. Noakes rubbed his throat and looked wishfully at the 
 door, as though he would gladly enough have made his 
 way out of tho apartment. 
 
 There was nothing to hinder him now that Wild had 
 let go, but he had too much dread of his ferocious com- 
 panion to make the attempt. 
 
 He relapsed into his chair again, and Wild sank down 
 down into his. 
 
 Thus the pair sat and contemplated each other in silence, 
 •while the Governor was wholly occupied in attempting 
 to recover the proper use of his breath. 
 
 He opened and shut his mouth, gasping like a fish that 
 
 is suddenly lifted out of the water and placed upon tho 
 ground. 
 
 The thief-taker, in the meantime, recollocted himself, 
 trid overcame the first shock of his surprise. 
 
 " Speak !" he said at length. " Speak, I say, and tell 
 
 me ! Can it be possible that — that ; but no, it is folly! 
 
 there is somo mistake !" 
 
 "You have treated mo very roughly, Mr. Wild !" said 
 the Governor, ruefully ; " very roughly indeed ! I little 
 thought that you would repay me in such a manner, for 
 bringing you such important intelligence— I" 
 Jonathan frowned. 
 
 " Once for all," he said, " tell mo, and tell me truly, k 
 this some jest, or is it really true that Jack Sheppard is in 
 Newgate ?" 
 
 "It is perfectly true, Mr. Wild ! Believe me it is, and 
 no jest ! I left him then not a quarter of an hour ago !" 
 
 Jonathan again started to hi3 feet, but sank back into 
 his seat. 
 
 " More ! — more !" he cried. " You must toll me more 
 about this extraordinary affair! I cannot believe it ! Tell 
 me all the particulars." 
 Mr. Noakes did not hesitate to do so. 
 Ho told him not exactly all that tho reader is acquainted 
 with, but very nearly all — at any rate, sufficient to make 
 Jonathan clearly understand the aspect of affairs. 
 
 Its circumstantial character had the effect of remov- 
 ing all doubt from Jonathan's mind, who was at first afraid 
 to believe in so much good fortune, lest it should in the 
 end turn out to be untrue. 
 
 Now, however, he felt almost certain. 
 He questioned the Governor very closely ; for it puzzled 
 Wild to think how they came to bo in the house in Spring 
 Gardens. 
 
 He could not, for the life of him, imagine what brought 
 them there. 
 
 He was already sufficiently puzzled about Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 That she was separated from her two protectors he well 
 knew ; but he imagined 6ho had been left in some place of 
 safety by one of them. 
 How came she then to be flying through the streets ? 
 How came she to attempt to commit suicide by leaping 
 into the Thames ? 
 
 Some powerful motive must have led to it he knew ; for 
 it was the last deed which he thought she would have 
 committed. 
 
 This was an enigma which the thief-taker had no power 
 to solve ; and he tortured his brain to no effect. 
 He trusted ere long to be able to discover more. 
 " I cannot doubt any longer !" said Wild, at length. 
 " Pardon me for treating you as I did, it was the effect of 
 excitement, merely. However, as you said at first, we 
 have not been such good friends lately as we used to be; 
 but there is no reason why that should continue, so give 
 me your hand, and we will forget the transactions of the 
 last few weeks!" 
 
 "I am quite willing!" said Mr. Noakes with a grin, as 
 he took the huge rough hand extended towards him. " I 
 would much rather have you for a friend than an enemy !" 
 " We shall get on best you may depend, while we are 
 friendly," returned Jonathan; "because we are in a posi- 
 tion to be of great service to each other !" 
 " Just so !" 
 
 The thief-taker went to the cupboard, and produced s 
 bottle of brandy and two glasses. 
 
 " We will just have one dram," he said, as he filled his 
 own glass and pushed the bottle towards tho Governor — 
 " iast one dram, and we will drink to our future friend- 
 ship!" 
 
 Mr. Noakes filled up his glass, and drank off the con- 
 tents with great readinesss. 
 
 "Although my doubts are now quite at an end," said 
 Jonathan, as he put his glass down on the table, " still I 
 am 6ure I shall not feel perfectly satisfied until I havo 
 been to Newgate and seen the prisoner with my own 
 eyes." 
 
 "Very likely, Mr. Wild," was the rejoinder "lean 
 quite understand what that feeling is. I was, indeed, 
 going to propose that you should do so, only you did not 
 allow me an opportunity." 
 
 "Well, well — it's all right; but I feel that it would do 
 my heart good, and reconcile me to all my recent failures, 
 if I could see him so securo as you describe him to be !"
 
 bltteskin: a komance. 
 
 567 
 
 ,l You will find 1 have not deceivod you in any iespect r 
 Mr. Wild !" said the Governor, rising ; "and if Jack Shep- 
 pard, vrith all his cunning and cleverness, gets out of 
 Newgate this time, I will forfeit my hand ! — My hand, did 
 I say ? — I mean my head J" 
 
 "You had better keep him secure !" said Jonathan, 
 significantly; "for if he was to escape again, you would 
 most certainly lose your situation." 
 
 " I am not afraid," said the governor, complaisantly. 
 " He is so heavily ironed, that he cannot move at all, ex- 
 cept with the greatest difficulty; and then, I have hit 
 upon another device for keeping him safe. Trust me, he 
 shall not escape !" 
 
 " What is your device ? Tell it to me, in order that I 
 may judge of its excellenc;." 
 
 "Well, Mr. Wild, it involves a great deal of trouble 
 and inconvenience upon my part ; but then, it is such a 
 6erious matter, that I don't mind that." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " I have determined, no matter what shall stand in the 
 way, to personally pay a visit to Jack every two hours, 
 and ascertain for myself that all his fetters are secure. He 
 can't do much in two hours, and I should find it out 
 directly, so I take it he cannot possibly escape !" 
 
 " It is an excellent plan !" said Wild, in genuine ap- 
 proval. " And you deserve great credit for having de- 
 vised it! I have never heard of a better plan. It .is far 
 superior to trusting to fetters, bolts, or bars." 
 
 " I am glad it meets with your approval, Mr. Wild , 
 said the Governor — " very glad, because it convinces me of 
 the excellence of the scheme !" 
 
 "Mind you fully act up to your intentions. Let me 
 caution you against growing careless !" 
 
 " You have no need whatever to do so, I can assure 
 you !" 
 
 "Well, I do believe it would give you almost as much 
 pleasure as it would give me, if you could see him safely 
 tucked up at Tyburn." 
 
 " It would — it would !" 
 
 " I thought so, for he has brought you into trouble 
 enough already." 
 
 " Curse him ! yes, so he has." 
 
 " He has, and so let me caution you not to grow care- 
 less. You will only have this trouble for a few days, for I 
 will make it my business to see the Secretary of State 
 upon the matter, and will do all I can to get him executed 
 with as little delay as possible, and I have no doubt my 
 representations will produce full effect !" 
 
 " No doubt they will, and I trust you will carry out this 
 resolution, for I can tell you it is not a pleasant duty !" 
 
 " I know that, but it will not do for you to depute it to 
 anyone else !" 
 
 " Certainly not. There is no one that I can place suffi- 
 cient trust in, and the least neglect " 
 
 " Will be taken the utmost advantage of, for I know 
 Jack's character well. But come, fill up your glass ! We 
 will have just one more before we start!" 
 
 The brandy was poured out in no stinted quantity into 
 the two goblets, and drank in large draughts. 
 
 Both Jonathan Wild and Mr. Noakes had good reason to 
 feel perfectly satisfied with each other. 
 
 The thief-taker's brain was, however, too busy to allow 
 
 and contented expression upon their countenances, and he 
 marvelled greatly what could be the cause of it. 
 
 Seeing them come towards the door, he opened it, and 
 both passed out, arm-in-arm. 
 
 Tonks watched them walk past the prison wall, and turn 
 the corner into the Old Bailey. 
 
 " There's summat up !" he remarked, when he closed the 
 djor, after they had vanished from his sight. " There's 
 summat up I feel confident, but I'm blessed if I can think 
 what !" 
 
 The hour was a very early one yet, for the Governor's 
 interview with the thief-taker had not occupied a very 
 long time. 
 
 The streets were growing fuller of veliicles and pedes- 
 trians ; but most of the shops were closed, and the business 
 of the day had not begun. 
 
 The intelligence of Jack Sheppard's capture had conse- 
 quently not become generally known, indeed there were 
 at present few acquainted with it except the officials of 
 the prisons. 
 
 The news would soon spread, however, and upon turn- 
 ing the corner of the Old Bailey Mr. Noakes and Jonathan 
 saw that a small group of people had already collected 
 round the wicket of Newgate. 
 
 When he perceived this Mr. Noakes said : 
 " You see the news is getting wind, Mr. Wild !" 
 " Curse them, yes ! What do they want to stand there 
 for like a parcel of idiots ? I hate to have to pass through 
 a crowd !" 
 
 This was the truth, for Jonathan was very unpopular 
 among a very large class of persons, and he was sure to 
 hear something unpleasant, and perhaps be roughly 
 treated too. 
 
 Mr. Noakes noticed his vexation, and ho said : 
 " It rejoices mo to think that I am again in a position 
 to render you a service !" 
 " What service ?" 
 
 "I can enable you to reach the interior of Newgato 
 without passing through that crowd !" 
 "How?" 
 
 •'Easy enough! Look — here is the door leading into 
 my apartments in the prison — we can enter this way!" 
 
 Mr. Noakes paused as ho spoke at the private door lead- 
 ing into the Governor's house. 
 
 He rang the bell rather sharply, and Jonathan took care 
 to stand with his back to the people, for he did not even 
 wish to be recognised if ho could help it. 
 
 The Governor's summons for admission was very 
 quickly responded to, and then the pair entered. 
 
 Jonathan was exceedingly pleased to think he had 
 avoided the people; and now he said, in quite a brisk 
 tone of voice : 
 
 "Do not hesitate or dally any longer, Mr. Noakes. 
 Make your way to the cell as quickly as you can, for I 
 confess my impatience to see him knows no bound." 
 
 " You shall not be detained any longer than it takes us 
 to walk from here to the Castle. By-the-by, do you know 
 where the Castle is situated ?" 
 Jonathan reflected a moment. 
 " It is under the Red Boom, is it not ?" 
 " Yes, that is it." 
 " It is a very strong room, is it not, and one that has 
 
 him to remain long in one position. | not been used for a cell for a long time ? 
 
 He was the first to empty his glass, and he rose to his J " Yes, I believe so. At any rate, since I have been in 
 feet as a hint that he was ready, and waiting to make a i office here, it has never been used." 
 
 start " I thought not ; and the Bed Chamber above— that is a 
 
 strong room ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes, and the lock of that door has not been undone 
 for at least seven years." 
 
 " He ought to be safe then." 
 
 " You are right !" 
 
 Whilst this conversation took place, the speakers did 
 not remain still, but made their way towards the vestibule, 
 which place they reached just as the Governor uttered 
 the last words. 
 
 The turnkeys looked rather surprised when they saw him 
 appear, for they had no idea that he had returned, and 
 their astonishment increased when they saw Jonathan 
 Wild at his heels. 
 
 Without saying a word to anyone, Mr. Noakes went up 
 to the peg again, and took down the bunch of keys. 
 
 Wild kept close to him, following him everywhere. 
 
 The Governor passed through the first door, and closed it 
 after them. 
 
 The Governor took the hint, and swallowed down the 
 brandy at one gulp. 
 
 " I am at your service entirely, Mr. Wild — entirely at 
 your service !" 
 
 " Come, then, I am waiting to go. You hava no idea 
 how impatient I feel to satisfy myself that Jack Sheppaid 
 is really the helpless prisoner you 6tate him to be !" 
 
 " Follow me then, Mr. Wild, and you will find, 
 when you enter tho Castle, that I have told you nothing 
 but the bare truth !" 
 
 " I shall be so much the better pleased, then, and I shall 
 have no room to doubt." 
 
 Mr. Noakes opened the door, and held it by the handle 
 in order that the thief-taker might pass out before him. 
 
 Jonathan was pleased with this mark of respect, and he 
 descended the stairs with a feeling of greater satisfaction 
 about his heart than he had felt for some time past. 
 
 Tonks saw them descend, both wearing such an amiable 
 
 ■ ■ . U ■■ . .. . Jli. .UMWft 

 
 568 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 They then stood in a rather dark passage, and Jonathan 
 said : 
 
 " Shall you not Want a light ?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild," was the reply. " Follow me !" 
 
 " But the cell — is that light ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! There is a good-sized grated window, and 
 you can see everything distinctly enough." 
 
 " Eight ! That is all I desire." 
 
 Jonathan Wild now directed all his attention to following 
 in the steps of his companion, for the passages were for 
 the most part involved in darkness, and the thief-taker 
 was by no means so familiar with the intricacies of New- 
 gate as the Governor, and it behoved him to be careful. 
 
 The distance from the door of the vestibule to the door 
 of the Castle was not great, and they soon reached it. 
 
 Jonathan noted with satisfaction the ponderous fasten- 
 ings with which it was secured. 
 
 The Governor removed them, and then unlocked the 
 door. 
 
 Jonathan's breath came short and thick in the intensity 
 of his anxiety and curiosity to catch sight of the stripling 
 who had been the bane of his life — who had caused him 
 more trouble than all the rest of the world beside, and 
 who had thwarted him in his most daring schemes. 
 
 Wild did not wait for the Governor to open the door, 
 but as soon as he heard the snap of the lock, he rushed at 
 it, and pushed it violently back up its hinges. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLII. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD EXULTS OVER THE AGONY AND DESPAIR 
 OF HIS VICTIM. 
 
 Let us just take one passing glance at the proceedings of 
 Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Gloomy and wretched in the extreme, as we have 
 described in a former chapter, were his reflections in that 
 lonely and dreary prison cell. 
 
 How Jonathan Wild would have ex-ulted if he could 
 have seen him thus depressed with despair. 
 
 But Jack indulged in his emotions, and gave way to 
 these sad thoughts, simply because he believed himself in 
 utter solitude. 
 
 Had he fancied for a moment that any eye was fixed 
 upon him, he would have preserved a defiant demeanour 
 to the last, no matter how wretched the state of his mind 
 might really bo. 
 
 Gradually the faint light whiah struggled in through the 
 grated window of the cell increased in brightness, so that, 
 almost before he was aware of it, Jack found he could 6ee 
 all around him with tolerable distinctness. 
 
 To anyone coming into the cell from the open air, the 
 place would seem to be involved in almost total darkness, 
 but Jack's eyes had become habituated to the gloom. 
 
 Slight as this circumstance was, and dim as was the 
 light, yet it had a cheering effect upon Jack's saddened 
 spirits, after being so long in total darkness, as he had 
 been. 
 
 He recovered himself so much as to stand up without 
 the assistance of the wall, against which he had hitherto 
 been leaning. 
 
 He tried the length of the chain by which he was 
 attached to a staple driven in between two huge blocks of 
 stone. 
 
 It was short, indeed. 
 
 It was just long enough to enable him to reach a stone 
 bench that was fixed to the wall and that was all. 
 
 As soon as he noticed this bench, Jack resolved to sit 
 down upon it, for, as he stood, the weight of the fetters 
 distressed him sadly. 
 
 It was not without some difficulty, however, that Jack 
 carried out his intentions. 
 
 All his limbs ached, and the weight of the irons eaused 
 him great torture when he attempted to move. 
 
 When he at length sat down he experienced a great 
 feeling of relief, though he soon found that if he remained 
 long in one position his limbs got cramped. 
 
 Deep and bitter curses against his foe came from his lips 
 continually, as his eyes roamed constantly and restlessly 
 over the four walls of the cell. 
 
 He resolved to think no more of Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He made up his mind that he would' banish hor entirely 
 from his thoughts, and to do so the more effectually he 
 occupied himself with other reflections. 
 
 He thought of Blueskin, and speculated upon his fate, 
 which he could not help thinking was very doubtful. 
 
 All he knew about his comrade was, that he had only 
 had a very short start of his pursuers, who, as his own 
 case exemplified, were men who were determined to effect 
 their purpose. 
 
 Biaeskin might have escaped, and he might have been 
 taken prisoner ; about the latter, however, he had heard 
 nothing — not even the remotest allusion had fallen from 
 the lips of either the Bow Street runners or the Governor 
 of Newgate, and so he indulged himself with the hope 
 that he had succeeded in getting off. 
 
 But this was very uncertain. 
 
 Had Blueskin, however, been so fortunate as to elude 
 his foes, Jack doubted not that he would lose no time in 
 taking prompt and efficient measures to aid his own 
 escape. 
 
 When he reached this point in his reflection he paused 
 and sighed, for he no longer felt the powerful impulse 
 to urge him on that had previously existed. 
 
 Insensibly then his thoughts came round to the original 
 point from which they had started 
 
 It was in vain he resolved to forget the young girl 
 whose companion he had so long been. 
 
 Suddenly he was interrupted. 
 
 The sound of footsteps in the corridor without smote 
 upon his ears. 
 
 Nearer and nearer they came until at length they paused 
 opposite the cell door. 
 
 Curiously and expectantly he turned his eyes towards it, 
 much wondering who it was that had come to pay him 
 this early visit. 
 
 There was something unusual in it, for he had not been 
 an inmate of the cell above an hour. 
 
 With usual deliberation the fastenings on the outside 
 were withdrawn, and the door itself cautiously 
 
 To Jack's astonishment, no other than his old enemy, 
 Mr. Noakes, the Governor of the prison, came in. 
 
 Jack had raised his head to look, but now, when he 
 saw who it was, he covered his face with his hands again, 
 and bowed his head upon his knees. 
 
 He determined to take no notice, nor did he until tho 
 Governor approached and touched him. 
 
 Then he shrank back as he would from the contact of 
 seme loathsome or venomous reptile. 
 
 We have already stated the particulars of the visit, and 
 also made the reader acquainted with Mr. Noakes's motive 
 for making it. 
 
 When he left the cell, Jack again raised his head. 
 
 He had new fresh food for reflection. 
 
 He puzzled his brains to think of the motive which had 
 caused the Governor to make this visit. 
 
 But he could arrive at no conclusion. 
 
 He was thoroughly baffled and bewildered. 
 
 That there was something behind it he felt confident, 
 but what he was quite at a loss to think. 
 
 A thousand strange thoughts crowded into his brain, 
 but none of them furnished him with the least clue as to 
 the meaning of the Governor's conduct. 
 
 At length, after perplexing his brain for a long lime, fie* 
 gave up the attempt in despair. 
 
 Once more he assumed his old attitude, and his thoughts 
 reverted to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 He did so unconsciously, but the sad reflections which 
 filled his mind completely unnerved him. 
 
 But he was destined to be soon aroused from these 
 thoughts. 
 
 He was destined to be interrupted. 
 
 Again came the sound oJ footsteps, but this time they 
 reached his ears with greater distinctness than before. 
 
 He listened attentively. 
 
 Then he became aware that on the present occasion two 
 persons instead of one were approaching. 
 
 •'Can it be possible," muttered Jack to himself, "that I 
 atti going to have more visitors ? Oh dear no, such an 
 idea is ridiculous and impossible." 
 
 Nevertheless, although he uttered these words, he con- 
 tinued to listen to the approaching footsteps. 
 
 They paused opposite his door, and he heard the fasten- 
 ings removed. 
 
 What could be the meaning of this ? 
 
 Was it the intention of his foes not to allow him any 
 rest or repose whatever ?
 
 BLUESKIN i A BOMANOS. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD AND THE GOVERNOR OF NEWGATE EXULT OVER T1IK MISERY OF JACK SI1KI'?ARI>. 
 
 Was his solitude to be thus continually broken in 
 opon? 
 
 He gnashed hia teeth in impotent rage as he heard the 
 murmuring of voices outside and the rattling of the key 
 in the lock. 
 
 No sooner, however, was the bolt forced back than the 
 door was thrown open with such violence that it struck 
 against the wall. 
 
 A figure rushed in and paused before the prisoner. 
 
 It was a short, bulky figure. 
 
 Jack cast but one glance upon it. 
 
 That, however, was quite enough. 
 
 It was Jonathan Wild. 
 
 His first impulse was to spring to his feet and dutch his 
 persecutor by the throat, and hold him until he was 
 etrangled. 
 
 He did attempt to start up, but his fetters held him 
 down. 
 
 He had forgotten them, and the suddenness with which 
 be attempted to rise gave haa great pain. 
 No. 72. — Bluesexn. 
 
 A mocking laugh came from Jonathan Wild's lipo. 
 
 "Ha, ha! my pretty bird !" he said, "your wings ara 
 elipped, are they ? You find it rather difficult to fly now, 
 don't you ? Ha, ha ! And Jack Sheppard has really got 
 back to his old quarters at last !" 
 
 1 1 was not so much the words themselves tb at enraged Jack. 
 
 It was the thought of the person by whom they were 
 spoken, and the taunting tone in which they were uttered. 
 
 Jack was like a chained tiger, and Wild was well aware 
 that he was safely out of his reach. 
 
 The Governor of Newgate, too, having with superfluous 
 caution closed and secured the door, now advanced to- 
 wards his friend the thief-taker. 
 
 In his hand he held the huge bunch of keys which he 
 had used to open the doors. 
 
 Ho linked his arm in Jonathan Wild's, and the pair 
 stood gloating over their victim, who now seemed wholly 
 in their power. 
 
 What power could save him when he had not eve a the 
 spirit to try to save himself ? 
 
 ITo. 72.
 
 .570 
 
 BLUESKJN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 It was perhaps as well that the heavy chain checked 
 Jack when he iirst attempted to rise. 
 
 Nothing would have pleased Wild so much as to bo 
 able t» work him up to the pitch of rage. 
 
 Such, indeed, was one of his motives for visiting (she 
 cell. 
 
 Jack thought of this, and vesolved to baulk the thief- 
 taker and the Governor of their anticipated pleasure. 
 
 He assumed a moedy aspect, and behaved «^ though he 
 was totally unconscious of their presence there. 
 
 This was a course of action that was above all others 
 most exasperating to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He wanted to make his victim frantic. 
 
 But without he adopted some further means than he iiad 
 yet attempted, there remained no hope of him being able 
 to succeed in his object. 
 
 Jack remained immovable. 
 
 Jonathan then tried the effect of exasperating his victim 
 by talking at him. 
 
 He therefore addressed the Governor tauntingly, and 
 Jack could not avoid hearing every word. 
 
 His hot blood boiled, but still ho retained perfect com- 
 mand over himself. 
 
 Wild felt the necessity of changing his tactics. 
 
 He was resolved to carry out his intention, and the re- 
 sistance he met with only served to make him more deter- 
 mined. 
 
 He could not bear the thought of Jack obtaining the 
 victory over him. 
 
 "Why, Jack," he said, " can this indeed be you ? Ha, 
 ha ! Well, I must say that the air of Newgate has made a 
 remarkable alteration in you. Why, yon-do not seem the 
 same? Noakes, my friend!" he added, turning to the 
 Governor, " you have surely made some mistake ? This 
 contemptible, paltry, chicken-hearted fellow, who does not 
 Feem to have a word to say for himself, cannot possibly be 
 the celebrated Jack Sheppard ? I am suro thero is some 
 mistake." 
 
 Mr. Noakes shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 Jack took no more notice than if not a word had been 
 6poken. 
 
 "I am sorry this is not the right man, Noakes ?" con- 
 tinued Wild. " If it had been the celebrated Jack Shep- 
 pard, I have some information for him which he would 
 gladly give his ears to know — that he would." 
 
 Still Jack maintained command over himself, though his 
 heart beat wildly as Jonathan spoke. 
 
 He seemed to have some dim idea of what was about to 
 be said. 
 
 And yet ho scarcely believed it. 
 
 A word from him would have set his mind at rest, 
 but he resolved not to allow his old foe to obtain even 
 Buch a partial triumph over him as that. 
 
 So, although it cost him a tremendous effort, ho did not 
 move or speak, or betray in any way that ho had heard 
 what had just been said. 
 
 " I am sorry," said Wild, " to find the right Jack Shep- 
 pard i3 not here ; the news I had was so very important. " 
 
 " Iudei.d !" said the Governor, with an air of pretended 
 interest, for he fully understood what Wild meant. "Is it 
 of such very great importance ?" 
 
 " Well, it is to Jack Sheppard." 
 
 " Oh, iudeed ! What might bo tho nature of it ? w 
 
 " It can do no harm to say." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 Jonathan;Wild glanced at Jack again, and he had to grind 
 his teeth to keep down the curse which came to his lips 
 when he found he had not apparently succeeded in arous- 
 ing his victim in the least. 
 
 But he fancied he possessed the power to arouse him. 
 
 " The information I had to'give," he said, in lew guttural 
 tones, " concerned a young girl." 
 
 " A young girl ?" said the Governor, like an echo. 
 
 " Yes, a you-ng girl." 
 
 Oh, how Jack S heppard's heart bounded when h« heard 
 these words. 
 
 His brain seemed to fill with blood, and he started 
 slightly. 
 
 Tho movement — trifling as it was — did not escape tho 
 lynx-like glance of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 He knew that he had touched upon a tender point, and 
 if Jack withstood this proof, he should despair of achieving 
 his purpose. 
 
 " What young girl ? " asked the Governor. 
 
 " Well, one that you have no doubt heard of. and one in 
 whom Jack Sheppard feels the greatest possible interest, I 
 believe." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! then I presume you allude to " 
 
 The Governor purposely left his senteneo unfinished,in 
 order that his friend, the thief-taker, might complete it for 
 him. 
 
 " I allude to the young girl called Edgworth Bess." 
 
 Jonathan spoke tho werds as slowly as possible, and 
 with half-closed eyes gazed stedfastly upon Jack, as he 
 pronounced the name. 
 
 But ho was deceived. 
 
 Its pronunciation did not make that effect which he 
 thought it would. 
 
 The prisoner did not even start. 
 
 The reason was this. 
 
 With a species of intuition, Jack divined who was tho 
 young girl alluded to. 
 
 Therefore, bis first surprise over, he schooled himself to 
 bear with immobility the mention of her name. 
 
 Outwardly he succeeded, but his mind was in a terrible 
 state of agitation. 
 
 Tho reader will have no difficulty in believing this 
 when he remembers the tenor of Jack's re-flections. 
 
 Wild now was furious. 
 
 He resolved to try his prisoner to the utmost, and under 
 tho dominancy of this feeling, said things which in 
 cooler moments ho would have kept locked fast within his 
 bosom. 
 
 He felt inclined, however, to sacrifice a great deal rather 
 than avow himself defeated. 
 
 As for Jack, ho clenched his teeth tightly to keep in the 
 words which straggled to escape his lips, and could but 
 Jonathan Wild havo fully realized the state of torment that 
 his mind was then in, he would have left the cell at that 
 moment. 
 
 It will be seen, however, how ho committed himself, 
 and the important events that occurred in consequence. 
 
 CHAPTER CCOLIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WTLD'S COIUMUNICATTON PRODUCES AN UNEX- 
 PECTED EFFECT UPON JACK SHEPPARD. 
 
 "Jack Sheppard!" said Jonathan Wild, at length address- 
 ing himself to the prisoner direct, "Jack Sheppard, I 
 say! Look up!" 
 
 Jack obeyed. 
 
 Ho could not refrain from doing so. 
 
 He fixed his eyes keenly upon his tormentor. 
 
 But ho did not speak. 
 
 "Tfhat change can havo come over you, I know not!" 
 continued Wild, " and were it not that I had such good 
 acquaintance with your features as I have, I should really 
 feel disposed to entertain the doubt that some mistake had 
 been made, and that you were really not Jack Sheppard. 
 But your countenance is one which I could never mistake. 
 Listen to mo ! I have something to tell you." 
 
 Jonathan paused in tho hope that Jack would say some- 
 thing. 
 
 But he was disappointed. 
 
 Nevertheless, he continued : 
 
 " I have something to tell you about that girl — about 
 Edgworth Bess as she is called — though you know her 
 right name well enough. I havo something to say to you 
 about her — something that it concerns you to know — 
 something that you would give your right hand to ascer- 
 tain." 
 
 Poor Jack made no other reply than to clench his teeth 
 together with still greater tightness. 
 
 Not unnaturally, he came to the conclusion that the 
 news Wild had to tell him in some way concerned the 
 young nobleman with whom he bad been told Edgworth 
 Bess had left the house in Spring Gardens. 
 
 The readpr must not forget the terrible misapprehension 
 under which Jack laboured. 
 
 He knew nothing of tho conversation which had token 
 place in the snow-covered street between the young girl 
 and her deliverer. 
 
 Still less did ho surmise its termination. 
 
 Jack's thoughts upon this point had been terrible enough, 
 and now he imagined he was about to receive some hor- 
 rible confirmation of them.
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 £71 
 
 "Don't you want to hear what I have to tell you?" 
 asked "Wild. 
 
 Even this question met with no reply. 
 
 " You may think to aggravate me by keeping silent like 
 this," said the thief-taker, whose rage began rapidly to get 
 the master of him. " You may think to aggravate me, 
 but I tell you, once for all, you will not succeed! in doing 
 so. You would like to hear what I have got to tell you, 
 and it is just for this reason that I will make you know it. 
 You cannot refuse to listen. Although you vould fain 
 make me believe tho contrary, I can tell you ara eager to 
 hear me speak. Well, then, Jack Sheppard, you are a 
 prisoner — a hopeless prisoner! You have escaped from 
 Newgate twice, but do not think that you will perform 
 such an unparalleled feat a third time. No, no ! you are 
 safe ! The best of precautions have been taken, for the 
 Governor feels that his situation now depends upon his 
 being able to keep you safely." 
 
 " You won't escape this time," said the Governor, con- 
 fidently, as he thought of his capital scheme. " I will 
 answer for that !" 
 
 " If I thought," continued Wild, " that there was the 
 remotest possibility of your recovering your liberty, I 
 would bite my tonguo off rather than tell you what I am 
 about to say ! But you are safe, and so I do not fear ; 
 and it will serve to make your confinement more bitter 
 than it has already proved — and that is bitter enough, if I 
 may judge by the change in your demeanour. But I will 
 increase its bitterness tenfold." 
 
 No words could possibly portray the tone of malevo- 
 lence in which Wild spoke. 
 
 He seemed scarcely human. 
 
 Jack shuddered, for he felt that now he would no longer 
 have the relief of refusing to believe all that his heart 
 prompted. 
 
 " You may shudder, Jack, but you will shudder more 
 when I have spoken ! I tell you, that Edgworth Bess — 
 do you hear me ? — I tell you, Edgworth Bess, last night, 
 was .seen flying like a maniac through the streets of Y/est- 
 minster. What may have occurred to cause her madness, 
 I shall leave you to conjecture. She flew to tho river 
 bank, mounted upon a barge, and sprang into the Thames!" 
 
 Jack Sheppard uttered an inarticulate cry. 
 
 The intelligence which he just heard was so totally dif- 
 ferent to what he had expected, that it destroyed nis self- 
 command. 
 
 Perceiving the effect he had alraady produced, Jonathan 
 Wild proceeded with more candour than prudence, to re- 
 late what had further taken place. 
 
 By doing so, he hoped to make the prisoner doubly 
 wretched. 
 
 Little did he dream how different would be the effect 
 which his communication caused. 
 
 " She committed suicide, Jack — think of that ! What 
 should you imagine drove her to it? What is it that 
 drives young girls to make a mad and desperate plunge 
 into the muddy river — what is it Jack? Answer me 
 that ?" 
 
 A groan was Jonathan's only response. 
 
 This news overwhelmed Jack completely. 
 
 Edgworth Bess dead — drowned ? 
 
 The bare idea was horrible ! 
 
 Bo was totally unprepared to hear of her death! 
 
 Such a thing seemed impossible, for he had never con- 
 templated the occurrence of such an event. 
 
 And now, if Jonathan Wild had only possessed a little 
 prudence, he would have stopped hero and said no 
 more. 
 
 But, encouraged by the effect which he had already pro- 
 duced, he resolved to heighten it if possible. 
 
 He fancied, and not without a certain amount of proba- 
 bility, that what ho had further to tell Jack concerning 
 her, was far worse than death. 
 
 And in this ho was quite correct ; but, with a blindness 
 of which one could scarcely fancy him guilty, he omitted 
 to take into his calculations tho change which this com- 
 munication would make in Jack's whole deportment. 
 
 While ho thought Edgworth Bess was dead, he 
 would have had no incentive to struggle to avoid tho fate 
 which impended over him. 
 
 Bat if he knew she lived, he would fight to the last. 
 
 It may be that Wild thought of this, and relied upon 
 the security with which he would be kept a prisoner. 
 
 His revenge would feel better satisfiod if Jack was 
 
 taken to Tyburn fighting fruitlessly to tho last, than if he 
 went there inanimately, as some did. 
 
 But, be the cause what it will, Jonathan Wild went on. 
 
 " She is not dead, Jack !" he said. " She jumped into 
 the river with the intention of committing tho crime of 
 self-destruction, but she was not allowed to carry out her 
 purpose. She was rescued and taken to a certain place, 
 which there is no need for me to mention. She had imme- 
 diate medical attention, and has recovered. She is weak, 
 but a few days will set that all right One word more, 
 Jack, and then I have told you all. She is my pri- 
 soner! Do you understand that ? She is my prisoner, and 
 has no power to escape ! You are here, and cannot move 
 a finger in her behalf, and such a close hunt is being made 
 for Blueskin, that he will havo quite enough to do to save 
 himself from capture !" 
 
 Jack's eyes glittered. 
 
 While his foo spoke, he felt that that indomitablo energy, 
 which he fancied he had lost, return to him with redoubled 
 force. 
 
 No longer did tho fetters seem to weigh him down ! 
 
 He felt as though he could havo risen to his feet, with- 
 out being sensible of their weight. 
 
 But he remained immovable, waiting with undisguised 
 impatience and anxiety to what Wild had to say. 
 
 The thief-taker continued : 
 
 " You see, then, Jack, that I am fully master of tho 
 situation. You cannot stir ; Mr. Noakes will pledge his 
 head at any moment that you aro safe, and will not make 
 your escape. From you, therefore, I havo nothing further 
 to fear in the shape of interference. Then, as for Blue- 
 skin, ere long he will bo in the same delightful position as 
 yourself, for he cannot long elude the close search whieh 
 is being made after him. Then, you see, I have Edg- 
 worth Bess all to myself ! In a few days I am convinced 
 she will be of age, and then all will be well. Don't grind 
 your teeth, Jack ! Do that when I am gone. I will give 
 you further cause, if you like. I have told you so far, and, 
 as I feel I am talking, as it were, with a dead man, I don't 
 mind talking for a little more. Well, then, I havo got 
 possession of all the papers necessary to prove who Edg- 
 worth Bess really is. They aro in my house — salts ! 
 What do you think of that ? Jack, through your opposi- 
 tion, I have had a difficult game to play ; but I havo won 
 — won completely. You havo lost, Jack, and you will 
 have to pay tho penalty of losing !" 
 
 This last speech roused Jack completely. 
 
 He no longer felt like the same being. 
 
 He spoke. 
 
 " I thank you, Jonathan Wild," ho said, " I thank you 
 from the bottom of my heart for what you havo just told 
 me. Your words have driven away tho blackest despair 
 that ever filled my breast, and in its place you have put 
 hope. Jonathan Wild, the game is not yet won. You 
 may think you have the best cards in your hands ; but 
 wait — wait— until the game is quite played out, then we 
 shall see whether you have won or not!" 
 
 " That sounds like Jack Sheppard !" said tho thief- 
 taker, with a derisive grin. " I know you now, but I did 
 not recognise you before. Fancy what you like ! Cheat 
 yourself into the hope that you aro not defeated ! Con- 
 tinue to do so to the last, and then your disappointment 
 will bo all the greater. Ha, ha ! Jack, we shall see !" 
 
 " We shall !" returned Jack. 
 
 " We shall see you hanging on Tyburn Tree !" 
 
 " Don't make too sure of that ! I tell you that your 
 neck is destined for tho hangman's rope ; and, whether! 
 live to see it placed around it I care not, but I know tho 
 event will come sooner or later." 
 
 Jonathan Wild turned white with passion, and 
 trembled. 
 
 There had always been a disagreeable conviction in 
 his mind that, at somo day or other, ho would ha ve to pay 
 the just debt of his iniquities, and these words, spoken by 
 Jack in so confident a tone, made a deeper impressisn upon 
 him than he would have acknowledged even to himself. 
 
 Recovering himself with a palpable effort, he said : 
 
 " I heed not your empty words — your foolish predic- 
 tions !" 
 
 " You cannot heed them less than I do yours ! I tell 
 you again, the game is not yet played, and it yet remains 
 to be seen who will be the winner!" 
 
 " Pho — pho !" 
 
 " You may say ' pho — pho,' Jonathan Wild, but, in
 
 572 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCR. 
 
 veur heart, you acknowledge the truth of what I say. 
 Jonathan Wild, beware ei me, for the day will come 
 when I shall make you suffer dearly for all that you have 
 heaped upon my head !" 
 
 "This is glorious, Jack!" said Wild. "This 13 >.he 
 treat I promised myself when I came to pay you this visit, 
 though at one time I feared I should bo doomed to disap- 
 pointment. But in this, as in all things else, I have suc- 
 ceeded, though, for a time, circumstances went against me. 
 Ha, ha ! Jack, you are doomed ! Beat your wings against 
 the stone walls as much as you like— the more, the better 
 I shall be pleased ; you will break your wings, not the 
 stone walls ! And then, in a very little while, Jack, I 
 shall have — ha, ha ! — the greatest treat in the world — to 
 me the treat I have been waiting for so long and which 
 I never despaired of having. The treat of seeing you 
 swing at Tyburn !" 
 
 " Kail on, Jonathan Wild, I pay no heed to your present 
 words ; I think only of what you told me such a little 
 while ago— that is all I want to think of. Jonathan Wild, 
 I thank you heartily for your visit !" 
 
 " You think to escape, do you, my bawcock ? Go on 
 — try it ! I should feel more satisfied, than that if you 
 were to go to Tyburn unresistingly!" 
 
 " I shall say nothing as to my intentions, Jonathan 
 Wild." 
 
 "There is no need for you to do so; but come, Mr. 
 Noakes, I think we have been here long enough ! If you 
 recollect, I have some other important business to per- 
 form?" 
 
 " You have, Mr. Wild, and I humbly think that it is 
 quite time you set about it." 
 
 « it i s 1 — it is ! Jack, my boy ! I am going to a particu- 
 lar friend of mine — a very particular friend. He fills the 
 very important post of Secretary of State for the Home 
 Department. Ha, ha! How funny — isn't it?" 
 
 "If he treats you as you deserve he will have you 
 kicked out of his house by his footman !" 
 
 " Ha, ha ! He knows better than that ! I am going to 
 see him on your account, Jack — entirely on your account. 
 Isn't that land of me ? I am going to see whether your 
 execution cannot take place with the least possible de- 
 lay. I am going to tiy whether the warrant against you 
 — which is now lodged in Mr. Noakes's possession, and has 
 been ever since your former escape — will Dot answer 
 without the delay of drawing up a fresh one. Ha, ha! I'm 
 off, Jack ! I'm off ! Good bye ! Keep your spirits up ! 
 The Secretary of State will listen to my arguments, I 
 know. Ha, ha ! Good bye, Jack, for the present ! I'll 
 come back and let you know how I get on !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLIV. 
 
 JACK SUKITARD IS PUZZLED BY THE GOVERNOR'S FREQUENT 
 VISITS TO HIS CELL. 
 
 While Jonathan Wild was giving utterance to this 
 highly-facetious speech, his friend, the Governor, opened 
 the cell door. 
 
 The thief-taker followed him, and spoke the last words 
 as he was in the act of crossing the threshold. 
 
 Mr. Noakes slammed the door and carefully fastened it. 
 
 With burning eyes Jack watched their every move- 
 ment, and when his foes had fairly disappeared, he, 
 despite the weight of his fetters, sprang suddenly to his 
 feet. 
 
 He drew himself up to his full height and shook his 
 fist in a menacing manner at the door. 
 
 " I shall live to have my revenge upon you both !" he 
 said. " I shall live to have my revenge upon you both ! 
 i ou may think that the hour of your triumph is close at 
 hand, but you are deceived — deceived ! Something with- 
 in my bosom tells me that I shall be revenged upon you 
 all !" 
 
 After this the gust of his passion grew less, and he sank 
 back upon his seat. 
 
 But the terrible dejection which we have described as 
 being produced by his sad thoughts, no longer remained. 
 
 He held his head up bravely and defiantly. 
 
 "Jonathan Wild!" he said at length, in a muttering 
 voice, " I thank you for this visit. You little dream of the 
 effect which your words have had upon me ! Doubtless 
 you calculate upon plunging me still deeper in despair, 
 rut you have failed — failed utterly and completely. I feel 
 
 that all my old energy has come back to me ! I will escape 
 — escape ! 
 
 He glanced around him as he spoke. 
 
 The blank stone walls which seemed bo strong and 
 massive, were enough to crush out the least hope of 
 escape. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard was not dismayed by their appear- 
 ance. 
 
 He had proved more than once that it was quite possible 
 to break out of Newgate — and why should he not suc- 
 ceed this time ? 
 
 " I will be free," he continued, " and that before I am 
 many hours older ! H I remain here, with my brain in 
 sucn a whirl as it is now, I 6hall assuredly go mad ! 
 What can be the meaning of Jonathan Wild's communi- 
 cation, is it true or false ? True, I think ! Good heavens ! 
 His words prove how much injustice I have done the 
 poor girl ! How could I have suspected her of such an 
 act so contrary to her nature ? But this attempt at 
 suicide ! What am I to think of it ? Oh, my poor brain ! 
 I feel as if I was going mad !" 
 
 The unhappy prisoner clasped his head tightly with 
 his hands as he spoke. 
 
 Of a truth were his reflections maddening and perplex- 
 ing to a degree. 
 
 By exercising many efforts, however, he grew calmer. 
 
 "Something terrible must have happened to her," he 
 continued, " or she would not have taken that leap into 
 the river ! And then to think that after she had done so, 
 6he should fall into the power of the villanous thief- 
 taker ! And I here — caged, unable to raise a finger in her 
 behalf ! But this state of things shall not continue long 
 — I am determined !" 
 
 He paused again, for a thought had struck him. 
 
 He found he had hit upon a means by which his libera- 
 tion could be effected. 
 
 "Blueskin!" he said, pursuing this fresh chain of 
 thought. " I want Blueskin's help, but I sadly fear he is 
 powerless to assist me ! Now that I am as he thinks se- 
 cure, Wild will devote all his energies to his capture, 
 and Blueskin will have much trouble to escape him. 
 Moreover he will be anxious about me, for he knows my 
 whereabouts. He will doubtless try to liberate me, and 
 that will give Jonathan a better chance of success ! 
 I must rely upon myself. Much as I should like to have 
 his assistance — invaluable as it would be to me — I must 
 not think of it. I must depend entirely upon my own 
 exertions — perhaps that will be better. Let me think — 
 let mo think !" 
 
 Once more did Jack Sheppard allow his head to rest 
 between his hands, but it was with a far different feeling. 
 
 He was now ^at work to follow out the thought whieh 
 at first occurred to him. 
 
 But it seemed nothing short of madness for a youth, 
 a stripling, like he was, burdened with fetters that weighed 
 twice as much as he did, and which had been riveted 
 upon him with more than usual care ! 
 
 Then the cell, certainly the strongest in the whole 
 prison of Newgate. 
 
 How could he hope, unprovided with tools, as he was, 
 first to free himself from the galling fetters, and then 
 to force his way out of that strong cell. 
 
 But even when he had done this, how many and formid- 
 able obstacles intervened between him and freedom. 
 
 Such obstacles which would appal the stoutest heart 
 by their very insurmountableness. 
 
 Had Jack endeavoured to look at all his difficulties at 
 once, he would doubtless have been overwhelmed by their 
 magnitude. 
 
 As it was, however, he looked at them one at a time, 
 and scarcely even so, for he troubled himself about little 
 more than how to get rid of his fetters. 
 
 When he had done this he thought there would be time 
 enough to think about the next thing to be done. 
 
 How to get out of his fetters was a most serious pro- 
 blem, and while ho still sat pondering over its solution, he 
 was again aroused by hearing the fastenings of his door 
 undone. 
 
 He looked up, and an exclamation of anger cams from 
 his lips. 
 
 This perpetual interruption vexed him exceedingly. 
 
 He much wondered who it was that was coming now. 
 
 A wild hope that it might be Blueskin sprang into his 
 mind, but he dismissed it instantly.
 
 blueskin: a romance 
 
 573 
 
 To his chagrin, and to his astonishment too, the Gover- 
 nor of Newgate appeared. 
 He came just inside the cell, and looking at Jack, said : 
 " Oh, it's all right !" and then departed. 
 Of course the reader will be able to comprehend the 
 meaning of this visit. 
 
 To them it will be simple enough, but not so to Jack. 
 He sat gazing at the door, after the Governor had dis- 
 appeared, for some moments in silence. 
 He was perplexed. 
 
 " What's all right ?" he asked, at length. 
 He found himself unablo to reply, though he cudgeled 
 his brains well for an answer. 
 
 " There's something up !" he remarked. " I am sure 
 there is, but what, puzzles me to tell ? Old Noakes has 
 got some scheme into his head. I wonder what it 
 means ? 
 
 With all his wondering, however, Jack could not get 
 any nearer to a solution of his difficulty. 
 
 He now recollected that he had received no less than 
 three visits, and yet he had not been an inmate of the 
 cell for more than six hours. 
 This seemed strange. 
 
 There was some deep motive in this excessive atten- 
 tion, he was convinced of that, but with all his cleverness 
 he could not divine it. 
 
 But he now found it quite impossible to concentrate his 
 thoughts upon how he should get out of his fetters as he 
 had before. 
 
 Do what he would, his thoughts continually reverted to 
 Mr. Noakes's repeated visits, and speculations as to the 
 cause of them. 
 In this manner about two more hours passed. 
 It will bo remembered that Mr. Noakes made up his 
 mind to visit his prisoner every two hours without fail. 
 At the end of that time, therefore, he came. 
 But he began to find this a terrible trouble, and already 
 felt almost inclined to depute the service to one of his 
 subordinates. 
 
 Upon the occasion of this fourth visit, he went mutter- 
 ing and cursingall the way from the vestibule to the door 
 of the cell. 
 
 He opened the door, as he had done before, and just 
 peeped in. 
 
 He saw Jack still sitting in the same position. 
 As on the former occasion, the Governor said, " All 
 right !" and closed the door. 
 
 It would be hard to say which feeling was uppermost in 
 Jack's mind, vexation or curiosity. 
 
 Vexation at being thus continually interrupted, and 
 curiosity to know why the Governor took the trouble to 
 poke his head into the cell at such frequent intervals. 
 
 " I have it !" he cried, at length, " I am sure 1 under- 
 stand it now ! How was it I did not think of it before ? 
 Of course that must be it — the Governor said he would 
 take care I did not escape, and this is the notable scheme 
 he has hit upon to prevent me. He will come here as 
 often as he can to look at me, so that I should not have a 
 chance to d«> so much between the times when he comes ! 
 That is it ! That is the scheme ! It is a good one, I con- 
 fess, but I will set to work and try to get the better of 
 him, and I doubt not I shall succeed." 
 
 Although Jack spoke thus confidently, he was, never- 
 theless, rather uneasy. 
 
 He saw that, if Mr. Noakes continued to carry out his 
 intention, these frequent visits would prevent hiin doiD^ 
 anything without being discovered. 
 
 Then to prevent these visits being paid, was certainly 
 not in Jack's power. 
 
 He could not by any possibility exercise the least control 
 over the Governor's actions. 
 
 In these visits, however, Jack fancied he could detect 
 the cunning hand of the thief-taker, but here he was in 
 error. 
 
 It disconcerted him more and more as he continued to 
 think upon it. 
 
 He could not help owning that this continual super- 
 vision was a more effectual means of keeping him a pri- 
 soner than the strongest cells and the heaviest fetters. 
 What was to be done ? 
 How was he to escape ? 
 
 If he made any attempt at freedom, before he had been 
 at work two hours he would be detected. 
 Then, to hope to be able to escape altogether from New- 
 
 gate in such a short space of time as that was a feat that 
 even Jack Sheppard was compelled to admit was impos- 
 sible. 
 
 Yet these hindrances and impedim«nts, far from abasing 
 his spirits, had a contrary effect. 
 
 He felt that there was a trial of strength between himself 
 and the Governor and Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Which would be the victor ? 
 
 He resolved not to submit without a struggle, and 
 having com© to this determination, he returned to his old 
 idea and intention — namely, to free himself from hi3 
 fetters. 
 
 They weighed upon his limbs, and appeared to weigh 
 down his spirits. 
 
 Besides, ere long the night would come, and the thought 
 of remaining all those hours with the fetters upon him was 
 torture. 
 
 But in what way was he to free himself from them. 
 
 The turnkeys had taken care not to leave a singlo 
 article of any description in his pockets. 
 
 He had no tools to effect his purpose save his hands, and 
 what assistance would they be to him in a case like this. 
 
 None. 
 
 He could not hope to again perform the feat of drawing 
 the handcuffs off his wrists, for those he now had on fitted 
 so tightly as almost to stop the circulation of the blood. 
 
 The daylight was fading, and Jack anxiously and 
 despairingly glanced round his cell in the vague expecta- 
 tion of being able to see something that would be of ser- 
 vice to him. 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 Nothing but the stone walls met his eager and inquiring 
 glance. 
 
 Suddenly, his quick, keen eye rested upon a small 
 object. 
 
 So small was it that it was no wonder ho had not seen it 
 before. 
 
 The wonder was that he had seen it at all. 
 
 Sticking in the wall not very far from where he sat was 
 a nail. 
 
 Yes — a nail. 
 
 It was a small one, and driven into the mortar between 
 the stones until it was almost buried. 
 
 The head and a very small portion of the shank alone 
 remained in sight. 
 
 How Jack's heart bounded when he saw that nail. 
 
 It would answer the very purpose he required. 
 
 Could he reach it ? 
 
 He was almost afraid to try, lest it should prove to be 
 out of his reach. 
 
 At length he rose to his feet, and crept along towards 
 the nail. 
 
 As he feared, he could not reach it. 
 
 He made several vain attempts. 
 
 It was almost within reach of his hand, but not quite. 
 
 Two inches more would have enabled him to touch it ; 
 but his chain was unelastic — it would not stretch. 
 
 Still he tugged and tried, but all in vain. 
 
 His fingers were so close to the nail that they almost 
 touched it, but being, as it was, just out of his reach, it 
 might as well have been on the opposite side of the cell, or 
 in any other inaccessible place. 
 
 No words can express the state of Jack's mind at this 
 disappointment. 
 
 The very thing that he required — the article that would 
 hf.T'e enabled him, no doubt, to pick the lock of his fetters 
 was there — in his sight, but out of his reach. 
 
 Oh, how he tugged at the chain, straining himself use- 
 lessly and vainly ! It would not yield in the least. 
 
 He was thus engaged when he heard footsteps again 
 approaching his cell, and, with an ejaculation of anger and 
 vexation he resumed his former attitude. 
 
 CHAPTEK UOOLV. 
 
 twiV'OKTII BESS RESOLVES TO ESCAPE FROM THE rUBLIC- 
 1IOUSE ON THE RIVER-SIDE. 
 
 The perilous position of Jack Sheppard has caused us to 
 devote the whole cf our attention to a relation of his 
 various proceedings, and, as a matter of course, while 
 doing so, we have neglected ethers in whom it in hoped 
 the reader feels an almost equal interest. 
 It is necessary now, however, in order that sr« needing
 
 574 
 
 BLTTESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 events may be properly understood, that we should leave 
 Jack Sheppard for a short time in his dungeon, while wo 
 take a glance at Edgworth Bess. 
 
 Poor girl, it seemed as though she was destined to know 
 no friends. 
 
 Even the landlady of the Prince of Wales inn was her 
 enemy, for was she not devoted to the interests of Jona- 
 than Wild ? 
 
 Whether she served him voluntarily or compulsorily 
 mattered little, since the ultimate result was just the 
 same. 
 
 She had everything to fear from this woman. 
 
 There was no hope that she would bo able to pursuade 
 her to assist her to escape from her relentless persecutor. 
 
 Mrs. Pickman would have turned a deaf car to all such 
 entreaties. n» 
 
 And yet one good thing followed. 
 
 Had it not been for the fear she entertained of the 
 villanous thief-taker, Edgworth Bess would not have re- 
 ceived the attention sho now did. 
 
 Sho might even have been maltreated. 
 
 Now, it was the policy of the landlady to sgo that she 
 had the best of attendance, and, indeed, that everything 
 was done that was in any way calculated to restore her to 
 a better state of health. 
 
 The surgeon who had been called in understood in a 
 moment the nature of her malady, and prescribed fur her 
 accordingly. 
 
 She rapidly got better. 
 
 Her brain was at first in a state of sad confusion. 
 
 A long time elapsed before she was able to recollect the 
 last ovent which had happened to her. 
 
 Her remembrance was baffled. 
 
 By starting from one point, howovor, — her escape from 
 the house in Spring Gardens — sho was able to call to mind 
 one after another, the different incidents which had befallen 
 her until sho arrived at the period when the forewoman at 
 the shroudmaker's proclaimed who she was, and stated, in 
 opprobrious terms, the nature of her connection with 
 Jack Slieppard. 
 
 Sho had an indistinct recollection of flying from that 
 place at headlong speed, but after that came a blank, and, 
 in spite of all her efforts, she could not fill it up. 
 
 Tho next thing sho recollected, after her flight, was 
 waking up and finding herself in bed. 
 
 But where ? 
 
 In what house was sho ? 
 
 How had she been brought there ? — and when ? 
 
 These, and a thousand other important and unanswer- 
 able questions which would naturally suggest themselves, 
 perplexed her brain, until, in sheer despair, she was forced 
 to give up the attempt. 
 
 It was not long after this that she heard the door of her 
 bed-chamber unlocked. 
 
 This alone was an unpleasant circumstance, siDce it 
 showed her that she was a priseuGr. 
 
 For what reason had she been locked in that room. 
 
 Her heart turned as cold as ice within her bosom as she 
 thought that she had at length been so unfortunate as to 
 fall into the power of the villanous thief-taker. 
 
 This impression came so strongly upon her as almost to 
 amount to conviction. 
 
 Sho almost fainted. 
 
 The approach of someone to her bedside aroused 
 her. 
 
 She recovered herself, and looked to see who it was, 
 dreading all tho time that her eyes would fall upon the 
 hideous countenance of the thief-taker. 
 
 But she was mistaken, and a sigh of relief camo from her 
 lips when sho saw that the person who had entered was 
 a female. 
 
 But whatever satisfaction she might have felt quickly 
 disappeared when, at a second glauce, sho noted t'v> ex- 
 pression of this woman's countenance. 
 
 It was Mrs. Pickman, the landlady. 
 
 Edgworth Bess had had many bitter lessons of expe- 
 rience, and new she could tell at a glance that this woman 
 was an enemy. 
 
 It was proclaimed by every feature in her physiognomy. 
 
 The poor hoiress sighed. 
 
 " Oh ! you have woke up at last, have yon?" said Mrs. 
 Pickman, as soon as Edgworth Bess turned her eyes full 
 upon her — "you have woke up? And a nice pretty 
 baggage you must be to come into a decent woman's 
 
 house as you have come into mine ! I should be ashamed 
 of myself, that I should !" 
 
 Edgworth Bess looked up not a little surprised at this 
 harangue. 
 
 She was at a loss to understand it, and she gazed with a 
 vacant expression into Mrs. Pickman's face. 
 
 That individual now had time to come to her senses. 
 
 In speaking as she had, she had only obeyed the instincts 
 of her own evil heart, but diroctly she had spoken sho was 
 alarmed for tho consequences of what she had said. 
 
 She had a most exaggerated idea of tho powers of Jona- 
 than Wild. 
 
 Sho believed him to have more than human power, and 
 she eould not tell at what moment ho might unexpectedly 
 present himself at her elbow. 
 
 Her contrition for what she had said was only brought 
 about by the fear that her words might, by some unlucky 
 possibility, be overheard by the thief-taker. 
 
 Edgworth Bess, perceiving her sudden silence, and 
 being quite at a loss to account for it, asked her a multi- 
 tude of questions respecting herself, and entreated her to 
 give some explanation of tho words she had first uttered. 
 
 But Mi's. Pickman was now upon her guard, and sho 
 replied to all by maintaining a resolute silence. 
 
 Seeing, indeed, that her prisoner was quite safe, and 
 much better, sho turned to leave the room, since she had 
 only come to satisfy herself that she had not escaped. 
 
 Sho was pleased to discover the signs of such a marked 
 improvement, because it promised that she would be all 
 the sooner relieved of her charge. 
 
 Glad indeed would she bo when Jonathan Wild removed 
 her to his own keeping. 
 
 She could scarcely sleep at night now for thinking of 
 tho penalty she would incur should her prisoner dis- 
 appear. 
 
 Now that she was conscious, extra vigilance would be 
 required. 
 
 And so, with an uneasy mind, sho descended the stairs, 
 and when sho entered the bar sho solaced herself with a 
 drop of something to drive away caro. 
 
 As soon as she had left the room, Edgworth Bess sat up 
 in bed. 
 
 She heard the landlady lock tho door after her, and 
 descend the stairs with a deliberate tread. 
 
 Tho poor girl was much better. 
 
 The rest she had had, the medicine and food which had 
 been given her, had all conspired in a most beneficial 
 manner. 
 
 She felt herself stronger and better than she had been 
 for a long time past, and naturally enough tho first idea 
 that was suggested to her mind was to attempt to escape 
 from her prison, for such that room, to all intents and 
 purposes, really was. 
 
 The impression that sho was again in Jonathan Wild's 
 power grew stronger and stronger. 
 
 A voice seemed to ring in her ears and urge her to 
 escape — to escape while yet she had an opportunity of 
 doing so. 
 
 A few minutes were passed in earnest deliberation, and 
 then the poor girl arose. 
 
 Attiring herself quickly, sho crept towards the window. 
 
 It was twilight, but darkness was fast creeping over all 
 things. 
 
 Surely, sho thought, all things are propitious for the 
 attempt. 
 
 She resolved, however, not to try to escape until night 
 had fairly come. 
 
 She had not long to wait; and the time that elapsed, 
 she occupisd in noting the position of the different objeets 
 that she could see. 
 
 Tho window of tha room in which sho was confined 
 overlooked the Thames. 
 
 Peneath her was a small yard, filled with litter and 
 rubbish of every possible description. 
 
 This yard was divided by the muddy bank of tho river 
 by a low wall. 
 
 This was an obstacle which sho was quite certain sho 
 should be able to surmount, and when that was done, sho 
 thought further flight would be comparatively easy. 
 
 The thing would bo to reach tho yard. 
 
 In this feat sho did not perceive anything reiy difficult. 
 
 Tho room was on tho first floor, and the hsight of the 
 chamber beneath was not great. 
 
 If 6he could get through the window and lower herself
 
 BLUESKIN: A. BOMANeB. 
 
 575 
 
 down until she hung by the grasp of her fingers upon tho 
 Bill, she thought she could drop the remainder of the dis- 
 tance, without running the risk of doing herself tho 
 slightest injury. 
 
 A dozen steps would take her to the wall, and then she 
 would be free. 
 
 This prospect was such a delightful one that sho could 
 scarcely control her impatience sufficiently to wait for 
 darkness to come. 
 
 With a great effort she did so, and kept continually 
 counting the chances she had of success. 
 
 The more sho thought upon tho matter, the more 
 feasible did the whole scheme seem. 
 
 At last the wished-for darkness came. 
 
 It was increased by a thick, disagreeable fog, which 
 arose from the surface of the river, and spread quickly 
 over the land that adjoined its banks. 
 
 All this inspired the poor girl with additional hope that 
 she should be able to make her escape. 
 
 She resolved to make the attempt without further 
 delay. 
 
 She had already ascertained that she could throw the 
 window open noiselessly, and she did so. 
 
 A chill, raw, damp air rushed into the apartment. 
 
 She shivered as she felt its influence. 
 
 Nerving herself to the task which lay before her, sho 
 mounted on to the window-sill, and gradually lowered 
 herself through the casement until she hung out the full 
 length of her arms. 
 
 Then sho let go her hold. 
 
 She had a distance of less than two feet to fall, conse- 
 quently she reached the ground unhurt. 
 
 Scarcely had she done so when sho was startled by the 
 sudden opening of a door somewhere elose at hand. 
 
 Paralysed with fear, and doubting not that her attempt 
 at escape had already been discovered, she sank down on 
 to the 6tones, with which the yard was paved, unable to 
 move or speak. 
 
 A stream of bright light issued from the open door, and 
 the form ef a man appeared at it. 
 
 This Bess saw as she crouched upon tho ground. 
 
 The door was closed again with considerable violence, 
 and sho could hear the footsteps of the man approaching 
 the spot upon which she lay. 
 
 Oh, how she wished for tho power to rise and fly, and 
 attempt at least to make her escape. 
 
 But she could not. 
 
 Her body was no longer obedient to her will — she was 
 like oae under the dominion of some fascinating spell. 
 
 It was fortunate that she did not move. 
 
 The man passed her. 
 
 He did not see her, evidently, nor was ho on tho look 
 out for her. 
 
 "With straining eyes Bess watched his retreating figure. 
 
 As he receded, the fog made his form appear to grow to 
 giant-like proportions, until at length ho faded away 
 altogether. 
 
 The next sound she heard wa9 the opening of a door, 
 and the sound came from tho direction the man had 
 taken. 
 
 He had goae towards the low wall whieh Edgworth 
 Bess had noticed, and over whieh she thought to climb. 
 
 It seemed as though she would be spared tho necessity 
 of doing this. 
 
 Revived by this prospect, and encouraged by tho ease 
 with which she had avoided this first danger, she slowly 
 rose, and with cautious movements, followed, as well as 
 she was able in the footsteps of the man. 
 
 In a little while she reached the wall, and here sho 
 paused a little while to listen. 
 
 All was still. 
 
 Tho man had evidently taken his departure. 
 
 All that remained for her to do was to find the door 
 through which he had unquestionably gono. 
 
 She commenced her search. 
 
 She was unabla to find what she sought. 
 
 Just as she was about to give up the attempt in despair, 
 her hand encountered woodwork. 
 
 She could tell by the difference of the feel. 
 
 The next moment she touched the latch. 
 
 Her heart beat so violently that she could not raise it, 
 so fearful was sho that sho should find it otherwiso 
 secured. 
 
 At length she found strength. 
 
 She raised tho lateh easily enough, and pressed against 
 the door. 
 
 A sigh of disappointment, almost a groan, came from 
 her lips. 
 
 It was as immovable as a rock. 
 
 Her worst foars were realised. 
 
 Unconsciously, as sho released the latch, sho pulled the 
 door towards her. 
 
 To her astonishment and delight it gave way. 
 
 The door opened inwardly, and not outwardly, and she 
 ought to have pulled, not pushed. 
 
 The suddenness with which sho made this discovery, 
 almost overcame her. 
 
 It was too much happiness. 
 
 Summoning once more her fleeting spirits and failing 
 strength, she pushed the door further open. 
 
 Again she listened. 
 
 Keassured by the silence which still prevailed, she 
 glided out into tho darkness like a spirit. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLVI. 
 
 EDGWOHTH BESS IS" CAPTURED AND TAKEN TO WILD'S 
 HOUSE TN NEWGATE STREET. 
 
 So fur all was well, and drawing the brightest auguries 
 from the unhoped-for success which had attended upon 
 her efforts, the poor girl drew her breath in short flutter- 
 ing gasps, and bounded forward with all the speed she 
 could make. 
 
 She was free, she told herself — free — free ! Free from 
 that dreadful house, where she was wholly in Wild's 
 power. 
 
 The mist baffled her, but she hastened onward. 
 
 Suddenly she started, and uttered a faint scream. 
 
 A gruff voice had cried out for hor to stop. 
 
 Instead, however, of obeying this unwelcome mandate, 
 she hastened on. 
 
 But despair was about her heart. 
 
 She could hear rapid footsteps behind her, and then she 
 felt someone grasp her tightly. 
 
 "Quietly, my beauty!" he said. "Quietly — quietly! 
 Don't go eo fasti" 
 
 The terrified girl struggled frantically to get free. 
 
 In vain. 
 
 The grasp in which she was held was one that would 
 have required ten times her strength to shake off. 
 
 She was ready to swoon with terror. 
 
 Who oould have intercepted her, and what could hav<* 
 been the motive of the interception. 
 
 It was not Jonathan Wild who had seized her, nor was 
 Jonathan Wild the man who had pursued her, and who 
 now just arrived upon the scene. 
 
 She could tell this because she had heard both men 
 speak, and she was too familiar with the thief-taker's 
 voice to make any mistake. 
 
 What could it mean, then ? 
 
 Again she struggled to release herself. 
 
 At the same time she spoke : 
 
 "Let mo go!" sho said. " Let me go! I have done 
 you no harm — why should you interrupt me ? Let me 
 go!" 
 
 "Not if we know it — eh, Bob?" replied tho man who 
 held her, and addressing his companion. 
 
 "Certainly not! Just tell the young gal it's no good 
 making a rumpus. H she will give in quietly, wo won't 
 hurt her!" 
 
 " In course not. What do we want to hurt the chicken 
 for? But we must do our dooty !" 
 
 " Come, young woman, it's no good for you to go for to 
 resist. — not no good, at all ! So come along with us !" 
 
 " Where — where ?" 
 
 " Don't speak so loud, miss. Leastways, it don't much 
 matter, for there's no one about to hear you, to my cGrtain 
 knowledge. As to where we are going to take you, that's 
 our business !" 
 
 "Just so[" said the other. "Don't let's have any more 
 palavering! Call Jack, and wo will bo off!" 
 
 Tho man addressed, whistled sharply, and another maa 
 made his appearance. 
 
 " Game's up !" said one, as soon as he arrived. " We've 
 got to go back, now !" 
 
 " And a good job, too., for I was getting infernally tired 
 of this sort of work ! I'm ready !"
 
 ■r — m- .. rill i«irjaag»M 
 
 f 57G 
 
 BLDESKW: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Edgworth Bess listened to all this while in a state which 
 is aptly described by the phrase more dead than alive. 
 
 She was stupefied at this sudden reverse. 
 
 She had only just before been congratulating herself 
 upon her freedom, and now she found herself ten times 
 more a prisoner than before, for now there was nc hope 
 of escape. 
 
 So overcome was she, that she had eo power to re- 
 sist 
 
 Nor could she command her voice enough to shriek out 
 for assistance, though in that lonely spot upon the river's 
 bank, her cries would probably have been unheard, and 
 certainly unheeded. 
 
 Kesistlessly, then, the men led her forward in the 
 direction which they had desired her to take. 
 
 Then one called out something, but what the poor girl 
 did not know. 
 
 Her conductors paused, and the rumbling of wheels 
 followed. 
 
 The men had hailed a hackney-coach, and it now drew 
 up close to where they stood. 
 
 Still passive, Edgworth Bess was lifted into the 
 vehicle. 
 
 Two of the men entered with her, the other one got 
 on to the box along with the jarvey, and directed him 
 where to drive. 
 
 Edgworth Bess was completely overcome by what had 
 just taken place, and, as might naturally be expected, she 
 felt the effects still more in consequence of the reaction 
 which set in after her recent exertions. 
 
 She had very greatly overtaxed her strength, and now 
 she was suffering for it. 
 
 Without, then, being precisely in an insensible state, she 
 eat in the hackney-coach opposite to the two men. 
 
 She had a dim consciousness that they were before her, 
 and that she was sitting in some vehicle which was in 
 motion. 
 
 In this dreamy state she remained during the greater 
 part of the journey. 
 
 The reader long ere this will have understood the mean- 
 ing of her capture, and also by whom it was effected. 
 
 They cannot have forgotten the three janizaries who 
 Jonathan had summoned to his side after ho left the Prince 
 of Wales Inn. 
 
 His instructions to them were simple enough. 
 
 They were to take their duty in turns. 
 
 Thus two men were always to be hovering about the 
 exterior of the inn, and one always within it. 
 
 All were to look after Edgworth Bess, of whose personal 
 appearance the bulldogs had already been furnished with 
 a description. 
 
 She had been seen to emerge from the door in the wall 
 by one of them, and his cries at onca attracted the atten- 
 tion of the other on duty outside, who captured Edgworth 
 Bess by throwing his arms around her, in the manner we 
 have recorded. 
 
 The third, who was summoned by the whistle, came 
 out of the house where he had been sitting, the whistle 
 being an agreed upon signal for him to do so. 
 
 Jonathan. had instructed them, in the event of their cap- 
 turing Edgworth Bess in the act of making her escape, to 
 take her direct to his house in Newgate Street with the 
 least possible delay. 
 
 The men obeyed his orders implicitly, they had too 
 much dread of the consequences of disobedience to at- 
 tempt it. 
 
 Towards the thief-taker's residence the hackney-coach 
 was rumbling at as swift a rate as the poor anatomies 
 of horses that were harnessed to it could be induced to 
 make. 
 
 Gradually, however, Edgworth Bess felt herself recover- 
 ing, both bodily and mentally, from the shock which she 
 had received. 
 
 She resolved to make at least an attempt to escape while 
 there yet seemed a faint chance of success. 
 
 She surmised correctly enough that slio was being taken 
 to Wild's house in Newgate Street, and once within the 
 walls of that gloomy habitation, she knew it would be 
 impossible to escape unaided. St 
 
 She must, then, make one more effsrt. 
 
 The interior of the coach was dark; but the men who 
 were guarding her seemed to have eyes like cats, so closely 
 did they watch her. 
 
 A quick movement alone could be successful. 
 
 The poor girl, rendered desperate by the nature of her 
 situation, resolved upon a bold action. 
 
 It was, to open the door of the coach and spring 
 out. 
 
 She might hurt herself severely ; but, then, she might 
 escape. 
 
 This was sufficient encouragement for her to make the 
 requisite attempt. 
 
 With a sudden bound, which, as she had rightly antici- 
 pator 1 , took the men completely by surprise, she reached 
 the door of the coach. 
 
 She put he hand out in a moment and strove to turn the 
 handle. 
 
 But it was stiff, and required the exercise of considerable 
 strength to turn it. 
 
 That strength Edgworth Bess could not exercise, awk- 
 wardly situated as she was ; and the men, who were now 
 aware of what she was about, seized her by her arm and 
 shoulder and drew her back on to the seat. 
 
 Foiled in this desperate attempt, the poor girl was no 
 longer able to control her tears, and she sobbed violently. 
 
 She had now lost all hope. 
 
 She felt that now she could do nothing but passively 
 submit to that malignant destiny which seemed ever to 
 pursue her. 
 
 Her conductors now changed their position. 
 
 They sat on either side of her, instead of opposite, as 
 they had done before. 
 
 She was thus completely in their power. 
 
 She might have screamed, but she really had not the 
 heart to do so ; and if she had, her cries would have been 
 stopped in a moment, in a manner by far mere effectual 
 than pleasant. 
 
 At length, the coach came to a standstill. 
 
 The cessation of the movement caused Edgworth Bess 
 to look up. 
 
 She found her forebodings fully realised. 
 
 The coach stopped opposite the thief-taker's house in 
 Newgate Street. 
 
 As if by magic, the door of that doomed abode flew open 
 before the revolution of the wheels had ceased. 
 
 The men opened the door of the coach and dragged 
 their prisoner out with them. 
 
 Maddened with despair and desperation, the poor girl 
 determined to make yei another effort for her freedom. 
 
 She set up a succession of the most piercing shrieks 
 with so much suddenness, as to have almost a paralysing 
 effect upon her guards. 
 
 So shrill were they, that they filled the whole street with 
 their sound. 
 
 But they were abruptly put an end to. 
 
 One of the janizaries placed his hand rudely over her 
 mouth, and then she was hurried into the house with 
 breathless rapidity. 
 
 The door was closed the moment they entered, and the 
 hackney-coach rolled away. 
 
 All this had taken place so quickly, that by the time 
 people came running hastily to the spot to ascertain what 
 had taken place, notliing was to be seen, and all was still. 
 
 One was bold enough to knock at the door of the thief- 
 taker's house, and finding no notice was taken of his first 
 summons, he repeated it. 
 
 Wild answered the door himself. 
 
 He took from his pocket the formidable bludgeon which 
 he was scarcely ever without. 
 
 Then, holding it in readiness to strike, he opened the 
 door quickly. 
 
 He just caught sight of someone. 
 
 Down came the bludgeon with the full force of his 
 arm. 
 
 There was a disagreeable, sickening, crashing sound, 
 and the man, with his hat knocked down over his eyes, 
 i - olled backwards down the steps into the street. 
 
 With a satisfied chuckle, Jonathan closed the door. 
 
 In the meantime, Edgworth Bess had been placed on 
 the bench on which the man who was on the lock gene- 
 rally sai. 
 
 She no longer struggled, she no longer shrieked. 
 
 She was well aware of the futility of both. 
 
 The time had passed by when either would be of service 
 to her. 
 
 In the thief-taker's house her straggles would bo 
 unheeded!, and her shrieks would produce no moro ei'ect 
 than if they had never been uttered.
 
 BLUESKIK : A ROMANCE. 
 
 SIR JAMES TIIORNHILL PAINTING JACK SHEPPARD's POIl^.AIT. 
 
 Jaattthfiu "vViid, having disposed of the inquisitive gen- 
 tleman outside, canio up to her. 
 
 With an rJi>ctation of excessive politeness, he took off 
 his hat and m&de a very low bow. 
 
 Bess shuddered. 
 
 " I have to congratulate you !" he said, in a sneering, 
 mocking voice — " I have to congratulate you upon your 
 sudden, but nevertheless most welcome recovery from 
 your illness ! I was afraid I should be deprived of your 
 society for some tiroo longer yet; but fate, I see, has 
 willed it otherwise ! I am glad of it !" 
 
 The poor girl's heart sank within her at this address. 
 
 She would ten times rather have had Jonathan Wild 
 ferocious and cruel, than thus pretending to be agreeable 
 and kind. 
 
 She dreaded the worst from it. 
 
 But she did not speak. 
 
 She felt that she could not address herself to the villain 
 Vho had been the bane of her young life. 
 
 "I regret," be continued, "that you are not pleased 
 Nj. T3. — Bl.UKSKIN. 
 
 No, 73. 
 
 with the accommodation in my house, b'd; I cr.anot remeJ* 
 that just at present. You must wait a little while, arJl 
 then you will have no cause to complain. Come, give v-;i 
 your hand, and I will lead you to your apartment." 
 
 Wild grinned facetiously as he uttered this last worti 
 with particular emphasis. 
 
 But Edgworth Bess did not move, or show the lear.'i 
 symptom of obeying him. 
 
 Wild, however, came a step nearer, ana took hold of hffl" 
 with one hand by the waist, and the other by the 
 arm. 
 
 He was then easily able to raiso her to a standing 
 posture. 
 
 This dope, he turned to Tonks, who had been a curicus 
 and amazed spectator of this singular scene. 
 
 "Quick, villain!" said Wild, "get a lantern aad sho'vr 
 me the way upstairs !" 
 
 Tonks flew to obey his commands. 
 
 A dark lantern was burning on a bracket noa;* tiio cJeSft 
 and he took hold of it, saying : 
 
 , _^ , ■•>
 
 678 
 
 BLUESKJN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " Here y<ra arc, if you please, Mr. Wild ! This way ! 
 The lantern is alight !" 
 
 " Bah ! Go on, •will you !" 
 
 Tonks ascended the stairs backwards, in order that his 
 imperious master should have the full benefit of the light 
 he carried. 
 
 Up he went, until at length he was commanded by Wild 
 to pause before a door. 
 
 It led into a chamber adjoining the one in which Blue- 
 skin had been confined. 
 
 The key was sticking in the lock, and Tonics opened 
 the door. 
 
 Then he stood on one side. 
 
 Jonathan half-carried Edgworth Bess into the room. 
 
 " There !" ho said, as he released her. " You can 
 remain here until I have completed my arrangements." 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLVIL 
 
 JONATHAN WILD WRITES A LETTER TO THE SECRETARY 
 OF STATE. 
 
 Without saying another word, Jonathan Wild retreated 
 towards the door, and, crossing the threshold, closed it 
 after him. 
 
 He took particular care to lock and bolt it ; and then, 
 with a sigh of satisfaction, he acknowledged that all was 
 secure. 
 
 She could not escape. 
 
 That door would be proof against ten times the amount 
 of strength which she could bring to bear upon it. 
 
 Then, the window was not only a giddy height from 
 the ground, but was strongly protected with iron bars. 
 
 There was no fear, therefore, of her escaping that way. 
 
 Oh, how Jonathan Wild chuckled, and laughed, and 
 rubbed his hands together as he descended the stairs, fol- 
 lowed by the wondering Tonks. 
 
 His heart was elate at the fruition of his deep-laid 
 scheme. 
 
 Upon reaching the landing on the first-floor he paused. 
 
 " Go down !" he said to Tonks ; " if anything particular 
 occurs I shall be here !" 
 
 The thief-taker entered the sitting-room as he spoke. 
 
 He was not a little surprised to iind it completely filled 
 with smoke, the odour of which proclaimed evidently 
 enough that it was produced by the combustion of 
 tobacco. 
 
 He entered, and was immediately greeted by a voice, 
 the tones of which were familar to him. 
 
 " Hullo, guv'nor, here you are at last ! D— -n me, if I 
 thought you were ever coming into this room again, and I 
 can't stir about !" 
 
 It was Wild, j unior, who spoke. 
 
 "I did not know you were here, George," growled the 
 thief-taker, as he strode across the room, and sank down 
 in his accustomed seat near the fireplace. 
 
 "Well, guv'nor, I laid in bed till I could lay no longer, 
 d— n me if I could ! So, with a little assistance, I dressed 
 myself and got down here, and here I have sat in this 
 d — d hard chair ever since." 
 
 U I am glad to find you are well enough to get up, 
 George," said Wild. "Events are approaching a climax." 
 
 " Are they ? I thought so, d— d if I didn't I" 
 
 " What made you think that ?" 
 
 " Why, this confounded wound of mine. Oh, d— n it ! 
 I can't help groaning now and then, it gives me such 
 pinches." 
 
 " You have need to be thankful you are no worse." 
 
 •• Well, I suppose so ! But, come, guv'nor, tell us the 
 news. How have things gone on— well or bad ?" 
 
 " I should say well, but for one circumstance." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " Oh, you know well enough !" 
 
 " I'm d — d if I do." 
 
 "I mean the less of Lord Donmull's papers. If I had 
 thase, I should have the game entirely in nry own 
 hands." J 
 
 '•Then fortune has been favouring you 01 late 
 guv'nor ?" 
 
 "Well, I have been a little luckier," said the thief-taker, 
 with a complacent grin. 
 
 "What has happened? Tell me what good news you 
 can, far I am so d— d melancholy, I don't know what to 
 do with myself." 
 
 Jonathan paused a moment in reflection. 
 
 He hardly knew whether to tell his son oi not 
 
 Had he been less rejoicud or elated than he was just then, 
 he would probably have held his psace. 
 
 As it was, he had not sufficient command of himself to 
 do so. 
 
 "Jack Shcppard's in Newgate," he said. 
 
 "That's good news, at any rate," said Wild, junior. 
 D — n his hide, I shall be glad to see him tucked up at 
 Tyburn." 
 
 "No doubt you will ; so shall I. Make haste and get 
 well." 
 
 " That will recover me. When does the execution take 
 place ?" 
 
 " In a very few days." 
 
 "The devil!" 
 
 " I cannot fix the precise date." 
 
 " But the warrant for his execution is already signed, 
 sealed, and delivered — is it not ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then why don't you act upon it?" 
 
 "The document requires to be re-endorsed or something 
 of that sort." 
 
 " Is it done ?" 
 
 "Not yet. I went -,o see the Secretary oi State this 
 morning." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " He is somewhere in Scotland, but his arrival is ex- 
 pected every day." 
 
 " Oh, indeed !" 
 
 "I went because I thought I should have influence 
 enough to induce him to let the execution take place with- 
 out delay." 
 
 "But you could not see him ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " How d — d unlucky, to be sure ! What shall you do ? 
 Write ?" 
 
 " I have already written." 
 
 " Oh, curse me, guv'nor, you are a real man o* business, 
 and no mistake !" 
 
 Wild grinned, and looked pleased at this compliment. 
 
 "What did you say in the letter ?" continued his 
 son. 
 
 " I have got a rough copy of it in my pocket-book." 
 
 " Eead it, then — read it, guv'nor. It will do my heart 
 good to hear it." 
 Jonathan Wild did not want much pressing. 
 
 Diving his hand into one of his capacious pockets, ha 
 drew forth a pocket-book, whose size co-rresponded well 
 with the receptacle from which it had been taken. 
 
 It was crammed with papers of various descriptions, 
 and, after some trouble, Jonathan produced one. 
 
 It was the rough draft of the letter he had written and 
 forwarded to the Secretary of State. 
 
 His son George watched him eagerly while he unfolded 
 it. 
 
 Then Jonathan, drawing the candle to the corner of the 
 table, so as to have a full advantage of its light, began to 
 read. 
 His son listened attentively. 
 The thief -taker read as follows : — 
 
 "My Lord, 
 
 " I write these few lines to you on a very rmpor- 
 tant matter, which I hope will be my excuse for doing so. 
 That infamous and notorious wretch, Jack Sheppard, the 
 housebreaker and murderer, has at length, through the in- 
 defatigable exertiens of your most humble servant to 
 command, been recaptured and lodged in his most 
 Gracious Majesty's prison of Newgate. This in-formation 
 will, I am sure, well afford you veiy great satisfaction. 1 
 have, your lordship, taken upon myself to look closely 
 after his safe custody, and I am assnired that the precau • 
 tions which I have given Mr. Noakes, the Governor, t© 
 take, will effectually prevent this daring prison-breaker 
 making a third escape. I much regret that your lordship 
 should be absent at this juncture, as you are aware the 
 warrant, which is already delivered fox the execution of 
 the prisoner, cannot be acted upon until endorsed by you, 
 and through this the execution will be delayed, which I 
 should like and advise should take place at the earliest 
 possible moment, as any delay may only afford the pri- 
 soner opportunities for escape which he would not have if 
 the execution took place at once.
 
 BLUES KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 579 
 
 "I therefore hope that your lordship will, with as little 
 delay as possible, send authority for tho wishes of your 
 humble servant to be curried into effect, though you may 
 depend no means will be left untried to keep him safe. His 
 notorious companion, Joseph Blake — better known as 
 Bhieskin — I have also certain knowledge of, and in a few 
 days I hope to be able to announco his capture and safe 
 lodgment in gaol. 
 
 " This comes from your lordship's 
 "Most obedient and humble 
 " Servant to command, 
 
 "Jonathan Wild.* 
 
 The thief -taker read this letter with extraordinary unc- 
 tion, and when he had finished, folded it up carefully, 
 and replaced it in his pocket-book with au air that said 
 plainly enough that he was exceedingly well pleased with 
 his performance. 
 
 " That's a d — d good letter, guv'nor !" was the comment 
 made by his son as soon as he had done reading it — "a 
 d — d good letter, and no mistake !" 
 
 In this the reader will probably agree, seeing that the 
 thief-taker took to himself not only the capture of Jack 
 Shs'ppard and safe lodgment in Newgate, but also the pre- 
 caution which Mr. Noakes had devised and taken of visit- 
 ing the prisoner frequently in his cell. 
 
 A politic man was Jonathan AVild, and it is beyond all 
 doubt that by some such means as this, he contrived to 
 get the credit he obtained. 
 
 "I hope it will achieve its object," he said, in reply to 
 his son's commendatory remark ; " I shall be more pleased 
 and satisfied with it then." 
 
 " D®n't trouble yourself about that, guv'nor. If the 
 Secretary of State reads it, he will adopt your suggestions, 
 never fear !" 
 
 "Do you really think so?" said Wild, whoso weakest 
 point was too great a susceptibility to be won over by a 
 little flattery. 
 
 " I will wager my head against a brass farthing that he 
 does !" replied his son, emphatically. 
 
 " Then all will be well. I shall sleep better when Jack 
 Sheppard has taken his last look at this world at Ty- 
 burn." 
 
 " Ah, guv'nor, that reminds me ! What other luck have 
 you had lately — any?" 
 
 It was the flattery George had just administered that 
 induced his father to reply : 
 
 "Yes, George," he said, "I have had a little more 
 luck!" 
 
 " What ? Let us hear it ! You ean't do a better thing 
 than take me into your confidence !" 
 
 " I don't know that !" returned the thief-taker, sharply, 
 whose suspicions had been aroused by this last remark, " I 
 don't feel satisfied in my mind about the loss #f those 
 papers !" 
 
 " Oh !" exclaimed George, with an offended air, " If you 
 are going to bring that subject up again, I am off to bed 
 at once ! I cannot stand it !" 
 
 " I can't help having my suspicions." 
 
 " I don't say anything about that, but I am d — d if any- 
 thing will satisfy you or remove them ! I have told you 
 over and over again that I have not got thorn, and don't 
 know where they are, but you won't believe me !" 
 
 " Well, well, I " 
 
 "D — m me, if I won't hava this affair settled one way 
 er the other," interrupted George Wild, speaking in a tone 
 of great resolution. " I say this affair shall be settled 
 one way or another, and d — m me if it shan't this very 
 night !" 
 
 "Listen to " 
 
 "No, I'm d — d if I listen to you or anyone else! You 
 listen and I'll speak, guv'nor, we can settle this hero 
 difference easy enough. It lies in a nutshell. You must 
 either drop your suspicions, treat me with confidence, and 
 be my friend and partner, or else I shall drop you and 
 turn round against you! Do you understand that, 
 guv'nor ? You would not like to have me for an am my— 
 should you ? There's no d — d weakness about me, and I 
 should think no more about helping to scrag you than 
 anyone else ! I know ene or two little things about you, 
 guv'nor, that you would not care about having brought to 
 light, but I would not mind doing it, not a bit ; not if I 
 knew you would be led off to Tyburn at once ! So, 
 guv'nor, I hope you understand ma !" 
 
 George Wild spoke these words in a tone of great deter- 
 mination and menace, and he was encouraged to proceed 
 by the visible effect which they had produced upon his 
 parent. 
 
 He eould see Jonathan wince and tremble as he spoke. 
 
 It. was a bold and dangerous course to adopt, but 
 George felt that his case was desperate, and that some 
 desperate remedy would bo required to effect a cure. 
 
 His bearing staggered the thief-taker in his suspicions. 
 
 " Now, guv'nor," continued George, " a word will settle 
 this business. I am convinced that you suspect me. You 
 have tried to take me by surprise — you have come upon 
 me when I least expected a visit — you have searched my 
 room in every nook and corner, and you have overhauled 
 my clothes ! What have you found ? Nothing, because 
 there was nothing hidden, and so, of course, you found 
 nothing !" 
 
 " Goorgo !" replied Wild, " You have said quite enough ! 
 I can now see plain enough that my suspicions have 
 been unjust. Think no more of it! Wo will be friends ! 
 We will place mutual confidence in eaeh other ! Are you 
 willing ?" 
 
 " Quite, guv'nor ! I believe it will answer our purpose 
 a great deal better to bo friends than it wowld to bo 
 enemies." 
 
 "Shake hands, then !" said the thief-taker, "and we 
 will consider the matter as settled !" 
 
 "With all my heart!" said George, as he took his? 
 father's hand within his own and pressed it. 
 
 It was a curious transaction, and it would indeed bo a 
 most difficult matter to say which of the parties was most 
 sincere. 
 
 They were deceiving each other. 
 
 As he thought over the matter, Jonathan felt that his 
 suspicions were by no means removed. 
 
 But under these circumstances he judged that his most 
 prudent course would be to dissemble. 
 
 He felt how dangerous his son would be shovdd he turn 
 against him and become his enemy, and therefore he l'e- 
 solved to conciliate him by his real feelings. 
 
 Time, he thought, would unravel most things, and he 
 had no doubt ere long something would turn up which 
 would either confirm his suspicions or dissipate them. 
 
 OHAPTBE CCCLVIII. 
 
 JONATHAN WTLD AND HIS SON BECOME BETTER FRIENDS 
 WITH EACH OTHER. 
 
 And so this precious pair shook hands with each other. 
 
 Wild, junior, was satisfied. 
 
 He believed that he had really succeeded in hoodwink- 
 ing his very clever parent, and so he shook hands with 
 the greatest cordiality. 
 
 The result of this hollow friendship will be exhibited 
 in the sequel. 
 
 It will be shown that, by attempting to overreach each 
 other, they materially helped to accelerate their own 
 downfall and ruin. 
 
 The progress of events will, however, exhibit this. 
 
 Wo have now to deal with tho transactions of tho 
 present time. 
 
 A pause followed the shaking hands, which was so dis- 
 agreeable to George that he broke it. 
 
 "Well, guv'nor," ho said, "now that wo have made 
 matters all right between us, let us have the pieoo of 
 luck that you have met with ! Have you captured Blue- 
 skin ?" 
 
 "No, not yet." 
 
 "What then, guv'nor? Speak out, orl shall think you 
 are playing fast and loose with me !" 
 
 " Don't be afraid of that, George ! Something very im< 
 portwnt has taken place !" 
 
 " Then why don't you tell me what ?" 
 
 " Cannot you guess ?" 
 
 " Not, not without " 
 
 "Without what?" 
 
 "Without you have captured the heiress !" 
 
 Jonathan nodded. 
 
 " Have you really done so ?" said George, in a tone of 
 voice which betokened how interested he was in the 
 reply. 
 
 "I have!" 
 
 "When? How? Where is she?" 
 1 How anxious you seem, George I"
 
 583 
 
 BLUESRIV: A ROMANCE. 
 
 "Of course I am anxious! Haven't you told mo how 
 important to oar interests it was that the ghi should be in 
 our possession ?" 
 
 George laid particular 'stress upon the two pronouns. 
 " But you seem so very anxious, GeorgO !" ~> 
 
 - Do you think so, cuv'nor ?" s / 
 
 "I do!" * 
 
 " Well, it's the truth. I am very anxious, for I think, 
 guv'nor, if we can only bring that scheme to perfection, 
 we shall be able to retire !" 
 
 "So we shall, George ! But there is mucli to io be- 
 tween now and then !" 
 
 " I am aware of that, but it seems to me that no small 
 portion is already accomplished." j 
 
 "I have been lucky, George !" 
 
 "You have. First, there's that son off a devil, Jack 
 Sheppard! You say he is in Newgate., and that the 
 strictest care will be taken of him ?" 
 
 " You are quite right." 
 
 "Then you say you have the heiress in your hands?" 
 
 " Yes, she's under my keeping !" 
 
 " Where ? D — n it all, why don't you speak out ?" 
 
 " You should not be so impatient, George. I will tell 
 you all in good time. Edgworth Bess, fcir so I suppose I 
 shall always call her, is safely locked up in one of the 
 6trong rooms at the top of the house. 
 
 George took careful note of this. 
 
 " Good !" he said. " Take care that she does not make 
 her escape !" 
 
 " There's no fear of that." 
 
 " Well, then, take care that none of her friends rescue 
 her '." 
 
 "Leave that to me! You need not trouble yourself 
 about that! I have taken such measures as absolutely 
 assure me of her safety !" 
 
 "Very well, guv'nor, you ought to know best, but I 
 really must congratulate you upon the present aspect of 
 affairs." 
 
 "It is promising to a degree, but not so promising as I 
 could wish." 
 
 " What's the matter ?" 
 
 " Jack Sheppard is not yet executed !" 
 
 "But he will be?" 
 
 " If I can bring that desirable event about ; neverthe- 
 less, he is not executed!" 
 
 "Well, I grant that, guv'nor. What next?" 
 
 " Bluesldn is not yet captured !" 
 
 "But he will be?" 
 
 "He must be !" 
 
 "Well, I don't see anything impossible, or even any 
 difficulty about either of these ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not. Still, before we can deal with Edgworth 
 Bess, both these things must be accomplished." 
 
 " It will bo best." 
 
 " Then, when those two meddling villains are out of the 
 way, my course will be easier, but even then there will bo 
 difficulties." 
 
 " A mere trifle." 
 
 " No, no !" 
 
 " What is there, then ?" 
 
 "The papers!" 
 
 " Oh, d — m those papers !" 
 
 "So say I, but for all that, they must be had, nothing 
 can be done without them !" 
 
 "But supposing you had got the papers, guv'nor, what 
 then ?" 
 
 " Then our troubles would bo ever. We would obtain 
 possession of all the money and estates, and divide the lot 
 equally between us!" 
 
 "An excellent plan, guv'nor, and one that I shan't 
 grumble at, you may depend !' 
 
 " You ought not!" 
 
 "Well, guv'nor, I will tiy to serve you all I can. You 
 shan't have cause to repent of taking me into confidence 
 and partnership. And now, guv'nor, about this young 
 girl!" 
 
 " What about her ?" 
 
 "Why, I must caution you not to make too sure of her 
 eafety ! I have got a little scheme to propose for making 
 her escape impossible!" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Why, guv'nor, I am far from well, and it will be some 
 time yet before I am able to g^t aoout or go out of doors. 
 
 "Well, well?" 
 
 " I propose, then, that I should take up my quarters in 
 the room which adjoins the one in which this girl is 
 placed. I might as well be there as anywhere else, and I 
 should be able to keep .such a sharp look-out that I would 
 stake my life she did not escape !" 
 
 Jonathan Wild glanced furtively into the face of his son 
 as he made this proposition. 
 
 But George's couutenance afforded no index to his mind, 
 and Wild, astute as he was at reading other people's 
 thoughts, was completely baffled by his son. 
 
 Whether he was anxious to undertake this duty from a 
 proper motive, or whether he had some ulterior design of 
 his own which such a proceeding would further, he could 
 not tell. 
 
 At that moment Jonathan would have given anything 
 to be assured of his son's good faith. 
 
 If he was sincere and acting straightforwardly towards 
 him, nothing would have pleased Jonathan better than for 
 George to have took up his guard in the way he had men- 
 tioned. 
 
 But he could not drive the papers out of his mind. 
 
 He could not help thinking that George had abstracted 
 them, and concealed them somewhere. 
 
 H so, it would answer his purpose best to get on good 
 terms with the heiress, and this proximity would afford 
 him every opportunity of achieving his purpose. 
 
 A cold shiver crept over the thief-taker as an unpleasant 
 conviction suggested itself to his mind. 
 
 Could it be that his son was merely making use of him 
 as a tool ? 
 
 Could it be that he (Jonathan) was taking all this trouble 
 for the aggrandisement of another ? 
 
 He sickened at the thought. 
 
 George had once before served him a rascally trick, and 
 why should he not do so a second time ? 
 
 What if George only made use of him for his own 
 ends. 
 
 Suppose, when all was achieved, instead of receiving 
 his share, his son was to turn round upon him and hand 
 him over to the executioner ! 
 
 He knew that his son was in possession of certain occur- 
 rences which, if disclosed in proper quarters, would have 
 the effect of consigning him to the scaffold. 
 
 He was also too well acquainted with his son's disposi- 
 tion to think that he would for a moment scruple to 
 do so. 
 
 He was certain he would not hesitate. 
 
 Even in this world, then, Jonathan began to be aware 
 that there was such a thing as retribution. 
 
 It came upon him in the form of his son. 
 
 Indeed, what ho then suffered was an instalment of the 
 punishment which he deserved, and which he was destined 
 to receive on earth. 
 
 Had Jack Sheppard been able to comprehend his feel- 
 ings, he would have felt a certain amount of sorrow for 
 him. 
 
 He could not have helped pitying him. 
 
 So acute were his feelings that the thief-taker could not 
 repress a groan. 
 
 His son started as the unexpected sound came upon his 
 ears. 
 
 He wondered what could have produced it. 
 
 "Hullo, guv'nor!" he said, roughly; "what is it e 
 matter?" 
 
 Jonathan recovered himself, and looked up. 
 
 " I have been hurt," he said, "and I felt a sudden pain.' 
 
 " Ah ! I know what that is ; I don't wonder at yout 
 groaning !" 
 
 "It was sharp and sudden !" said the thief-taker, who, by 
 a second effort, succeeded in thoroughly obtaining the 
 mastery over his emotions. 
 
 " Well, but you haven't told me what you think of my 
 proposition !" said Wild, junior, after a short pause. 
 
 " I think it a vciy good one!" replied the thief-taker, 
 with another groan, but this tune it was an inward one, 
 and inaudible to his son. 
 
 "Well, that's just what I think, guv'nor! You leave 
 her to me, and I will be answerable for her safe keeping. 
 Yon ought to be glad to have that trouble taken off your 
 hands, because it will allow you to devote more of your 
 thoughts, time, and attention to Jack Sheppard." 
 
 "It will!" 
 
 "And I am sure he requires it! You must n <t leave 
 Noakes to keep him secure. If vol? do, you will find year-
 
 BLUE'?KIN; A ROMANCE. 
 
 881 
 
 self in the wrong box, for Noakes is nothing better than a 
 d— d fool !" 
 
 " I believe that," said Jonathan. " Do not fear! I shall 
 look closely after Mr. Jack myself. I have already paid 
 hiiu two visits since his imprisonment — one not lon$ -igo. 
 I examined all his fetters, and looked all about the oftU ; 
 but all was quite safe, and just as it had been left !" 
 
 " I should advise you to go again early in the morning, 
 guv'nor. You can't tell what he might be at to-night'" 
 
 " Very true ; and I would not have him get loose agam 
 upon any consideration !" 
 
 " Nor I, or else you would have all your trouble over 
 again." 
 
 "It is an unfortunate thing that the Secretary of State 
 is not in London. If he was, we would get Jack executed 
 on Monday. As it is, there is sure to be a delay, because 
 the sessions begin on the Monday following." 
 
 " That's d — d awkward, guv'nor !" 
 
 " It is, becauso I don't suppose I could get a special 
 hanging-day appointed for him, and so he would have to 
 ■wait untO the Monday after that." 
 
 " Oh, the devil ! That will never do !" 
 
 "I am afraid we shall have to put up with it, George. 
 To-night is Friday — or, as I suppose, is fast getting to- 
 wards Saturday morning. If the Secretary of State is in 
 Scotland, it is impossible for me to have an answer back 
 in time." 
 
 "But you said he was expected to return every day !" 
 
 "So he is !" 
 
 " He might come back to-morrow ?" 
 
 " He might, and that is our only chance ; I must say, it 
 is a very slight one." 
 
 " Very indeed !" 
 
 " Yow will now comprehend my anxiety to have this 
 business over quickly. There are eight men in Newgate 
 under sentence of death, and in all probability they will 
 everyone be executed next Monday morning. Now, I 
 wanted to get Jack Sheppard in among that batch !" 
 
 " It would be a d — d good thing if you could, guv'nor — 
 it would indeed ! Don't you think you could get him in 
 somehow, and have the warrant signed afterwards ?" 
 
 " I daresay I could, but that pig-headed Sheriff Mooney 
 has a spite against me, and opposes me all he can, so I 
 should not be able to get his consent." 
 
 " Then it appears, guv'nor, that Jack Sheppard will have 
 to be in Newgate for rather more than a fortnight ?" 
 
 " It will be a fortnight next Monday to the next hang- 
 ing-day !" 
 
 " Then it's a shame, that's all I can say ! We are to 
 miss all this week through a pig-headed sheriff and a 
 d — d Secretary's signature !" 
 
 " Just so. I am afraid there is no hope of getting him 
 to appoint a speeial hanging-day for Jack. The sheriffs 
 would oppose that again." 
 
 " Oh, d— n the sheriffs !" 
 
 " Amen ! with all my heart !" 
 
 " I'll tell yeu what it is, guv'nor ! — you must leave that 
 girl, Edgworth Bess as you call her, entirely to me, as I 
 said before, I will be answerable for her safety ! You must 
 forget all about her, and direct the whole of your energies 
 to keeping Jack Sheppard safe in gaol for such a long 
 time. It strikes me you will find it no easy matter." 
 
 " I am afraid so, too !" 
 
 " Well, then, that ought to show you the necessity of 
 never quitting him. Why, d — n it, if I was well enough 
 I would sit outside his cell door, and never move till he 
 was led out to be pinioned !" 
 
 " I will look after him, never fear !" said Jonathan, in a 
 revengeful tone of voice. " I have a grudge against him, 
 and rest assured that I will see it paid. As you say, 
 George, you shall look well after Edgworth Bes<3, and I 
 will do nothing else but see that Jack Sheppard does not 
 make a third escape from Newgate. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLIX. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD SUCCEEDS IN UNDOING HIS FETTERS 
 WITHOUT THE ADD OF A KEY. 
 
 We confess we fairly tremble for the safety of Jack 
 Sheppard. 
 
 This time we fear he stands a very poor chance of 
 escaping an ignominious ride to Tyburn indeed. 
 
 The many events we have described in the course of this 
 
 narrative will prove that Jonathan Wild was a man of no 
 common order. 
 
 _ The main cause of his want of success in his great de- 
 signs was that he undertook too much, so that, of conse- 
 quence, his attention was divided. 
 
 Now, however, h© was no longer to be perplexed like 
 the sportsman in the fable. 
 
 His son George had taken th9 care of Edgworth 
 Bess off his hands, — the police officers were directing all 
 their attention to capturing Blueskin. 
 
 He was, then, in a position to devote himself entirely to 
 Jack Sheppard, and make it his special business to see that 
 he did not escape. 
 
 The Governor of Newgate had resolved to neglect 
 everything else to achieve the same object, and with these 
 two implacable and personal enemies, what chance would 
 Jack have for the exercise of his extraordinary ingenuitv 
 and industry ? 
 
 He was doomed. 
 
 Then there was the application which had been made to 
 the Secretary of State. 
 
 The issue of that application was very doubtful, for 
 none could tell how soon that official personage would bo 
 in London. 
 
 He was hourly expected, and, of course, the very moment 
 he arrived, Jonathan Wild would instantly be commu- 
 nicated with. 
 
 Even if he came so late as Sunday night, it would be in 
 time. 
 
 The reader must not forget that at the time of which 
 we write, no rapid means of communication existed. 
 
 The electric telegraph and the locomotive engine were 
 both undreamt of. 
 
 Truly did Jack's fate hang upon the merest thread. 
 
 Let us return to him. 
 
 We left him vexed and angry. 
 
 He had been tugging vainly at bis chain in the en- 
 deavour to reach the nail in the wall. 
 
 While so engaged, he heard footsteps, and undesirous of 
 discovery, he had relinquished his efforts, and resumed 
 his old attitude upon the stone bench. 
 
 He was only just in time. 
 
 The door opened, and the Governor and Jonathan Wild 
 appeared. 
 
 While speaking to his son, the thief-taker stated he had 
 had two interviews with Jack Sheppard since his capture. 
 
 The first has been described ; the second was now about 
 to take place. 
 
 There was nothing important in the details. 
 
 As night was coming on, the thief-taker had judged it 
 advisable to have one more look at his prisoner. 
 
 The two hours having again elapsed, the Governor 
 willingly accompanied him ; but, instead of just putting 
 his head inside the door, and giving a hasty glance 
 around, as he had done on the previous occasion when 
 alone, he followed Jonathan into the cell. 
 
 Wild glanced keenly at the prisoner, who, however, 
 relapsed into his former sullen mood, refusing to speak or 
 to take notice of anything that was going on around 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Noakes carried a lantern in his hand, for the 
 passages through which they had to pass to reach the 
 strong room were dark ones, and Wild requested him to 
 bring it in order to ascertain whether the fetters had been 
 tampered with. 
 
 The thief-taker was surprised to see Jack sitting there 
 so quietly. 
 
 He could not makes it out, and he was suspicious ac- 
 cordingly. 
 
 , So far as he could see, however, all was well, and the 
 prisoner did not seem to have stirred hand or foot since he 
 left him. 
 
 Of his failure in obtaining an interview with the 
 Secretary of State, Wild said not a word, and Jack 
 Sheppard never addressed a single question to him. 
 
 The thief-taker was not satisfied, though, with the 
 cursory examination he had made. 
 
 He would not feel satisfied until he had looked at the 
 fetters, Jink by link ; and he now took the lantern from 
 the Governor for that purpose. 
 
 Jack Sheppard scowled when his old enemy approached 
 him, but that was all the notice he thought fit to take. 
 
 Jonathan observed it, and said, mockingly : 
 
 " Don't be angry, Jack, lad — don't be angry ! I won'1
 
 882 
 
 BLVESKTN ; A R3MANTE. 
 
 hurt you, but I cannot rest until I have seen that your 
 pretty jewellery is not out of repair any whcr» I" 
 
 Jack calmed himself. 
 
 He wished to mislead and deceive his foes as much as 
 possible, and knowing that the fetters weio in just the 
 same condition as they were when put on, he h*d nothing 
 to fear from Wild's examination, so he permitted him to 
 make it unresistingly. 
 
 Jonathan was forced to confess himself satisfied. 
 
 The fetters were all right. 
 
 He was convinced that not even an attempt had been 
 made to tamper with tkem. 
 
 He could scarcely believe this, and was forced to come 
 to the conclusion thai, either Jack was convinced of the 
 hopelessness of making an escape, or elsa he had some 
 deep-laid scheme maturing in his brain. 
 
 The latter seemed most likely. 
 
 But Jack persisted in maintaining his obstinate silence, 
 and eventually the Goveraor and Jonathan withdrew. 
 
 Jack listened until he heard their footsteps become in- 
 audible in the distance, and then he said : 
 
 "I see it all now ! Their plan is clear enough. There 
 is no longer room for me t© doubt it. They made up their 
 minds to visit me at these frequent intervals, being under 
 the impression that by so doing they will most effectually 
 prevent my escape. Such a course, if they continue it, 
 cannot fail to answer their purpose and consign mo to 
 despair. Before I made any progress I should be dis- 
 covered. I have no chance without I can succeed in 
 tiring them out. This is a faint chance indeed, when the 
 dispositions of these two men are taken into account. 
 Still, they may grow weary after a time, when they find 
 that they have no recompense for their trouble. After a 
 time, do I say ? How do I know how soon they may 
 drag me forth to execution ? Perhaps the day after to- 
 morrow! If so, farewell hope !" 
 
 Jack Sheppard let his head fall between his hands, and 
 for a few.moments gave way to despondency. 
 
 Housing himself, he bethought himself of tUe manner in 
 which he was engaged when he was interrupted by his 
 late visit. 
 
 The prospect of having to remain all night in his 
 fetters was so distasteful a one that he resolved to prevent 
 it if he could. 
 
 Jack had a peculiar faculty of picking locks. 
 
 The rudest tool sufficed for his purpose, so very dex- 
 terous was he, but then the locks with which he had to 
 deal wore not by any means complex pieces of mechan- 
 ism. 
 
 A crooked nail he felt sure would be the very thing to 
 answer his purpose, and there was a nail sticking in the 
 wall only an inch or two out of the reach of his fingers. 
 
 Despite his former failure, he resolved to tiy once more 
 whether he could not succeed. 
 
 He rose painfully and slowly, for his limbs were cramped 
 terribly. 
 
 His first care was to see that the chain by which he was 
 secured to the wall was not twisted in any part, so that he 
 might have the full advantage of its length. 
 
 Having done this, he proceeded to creep along the face 
 of the wall towards the nail. 
 
 A cry of joy — of overpowering joy — came from his 
 lips. 
 
 He could reach it. 
 
 When he had overcome the sensations of delight which 
 this discovery afforded him, he began to tax his brain to 
 account for being able to reach it on this second occasion, 
 when he had failed to do so on the first. 
 
 This for a long time baffled him. 
 
 There was but one solution of the difficulty that he could 
 think of, and that happened to be the correct one. 
 
 On the previous occasion he had forgotten to straighten 
 his chain. 
 
 Consequently it was twisted and shortened two or three 
 inches. 
 
 He was unable then to reach the wished-fqr . ob- 
 ject. 
 
 Now, howsver, that he had taken the precaution to see 
 that the chain was not kinked up anywhere, he was 
 enabled to touch the nail with the tips of his fingers. 
 
 Having accounted for the circumstance in this manner, 
 he proceeded to loosen the nail in its setting. 
 
 But this he found was a far more difficult task than he 
 had expected. 
 
 The mortar with whieh the stones were contented toge- 
 ther was almost as hard as the stones themselves. 
 
 Patiently, however, Jack tugged at the nail, pulling it 
 backwards and forwards, and loosening it by slow de- 
 grees. 
 
 This eneo«iraged him to persevere with his efforts. 
 
 He knew that in the end he must succeed. 
 
 But it was a tiresome, tedious operation, and his fingers 
 ached terribly. 
 
 Indeed, the pain became so great that ho had to pause 
 and rest. 
 
 But ho went to work again with renewed vigour and 
 determination. 
 
 It was quite dark, though, before he succeeded in draw- 
 ing out the nail, but he did it. 
 
 He had won. 
 
 The victory was his. 
 
 Never did a miser feel so delighted at the acquisition of 
 some priceless treasure which had cost him much toil, 
 than did Jack Skeppard when ho at length held this nail 
 in his hand. 
 
 But his blissful anticipations were quickly put to flight. 
 
 He was startled by footsteps in the corridor. 
 
 This told him that another two hours had elapsed. 
 
 What to do with the nail was a puzzling question. 
 
 Where could he conceal it ? 
 
 If he put it in any of his pockets, there was every risk of 
 its being found. 
 
 If he hid it under the bench, it would very likely be seen 
 by some one. 
 
 Where, then, was he to put it ? 
 
 He had little time to decide. 
 
 He felt inclined more than once to stick it in the wall 
 again as though it had net been disturbed. 
 
 But he naturally shrank from this exposure of his trea- 
 sure to anyone who might enter the dungeon. 
 
 And yet Noakes and the thief-taker had visited him 
 several times without appearing to perceive it. 
 
 If he removed it and left the hole in the mortar visible, 
 it might immediately attract his foes' attention. 
 
 All these thoughts swept through his brain simulta- 
 neously. 
 
 He had no time to deliberate. 
 
 He could not think of a better plan than restoring the 
 nail to the place from whence he had taken it, and with 
 many misgivings he did so. 
 
 Then he had barely time to seat himself before the door 
 opened. 
 
 A bright flash of light streamed in, and he perceived the 
 countenance of the Governor. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was getting sick of this continual visiting te 
 the cells, and had it not been for the fear he had of 
 Jonathan Wild he would have given the job to some one else. 
 
 But he dared not. 
 
 But he performed his duty in a very careless manner. 
 
 He cast one glance around the cell, and then withdrew. 
 
 Jack breathed more freely. 
 
 His nail was safe. 
 
 Afraid, however, lest the Governor should make a sud- 
 den and unexpected return, he waited for some moments 
 in a state of great impatience before he stirred. 
 
 But all having become quiet, he rose to his feet and 
 crept towards the nail for the third time. 
 
 Ho seized it, and drew it out with the utmost ease. 
 
 Then, sitting down, he went to work with it. 
 
 He made his first trial upon the padlock which secured 
 him to the chain that was fastened in the wall. 
 
 This was the largest. 
 
 With almost as little trouble as he would have had if he 
 held the proper key in his hand he undid it. 
 
 Ea placed the chain down quietly, so that a sudden 
 clank upon the stones should not be the means of spread- 
 ing an alarm. 
 
 So lar he was free. 
 
 He was free to walk to any part of the dungeon that he 
 tnought proper; and even this seemed liberty after his 
 late severe confinement. 
 
 But he did not pause. 
 
 Stimulated by his success, he set to work upon the other 
 locks, and in a few moments undid them all. 
 
 He was now hampered only by the handcuffs round hia 
 wrists and the fetters whieh were riveted to his ankles. 
 
 Neither of these he was able to remove ; ner did he> 
 iBdeed, attempt it.
 
 BLCESKtN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 583 
 
 The reason -will be seen presently. 
 
 Having disencumbered himself of the heavy irons, Jack 
 mado no further attempt to escape, but lay down on the 
 stone bench, in order to obtain, if he possibly could, a few 
 hours' repose and rest. 
 
 He was much fatigued ; and though his bed was so 
 hard, yet in a few moments he was fast askep, and con- 
 tinued so until JHst before daybreak. 
 
 Mr. Noakes paid one more visit to tho cell during tbe 
 night. 
 
 He gave one sleepy glance around, and perceiving his 
 prisoner was on the bench, concluded all was right, and 
 retired without discovering that he was unfettered. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLX. 
 
 JACK SIIEPPARD FINDS A GOOD HIDING-PLACE FOR THE 
 NAIL WHICH DID HIM SUCH GOOD SERVICE, AND GIVES AN 
 AfDIliNUE TO SOME VISITORS. 
 
 Of this nocturnal visitation Jack Sheppard remained 
 oblivious. 
 
 It was very incautious of him to sleep so soundly, but 
 he was not master of his own actions. 
 
 Had the Governor performed his duty in a proper 
 manner and as carefully as Jonathan Wild thought he 
 would perform it, he would have discovered that Jack 
 was sleeping more comfortably than he should have been. 
 
 But, as we have seem, through the carelessness of the 
 Governor this discovery was not made. 
 
 It was about an hour before daybreak when Jack 
 SWppard awoke. 
 
 His limbs were somewhat crampid, and he felt chilled 
 through to the bone. 
 
 Nevciiheless, the deep, uninterrupted sleep he had taken 
 had refreshed him in no ordinary degree. 
 
 He felt light-hearted and blithe. 
 
 His first care was to run hastily about tho cell, in 
 order to circulate the blood and remove the stiffness of his 
 joints. 
 
 He found this did him a world of good, and he con- 
 tinued the exercise for a long time, running round and 
 round the cell, and sometimes pacing up and down it with 
 rapid strides. 
 
 At length he was warned by the increased light that 
 found its way through the grated window, that it was 
 high time to desist. 
 
 He could not tell how soon after daybreak he might bo 
 troubled with another visit, and ho had the fetters to put 
 on again. 
 
 Tbis would probably be a long and difficult operation, 
 for he would have to perform it in such a manner as to 
 prevent his foes seeing that the fetters had been tampered 
 with. 
 
 He sat down, then, on the stone bench, and patiently set 
 to work to secure himself again. 
 
 With much more ease than ho had dared to anticipate, 
 ho locked the padlocks again by means of tho nail he had 
 so fortunately acquired. 
 
 In less than a quarter of an hour all was done, and not 
 even the most experienced person could have told that 
 they had been removed. 
 
 He was highly satisfied with his achievements, but soon 
 found himself in a great dilemma as to what ho should do 
 with the nail. 
 
 If by any unlucky accident he should be deprived of it, 
 ho would no longer be able to enjoy even the semblance 
 of a comfortable night's repose. 
 
 He did not altogether like the idea of restoring the nail 
 to the place from whence he had taken it. 
 
 If he did so, there would be great danger that some time 
 or other Jonathan Wild or the Governor would catch a 
 glimpse of it, and, conceiving it to bo dangerous, would 
 remove it. 
 
 But then, on the other hand, both might know, from 
 previous observation, that a nail was there, au<J ifcs disap- 
 pearance would not fail to excite their suspicious, even if 
 tho hole in tho wall from where he had taken it did not 
 attract their observation. 
 
 Jack was in a dilemma. 
 
 Could he but have hit upon some really capital hiding- 
 plaec, where he could feel sure there was littlts or no fear 
 of its being found, he would not have troubled himself in 
 the least about the discovery of the hole in the wall. 
 
 But where within the limited dimensions of his cell was 
 ho to lind such a place ? 
 
 His cell, did we say ? 
 
 For it to be of any service to him, he would have to 
 eonccal it somewhere within his reach wbile ke was 
 chained. 
 
 Ho puzzled his brains in vain to think of a hiding- 
 place. 
 
 There w&s not one that occurred to his mind which 
 offered sufficient prospect of safety. 
 
 He thought once of keeping it in his pock«t until he 
 heard some one come to the door, and then have slipped it 
 into his nyrath ; but he rejected this, as the first time he 
 spoke he must have inevitably betrayed himself. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 At length he hit upon a happy expedient, and yet so 
 simple a one that he was completely at a loss to think how 
 it was the idea had never occurred to him before. 
 
 The floor of his cell was paved with large flag-stones, 
 several of which were broken, while others were very 
 uneven. 
 
 Between all, however, was a wide space where they 
 were joined together by mortar. 
 
 The floor of tho cell was damp — the mortar would con- 
 sequently be soft. 
 
 What, then, would be more easy than for Jack to press 
 the nail down into the mortar with his foot ? 
 
 To withdraw it, when necessary, from so soft a bed 
 would be an easy enough matter. 
 
 It would thxis be completely buried, with the exception 
 of the head, and this being of the same colour as the 
 mortar itself, there did not seem to be the least possibility 
 of its discovery, even if the closest search should be made 
 after it. 
 
 Jack was so pleased with this expedient, that he lost no 
 time in adopting it. 
 
 He selected one of the joints in the stones just where he 
 could put his foot, so that there would be this additional 
 means of concealment. 
 
 As he fully expected, the mortar was so soft and moist 
 with the damp, that he pressed the nail in with the utmost 
 ease. 
 
 He placed his heel upon it and stood up, thus making 
 sure that the head of the nail was on a level with the 
 adjoining stones. 
 
 Jack was well pleased with what he had done, and he 
 seated himself with a contented air. 
 
 He felt now that no inconsiderable step towards accom- 
 plishing his freedom had been taken ; and he could now, 
 he thought, afford to wait with patience 
 
 While the Governor and the thief-taker continued to 
 pay such frequent visits, ho felt that it would be neither 
 more nor less than ridiculous to attempt anything, since 
 discovery would be the only result. 
 
 He had but one chance, and that was to tire them out. 
 
 He judged, and not without some reason, that they 
 would grow weary of such frequent and resultless visits 
 after a time, and so it behoved him not to do anything 
 that would at all arouso their suspicions. 
 
 If he could only lull them into a sense of false security 
 — if he could only succeed in making them believe that the 
 prospect of making his escape was so hopeless that he did 
 not intend to attempt it — all would be well. 
 
 But there was one point upon which he could not help 
 feeling a terrible amount of uneasiness. 
 
 That was as to the day which was fixed for his execu- 
 tion. 
 
 He knew Jonathan Wild would use every effort to get 
 it to take place as soon as possible ; but then the affair did 
 not rest in his hands, powerful as he was. 
 
 Indeed, Jack was by no means clear whsther he would 
 not have to take another trial, or be examined before a 
 magistrate, or something of that sort. 
 
 At any rate, he felt certain that he would have a day or 
 two's notice. 
 
 Had he been aware that the Secretary of State was not 
 in London, and that if he did not return before Sunday 
 night, his execution could not take place until a fortnight 
 afterwards, ho would not have cared a jot. 
 
 In that time he felt certain that he should be able to the 
 his foes completely. 
 
 He was the more inclined to think this, because he per- 
 ceived that Mr. Noakes was fast growing tired of h'» eoira 
 and self-imposed duty.
 
 584 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was the man he had most to fear. 
 Nevertheless, Jack did not think the prospect beforo him 
 was altogether a hopeless one. 
 
 He resolved to wait with patience, and not destroy the 
 faint chance he had by undue precipitation. 
 
 He was hungry, aqd day fast advancing, so that he 
 expected a fresh visit almost every moment. 
 He was not deceived in his expectation. 
 A short time afterwards he heard the well-known sound 
 which heralded the approach of persons to his dungeon. 
 
 Jack's ears were quick, and he could tell long before 
 they paused before the door, that on this occasion three 
 persons were approaching. 
 
 He looked curiously towards the door to ascertain who 
 they could be. 
 He was not long kept in suspense. 
 
 The door opened, and the forms of Jonathan Wild, Mr. 
 Noakes, and a keeper were revealed. 
 
 The latter carried in his hands a small quantity of rough 
 food and a pitcher of water. 
 
 Jonathan Wild strode into the cell with a triumphant 
 smile upon his face. 
 
 He was followed closely by the Governor. 
 The former having glanced at Jack, looked carefully 
 around the cell. 
 
 But the hole in the wall from whence the nail had been 
 taken being small, escaped his observation. 
 Nor did Mr. Noakes appear to notice it. 
 Satisfied with this general survey, the thief-taker now- 
 approached the prisoner i/i order to examine his fetters. 
 Jack resolved to allow him to do so unresistingly. 
 He kept his foot over the place in the floor where the 
 nail was hidden 
 
 If he resisted Wild, or in any way hindered him from 
 making the examination, he rightly thought that it would 
 merely serve to make him suspicious. 
 
 He knew very well that he had nothing to fear in the 
 shape of discovery, if the closest search was made. 
 
 He certainly had, on this occasion, adopted the wisest 
 and most prudent course he possibly could. 
 
 Jonathan looked at the fetters closely, but could dotect 
 nothing wrong, and when he had finished, it was with the 
 conviction in his mind that the irons had not been 
 touched. 
 
 In order to appear more at his ease, Jack took up the 
 bread which the turnkey had brought and began to eat it, 
 though, had he been less hungry than he was, his stomach 
 would have rebelled against it. 
 Forced to be content, Jonathan turned aside. 
 He said nothing about the Secretary of State, of course, 
 for he wished most particularly to keep from Jack's know- 
 ledge all that had occurred. 
 
 He attempted to draw Jack into a conversation, but 
 failed to do so ; and having made a few remarks of too 
 trivial and unimportant a character to be set before the 
 reader, he and his precious friend the Governor withdrew. 
 Jack was heartily glad when they had taken then- de- 
 parture, and went on with his meal in silence. 
 
 The food was bad, but it was better than none, and he 
 was under the necessity of eating something in order to 
 support nature. 
 
 The pitcher contained a small quantity of tolerably 
 clean water. 
 
 Jack, in a general way, preferred a stronger and more 
 palatable beverage, but now he had no choice, and he 
 drank out of the pitcher with avidity. 
 
 When this was done, he leaned back on the bench in as 
 comfortable a position as he could. 
 
 All he had to do was to wait for the time to pass away. 
 That day he knew was doomed to be one of inaction to 
 him. 
 
 Little, though, did he dream of the important events 
 which were destined to take place. 
 The day was a busy one. 
 
 As may be readily believed, the news of Jack Sfceppard's 
 capture and incarceration, had spread with groat rapidity 
 throughout the metropolis, and for some time the keenest 
 interest was felt in all his actions. 
 
 This is not to be wondered at, when we think that he 
 had twice done that which had hitherto been deemed an 
 Impossibility — that was, escaped from Newgato. 
 
 The greatest curiosity was felt by almost everybody to 
 h»T» a gUnce at this lad, who had done so much, and who 
 bad made himself so famous. 
 
 Those who had the power to grant orders of admission 
 to see the prisoner were literally overwhelmed with appli- 
 catiens. 
 
 As a matter of course, the titled and the rich wero 
 favoured, and to these orders in great numbers had been 
 given. 
 
 Poor Jack knew nothing about this, and little dreamed 
 that he would be kept in Newgate on purpose to be looked 
 at and talked about, as people would about some wild and 
 curious animal. 
 
 That day, however, was destined to witness the arrival 
 of a great many of these visitors. 
 
 Jack had scarcely despatched his miserable breakfast and 
 comfortably seated himself before he was disturbed by 
 footsteps and voices. 
 
 He started up in surprise. 
 
 The tones were different to any he had heard during his 
 sojourn in the prison, and he wondered what could be the 
 cause of it. 
 
 His surprise and astonishment increased when several 
 persons entered the cell. 
 
 They had manifestly come to see him, and by the rich 
 dresses worn by several he could tell they belonged to what 
 is called the upper class of society. 
 
 The following extract from the " Newgate Calendar " 
 proves this to be truth, not fiction : — 
 
 " The curiosity of the public being greatly excited by 
 his former escapes, he was visited by great numbers of 
 people of all ranks, and scarce any one left him without 
 making him a present in money ; he would have more 
 gladly received a file, a hammer, or a chisel— but the 
 utmost care was taken that none of his visitors should fur- 
 nish him with such implements." 
 
 That this was excessively distasteful to Jack Sheppard 
 the reader will easily believe. 
 
 He did not like the idea of being made a gaping stock of, 
 but he had no choice in the matter. 
 
 The money which was offered him he took readily 
 enough, because it would enable him to have better food 
 than the prison regulations allowed. 
 
 Nor did Jack feel that there was any need for him to 
 make enemies of these people, so he received them all 
 civilly enough, and answered their questions quickly and 
 pleasantly, being not without the hope that by so doing he 
 should be able to excite a popular feeling in his favour. 
 
 It served, too, to pass away the time. 
 
 The day would otherwise have hung very heavily upon 
 his hands. 
 
 These visits continued up to a late hour in the evening. 
 
 No one stayed very long, but as fast as one departed 
 another took his place. 
 
 At length, the last one departed, and then Jack found 
 himself in possession of a tolerable sum. 
 
 With reckless prodigality, he gave the turnkey a couple 
 of guineas to get him a nice supper, and told him he might 
 keep the change himself. 
 
 This made Jack a friend in a moment, and on that night 
 at least Jack fared better, so far as eating and drinking 
 were concerned, than he had done for a long time past. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXI. 
 
 DESCRIBES THE UNCOMFORTABLE MANNER IN WHICH 
 JACK SHEPPARD SPENT SUNDAY IN NEWGATE. 
 
 Jack was glad when night came. 
 
 The fetters had galled him terribly during the day, and 
 he longed for the time to come when he should be free 
 from them. 
 
 He did not dare, however, attempt to unlock his chains 
 until the Governor and his coadjutor, Jonathan Wild, had 
 paid him his last visit. 
 
 But to his surprise they came not, though he was sure 
 it was long past the hour at which they visited him on 
 the preceding evening. 
 
 What could be the meaning of it ? 
 
 Surely they had not given over and got tired already ? 
 
 No, Jack could not think that. 
 
 Something of an unusual nature had taken place. 
 
 That portion of Newgate in which Jack was situated 
 was far removed from any of the habitable parts of the 
 building.
 
 ELUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 585 
 
 BLUESKIN IS CATTURED BV JONATHAN WttD. 
 
 He was, therefore, unable to estimate with any exact- 
 ness Low late it was, but he judged from the time that 
 had elapsed since he had taken his supper that it was close 
 upon midnight. 
 
 Surely it was too late for his foes to come and visit 
 him. 
 
 He almost felt inclined to unlock his fetters, so assured 
 did lie feel that they would not come. 
 
 It L» eaay tu understand his impatience. 
 
 Presently, however, as he stooped to pick up the nail 
 with the lull intention of unfastening the irons, a thought 
 occurred to him which made him pause suddenly and 
 change his mind. 
 
 He put his fingers at the side of his nose, and shook his 
 head in a sagacious manner. 
 
 " 1 have it !" he muttered. " They have not paid me a 
 vL-it because they thought I should be thrown off my guard 
 it they did not. That is it — I feel sure that is it ! Ha, 
 ha! How lucky I thought of it! Jonathan, with all your 
 monstrous cleverness, you will be foiled again*" 
 No. 74.— Blueshn. 
 
 Jack sat down with a contented air, resolved to wait 
 with patience until his persecutors appeared. 
 
 He no longer cared about the weight of his fetters now 
 that he behoved he was about to discomfit Jonathan 
 Wild. 
 
 But plausible as the hypothesis which he had started 
 seemed, yet it was not the real solution of the mystery of 
 the non-appearance of Jonathan Wild and Mr. Noakes. 
 
 The cause which produced it was far different, and the 
 reader will find shortly, when we describe the events 
 which took place on the outside of Newgate on that 
 eventful Saturday, that the circumstances which pro- 
 duced it were more intimately connected with Jaek Shep- 
 pard than he thought they were. 
 
 It was, however, quite natural for Jack to think that 
 the reason why his old enemies had not made their accus- 
 tomed appearance was because they hoped to throw him 
 off his guard. 
 
 He leaned back, but as time passed by without the* 
 coming, he felt inclined to run the risk of taking off hi* isons. 
 
 No. 74.
 
 586 
 
 BLUESKIN : A. ROMANCE. 
 
 Lucidly, he did not. 
 
 Shortly afterwards he heard the sounds in the passage 
 which indicated their approach. 
 
 Directly afterwards, Wild and the Governor appeared. 
 
 The latter carried a torch in his hand, and, by the aid 
 of its lurid light, Jack was able to observe the expression 
 of their countenances with gr->at exactness. 
 
 He was surprised to see upou ooth 6uch an expression 
 of triumph as he had never witnessed before. 
 
 They seemed to be boiling over with it. 
 
 Jonathan Wild advanced with a mincing step. 
 
 He made that curious chuckling sound in his throat 
 which he always did when something had occurred to 
 greatly delight him. 
 
 He paused before Jack, and placed his hands behind 
 him. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" he said. 
 
 He ceased as abruptly as he had begun. 
 
 Jack Sheppard looked at him with wonder, in which 
 uneasiness was mingled. 
 
 He was utterly at a loss to think what their strange be- 
 haviour meant. 
 
 The Governor, too, who had according to custom closed 
 and locked the door, now came forward, and stood by the 
 side of Wild. 
 
 " Ha, 'ha !" he said, very much in the same manner as the 
 thief-taker. 
 
 What could they mean ? 
 
 Was their object to mystify Jack Sheppard ? 
 
 If so, they succeeded most completely. 
 
 He gazed at them in absolute wonderment. 
 
 " Are you all right, Jack ?" said Wild. " I must have a 
 look. Ha, ha ! I'm very sorry I kept you so late. But 
 no matter ! Better late than never ! I have been detained 
 by some business of importance. Oh, Jack, I have news 
 — rare news — but I would not let you know what has 
 taken place for all the world !" 
 
 " Take that, then !" said Jack, and, as he spoke, he hit 
 the thief-taker rather a sharp blow on the head with a 
 fetter. " Take that, and don't aggravate me !" 
 
 Jonathan looked up from his task of examining Jack's 
 fetters. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" he said. " Very funny, isn't it ? Why, you 
 seem quite playful, Jack. But, never mind ! Ha, ha !" 
 
 It was strange, but Wild did not resent the blow which 
 Jack had given him. 
 
 Was his exultation so great that it blinded him to every- 
 thing else ? 
 
 It would seem so, for he still chuckled in his throat as 
 he turned round to follow Mr. Noakes from the dun- 
 geon. 
 
 " Good night, my lad !" he cried. " It's rather late, and j 
 I am going home to bed. I hope you will sleep comfort- ■ 
 ably with all your jewellery upon you. Ha, ha ! Jack, 
 you little dream of what has taken place, and what has 
 caused me to be so late in visiting you to-night." 
 
 The door closed, and the bolts were 6hot into their 
 staples, and the key turned. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was alone, and in darkness. 
 
 He passed his hands in a confused manner over his 
 head as he murmured : 
 
 " What can it all mean ? What has happened ?" 
 
 But though he taxed his brain to the utmost, he was 
 unable to find any solution to that difficulty. 
 
 There was nothing that he could think of that would 
 account for Wild's extraordinary exultation. 
 
 At length he gave up the attempt in despair, and set to 
 work to unlock his fetters. 
 
 This did not take him many minutes, and he passed the 
 night in the same manner as the preceding one, though 
 his sleep was not so sound, for his brain was perplexed by 
 what had just taken place. 
 
 Before daybreak he ran up and down his cell to circu- 
 late his blood, and then put on his fetters. 
 
 It was Sunday morning, and the turnkey generally made 
 his rounds a little later on that day, so that Jack had to 
 sit a long while before any of them made their appear- 
 ance. 
 
 At length, the same man who had brought him his sup- 
 per entered, and asked him what he would like for 
 breakfast. 
 
 There was now no longer a necessity to eat dry bread 
 Mid water. 
 
 T!>auks to the munificence of his visitors on the precod 
 
 ing day, he was in a position to have what he liked to 
 eat and drink, for such a proceeding was not at that time 
 at variance with prison regulations. 
 
 On this morning, then, Jack Sheppard fared sump- 
 tuously. 
 
 Scarcely, however, had he despatched the meal than 
 the Governor, the chaplain — or ordinary, as he was called 
 — accompanied by several turnkeys, entered the cell 
 
 Jack gazed at them in astonishment. 
 
 But he was quickly made to understand what was 
 meant. 
 
 On Sunday morning all the prisoners in the gaol were 
 compelled to attend service in the chapel. 
 
 The hour had not arrived for the prisoners to be mar- 
 shalled to their pews, but it was judged expedient, as 
 Jack Sheppard was such a desperate character, to take him 
 there, strongly guarded, before the rest. 
 
 This was done. 
 
 He was unchained from the wall, and some of the 
 heavier portion of his fetters taken off, and then, hemmed 
 in by about half a dozen turnkeys, he was led towards the 
 chapel. 
 
 The Governor and the ordinary, between whom, as 
 they were kindred spirits, a very good understanding ex- 
 isted, brought up the rear. 
 
 Jack Sheppard did not attempt the least resistance. 
 
 He was well aware that it could not avail him in the 
 slightest. 
 
 He contented himself with observing as closely as he 
 could everything that he saw. 
 
 The knowledge of the precise position of his cell would 
 one day be useful to him. 
 
 Accordingly he paid the most particular attention to the 
 route by which he was taken to the chapel. 
 
 He noted every passage, and counted every step in the 
 staircase which he asceDded. 
 
 At length the door of the chapel was reached. 
 
 It was a small stone chamber, and a chill air hung 
 about it. 
 
 Jack shivered when he entered. 
 
 The silence of the grave prevailed in the place, for it 
 was quite empty. 
 
 It was dark and gloomy-looking. 
 
 Jack was led to one particular pew which had been pre- 
 pared expressly for him. 
 
 It was surrounded by boards, so that none could see 
 him, and he could see no one. 
 
 Into this box-like place he suffered his janitors to lead 
 hhn unresistingly. 
 
 Two preceded him, and two followed. 
 
 Then the door of the pew was securely locked. 
 
 Jack was now tolerably safe. 
 
 He was well secured by his fetters. 
 
 He was locked up in a place which looked more like a 
 huge box without a lid than aught else, and he was seated 
 with two strong turnkeys on each side of him. 
 
 There was no fear of his doing any mischief under these 
 circumstances. 
 
 Such a thought never entered his head. 
 
 He looked up and saw the ceiling overhead, but that was 
 the only thing that met his view. 
 
 Suddenly the tomb-like silence which prevailed was 
 broken by a low, muffled, shuffling sound. 
 
 It was the prisoners being led into the chapel. 
 
 Then another pause took place, and then service com- 
 menced. 
 
 Jack was heartily glad when it was over. 
 
 But all the other prisoners were led back to their cells 
 before he was released. 
 
 At length they came to him, and he was taken back to 
 his old quarters, and chained securely to the wall. 
 
 It was now dinner-time, and the turnkey who had taken 
 upon himself the office of purveyor brought in a capital 
 meal, to which Jack did ample justice. 
 
 He was hardly allowed to finish it, however, for the 
 same procession entered, and conducted him to the chapel. 
 
 This was repeated in the evening, and then he was 
 brought back to have his supper in comfort. 
 
 Jack had only one consolation, and that was, that he had 
 thoroughly imprinted on his mind the route to the chapel, 
 and he was convinced that if he was once outside his cell 
 he eould find his way there blindfold. 
 
 Jonathan Wild had not made his appearance during tho 
 day.
 
 blueskin : a romance. 
 
 Ml 
 
 Doubtless he thought it would be unnecessary, as he 
 ■would be so closely watched. 
 
 But there was, in addition to this, another reason, with 
 which the reader will presently be made acquainted. 
 
 At night, however — the last thing — lie came, and so did 
 the Governor. 
 
 They satisfied themselves that the fetters were all 
 right, and then left the cell. 
 
 Jack noticed that they did not stop near so long on 
 occasion, and he was pleased, for it looked as though they 
 were beginning to grow tired. 
 
 As soon as they had got out of hearing, he stooped 
 down, and with very little trouble drew the nail out of the 
 mortar. 
 
 He was now quite practised in the use of it, and had 
 the locks unfastened in a trice. 
 
 No one could possibly believe the relief it was to him to 
 be freed from his fetters even for so short a time. 
 
 Having warmed himself by moving about rapidly, tie 
 laid himself down upon the hard stone bench and com- 
 posed himself to sleep. 
 
 But it was long ere he could close his eyes. 
 
 Bis brain was too busily speculating upon the events 
 which had taken place, and those which were in futurity. 
 
 The sessions would commence on the morrow. 
 
 For this he felt thankful. 
 
 He was aware that during this time the attention of all 
 the officials would be directed to the court where the trials 
 were taking place. 
 
 The Governor would have to attend there, and so, too, 
 would Jonathan Wild, for scarcely an assizes passed with- 
 out his appearing before the judge in some capaca 
 other. 
 
 It was not likely that this particular one would prove 
 an exception to the general rule. 
 
 He would therefore be left more to himsel', and he 
 would have a better opportunity of making his escape, for 
 his captors would be compelled to relax their vigilance. 
 
 This was a pleasing anticipation for Jack ; and he had, 
 moreover, another and distinct cause for congratulation. 
 
 His execution would not take place on the morrow, 
 that was certain; for, if so, he would have received an 
 intimation to that effect from either the Governor or the 
 Ordinary. 
 
 In fact, the latter would have been compelled to do so. 
 
 That, then, was all right ; and so, with a more comfort- 
 able feeling about his heart, and his mind fall of the hope 
 that he should be able to achieve a third escape, 
 closed his eyes and dropped off into a profound sleep, from 
 which he awoke just as the first faint rays of daylight 
 were creeping into his cell. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD FDfDS IT TO HIS ADVANTAGE TO ALLOW 
 SIR JAMES TIIOIINIIILL TO PAINT HIS rOKTRAIT. 
 
 Hastily rising, he resumed his fetters, and was only jusi 
 in time, for he heard the tread of .tside while 
 
 he was in the act of concealing the nail between the 
 stones, when the door was unlocked. 
 
 He assumed his old position, however, when the turnkey 
 entered. 
 
 It was his purveyor. 
 
 A good breakfast was ordered, and when it was brought 
 in Jack asked the man to stay and share the meal with 
 him. 
 
 The turnkey looked at the tempting viands with 
 hungry eyes, but declared that he dare not, for if he did 
 he would be deprived of the privilege of waiting rpon 
 him. 
 
 "The sessions commence to-day, do they not ?" asked 
 Jack, carelessly. 
 
 " They were to have done so," replied the man. 
 
 "And" will they not ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " How is that ?" 
 
 " I can hardly tell you, but somehow or other they have 
 been put off.", 
 
 " Till when ?" 
 
 "Till Wednesday." 
 
 "Oh! That is very strange, is it not ?*' 
 
 "Mo, not vary, It depends sometimes upon whether 
 the list of prisoners is light or heavy." 
 
 " And is it lisrht this time ?" 
 
 •• Very so ! They will have plenty of time to try them 
 all if they begin on Wednesday." 
 
 This was all the information which Jack could elicit, 
 though what little there was was 
 
 He would have to defer his attempt for two days 
 longer. 
 
 After breakfast Jack sat for some time in deep tke-.:,"_: ; 
 but he was interrupted by the ope-.. Lor. 
 
 The Governor and some other figures appeared opon 
 the threshold. 
 
 Mr. Noakes bowed low at every step as he ushered these 
 persons into the cell. 
 
 Jack looked at them in surprise. 
 
 He was more astonished when he saw a youth appear 
 who carried a number of curious articles. 
 
 ' This way. Sir James !" said Mr. Noakes. ■ This way, 
 if you please! Be good enough to walk this way. Sir 
 James ! This is the cell, and there is the prisoner." 
 
 Mr. Noakes ceased bowing and speaking at the same 
 time, and pointed to Jack Sheppard with his finger. 
 
 The gentleman who had been addressed as Sir James 
 inclined his head slightly. 
 
 Jack looked at him, "and wondered what business a 
 baronet could have with him. 
 
 As he looked, however, he could not avoid feeling 
 pleased with the frank and good-tempered expression 
 which appeared upon this gentlema: .-j;ce. 
 
 •My name is Thornhill." he said — •• Sir James Thorn- 
 hill. I am a painter; and by the eoq BdflE . % of persons 
 whom I dare not name 1 have been commissioned to visit 
 you and, if you will allow me, to paint your portrait." 
 
 • Faint my portrait ?" said Jack in the utmost astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 •' Yes, paint your portrait '." interrupted the Governor. 
 
 What do yon "think of that. Jack ? There "s an honour 
 for you '." 
 
 Jack turned round, as though to show his cetrempt. 
 
 His first impulse was to refuse to sit to have his portrait 
 taken ; but a thought struck him, and he hesitated. 
 
 It might be of benefit to him. 
 
 At any rate, he had an opportunity of having a little 
 revenge upon the Governor. 
 
 S \ without actually making up his mind as to what ha 
 should do. he made a very low bow as he said: 
 
 ■ Sir James. I am much obliged to you. but if we are to 
 have anv conversation, or come to any understanding with 
 each other, you must order that meddling fellow to quit 
 the cell !" 
 
 He pointed to the Governor. 
 
 Sir James Thornhill looked about him in surprise. 
 
 The Governor fairly shook with pa-- 
 
 Indeed, his rage was so extreme that he could not for 
 the life of him utter a single word. 
 
 "I am really not in a position to give orders hero !" said 
 Sir James Thornhill, in reply to Jack " though I shoidd 
 be very glad to meet your wishes in any way I pc - 
 could. I will, however, if his presence is displeasing to 
 you. request the Governor to leave us by ourselves." 
 
 •• By no means !" said Mr. Noakes, at length fiuding his 
 voice— " bv no means ! I cannot consent to such a thing! 
 Sir James," I should bo afraid — yes, afraid to leave you in 
 the cell alone with such a desperate malefactor !" 
 
 -You need have no fear. Sir James ; I never yet broke 
 my -word, and, 1 assure job, you have nothing whatever 
 to" tear from me '." 
 
 The painter looked from one to the other in astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 " I am sorry." he said, '• to find that you are not on good 
 with each other — I do not know what to da !" 
 
 •• Bend li ft" out, the scoundrel that he is ! and we shall 
 be able to ag ree, I am certain." 
 
 \ rw, when Sir James had been commissioned to paint 
 Jack Skeppord's portrait, it was stated that in all proba- 
 bility they would have a good deal of trouble in getting 
 him to consent ; and, rather than he should fail, all pos- 
 sible concessions were to be made, short of any that would 
 contribute to his release. 
 
 Sir James was therefore perplexed. 
 
 He fancied from his manner that the prisoner was by 
 no means averse to the proceeding the only obstacle being 
 the presence of Mr. Noakes. 
 
 This was especially aggravating, because he could n>l 
 cempel the Governor toKSTTe, H he had an undoubted 
 right to be there.
 
 dS8 
 
 BLUES SIX : A UOMAXCE. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was furious. 
 
 "Scoundrel !" he cried, " I'll give you, scoundrel !" 
 " You had best stand off !" said Jack, in a threatening 
 tone of voice, and waving his fetters ominously as he 
 spoke. 
 The Governor drew back. 
 
 Sir James Thornhill touched him on the arm and 
 whispered to him earnestly. 
 What was said Jack did not know. 
 At first, however, the Governor shook his head violently, 
 and almost refused to listen to what was said to him, but 
 by degrees he calmed down, and eventually quitted the 
 cell. 
 
 As he passed Jack on his way to the door he shook his 
 fist at him in a menacing and violent manner, as he said : 
 "You shall suffer for this, you young spark, never 
 fear ! Just you wait, and you see if you won't repent ! 
 Ha, ha ! We shall see !" 
 With these words the Governor retired. 
 As soon as the door closed behind him, Jack turned 
 towards Sir James Thornhill with an unruffled counte- 
 nance. 
 
 " I am here, sir," he said, " to answer your best 
 pleasure ! What is it you desire ?" 
 
 " I wish you — not on behalf of myself, but on behalf of 
 those by whom I have been sent — to give me a sitting for 
 your portrait." 
 
 " If I consent," said Jack, " what advantage will it 
 be to me ?" 
 
 " It will answer your purpose quite as well as to refuse. 
 I am not in a position to offer you any particular ad- 
 vantages. If you consent you will please certain power- 
 ful persons, and I will do what I can for your benefit." 
 
 "Agreed, then !" said Jack, across whose mind a sudden 
 thought had glanced. " It is a bargain ! I have never 
 had my portrait painted, and I can't refuse the honour !" 
 
 The celebrated painter hardly knew what to make of 
 the tone of voice with which these words were uttered, 
 so different were they to the last, but he was not in a 
 position to question that, and he simply made a sign to 
 the youth who accompanied him to make his prepara- 
 tions. 
 
 This young man attracted a great deal of Jack's at- 
 tention. 
 
 There was something in his face which he liked, and 
 he fancied he would commiserate him in his unfortunate 
 position, 
 
 The young man was Sir James Thornhill's apprentice. 
 His name was William Hogarth. 
 The world well knows how ho excelled his master. 
 At that time Hogarth exhibited very little of that 
 genius which was to make him remembered to all poste- 
 rity. 
 
 He was nothing but a humble apprentice, and only ac- 
 quainted with the low rudiments of the art of paint- 
 ing. 
 
 Quietly and unostentatiously he unpacked the different 
 articles which he had brought with him, and Jack Shep- 
 pard saw that they consisted of an easel, a piece of blank 
 canvas stretched upon a frame, and a box containing a 
 palette and brushes and colours. 
 
 The preparations were soon made, and the painter sat 
 down to hiii task. 
 
 Jack stood quietly enough in the required position for 
 Borne time. 
 
 Sir James made rapid progress with his work, and en- 
 livened the time by conversing with Jack Sheppard, in 
 whom, in consequence of his daring achievements, the 
 painter, like all the rest of the world, felt an uncommon 
 degree of interest. 
 
 This incident of the portrait is no fiction. 
 The painting, indeed, is to this day in existence, and 
 many prints have been copied from it. 
 
 On the occasion the following stanzas appeared in the 
 British Journal of November the 28th 1724 • 
 
 " Thornhill, 'tis thine to gild with fame 
 Th' obscure, and raise the humble name; 
 To make the form elude the grave, 
 And Sheppard from oblivion save. 
 
 Tho' life, in vain, the wretch implores, 
 An' exile to tho farthest shores ; 
 Thy pencil brings a kind reprieve, 
 And bid3 the dying robber live. 
 
 This piece to latest times shall stand. 
 And show the wonders of thy hand: 
 Thus former masters grac'd their name, 
 And gave egregious robbers fame. 
 
 Apelles Alexander drew ; 
 
 Ctesar is to Aurelius due ; 
 
 Cromwell in Lily's works doth shine; 
 
 And Sheppard, Thornhill, lives in thine." 
 
 At length Sir James stated that he had done for the 
 present, but that he should pay him another visit. 
 
 " Sir James," said Jack, in an imploring voiee, " I have 
 done all that you desired, and that emboldens me to make 
 a request to you !" 
 
 " What is it ? H it is in my power I will grant it." 
 
 " I want a v 
 
 " No tool to assist you to escape !" interrupted the 
 painter. "I have pledged my most solemn word of 
 honour that I would not supply you with anything, and I 
 cannot break my word !" 
 " I am sorrv for that, Sir James — I was in hopes 
 " What ?" ' 
 
 " That you would have given me a file." 
 "A file?" 
 
 " Yes, a file, and no matter how small a one.* 
 " What good would it be to you ?" 
 " It would enable me to escape !" 
 
 " My good fellow, listen to me ! I am pleased with 
 you, and therefore I give you this piece of earnest and 
 good advice. Abandon all hopes of making your escape ! 
 Such a thing is impossible, e\\n if you had a thousand 
 files !" 
 
 " Do you think so, sir ?" 
 "I am sure of it !" 
 
 " Then where can be the harm of giving me a file ? 
 But look you, sir! Give me one, and I will lay any 
 wager you like that in a week after I receive it I am 
 free !" 
 
 " No, no ! I cannot — indeed I cannot listen to any such 
 request! I have told you I have pledged my word ! — but, 
 Hogarth?" 
 
 "Yes, Sir James!" 
 
 " You have pledged your word — have you not ?" 
 " No, sir !" 
 
 " No ? Not pledged your word ?" 
 " Certainly not, sir — no one asked me !" 
 " Oh, indeed ! Ah — well, Mr. Sheppard—" 
 " Yes, Sir James !" 
 
 " The light has quite a curious effect as it streams into 
 the cell — has it not ?" 
 
 " Very, sir !" answered Jack, who thought the great 
 painter must be a little insane. 
 
 " Ah, well, I am going to study it for a few mements, 
 and as Hogarth has not pledged his word, it is possible 
 you may be able to persuade him — you understand?" 
 
 And Sir James, having made this compromise, folded 
 his arms and looked out of the grated aperture in Jack's 
 cell with so much intentness that for a moment or two, so 
 wrapped was he in his study, that he became quite ob- 
 livious of what passed. 
 Jack understood him, and so did the apprentice. 
 But Hogarth, although he had a desire to serve Jack as 
 well as he could, was determined not to commit himself 
 too far. 
 So when Jack renewed his entreaty for a file, he said : 
 " I am very sorry to refuse you. But my duty will not 
 allow me to do such a thing — it is impossible !" 
 Jack ground his teeth with disappointment. 
 The apprentice continued : 
 
 " But I have a very bad habit of carrying files and such 
 things about me ; and I have had my pockets picked before 
 now, especially those in the skirt of my coat." 
 
 "Enough, enough!" said Jack, in a voice of deep 
 thankfulness ; " I understand you." 
 
 Hogarth walkod away, and Sir James Thornhill left the 
 window out of which he had been gazing so intently. 
 
 " A very curious effect indeed !" he said. " I shall cer- 
 tainly avail myself of it in one of my next paintings. 
 Now, Hogarth, my lad, pack up." 
 
 The apprentice obeyed ; and then the painter, turning 
 to Jack, said : 
 
 " Thanks for your sitting ! We shall be here again to- 
 morrow, and I think that will do. But my apprentice 
 carries such dangerous articles about him I You mua
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 589 
 
 upon no account attempt to pick his pockets. Good 
 morning !" 
 
 " Good morning, sir !" said Jack. " Heaven bles3 yon, 
 for I cannot ! I am a free man !" 
 
 " Hush, hush ! I should not have acted as I have if I 
 thought you stood the least chance of making your escape. 
 Good morning !" 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCLXIII. 
 
 TAKES A GLANCE AT THE PROCEEDINGS OF BLUESKIN, 
 AND EXPLAINS THE MYSTERY OP WILD'S EXTRA- 
 ORDINARY EXULTATION. 
 
 We fancy the reader wonders quite as much as Jack 
 Sheppard what was the reason of Jonathan Wild's exulta- 
 tion. 
 
 What had occurred on Saturday that had the effect oi 
 keeping him so late before he paid his accustomed visit to 
 the lonely prisoner in his cell ? 
 
 It was something of very great importance, and the last 
 thing that Jack would have thought of. 
 
 We will go back, then, and relate what has occurred. 
 
 We left Blueskin in a little public-house in Westminster, 
 where he had taken refuge after his flight from Mother 
 Robotham's. 
 
 It was an out-of-the-way place, and he felt that he 
 should be in tolerable safety, for there was little fear of 
 his pursuers being able to track him to this place. 
 
 For a long while he remained immovablo. 
 
 He was in deep thought. 
 
 There was much to perplex him. 
 
 Like Jack, he knew not what to think of the account 
 which had been given him of the departure of Edgworth 
 Bess from the infamous den in Spring Gardens. 
 
 He arrived, however, at the conclusion that there was 
 some misconception somewhere — that he had either been 
 told more or less than the truth. 
 
 That she had left he felt certain ; and having this point 
 to start from, he occupied himself with thinking what the 
 poor girl would be most likely to do if she found herself 
 at liberty to go where she listed. 
 
 This puzzled him for a long [time, but at length he 
 started and muttered : 
 
 " I have it now ! Nothing can be more simple ! The 
 thought ought to have occurred to me before. This 
 young man they spoke of she doubtless persuaded to 
 assist her to escape; and then, being anxious to learn 
 something of us, or having nowhere else to go, she would 
 make her way to Johnson's, at the Black Lion, in Drury 
 Lane. That is it, I am certain." 
 
 As the reader has already been placed in possession of 
 all the incidents which occurred to poor Edgworth Bess, 
 he will immediately be able to see how far Blueskin was 
 right, and how far he was wrong. 
 
 In the first portion of his surmise he came remaikably 
 near the truth. 
 
 In the latter part he wandered away from it. 
 
 Still, the thought having once taken hold of his mind, 
 appeared to he so plausible and natural, that it is not to 
 be wondered at that he felt so confident as he did. 
 
 He felt, too, that he could not rest until he had fully 
 satisfied himself upon the point. 
 
 To start just at present, with so many on the look-out 
 for him, was too dangerous, and so he was forced to con- 
 trol his impatience for a time. 
 
 He had chosen the most obscure corner in the room, and 
 here he resolved to sit until the heat of the chase had 
 evaporated. 
 
 It was early morning, so he had plenty of time before 
 him. 
 
 But his thoughts were not idle. 
 
 His brain was busy all the while in thinking upon the 
 best course of action he could adopt. 
 
 Time passed. 
 
 Hour after hour glided by, and still he was undis- 
 turbed. 
 
 Still he did not move. 
 
 As he had remained so long, he felt that he could not 
 do better than stay until the brief winter's day had come 
 to a close. 
 
 Then, under cover of the friendly darkness, he would 
 be able to repair to his destination. 
 
 This was a wise determination upon his part. 
 
 As soon as it was fairly dark, he rose, paid for what he 
 had had, and took his departure. 
 
 He made his way to his destination in a devious, cir- 
 cuitous manner — at one time bending towards it, and at 
 another appearing to go in a contrary direction. 
 
 But Blueskin knew his ground, and after a time he 
 emerged from a court into Drury Lane. 
 
 It was at the lower part of this thoroughfare, and not 
 far from the Black Lion, that he appeared. 
 
 Two steps took him to the door, and ho entered without 
 hesitation. 
 The same scene of revelry was going on. 
 
 Every night was just the same ; and although it was so 
 h.ng since ho had visited the place, Blueskin could detect 
 no alteration. 
 
 Passing by the door which opened into the room where 
 the revellers were assembled, he directed his steps to- 
 wards the bar. 
 
 This place was private, and very few were privileged 
 to enter it. 
 
 But Blueskin was one of the favoured number. 
 
 He placed his hand upon tho knob of the door, turned 
 it, and entered. 
 
 There was no one in the little room save an untidy, 
 dirty servant, who was doing something at the fireplace. 
 
 She was a small, thin creature, with face and hands as 
 black as a negro's. 
 
 Here eyes, too, were large and black, and she fixed 
 them steadfastly upon Blueskin as soon as he came in, 
 and rose from her knees. 
 
 He, however, paid but little attention to her. 
 
 Seating himself in a chair, he inquired for the landlord, 
 and bade her tell him he was wanted. 
 
 She departed with great alacrity, and in a moment 
 afterwards Johnson entered. 
 
 He was both surprised and pleased to see his old friend 
 Blueskin. 
 
 A long time had elapsed since they had last seen each 
 other, and their greeting was a warm one, for they had 
 been firm friends for many years. 
 
 " You can, perhaps, guess what has brought me here ?" 
 said Blueskin abruptly. 
 
 " Nay, that I cannot." 
 
 " Cannot ! Has not someone arrived here before me ?" 
 
 "Someone! Who? Speak out; I do not under- 
 stand !" 
 
 "Alas, alas!" 
 
 " Why do you cry alas ?" 
 
 " I find that I am mistaken." 
 
 " In what ? Speak freely, Blueskin. What is amiss ?" 
 
 " To be brief with you, I expected to find Edgworth 
 Bess here. Are you sure that she has not arrived ?" 
 
 " Quite sure." 
 
 Blueskin groaned. 
 
 " Then I know not what has become of her," he said 
 " Heaven help her !" 
 
 "Come, Blueskin !" said Johnson, "tell me all that haa 
 taken place. You know you can trust me, and you are 
 safe here, for Jonathan Wild has not paid me a trouble- 
 some visit for a long time." 
 
 " We have not been near the place lately." 
 
 "I suppose that is the reason. But come, tell me what 
 has happened ! It may perhaps be in my power to be 
 of assistance to you in some way or other." 
 
 " Oh, Johnson, things have all gone wrong — one mis- 
 fortune has followed another. Jack Sheppard is a pri- 
 soner in Newgate, and Edgworth Bess we have lost, and 
 know not where to look for her !" 
 
 "The first bit of news I was already in possession of; 
 but about the latter I knew nothing until a minute or two 
 ago. We must talk over this. But you look sick and 
 faint. You must have some refreshment." 
 
 " I shall be glad of a little food, Johnson. It is a long 
 time since I have taken any." 
 
 " It seems so by your looks." 
 
 " It is a long while ; and perhaps when I have had a 
 good meal I shall feel in better spirits." 
 
 " To be sure you will. Here, wait a minute, and I will 
 see to it. Martha !— Martha !" 
 
 But no Martha replied. 
 
 Johnson repeated the summons in a louder tone. 
 
 The same result. 
 
 " Curse that girl !" he said—" I'll discharge her. She 
 is never here when she is wanted !" 
 
 /
 
 590 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 Blueslrin took but little notice of this, nor did Johnson 
 appear to attach any importance to her absence. 
 
 Yet it concerned them materially, and it would have 
 been well if he had looked after her 
 
 She had not long been in his employ ; and from the 
 ecant satisfaction she gave, she was not likely to remain. 
 
 So Johnson did without her. 
 
 Little did they imagine how she was engaged at that 
 very moment. 
 
 We have said that she looked up when Blueskin 
 entered. 
 
 She fixed her large, coal-black eye3 upon his counte- 
 nance with an intentness that would have aroused his 
 suspicions had he been less pre-occupied th&fl he was. 
 
 At his bidding she told Johnson that he was wanted by 
 someone in the bar, and having watched the landlord into 
 that place, she stole to the door and placed her ear against 
 tho keyhole. 
 
 In this listening attitude she did not long remain. 
 
 With a bright glitter in her eye and an expression of 
 great satisfaction on her face, she rose and sauntered to 
 the front door of the inn. 
 
 As soon as she reached it she stood a moment, and 
 then, confident that no one within the house was watching 
 her motions, she darted off into the darkness, and was in 
 a moment lost to sight in the court on the opposite side of 
 the street, down which she hastened. 
 
 On she went through the streets, with her head un- 
 covered and her ragged apparel streaming in the wind 
 behind her. 
 
 On she went, threading her way through mazy courts 
 with marvellous facility, darting across busy thorough- 
 fares, and dodging through the ranks of the pedestrians. 
 
 Her course was almost a straight one, and at length, 
 panting and exhausted with her exertions, she emerged 
 into the Old Bailey, near the Snow Hill end. 
 
 Across this street she hurried, and round the corner of 
 the prison into Newgate Street. 
 
 Then she paused for a moment before a house. 
 
 Looked at it attentively, and finally sprang up the 
 steps. 
 
 She seized the knocker and executed a vigorous peal. 
 
 The house was Jonathan Wild's house, and the mys- 
 tery of her making her way hither will shortly be eluci- 
 dated. 
 
 The portal of the thief-taker's abode was always quickly 
 opened. 
 
 The man on the lock looked surprised when he saw who 
 it was. 
 
 He was about to close the door against her, but she 
 glided in like a shadow, and demanded an immediate in- 
 terview with Jonathan Wild. 
 
 She was told he was out. 
 
 This intelligence filled her with dismay, but she 
 implored that he might be immediately sent for. 
 
 The man hardly knew what would be best for him to 
 do, but finally he determined to send a messenger to Wild, 
 as he happened to be close at hand. 
 
 A janizary was called and sent after him. 
 
 They had not far to send, for Jonathan had only gone 
 to pay one of his frequent and accustomed visits to Jack 
 Sheppard in his cell. 
 
 The janizary who had been sent met Wild just as he 
 was leaving the prison, and at once delivered his mes- 
 sage. 
 
 Jonathan hastened homeward at an unusual speed. 
 
 Upon entering the hall he seemed to recognise the girl 
 at the first glance, and he beckoned to her to follow 
 him. 
 
 He led the way into the little office and closed the 
 door. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Wild," said the girl, gaspingly—" he's come !" 
 
 "Who's come ?" 
 
 "Blueskin!" 
 
 " Impossible !" 
 
 "No, sir— he's co:re! You told me to let you know, 
 and promised me fi\>. rounds. Give it to me — he's 
 come !" 
 
 "But when?" asked the ttuC*-taker, who seemed to 
 doubt the truth of what the girl saiu. 
 
 "A little while ago. I was a-lighting iui /!, c in the bar. 
 and he opened the door and came in. He -"sked lor 
 Johnson, and I knowed him in a minute !" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Johnson went to him, and I left them talking to each 
 other about Jack Sheppard and Edgworth Bess. Make 
 haste, Mr. Wild, for I don't think he's going to stay !" 
 
 " You shall have the five pounds, girl, if I find what 
 you have told me is correct." 
 
 Jonathan did not wait to ask any further questions, but 
 going into the hall, summoned all his janizaries about 
 him. 
 
 As for the girl, she was to follow them. 
 
 Hastily bidding his men get their weapons in readiness, 
 as they might have some stiff work to do, he proceeded to 
 arm himself. 
 
 In a few moments they were all in the street, and at a 
 rapid pace he led the way towards the Black Lion in 
 Drury Lane. 
 
 The thief-taker's heart bounded exultingly, for now he 
 felt no doubt he should accomplish the capture of Blueskin, 
 and then he should have things all in his own hands, and 
 be completely master of the situation. 
 
 Away they went, taking the nearest and most direct 
 route to their destination, preceded by the girl, who out- 
 stripped them all. 
 
 This girl was the daughter of one of Wild's janizaries, 
 and entirely devoted to his interests. 
 
 He had drilled her well into what she was to do. 
 
 She was to go to the Black Lion, and obtain a situation 
 there as a servant. 
 
 But she was to make it her especial business to watch 
 for the appearance of either Blueskin, Jack Sheppard, or 
 Edgworth Bess. 
 
 As soon as any one of them appeared at the inn, she was 
 to make her way with all possible speed to Jonathan's 
 house, and give the information, and she was to have five 
 pounds for her trouble. 
 
 This sum seemed to the poor girl to be nothing short of 
 a fortune. 
 
 She was only too delighted at having the chance to earn 
 such a sum in such a manner; and we have seen how 
 readily she had started off to give her information when 
 she had assured herself that it L was really Blueskin who 
 had entered. 
 
 She recognised his features and his general bearing, for 
 Jonathan had been exceedingly careful to give her a full 
 and perfect description of the appearance of all three of 
 those persons whose capture he so much desired to 
 effect. 
 
 CHAPTER CCOLXIV. 
 
 JONATHAN WILD MAKES A CLOSE SEARCH IN THE BLACK 
 LION, AND DISCOVERS THE HIDING-PLACE ON THE 
 STAIRS. 
 
 Without a thought that danger was so close at hand, 
 Blueskin and Johnson sat together in the bar, talking to 
 each other and endeavouring to come to some definite idea 
 as to what would be the best thing to be done. 
 
 Knowing that he could trust the landlord, Blueskin had 
 not scrupled to confide everything to him, and having done 
 so he waited with some impatience and anxiety for his 
 opinion. 
 
 It had taken Blueskin some time to relate all that had 
 taken place, and Johnson was just hesitating what to say 
 when someone entered and came to the bar counter. 
 
 It was one of Johnson's best customers, and one who 
 was under deep obligations to the landlord. 
 
 "Joe !" he said — "Joe, come here in a minute — I have 
 something important to tell you !" 
 
 There was something in the man's voice and manner 
 which made Johnson instantly suspect that something was 
 amiss. 
 
 " What is the matter, Benton ?" 
 
 " Well, it may be nothing. It just depends whether 
 you have got anyone particular in the house !" 
 
 " How so ?" 
 
 " Because if you have, look fly — that's all !" 
 
 " Speak out, man ! What is the matter ?" 
 
 " Why, Jonathan Wild, with a whole troop of his 
 rascals at his back, and led on by that black devil of a 
 servant of yours, is making straight for the place, and in 
 another m»\iute will be here !" 
 
 Biuesmii started to his feet upon receipt of this intelli- 
 gence. 
 
 " I have been betrayed !" he said.
 
 BLUESK1N: A ROMANCE. 
 
 591 
 
 " Hush !" exclaimed Johnson. " It's that little black- 
 faced imp ! If yon remember, she did not answer when I 
 called. Quick ! — follow me ! — fear nothing ! — all will be 
 well ! I will hide you where Jonathan Wild, if he was 
 ten times cleverer than he is, would never find you !" 
 
 While speaking, the landlord led the way to the stair- 
 case. 
 
 Blueskin followed him closely. 
 
 They were only just in time, for at that veiy moment 
 Wild was placing his men in various positions, where they 
 could command a good view of the house. 
 
 "lam going to hide you," said Johnson, "where I once 
 hid Jack Sheppard when the hottest pursuit was made 
 after him !" 
 
 "And he was not found ?" 
 
 " Oh no, never fear ! Do not be alarmed — you were 
 never safer than you are at this moment, and if you will 
 only secrete yourself in the place I shall point out, you 
 may laugh at Jonathan Wild and his impotent search !" 
 
 "Where is this place ?" 
 
 "Here!" 
 
 Johnson paused on the staircase. 
 
 "Here?" repeated Blueskin, with surprise. 
 
 " Yes, here !" 
 
 He stooped down as he spoke, and took hold of the top 
 of the stair in the manner we have already described in 
 the hundred and first chapter of this narrative. 
 
 Blueskin was naturally enough astounded when he saw 
 the landlord draw away the top part of the stair like a 
 Bhelf. 
 
 " Now then !" cried Johnson — " quick ! in with you ! I 
 can hear Jonathan below ! The place is lined with felt, so 
 you will find it comfortable enough, and you will have no 
 difficulty about breathing." 
 
 "Jt looks like a coffin !" 
 
 "Never mind the looks ! Get in quick, or it will be too 
 late ! When I have pushed this sliding piece of wood back 
 into its proper position you will be safe, and as soon as it 
 is prudent to do so I will come up and release you." 
 
 Blueskin made no more demur, though he rather shrank 
 from entering the coffin-like place which was disclosed. 
 
 He found, however, that the place was much more com- 
 fortable than he could have believed possible. 
 
 With all speed, Johnson pushed the sliding piece of 
 board back into its proper place, and then precipitately 
 descended the stairs, for a tremendous hubbub from below 
 reached his ears. 
 
 No sooner did he make his appearance than Jonathan 
 yelled out : 
 
 " Seize him ! Seize that man ! Clap the darbies on him 
 — he is a prisoner !" 
 
 A dozen men sprang forward to obey this order, and be- 
 fore he knew what had taken place, Johnson found him- 
 self securely handcuffed. 
 
 "By what authority do you do this ?" he asked. "Upon 
 what charge do you make me a prisoner?" 
 
 " Upon a very good charge, my friend !" 
 
 " What is it ?" 
 
 " That of harbouring felons in your house." 
 
 " Where are they ?" 
 " We shall find them !" 
 
 " You must do so before you venture to make me a pri- 
 soner !" 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. I want to save you all the 
 trouble I can, so a couple of my men will remain here to 
 take charge of you !" 
 
 Johnson knew it would be quite useless to say a word, 
 and so he submitted without further bother to his captor's 
 pleasure. 
 
 In the meantime, Jonathan Wild, at the head of nis dis- 
 orderly crew, dashed up the staircase. 
 
 His motive for this was because Johnson had descended 
 and he jumped to the conclusion that Blueskin was above, 
 and that Johnson had just come down, after putting him 
 in some place of concealment. 
 
 On the first landing he placed several of the men, and 
 continued his course upwards. 
 
 Blueskin heard their feet upon the stair beneath which 
 he lay, and his heart trembled lest they should discover 
 any difference in the feel or sound. 
 
 But all seemed well, and tha thief-taker and his band 
 made their way to the next storey. 
 Above that were the atties, and then the roof. 
 Jonathan decided upon a thorough search, and so kept 
 
 on until he came to the roof, on which he posted one of his 
 men to keep watch. 
 
 This man could signal to those who were posted in the 
 street, to whom he was clearly visible, in case anything 
 should be amiss. 
 
 The attics were closely searched in every corner, but 
 without result. 
 No trace of Blueskin could be found. 
 Here, however, another man was left, while Wild and 
 the rest descended to the next flight. 
 
 Here the same course was adopted, but their close search 
 met with no success whatever. 
 
 It never occurred to Wild to look underneath the 
 stairs. 
 
 When they descended to the first floor, Blueskin's hopes 
 revived, and he began to participate in the confidence 
 which Johnson felt. 
 
 Keluctantly, Jonathan was compelled to come down to 
 the ground floor again. 
 
 A faint smile of triumph appeared on the landlord's lips 
 when he descended. 
 But he banished it quickly. 
 Jonathan was furious, and yet he dissembled. 
 K*> called Johnson aside. 
 
 " Look here !" he said, in a low voice. "This will prove 
 a serious thing to you. I have most certain knowledge 
 that Blueskin is in the house, and I will not quit it until 
 I have found him ! I shall take you with me, and it will 
 bo the ruin of you when it turns out that you have been 
 concealing Blueskin in your house!" 
 " Jonathan Wild !" 
 
 " That's my name ; what do you want ?" 
 "Why, you can spare your breath, that's all ! Your 
 fine speeches are quite thrown away upon me ! I know 
 nothing of the man you want, and you are heartily wel- 
 come to look for him as long as you like ! When you have 
 found him, then it will be time for me to talk and make 
 terms with you !" 
 
 " Oh, will it?" said the thief-taker, in a towering passion. 
 " We will see about that, Mr. Landlord. I am certain he 
 is here ! I am certain, too, that you have concealed him 
 somewhere upstairs ; I could tell that by the smile on your 
 lips wlien I came down without finding him !" 
 
 Johnson shrugged his shoulders, but made no further 
 reply. 
 
 " Now, landlord," continued Wild, " look here ! If you 
 have got an atom of sense, you will be able to see that it 
 will answer your purpose very much better to keep in with 
 me than with this Jack Sheppard lot. Just put me on the 
 scent where I am to find Blueskin, and I will overlook all 
 the past, and will take care that you don't get into any 
 trouble over this present affair !" 
 
 " I am not afraid of doing so !" said Johnson, resolutely. 
 " I tell you again, I known nothing of the man you want. 
 If you can find him here, well and good. I know nothing 
 about it — that's all I can say !" 
 
 Jonathan Wild turned away with a diabolical curse upon 
 his lips. 
 
 He found Johnson quite impracticable. 
 He had no resource but to recommence his search. 
 Upstairs he went again, in a state of mind of which the 
 reader may be able to form some feeble idea. 
 
 He renewed his search with double strictness, but as he 
 looked everywhere except under the particular stair where 
 Blueskin was concealed, he found nothing, and we need 
 not trouble the reader with the details of his unsuccessful 
 sccircn. 
 
 At his wits' end what to do next, Wild all at once be- 
 thought himself of the girl who had brought him the in- 
 formation. 
 
 He recollected that since he entered the house he had 
 seen nothing of her, and he now despatched one of his 
 janizaries in search of her, with instructions to bring her 
 to him at once, should she be found. 
 
 While the man was absent, the thief-taker occupied him- 
 self with examining the places which the men had 
 
 SGftrctlGQ. 
 
 The janizary who had been sent after the little servant- 
 girl found her in Drury Lane, standing outside the house, 
 for she was afraid to enter. 
 
 Under the protection of this man, however, she was safe 
 from any violence which the inhabitants of the Black Lion 
 might offer to her, and she was led upstairs oa to th* 
 landing upon which the thief-taker stood.
 
 592 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 He beckoned her towards him. 
 
 " You are sure Blneskin was here when you left ?" 
 
 " Yes. Have you cot found him ?" asked the girl, fear- 
 ful that she should lose the reward. 
 
 " No, I cannot find him, though he is in the house I am 
 confident, but hidden somewhere. 
 
 The girl clapped her hands, and her face brightened. 
 
 "I have it!" she said. 
 
 ''What?— what?" 
 
 " I know where he is hidden !" 
 
 Jonathan shook her roughly. 
 
 " You — you ? Where ? Tell me where ?" 
 
 " You hurt me ! Let me go ! I won't tell you if you 
 don't !" 
 
 Wild released his hold immediately. 
 
 " Now — where ?" 
 
 " If you find him where I say, how much will you give 
 me?" 
 
 " Ten — twenty pounds !" 
 
 " Twenty pounds ?" 
 
 " Yes, but be quick and tell me !" 
 
 " You promise me twenty pounds ?" 
 
 "Yes, if you are quick, and tell me without further 
 delay, not without." 
 
 "Well, then, I heard Johnson talking once about a 
 hiding-place in the stairs." 
 
 " In the stairs ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well— well, what more ?" 
 
 " I would not rest until I had found it out." 
 
 "You did find it out?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Where is it, then ? Tell me at once, and you shall 
 have, not twenty pounds, but fifty!" 
 
 The girl gasped for breath. 
 
 " The fifth stair," she said, at length—" the fifth stair !" 
 
 Jonathan called his men around him. 
 
 " Show it me !" he said. 
 
 The girl went without hesitation to the stair with the 
 movable top, beneath which Blueskin lay. 
 
 " You must take hold of it by the edge and pull it," she 
 said. " It will slide off then !" 
 
 " Come out of the way, then !" 
 
 The girl sprang lightly up the staircase, and crouching 
 down, looked eagerly at Wild and his men. 
 
 They had heard the latter part of his communication, 
 and knew what to do. 
 
 Blueskin, too, had heard every syllable, and there he lay 
 as though in a tomb, unable to help himself in the least, 
 for the lid of the stair could not be moved by the person 
 within. 
 
 There was but one thing he could do. 
 
 He was already discovered, and as soon as the top was 
 drawn off he would spring up, and endeavour to take them 
 by surprise. 
 
 The janizaries, instructed by the girl, took hold of the 
 edge of the stair, and drew it off. 
 
 True to his purpose, Blueskin started up with a sudden- 
 ness that had in it something marvellous. 
 
 But this was exactly what the janizaries expected, and 
 they were prepared for it accordingly, and seized him 
 tightly. 
 
 A tremendous struggle ensued, the result of which was 
 that all rolled down to the landing. 
 
 Jonathan was standing here, and he now lent his aid to- 
 wards securing Blueskin. 
 
 But they had a difficult task to perform. 
 
 He was determined not to give in to his foes without a 
 most desperate struggle, although the odds were so fear- 
 fully against him. 
 
 But with so many foes he stood but a poor chance, and 
 finally he was secured. 
 
 Jonathan's face lighted up with an expression of 
 demoniac joy. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" he cried. " Caught at last ! — caught at last ! 
 Ha, ha ! I knew I should have you ! Caught at 
 last!" G 
 
 The men now forced Blueskin to descend the 
 stairs. 
 
 He was completely exhausted by his struggles, and Wild 
 stood with his drawn sword in a threatening attitude, so 
 to escape a serious wound he suffered himself to be led 
 down. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXV. 
 
 BLUESKIN 13 TAKEN TO NEWGATE BT JONATHAN WILD, 
 AND HENRY FIELDING, THE MAGISTRATE, COMMITS HIM 
 FOR TRIAL. 
 
 The thief-taker's visage expanded into a grin when he 
 thought of the triumph he had achieved over Johnson, the 
 landlord, and he went downstairs with the air and manner 
 of one who was thoroughly and completely satisfied with 
 himseif. 
 
 He blew his whistle shrilly, which would let all the men 
 know that the capture had been effected, and that it was 
 unnecessary for them to keep a look-out any longer. 
 
 It was also a signal to them to repair without delay to 
 the thief-taker, and receive further instructions from 
 him. 
 
 Johnson heard the uproar above, and guessed what had 
 taken place, and yet he could scarcely bring himself to be- 
 lieve that the hiding-place upon the security of which he 
 had prided himself so much had been discovered. 
 
 He heard the trampling of feet on the staircase, and 
 fixed his eyes steadfastly in that direction. 
 
 The first glimpse he caught of Jonathan Wild's face was 
 sufficient to convince him that what he had feared was 
 true. 
 
 "Ha, ha, Johnson !" Wild cried. "Perhaps you would 
 like to come to terms now ? But it is too late, my friend, 
 and I will take care that you pay dearly for this little 
 game !" 
 
 Then turning to his men, he continued : 
 "Keep him close prisoner; he shall accompany his 
 friend to the old stone jug !" 
 
 By this time, Blueskin, completely surrounded by men, 
 had reached the passage. 
 
 He felt that resistance was worse than useless, and 
 therefore had the good sense to remain quite still. 
 
 He trusted that a more favourable opportunity of making 
 a vigorous effort would presently occur. 
 This, however, was a very frail hope. 
 We know full well how Wild had set his heart upon 
 Blueskin's capture. 
 
 We also know that it was material to the success of his 
 plans that Blueskin should be lodged in Newgate. 
 
 Therefore we think that his chances of having any 
 opportunity afforded him are so small as to amount to 
 nothing. 
 Yet he did not despair. 
 Jonathan was determined to lose no time. 
 He ordered one of his men to call a hackney-coach, and 
 when this drew up before the door, Blueskin was com- 
 pelled to enter it. 
 Jonathan Wild got in along with him. 
 As many janizaries as could squeeze themselves into the 
 vehicle followed. 
 
 The remainder were ordered to proceed to Newgate on 
 foot, and to take Johnson thither with them, for Wild was 
 determined to punish him for concealing Blueskin in the 
 house. 
 
 The thief-taker sat opposite to his prisoner, who was 
 well secured, and so crushed by the men on either side of 
 him that he could not move a limb. 
 
 With °such a heavy load, the hackney-coach made but 
 slow progress, and they were a long time in reaching the 
 prison. 
 
 Upon their arrival, Jonathan discovered that those who 
 had come on foot had reached there first. 
 
 The intelligence was at once communicated that a very 
 important prisoner had been captured, and preparations 
 were made accordingly. 
 
 Jos-afean was certain that an attempt would now be 
 made to escape, and he redoubled his vigilance. 
 The event proved that he was perfectly correct. 
 No s»oner had he descended from the vehicle than Bluo- 
 siin made a most desperate effort to get free. 
 But it was in vain. 
 
 His foes were too numerous for a single man to contend 
 against, and he was hurried up the steps into the vestibule 
 despite his strenuous resistance. 
 Then the door was closed, and he was safe. 
 The Governoi now appeared, and when he saw who 
 stood before him his delight knew no bounds. 
 
 " Ha, ha !" he cried, as he rubbed his hands together in 
 that disagreeable manner which was peculiar to him—
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 FIGG THE PRIZEFIGHTER PATS A VISIT TO JACK SHEPPARD IN NEWGATE. 
 
 «< we shall Lave a rare scsmqii this time, Mr. Wild ! Never 
 saw Newgate honoured as it is now !" 
 
 He made a mock bow as be concluded this speech. 
 
 "We shall have a rare show at Tyburn, Mr. Noakes!" 
 said Wild, with a grin. 
 
 The Governor laughed ; and then, doubtless considering 
 that be had sufficiently indulged in this pleasantry, be 
 gave instructions for Blueskin's confinement in a strong 
 dungeon in a quarter of the prison as far removed from 
 that in which Jack Sheppard was as possibly could be. 
 
 Jonathan aud the Governor both saw him carefully 
 bestowed. 
 
 He was thoroughly searched, and every article that was 
 in his pockets taken from him. , 
 
 Then they chained him to the wall, and fettered him 
 much in the same way. 
 
 In short, nothing was left undone that would m any 
 way conduce to his safe keeping. 
 
 Then they retired, and left him to the solitude and 
 silence of his dungeon. 
 No. 75.— Blueskin. 
 
 It was agreed and strictly enjoined that Jack Sheppard 
 should be kept in absolute ignorance of all that had taken 
 place. 
 
 Upon no account was he to be informed that Blueskin 
 had been made prisoner. 
 
 That knowledge was to be kept from him to the last. 
 
 Thus it happened that Blueskin was in the chapel 
 on the Sunday along with the other prisoners without one 
 seeing the other. 
 
 We have described how Jack was placed in his pew 
 before the arrival of the rest, and taken from it after all 
 had departed. 
 
 Little did Jack dream that Blueskin was, like himself, a 
 prisoner within those walls. 
 
 He pictured him at liberty, taking measures to procure 
 his release, and watching over the safety of Edgworth 
 Bess. 
 
 What words could describe the exultation which now 
 reigned paramount in the heart of that bold, bad man, 
 Jonathan Wild? 
 
 Bio. 76.
 
 594 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 f He felt that the hour of his triumph had at length 
 \ arrived. 
 
 No longer was he to be vexed and chafed by the per- 
 | petual failure of his schemes. 
 J All was accomplished. 
 
 j Edgworth Bess was a prisoner in his own house, watched 
 ij over by his son. 
 
 i Blueskin and Jack Sheppard were confined in Newgate, 
 I and so well guarded and closely watched as to make 
 I escape a matter of impossibility. 
 1 The sessions would come on on Wednesday. 
 t Monday was the proper day ; but this postponement 
 ! suited Jonathan exactly. 
 
 | It enabled him to get a case ready against Blueskin, and 
 I havo him tried in readiness for the next hanging-day, 
 | when he should have the inexpressible gratification of 6ee- 
 $ ing both swing together at Tyburn. 
 i In the meantime, however, he had much to do. 
 
 When he paid Jack his last visit, it was with difficulty 
 that ho restrained himself from triumphing over him by 
 telling him how affairs stood ; but he had the prudence to 
 vanquish this inclination. 
 
 He went home, and on the way felicitated himself that 
 at length all was accomplished. 
 Nay, not all. 
 
 He recollected that all was not done. 
 There were the papers. 
 
 Those papers of which he had gained possession with 
 so much difficulty, and which had disappeared in so mys- 
 terious a manner. 
 
 He woidd have to recover those ; but he hoped that ere 
 long they would turn up. 
 
 Little did he think that his own hopeful son had con- 
 cealed them in order to answer his own purposes. 
 
 Somehow, after their last interview, Jonathan felt in- 
 clined to place confidence in his son. 
 
 He was indeed completely deceived by his well-acted 
 indignation. 
 
 His first care upon reaching home was to ascertain 
 whether Edgworth Bess was safe. 
 
 He was answered in the affirmative, so far as her being 
 in his power and in the house was concerned ; but she was 
 suffering from a raging fever which had seized upon her, 
 brought on, it seemed, by excitement and leaving her 
 room too soon. 
 
 About this Jonathan cared little when Mr. Snoxall told 
 him that there was no immediate danger. 
 
 He had made up his mind not to trouble himself with 
 her until he had seen Blueskin and Jack Sheppard dis- 
 posed of. 
 
 Then he should be quite free from all fear of interrup- 
 tion, which would be much better than taking any active 
 steps while they were alive. 
 
 But this close contemplation of success did not make 
 Wild feel so comfortable as he thought it would. 
 
 The many failures and reverses he had met with made 
 him fearful *tkhat even this time he was going to be dis- 
 ajspointa;; 
 
 Whetiaei ais forebodings were groundless, time abne 
 can show 
 
 On the f&onday morning when Jack Sheppard had his 
 extraordinary interview with Sir James Thornhill, Blue- 
 skin was taken before a magistrate. 
 
 It so happened that this magistrate was Henry Field- 
 ing, who lives for ever in his novels. 
 
 He had a most invincible dislike to Jonathan Wild and 
 he was never so pleased as when he could check or thwart 
 him in some of his villanies. 
 
 On the present occasion, however, no opportunity offered 
 itself. 
 
 He well knew that for a long time past wan-ants had 
 been issued for the apprehension of Blueskin, and a large 
 reward had been offered by the Government for his cap- 
 ture. 
 
 When, therefore, Jonathan brought him up and pre- 
 ferred his charge, and some other persons came forward 
 and swore to his identity, the worthy magistrate '"-uld do 
 ao more than commit him to take his trial ai the next 
 sessions. 
 
 This was all Jonathan Wild required. 
 This took place on Monday. 
 
 The sessions had been postponed till Wednesday, 60 
 there would be no delay in bringing Blue-skin to trial. 
 Wild of course counted upon sentence of death being 
 
 passed upon him, and in this calculation he was unques- 
 tionably correct. 
 
 When this little preliminary step had been taken, W ild 
 felt somewhat easier in his mind. 
 
 Still he was continually haunted by the dread that at 
 the last moment something would go wrong, and affairs 
 would resume their wonted aspect. 
 
 Every care was taken that Blueskin should be led back 
 to Newgate in safety, and he was at length lodged in his 
 cell and heavily ironed as before. 
 
 Since his imprisonment a feeling of deep dejection had 
 come over Blueskin. 
 
 He could not shake it off, though he strove hard to 
 do so. 
 
 His mind was weighed down with a presentiment that all 
 was over — that Jonathan Wild would triumph. 
 
 He was a helpless prisoner, so closely watched that it 
 made the bare whisper of escape a mockery. 
 
 His comrade Jack was powerless to aid him, for he was 
 already in the same predicament. 
 
 Then there was poor Edgworth Bess, he knew not 
 where, but more likely in the power of the thief-taker 
 than anywhere else. 
 
 Having such thoughts as these, it is not to be won- 
 dered at that Blueskin should give way to hopeless 
 despair. 
 
 Indeed, such a change came over him as would scarcely 
 be credited by anyone, and those who knew him best 
 would almost fail to recognise him. 
 
 He could see no way out of his difficulty. 
 
 Over and over again he blamed himself for relying upon 
 the hiding-place in the stairs as he had, and yet what 
 could he have done better ? 
 
 Then he thought of Johnson, and was grieved to think 
 of the trouble which he had brought upon him, for the 
 offence with which he was charged was one that was 
 heavily punished. 
 
 It will bo seen, then, that, let him tarn his thoughts in 
 whichsoever direction he would, he v/as unable to perceive 
 a single gleam of hope. 
 
 The time was short, too, before his trial came on, and 
 with the result of it he was perfectly well acquainted. 
 
 He knew that nothing whatever would get him off — 
 that not even the ablest counsel could procure any com- 
 mutation of his sentence. 
 
 He resolved, therefore, to employ no one, but to go into 
 court undefended. 
 
 Such a course would answer his purpose quite as well. 
 
 With his head bowed down upon his knees, and in a 
 state of utter dejection, Blueskin passed the time which 
 intervened between his committal and the morning of his 
 trial. 
 
 Had it not been for the great influence of Jonathan 
 Wild in the proper quarter, and the strenuous exertions 
 which he made, the trial would not havo taken place 
 until next session ; but he gave such an account of the 
 danger of putting it off, and the opportunities that it 
 would allow the prisoner of making his escape, that he 
 gained his point, and Blueskin's trial was appointed to 
 take place on the Friday, which was the last day, for on 
 this occasion the calendar was lighter than it had been 
 known to be for a long time. 
 
 Such, then, being Blueskin's unfortunate position, we 
 will turn our thoughts to Jack Sheppard, who never for 
 one moment dreamt that his old comrade was so close to 
 him. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXVI. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD PICKS HOGARTH'S POCKET, AND MAKES 
 AN APPOINTMENT WITH SIR JAMES THORNHILL. 
 
 After the departure of Sir James Thornhill and his 
 apprentice, William Hogarth, Jack Sheppard 's heart felt 
 much lighter than it had done since the moment of his 
 capture. 
 
 He now saw before him the chance of achieving his 
 freedom, for it was no lightly-made assertion to which he 
 had given utterance when he said he should be free so 
 soon. 
 
 There was no mistaking the meaning of his two visitors, 
 though each strove to conceal it as much as possible. 
 
 Sir James having given his word that he would not 
 furnish the prisoner with any weapon by which he inigUf
 
 BUTESKIN: A. RCWANCB. 
 
 595 
 
 effect his escape, of course incapacitated him from yielding 
 to Jack's entreaties. 
 
 But he gave a hint to his apprentice, which was acted 
 upon while he pretended to be particularly engaged in 
 noting the effect of light and shade through the window 
 in the cell. 
 
 Hogarth had shown himself not less cautious than his 
 master, but yet Jack understood him. 
 
 When they were gone, he 'clasped his hands together 
 joyfully, as he murmured : 
 
 " Oh, yes, yes ; all will yet be well, in spite of the 
 vigilance of my keepers ! I shall achieve a third escape 
 from Newgate ! I think even now an abatement in their 
 watchfulness is perceptible." 
 
 He sank down upon his seat. 
 
 "I must watch every opportunity," he continued. 
 41 To-morrow I shall receive a file ; that will be Tuesday. 
 On Wednesday the sessions will commence. I shall then 
 be troubled less with the company of the Governor, for he 
 will have to attend in court all day. The turnkeys, too, 
 will have extra duty ; and even Jonathan Wild — the man 
 I have to fear above all the rest — some portion ©f his 
 time will be taken up at the assizes, for there never was a 
 sessions yet when he was not prosecutor or witness 
 against something. All things conspire in my favour. 
 That will be the time, and I fear not I shall accomplish 
 my design ! The grand thing will be to get rid of these 
 perpetual visits. While they continue, I shall have no 
 chance at all !" 
 
 With these and a thousand other thoughts did Jack 
 Sheppard occupy himself during the day. 
 
 He was visited as usual by Jonathan and the Governor, 
 and a crowd of people who had been actuated by their 
 curiosity to oome and gaze upon him. 
 
 But this scene need not to be elaborated. 
 
 They came and gazed upon the prisoner, and left him 
 money, and so the time passed away. 
 
 It certainly had the effect of causing the day to seem 
 less tedious to Jack, who, nevertheless, felt dreadfully in- 
 patient for the morrow to come. 
 
 At length the last visitor took his leave ; darkness filled 
 the cell, and the prisoner was left alone. 
 
 When the time arrived for it to be safe to do sc, Jack 
 removed his fetters by the aid of the cleverly-concealed 
 nail, and slept in tolerable comfort — certainly with more 
 than his captors were willing that he should enjoy. 
 
 Then the morning came, which he so anxiously ex- 
 pected. 
 
 Long before the time he seated himself on his stone 
 bench, and waited for the arrival of the painter. 
 
 At length he came, and it was with difficulty Jack could 
 conceal from the observation of the turnkey the joy which 
 his advent occasioned. 
 
 Sir James spoke kindly and freely to 'Jack, for, if the 
 truth must be told, he felt some fear of him, and above all 
 things he wished to conciliate him as much as possible. 
 
 Willingly enough Jack stood in the desired attitude, 
 and the painter went on with his work. 
 
 About what had taken place on the preceding day not a 
 word was said, but Jack kept a sharp look-out upon the 
 apprentice Hogarth, in whose coat-pocket, beyond all 
 doubt, was the little tool which he so desired to possess. 
 
 But the youth kept purposely away from Jack, for it was 
 his intention not to allow Jack to put his hand into his 
 pocket until the very last moment. 
 
 Jack chafed at this, for he felt that could he but have 
 felt the file in his hand he would have been content. 
 
 Still, he did not like to say_a word about it, as both bis 
 yisitors remained silent. 
 
 But he fretted and fumed exceedingly. 
 
 This sitting was a much longer one than that on the 
 preceding day, for Sir James wished to avoid a third visit 
 to the prison. 
 
 He worked away, however, with right good will, and 
 presently Jack had the satisfaction of hearing him 
 say: 
 
 " I have done ! Thank you — that will do ! I can fill 
 up the remainder of the portrait, without difficulty, from 
 memory alone. What do you think of it — is it a good 
 portrait ?" 
 
 He turned the canvas as he spoke, and Jack for the first 
 time had a glance a; ms wuiL 
 
 The face was all that could be said to be finished. 
 
 This, however, was all that Jack looked upon, and he 
 
 was absolutely astounded with the fidelity of the likeness. 
 
 "You are quite satisfied, then ?" said Sir James. 
 
 " Quite !" 
 
 " I am glad of that ! I wish you could see it when 
 finished." 
 
 "Do you, sir?" 
 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 " Then I'll have a look at it',!" 
 
 Sir James attempted to smile. 
 
 " When will it be finished ?" continued Jack, speaking 
 in a voice of the utmost seriousness. 
 
 " In a few days." 
 
 "Let me see! To-day is Tuesday. Will it bo finished 
 by next Monday?" 
 
 " Oh, before then!" 
 
 " And where will it be, sir ?" 
 
 " That I cannot tell. What imports it that you should 
 know ?" 
 
 " Perhaps more than you imagine. Next Monday, you 
 say, the portrait will be finished?" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 " And will it be at your house ?" 
 
 " In all probability." 
 
 " Then, Sir James, I will take the liberty of calling upon 
 you next Monday evening, some time between sunset and 
 midnight, if you will be kind enough to be at homo and 
 show me the portrait!" 
 
 " Pho, pho ! You must not think of such a thing 
 Occupy your mind with more serious matters !" 
 
 " Will you be at home, Sir James, next Monday even 
 ing — and if I call, will you show me the portrait?" 
 
 " //"you call, I will !" 
 
 " You lay adoubtful emphasis upon your promise ; but I 
 assure you, sir, that without fail I shall bo there !" 
 
 Sir James looked rather uncomfortable, but still he fi It 
 that he could say nothing further. 
 
 " Of course," continued Jack, " I speak " 
 
 Sir James held up his hand. 
 
 "Not a word further," he said, in a low voice. "1 
 know what you are about to say, but for my sake pray bo 
 silent — we may be overheard !" 
 
 This was enough. 
 
 Jack was silent immediately. 
 
 " All right, sir !" he added, after a pause. " Never fear, 
 sir, I shall calk for I am curious to a degree to see my 
 portrait when it is finished." 
 
 While this brief and hurried conversation had been 
 taking place, Hogarth had been busily employed in pack- 
 ing up the different articles, and having finished, he 
 stooped down to the box of colours on the floor, as though 
 about to pick it up. 
 
 He stooped down close ts Jack's feet, and did so in such 
 a manner that one of the pockets in his coat gaped 
 open. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was quick-witted enough to perfectly 
 understand what was meant. 
 
 In an instant ho dived his hand into the pocket so 
 temptingly open. 
 
 It contained but one article, and this he seized. 
 
 After glancing at it for a moment, he transferred it to 
 his own pecket. 
 
 It was a small and beautifully-made steel file, with 
 teeth which looked as though they would cut through the 
 hardest iron like a saw will cut through wood. 
 
 As soon as Hogarth felt that Jack had taken the file, he 
 rose to his feet with the box in his hand. 
 
 " I have had my pockets picked before now, Sir James," 
 he said, "when they contained very valuable articles 
 indeed ; but you cannot help having things taken off you 
 sometimes — can you J 1 " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " It is not my fault if some one else takes anything out 
 of my pocket. Surely I am not to blame !" 
 
 "No one would think of blaming you for a moment if 
 you were unfortunate enough to have your pocket 
 picked." 
 
 " I thought not, sir." 
 
 "Come, my lad, we will be off !" 
 
 " I am quite ready, sir." 
 
 "Good-bye, Jack," said Sir James. "I am much 
 obliged to you for giving me such a patient sitting." 
 
 " Oh, don't mention it, sir— pray don't mention it ! I 
 won't wish you good-bye!" 
 
 "Why not?"
 
 596 
 
 BLUE=KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 " I hope, sir, you have not forgotten next Monday night 
 already ?" 
 
 " Oh no, I have not forgotten it — but " 
 
 " Never doubt it, sir — 1 shall come, and shall rely upon 
 your honour not to hand me over to the police." 
 
 "You have nothing to fear on that account, I can 
 assure you ; but I think you had better give up all hopes 
 of such a thing." 
 
 "Pho, pho! I shall be free long before then, but I 
 shall have some little matters to attend to first, and I 
 wanted to appoint a time when I should be perfectly at 
 leisure." 
 
 Sir James looked at Jack Sheppard with the greatest 
 amazement depicted upon his countenance. 
 
 J ark had spoken in such a cool, calm tone that he was 
 absolutely staggered, and he looked round him once or 
 twice to make sure that he was really in Newgate, and 
 that what was taking place was not a dream. 
 
 "Well, well, Jack," he said, "you have done some 
 wonderful tilings in your short life, I admit — I should not 
 have painted your portrait if you had not ; but if you 
 escape from Newgate this time, you will outdo all that you 
 have ever done before." 
 
 " I shall do it. Sir James. I am one not given to empty 
 boasting." 
 
 "I will not say good-bye, then," said the painter. 
 
 " Certainly not ; for as sure as I now say it, I shall see 
 you on Monday !" 
 
 Sir James and his apprentice now withdrew ; but before 
 they left the cell, Jack was careful to conceal the file where 
 he had concealed the nail — that is to say, in the soft 
 mortar between the stones with which the floor of his 
 dungeon was paved. 
 
 He pushed it in in a slanting direction, and in so clever 
 a manner as to defy detection. 
 
 It was well he took this precaution, for just after Sir 
 James and his apprentice had quitted the cell, Jonathan 
 Wild and the Governor entered. 
 
 The former looked sharply and suspiciously about him 
 as he said : 
 
 "I'll be d — d if I like this portrait-painting job, and I 
 am heartily glad it's over !" 
 
 "So ami." 
 
 " We will search the cell." 
 
 " I do not suspect Sir James," said the Governor. " He 
 is an upright, honourable man, and he gave me his solemn 
 word of honour that he would not supply the prisoner 
 with anything." 
 
 "Bah!" 
 
 " You would not take his word ?" 
 
 " No, nor his oath !" 
 
 As he spoke, Jonathan advanced towards Jack Shep- 
 pard, and rapidly examined him from head to foot. 
 
 He searched in all his pockets and felt all his gar- 
 ments. 
 
 Of course, he found nothing. 
 
 Then ho looked closely all about the stone bench and 
 under it, and everywhere, but the thought that they were 
 concealed in the mortar between the stones never occurred 
 to him, nor was it likely to do so, for he would havo 
 thought naturally enough that the mortar was hard and 
 impracticable for such a purpose. 
 
 With what anxiety Jack Sheppard awaited the result of 
 this close search the reader may perchance imagine. 
 
 He trembled once or twice when Jonathan actually 
 passed his hand over the spot where his treasures were 
 concealed. 
 
 Should he be bereft of them, it] would be good-bye to all 
 hopes of escape. 
 
 But they remained undiscovered. 
 
 Jonathan at length rose to his feet, satisfied that 
 the prisoner was not only unpossessed of any instrument, 
 but also that his fetters had not been tampered with in the 
 least. 
 
 In a false state of security, then, he left the cell in com- 
 pany with his associate. 
 
 Jack never moved for several minutes after they had 
 gone, for he thought they might be quite cunning enough 
 to return abruptly, and look in again. 
 
 But this apprehension was a groundless one, and after 
 waiting long enough to have no fears of an intrusion, 
 Jack rubbed his hands together briskly, and exhibited 
 other symptoms of delight and satisfaction. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXVII. 
 
 FIGG, THE PRIZE-FIGIITER, PAYS A VISIT TO JACK IN HIS 
 CELL, AND GIVES HOI THE PARTICULARS OF A SINGU- 
 LAR WAGER. 
 
 Never was any poor human being so sorely tempted as 
 Jack Sheppard was. 
 
 His joy quickly subsided, and being now left alone, he 
 fixed his eyes on the spot where his treasures were de- 
 posited, and strove to content himself by looking at them 
 merely. 
 
 He made up his mind that, in order to guard against 
 any danger of discovery, he would not disturb the file 
 until he had occasion to use it ; but he soon found that to 
 keep his determination required all the strength of his 
 miud. 
 
 His fingers itched for it ; and every now and then he 
 would stoop down, and then, suddenly recollecting him- 
 self, would start up. 
 
 He fancied that if he could only hold the precious file 
 in his hand — if he could only turn it over and over and ex- 
 amine it — if he could only feel its sharp teeth against the 
 brawn of his thumb — ho should be content; or, at 
 least, more content than ho could bo by simply eyeing, 
 not it, but the mortar beneath which it was buried. 
 . But he strove to overcome this inclination, for he 
 thought, and truly, that if he gave way thus far he would 
 not be content until ho had made a trial of its power and 
 sharpness on his fetters. 
 
 This would have never done, for detection would have 
 been tho result ; so wisely he exercised all the forbearance 
 he could, and combated against the inclination as much 
 as possible. 
 
 He succeeded, and the file remained in the mortar 
 between the stones undisturbed. 
 
 In spite of all, Jack Sheppard's heart was light. 
 
 When he leaned back on the stone bench and glanced 
 around the cell, it was in a contemptuous manner, as 
 though he despised the power of those strong stone walls 
 to keep him there a prisoner. 
 
 And yet how slight and insignificant appeared the 
 means which he possessed with which to release himself. 
 
 A file and a nail ! 
 
 Those were all. 
 
 Two small, insignificant pieces of iron. 
 
 And yet he did not doubt that, skilfully used, they 
 would enable him to pierce through the iron doors and 
 massive walls. 
 
 He relied upon his own cleverness to succeed, including 
 the negligence of his enemies. 
 
 But he would have to wait, and he thought incessantly 
 upon the time when he should commence his operations. 
 
 It was a long time before he could decide upon the hour 
 which would be best for him to commence. 
 
 He made up his mind finally that, if no unforeseen cir- 
 cumstance occurred, Friday night should be the time. 
 
 During the day, the men would be much engaged in 
 attending at the court, and ho would be able to make con- 
 siderable progress in filing through his fetters before 
 night came. 
 
 There was the risk that what he had done would be 
 discovered when he was examined the last thing at night ; 
 but he believed he should be able to conceal the places 
 where he had been at work by filling them up with that 
 which, with great pains and patience, he collected off the 
 floor of the dungeon. 
 
 It was black and sticky, and being rubbed into the 
 places where the file had been, would not only conceal the 
 brightness, but fill it up ; while, from the colour of this 
 mud being similar in tint to the iron of which his fetters 
 were composed, he doubted not that he should be able to 
 pass an examination. 
 
 Had he known what was destined to take place on the 
 Friday upon which he so calculated, he would have spared 
 himself the trouble. 
 
 The greater part of the short winter's day had been 
 taken up by Sir James Thornhill, and tho night rapidly 
 came on. 
 
 This was Tuesday, and Jack comforted himself with 
 the assurance that in two days afterwards he should be 
 free. 
 
 He wondered many times what had become of Blueskin. 
 
 He began to think it strango that ho had not heard or 
 seen anything of him.
 
 BUTESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 507 
 
 He quite thought that his old comrade would have 
 opened up some means of communication, but he was dis- 
 appointed. 
 
 He could only account for it by supposing that Blueskin 
 was fully occupied in looking after his own safety. 
 
 That he, too, was an inmate of the huge prison never 
 once occurred to him. 
 
 If he had known, the whole course of his proceedings 
 would have been altered. 
 
 At any risk he would have made his way first to his 
 comrade's cell, and then have escaped in company with 
 his old friend. 
 
 But of Blueskin's presence in Newgate, Jack was 
 studiously kept ignorant, and nothing but some accident 
 would make him acquainted with it. *» 
 
 As usual, the thief-taker and the Governor paid him a 
 last visit, but nothing particular took place ; and when he 
 jmlged they had been gone long enough, Jack took the 
 nail and unlocked his fetters. 
 
 This was a wonderful relief to him, and indeed we may 
 boldly affirm that, had he not succeeded in this, he would 
 have failed in the remainder. 
 
 The mere fact of his having his limbs cramped up in 
 one position for such a longth of time would have so 
 crippled him that he would never have been able to 
 stir. 
 
 We must not forget either to take into calculation the 
 effects which the exercise ho daily took produced upon his 
 constitution. 
 
 Every moming before he resumed his fetters he circu- 
 lated his blood and exercised his limbs by moving round 
 and round and up and down his cell until perspiration 
 streamed from every pore. 
 
 Then he had — thanks to the munificence of his curious 
 visitors — lived on the best of everything, so that he was 
 in first-rate bodily condition, and equal to the execution 
 of almost any feat, no matter how daring. 
 
 On the Wednesday morning the sessions began, and 
 Jack was careful to observe what difference this made in 
 the closeness of the attentions of the gaolers. 
 
 To his dismay, he discovered that they were more vigi- 
 lant than ever. 
 
 This filled him with apprehension for 6ome time, until 
 the thought struck him that there was a simple reason 
 for it. 
 
 His keepers would no doubt think that he would try to 
 take some advantage of this particular time. 
 
 If so, all Jack had to do was to strive to throw them off 
 their guard, and the way in which he behaved was emi- 
 nently calculated to succeed in doing this. 
 
 Every time he was visited he was found sitting deject- 
 edly upon the stone bench, with his arms folded. 
 
 Jack perceived the effects of this on the succeeding 
 day. 
 
 He was not visited near so frequently, and during the 
 day the intervals between each visit grew longer and 
 longer. 
 
 Over this he exulted greatly, but he allowed no sign of 
 it to be perceptible. 
 
 This encouraged him, too, to wait with patience, and not 
 commence his operations until the morrow, as he had at 
 first determined. 
 
 On Thursday, Jack had several visitors, and among 
 them was the celebrated prize-fighter, Mr. Figg. 
 
 He was curious to a degree to see Jack ; and, not with- 
 I out same trouble, succeeded in getting an order to admit 
 him. 
 
 He was closely searched, for it was fancied that such a 
 one would be likely to convey the prisoner some- 
 thing. 
 
 But though the whole of his clothing was rigidly 
 examined, nothing was found. 
 
 He was then allowed to enter the cell. 
 
 The first glimpse he caught of Jack Sheppard — whose 
 person was totally unknown to him — elicited his utmost 
 admiration. 
 
 Stopping short a few paces from the door, he ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 "Impossible! Here is some mistake. This stripling, 
 with no more strength in his whole body than many have 
 in their hands, cannot possibly have twice effected an 
 escape from Newgate !" 
 
 " It's all right !" said the turnkey, as he closed the 
 door. 
 
 For some time Figg stood still with amazement, gtzing 
 upon Jack. 
 
 He had doubtless expected to behold some second Her- 
 cules, and not a slim-looking youth as Jack appeared. 
 
 In comparison to him, the prize-fighter looked a giant. 
 
 Eecovering from his astonishment, he came forward and 
 shook Jack by the hand. 
 
 But Sheppard noticed that Figg held out his left hand, 
 while he kept his right rather oddly closed. 
 
 Jack knew the prize-fighter by sight, having seen him 
 many times, and therefore he responded freely enough to 
 his friendly greeting. 
 
 " I am glad to make your acquaintance, Jack," said Figg, 
 as he worked his right hand about in a curious manner 
 — "I am very glad to see you, though it is in such a 
 place." 
 
 " I have not many comforts," replied Jack ; " but still 
 I might be worse off." 
 
 " Very true !" said Figg, as he made a strange choking 
 sound in his throat — " you might be " 
 
 " Oh, don't mention it !" 
 
 " I won't, if you don't like it ; but, Jack ?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " I daresay you wonder what has brought me hero to 
 see you ?" 
 
 "Tho same motive that has brought others, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 " Do you mean mere curiosity ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "There you are out, Jack; and you would wonder 
 more if you knew what trouble it has cost me — to say 
 nothing of expense — to get an order to come and see 
 you." 
 
 " Indeed !" 
 
 " Yes — and there was the unpleasantness of being over- 
 hauled by a couple of d — d turnkeys !" 
 
 " You were searched, then ?" 
 
 " Yes, I was searched," replied tho prize-fighter, 
 with a grin. " But, Jack, my boy, I won't keep you any 
 longer m suspense — I will toll you what has really brought 
 me here." 
 
 " I am curious to hear it." 
 
 "Well, come a little closer, for I would not be over- 
 heard for the world !" 
 
 The prize-fighter then said, in a whisper : 
 
 " Jack, I have made a bet about you." 
 
 "A bet about me?" 
 
 " Yes, and a heavy one too, I can tell you !" 
 
 " In what manner ?" 
 
 " That I will toll you in a moment. Hush ! Let me 
 speak softly ! The other night I was in company with 
 some friends, and the conversation turned upon you, Jack, 
 and your dexterous exploits." 
 
 " I suppose I am the common talk of all London ?" 
 
 " You are, and no mistake !" 
 
 " I thought so." 
 
 " Never mind that, Jack ! You ought to feel proud. 
 However, that's neither here nor there. We wore talking 
 about what you had done, and wondering what tools 
 you had for your purpose. Some went so far as to say 
 you had none at all." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " I did not believe that ; but I laid a wager of twenty 
 guineas that if a file were given you, in twenty-four hours 
 afterwards you would be free." 
 
 " Twenty-four hours after the file was given me?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "And when should I have the file ?" 
 
 " Now ; here it is. Look !" 
 
 Figg opened his right hand, which he had hitherto kept 
 so mysteriously closed, and showed that he had the article 
 he spoke of cunningly concealed in it. 
 
 Jack shook his head when he saw it. 
 
 "Why do you shake your head, Jack?" 
 
 " I am sorry you have laid the wager." 
 
 "Why? Do you mean to say that if you have a file 
 given you you cannot escape ?" 
 
 " Well, not exactly that." 
 
 " What is it, then ?" 
 
 " You will lose your wager if you have stipulated that 1 
 shall be free twenty-four hours after I receive it." 
 
 " Why ? Is the time too short ?" 
 
 "No, the time is long enough." 
 
 " What on earth do you mean, then ?"
 
 69S 
 
 BLUESKIK: A HOMANCE. 
 
 Jack hesitated. 
 
 Cut presently he eaM: 
 
 " Well, I will trust you. I have already arranged to 
 escape to-morrow night." 
 
 " To-morrow night?" 
 
 " Yes, Friday night. So you see that if you give me 
 the file now you will lose your wager. If you give it to 
 me to-morrow you will win it." 
 
 " Are you sure, Jack?" 
 
 " Certain !" 
 
 " Then I can get over the difficulty — I can make it all 
 right. Here, take the file." 
 
 " Very good, sir — I am obliged to you for it. It will be 
 useful, doubtless ; but I should have escaped without it." 
 
 " You are a wonderful fellow, Jack !" 
 
 " You will keep what I have told you a secret ?" 
 
 " Oh, depend upon it ! If you do not succeed in your 
 attempt, I shall lose twenty guineas by it." 
 
 " Oh— ah, of course ! It is to your advantage to keep 
 it a secret." 
 
 "Just so. And now, Jack, I will bo off. Whatever 
 you do, take care of the file, and be sure you do not fail to 
 escape the time you mention." 
 
 " On Saturday morning I shall be as free as you." 
 
 "Well, if you are, you deserve to be let alone. You 
 are in the very heart of Newgate, you are loaded with 
 chains twice your own weight, and you are watched closely 
 by a score of people ; and all I say is, if you can get out 
 without any more aid than I have just given you, you 
 will deserve to retain you liberty for your cleverness." 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXVIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD IS PUZZLED AND PERPLEXED BV WILD'S 
 ABSENCE, BUT NEVERTHELESS SETS TO WORK IN GOOD 
 EARNEST TO MAKE HIS ESCAPE. 
 
 "I wish I could persuade those who have power in 
 these matters to think the same as you do," said Jack, with 
 a sigh. 
 
 " Well, I really think you will deserve your liberty for 
 your cleverness. How you are going to manage it, I don't 
 know !" 
 
 " That I must keep to myself." 
 
 "Well, Jack, I don't want to pry into your sscrets. 
 Good-bye, my boy ! You may depend upon it I shall be 
 mum." 
 
 " Pray do ! If the turnkeys were to have the least 
 suspicions of what I intend, you would lose your 
 wager." 
 
 "All right! I'll keep dark, never fear !" 
 
 "I can trust you." 
 
 Some more words passed between them, and then, with 
 a cordial shake of the hand, they separated. 
 
 As soon as he had gone, Jack hastened to bury the 
 second file close to the other one. 
 
 When he had done, he looked up, and murmured : 
 
 " Surely Fortune smiles upon me ! I shall make myescape 
 this time despite my foes. This second file makes all 
 secure, for if the first fails me, I can turn to that. Yes, 
 yes, I shall be free !" 
 
 Jack continually repeated the words, "I shall be free !" 
 and it seemed as though the mere act of his doing so gave 
 him additional confidence. 
 
 He had now little or no fear that he should fail in his 
 great design. 
 
 As he had expected at first, he was troubled less and 
 less with the turnkeys, who were occupied at the court, 
 from which place indeed they could not be spared. 
 
 Then on Friday, that being the last and busiest day, he 
 counted upon being more free from them still. 
 
 Jack's heart was now light enough, and the time passed 
 quickly by. 
 
 When night came, he undid his fetters as usual, but 
 while he did so he made the reflection that the next time 
 he should tal o them off for good. 
 
 As might 1 o o-cpected, the excited state of his mind pre- 
 vented him from sleeping soundly. 
 
 He awoke at frequent intervals, fancying that something 
 dreadful had taken place. ^ 
 
 _ He resolutely composed himself to sleep again each 
 time that ho awoke, for he felt the importance of resting 
 himself thoroughly, so as to be in a position to end .ire the 
 tatigues of the day aud night eusuiug. 
 
 Nevertheless, he was glad when morning came, and 
 having gone through his accustomed exercise, he sat down 
 as usual. 
 
 At breakfast-time, the turnkey appeared with a tempting 
 meal, which Jack Sheppard ate with all the greater relish 
 because he believed that it was the last breakfast he would 
 partake of in Newgate. 
 
 When the remnants had been taken away, he believed 
 he should be left for some time unmolested, and so he 
 resolved to begin to uso his file at once upon those por- 
 tions of his fetters which were riveted upon him, and 
 which, of course, could not be removed without filing 
 through them. 
 Jack set to work with right good will. 
 Never did he feel more satisfied with an occupation than 
 he did with this. 
 
 The file which he had taken from Hogarth's pocket was 
 one of first-rate quality, and seemed excellently well 
 adapted for the use to which it was now put. 
 
 In making the fetters no care was taken that the iron 
 selected should be of the hardest quality. 
 So long as it was heavy, that was enough. 
 Jack soon found that the iron was of a very soft 
 character, and the file ate into it with great rapidity. 
 
 He was careful not to confine his operations to one place, 
 but having filed through one to a certain distance, he 
 would pause and carefully fill up the place with the soft 
 black mud which he had collected for this purpose. 
 
 He was glad to find that this concealed his work in a 
 most admirable manner, and only a close examination 
 would have detected it. 
 
 But though the iron was soft, the file sharp, aud Jack 
 worked with right good will, he nevertheless found that 
 filing through a thick piece of iron was a very tedious 
 process. 
 
 Moreover, eveiy now and then he had to pause and 
 listen, lest anyone should come upon him unawares, and 
 more than once had he to hide his file, so sure did he feel 
 that some one was approaching. 
 
 The truth was that Jack was in momentary expecta- 
 tion of seeing Jonathan Wild, who had not made his ap- 
 pearance since the preceding night, and he had never 
 gone so Jang without paying a visit before. 
 
 At dinner-time he was obliged to pause, and indeed he 
 was right glad to do so, for his fingers ached with the 
 constant use he had made of them. 
 
 After dinner, however, having rested himself some- 
 what, he resumed his labour. 
 
 Still, Jonathan did not come, and this puzzled and dis- 
 concerted Jack extremely. 
 
 He would ten times rather have had him prying about, 
 but this absence filled him with apprehension. 
 
 He was afraid some deep motive lurked behind it, but 
 he was at a loss to think what. 
 
 As the day advanced his uneasiness increased to such 
 an extent that he was unable to continue his work. 
 
 At each sound he started and trembled, and finally he 
 was compelled to desist altogether. 
 
 In a state of mind perfectly indescribable, he leaned 
 back against the wall and waited for Wild to come. 
 
 After he had been he felt he should be all right, but not 
 until he had. 
 
 Carefully had Jack filled up the gaps in the iron which 
 the file had made, and now that it was growing dark he 
 defied detection. 
 
 Still Wild did not come. 
 
 Supper was brought as usual, and Jack partook of it 
 heartily. 
 
 He longed to ask the turnkey the reason of Jonathan's 
 non-appearance, bnt dreaded to do so lest suspicion should 
 be aroused. 
 
 He thought there was a look of unusual importance in 
 the man's face, as though something very extraordinary 
 had taken place ; but Jack did not dare trust himself to 
 speak. 
 
 He was glad when the man took his departure, for ha 
 found it difficult to exercise control ever himself. 
 After supper, Jack sat quite still. 
 Later and later it became, but still no one came. 
 What could be the meaning of it ? 
 A thought now occurred to Jack that chilled his very 
 blood. 
 
 His heart stood still, and cold drops of perspiration 
 broke out upon him. 
 
 i
 
 BLfEsKlN : A ROUANCT. 
 
 599 
 
 Could Jonathan Wild, by some means or other, have 
 obtained a knowledge of what he was about to do that 
 night? 
 
 Had he, with that devilish cunning which he possessed 
 and was so fond of exercising — had he kept away in order 
 to let him go to work uninterruptedly, that his triumph 
 should be greater ? 
 
 What if, when he had, with incredible labour and 
 fatigue, effected his escape, he should fall into the 
 hands of the thief-taker, when he imagined he was on the 
 very threshold of freedom ? 
 
 This was a terrible thought for Jack to have, and was 
 one that disconcerted him greatly. 
 
 Oh, how ardently he wished that Jonathan Wild would 
 come! 
 
 Jack never thought that a time would come when he 
 should so much desire the presence of his arch-enemy. 
 
 But it did come. 
 
 Jack's agitation increased as the time flew by. 
 
 It was so sickening to begin to work under the impres- 
 sion that all the toil would have no other effect than to 
 place him more firmly in Wild's power than he had ever 
 been before. 
 
 Jack could imagine his sensations when after, with in- 
 credible toil, he had gained the street he should find 
 Jonathan and his myrmidons waiting for him. 
 
 He knew Wild was quite capable of such a trick. 
 
 He would exult and delight in it. 
 
 It would give him the greatest possible satisfaction. 
 
 If he knew Jack was escaping, he would watch him at 
 every step, chuckle over his fruitless labour, and then 
 pounce upon him at the moment when the prisoner began 
 to congratulate himself on his freedom. 
 
 To such a pitch of excitement did Jack at last work him- 
 self that he felt, if he had much longer to wait, he should 
 go mad. 
 
 Suddenly a sound came, and ho listened to it with the 
 utmost joy. 
 
 " He comes — he oomes !" he said ; " the villain comes, 
 and all will yet be well !" 
 
 Some one was indeed approaching his cell, and in a 
 moment afterwards the door was flung open. 
 
 Eagerly Jack gazed at those who entered. 
 
 But he was disappointed. 
 
 Mr. Noakes and a turnkey alone came. 
 
 Where, then, was Jonathan ? 
 
 Jack would have given anything to have had a correct 
 answer to that question. 
 
 But he knew better than to ask it. 
 
 The Governor having satisfied himself by a glance that 
 all was well, left the cell again to retire to rest, for he was 
 tired out by all that had happened on that eventful day. 
 
 When he had departed, Jack clasped his head with his 
 hands, as he said : 
 
 " What am I to think of all this ? What shall I do ? 
 What can be the meaning of Jonathan thus suddenly dis- 
 continuing his visits ? I have not seen him since last 
 night. Twenty-four hours have never elapsed before 
 during my imprisonment without my seeing him ! What 
 can it mean?" 
 
 It was in vain Jack tortured himself to find an answer 
 to the question. 
 
 He was finally compelled to give it up in despair. 
 
 " It is but a thought," he said. " I am probably alarm- 
 ing myself groundlessly. At any rate, the thought, 
 powerful as it is, shall not prevent me from making at 
 least an effort to escape ; and now I think of it, I must be 
 wrong. I have made a mistake throughout ! If Jonathan 
 wished to lull me into a sense of false security, he would 
 not have done anything calculated to rouse my suspicions. 
 He would have come as usual, so that I should have fallen 
 all the more blindly into the snare. I ought to have 
 thought of this before, and not have alarmed myself in the 
 way I have done !" 
 
 Thus fluctuating between hope and fear, as he was 
 swayed by them alternately, did Jack Sheppard spend 
 some miserable hours. 
 
 But at length he shook off these thoughts, and, satisfied 
 that all within the prison had now retired to rest, he began 
 in good earnest to set about his task. 
 
 Taking the nail from its hiding-place, ha first of all 
 undid the padlock, and freed himself in this manner of as 
 many of his fetters as he could. 
 
 This done, he placed the uuil carefully in his pocket, 
 
 for he could not tell how soon he might require its ser- 
 vices. 
 
 He now set to work with his file, and soon got rid of. 
 more, but he found time speeding rapidly, and so he de- 
 termined to go no further with these at present. 
 
 He had freed his arms and his waist, and all that re- 
 mained were the iron rings or basils which were riveted 
 round his ankles. 
 
 These were of great thickness, and would require a long 
 time to file through, so he determined to put up with the 
 inconvenience of wearing them. 
 
 To these basils a piece of straight iron, about a foetlong, 
 was attached, and to prevent this jingling er dragging at 
 his heels he placed it upright against his leg, and tied it 
 there with his garters. 
 
 He had now to get out of his cell. 
 
 It seemed as though he had done a great deal already, 
 and yet how insignificant it seemed when placed in com- 
 parison with what he had to accomplish. 
 
 His body was free, it is true, from the encumbrances 
 which it had formerly worn, but that now seemed no- 
 thing. 
 
 Kesolutely enough, however, Jack made his way to the 
 door of the cell, resolved to commence an attack upon it. 
 
 He tried it first, and felt it all over. 
 
 It was lined with sheet-iron, which was fastened on to 
 the wood with a thousand rivets, while over the lock a 
 piece of drill-proof steel had been fixed. 
 
 Jack at once gave up all idoas of passing through that 
 door. 
 
 It was impregnable, and would be proof against all that 
 he could bring to bear upon it. 
 
 So he gave it up, but he would not have done so so 
 readily had he not thought of another means by which his 
 dungeon could be left. 
 
 Finding, then, that the door would resist all his efforts, 
 he determined to adopt this second resource, though, for 
 many reasons, he would have preferred to have worked his 
 way through the door had it seemed at all possible that he 
 would succeed in accomplishing such a feat. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLIX. 
 
 CONTEfUES TO RELATE JACK SHEPPARD'S PROCEEDINGS IN 
 THE CELL. 
 
 Jack Siieppaed did not allow himself to be in the least 
 cast down by this failure. 
 
 With as much vigour and determination as ever he con- 
 tinued his work, for he felt that his life wholly and solely 
 defended upon the exertions he made that night. 
 
 On a previous occasion, Jack had succeeded in making 
 an escape from a cell by excavating under the door. 
 
 The operation was a tedious one, but still it seemed to 
 offer every prospect of success, and so he resolved to at- 
 tempt it. 
 
 He was the more inclined to do this because he had 
 noticed how soft the mortar was between the stones. 
 
 They would no doubt be easily raised, and if the ground 
 under them was no harder than the mortar, there would 
 be very little trouble in digging it out, although he had 
 no suitable tools. 
 
 With one of the files, Jack now swept away the mortar 
 round all four sides of one of the stones, and having done 
 this much, he proceeded to raise it. 
 
 This he accomplished by using a portion of his fetter3 
 as a lever, and having raised it sufficiently at ono side to 
 place his fingers under it, he exerted all his strength to lift 
 it up. 
 
 He found this taxed his strength to the utmost, but ho 
 succeeded. 
 
 He rested the flagstone up against the wall. 
 
 A large square black space was now made visible, and 
 Jack set to work to dig it up. 
 
 The soil was very soft, and he scooped it out with hia 
 hands with very little trouble. 
 
 He worked rapidly, and in a short time had cleared away 
 the soil from the frame on which the door was hung. 
 
 Suddenly, however, as he was loosening the earth with 
 a piece of his fetters, he felt the end strike against some 
 metallic substance. 
 
 The sound dismayed him. 
 
 Hastily and anxiously he removed the 6oU ; Ixinj
 
 «00 
 
 BLUESK1N: A ROMAN'CE. 
 
 iRixions to ascertain the precise nature of the obstruc- 
 tion. 
 
 His heart failed him now, for ho had a. presentiment that 
 he would have to suffer a second disappointment. 
 
 AgiSin and again as he tried to looson the earth under- 
 neath the door did his tool strike against some metallic 
 substance. 
 
 What could it be ? 
 
 At length, by the exercise of incredible labour, Jack had 
 cleared away a largo quantity of soil ; and then he pro- 
 ceeded to ascertain, if he could, what it was that barred 
 his progress. 
 
 Passiug his hand over it, he became conscious at the first 
 touch that it was iron. 
 
 He uttered a groan. 
 
 A more rapid and searching examination made all clear 
 to him. 
 
 " I see it all now !" he cried, as he started in frenzy to 
 his feet — " I see it all now ! They have taken a hint from 
 the way in which I formerly effected my escape. Fool — 
 fool that I am ! I ought to have known that they would 
 do so ! They have fixed a huge sheet of iron under the 
 door, which I cannot possibly pierce through or burrow 
 under !" 
 
 This was precisely the state of the case. 
 
 When it became known how Jack had formerly made 
 his escape, steps were taken which would, it was believed, 
 effectually prevent a repetition of it. 
 
 Underneath the cell doors a large piece of sheet iron of 
 considerable thickness was placed, in a position perpen- 
 dicular to the door itself. 
 
 This iron wall nothing would penetrate, and such was 
 its dimensions ihat it would have taken hours to have 
 either burrowed under it or round either side. 
 
 This was the case with the newer cells, but the one in 
 which Jack was confined was of great antiquity, and this 
 precaution had already been adopted with respect to it. 
 
 Jack was in despair. 
 
 He threw himself down upon the damp floor of the dun- 
 geon, and groaned aloud. 
 
 The second resource, upon which ho had so confidently 
 reckoned, had failed him. 
 
 What was to be done now ? 
 
 How was he to escape from that dreadful cell f' 
 
 Would it baffle all his efforts ? 
 
 It would seem so. 
 
 At present, all he had done was to waste time, and use- 
 lessly exhaust his energies. 
 
 The only consolation he had derived from his labours 
 was the conviction that it was impossible to escape. 
 
 Jack writhed upon the ground like some wounded 
 6nake. 
 
 Ho could imagine the jeers and taunts of Jonathan 
 Wild and the Governor, when they came in in the morn- 
 ing and saw how he had been employed. 
 
 This thought maddened him more than all the rest. 
 
 He took hold of his hair, and tore it off by handfuls. 
 
 By degrees, however, he grew calmer. < 
 
 Then he rose to his feet. 
 
 "This is folly," he said; "I will not despair — I have 
 determined to escape, and I will do it, no matter how 
 many difficulties stand in my path. I will do it — I will be 
 free !" 
 
 Jack looked around him as well as the darkness would 
 permit him. 
 
 But he could see nothing that would give him hope. 
 
 Just instinctively he turned towards the door, and a 
 groan which he could not repress came from his lips. 
 
 How that door had disappointed him ! 
 
 He had scoffed at its strength and security, but now he 
 was abased and humbled. 
 
 He could see no means at present of effecting his release 
 if he could not overcome this door. 
 
 The only other openings in the cell were the chimney 
 and the window. 
 
 As for the latter, it was a mere hole in the stone-work, 
 and strongly defended by iron bars. 
 
 If he removed these — and it would require some hours 
 to do so — the aperture they protected was so small that he 
 could not have even squeezed his slender anatomy 
 through it. 
 
 Then the chimney. 
 
 That was so small that he feared it would be' Jolly to 
 attempt to Uy to ascend ii. 
 
 At last, however, as he could see nothing else better, ha 
 resolved to try. 
 
 He had his choice of making the effort, or lying down 
 and abandoning all hope of escape entirely. 
 
 While there was the ghost of a chance, Jack was not 
 likely to do this. 
 
 But he went to the chimney with a heavy heart. 
 
 He had looked at it many times, and was all but confident 
 he could not ascend. 
 
 But he made the attempt. 
 
 He did succeed in getting his head up, but that was all. 
 
 The aperture was so small that it was impossible for his 
 body to pass through it. 
 
 He would have stood just as good a chance if he had 
 tried to crawl through a keyhole. 
 
 Jack drew back with a groan. 
 
 All hope was over now. 
 
 He must remain just where he was, to be found in the 
 morning, and laughed at for his impotent attempts to 
 eseape. 
 
 Jack dreaded this ridicule more than anything else, and 
 it proved a powerful incentive to exertion. 
 
 But it could not make him perform impossibilities. 
 
 It seemed as though that cell was strong enough to 
 laugh all his efforts to scorn. 
 
 Jack was in despair. 
 
 He flung himself down upon the ground again, and 
 beat his head with such violence against the hard stones as 
 threatened to break his skull. 
 
 As before, however, the paroxysm passed away. 
 
 But how time was consumed ! 
 
 A long time had elapsed since he had commenced his 
 operations, and now, if he succeeded in leaving the cell, 
 he did not stand half so good a chance of ultimately 
 getting off, for he would have to work his way from tho 
 centre of the prison into the open air. 
 
 Who could contemplate such obstacles as lay before 
 him, and not stand back aghast? 
 
 Probably none save Jack Sheppard. 
 
 His fertile brain never allowed him to sink long under 
 a difficulty, and the present occasion proved it. 
 
 Ere long another thought occurred to him, and the next 
 moment so pleased did he feel with it that ho clapped his 
 hands and cried out with pleasure. 
 
 "That will do it!" he said— "that will do it! Fool 
 that I was not to think of such a simple thing before ! 
 That is what 1 ought to have done first, and then by this 
 time I should doubtless have been outside Newgate. But 
 better late than never — I will try now !" 
 
 The project which Jack had now formed did not appear 
 to be at all of a character to inspire much hope. 
 
 Finding the entrance to the chimney so small, he had 
 giTen it up, but now he recollected the shape of it. 
 
 It swelled gradually from the bottom to the top, being 
 shaped almost like the segment of a huge funnel. 
 
 Jack's idea now was to form a breach in the wall of the 
 chimney, as high up from tho floor as he could reach. 
 
 He should then be able to ascend the chimney, and 
 make his way into the chamber overhead. 
 
 Out of this chamber he would probably have little diffi- 
 culty in making his way. 
 
 What a hopeless, endless task this seemed 1 
 
 But Jack thought only lightly of it. 
 
 He saw, indeed, the road to freedom lying open before 
 him. 
 
 Taking up the files again, which had already done him 
 such good service, he proceeded to pick away the mortar 
 from round a stone as high up in the wall as he could 
 reach. 
 
 For this purpose the sharp file was admirably adapted, 
 but suddenly, through bearing too heavily upon it, ho 
 broke it. 
 
 He threw it down with an impatient gesture, for now 
 that it was broken the pieces were so very small as to be 
 wholly unserviceable. 
 
 He had another file, however, and this now proved a 
 very fortunate circumstance. 
 
 With greater care he used this second file, for if he 
 broke it the consequences would bo fatal. 
 
 Having at length picked away all the mortar, he put tho 
 file into his pocket, and with tho heaviest portion of his 
 fetters tried to knock the stone into the chimney. 
 
 It gave way before his efforts. 
 
 He renewed the vigour of his labour, and presently tho
 
 JACK SHEPPABD ESCAPING FROM NEWGATE. 
 
 stone sank into tho chimney and fell rattling down into 
 the fireplace. 
 
 "Hurrah!" cried Jack, as he wiped the streaming 
 perspiration from his forehead with the sleeve of his 
 coat. " Hurrah ! This is success indeed !" 
 
 He paused, fer his lips were parched, and burning with 
 the mortar he had dislodged. 
 
 Nevertheless, he resumed his toil with greater ardour 
 than before, for now he had encouragement to proceed. 
 
 One stone having been removed, no longer made it 
 necessary to use the file. 
 
 Picking -up the stone itself, he held it in both hands, and 
 ased It as a hammer to break down the rest. 
 
 By adopting this measure, he enlarged the breach with 
 yery great rapidity. 
 
 Suddenly he came to a fresh obstacle. 
 
 This wa3 a bar of iron about an inch square, which had 
 been placed aeross the chimney with superfluous caution, 
 bo as to do away with all possibility of a prisoner making 
 his escape. 
 
 Ho. 7&— Blueskih. 
 
 " I will have that bar," said Jack, as soon as he per- 
 ceived it. " It will make an excellent crow. I will get it 
 out, and then I shall be able to make the walls of Newgate 
 crumble down before me." 
 
 Jack set to work to clear away all that portion of the 
 masonry which interfered with his seeing the bar, and 
 having done so, he found that it was about two feet and a 
 half in length. 
 
 Could he but obtain possession of it, it would indeed 
 form a serviceable and formidable weapon, and Jack deter- 
 mined not to be baulked of having it. 
 
 But he found that it was very firmly bedded into the 
 stones with a species of mortar that seemed to be of a 
 harder quality than the rest. 
 
 To remove this, Jack was compelled to resert to his file. 
 
 He used it with great care so as to prevent a breakage, 
 and after seme time had the satisfaction of finding one end 
 was free. 
 
 He then set about the other, but almost at the first stroke 
 the hie broke. 
 
 No. 76.
 
 eo2 
 
 ELDESKIN: a romance. 
 
 A more vexatious occurrence than this could scarcely 
 bo imagined. 
 
 Jack's passion was terrible ; and it was while dominated 
 with it that he seized the piece of iron with both hands, 
 and, with a sudden jerk, released the other end. 
 
 Having done this, reconciled him in some measure to 
 the breakage of the file. 
 
 Ht> now held in his hands a bar of iron two feet and a 
 half in length and an inch square. 
 
 With such a weapon how much might bo accomplished ! 
 
 Feeling, however, that there was no time to lose, Jack 
 ewt about him with right good will. 
 
 At every blow he struck the wall of the ehimnoy the 
 stones fell clattering down, and in a few moments he had 
 made a hole large enough to crawl through. 
 
 Placing the bar which had served him so well in a con- 
 venient position he mounted, and without much trouble 
 scrambled through the breach. 
 
 Then taking the bar in his hand he held it up at the 
 full length of his arm in order to ascertain whether there 
 was any other obstruction above him. 
 
 CHAPTER CCOLXX. 
 
 BELATE9 HOW JACK SHEFTARD GOT OUT OF HIS DUNGEON 
 INTO THE RED-ROOM, AND HOW FROM THENGE HE 
 MADE HIS WAY INTO THE CHAPEL. 
 
 He waved the bar about, and, as he fully expeoted, it 
 struck against the bottom of the grate in the room above. 
 
 A light would now hav» been of the utmost service to 
 him, but it was folly to think about such a thing, so very 
 wisely he banished the thought. 
 
 Stimulated by the suecess he had already had, Jack set 
 about this fresh task with additional ardeur. 
 
 He would have to make a breach in the floor of the 
 room above, and then, when he had drawn himself up into 
 this apartment, it would bo time enough for him to think 
 what further steps he should take. 
 
 It required a dauntless courage to make, or rather 
 attempt, an escape from Newgate. 
 
 Even when the next chamber was reached, one would 
 be a long way from being free. 
 
 But Jack was not cast down. 
 
 One reason for this was, he never allowed himself to bo 
 daunted with contemplating at one time all that he had 
 to do. 
 
 He shut his eyes to all difficulties except the one before 
 him. 
 
 When he had surmounted that, then was the time to 
 look at the next. 
 
 This was the secret of his success. 
 
 He had first looked at his fetters, and, as wo have seen, 
 he freed himself from them. 
 
 Then he turned to making his way out of the cell, and 
 he seemed likely to do that. 
 
 Until he had worked his way out of it he would not 
 look the next obstacle in the face. 
 
 It was a wise proceeding. 
 
 The only fear was, that as he found obstacle after ob- 
 stacle springing up with obstinate pertinacity he would 
 grow tired of their perpetual recurrence. 
 
 We shall see. 
 
 As though he cared very little whether he was heard or 
 not, Jack Sheppard worked away with his iron bar at the 
 floor above with right good will. 
 
 Down came the bricks and fragments of stone and 
 mortar in a perfect shower. 
 
 Jack redoubled his eff®rts. 
 
 Suddenly, to his great joy, the iron bar ceased to en- 
 counter any obstruction. 
 
 He could wave it about freely overhead. 
 
 The way to the upper chamber was open to him. 
 
 He resolved to climb up, but to do so with the iron bar 
 would be difficult. 
 
 Still he could not think of leaving so valuable an imj»b- 
 ment behind him. 
 
 He Gould not tell what further need he migUi, navy of 
 its services. 
 
 It might prove to be of greater use to him than it ha 1 
 been hitherto. 
 
 ^ After wondering for a long time how he should manage 
 this, he fancied he should be able to throw it up into the 
 room above and then ascend himself afterwards. 
 
 No sooner did this thought occur to him than he set 
 about putting it into execution. 
 
 The first time he failed. 
 
 He threw the bar up, but it did not remain. 
 
 It came clattering down again, and he narrowly esoaped 
 receiving a severe blow from it. 
 
 Ho caught it in his hand and threw it up again. 
 
 This time it remained, and he now set to w«rk to 
 foHow it. 
 
 This was. in comparison with his former achievement, 
 the easiest tmng imaginable. 
 
 In less than a moment he climbed the chimney and 
 squeezed his body through the hole he had made. 
 
 Upon gaining his feet the first thing he did was to feel 
 about for his iron bar. 
 
 His hand soon encountered it. 
 
 Taking it firmly in his grasp, and holding it out hori- 
 zontally before him, he walked boldly across the room, 
 though he was careful not to stumble against anything. 
 
 There wag one grated window in this apartment, and 
 through this a few rays of nightlight came. 
 
 This was all Jack had to aid him. 
 
 He took care to walk across the room in the direction 
 that would take him over the door of his dungeon below. 
 
 He argued, and plausibly enough, that the one door 
 would be situated immediately over the other. 
 
 Ere he had gone many paces the extreme end of the bar 
 struck against something. 
 
 He paused at once, and felt about him with his hands. 
 
 By the feel he could tell that he was touching the stone 
 wall of the chamber. 
 
 He passed his hand over it, and presently felt the door. 
 
 To his joy he found it was not lined with iron as the 
 one was that led out »f his dungeon, and this inspired him 
 with the hope that he should bo able to make his way 
 through it. 
 
 The room in which he now stood was known among tho 
 officials of Newgate as the Bed-room. 
 
 A long time had elapsed since the door had been 
 opened. 
 
 The last prisoner it contained was some nobleman who 
 had been concerned in the rebellion of 1715. 
 
 They were all staunch adherents to the Stuart faction, 
 and were proved guilty of treason to their lawful Sove- 
 reign. 
 
 The sentenee passed upon them was death by the hand 
 «f the executioner. 
 
 In consequence of their rank, however, they were 
 spared the ignominy of the hangman's- rope. 
 
 They were all beheaded, and some say that it was from 
 this circumstance that the dungeon in which they had 
 been confined received the name of the Red-room. 
 
 This may or may not be true, but it is an undoubted 
 fact that after their death the door was lacked and do 
 person had from that time entered the chamber until Jack 
 Sheppard made a forcible entry into it in the manner we 
 have just recorded. 
 
 Nearly seventy years had elapsed from this period. 
 
 We have digressed so far in order to show how it was 
 that this door was not so strongly secured as most others 
 in the prison were. 
 
 In his examinations Jack soon found that the door wa» 
 fastened by a lock only. 
 
 Ho went to work, therefore, with great spirit, and hi 
 less than ten minutes had it open. 
 
 He passed through at once, and stood in the corridor 
 without. 
 
 Jack had already planned a certain route to take in 
 getting out of the prison, and the chapel was compro 
 hended in it. 
 
 Towards this then he resolved to proceed without 
 delay. 
 
 But he had to pause a moment or two to consider which 
 was the direction he ought to take. 
 
 He had particularly noticed the route from the door of 
 his dungeon to the chapel, and after a little reflection he 
 turned to the right along the corridor. 
 
 He continued along it for several yards until his further 
 progress was stayed by another door. 
 
 Here then was another obstruction. 
 
 With a feeling of great confidence about his heart, how- 
 ever, Jack proceeded to examine it. 
 
 In the course of this examination his confidence abated. 
 
 His heart failed him. 
 
 m^vm
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 603 
 
 He began to fear that the door would prove the most 
 I 6erious obstacle he had at present met with. 
 
 It was a perfect miraele of strength, and on the side 
 upon which Jack stood no fastening could be found, with 
 the exception of the lock. 
 
 Upon this, however, Jack made a resolute attack with 
 his iron bar; and having succeeded at length in inserting 
 the point of this between the box of the lock and the 
 door-post, he by a sudden exertion of strength wrenched 
 it off. 
 
 Having done this, he tried the door ; but, to his morti- 
 fication, found that, to all appearance, it was as strong as 
 before. 
 
 He could not move it in the least. 
 
 Having made this discovery, he tried to call to mind 
 what fastenings were on the other side of the door. 
 
 Unless he was mistaken, a heavy iron bar crossed it in 
 a horizontal direction. 
 
 This iron bar must be removed. 
 
 But how ? 
 
 The door itself was so strong as to laugh to scorn all 
 attempts that he might make upon it. 
 
 Then the do®r-post was composed of stone, and evi- 
 dently of great thickness. 
 
 A cold perspiration broke out upon him. 
 
 But he soon raHied. 
 
 He determined, after having accomplished so much as 
 he had, after making such incredible exertions, he would 
 not be baffled by a door. 
 
 Animated by this spirit he set to work upon the door- 
 post. 
 
 He could see no other means of achieving his purpose 
 than by chipping away the stone with his iron bar. 
 
 This would not ©nly be a tedious and difficult operation, 
 but a noisy one. 
 
 From noise he had everything to fear. 
 
 Up to the present moment he had caused no alarm. 
 
 All within the prison seemed as silent as death itself. 
 
 The gaolers and the Governor, tired out with their extra 
 duty in the court during the preceding days, slept even 
 sounder than usual. 
 
 Fortune had favoured him exceedingly, but he feared 
 that upon making a breach in the stone wall large enough 
 to remove the bar, he should ereate an alarm. 
 
 Ho might be heard by the debtors, whose quarters in 
 the prison were not far distant from this ; for at the period 
 of whieh we write, Newgate was a prison for debtors as 
 well as felons, and continued to be so for many years 
 afterwards. 
 
 Notwithstanding these apprehensions, however. Jack 
 stuck bravely to his work ; but he was careful not to make 
 any more noise than he could help. 
 
 He delivered his strokes with the iron bar with great 
 rapidity, and at each stroke a piece of stone was chipped 
 off. 
 
 He could wish for no better encouragement in his 
 labours than this, and he continued to work without 
 stopping, except when he paused to listen now and then 
 to ascertain whether there were any signs of an alarm 
 having been given. 
 
 All continuing silent as before, however, he went on 
 with his work. 
 
 In a short time he succeeded in making a breach com- 
 pletely tnrough the wall, and so well had he calculated the 
 distance from the floor at which the bar was placed, that he 
 was able to lift it from its setting. 
 
 He was compelled to let it fall, however, and it reached 
 the 6tone floor of the corridor with such a terrible clang 
 that made his heart go as cold as stone. 
 
 He stood for a moment in a state of the utmost suspense, 
 but reassured by the silence which still endured, he 
 ventured to push the door open. 
 
 It yielded easily to his touch. 
 
 He passed through it in a moment. 
 
 He was now able to proceed without further interrup- 
 tion to the chapel. 
 
 He knew well enough, from the careful observations ho 
 had taken, that there was no other door to hinder him, 
 save the one which led into the chapel. 
 
 Here he soon arrived 
 
 The peculiar appearance of this door had not escaped 
 his notice. 
 
 The lower part was of wood, studded with rivets, and 
 was securely fastened. 
 
 The upper portion, however, consisted of iron spikes, so 
 that in the daytime it was quite possible for anyone to stand 
 outside the door and look into the chapel between these 
 spikes, which were upwards of a foot in length. 
 
 Jack had previously made up his mind as to how he 
 should deal with this door. 
 
 He determined not to attempt to force the lock or bolts, 
 but to break off one of the spikes, and squeeze himself 
 through the space thus left. 
 
 It was an easy way of overcoming a very serious diffi- 
 culty. 
 
 Taking up his iron bar, he held it lengthwise, and with 
 fl struck the spike near the bottom part. 
 
 At the third stroke he broke it off. 
 
 The space now left was not very great, but still Jack 
 thought it was largo enough to squeeze his slender body 
 through. 
 
 In the first place, he pushed the iron bar through, and 
 let it drop on to the floor of the chapel. 
 
 Then seizing hold of the top edges of the door, he 
 raised himself up. 
 
 The aperture proved very narrow, and he bruised him- 
 self sadly in attempting to ferce his way through it. 
 
 When he had forced his shoulders through, the difficulty 
 was not so great, and after repeated struggles he reached 
 the floor of the chapel. 
 
 Having done this, he rested a moment to recover his 
 strength, for he was terribly exhausted by tbe efforts he 
 had made. 
 
 He then felt about for the iron bar, whieh he was 
 resolved not to part with. 
 
 In feeling for this his hand encountered the iron spike 
 which he had broken off. 
 
 This he immediately consigned to his pocket, for there 
 was just a chance that he should be able to avail himself 
 of it in some way. 
 
 The iron bar was elose by ; and once more taking up 
 this implement, without which he could certainly never 
 have done what he had, he proceeded to cross the chapel. 
 
 This place was in profound darkness, and great caro 
 was therefore requisite to avoid coming into contact with 
 the numerous objects it contained. 
 
 As before, he held the bar out before him in a horizontal 
 
 Eosition, so as to be aware, at the earliest moment, when 
 e was near to anything. 
 
 By adopting this very simple measure, he saved bJmselt 
 several severe blows, which otherwise he would have 
 inevitably sustained. 
 
 Although the only opportunities Jack had of observing 
 the interior arrangements of the chapel were while he 
 was being led to his pew and taken from it, yet he had 
 made such good use of his eyes that he imprinted the 
 whole of it upon his memory. 
 
 This knowledge was now of the utmost value to him, 
 and without making the least mistake, or deviating from 
 one direction, he crossed the floor of the edifice. 
 
 CHAPTER COCLXXI. 
 
 JACK 8HBPPARD SUCCEEDS IN GETTING ON TO THE ROOF 
 OF NEWGATE. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was well aware that from one side of 
 the chapel a door opened which led into a passage or 
 entry, communicating with the leads, as the r©of of the 
 prison was called in consequence of its being covered with 
 this metal. 
 
 It was the roof which he desired to gain, for he fancied 
 that once here he would have little trouble in descending 
 to the street below. 
 
 Having reached, at length, the wall of the chapel, some- 
 where near the spot where this door was situated, Jack 
 began to feel about him with his hands. 
 
 Never until this moment was he so conscious of the 
 utility of his eyes. 
 
 The least light would now have saved him an infinite 
 deal of time. 
 
 He was, however, compelled to be patient. 
 
 At last his hands encountered the door, and he imme- 
 diately set to work to ascertain what kind of fastenings 
 were upon it. 
 
 Thoy wero all on the side upon which he stood, and 
 consisted of two bolts and a lock. 
 
 The bolts he drew without delay, and the» set to work 
 upon the lock.
 
 604 
 
 BLOTSKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 In doing this he called the spiiie which ho had broken off 
 the other door into requisition. 
 
 By the exercise of some skill and patience, he sueceeded 
 in inserting its point into the box of the lock. 
 
 Having done this he used his iron bar as a lever, and 
 at the second attempt he wrenched the box completely 
 off. 
 
 There was one more obstacle overcome. 
 
 Again did the route to freedom lay open before 
 him. 
 
 After listening for a moment and finding all was still, 
 Jack passed through this door into the passage beyond. 
 
 As we have said, this passage communicated with the 
 roof of tho prison. 
 
 But Jack found that there would yet be some trouble 
 in reaching it. 
 
 All the obstacles had not been overcome. 
 
 Tho one which he now witnessed was of far more 
 formidable character than any of the others. 
 
 This was another door which was situated some dis- 
 tance down the passage. 
 
 Like most of the doors in the prison of Newgate, it was 
 veiy securely fastened. 
 
 Jack tried to shake it into its setting, but in vain. 
 
 At this fresh and unexpected obstruction his spirits 
 somewhat failed him, for he feared he should not be able 
 to get out of tho prison before daylight. 
 
 This feeling of dejection lasted but a few moments. 
 
 Shaking it off, he set to work upon this door with un- 
 diminished resolution. 
 
 As was the case with the last one, the fastenings were 
 on the side nearest to him, which was a very great ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 As before, he drew the bolts, and then finding that the 
 lock was all that he had to contend against, he endea- 
 voured to wrench off the box in the samo manner as he 
 had done before. 
 
 But this one appeared to bo moro strongly screwed on 
 than the other. 
 
 However, having inserted the spike, and got the iron 
 bar in a favourable position, he exerted his utmost strength, 
 and, to his satisfaction, the box gave way. 
 
 Ho pulled the door open eagerly, and darted through, 
 not doubting that at last he had reached the entrance to 
 the leads. 
 
 But he was doomed to a fresh disappointment. 
 
 Ere he had gone a dozen paces iurtner, ne camp to 
 another door, and this was tho strongest and best-protected 
 door of all, the one opening from his own cell alone ex- 
 cepted. 
 
 It was, to use Jack Sheppard's own words, as quoted 
 from his account of his escape, " guarded with more bolts, 
 bars, and locks than any I had hitherto met with." 
 
 How to overcome this he knew not. 
 
 The labour he had already performed was really im- 
 mense. 
 
 It was superhuman. 
 
 He felt the effects of his exertions most severely. 
 
 His strength seemed' almost spent. 
 
 A very short time, comparatively speaking, had elapsed 
 since he commenced his operations, and yet ho had done 
 more than several workmen could have done in a couple 
 of days, even had they been furnished with tools suitable 
 to the accomplishment of their purpose. 
 
 Perspiration streamed from him at every pore, and he 
 panted and gasped for breath. 
 
 He would never have had courage enough to attack this 
 door had it not been for the thought that this was, perhaps, 
 the last obstacle which intervened between him and 
 liberty. 
 
 Keanimated by this hope, he resumed his efforts. 
 
 But that strong door threatened to laugh all he could do 
 to scorn. 
 
 The success he had met with in wrenching off the 
 boxes of tho doors made Jack attempt this means ; but he 
 failed. 
 
 This time his labour was in vain. 
 
 Panting and weary he rested again, to recover some por- 
 tion of his expended strength. 
 
 Then, as a last desperate effort, he resolved to attack the 
 fillet on the main post of the door, and to try whether he 
 could not forcibly remove it. 
 
 To his joy he succeeded. 
 
 It was beyond his expectation. 
 
 With a crash the fillet camo away, and brought the box 
 of the lock away with it. 
 
 Once again, then, was the road open before hirn, but 
 this time Jack almost dreaded to cross the threshold- 
 He was afraid that, as on former occasions, he would bo 
 able to proceed only a few paces before he met with an 
 obstruction. 
 
 This was a weakness, though a pardonable one. 
 
 He overcame it. 
 
 Urged on by the necessity of being as speedy in his 
 movements as possible, lest after all at the last moment he 
 should be captured, he entered the gloomy passage which 
 stretched beyond. 
 
 He would make a desperate effort now, for what moro 
 vexatious occurrence could be imagined than that of being 
 captured after taking such incredible pains to get free. 
 
 No alarm appeared as yet to have been given, and with 
 a trembling heart he crossed the threshold, and stepped 
 cautiously along the passage beyond. 
 
 He groaned faintly, for suddenly ho found his worst 
 forebodings realised. 
 
 His progress was stopped by another door.* 
 
 He had not the heart to feel for the fastenings. 
 
 He leant up against the wall, and almost felt inclined to 
 cease all further efforts. 
 
 As he stood in this dejected attitude, he fancied he could 
 feel a current of cold air come through the crevices in the 
 door. 
 
 This roused him. 
 
 That door, then, was surely all that intervened between 
 him and the open air. 
 
 With desperate resolution, he determined to make one 
 more trial. 
 
 He felt for the fastenings. 
 
 The first thing that his hand encountered was a bolt at 
 the top. 
 
 This he drew instantly, and felt for the one which was 
 no doubt at the bottom. 
 
 He drew this also, and then, to his amazement, the door 
 creaked slowly open. 
 
 Those bolts, then, were all that secured it. 
 
 Beyond the door he could see the dull, night sky, while 
 the cold air streamed in upon him. 
 
 At first, so totally unexpected was this piece of good 
 fortune, he could scarcely bring himself to believe in the 
 reality of what he saw before him. 
 
 He clutched the door-post, for he felt as though he wa3 
 about to faint. 
 
 His head swam round and round. 
 
 The cool night air, however, playing soothingly upon 
 his fevered body, soon recovered him. 
 
 He presently released his hold, and stood upright. 
 
 Then, with a reeling step, he crossed the threshold. 
 
 A frantic, maniacal shriek of joy which he eould not re- 
 press announced the gladness he f elt'at once more'standing 
 beneath the arch of heaven, even though his feet rested on 
 the roof of Newgate. 
 
 At this moment he felt himself a free man. 
 
 He experienced a fresh accession of strength. 
 
 Indeed, he became utterly forgetful of all the fatigue he 
 had undergone. 
 
 For a moment it all passed away. 
 
 He drank in, with feverish eagerness, the cool, fresh 
 air. 
 
 It was in truth sweet and delightful to him, who had 
 for so long breathed the impure atmosphere of a dungeon. 
 
 He swallowed it in large quantities, and each inspiration 
 that he took appeared to have the effect of endowing him 
 with fresh strength. 
 
 " I am free !" he gasped — " free at last, although the 
 di 111 cul ties in my way were so very numerous ! Free — ha, 
 ha ! — I am free !" 
 
 He checked himself suddenly, for the thougnt struck 
 him that he was congratulating himself just a little too 
 soon. 
 
 To be sure he had gained the roof of the prison, but yet 
 he was not exactly free, and most certainly he was not out 
 of the reach of his foes. 
 
 This Gaused a slight abatement to his felicitations. 
 
 * The Author desires to state that in this account of Jack 
 Sheppard's escape from Newgate, he has adhered with all pos- 
 sible closeness to Jack Sheppard's own statement, made and 
 signed by him on the 10th November, 1724.
 
 BLTJESKIN : A BOMANCE, 
 
 605 
 
 Stepping out on to the leads, he closed the door after 
 him, and with much greater calmness looked about him. 
 
 He had to decide which way to go to reach the ground. 
 
 This was rather a serious point, and one that it was 
 necessary to perpend upon. 
 
 He had never been upon this part of the roof of the 
 prison, and he now walked round and took in its general 
 appearance. 
 
 He found he was shut in on all sides by a wall, for the 
 roof of the other portions of the prison was much 
 higher than that upon which he stood. 
 
 Indeed, he stood merely upon what were called by the 
 officials the lower leads. 
 
 How, then, was he to gain the upper ones ? 
 
 He travelled all round, and at length paused before a 
 place where he fancied the wall was not quite so high as 
 in others. 
 
 Here he resolved to make his attempt to ascend. 
 
 The roof was quite flat, or nearly so, and Jack retreated 
 a few paces. 
 
 Then running forward, so as to give himself an impetus, 
 he sprang up and caught hold of the top of the wall with 
 the tips of his fingers. 
 
 This was enough. 
 
 With very little trouble he improved his grasp, and 
 then, by calling into exercise the muscles in his arms, he 
 drew his body until his breast was level with the top of 
 the wall. 
 
 When he was in this position he was easily able to swing 
 his legs up. 
 
 In another moment he was standing on the upper leads. 
 
 It was a clear, starlight night, and in tho distance Jack 
 could see the monster dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. 
 
 This proved an excellent landmark to him. 
 
 He was now without doubt able to make his way in any 
 direction he wished. 
 
 H he stood with the dome of St. Paul's on his right 
 hand, then the Old Bailey would be on his left, and New- 
 gate Street straight before him. 
 
 This was the position he took up, and having done so 
 ho crossed to the wall that looked down into the Old 
 Bailey. 
 
 On arriving here a glance told him he was correct. 
 
 The street below was silent and deserted. 
 
 It seemed an impossibility to reach it, for the wall pre- 
 sented a sheer descent of many feet, 
 
 Convinced that to escape in that direction was quite out 
 of the question, he crept along just inside the parapet 
 until he came to the corner of Newgate Street. 
 
 Here he once more ventured to look over. 
 
 This street, like the Old Bailey, was quite deserted. 
 
 All the shops were closed, and not a single pedestrian 
 or vehicle was in sight. 
 
 From where he now stood he could see down Skinner 
 Street and Snow HilL as well as up Giltspur Street, but 
 in all ©f these the same state of things presented itself. 
 
 The steep wall was still below him without any break, 
 so that unless he had had a long rope or a ladder it would 
 be impossible to descend. 
 
 As he had neither of these, he kept on his way round 
 the parapet, in the hope that he should presently come to 
 a place where a descent might be more easily accom- 
 plished. 
 
 Arriving at the next corner of the wall, Jack looked 
 over once again, and saw below him the roof of Wild's house. 
 
 The distance from the wall to it was not great, and by 
 holding with his hands he doubtless could have lowered 
 himself on to it without receiving any injury, or creating 
 any alarm. 
 
 But Jack shook his head. 
 
 It was too much like jumping out of the frying-pan into 
 the fire for him to think of getting on to the roof of Wild's 
 house, however easily the feat could be performed, and 
 without some powerful motive it was not likely he would 
 run the risk of doing such a thing. 
 
 Had he but known, however, that Edgworth Bess was a 
 prisoner within that dismal habitation, he would not have 
 hesitated a single moment about jumping down and en- 
 deavouring to effect her release. 
 
 But he had no more lsiowledge about her than Jonathan 
 had communicated, &nd supposing that to be true he 
 pictured her lying at the point of death at some obscure 
 habitation near the river, whither Jonathan had conveyed 
 her titer her leap into the Thames. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCLXXIl. 
 
 WILD JUNIOR MAKES A TRAITORLY PROPOSAL TO EDGWORTH 
 BESS. 
 
 And here, doubtless, the poor girl would in reality have 
 been had it not been for her own abortive effort to escape. 
 
 Now, however, as the reader is well aware, she was a 
 prisoner in the thief-taker's house, and Wild junior had 
 taken upon himself the task of keeping her in his safe 
 keeping. 
 
 At the very moment that Jack stood upon the leads 
 looking down on to the thief-takers' house, a scene was 
 taking plaee within it between Edgworth Bess and the 
 thief-taker's rascally son, which would have driven him 
 frantic could he but have witnessed it. 
 
 But Jack remained profoundly ignorant not only of 
 that, but of the fact of her being in the thief-taker's house 
 at all. 
 
 Let us leave Jack upen the roof of Newgate, seeking 
 about for some means of escape from that elevated and 
 unpleasant position, while for a brief space we turn our 
 attention to Edgworth Bess. 
 
 We will show the reader what was taking place while 
 Jack Shoppard stood looking over the wall of Newgate on 
 to the raof of Jonathan Wild's honse. 
 
 We will show the reader that which was invisible to the 
 individual to whom the knowledge was most necessary. 
 
 That Wild junior was not sincere in all his protestations 
 of good faith to his amiable parent was quite certain. 
 
 Whether the thief -taker was sincere himself remains to 
 be seen. 
 
 At any rate, his son was not, or he would never have 
 kept up the deception about the papers, of which he had 
 so cleverly gained possession, and so cunningly secreted. 
 
 He had a little game of his own to play, but he could 
 not carry out his schemes without he kept on good terms 
 with his parent. 
 
 When we last saw them that very desirable state of 
 things appeared to be completely brought about. 
 
 It cannot be doubted that George Wild had some deeper 
 motive than he expressed or allowed to be visible for ad- 
 vising the thief -taker to act as he did. 
 
 It may be presumed that he had some particular reason 
 of his own for professing his willingness to watch over 
 Edgworth Bess in her imprisonment, and be answerable 
 for her safe keeping. 
 
 He had a motive, and it was not long before it developed 
 itself. 
 
 There was one point, however, upon which Wild junior 
 was perfectly sincere. 
 
 That was his wound. 
 
 He had received several very severe injuries, and had 
 he not to a great extent inherited tho iron constitution of 
 his parent he would not have been able to do as he did. 
 
 At times he suffered the most intolerable anguish from 
 the pistol wound he had received, but each day showed an 
 improvement in it. 
 
 As for Edgworth Bess, she demanded all the attentions 
 of Mr. Snoxall for several days, but she eventually grew 
 better. 
 
 On the night when Jaek was endeavouring to achieve 
 an escape from his cell, she was stronger and better than 
 she had ever been. 
 
 As she happened to be of more value to Wild alive than 
 dead every possible attention was paid to her. 
 
 Up to this night, Wild junior had kept his watch in the 
 adjoining apartment in the most exemplary manner. 
 
 But in the long solitary hours which he passed while 
 doing so, his busy brain created and pondered over a 
 thousand schemes. 
 
 He hit upon one at last which seemed as though it would 
 answer his purpose exactly. 
 
 He thought of it under every aspect, and finally he 
 muttered : 
 
 « Yes — yes, that will do ? Excellent — most excellent ! 
 Shall I wait a little longer or make the attempt at once. I 
 must pause a little and decide. Blueskin and Jack 
 Sheppard are both safe enough, that's quite certain. They 
 cannot come in between us. Then the guv'nor, he's out 
 of the way for a bit ! I will try it ! I will see this girl, 
 and I will try what smooth words and fair promises will 
 accomplish. H I can enly win her round to me — if I can 
 establish such a claim upon her gratitude as she cannot 
 resist— if I can make her my wife ! — Ha, ha ! — then all
 
 606 
 
 BLTJESKIN: A BOMANCB. 
 
 will bo well ! I shall laugh at the guv'nor then with all 
 Lis d — d cleverness. The heiress will be mino, and I 
 shall bave all the papers necessary ! Ma, ha ! Capital ! 
 
 The ruminations and congratulations upon the part of 
 the thief-taker's son will give a tolerable insight into his 
 intentions, and it will soen be seen how he set te work to 
 carry them into effect. 
 
 Having deoided upon his course, he waited until all 
 within the house had retired to bed, save and except the 
 two men downstairs who were always on the watch all the 
 night long. 
 
 For a reason which will presently be given, he know ho 
 had nothing to fear from his father in the shape of inter- 
 ruption. 
 
 The course would never be clearer before him than on 
 that night, and he resolved not to omit to avail himself of 
 80 favourable a cenjuaction of circumstances. 
 
 With a stealthy step he approached the door of the room 
 in whieh he sat on guard, and opening it, looked out on 
 to the landing and listened. 
 
 The silence of the very grave itself prevailed. 
 
 Reassured by the silence, Wild junior stepped quietly on 
 to the landing, and approached tho door of tho room in 
 which Edgworth Bess was confined. 
 
 He tapped at it gently with his knueklcs, and waited 
 for a response. ' 
 
 None eame. 
 
 He tapped again, and this time with greater loudness 
 than before. 
 
 This time he was heard, for a voice said : 
 
 " Who is there ?" 
 
 "A friend," replied Wild junior, in a voice just loud 
 enough to make itself heard through the door — "a friend," 
 he repeated ; " one who will aid you to escape." 
 
 He grinned much in tho fashion that his father would 
 have done as he spoke, and taking a key from his pocket, 
 he fitted it into the lock and turned it. 
 
 He next withdrew the bolts, and then he entered. 
 
 Edgw©rth Bess was standing near the threshold. 
 
 "Hush !" said George, in a mysterious whisper — " hush ! 
 Do not speak a word until I have closed the door ! H you 
 do, we shall be overheard 1" 
 
 Scarcely knowing what to do or how to act, Edgworth 
 Bess obeyed. 
 
 But her limbs trembled, and her heart was filled with 
 forbodings of coming evil. 
 
 George Wild closed the door, and advanced towards 
 her. 
 
 But Edgworth Bess shrank back as she said, in tones of 
 aversion : 
 
 "Hence! I know you not! You are no friend of mine, 
 but a foe, for it is you who keep guard over this chamber !" 
 
 " Hush !" said Wild junior, again, who was not in the 
 least taken aback by this reception. " Do not speak so 
 loud, or you will ruin all ! What you say is perfectly 
 true, but I am disposed to stand your friend if you will 
 allow me to do so ! I know I guard this chamber ; I was 
 set to do it by Jonathan Wild, and I am answerable to 
 him with my life for your safe custody. But, as I said 
 before, I am willing to serve you and assist you to escape 
 if you will allow mo to do so !" 
 
 " Gh, sir, I know not whether to trust yot. I I have 
 been so deceived by those who I thought could have been 
 wholly trusted, that — that " 
 
 " You have suspicions now of everyone who offers to 
 be your friend !" 
 
 " Pardon me if I am unjust in your instance," replied 
 Edgworth Bess ; " but I must answer yes !" 
 
 " Oh, I pardon you freely enough ; you are quite right 
 to be suspicious of everybody, and more especially of me, 
 your gaoler ! But if you will listen to me, I will convince 
 you that I am sincere !" 
 
 " Oh, sir, if you can do that I shall be glad indeed ! I 
 will listen to yen with all earnestness! To be free, I 
 would give anything ; for to be in this dreadful house, in 
 the power of Jonathan Wild, is worse than death itself !" 
 
 "Exactly; and now I can come to tho point without 
 any trouble. I think you said just now, that you wou'd 
 give anything to escape ?" 
 
 "Yes — yes!" replied Edgworth Bess, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Then that is tile proof of my sincerity ; for, look you, 
 I do not profess to set you free for the mere sake of doing 
 Bo, or for your particular benefit ; but for the sake of the 
 reward whieh I shall obtain from you for so doing 1" 
 
 " Reward ?" 
 
 •'Yes." 
 
 " But I have no money !" 
 
 " I know that, but I am willing to trust you — give you 
 credit ! I understand more of your affairs than you do 
 yourself; if you have not money now, you will have it!" 
 
 " I ought to have it ! It is my right !" 
 
 " And you shall have it ; because, you see, it is to my 
 interest to help you to it. I shall want a little security, 
 that's all !" 
 
 " What security do I possess ?" 
 
 " Are you willing to give the security I require ?" 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " If I set you free, and enable you to obtain possession 
 of what is lawfully yours, will you — when you are firinly 
 established — will you reward me ?" 
 
 " Certainly !" 
 
 " Will you swear that, when all is done that I have 
 said, that you will give mo the reward when I demand 
 it?" 
 
 "What amount do you require ?" 
 
 " That is an important point in the present stage of the 
 affair. You do not know what I may have to do, nor 
 what services I may be able to render you, so that it would 
 be difficult to estimate the amount of the reward. I shall 
 leave that to you ! I merely want, just as a security, your 
 solemn promise, or your oath that, when I have doue 
 what I profess, you will reward me !" 
 
 Edgworth Bess hesitated. 
 
 She did not like tho idea of making such an uncendi- 
 tional promise. 
 
 Wild junior observed her hesitation. 
 
 " It is quite right for you to think over the matter ; but 
 the fact is, you see before you a man who is desirous of 
 bettering his condition ! I make no disguise about tho 
 matter ; I am willing to assist you, simply because I believe 
 that I shall advantage myself by bo doing ! Do you under- 
 stand that?" 
 
 " Perfectly well !" 
 
 " Is it a bargain ?" 
 
 " I can scarcely reply." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I should prefer to know what your expectations are ! 
 Y(*u must forgive me if I am suspieious. The reason is, 
 I have been made the unsuspecting victim of so much 
 villany." 
 
 " I don't mind your suspicions," said George Wild, with 
 an affectation of frank off-handedness, — "I don't mind 
 your suspicions, and I think I can remove yeur doubts 
 and fears about the reward I" 
 
 " Indeed ! How so ?" 
 
 " I will claim none." 
 
 "Claim none?" 
 
 " Even so." 
 
 " But I do not understand you !" 
 
 " Is it possible ? I thought my meaning was elear 
 enough ! I will explain." 
 
 " Pray do so." 
 
 " I will do all that I have promised if you wiH under- 
 take to reward me. I shall require your oath to that 
 effect ; but as to the reward itself, I shall leave tho nature 
 of it and the e-mount entirely in your hands. Do you 
 understand now ?" 
 
 " I think I do." 
 
 " I shall make no demand upon you. When all is doue 
 I will present myself before you and say, 'I have done all 
 that I promised to do, and I ask for my reward.' I shall 
 leave it to your own generosity ; you shall give me as 
 much or as little as you think proper. But you will admit 
 that, when the service is performed, you will be better 
 able to estimate the worth of it than you are now !" 
 
 " Certainly I shall !" 
 
 " Do you understand me now ?" 
 
 " I think so." 
 
 "Nay, are you not sure ?" 
 
 " Yes ; I am sure I understand you." 
 
 " That is enough, then. I must leave you now. I 
 have already stayed too long. During my absence you 
 will be able to think over what I have said, and make up 
 your mind whether you think it worth your while to agree 
 to my terms. For my own port, I cannot help thinking 
 that they are very fair and straightforward indeed." 
 
 "Well, then, leave me," said Edgworth Bess, "and I 
 will giro your proposal an attentive consideration. I have
 
 MLUWKBl: A BOMANCB. 
 
 cor 
 
 no one to advise with or cons»H bat myself, and I do net 
 wish to decide upon any course of aetioa with teo much 
 precipitation." 
 
 "I like you all the better," said George, "far taking 
 such a business-like view of the question as that. It makes 
 me think that we shall eventually come to an understanding 
 with eaeh other. Good night, lady ; I leave you until to- 
 morrow night, when I will ask for your reply." 
 
 With these words, Wild junior loft the room. 
 
 But by the time he gained his own apartment his coun- 
 tenance woro a totally different appearance. 
 
 " Ha, ha ! The first step is taken !" he said. " I have 
 succeeded beyond all hope or anticipation. Ha, ha ! I 
 6hall win yet 1" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD SUCCEEDS IN MAKING HIS ESCAPE FROI* 
 NEWGATE. 
 
 Such was the scene that was taking place while Jack 
 Sheppard looked over the parapet of Newgate on to Jona- 
 than Wild's house. 
 
 But he had no idea of it. 
 
 Could he but have been an auditor and spectator ef that 
 interview, how quickly he would have put Edgworth Bess 
 upon her guard. 
 
 He would not have been deceived by George Wild's 
 spaciousness. 
 
 He knew, from what Blueskin had told him, that the 
 thief-taker's son was a thousand times more to be dreaded 
 than the thief-taker himself. 
 
 He would have known in a moment that some deep 
 villany or other was in contemplation. 
 
 But, alas for her, Edgworth Bess did not possess this 
 knowledge ! 
 
 There seemed to be, indeed, every probability that she 
 would fall an easy prey into the hands of George Wild. 
 
 That individual himself fancied so, and he felicitated 
 himself accordingly, as he pictured the ultimate result of 
 his plot. 
 
 Clever as Jonathan Wild undoubtedly was, yet it seemed 
 as though be would be overmatched by his son. 
 
 Leaving them, however, for the present, we will return 
 to Jack, upon the roef of Newgato. 
 
 Having made up his mind that it would never answer 
 his purpose to descend on to the roof of Wild's house, he 
 turned away, and crept still further along the parapet. 
 
 The direction in which he now went took him towards 
 Newgate Market, and presently, as he looked down, he 
 saw beneath him the roof of a house. 
 
 It was at no great distance down, and he could see that 
 the garret window was swinging open. 
 
 This seemed to point at once to the route for free- 
 dom. 
 
 But the difficulty was to reach the roof, which was a 
 slanting one. 
 
 The distance to it was not s» great but that he eould 
 have dropped safely on to it, but then, owing to the steep- 
 ness and slipperiness of the tiles, he would never have 
 been able to retain his footing. 
 
 How, then, was he to proceed ? 
 
 He had no rope, and nothing that would serve in lieu of 
 one, by which he could gradually make the descent. 
 
 This was a puzzler, and Jack perplexed his brains in 
 vain to find a solution of the difficulty. 
 
 He measured the distance again and again, and calcu- 
 lated the chances of being able to let himself down on to 
 the roof and retain his footing; but eaeh time he was re- 
 luctautly forced to admit that the chances of success were 
 so slight as to make it too great a risk. 
 
 Time, too, was passing, and he dreaded each moment as 
 ho lingered to hear an alarm indicative that his absence 
 from his cell had been discovered. 
 
 Then, to be taken after working so hard and accom- 
 plishing so mueh, — to bo taken while standing, as it were, 
 upon the very threshold of liberty — the thought was too 
 terrible, and Jack felt that be would run any risk rather 
 than this should happen. 
 
 Suddenly, a thought occurred to him, but it involved so 
 much danger and risk of discovery that he was almost 
 ready to discard it as soon as it had glanced across his 
 mind. 
 
 But the thought came back again, and really it seemed 
 
 to present the only means by which the roof below could 
 be safely reached. 
 
 It seemed as though he would be compelled to adopt 
 this resource. 
 
 What was it ? 
 
 The reader will start at the boldness of the idea 
 
 In his cell — the cell from which he had with so much 
 difficulty made his way — there was an old blanket or 
 coverlet, which ho had used to keep off the cold to some 
 extent while sleeping. 
 
 It was the only thing in the shape of bedding which the 
 oilicials had allowed lum. 
 
 This blanket, torn into strips and tied together, would 
 form a rope by the aid of which he could descend in safety 
 to the roof of the house below. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard, even with all his boldness, shrank 
 somewhat from the idea of running into the lion's mouth, 
 for such it would be to return to the cell for the purpose 
 of fetching the blanket. 
 
 But this was the feat he had in contemplation — surely 
 the most desperate of any that he had performed. 
 
 To wait and hesitate would, however, do no good, and 
 at length, unable to think of any other means by which he 
 could complete his escape, Jark turned back, resolvod at all 
 hazards to retrace his steps to his cell and fetch the 
 blanket. 
 
 If he could only succeed in doing this without raising 
 any alarm, all the rest would bo easy. 
 
 He would be able to get elear off. 
 
 But it was something to be wondered at that he had 
 done so much as he had already without attracting the 
 attention of someone, or without his being missed frem his 
 place of confinement. 
 
 But having once made up his mind, Jack did not hesi- 
 tate. 
 
 With a quick, bold step, he crossed the leads towards 
 that part of the lower roof from whioh he had ascended. 
 
 Arriving here, he lowered himself down with much 
 greater ease than he had got up. 
 
 A push opened the door, which he had closed after him, 
 and he re-entered the passage. 
 
 The doors, however, between him and the chapel were 
 no longer able to obstruct his progress. 
 
 He passed through them with undiminished speed. 
 
 Arriving at the chapel, he made his way cautiously 
 across the stone-paved floor, and felt for the deor over 
 which he had elimbed after breaking away the spike. 
 
 Not without some difficulty, owing to the profound 
 darkness in this place, he found it 
 
 Little did he think on the former occasion that he 
 should so soon force his way again through the same 
 aperture. 
 
 In another moment the corridor was gained. 
 
 Here he paused to listea. 
 
 But no sound broke upon the silenGe. 
 
 Clearly his escape had not been discovered as yet. 
 
 Jack stopped no longer than was necessary just to con- 
 vince him that all was well, and then he direeted his steps 
 towards his cell or rather to the Red-room over it. 
 
 At the door of this he presently arrived. 
 
 Entering this, he made his way towards the firep^ce 
 where he had made the hole in the floor. 
 
 Then, with as much care as he could, he lowered him- 
 self into the abyss. 
 
 Another moment saw him standing in his cell. 
 
 But what a different cell it now seemed to be. 
 
 He was conscious that he had the power to leave the 
 moment he thought propor. 
 
 Again Jack listened, and again all was still. 
 
 Reassured by this, Jack possessed himself of the blanket 
 which he had run such a fearful risk to obtain. 
 
 Rolling it up into the smallest possible compass he pre* 
 pared to return. 
 
 Up the chimney he went into the Red-room. 
 
 From there to the Chapel. 
 
 Thence to the leads. 
 
 In his hurried course he had paused to listen onee or 
 twice, and each time he 6et forward with fresh confidence, 
 for the silenee remained unbroken. 
 
 Throwing the blanket up first, Jack then climbed up 
 to the higher portion of the prison roof in the same man- 
 ner as he had previously done. 
 
 Then snatching up this precious article he grossed the 
 leads t« the spot from which he had resolved to descend.
 
 Arriving here, he took up the blanket and saw that it 
 was sufficiently large to allow him to tear it up into three 
 portions. 
 
 This he did by the aid of his teeth and hands. 
 
 His next proceeding was to tie these three pieces 
 securely together. 
 
 Then lowering them down he was rejoiced to finu that 
 he had a rope sufficiently long to answer his purpose. 
 
 But a fresh difficulty presented itself. 
 
 How was he to make fast one end of the blanket upon 
 the wall while he lowered himself down by its aid. 
 
 It would require to be fastened very strongly so as to 
 bear his weight. 
 
 Should it give way he would inevitably be dashed to 
 pieces. 
 
 But as he looked around him, Jack could see no place to 
 which he could secure it. 
 
 At this fresh and unexpected obstacle he lost all 
 patience. 
 
 But he did not long give way to this feeling. 
 
 After accomplishing what he had it was not likely that 
 he would allow himself to be conquered by this. 
 
 But he looked about, and felt about, in vain for 6ome 
 object to which the blanket could be attached. 
 
 There was nothing but the bare walls. 
 
 He had almost began to despair of malting available the 
 blanket which he had run so much danger to obtain, when 
 he bethought himself of the spike which he had broken 
 off the door leading into the Chapel. 
 
 This had already done him good service, and it might 
 prove to be of still further use to him. 
 
 It was just possible that by the aid of the iron bar he 
 might be able to drive the spike in between two of the 
 etones with sufficient firmness to answer his purpose. 
 
 He resolved to try. 
 
 If this failed he was sure there was another re- 
 Bource. 
 
 Taking the spike from his pocket, and picking up the 
 iron bar, he selected a spot which ho imagined would best 
 answer his purpose. 
 
 Then he commenced to knock the spike in. 
 
 The mortar was hard, and the iron entered it with 
 difficulty. 
 
 When about half buried, Jack seized the spike and 
 pulled with his utmost strength. 
 
 But it was immovable. 
 
 _ With a feeling of the greatest joy and satisfaction about 
 his heart, he tied the blanket to the spike. 
 
 At length he had triumphed over every obstacle, in- 
 superable as some had seemed, and he was about to bid 
 farewell to the gloomy prison of Newgate. 
 
 Having tied the blanket to the spike, Jack lowered his 
 rope until it hung at full length. 
 
 Even then the end was some distance from the roof, but 
 he thought if he had hold of the extreme end of the rope 
 his feet would almost touch the tiles. 
 
 At least he resolved to make the attempt. 
 
 Slowly and cautiously then he committed himself to the 
 frail rope. 
 
 Should it break, or one of his hastily-tied knots give 
 way, nothing would save him from an instantaneous and 
 painful death. 
 
 Gently Jack allowed the blanket to slip through his 
 fingers. 
 
 As he got lower and lower he swayed about from side 
 to side by the wind, and was at times dashed so violently 
 against the stone walls of the prison as to make him ter- 
 ribly apprehensive as to whether the blanket would boar 
 such sudden and repeated strains. 
 
 He quickened his descent, which was the only thing it 
 lay in his power to do. 
 
 At length his hands grasped the extreme end of the 
 rope. 
 
 But now he swung about more than ever. 
 
 He looked down as well as he could. 
 
 The roof of the house was at no great distance beW T 
 still, as he hung down, the slanting portion was beneath 
 him, and it would require great care to alight upon it and 
 retain his footing. 
 
 He tried to cling closer to the wall, and then having got 
 his body tolerably steady, he let go. 
 
 He fell only a few inches, but to him it aeomed many 
 feet. 
 
 His feet slipped from under him. 
 
 He gasped for breath, as he thought he was hastening 
 to his death. 
 
 He clutched wildly at the slight projections in the tiles, 
 but he did nothing more than break his nails and bruise 
 his fingers. 
 
 Still, by his efforts, he succeeded in diminishing the 
 rapidity of his descent until at length his feet touched 
 gently the bottom of the parapet with which the roof of 
 the house was protected. 
 
 Here he remained for a few moments, wholly unable to 
 move. 
 
 He was utterly exhausted. 
 
 But the imminent danger of remaining where he was 
 roused him quickly into action. 
 
 Baising his head he looked for the open garret window. 
 
 It was within a short distance of him. 
 
 Encouraged by its proximity he endeavoured to ap- 
 proach it. 
 
 Slowly, for his strength seemed to have almost wholly 
 deserted him, he crept towards it. 
 
 His hand at length grasped the window sill. 
 
 He peeped in. 
 
 The interior of the garret was profoundly dark, and 
 from this circumstance, and the fact of the window being 
 open, Jack concluded that it was empty. 
 
 He drew himself up still further. 
 
 He remained for a moment before the window in such 
 a manner that if anyone had been inside the room they 
 must have seen him. 
 
 But all continued silent, and Jack now feeling tolerably 
 convinced that he had the place all to himself came still 
 nearer, until at length he 6tepped over the window sill 
 and stood inside the garret. 
 
 When once here his first proceeding was to close the 
 window and fasten it, in order to destroy as much as pos- 
 sible the traces of the route he took. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXIV. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD FINDS THAT THERE ARE STILL OBSTACLES 
 TO OVERCOME BEFORE HE CAN REACH THE STREET. 
 
 Jack Sheppard had become so accustomed to darkness 
 that notwithstanding the garret into which he had thus 
 intruded received no more light than came through the 
 little window from the night 6ky, yet he was able to see 
 about him with tolerable ease. 
 
 At any rate he distinguished the door immediately, and 
 lost no time in making his way towards it. 
 
 His intention was to steal down the stairs as quietly as 
 he possibly could and get out at the front door. 
 
 The silence which prevailed seemed to indicate that the 
 whole of the inhabitants of the dwelling had retired to 
 rest, and the lateness of the hour strengthened this sup- 
 position. 
 
 It was so late that even in London few persons would 
 be found out of bed. 
 
 This was very favourable to Jack, who did not doubt 
 that he had skill enough to descend the stairs and pass out 
 of the front door without awakening the inhabitants. 
 
 Without loss of time then he opened the door leading 
 out of the garret, and having done this he stood still and 
 listened. 
 
 He started. 
 
 From below thAie came the unmistakable sounds of 
 merriment and jollification. 
 
 Jack grasped the door-post and leaned out over tho 
 stairs to assure himself that he had not been deceived. 
 
 His sense of hearing had not played him false. 
 
 Laughter and loud voices could be heard distinctly. 
 
 " Curse this !" Jack muttered, when there was no longer 
 room for a doubt. " Curse this, it will spoil all ! What 
 am I to do ? HI attempt to descend I shall surely bo 
 discovered by someone." 
 
 This was sush an unlooked-for and unexpected event 
 that, as we have seen, it seriously discomposed Jack when 
 he first became cognisant of it. 
 
 " This will not do!" he added, after a brief pause. " I 
 must not be baulked by this. The danger is so much in- 
 creased ; and as for those who may attempt to stop me, let 
 them beware !" 
 
 With these half-spoken words upon his lips, Jack com- 
 menced the descent of the stairs.
 
 BLUESklN : ATroMANCE. 
 
 609 
 
 BLUESUIN INCAPACITATES JONATHAN WILD FROM GIVING EVIDENCE AGAINST HIM. 
 
 He soon found Hint ho could not proceed so quietly ns 
 he wished and fancied he should be able to do so. 
 
 The feetlocks which yet remained round his ankles 
 prevented him from moving noiselessly. 
 
 Nevertheless he crept down the stairs with all the 
 stealthfulness he could command. 
 
 Upon reaching the landing that was next beneath him 
 he paused a moment. 
 
 At present he was certain he had given no alarm. 
 
 The stairs beneath seemed dark and silent. 
 
 After listening again he concluded that the sounds ho 
 heard came from the first floor, while he was standing on 
 the third. 
 
 To descend to the second floor would not then be 
 attended with so great an amount of danger. 
 
 It would be the descent of the next flight which would 
 call for so much circumspection. 
 
 Slowly and quietly Jack made his way on te the land- 
 ing on the second floor. 
 
 Then he looked over the balusters. 
 
 No. 77. — Bluesket. 
 
 A faint gleam of light shot up from below. 
 
 While standing where he did he could not see from 
 whence it proceeded, but a slight change of position en- 
 abled him to do so. 
 
 He crept half-way down the flight leading to the first 
 floor. 
 
 Here there was a bend in the stairs, and here he paused 
 
 He now commanded a view of the first-floor landing. 
 
 The gleam of light came through a partially closed 
 door. 
 
 Jack was convinced in a moment that this door led into 
 the room where the company was assembled. 
 
 Someone was singing a song in rather a boisterous tone 
 of voice. 
 
 At the end of each verse there was the jingling of 
 glasses as they were clinked against each other for 
 chorus. 
 
 No one knows how that song grated upon Jack's ears. 
 
 While he stood deliberating whether to descend, the 
 voices ceased. 
 
 No. 77.
 
 «te 
 
 BBOESKJN : A KOMAN6B. 
 
 The singing was succeeded by tho murmur of conver- 
 sation. 
 
 If Jack remained until a change took place ke would 
 probably have to wait till after daylight. 
 
 At all hazards he resolved to daseend. 
 
 The only danger woulol bo in passing the door. 
 
 That would not take him a moment. 
 
 It was now more than ever necessary that his progress 
 should be noiseless. 
 
 Down the r-oniaining stairs he crept without causing a 
 B«und. 
 
 He was within a few steps of the door when the fetters 
 on his ankles clanked together. 
 
 " What noise is that ?" ho heard a voice ask in tones of 
 terror. 
 
 It was a woman's voice. 
 
 " Don't be frightened f" said another voice. 
 
 This was a man's. 
 
 The accents were thick, evidently from the effects of 
 drink. 
 
 Another cried : 
 
 " Oh, it's only the dog, or the cat, perhaps." 
 
 More than this Jack did not wait to hear. 
 
 Fearful of proceeding he retreated, and ascended the 
 stairs with marvellous celerity and silence. 
 
 Perhaps it was as well he acted thus. 
 
 Those who occupied the reom came to the door with 
 candles in their hands and looked about them. 
 
 As there was nothing to be seen the noise was set down 
 to the cause assigned for it. 
 
 As they were about to re-enter the room and sit down 
 again someone came up from the lower part ©f the house. 
 
 It was the servant. 
 
 She was questioned, but could give no solution to the 
 mysterious sound. 
 
 They then retired to the room again. 
 
 Jack congratulated himself upon his luck in happening 
 to turn back, for bad he descended the other stairs ke 
 would have encountered the servant, and his discovery 
 woald ha-ve taken place. 
 
 But what was to bo done now? 
 
 The act of passing by the half-open door was ten times 
 more dangerous than before, for now those within would 
 be doubly on the look-out. 
 
 Jaek pressed his hands to his head, uncertain kow to act. 
 
 At tkis moment tkere came over kim suck a feeling of 
 utter fatigue and exkaustion tkat it was witk difficulty 
 tkat he retained kis feet. 
 
 Indeed, had he not suddenly clutched the balusters he 
 would have fallen to the ground. 
 
 He was now beginning to feel tke effects of kis tre- 
 mendous exertions. 
 
 " I must rest !" ke gasped. " I must rest ! It will be 
 folly for me to go in tke street while in tkis frigktful state 
 of weakness. 1 must rest a little wkile. I will creep 
 back to the attic and lie down tkere a little wkile. I shall 
 be safe, for my escape' will not be discovered until the 
 turnkeys go the first round in the morning." 
 
 This did not seem the most prudent of resolutions to 
 take, but, nevertheless, Jack acted upon it. 
 
 There was no certainty whatever as to the time when 
 his escape would be discovered, and his proximity to 
 Newgate could net fail to be dangerous. 
 
 Yet, en the other hand, as he has truly said, it was per- 
 feat folly for him to think of getting into the street wkile 
 in suck a desperate state of fatigue as ke then was. 
 
 He felt as tkougk he could scarcely place one foot before 
 tke otker to mount tke st;urs. 
 
 At lengtk, kowever, to kis satisfaction tke door of tke 
 attic was readied. 
 
 He pusked it open and entered. 
 
 Tke ckamber was unfurnisked. 
 
 Tke articles it contained were some boxes and otker 
 lumber piled up in one earner. 
 
 But Jack did not care for this. 
 
 As soon as ke kad got inside ke closed tke door behind 
 hun and lay down at full length on the floor. 
 
 But he took care to do so in such a manner as to make 
 it impossible for the door to be opened without awakening 
 him. 
 
 Then, with a hardihood scarcely to be comprehended, 
 lie elesed his eyes and went to sleep. 
 
 Ho knew that this would give nun a fresh lease of 
 strength. 
 
 But who, save Jack Sheppard, could have slept soundly 
 as he did under such ckcumstances. 
 
 Had he been surrounded with every security, and had 
 his limbs oeposed upon the softest of feather beds, he could 
 not have slept more quietly and dreainlessly than he did. 
 
 But his slumber was not of long duration.* 
 
 As soon as Nature had to some extent recuperated her- 
 self, his mind began to exercise itself. 
 
 In bis sleep he went over all his past actions. 
 
 He dreamt all that had occurred to him up te the moment 
 he laid himself down, and then he fancied a body of police- 
 officers burst into the room and pounced upon hhn vrtil& 
 ke slept. 
 
 So vivid was tkis fancy tkat it awoke kim. 
 
 He even started straggling to his feet. 
 
 But he soon discovered that the danger existed in his 
 ewn imagination only, and he calmed himself. 
 
 His brain was for a moment or two rather confused, 
 but he quickly gathered kis senses about kim. 
 
 How long ke kad slept ke was unable to form any idea. 
 
 One tbing, kowever, was quite certain, it was not yet 
 daybreak, nor could ke perceive tke slightest signs of the 
 coming dawn. 
 
 Once more he opened the doon, listened, and crept down 
 tke stairs again. 
 
 In a few minutes ke got in sight ef the door which had 
 proved so serious an obstacle to kis escape. 
 
 He could still kear voices. 
 
 He croucked down upon tke stairs and listened. 
 
 "Not a moment more, my good sir," ke keard a man's 
 voice say. " D — d — don't mind me ! All jolly you 
 know ! !£eep tke pot boiling — (kiceup) — and all that sert 
 of thing ! But I must go. I promised— (hie) — promised — 
 and — kic " 
 
 "He's promised kis wife," said another voice, the tones 
 of which were decidedly uproarious. " He's promised 
 his wife to go home. Ha, ha !" 
 
 "Ha, ha!" was laughed in ckorus by the whole of tke 
 guests. 
 
 "No, no — gemmea! Upon my word," said tke first 
 speaker. " It's too — too bad — (hie) — to say — (hie) — such 
 a thing as tkat. But I must go ; I can't stay any longer." 
 
 " Ok, never mind your wife, old boy. Stop along witk 
 me. Don't desert your friends. We'll aH go home with 
 tko milk in the morning f" 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Bravo ! Ye3 ! S© we will !" said a number 
 of exeited voices. 
 
 "Sorry to leave you — (hie) — gemmen; very sorry! 
 But upon my word, I can't stop — I can't, indeed !" 
 
 "Well, good night, old fellow! Never mind your 
 missus ! Wait a minute, and I'll ring tlie bell for tke 
 servant to come with the candle. You won't be able to 
 find your way down in tke dark." 
 
 The tinkling of a bell in tko lower regions of tke kouse 
 now struck upon Jack's ears. 
 
 " I will make a bold rusk for it," ke muttered. "It ia 
 eertain destruction if 1 remain kere." 
 
 He could now kear tke servant ascending, and presently 
 after ke caught sight of her. 
 
 She was carrying a caudle. 
 
 " Show this gentleman dowustairs to the door, Sarah. 
 Light him carefully, for the stairs are awkward, you 
 know !" 
 
 "Goodnight, gemmen!" said the individual, who for 
 some reason or other was so desirous to be gone, and 
 whose mode of speech showed that he was far gone in 
 intoxication. " Good night, gemmen ! Sorry to leave 
 you ! Enjoy yourselves ! Good night !" 
 
 " Good night to you, old fellow !" r-esponded several, 
 speaking all at once — "Good night to you !" 
 
 Tke servant, witk tke candle in ker hand, bow came 
 out on to tke landing. 
 
 She was closely followed by the departing guest, who 
 pulled the door close shut after kim. 
 
 Jaek was rejoiced. 
 
 He had resolved to follow tkis pair downstairs and tken 
 watck kis opportunity to slip out. 
 
 Tke inebriated gentleman said sometking to tke girl, 
 but Jack did not keed wkat. 
 
 Tkey began to go down. 
 
 * Jack Sheppard actually did return to the garret and Bleep 
 exactly in the manner here described— that is, if his own coh- 
 
 f uBsiou is to be beliiwed.
 
 Jack descended to the first-floor landing. 
 
 Then he crossed'it and passed the door. 
 
 He oommenced the descent of the stairs eommvmieating 
 with the ground floor. 
 
 The gleam of the candle which the servant carried 
 flickered fit/ally upon the walls. 
 
 He could hear tho murmur of their voices as they pre- 
 ceded him. 
 
 From their manner it was easy to conclude that they 
 had no idea anyone was following them. 
 
 Jack was careful not to get too close, for fear he should 
 be OTorbeard. 
 
 He had everything to fear from an immediate alarm. 
 
 Cautiously he crept down, taking pains -not to decrease 
 the distance between them. 
 
 Suddenly a door closed, and the light vanished instantly 
 from Jack's view. 
 
 It was the door at the bottom of the stairs. 
 
 In one mere moment ho reached it. 
 
 He pushed it open and cast a hasty glanee along the 
 passage. 
 
 A gush of cold air came upon his face, aud he saw the 
 servant standing on the doos-step. 
 
 Jack approached her with rapid yet stealthful strides. 
 
 When he reached the door she turned round. 
 
 They confronted each ether. 
 
 The girl opened her mouth to scream. 
 
 But Jack did not lose his presence of mind for a single 
 instant. 
 
 With the rapidity of thought he seized the candle aad 
 thwist it, lighted as it was, into the girl's mouth. 
 
 The servant's scream and the flame of the candle were 
 extinguished at *he same moment. 
 
 Jaek eKd not wait for more, but darted out into the street 
 with the velocity of au arrow. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXV. 
 
 JACK SHBPPAHD FLIES FOR SAFETY TO THE COUNTRY, 
 AND SEBKS SHELTER IN A RU1-NEB HUT. 
 
 Once more, contrary to the expectations of everyone, 
 Jack Sheppard stood a free man in the streets of London. 
 
 Slackening his speed only a very little, he made Vis way 
 past St. Sepulchre's Watch-house. 
 
 With his heart full of elation, he called out " Good 
 morrow i" to the watchman and continuod on his way. 
 
 Down fij£ow Hill and up Holborn he went, leaving St. 
 Andrew's Watch on the left. 
 
 fie passed the Watch-houso at Holbern Bars, and turned 
 down Gray's Inn Lane. 
 
 This portion of London was then very different to what 
 it ia to-day. 
 
 Gray's Inn was then a comparatively new and modern- 
 looking edifice. 
 
 But beyond this, going towards King's Cross, there was 
 sce*Gely a house to be seen. 
 
 Green fields and trees were about him on every side. 
 
 Summoning what strength ho had, Jack hastened on. 
 
 He knew That when his escape was discovered the 
 closest search would be made after kim. 
 
 His best plan then would be to get as far away from 
 London as he could in the shortest possible space of 
 time. 
 
 He fancied that if he took his course straight off into the 
 country his enemies would be baffled in their search for 
 him. 
 
 About bis ultimate proceedings he had thought nothing. 
 
 He knew from former experience the futility of laying 
 has plans far in advance. 
 
 So many events might occur of which he could form no 
 previous conception, every one of whieh would have the 
 effect of totally deranging whatever plans he might have 
 formed. 
 
 Jack then was eontent to keep before him the one idea 
 of getting out of the way of whatever pursuit might be 
 commenced after him. 
 
 He argued reasonably enough that he had left no track 
 behind him. 
 
 He was certain there was nothing whish would indicate 
 that he had gene into this part of the country. 
 
 He had gone north, but his foes would n«t bo able to 
 tell whether ho had gone south, oast, or wost. 
 
 Inspired by this feeling, he kept on at a run for a long 
 way. 
 
 He would no dotfbt have plenty of time to think about 
 his future proceedings when he had found seme temporary 
 asylum. 
 
 His fset were etfll encumbered with the fettess, and 
 they galled and fretted the skin about his ankles ter- 
 ribly. 
 
 Gradually his pace slackened, until at length life run 
 became a walk. 
 
 Still it was a bris' walk, and one that got over tho 
 ground with great rapidity. 
 
 He could see no signs of it as yet, but still he felt cer- 
 tain that the dawn was close at hand. 
 
 The whole face of the heavens had, however, become 
 covered with one huge cloud of a dull greyish tint, which 
 concealed the firs* rays of daylight 
 
 Jack did not keep along the main road, but turned 
 slightly to the left, across tho fields. 
 
 For the most part, ho took his way along the footpaths 
 that ran behind the hedges with which tho meadows were 
 defended. 
 
 In this manner he was able to keep his body concealed 
 from the view of any persons who might be travelling tho 
 high road. 
 
 He wished, if possible, to reach some quiet country 
 plaee withoHt being seen by a single soul. 
 
 In this endeavour he had so far succeeded. 
 
 At times, however, a deadly and terrible sensation of 
 faintness would come over him. 
 
 It was the result of his superhuman exertions. 
 
 Nothing save the conviction, ever beforo his mind, that 
 upon his speed depended the ultimate success of his escape 
 would have enabled him to proceed. 
 
 To add to hia discomfort, rain now began to fall. 
 
 At first, the drops came slowly ; but they soon increased, 
 until the rain came down like a perfect sheet of water. 
 
 Jack was wet through in a moment. 
 
 H3 still toiled on. 
 
 If anything, the coolness of the air was pleasing to 
 him. 
 
 Perspiration streamed from his body at every pore, and 
 the rain rose from his garments converted into vapour. 
 
 He had now travelled a long way. 
 
 C uite far enough to answer his purposes he thought, 
 and therefore he began to look about him for some place 
 of s lelter. 
 
 He had a tolerably good idea whereabouts he was. 
 
 He had made up his mind he was in the fields some- 
 where near Tottenham Court, and this was indeed tho 
 fact. 
 
 But, though ho looked all around him, Jaok was unable 
 to perceivo habitation of any sort, or even the signs of 
 one. 
 
 To be sure he could not see far in consequence of tho 
 thiekness of the atmosphere and tho descending rain. 
 
 He was thoug in a place whero dwellings were far 
 apart. 
 
 It was not Jack's wish to enter any inhabited place for 
 fear he shoiild be suspected. 
 
 And thf*t suspicion would be aroused seemed certain, 
 for how could he conceal the fetters which still chu% 
 round his legs ? 
 
 They were partially hidden it is true, but they would 
 nevertheless have been discovered. 
 
 He wanted some place that was c ust possible \o afford 
 him shelter. 
 
 Some place where he could remain ou of sight during 
 the day, and from which he could emerge 'nsuspected at 
 night. 
 
 The difficulty was where to find such a place. 
 
 Jack trudged on steadily. 
 
 The rain came down without abatement. 
 
 In respect to the effect it would have in keeping people 
 out of the fields, it was perhaps a favourable circumstance 
 to Jack. 
 
 A dim, misty-grey light stole over the face of Nature, 
 showing that day had fairly began, but not a hunan being 
 could Jack Shoppard see. 
 
 Hoi- could he find a place such as he wished for. 
 
 So tired was he, that at times ho almost felt inclined to 
 K© down under the h«dge and rest there. 
 
 But tho risk of being seen mado him resolve not to 
 adopt the expedient until he wm actually forced to i*.
 
 612 
 
 BLUESKJN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Presently, to his joy he saw a few fields off a building 
 which promised to answer his purpose. 
 
 Inspired with this hope he forsook the path he had been 
 following, and directed his steps towards it. 
 
 Wpon a nearer approach he found it was a kind of 
 labourer's cottage, such as are seen dotted about a 
 farm. 
 
 But it was in a state of the utmost dilapidation, and 
 on that wet morning looked inexpressibly dreary and 
 wretched. 
 
 Jack hastened towards it with a lightened heart. 
 
 He was sure no one was within the building, for the 
 door was swinging open. 
 
 In appearance it more resembled a huge shed than 
 aught else. 
 
 Upon reaching the door Jack leaned forward and peeped 
 in. 
 
 The interior had even a more shed-like view than 
 the exterior, for on the floor there was a small quan- 
 tity of damp, decaying straw, which indicated that cattle 
 of some kind or ether had been placed there. 
 
 Jack gave a sigh of relief. 
 
 The silence that reigned all round convinced him that 
 he had the place all to himself. 
 
 " At last," he murmured, " at last I have found a place 
 of shelter !" 
 
 Before he entered, however, he took the precaution to 
 look all around him over the fields as far as he could see, 
 in order to ascertain whether there was anyone watching 
 his movements. 
 
 But apparently not a single human being was in sight ; 
 and, feeling tolerably secure from interruption, Jack 
 entered the hut. 
 
 He hesitated for a moment or two whether he should 
 leave the door open, as he found it, or close it. 
 
 The first he fancied was most prudent, but then the cold 
 and the rain blew in so terribly that he felt he could not 
 remain without the door was closed. 
 
 Not without some trouble, he pulled it to ; and, in order 
 to retain it in this position, he was obliged to place a 
 stone against it. 
 
 The hut was then rendered a great deal more com- 
 fortable. 
 
 He next gathered up what straw there was lying about 
 the floor and placed it in one corner. 
 
 Upon this rude bed he lay down with a feeling of the 
 deepest thankfulness about his heart. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the feeling of fatigue 
 which he experienced. 
 
 Every bone and muscle in his body ached, while his 
 legs were terribly swollen and bruised by the fetters. 
 
 Much as they galled him, Jack made no attempt to take 
 them off. 
 
 He was too tired to do anything save lie down. 
 
 When he had rested himself he promised he would try 
 what could be done. 
 
 It was nothing but natural that having once laid down 
 Nature should seek to restore herself by sleep. 
 
 No sooner did Jack's eyes close than he fell off into a 
 profound and dreamless slumber, in which he forgot not 
 only his past sufferings and present fatigue, but his future 
 trials. 
 
 This sleep continued for many hours without inter- 
 mission. 
 
 When he finally awoke it was broad daylight- 
 He sprang to his feet and looked about him. 
 
 He could see nothing to cause apprehension. 
 
 He went to the door of the hut, and, opening it, peeped 
 out. 
 
 The rain still continued to fall steadily. 
 
 Not a single being was in sight, and so heavily and in- 
 cessantly had the rain come down that it lay upon the 
 ground in large pools of water. 
 
 Jack turned away from this cheerless prospect with a 
 shudder. 
 
 Still he had much to be thankful for. 
 
 Owing to the sky continuing to be obscured with clouds 
 he was unable to see the sun. 
 
 Could he but have ascertained its position in the sky he 
 would have been able to form some idea as to how far the- 
 day was advanced. 
 
 As it was he could not tell whether it was morning or 
 afternoon. 
 
 One thing, however, was quite certain. 
 
 By this time his escape had been most certainly dis- 
 covered, and a pursuit commenced. 
 
 But he had been left undisturbed, and from this he 
 argued that his foes had failed to get upon his trask. 
 
 Here then was ample room for hope and congratu- 
 lation. 
 
 JaGk shut the door again, and then rested himself upon 
 his straw couch. 
 
 His feet and ankles pained him excessively, and he pro- 
 ceeded to examine them. 
 
 The bazils, or iron rings, around his ankles were of 
 thick iron, and had been fastened on with a rivet. 
 
 The only means by which they could be removed were 
 by filing tiirough them, or else by means of a hammer and 
 a email punch to drive the rivets out with. 
 
 The first would be a work of time, but Jack was not 
 able to perform it. 
 
 No tongue could tell how bitterly he regretted the 
 breakage of the two files. 
 
 He had thrown the fragments aside as being useless, but 
 now he wished he had one of them. 
 
 That was a vain wish. 
 
 He fancied that if the piece had been ever so small he 
 should have been able to achiove his purpose. 
 
 But what was to be done ? 
 
 It was quite certain the fetters would have to be re- 
 moved, but how was he to get rid of them ? 
 
 The second means of taking them off was quite out of 
 the question, for he had neither hammer nor punch, nor 
 could he see the slightest prospect of being able to obtain 
 possession of either of these two articles. 
 
 To leave his present place of concealment while they 
 hung dangling at his heels would be to ensure dis- 
 covery. 
 
 What was to be done ? 
 
 He resolved to think. 
 
 First of all he produced all the money ho had remaining 
 in his pocket, and counted it up. 
 
 He found he possessed between forty and fifty shil- 
 lings. 
 
 This was all the money he had in the world. 
 
 This was not over consoling, and he returned the coins 
 to his pocket again. 
 
 The pangs of hunger and thirst began, too, to make 
 themselves felt, and he was without the means of assuaging 
 either. 
 
 Nor would be able to do so until he had got rid of the 
 fetttrs. 
 
 He racked his brain in vain to think of some means by 
 which he could get out of them. 
 
 It was to no purpose, however. 
 
 He was obliged to give up in despair. 
 
 In this miserable manner he passed the time until he 
 was warned by the increase of darkness of the approach of 
 night. 
 
 He went to the door again and looked out. 
 
 The rain had ceased, but the atmosphere was thick and 
 heavy. 
 
 Night was coming on with rapid strides. 
 
 As before, no one was in sight. 
 
 Jack stood for some time leaning with his back against 
 the door-post looking out, watching night close in. 
 
 As he did so he felt the craving for food increase to an 
 intolerable degree. 
 
 "I must have food," he said. "I must have it at all 
 risks. If I remain here I shall neither obtain that nor get 
 rid of my fetters, and yet both must be done. Let me 
 think — let me think ! Yes, that will do !" 
 
 Jack had thought of a plan, and ho now went back into 
 the hut to carry it into execution. 
 
 This was to try whether he could not conceal his irons 
 in a more effectual nanner than he had done when he tied 
 them up so hastily in the dungeon. 
 
 At any rate his sole chance was to conceal them |so as 
 not to attract attention. 
 
 This task occupied him some time, but at length feeling 
 somewhat satisfied as to the result, he rose to his feet. 
 
 Favoured by the darkness of the night he hoped to be 
 able to escape detection. 
 
 At any rate he resolved to make the attempt. 
 
 He approached the door of the hut — looked forth for a 
 moment, and then, fancying the coast was clear glided off 
 into the darknes*
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 613 
 
 CHAPTEK OCOLXXVI. 
 
 BLUESKIN STABS JONATHAN WILD IN THE ANTECHAMBER, 
 AND SO INCAPACITATES HOI FROM GIVING H*S EVI- 
 DENCE. 
 
 The proceedings of Jack Sheppard have of late been of 
 so important and highly interesting a character that we 
 have been unable to break the thread of the narrative 
 until the present moment. 
 
 Now, however, as he is menaced by no immediate 
 danger, we will leave him and return to the doings of 
 other characters in our narrative. 
 
 To do so, we shall be obliged to ga back many hours. 
 
 Blueskin has received no share of attention lately, 
 although in so perilous a predicament ; and we have also 
 to account for that which puzzled Jack so much, namely, 
 the non-appearance at the accustomed hours of his old 
 enemy Jonathan Wild. 
 
 The reader may be sure something of an unusual cha- 
 racter must have taken place, or Jack would have seen 
 something of his pursuers. 
 
 Let us, however, describe events as far as possible in 
 tho order in which they they took place. 
 
 To begin then with Jonathan Wild. 
 
 After having procured Blueskin's commitment to New- 
 gate ho became very busy indeed. 
 
 The reader may be sure that the capture of Blueskin 
 happening so unexpectedly as it did, interfered materially 
 with the precise course of action which he had chalked 
 out. 
 
 He wished the trial and execution of Blueskin to take 
 place as speedily as possible, and this necessitated a great 
 deal of extra trouble upon his part. 
 
 The frequent visits to Jack Sheppard which he had so 
 firmly made up his mind to pay became absolutely im- 
 possible, and this is the reason Jack saw so little of him 
 diming the latter part of his imprisonment, though it is 
 not the reason why, in the end, he failed to pay any visits 
 at all. 
 
 It was first of all necessary to have a case against Blue- 
 skin, and one, too, that would not fail. 
 
 Now this was not the easiest matter in the world. 
 
 To find out prosecutors, and get together witnesses, in 
 order to complete a case is a matter of time, and Jonathan 
 soon discovered that he must either allow Blueskin's trial 
 to stand over until next sessions, or else by the adoption 
 of some clever expedient get him disposed of at once. 
 
 As the former would disarrange, in a great measure, 
 the scheme which he had formed, Jonathan resolved upon 
 the latter. 
 
 Having pondered over this for some little time, the 
 thief -taker fancied he could not do better than put into 
 practice a little scheme which hitherto had never failed to 
 accomplish the end desired. 
 
 It was to get up, or, rather, fabricate some fictitious 
 charge against the prisoner of so simple and clear a 
 character, as to make conviction certain. 
 
 To do this, it would be necessary to employ a certain 
 lawyer, who always managed these sort of cases in a 
 manner highly satisfactory to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Having given him the particulars, Jonathan next pro- 
 ceeded to get the services of two persons : one to swear 
 to having had certain articles taken from him by the 
 prisoner, and the other to corroborate what he said. 
 
 This Jonathan managed, and drilled all the particulars 
 into them. 
 
 As the facts of the case were exceedingly simple, he 
 did not very much dread failure. 
 
 He know well enough the impolicy of having an in- 
 tricate case, in which the witnesses would get confused. 
 
 Then Jonathan reserved a little share in the business 
 for himself. 
 
 Such was the plot he had manufactured against our old 
 friend Blueskin ; and when we say that he had made h 
 complete in every respect, the reader will be able to un- 
 derstand that the exertions he had made to bring about 
 such a stato of things were decidedly of a superhuman 
 character. 
 
 It took up the whole of his time, that is certain. 
 
 On Thursday Jonathan had everything ready. 
 
 He had seen Mr. Noakes, and obtained from that amiable 
 functionary a most solemn promise that while he was un- 
 avoidably occupied with Blueskin's case he would be un- 
 remitting in his attentions to Jack Sheppard. 
 
 With the promise thus obtained the thief-taker was 
 forced to rest content. 
 
 As to how faithfully Mr. Noakes had performed it let 
 the reader judge by what we have related. 
 
 All this time Blueskin had remained in his cell a prey 
 to the deepest possible dejection. 
 
 How it had come upon him he scarcely knew. 
 
 Most likely it was the conviction which, strive as he 
 would, he could not keep from pressing on his mind, that it 
 was useless to struggle — that Jonathan would indubitably 
 triumph. 
 
 What was more hopekss than the prospect before him. 
 
 He was a prisoner, heavily ironed, and guarded with 
 treble care. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was in the same predicament, and beyond 
 all doubt Edgworth Bess was a prisoner in Wild's house. 
 
 There was no direction, look where he would, in which 
 he could seoure a ray of comfort or consolation. 
 
 And so, as we have said, a feeling of deep dejeetion took 
 hold of him, and he strove in vain against its influence. 
 
 He knew not the precise nature of the charge that was 
 to be preferred against him. 
 
 All that he had been able to learn was that it was a 
 charge of highway robbery. 
 
 All particulars were denied him. 
 
 At length Friday morning came. 
 
 The turnkeys found him in just the same position. 
 
 It had been arranged that Blueskin's trial should take 
 place the first thing, and so immediately after breakfast 
 the blacksmith entered the cell to knock off his fetters. 
 
 The prisoners were never taken to the dock in irons. 
 
 Blueskin stood still and quiet enough while the black- 
 smith performed his duty. 
 
 But he felt rather better when he was freed from these 
 unpleasant incumbrances. 
 
 In case the reader may fall into any error, we here ven- 
 ture to remind him that the events which we are now re- 
 cording took place on the morning preceding the night 
 upon which Jack Sheppard effected his escape. 
 
 Mr. Noakes, the Governor, made his appearance in 
 Blueskin's cell just as the blacksmith was knocking out 
 the last rivet. 
 
 "Hold him fast!" he said, addressing himself to the turn- 
 keys. " He's a desperate character, but, thank goodness, 
 the case against him is so clear and straightforward that 
 he is sure not to escape his just fate. Tyburn Tree groans 
 for him, that it does !" 
 
 In obedience to the command of their superior, the 
 turnkeys tightened their grasp upon Blueskin's collar. 
 
 He, however, made no resistance, and altogether dis- 
 dained to take the slightest notice of the Governor's re- 
 marks. 
 
 This exasperated Mr. Noakes, who would have been 
 better pleased if he could have succeeded in aggravating 
 him. 
 
 " Bring him along ! — bring him along !" he said pre- 
 sently to the turnkeys. " It will soon be all over with 
 him. Oome along ! " 
 
 " The Court's hardly seated, sir." 
 
 " Never mind ; we'll take him to the outer chamber, and 
 have him there in readiness. Look after him !" 
 
 The Governor stood aside, and the turnkeys led Blue- 
 skin passively and unresisting out of his cell. 
 
 Mr. Noakes followed, with a pompous step. 
 
 It was perfectly true that the Judge had not yet taken 
 his seat upon the bench, but, nevertheless, Mr. Noakes 
 thought he would have Blueskin at hand in good time. 
 
 With his head bowed down, our old friend suffered him- 
 self to be led towards his destination. 
 
 He heeded not the stone passage through which they 
 passed ; he took not the slightest notice of their route. 
 
 When they paused, then, he raised his head and looked 
 '.■bout him. 
 
 He found he was standing in a small stone chamber, to 
 all appearance quite as strong as the cell from which ho 
 - -id just been brought. 
 
 A.s the turnkeys, too, numbered seven or eight, he was 
 tolerably secure. 
 
 The door through which they had passed to enter thi3 
 place they closed after them, and securely fastened. 
 
 On the other side there was another door, very massive, 
 and of great strength. 
 
 Beyond there was a flight of steps, which led up into 
 the dock.
 
 614 
 
 BLT5ESKIN : A KOMANCE. 
 
 There was a stone bench along one side of this chamber, 
 and on this Blueskin was permitted to sit down. 
 
 A turnkey placed himself on either side of him._ 
 
 Bhieskio, having taken a glance round, subsided into 
 his former attitude, and the turnkeys, observing this, re- 
 laxed their vigilance somewhat. 
 
 Some minutes would elapse before business commenced, 
 and so they chatted idly to each other. 
 
 The turnkey who sat on Blueslrins right hand took out 
 a clasp-knife — truly a formidable weapon — and some 
 bread and cheese, which ho set about eating with great 
 relish. 
 
 He was thus engaged when Jonathan WM entered the 
 chamber. 
 
 His countenance was contracted into a derisive sniile, 
 and folding his arms, he stood for a moment or two look- 
 ing at the prisoner, ex-ulting over his downcast appear- 
 ance. 
 
 But Blueskin remained unmoved. 
 
 To speak the truth, Wild was not a little surprised at 
 theprisoner's dejection. 
 
 He could scarcely account for it. 
 
 " What Blue, old boy," he cried, in a moeking t©ne of 
 voice — " are you so down in the mouth ? I thought you 
 would die game, but you don't look much like it now !" 
 
 Blueskin took no more notice of Wild's words than if he 
 had never spoken them. 
 
 Jonathan came nearer. 
 
 " Ha, ha, my friend ! do you recollect the pleasant little 
 bit of conversation we had not very loug ago ? If you do, 
 perhaps you will remember a certain offer that I made to 
 you. I told yeu what the consequences would be, 
 didn't I ?" 
 
 Wild touched him on the shoulder as he spoke. 
 
 Blueskin looked up savagely. 
 
 " You had best keep your hands off !" he 6aid. 
 
 " What ! Have you found your tongue at last ? Ha, ha ! 
 well done ! Don't yeu wish you had said yes, when you 
 had the chance ? I know you do ! ,But it's too late now. Blue 
 — it's too late ! The whole affair is cut and dried, and has 
 gone so far as to be beyond my control — even mine ! I 
 could Hot call you back, or keep your head out of the 
 halter, if I was even so minded. But you shall swing ! 
 I'm going to be a witness against you, Blue — a principal 
 witness, for I shall swear to your identity. They won't 
 shake my evidence by cross-examination, I know — I am 
 too old a hand at that sort of thing !" 
 
 lire this, the reader must have noticed that™Jonathan 
 Wild took an insane delight in thus tormenting and teas- 
 ing any ef his prisoners. 
 
 It delighted him to work them up to an ungovernable 
 pitch of fury, and then watch their impotent rage. 
 
 He could tell by the flashing glances that came frem 
 Blueskin's eyes that he was getting enraged, and he 
 hastened to insrease the effect he had already pro- 
 duced. 
 
 " I shall get up into the witness-box,'' said Wild. " Ha, 
 ha ! — what fun ! When I am asked whether I know you, 
 I shall say, ' My lord, I know this man very well. He 
 was formerly a police-officer, and now ' " 
 
 " You lie !" exclaimed Blueskin, in a voice of thunder 
 — " you lie ! You will net say a word this day if I can 
 prevent you." 
 
 While he spoke these words, Blueskin, to the surprise 
 and consternation of all present, started to his feet before 
 anyone had the least idea of what he was about to do. 
 
 His eye was on the open clasp knife which the turnkey 
 who sat next to him held in his hand, and, pouncing upon 
 it like a hawk upon its prey, he wrested it from the man's 
 grasp with lightning-like rapidity. 
 
 Then bounding forward, he seized Jonathan by the 
 throat, and bore him backwards to the ground. 
 
 Then he inflicted a terrible wound in the thief-taker's 
 neck, from which the blood spurted out in incredible quanti- 
 ties. 
 
 So suddenly was all this performed, that a clock eoulc- 
 not have ticked thrice while Blueskin sprang to his feet 
 6eized the knife, and stabbed his fee with ft. 
 
 He would have repeated his blow — indeed, the weapon 
 was in the very act of descending when his arm was 
 arrested by the turnkeys, who by this time had recovered 
 from the state of utter amazement and confusion into 
 wki»h they had been thrown. 
 
 By their united strength they succeeded in dragging 
 
 Blueskin away from Jsmathan Wild, who fell heavily at 
 fulllengfch upon the floor. 
 
 The knife was wrested from Blueskin's grasp, and his 
 arms held tightly by four turnkeys, while the remainder, 
 together with the Governor, stooped over the prostrate 
 form of the thief-taker, and endeavoured to ascertain the 
 extent of the hurts he had received. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXVII. 
 
 IT SEEMS AFTFR ALL AS THOUGH JONATHAN WILD IS 
 DESTINED TO DIE BY THE HANGMAN'S KOPE. 
 
 There was no trouble to hold Bluesldn. 
 
 Having, as he thought, accomplished his purpose, he 
 relapsed into his former apathetic state, except that he 
 watched with the keenest interest all that took place with 
 respect to Jonathan Wild. 
 
 It was mere impulse which had prompted Blueskin to 
 eemmit this deed. 
 
 He had no thought of it the moment before, but stung 
 to the quick by the taunts to which the thief-taker had 
 given utterance, he felt a desire to be revenged. 
 
 The thought of the knife flashed across his mind, and 
 without a moment's further thought — without the least 
 reflection — he darted forward. 
 
 Jonathan Wild himself was, for once in his life, com- 
 pletely taken at unawares. 
 
 An attack of this character from Blueskin was about 
 the last thing Wild expected. 
 
 All had been done so quickly from first to last, that the 
 spectators of it could scarcely bring themselves to believe 
 in the reality of the occurrence. 
 
 Some very dismal groans, however, came from Wild's 
 lips, and when the men raised him a little, he looked very 
 ghastly and bad indeed. 
 
 He rolled his hideous eyes slowly and painfully around 
 until they rested upon Blueskin's countenance. 
 
 Then his features became convulsed with rage, as he 
 gasped faintly : 
 
 " Hold him — hold him ! Do not let him escape!'' 
 
 " Run for a doctor in a moment!" cried Mr. Noakes. 
 
 A turnkey departed upon this errand. 
 
 Those who held Blueskin cried : 
 
 " Don't be afeard, Mr. Wild ! We have got him safe." 
 
 Jonathan's face expanded into a grim sort ef smile. 
 
 " I have paid you at last," said Blueskin, in a voice that 
 rung and echoed through the stone chamber — "I have 
 paid you at last, and now I am content. You will bear 
 false witness against me, will you ? I shall like to hear 
 you." 
 
 Jonathan Wild strove to speak. 
 
 But the effort was an unsuccessful one. 
 
 The blood continued to gush from his throat, and each 
 moment he grew perceptibly weaker. 
 
 His head fell back, as the muscles in his neck refused to 
 support its weight. 
 
 His eyes glared, and he showed every symptom of ap- 
 proaching death. 
 
 Blueskin smiled, and was satisfied. 
 
 About his own fate he had grown quite careless, and 
 the thought that he had destroyed his bitter foe in the 
 very hour of his triumph and success sent a thrill of plea- 
 sure through his frame. 
 
 Some anxious moments passed. 
 
 No one seemed to know exactly what to do ; but all 
 watched with great eagerness and impatience for the 
 appearance of the doctor. 
 
 Blueskin looked on in grim silence, and contemplated 
 the thief-taker with great satisfaction. 
 
 The thought that he could see his life-blood so rapidly 
 ebbing from him overjoyed him. 
 
 Piesently, the sound of steps approaching the stone 
 chamber could be heard, and then several persons entered 
 iu great haste and confusion. 
 
 The docter who arrived was no other than our old 
 friend the apothecary, Mr. Snoxall. 
 
 He had been fetched because, as his shop was situated 
 at the corner of Skinner Street and the Old Bailey, he 
 was the nearest at hand. 
 
 He exhibited great concern when he saw the state of his 
 patient, and called for warni water and sponge. 
 
 While these were being procured, he stooped down, and 
 proceeded to remove Wild's neckcloth.
 
 BKtfESElN : A KOSIANSE. 
 
 ®J5 
 
 This Was a very voluminous affair, and was wound 
 round bis neck several times. 
 
 The removal of this had the effect of causing the blood 
 to flow much faster. 
 
 The sponge-,asd water having now arrived, the apothe- 
 cary proeeeded to wash the wound. 
 
 As soon as he had completed this operation, a very ugly- 
 looking gash was disclosed. 
 
 This he strapped -up in a very skilful manner with 
 some plaster which he took from his pocket. 
 
 Everyone of his actions was closely watched by tn<sse 
 present, and having done so far, he set about reviving 
 Jonathan by holding a smelling-bottle to his nose. 
 
 After about three inhalations, the thief-taker sneezed, 
 and re-opened his eyes. 
 
 At first he was unconscious of what had just taken 
 place. 
 
 Has brain wandered. 
 
 But ho soon came to his senses. 
 
 He caught hold of Mr. Snoxall by the skirt of bis coat, 
 and saiel : 
 
 " I have been hurt — stabbed!" 
 
 41 You have, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " Speak ! Tell me at once, and teU me the truth, on 
 your life. Is the wound a mortal one ?" 
 
 " I don't think it will prove so, Mr. Wild, if you are 
 very careful. You have truly an iron constitution." 
 
 These word-3 seemed to have a wonderful effect in re- 
 covering the thief-taker. 
 
 He uttered a loud, howling shriok, and then in a calmer 
 voice, he said : 
 
 " Not mortal — you are sure not mortal ?" 
 
 " It is an ugly affair, Mr. Wild, I can assure you. You 
 have need to be thankful that you happened to have sueh 
 a thick neckcloth en." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 "Because you unquestionably owe yeur life to that 
 simple circumstance. Had not your neckcloth been such 
 % thickness you would have found yourself with your 
 head half off !" 
 
 " Thanks — thanks ! You shall be well paid for this !" 
 
 Then, turning to Blueskin, the thief-taker continued : 
 
 " Ha, ha ! Clever as you are, I shall do for you yet — ha, 
 ha !" 
 
 Mr. Snoxall touched the thief-taker on the arm im- 
 ploringly : 
 
 "Mr. Wild — oh, Mr. Wild!" he said, "listen — pray do 
 listen ! I cannot be answerable for the injury you have 
 received without you keep yourself perfectly quiet ! The 
 worst results may follow any undue excitement !" 
 
 "Stuff — fudge !" said Jonathan. " I have got a part to 
 perform to-day, and I will not flinch ! No, villain ! I 
 will have the sentence pronounced ! I will do my share 
 towards procuring your death ! I — I " 
 
 Jonathan gasped for breath, and made two or three 
 abortive efforts to speak, until at length his head fell back 
 and he relapsed into insensibility. 
 
 14 It is, perhaps, better so !" said Mr. Snoxall. " I will 
 have him conveyed away while in this state, and the only 
 chance I shall have of doing^ any good with him will be by 
 keeping him asleep ! Will you, Mr. Noakes, allow some 
 of your men to carry him to his house ?" 
 
 The Governor of Newgate gave the requisite direc- 
 tions, and then four turnkeys took the body of Jonathan 
 Wild and carried it out of the chamber. 
 
 Blueskin fixed his eyes upon him up to the last moment. 
 
 He experienced a bitter pang when he found that Wild 
 was still alive and that there was some prospect of his 
 recovery. 
 
 When they had gone Mr. Noakes turned towards him 
 as he said: 
 
 41 So, villain, you are balked of your designs ! When 
 was a murder committed within the walls of Newgate 
 before ?" 
 
 " I wish with all my heart it had been a murder!" said 
 Blueskin, " if you call the slaying of a noxious criminal 
 Eke Jonathan Wild murder ! But I was a fool to make 
 the attempt!" 
 
 » Why did you do so, then ? You will find it will tell 
 against you at your trial !" 
 
 14 1 tried thoughtlessly ! I might have known that I 
 ghoul d Sail ! No knife will ever drink Jonathan Wild's 
 blood ! He is destined to take his last look of this world 
 at Tyburn !" 
 
 44 It would be more sensible if I was to prophecy the 
 same thing of you f" retorted Mr. Noakes. " If ever any 
 man deserved to die an ignominous death thero you de 
 and you will, too, before many days pass over your 
 head !" 
 
 44 We shall see about that !" said Blueskin. 
 
 44 Do not stop dallying any longer here !" continued the 
 Governor. "Lead him on and place him in the dock! I 
 will myself make the judge acquainted with what has just 
 taken place !" 
 
 The four turnkeys now led Blueskin up the flight of 
 stone steps we have mentioned. 
 
 They terminated in one corner of the dock where the 
 prisoners stand. 
 
 In another moment Blueskin found himself standing in 
 this place under the eharge of a police-officer. 
 
 The turnkeys fell back into the rear. 
 
 Mr. Noakes followed the little party up the steps and 
 took his seat in the little box-like place at the side of the 
 dock, which was specially constructed for his use on such 
 ocoasions. 
 
 He sat down in a moment and commenced writing at a 
 furious rate upen a sheet of paper. 
 
 Blueskin paid no attention to him, but glanced calmly 
 round the court. 
 
 The preliminary business of the day had not yet been 
 disposed of. 
 
 The Judge was seated in his chair busily occupied in 
 reading the newspaper. 
 
 The barristers were chatting with each other and 
 laughing, or else looking over the briefs and taking notes. 
 
 From these BluesMn's eyes roamed over the body of the 
 court, and he gave a passing glance at those persons 'who 
 were seated in the gallery just above his head. 
 
 The crier was administering the oath to the juryman, 
 and hra cracked and jangling voice sounded high abovo 
 the other minor sounds which filled the court. 
 
 This ceremony was at length concluded and order 
 called. 
 
 In another moment silence reigned throughout the 
 building. 
 
 The enly sound audible was the squeaking of Mr. 
 Noake's quill pen. 
 
 The Governor was writing away for his life. 
 
 Order was again called, and the business of the day 
 
 The clerk of the arsaigns, a young, florid, puppyish 
 young man, rose from his seat in an affeoted manner. 
 
 He held several parchments in his left hand, which 
 were fastened together at one corner. 
 
 Having rummaged them over, he commenced reading 
 the indictment. 
 
 But such a gabbling noise was surely never before 
 heard. 
 
 Blueskin strained his sense of hearing to fee utmost, for 
 he was eager to know all the particulars he possibly could 
 about the charge preferred against him. 
 
 Very soon, however, he gave up the attempt in des- 
 pair. 
 
 When he looked about him he found that no one was 
 paying the least attention to what was being read. 
 
 The Judge still continued the perusal of his newspaper. 
 
 The barristers continued to talk and laugh, thougvh in 
 an under-tone. 
 
 As a last hope Blueskin glanced at the jury. 
 
 But they were no exception to the rule. 
 
 To bo sure they all tried to look very serious am? 
 sagacious, bu* failed most signally in both. 
 
 One had his eyes fixed upon the reflecting minor above 
 his head, another was playing with a pen, and so on. 
 
 All were intent upon something else, and not the busi- 
 ness in hand. 
 
 Blueskin was roused from this survey by the hearing the 
 clerk of the arraigns say, in a louder and more audible 
 tone of voice : 
 
 44 Prisoner at the bar, do you plead guilty or not guilty 
 to the charge now brought before you ?" 
 
 44 Not guil-ty !" said Blueskin, in a clear, firm voice. 
 
 A slight bustle followed, and then a counsel, who had 
 been entrusted with the prosecution, rose to his feet. 
 
 He was about to speak, when Mr. Noakes, the Governor, 
 rose and said : 
 
 44 My lord, I am sure y«* wiH pardon me for intemipt- 
 iag, but I have here a paper relative t« the prisoner,
 
 GIG 
 
 BLUE&KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 ■which your lordship will please peruse before going further 
 viih the case!" 
 
 The Judge hesitated, and asked : 
 
 "What is the nature of the communication?" 
 
 " It is here in writing, my lord, and concerns some events 
 that took place in Newgate a little while ago ?" 
 
 " Concerning the prisoner?" 
 
 " Yes, your lordship !" 
 
 " Pass me the paper, then, I will read it." 
 
 An usher of the court now came forward, and taking 
 the folded paper from Mr. Noakes, carried it to the judge 
 on the bench. 
 
 His lordship took the paper, opened it, and gave quite a 
 theatrical kind of start when his eye caught the first words. 
 
 The dominant curiosity of all the persons in court was 
 keenly aroused by this letter. 
 
 Every one wondered what could be the nature of the 
 contents of it, while they watched the countenance of the 
 judge with all-absorbing interest. 
 
 His lordship read the document steadily through to the 
 end, and then, looking up, he addressed Mr. Noakes, saying: 
 
 " Are you sure there is no mistake here ? Will you 
 swear to this ?" 
 
 " Certainly, my lord !" returned the Governor, readily. 
 " A dozen persons witnessed the transaction !" 
 
 "Enough. Gentlemen of the jury, I do not wish to pre- 
 judge this case or excite any detrimental prejudice against 
 the prisoner at the bar ! Nevertheless, I must make you 
 acquainted with the subject matter of this communication 
 which I have just received from Mr. Noakes, the Gover- 
 nor !" 
 
 A dead silence followed. 
 
 The judge rustled the paper in an imposing manner, 
 held it up to the light, and then, in rather a low tone of 
 voice, he spoke as follows : — 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXVIII. 
 
 BLUESKXN TAKES HIS TRIAL AT THE BAR OF T.3E OLD 
 BAILEY. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the Jury, 
 
 " This document states that this morning the prisoner 
 at the bar was brought from his cell to the ante-chamber 
 beneath the dock, so as to be in readiness when he was 
 called. It seems he had to wait here some few minutes, 
 during which space of time Mr. Jonathan Wild, very un- 
 fortunately for himself, happened to enter. Without sus- 
 pecting any harm, it seems he incautiously approached 
 the prisoner, who, finding Mr. Wild within his reach, with 
 great suddenness started to his feet, wrenched a knife 
 from ene of the turnkeys, and with this weapon stabbed 
 Mr. Wild furiously and dangerously in the throat !" 
 
 In modern language, this intelligence produaed a great 
 sensation in the court. 
 
 As if with one consent, every face in the court was 
 turned to Blueskin's. 
 
 The judge went on : 
 
 "From the determined and desperate manner in which 
 the attack was made, Mr. Noakes expresses his belief that 
 nothing less than the death of Mr. Wild was the object of 
 the prisoner at the bar. Luckily, however, he was foiled 
 in this design. The wound received by Mr. Wild has 
 been pronounced not mortal, but still a very dangerous 
 one. In order to recover he will have to take extreme 
 care, and to receive the best of medical attention. 
 
 " The reason the prisoner failed may be attributed to two 
 causes — first, the promptitude with which he was seized 
 and overpowered by the turnkeys ; and second, the fact 
 of Mr. Wild having worn a very thick neckcloth, which 
 obstructed the progress of the knife." 
 
 The judge ceased, and looked at the jury-box. 
 
 " Such, gentlemen of the jury," he said, "is the nature 
 of the communication just received, which I hand over to 
 you in order that you may peruse it for yourselves, and 
 ascertain the truth of it." 
 
 The paper was then passed to the foreman of the jury, 
 who, having looked at it, circulated it among his com- 
 panions. 
 
 As may naturally be supposed the results of this was 
 that a very unfavourable impression with respect to Blue- 
 skin took possession of the jurymen and all the spectators 
 in the court, although there were very few who {really, 
 and truly speaking, felt any great amount of sympathy 
 for Jonathan Wild. 
 
 Mr. Noakes's communication having been duly handed 
 round by the jurymen, and read by those in possession of 
 so useful an accomplishment, was handed back to the 
 judge, and then the interrupted proceedings resumed their 
 usual course. 
 
 If anything, an extra interest was now felt in all that 
 concerned the prisoner at the bar in the remotest degree. 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution, who had resumed his 
 seat, now rose again, and having adjusted his black gown 
 to his satisfaction, and flourished his papers formidably, 
 spoke as follows : 
 
 In the intense silence of the court, every word he 
 uttered could be heard with painful distinctness. 
 
 " My Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, 
 
 " It will be proved to you in evidence that the prisoner 
 at the bar, by name Joseph Blake, but better known by the 
 nickname of Blueskin, is one of the most daring and des- 
 perate of depredators that the present or any other age has 
 had the ill-fortune to produce. 
 
 " I confess, gentlemen of the jury, that it was at first my 
 intention to have expiated at some length upon the nume- 
 rous offences of the prisoner. 
 
 " It was my intention to describe the man in his true 
 and proper colours, but I abandon that intention. 
 
 " There is no longer any need for me to take up your 
 time, gentlemen of the jiny, with a recapitulation of the 
 deeds committed during his long career. 
 
 " The little incident which has just come under your 
 notice does away in a moment with the necessity for any- 
 thing of the kind. 
 
 " The man's disposition and character are fully revealed 
 to you in all their black enormity by this single act. 
 
 " The circumstance mu3t be fresh in your memories. 
 
 "Mr. Jonathan Wild, who has rendered the Govern- 
 ment and the country at large inestimable service in the 
 apprehension of criminals of the deep-dyed desperate 
 class, to whose indefatigable exertions and dauntless con- 
 duct the presence of the prisoner at the bar is this day 
 due — I say, this public servant approaching him incau- 
 tiously was seriously wounded. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury, what would not that man do 
 who just upon the threshold of taking his trial before you 
 upon a charge affecting his life if proved against him — I 
 say, gentlemen of the jury, what would such a man do 
 who, under these circumstances, attempted to commit a 
 brutal murder. 
 
 " Such a man would be capable of anything, and I no 
 longer need dwell upon his character. 
 
 "What I have already advanced will be quite suffi- 
 cient. 
 
 " In connection with this attempted murder, gentlemen 
 of the jury, I have, however, something to say. 
 
 " At present you only possess the bare knowledge of 
 what the prisoner did ; but I can supply you with the 
 motive for his conduct, and when I have done so you will 
 no longer wonder at his having made so cowardly an 
 attack upon the life of Mr. Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " The motive is this : 
 
 "Mr. Wild was to have appeared before you to-day, 
 gentlemen of the jury, as an important witness in behalf 
 of the prosecution. 
 
 " The prisoner fearing the result of the disclosure of 
 certain facts, resolved to prevent Mr. Wild from appearing 
 before you, and there is no doubt that he has succeeded 
 so far in aceompnshing his villanous purpose. 
 
 " We have been informed, gentlemen of the jury, by Mr. 
 Noakes, the worthy Governor of Newgate, that Mr. Wild 
 is in a precarious condition, and that in order to recover 
 he will have to take the greatest care, and be compelled to 
 have the best medical advice and assistance. 
 
 " Under these circumstances, then, he cannot, of course, 
 present himself before you. I might, therefore, ask for the 
 postponement of this trial until the next session upon tha 
 ground that an important witness is unable to attend, 
 
 " But I shall make no such application, gentlemen. 
 
 " I should be 6orry to see the prisoner accomplish his 
 purpose. No ! Wo will supply the plage of Mr. Wild.
 
 SLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 617 
 
 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH DISENCUMBERS JACK SnElTARD OF II1S FETTERS. 
 
 " Luckily the evidence against the prisoner is singularly 
 lucid and simple. 
 
 " The facts will be simply placed before you and amply 
 borne out by the evidence adduced. One point upon 
 ■which Mr. Wild's testimony would have been important 
 was the positive identification of the prisoner, but I am 
 instructed to state that there are persons in court who 
 can give this important evidence. In the second place, 
 Mr. Wild would have given an account of all the ante- 
 cedent proceedings of the prisoner. This, however, must be 
 dispensed with altogether, or supplied iu the best manner 
 possible. 
 
 "My immediate duty, gentlemen of the jury, after 
 making these introductory remarks, is to give an account 
 of the circumstances of the charge preferred against the 
 prisoner. 
 
 " I shall be able to do this in a few words. 
 
 "On the 7th day of October last, Mr. Daniel Higgins, a 
 
 No. 73.— Blueskw. 
 
 highly-respectable tradesman and citizen of London, in 
 company with a friend, hired a vehicle, and went downaa 
 far aa Barnet. 
 
 " From this place they returned just about sunset the 
 same evening. Mr. Higgins was driving ; his friend sat 
 by his side. 
 
 "While approaching Finchley, and while it was yet 
 twilight, they were startled by a man who rode out sud- 
 denly into the ro^d. 
 
 " lie held a o > able-barrelled pistol in his hand, and, 
 aiming this at Ml Higgins and his friend as they sat in the 
 vehicle, sworo wilt an oath that if they did not pull up 
 that instant he would blow their brains out. 
 
 " Influenced by this horrible menace, Mr. Higgins drew 
 tho rein. The horseman then, still holding a pistol 
 threateningly at them, demanded the money and what- 
 ever valuables they had about them. 
 
 11 Doing unarmed and uuablc to resist, Mr. Higgins and 
 
 No. 78,
 
 618 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 his friend complied with the highwayman's demands, and 
 surrendered to him every article of value that they had 
 about them. 
 
 " The articles consisted of a largo silver watch belong- 
 ing to Mr. Biggins, and some money in coin. 
 
 " Having thus succeeded in his purpose, the highway- 
 man rode off, having put the travellers in grevious bodily 
 fear for their lives. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury— I have said that it was twi- 
 light when this took place. Objects not far away could 
 be clearly and plainly distinguished. 
 
 " Consequently, Mr. Hip-gins and Lis friend— both of 
 whom will presently be called before you — had an i , 
 tunity of closely observing the countenance of the man 
 who despoiled them of their property, for, while com- 
 mitting the robbery, he came quite close up to them in a 
 very daring manner. 
 
 '■"That Mr. Higgins and his friend should carefully 
 notice the personal appearance of the highwayman is 
 nothing but natural— any of you, gentlemen of the jury, 
 would have done just the same thing. 
 
 " Mr. Higgins and his friend, then, observed their an- 
 tagonist attentively, and they will be prepared to come 
 forward and swear positively to his identity. 
 
 " Moreover, when the prisoner at the bar was captured 
 and brought to Newgate, he was, in accordance with the 
 regulations of the prison, thoroughly searched by ex- 
 perienced officers. 
 
 " Among the various articles in this manner brought to 
 light, was a large silver watch, of rather peculiar work- 
 manship. 
 
 "That watch, gentlemen of the jury, will bo produced 
 by the police officer who found it on the prisoner. 
 
 " This will complete the case. 
 
 " A respectable citizen of London is robbed by a high- 
 wayman. 
 
 " A silver watch and other articles were taken Irom him. 
 
 "The watch to bo presently produced, which you 
 understand was found upon the person of the prisoner, 
 Mr. Daniel Higgins will swear was his property. 
 
 " He will also swear that the prisoner at the bar is the 
 individual who committed the robbery on the night in 
 question, and the friend who sat with him in the convey- 
 ance that had been hired will support this portion of his 
 testimony. 
 
 "Such, then, gentlemen of tho jury, is the case for the 
 prosecution, and I shall now proceed without further 
 delay to call the witnesses before you." 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution resumed his seat, and 
 having shuffled his papers about, whispered rapidly to a 
 sickly-looking young man who sat next to him. 
 
 There was now a slight lull in the proceedings, and 
 people looked about them a little, and hinted their opinion 
 of the case. 
 
 As for Blueskin, he stood like one' in a dream. 
 
 He could scarcely bring himself to believe in the reality 
 of the events which were taking place around him, and 
 yet the circumstantial coherence of the narrative which 
 came so glibly from the lips of the counsel for the prose- 
 cution staggered him. 
 
 The reader need not be told that Blueskin did not com- 
 mit the offence with which he was thus charged. 
 
 He knew nothing at all about it. 
 
 At first he had listened in doubt whether he had really 
 committed a robbery upon tho person of Mr. Daniel 
 Higgins ; but when the counsel proceeded to give the 
 particulars, he had no hesitation in coming to the conclu- 
 sion that no such deed was ever perpetrated by him. 
 
 Never in the whole course of his career had ho com- 
 mitted a robbery on tho highway, the details of which 
 corresponded in tho least degree with those which had 
 been just mentioned. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it is not to bo surprised at. 
 that Blueskin felt very much bewildered, and wad in 
 doubt as to what he should say. 
 
 His irresolution was, however, quickly put an end to, 
 and his whole attention absorbed by what was going on 
 before him. 
 
 He felt the same curious interest which people feel when 
 they see a play, the denouement of which is unknown to 
 them. 
 
 To Dlueskin, all the inrddcats were as fresh as they aro 
 to the i 
 
 Tho sickly-faced young man, to whom we referred a 
 little while back, and who sat next to the counsel for the 
 prosecution, having got his documents in readiness, now 
 rosH to his feet, and .said : 
 
 "Call Mr. Daniel Higgins!" 
 
 This done, he sat down again. 
 
 This was tho junior counsel, whose duty it was to ex- 
 amine the witnesses. 
 
 The whispering between him and his superior went on 
 again with redoubled vigour. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the crier of the court, in a high, 
 nasal tone of voice, repeated the name of the witness. 
 
 There was a bit of a stir in the recess between tho 
 Governor's seat at the side of the dock and tho jury box, 
 and then someone could be SGen pushing his way through 
 the people who obstructed his progress. 
 
 "This way, if you please, sir!" said the crier. "The 
 Court is waiting for you." 
 
 Blueskin looked along at this person, but he was not 
 able to see him with any degree of distinctness until he 
 stood up in the witness box. 
 
 This elevated position he gained in tho course of 
 another moment, and the crier having put the bar across, 
 proceeded to administer the oath. 
 
 While this little ceremony was gone through, Blueskin 
 was enabled to have a good look at the individual who 
 answered to the name of Mr. Daniel Higgins. 
 
 To tho best of his belief, the prisoner had never seen 
 him before until that moment. 
 
 He was a little man, apparently about sixty years of 
 age. 
 
 He was very thin. 
 
 His cheeks were hollow, and his hands as fleshless a3 
 those of a skeleton, while all his garments hung loosely 
 about him. 
 
 He was attired in a suit of dark grey cloth, which was 
 decidedly the worse for wear. 
 
 His rusty black hat he had placed after some hesitation 
 upon the table near him. 
 
 He was quite bald. 
 
 All the hah- he had on his head being like a ragged 
 fringe about hah an inch in depth, which extended Irom 
 one ear to the other. 
 
 But the bald part of his head had a dirty unwashed 
 look, which was very disagreeable to the beholder. 
 
 He was bent into a perpetual bow, and seemed as though 
 ho would cringo to everybody, and allow them even to 
 walk over his body, if they thought fit to do so. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXIX 
 
 BLUESKIN LISTENS WITH GREAT INTEREST TO THE DETAILS 
 OF THE CILVRGE PREFERRED AGAINST IIIM. 
 
 Such is a feeble and faint description of the personal 
 appearance of Mr. Daniel Higgins. 
 
 We have described him all but his eyes, and theso were 
 such a peculiar feature that they deserve special notice. 
 
 It was but rarely that they could be seen, owing to his 
 habit of holding down his head. 
 
 When he addressed anyone, or when he was spoken to, 
 he would glance furtively from under his shaggy brows. 
 
 All that could then be seen of his eyes were two 
 twinkling, glistening stars, which seemed to possess a 
 keenness of vision equal to those of a bawk. 
 
 While he took the oath he fixed his eyes steadfastly 
 upon the book, and in conclusion kissed it with rather a 
 "clamorous smack." 
 
 Then he gave one of his furtive, stealthy glances round 
 the court. 
 
 But in that glance he took in everything. 
 
 Blueskin was conscious for an instant that tho strange 
 being was looking at him, and then his eyeswere directed 
 elsewhere. 
 
 The whole time occupied by thft stealthy glance was 
 very brief indeed, and when he had done, he stood in an 
 attitude of great affected humbleness and deference. 
 
 Ho rubbed one hand slowly over the other in a manner 
 disagreeable in the extreme with the lidgety notion which 
 Hood describes as 
 
 " "Washing his hands with invisible soaft 
 In imperceptible water,"
 
 BLDESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 619 
 
 The junior counsel was now upon his legs again. 
 
 Slaking a pretence of referring to his papers, he turned 
 to the witness, and said • 
 
 " What is your name, if you please ?" 
 
 The witness's lips moved, but no audible sound came 
 from them. 
 
 " Speak up, if you please. We can't hear you ? What's 
 your name?" 
 
 " Daniel Higgins, sir." 
 
 "Oh, Daniel Higgins!" repeated the counsel. "And 
 where do you reside, Mr. Daniel Higgins ?" 
 
 '■ Little Britain, sir." 
 
 "Where?" said the judge, in an imposing voice, as he 
 \ stopped in the middle of writing his notes. 
 
 " In Little Britain, my lord," said tho junior counsel. 
 "It's a narrow street that turns, I believe, out of St. Mar- 
 tin's-le-Grand, and leads into Smithfield. Is that right ?" 
 added the counsel, inquiringly, as he turned to tho wit- 
 ness. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; that is right." 
 
 The judge wrote it down in his notes. 
 
 " What is the nature of the biisiness you carry on there, 
 Mr. Higgins ?" 
 
 " I keeps a coffee-shop, sir." 
 
 " Oh — indeed ! Well, do you happen to recollect the 
 7th day of October last ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " You do recollect it ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " What happened then on that day for you to remember 
 it so particularly ?" 
 
 " I went for a ride to B:.rnet in a horse and trap." 
 
 " Did you go alone ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " Who went with you 
 
 "A friend of mine." 
 
 " What is his name ?" ' 
 
 "Bob Siggers." 
 
 " Is he in attendance ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir, he's a- waiting." 
 
 " Very well, then, that will do. On tho 7th day of 
 October last you saj r you went to Barnet in a horse and 
 trap, and that a friend of yours, by name Mr. Siggers, 
 accompanied you ?" 
 
 " That's it, sir." 
 
 " Very well. Did anything particular occur to you on 
 the way to Barnet ?" 
 
 " No, sir. We started about eight o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, and got there between ten and eleven." * 
 
 " Very good. Then will you have the kindness to tell 
 his lordship and the gentlemen of the jury what happened 
 to you on your way home ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " Very well, go on. What time was it when you left 
 Barnet on your way back to London ?" 
 
 " About half-past four in the afternoon." 
 
 "About half -past four ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir. I couldn't say the time exactly, but it was 
 just about sunset." 
 
 "Very well. And Mr. Siggers returned with you, I 
 presume ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, he did." 
 
 " Very well, then. What happened to you after you 
 loft Barnet?" 
 
 " Well, sir, I was a-driving along, thinking of nothing 
 in particular, when all of a sudden I saw a man on horse- 
 back in the road. How he got there I don't know ; he 
 seemed to come all at once." 
 
 " Go on, if you please." 
 
 " Well, sir, I cau assure you it gave me a bit of a turn 
 to see him so sudden, and then I saw that he had a pistol 
 in his hand." 
 
 " Who had a pistol in his hand ?'' asked the judge. 
 
 "The man on horseback in tho road, my lord." 
 
 " How came you to see it ?" 
 
 "Why, my lord, it was only like twilight, and you could 
 see about you pretty well. Sut not only that, tho man 
 pointed the pistol at me, and came quite close up to the 
 cart, and swore with an oath that if I did not pull up he 
 would blow my brains out." 
 
 " And what did you do ?" 
 
 " I pulled up, in course, for I thought he would be as 
 good as his word." 
 
 " What then ?" ' 
 
 " When the cart had stopped, he came quite close up to 
 us, and still pointing the pistol at me and my friend, Bob 
 Siggers, told us to hand over all the money and valuables 
 wo had about us, or he would blow our brains out." 
 
 "You will swear he said he would blow your brains 
 out ?" 
 
 " Yes, my lord." 
 
 There was a pause, during which the judge occupied 
 himself in making this important memorandum. 
 
 When ho had done, he looked up as a signal to the pri- 
 soner's counsel that he was ready for him to proceed.. 
 
 " Well, Mr. Higgins, what did you do when you were 
 threatened in so dreadful a manner?" 
 
 " Why, sir, I gave him all I had." 
 
 " And your friend ?" 
 
 " He did the same, sir." 
 
 "Well, and what then ?" 
 
 "When he had taken all that we had got about us, the 
 highwayman rode off, and suffered us to proceed." 
 
 " And did you meet with any further interruption on 
 your way home ?" 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " That will do. Now, tho next thing I want you to tell 
 us is, what articles you gave to the highwayman." 
 
 " I gave him some money." 
 
 " In coin or notes ?" 
 
 " In coin." 
 
 " Then that I suppose you cannot identify ?" 
 
 " I cannot, sir." 
 
 " What else did he take from you — or rather, what elso 
 did he compel you to give him?" 
 
 The junior counsel smiled at what he thought an ad- 
 mirable stroke of wit. 
 
 " I gave him a large silver watch." 
 
 "Was that your own property?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " Had it been long in your possession?" 
 
 " Yes, a goo while, sir. It was my father's before it 
 was mine." 
 
 " Oh, indeed! then you must be perfectly familiar with 
 the watch ?" 
 
 " Quite so, sir." 
 
 "And this you say tho highwayman took, and rodo 
 away with ?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 " You are sure you would know the watch if you were 
 to see it again ?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir." 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," said the senior counsel, " I 
 have stated that a watch was found upon the person of the 
 prisoner at the time of his apprehension. I will now call 
 the officer before you who found the article I havo men- 
 tioned, and who will produce it to the Court." 
 
 The counsel sat down, and his junior said • 
 
 " Call George Grinimett !" 
 
 A police officer answering to this name now made his 
 appearance, carrying a bundle of some kind in one hand. 
 
 Mr. Daniel Higgins was desired to stand down for a 
 moment, so as to give place to this new witness, though 
 the crier signified to him that he was not yet done with. 
 
 The police officer was then sworn, and having answered 
 to his name, proceeded to untie the bundle. 
 
 Upon this Blucsldn fixed his eyes with very great atten- 
 tion. 
 
 He was very anxious and curious to know what tho 
 bundle contained. 
 
 The junior counsel interrupted the police officer in what 
 he was about by saying : 
 
 " Now, George Grimmett, attend to me, if you please." 
 
 The officer turned round in a moment, and, pulling out 
 his cheeks, looked attentively at Bluesldn. 
 
 He had beeu a witness many a time, and knew the 
 exact routine. 
 
 " Be good enough to look at the prisoner at the bar." 
 
 "I is a-looking at him, sir!" 
 
 "Did you take him into custody?" 
 
 "Well, not exactly, sir." 
 
 " What do you mean by not exactly ?" 
 
 "Mr. Wild took him prisoner, sir." 
 
 " Oh ! ah ! It is so in my notes. But you were present 
 when the prisoner was brought into the lobby of Newgate, 
 were you not ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 u That will do, then. Ee good enough to look at tha
 
 C20 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 prisoner at the bar again, and then tell me whether he is 
 the same person that Mr. Wild brought in as a pri- 
 soner." 
 
 "It is the same, sir," said the police officer, after looking 
 at Blueskin again. 
 
 41 That will do. Did Mr. Wild say who he was ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, he said his name was Blueskin." 
 
 " That is not his real name ?•" 
 
 " No, sir, that is his alye-as, sir." 
 
 " His real name is Joseph Blake, is it not ?" 
 
 " I believe it is, sir." 
 
 " Do you know the prisoner ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, sir, I have seen him hundreds of times ! He 
 was formerly in the employ of Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "Then you can swear to his identity ?" 
 
 " Certainly, sir, I can." 
 
 "That is enough. % When he was brought into the lobby, 
 ■what did you do ?" 
 
 " Searched him, sir." 
 
 "What did you find?" 
 
 " These articles, sir," said the police officer, going to his 
 bundle again. 
 
 A watch was disclosed, and several other insignificant 
 articles, and a considerable sum in money. 
 
 Blueskin recognised all as belonging to him except the 
 watch. 
 
 The officer who stood in the witness-box was the one 
 ■who had searched him. 
 
 Blueskin had even had a watch taken from him, but it 
 was not the same one that lay on tho top of the othy 
 things in the bundle. 
 
 It had been a little of Jonathan Wild's cleverness which 
 had brought about the substitution. 
 
 The junior counsel continued his examination of George 
 Grimmett. 
 
 "Did you find a watch upon the person of the pri- 
 soner ?" 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 " Have you it there ?" 
 
 '• I have, sir." 
 
 " Produce it, then." 
 
 The officer held up a watch by the chain that was 
 attached to it. 
 
 The watch was of silver, and tho size of it was certainly 
 not any larger than a turnip. 
 
 Most persons in court felt their visages lelaxinto a smile 
 when they beheld it. 
 
 " Is that the watch you found upon the person of the 
 prisoner ?" 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 " That will do, then," said the junior counsel. " You 
 swear that the prisoner at the bar is Joseph Blake, better 
 known as Blueskin, and that he is the person from whom 
 you took the watch you hold in your hand ?" 
 
 Tho officer nodded his head, and said : 
 
 " I do sir." 
 
 " Then you can stand down." 
 
 "Wait a moment!" said the judge, biting the feather-end 
 of his quill pen. " Who appears for the defence — on be- 
 half of tho prisoner?" 
 
 A silence followed. 
 
 The clerk of the arraigns then rose from his seat juii 
 underneath the judge's desk, and, turning round, said : 
 
 " I believe the prisoner is undefended, my lord." 
 
 " Indeed ! that ought to have been mentioned before ;" 
 then turning to Blueskin, he added : " Prisoner at the bar, 
 have you employed anyone to defend you P" 
 
 "I have not, my lord," replied Blueskin, " I had not the 
 means of doing so." 
 
 "Hum 1 ha!" said tho judge, looking at the barristers 
 seated round the table. " Perhaps one of my learned 
 friends would be kind enough to watch the case for the 
 prisoner?" 
 
 An irresolute pause followed, and then a you'ig man 
 rose and said : 
 
 " I will undertake that duty, my lord." 
 
 This was merely a matter of form, and tho barrister sat 
 down again. 
 
 " Prisoner at the bar," continued the judge, " have you 
 anything to say to this witness?" 
 
 "Yes, my lord." 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " The watch which he says was found upon me I most 
 eolemuly swear was never in my possession !" 
 
 " But he swears he took it from you in the lobby when 
 he searched you. He stands there on his oath." 
 
 u Then he perjures himself, my lord!" 
 
 " Have you anything further to say to him ?" 
 
 " No more than that, my lord." 
 
 The judge made a sign with iJs pen to tho officer, who 
 left the witness-box with all speed. 
 
 "Now, Mr. Higgins," said the junior counsel, "we 
 will trouble you to stand up again, if you please." 
 
 In the same trembling, cringing manner as before, Mr. 
 Higgins got up into the witness-box. 
 
 As soon as he was instated there, the junior counsel 
 continued : 
 
 " Now, Mr. Daniel Higgins, be kind enough to look at 
 that watch which you see on the table beside you." 
 
 The witness did as he was bid, and looked at the watch 
 carefully. 
 
 "Do you recognise it?" asked the counsel. 
 
 " I do, sir — it is mine." 
 
 "You swear that ?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly !" 
 
 " Very well ! Now tell me — will you swear that that is 
 the watch which you surrendered to the prisoner when ho 
 stopped you on tho high-road, on your way back from 
 Fiuchley, on the 7th day of October last ?" 
 
 " I will, sir." 
 
 "The money, you say, you could not swear to ?" 
 
 " I could not." 
 
 " Have you any doubt as to the identity of the prisoner 
 at the bar ? Look at him, and tell me whether he is tho 
 man who stopped you on the Finchley road on the after- 
 noon in question." 
 
 Blueskin felt the witness's eyes meet his for a moment, 
 and then Mr. Higgins said : 
 
 " I have no doubt whatever — that is the man. I cannot 
 be mistaken. I noticed his face particularly, and you will 
 admit that his countenance is one which, if once seen, could 
 never be forgotten." 
 
 "That will do, then, Mr. Higgins. You can stand 
 down, so far as I am concerned. I don't know whether 
 the prisoner has any questions to ask you." 
 
 " I have no questions to ask," said Blueskin, "but — — " 
 
 "Stop, stop!" said the judge. "You will presently 
 have an opportunity afforded you for making your de- 
 fence." 
 
 " But, my lord, I merely wished to say " 
 
 "But you must not! Have you any questions to 
 ask ?" 
 
 " No, my lord, but " 
 
 " That will do, then. You must reserve your defence. 
 Stand dov. n, Mr. Higgins. And now let tho next witness 
 be called." 
 
 Blueskin became silent, for he found it was no use to 
 attempt to speak. 
 
 Folding his arms across his breast, he looked frowningly 
 and angrily around him. 
 
 He could see that the chances of his having fair play 
 were very faint indeed, and that, iu spite of the absence of 
 Jonathan Wild, the trial would terminate just as tho 
 thief-taker desired it should. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXX. 
 
 BLUESKIN IS FOUND GUILTY OF A HIGHWAY ROBBEU'1, 
 WHICH HE NEVER COMMITTED, AND SENTENCE OF 
 DEATH IS PASSED UPON HIM. 
 
 " Call Mr. Robert Siggers !" said the junior counsel. 
 
 There was a stir in one comer of the court, and then in 
 a moment afterwards Mr. Siggers, tho companion of tho 
 delectable Mr. Daniel Higgins, stood in the witness- 
 box. 
 
 He was a tall, hulking fellow, whose appearance was 
 certainly the reverse of respectable, notwithstanding tho 
 very palpable fact that he had taken extraordinary pains 
 with his toilette. 
 
 His hair was cut very short at the back of the neck and 
 so round to his ears, in front of which, coming down 
 from his temples on to his cheel s, were two lank pieces of 
 h ah-, which were coiled up at tho ends into a hook-like 
 shape. 
 
 His forehead was low, his nose flat, his mouth large, and 
 the whole of his countcnanco was characterised by an 
 expression of ferocity and mean cunning.
 
 BMIESK1X : A ROMANCE. 
 
 C21 
 
 He made a kind of circular bow when he entered the 
 witness-box, and kissed the bible with great unction when 
 the oath was administered to him. 
 
 He turned round then with a smile upon his lips and 
 awaited his interrogation. 
 
 The junior counsel rose again. 
 
 "Your name is Robert Siggers, is it not ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, it are." 
 
 From this reply it would seem that Mr. Robert Siggers's 
 notions of grammar were as peculiar as his looks. 
 
 " Very well. Do you remember the 7th of October last ?" 
 
 " I do, sir !" 
 
 " What happened then ? Please to tell the Court." 
 
 "Me and my friend Higgins drove to Barnet. It 
 happened to be the fair, and we wanted to pick up a boss 
 apiece if we could do so cheap." 
 
 " Well, never mind that. You went to Barnet." 
 
 " Yes, sir, but we lost our journey. We didn't buy no 
 hoss, bekos the price were too high!" 
 
 " Oh, so you returned with a good bit of money ibout 
 you?" 
 
 " We did, sir." 
 
 "Well, what happened on your way home ?" 
 
 " We were stopped by a man on boss-back, who held a 
 double-barrelled pistol in his hand, which he pointed at us, 
 and threatened to blow our brains out without we handed 
 him over all the money and valuable property we had 
 about us." 
 
 " And you complied with the demand ?" 
 
 "Yes, we gave him all we had, which was a goodish deal, 
 bekos when we set out we meant to buy a hoss apiece, 
 which we didn't do, bekos, as I said before, they was too 
 dear." 
 
 " Very well, Mr. Siggers. You sat in the cart or trap, 
 or whatever the conveyance was by the side of your 
 friend Mr. Higgins, who was driving ?" 
 
 " That is quite correct, sir." 
 
 " Did you see the man's face when he rode up to the 
 trap and took your money ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, almost as plain as I can see yours now." 
 
 " How did that happen ?" 
 
 " Why the sun had not set very long before, and it was 
 only just duskish like." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! Well, now, Mr. Siggers, be good enough 
 to turn round and look at the prisoner at the bar, then 
 tell the Court whether that is or is not the man who com- 
 mitted the robbery you have described." 
 
 Mr. Siggers pretended to look very earnestly at Blue- 
 skin for a momont or two, and then he said, slowly and 
 with emphasis : 
 
 " That is the man ! I could tell his face from a 
 thousand !" 
 
 This was a very conclusive and emphatic rnocie of 
 swearing to anyone's identity, and the jury looked at each 
 other, as much as to say, " That's settled." 
 
 The judge, addressing Blueskin, asked him whether he 
 wished to put any questions to this witness. 
 
 Blueskin replied in the negative. 
 
 He could see that it was quite folly to say anything to 
 these people who had been so thoroughly and efficiently 
 drilled by Jonathan Wild. So Mr. Robert Siggers was 
 allowed to leave tho witness-box in peace, for which ho 
 was very thankful, if one may judge by the alacrity with 
 which he stepped down. 
 
 " Call Mr. Noakes !" said the junior counsel. 
 
 The Governor of Newgate left his seat at his desk and 
 took his stand in tho witness-box. 
 
 When the preliminaries had been gone through, tho 
 counsel said : 
 
 " Your name is Mr. Noakes, I believe ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 "And the position you occupy is Governor of the prison 
 cf Newgate ?" 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 " Do you knoT7 the prisoner at tka bar ?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " What is his name ?" 
 
 " He is generally called Blueskin, but I believe his real 
 name is Joseph Blake." 
 
 " That is all, Mr. Noakcs, thank you." 
 
 " Do you wish to say anything to this witness ?" asked 
 the judge. 
 
 " He is a bitter foe of mine !" said Blueskin, "and would 
 do anything — " 
 
 " There— there ! That will do! Stand dow.i, Mr. 
 Noakes !" 
 
 The Governor left the witness-box. 
 
 " That is the case for the prosecution, my lord," said 
 the junior counsel, as he sat down. 
 
 The barrister who had taken upon himself the task of 
 defending Blueskin, at a sign from the latter came 
 towards him. 
 
 Blueskin whispered something rapidly into his ear, but 
 the barrister shook his head, as he replied : 
 
 " I am afraid it is no good — however, I will try." 
 
 With these words the counsel returned to his place, and, 
 standing up, said : 
 
 "My Lord and gentlemen of tho Jury, — 
 
 "As you must be well aware, I am not in a position to 
 defend this man properly, although at the wish of the 
 learned judge I appear here on his behalf. 
 
 " I have no brief — I have no witnesses to call, and the 
 only instructions I have received are those which have 
 been given me in a whisper a moment or two ago. 
 
 " I have, then, gentlemen of tho jury, simply to state 
 that the prisoner entirely denies the charge which has 
 been brought against him. 
 
 "He maintains that he is perfectly innocent of it. 
 
 "On the night in question he was nowhere near 
 Finchley or Barnet, and he also affirms that never until this 
 morning had he beheld either Mr. Higgins or Mr. Siggers, 
 and that tho details of the case were as new to him as to 
 any person in the court. 
 
 " He admits that when searched at Newgate a watch was 
 found upon him, but he declares that the watch to which 
 Mr. Higgins has sworn is not the same one, but another 
 which has been substituted for it. 
 
 " He adds, moreover, that Jonathan Wild swore to be 
 revenged upon him, and has adopted this means of keeping 
 his oath. 
 
 " Mr. Noakes, too, he states, has been suborned to give 
 evidence against him, and that the whole of the affair has 
 been concocted by Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury, this is the statement made to 
 me by the prisoner, and this is the only defence I have 
 to offer in his behalf ; and if what I have said has the 
 effect of casting a doubt upon any of the evidence brought 
 before you, it is your duty to give the prisoner the utmost 
 benefit of that doubt." 
 
 The counsel for the defence sat down. 
 
 His address, however, did not seem to produce any 
 great effect either upon judge or jury. 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution now rose, and it was 
 clear he intended to exercise his right of reply. 
 
 " My Lord and Gentlemen of the Jury, — 
 
 " I have a few more remarks to make with reference l& 
 this case, but they will not occupy me a moment. 
 
 " I should be loth to detain you even for so short a 
 time, only duty compels me to speak. 
 
 "You have heard, then, the words just uttered by my 
 learned friend who undertook to defend the prisoner 
 unprepared. 
 
 " The statements made by him came from the prisoner 
 himself, and therefore I should like to call your attention 
 to them. 
 
 "You cannot have forgotten, gentlemen of the jury, tho 
 communication which the learned judge handed to you 
 for your perusal. 
 
 " That communication states that the prisoner made a 
 most desperate and cowardly attack upon that valuable 
 public servant, Mr. Jonathan Wild. 
 
 " Now, I would like you to compare that action with the 
 assertion that Jonathan Wild fabricated this charge against 
 the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 " I shal) leave you to (haw your own conclusions from it. 
 
 " In my opinion, a clearer and more distinct case was 
 never placed before a jury for decision." 
 
 The counsel sat down, and there was a general buzz in 
 the coart, during which tho jurymen whispered nonsense 
 to each other, and the judge turned over his notes. 
 
 At length he ceased, and looked up. 
 
 The crier, who had had his eye upon him all the while, 
 immediately cried out : " Silence !" 
 
 All became still, as if by magic ; and then tho judge, in a
 
 622 
 
 BLUEFTCIN ; A ROMANCE. 
 
 mumbling voice, which Blucskin could scarcely under- 
 etand, commenced his address to the jury : 
 
 «' Gentlemen of the Jury, — 
 
 " The prisoner at the bar is charged with committiug a 
 highway robbery on the road between Barnet and Finch- 
 ley, shortly after sunset on the evening of the 7th day of 
 October last past. 
 
 " Mr. Higgins and Mr. Siggers, two citizens and trades- 
 men in London, who have given their evidence before 
 you, have sworn to the particulars under which the rob- 
 bery was committed. What one said exactly agreed with 
 what was uttered by the other. 
 
 " Both, without any hesitation, identified the prisoner at 
 the bar. 
 
 " They have sworn that he was the man who committed 
 the robbery, as they had a good opportunity of looking in 
 his face, and the face happens to be one which once seen 
 could never be forgotten or mistaken. 
 
 " Then, a police officer has been brought before you who 
 states on his oath that he searched the prisoner as soon as 
 he was brought into the lobby. 
 
 " Upon him he found money to a considerable amount 
 and various miscellaneous articles, among which was a 
 very large old-fashioned watch, almost as unmistakeable as 
 the countenance of the prisoner at the bar. 
 
 " This watch is shown to Mr. Higgins, who swears it is 
 the one taken from him by the highwayman upon the 
 Finchley road. 
 
 " He has no doubt upon the matter, the watch having 
 been in his possession for a long time, and having been 
 his father's before him. 
 
 " The chain of evidence is then complete. 
 
 " Every link is perfect ; and all that is done towards 
 rebutting any portion of it is the statement made by the 
 prisoner through our learned friend, which statement, 
 gentlemen of the jury, I need scarcely say is not, in my 
 opinion, worth even a momentary consideration. 
 
 " It would never do to remand a prisoner or declare 
 him not guilty upon such grounds as these, especially 
 when the evidence is so very clear and complete as it is in 
 this instance. 
 
 "Indeed, I may say that it has rarely fallen to my lot to 
 have a trial brought before me in which the evidence is so 
 clear and conclusive. 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury, it is your duty to consider 
 over the evidence given, and then give a verdict in 
 accordance with that and your own consciences." 
 
 The judge ceased. 
 
 The jurymen just whispered to each other, and then sat 
 down again. 
 
 They were not long in coming to a conclusion. 
 
 The usher of the court then addressed them, and 
 said: 
 
 "Gentlemen of the jury, do you find the prisoner at the 
 bar guilty or not guilty ?" 
 
 "Guilty," responded the foreman of the jury, in a Pvm 
 voice. 
 
 The verdict took no one by surprise. 
 
 All expected what it would be. 
 
 Indeed, under the circumstances it was scarcely possible 
 for them to pronounce a verdict of a different character to 
 the one they gave. 
 
 There was a brief silence, and then the clerk of the 
 arraigns said : 
 
 "Prisoner at the bar, what have you to say why sen- 
 tence should not be passed upon you?" 
 
 " I can only repeat what I said befoi'e," replied Blue- 
 skin, in a clear and steady voice — " I am innocent of the 
 crime laid to my charge ; and I state again that Jonathan 
 Wild has fabricated all on purpose to have his revenge 
 upon me." 
 
 While Blucskin was speaking these words, tho judge 
 was fumbling under his desk for the black cap. 
 
 This he put on, and then said : 
 
 " Prisoner at the bar, you have had a fair and impartial 
 trial for a very heinous offence, for which the law of the 
 land awards the penalty of death. With tho justice of tho 
 verdict given by the jury I heartily and cordially agree, 
 and I now proceed to pass sentence upon you." 
 
 The judge paused, as though to conceal his emotion. 
 
 " The sentence of the Court upon you is, that you bo 
 taken hence to tho place from which you came, and 
 
 afterwards to the place of common execution, and that you 
 be there hanged by the neck until you are dead ; and may 
 the Lord havo mercy upon your soul !" 
 
 Blucskin felt someone touch him on tho shoulder. 
 
 He turned round, and beheld his tomicntoi, Mr. 
 Noakes. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXI. 
 
 RLUESKIN PARTIALLY REVENGES HIMSELF UPON MR. NOAKES 
 AND THE JUDGE. 
 
 "He! he!" laughed the Governor, with a malignant 
 chuckle — " who was right, eh ? I told you how it would 
 be, old fellow — and here you are. I'll look after you, 
 never fear, and then I and tho country at largo will have 
 the pleasure of seeing you, and your infamous associate, 
 Jack Sheppard, dangling at the end of a rope from 
 Tyburn tree !" 
 
 These words were uttered in a tone of voice quite loud 
 enough for Blucskin to hear, but yet not loud enough t o 
 be audible to those who were in the court, though all 
 could see that the Governor was saying something to the 
 prisoner. 
 
 Very little attention was paid to them, however. 
 
 The interest of the trial was over. 
 
 But the attention of every person present was destined 
 to be aroused to the utmost extent. 
 
 Blueskin heard these words ; and, coming upon his ear 
 at the moment they did, they exasperated him greatly. 
 
 He had already had a partial revenge upon Jonathan 
 Wild, and now he thought was an opportunity to pay off 
 the Governor for old scores. 
 
 He had long promised himself some kind of retaliation 
 for all that he had suffered at his hands, and these words 
 which the Governor spoke had the same effect itpon Blue- 
 skin's wrath as a drop of water has when added to a cup 
 already full to overflowing. 
 
 He felt that he could endure no more. 
 
 His eyes flashed when the last words left Mr. Noakes's 
 lips, and before that worthy had the least idea that tho 
 prisoner contemplated such an act, Blueskin doubled up his 
 fists — for the reader will remember he stood in the dock 
 unfettered — and gave the Governor two such cracks, one 
 with his left hand on the mouth, and the other with his 
 right just betwixt wind and water, that down he went 
 like a shot. 
 
 A terrible scene of confusion now ensued. 
 
 Those people who saw that a contest of some kind or 
 other was taking place in the dock raised an alarm that 
 tho prisoner was attempting to make his escape. 
 
 The panic thus caused very quickly subsided, however, 
 for the first thing the turnkeys did was to seize Blueskin 
 and hold him tightly. 
 
 It was perceived that he was a prisoner; and having 
 accomplished his purpose, Blueskin stood perfectly still, 
 without making the least resistance. 
 
 Some more officials now made their appearance and 
 hastened to the assistance of Mr. Noakes. 
 
 With some trouble they lifted him up, and then found 
 that he was in a very damaged condition indeed. 
 
 His mouth had swelled up in an incredible manner, and 
 an ensanguined stream gushed from his nostrils. 
 
 He gasped for breath, for the second blow had materially 
 disarranged his breathing apparatus, so that ho looked 
 like some huge, overgrown fish suddenly transported from 
 its native element and left on land. 
 
 The judge fixed his massive gold spectacles imposingly 
 upon his nose, and looked severely towards tho prisoner. 
 
 As soon as something like order and quiet were restored, 
 he addressed him : 
 
 "Prisoner at the bar," he said, "what can be the 
 meaning of this unseemly conduct I know not, and 1 
 regret that I have no power to punish you further. But 
 the extremo penalty of the law has been awarded you, and 
 this, perhaps, is the reason that you behave thus, know- 
 ing full well that your miserable life is forfeited, and that 
 your outraged country can do no more than deprive you 
 "of it," 
 
 It would certainly seem as though some feeling of utter 
 desperation had taken possession of Blueskin. 
 
 It was either that, or else his encounter with Mr. Noakes 
 had had the effect of putting his blood up. 
 
 Whichever of these it was, matters net.
 
 EM : A ROSUyCT. 
 
 a% 
 
 ¥z vOOiMrbadfhe \iiz-. v.tered these w-..- 
 skLo, by a sodden effort of strength, freed his hand from 
 the grasp of the tnmkey who held it, and seized the 
 :.'.: . ' v.- ..■ :.:.:■:..- ■■..'. z :.:..'■. - "....- '-- - v.." : -. 
 desk close by. 
 
 Then, before either of the turnkeys could seize his arm 
 again, or prevent him from executing his intention, Blue- 
 skin hurled the inkstand -with all the force he was capable 
 o: --....-=•...; x art 
 
 He aimed it at the judge. 
 
 That functionary saw the missile coming, and docked 
 Ins head to avoid it 
 
 That was an unfortunate movement 
 
 skin's aim was not very correct, but it so happened 
 the judge, in his anxiety to escape the blow from the ink- 
 stand, put his head just in the way of it 
 
 "Thi that, 1 said Bfoeskm, "and serve von right I 
 You are another of my foes, and I regret I cannot make 
 yoa fee! my resentment" 
 
 The judge rubbed his head with a rueful air. 
 
 The edge of the pewter inkstand was sharp, and as it 
 h&ppened to catch him edgewise, it inflicted a gash just 
 
 - 
 fully. 
 
 It mingled with the ink, which was splashed over his 
 face, and gave him a very ludicrous aspect 
 
 The counsel for the prosecution, fearing that he should 
 next come in for a share of the prisoner's vengeance, made 
 a ;. .- .:. :-..- :u . v. .'.--.: : r. zz\ .: : :..■;-■.:. 
 
 He was immediately followed by his junior, for be, too, 
 was alarmed, and a prodigious scuffle ensued between 
 tbem. 
 
 Bat Blueskin was once more quiet and peaceable, and 
 stood with a smile of satisfaction on his lips, for he felt 
 that to : me extent he irat revenge L 
 
 The blow which the judge had sustained was a severe 
 one, and yet it was not severe enough to deprive him of 
 c 
 
 Several of the officials and persons connected with the 
 court hastened to his assistance, but he waved them aside, 
 and, with a face which looked just the colour of pickled 
 cabbage, he cried: 
 
 u To the cells with him — to the cells ! Why do you 
 i ? Do you wUh to afford him the opp ortu nity of 
 '1 .:-_' -•.;.. :....-: :_:- ..:.': Z \z . : '.'■_. I =.. 7 . 
 
 "Yes, to the cells! Number eighteen!" cried Mr. 
 Koakes, spasmodically. " Off with him ! I shall be well 
 enough to follow directly. Look alive, now!" 
 
 The turnkeys began to haul Blueskin off very roughly, 
 but he said: 
 
 "Now, my friends, there's no need to be violent! I 
 have no grudge against you yet, and don't want to have. 
 If you will let me alone, I will accompany you as quietly 
 ao yon like." 
 
 '1..: ::.-..'.■: -■-. .-■'. -.1: ~; . I; . ;: .-.-. : '_ . ; 1 -.0 '—-. — ;.-_:. 
 ■ :. . "... ; ~ _..-.... -: /.. .,.:. 
 
 Ere he descended the stsars in the corner of the dock, he 
 gave one farewell glance round the court 
 
 He would have been content if he could have inflicted 
 some punishment upon Mr. Higgins, and bis satellite, Bob 
 £:.-.• 3 :. bat :-:- '-... I both vamabsa. 
 
 j... -.:..■::-. ... :...:.: L. ...,..:.-. : .„■."_. — ,v : , -.;.. : ■_;_• 
 demned cells. 
 
 Mr. Koakes specified No. 18, because that happened to 
 be the darkest, dampest, and most disagreeable of the 
 
 V.\. : ; ;■;.-;.=. 
 
 It was some satisfaction to the Governor to have him 
 gla s I these. 
 
 ;.. .-■ ' : ; •'.--. v.- ... i. _•'...-. ; ; 
 
 Mr. >" oakes took upon himself the responsibility of 
 having him heavily ironed, and so, loaded with fetters, 
 the prisoner was left to ponder upon his situation. 
 
 There we will leave him. 
 
 While Blueskin wa3 thus made an inmate of one of the 
 condemned cells, Jack Sheppard was busily engaged in' 
 i_-- ■:.:-_■ ',-;. ':. 
 
 The reader now wQl not be so much at a loss to account 
 for Jack having been able to pursue his occupation un- 
 nolsste ::-. 
 
 The cessation of Jonathan Wild's periodical visits U 
 the prison has been accounted for. 
 
 1 -; '..-..: ... i.v. .:_:.: '.. . ■ :: - .1 •._-• -.- • 
 
 night when Jack made his escap3 Jonathan nAver came 
 
 D 
 
 T . . : — • -r:. ■■ J: '•: BheffOSi MM fBT* bard 
 
 at work, his mortal foe was lying in a very preci. 
 c ' D i. ".; D - i~ - 1 '-. z. 
 
 The wound in the throat which Blueskin inflicted 
 turned out to be of a more serious and dangerous cha- 
 racter than the apothecary had imagined, and the terrible 
 ou t break of rage to which the thief-taker had given way 
 ".-■. : :. .-. :.„ '.: :: :..." /".:. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall sat by the side of the bed upon which Jona- 
 than lay. 
 
 He was watching him. 
 
 He was compelled to do this, 00 critical was the cen- 
 "'•:-- at tat patient, 
 
 Could Jack have had a peep into this chamber, it would 
 have spare 1 bini some BneaaPBeaa 
 
 He would not have been haunted with apprehensions 
 ::' •':.-. •:..'.-:': .'.: : :. '..-. -~z ; . 
 
 Mr. Koakes, with pain and diffirolty, did discharge his 
 duty of visiting Jack, but it was late when he did so, for 
 :.': v.- .: :. '. .... :.-.-. : : .:~::.zz- :...z.. : : '.: i -''.:.-:'.■ ~ :\ : .- 
 form such a duty. 
 
 He satisfied himself with a glance that all was well, and 
 z'zzz. : .-..:. ~. -r;-.L.u: '...,:.:._■ i'.-z.r. 
 
 And so Jack had the night all to himself, for the turn- 
 keys, who were all tired, took the utmost advantage of the 
 Governor's mishap. 
 
 '1 . .:. .: : .z "—._;.;. ,"_ -."; : . 7. ". ■.'.'. ':■■■. :'.-..'- :.. :Le 
 
 remembrance of the reader. 
 
 We described the scene which took place in the thief- 
 taker's house while he looked down upon the roof of it 
 
 Wild, junior, had chosen tins op p ortunity for making 
 his insidious p ropo s als to Edgworth Bess, because he 
 knew that he had no interruption to fear from the 
 
 ■ :- V • : - )v ... 
 
 The act will show how much he cared for his lathes'* 
 condition. 
 
 " .. : Li 1 •:..'.:---. ■-.'. '—I :-■:. ~ .". 
 
 Such a favourable conjunction of circumstances was far 
 n.r; r.-.: i: :■.- 1 : -~ . -'.y. - :' r. 
 
 And so he was able to creep into the shed in the fields 
 t - . .-.::-. r. ..".':.:- •-'.:':. . : ....---' ..'.:■;:;;:.. •.:;..- 
 I ■;- :. 
 
 In fact his escape was not discovered until the turnkey 
 — ;:.: •_:• : .•; r: : -i .:. • -: :..'..-..::..•. 
 
 The consternation of the official is a thing to be 
 imagined, -.: ieeaabei. 
 
 In the same careless manner as ever, he undid the 
 ::. • :i:;: : .z. '.'..'. '-.:: .: '-.-:'- ----- 
 
 Then he tried to posh the door open. 
 
 :. ;- :-. .-. -.'.■- iz. -:' ::."..:. 
 
 Z. ■—■-.— ■- '— : —i '■■'. '■--- '-: '-.z-.'.-.z,-. '.--:'£. Z.-.1 :■=.-'.■:'. z. 
 ■zz.~.:r-:z-.- .:. 
 
 1 -..-.:.-„• •. ".I-.-.!; :_-.-" v..--. 1 r.i. L'.— -iT'.r. Z-i '-■-■:: z": 
 - ; • mdtitat fitter saddenly. 
 
 The turnkey lost his equilibrium, and put his foot inside 
 the • ell to recover it 
 
 Bat when he did so he did not notice the rather deep 
 .--. .t;..-7.l ~_: .':. 7 .>:.:.: :..-.>. -v_ ; i '■_■: :s.; : :..y.'.iv. 
 work lis way out by getting under the door. 
 
 'I:.- .z\\ - .z :--■- - : L: =-.-:".■ - .-.. I: ~1:_ 11::: 
 :.-.■'-:■ -._" :- - .-. :-.-. ... ;.. ; .: - - . .-' '---.-■'- v:. .'.:. 
 
 In fart he sustained some very serious braises, and was 
 a moment or two before he could breathe. 
 
 The first use he made of his voice was to utter some 
 very diabolical curses, which be levelled at everything 
 and everybody. 
 
 Then he recovered himself sufficiently to lift up his 
 head and look about the cell 
 
 What he saw, for the second time deprived him of 
 
 His eyes glared fearfully as he took in the whole z 
 
 -. i. z- ■■.-=-. -■:,. :.z .: : . .. ::. .: ■'. " ; ._. "■'-..'- 
 
 ^echoed and re-echoed through the vaulted passages .: :- 
 
 ""•■'■''';-'-••-: :-.-■ -..-:■;- •:-:': ="-■-.• ' - -^ : : ' 
 
 Oh, what shall I do? Oh, there will be the devil to pay, 
 and no pitch hot'.'' 
 
 V-.-.'.-rir.-- • ..-:.- "■ ::' : •."-'- "■ - -'■'- -'■ 7 '■ "------• '- '—'- 
 
 y.'.Z- : .-- ZL~: Z.- .r. 
 
 Just as he regained his feet several of his companions, 
 
 -:_.:.:_ i ".7- ..'-.. - - -.:-■--: '- '•-- 
 
 kj k ; : v^^ferated the turnkey. 
 
 - . -- ^-*_
 
 624 
 
 BLUESKIN : A HOMANCB. 
 
 " He has escaped ! Run some one and tell the Governor.' 
 " Run yourself !" 
 " What for ?" 
 
 "I would rather you told him than me. Why, he will 
 discharge us everyone." 
 " It can't be helped !" 
 
 " Ring the falarm-bell, then, and someone fallow me ; 
 perhaps, after all, he has not got out of the prison. Ton to 
 one, now, if we do not find him hiding somewhere." 
 
 There was some hope in this, and while one of the turn- 
 keys ran off to ring the alarm-bell, and otherwise spread 
 the alarm, the remainder, with greater calmness than they 
 had yet been master of, set to work to examine the cell, 
 and ascertain by what means the prisoner had left it. 
 
 The hole in the floor near the threshold puzzled them 
 a great deal, for they could not think why it had been 
 made until they saw the iron plate which had stopped the 
 prisoner's further progress, and then they immediately 
 understood that his intention had been to burrow under- 
 neath it, and then make his way through the stones in the 
 passage. 
 
 This point settled, they turned to the chimney, and 
 then they saw the quantity of masonry that had been 
 dislodged' and piled up on the floor. 
 It was really most astonishing. 
 
 The reader will remember that when Jack had suc- 
 ceeded in getting one stone out of the chimney, he held it 
 between both hands, and used it as a kind of hammer, and 
 in this way he soon demolished the wall. 
 
 As soon as they had overcome their surprise at the 
 aspect which the cell presented, the turnkeys made a rush 
 to the chimney, and commenced scrambling up it. 
 
 They were only a minute or so gaining the Red Room. 
 As soon as they reached this, they saw, to their surprise 
 and dismay, that the door, which had remained so long 
 closed, was gaping wide open. 
 
 They rushed out into the corridor at once, and so on 
 until they came to the door which led into the chapel. 
 Here they paused, and for a moment were at fault. 
 At first they did not see the place where the spike had 
 been broken off, and when they did perceive it, they could 
 not believe that, slim and agile as Jack was, he had the 
 power of squeezing himself through so narrow an aperture. 
 It was while they stood here that they were startled by 
 hearing a terrific cry in the rear, which sounded like the 
 yell of some wikl beast. 
 
 The sound was followed by the rushing of footsteps. 
 Involuntarily they turned round and caught sight of 
 Mr. Noakes. 
 
 He was hurrying towards them, gesticulating violently, 
 like a madman. 
 
 " Ten thousand devils !" he cried — " thunder and light- 
 ning ! what is the meaning of this ?" 
 
 "Jack Sheppard has escaped!" cried the turnkeys in 
 ;horus. 
 
 "Damnation! Curse you all, you lie! I saw him safe 
 n the cell last night myself !" 
 
 "He has escaped ! He has made a hole in the chimney, 
 and so got into the Red Room ; the door of this he has 
 forced open, and got here. Look ! he has broken off one 
 of the spikes and got into the chapel, and, as we all very 
 well know, that is the high-road to the leads. 
 
 Mr. Noakes uttered another cry, more terrible than the 
 first. 
 
 He seized his hair with both hands, and violently 
 plucked it out by the roots. 
 
 Then he executed a perfect dance uf rage and pain. 
 "After him !" ho cried at length, when his senses came 
 3ack to him a little — " after him ! Open the door, idiots ! 
 He can't have got away ! If he has, I shall lose my place 
 for certain, and Jonathan Wild will murder me ! Open 
 the door, idiots, I say !" 
 " I'm a-hopeniDg it, sir !" 
 
 The door creaked back on its hinges, and then the Go 
 vernor made a frantic dash into the chapel, with 01 the 
 turnkeys at his heels. 
 
 The chapel was now thoroughly illuminated, and they 
 all caught sight in a moment of the door which oponed 
 into the passage communicating with the leads. 
 
 But recollecting that this passage was defended by an- 
 other strong door — the strongest, perhaps, in the whole 
 prison — the Governor took heart, for he was not without 
 the hope that after all they would find the prisoner baffled 
 in his attempt to escape. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXIL 
 
 JONATHAN WILD IS MADE AWARE OF JACK SHEPPARD's 
 ESCAPE FROM NEWGATE IN RATHER A PECULIAR BIAX- 
 NEE. 
 
 But that hope was, as he soon found, a fallacious one, 
 and a fresh outbreak of impotent rage was the result. 
 
 That door, upon the strength of which he so muc 1 -. re- i 
 lied, had been wrenched open like the rest, with a power 
 that seemed superhuman. 
 
 The Governor now abandoned himself to despair. 
 
 Still he kept on until the roof of the prison was gained. 
 
 So great was the despair of the Governor — so much did 
 he dread the result of this escape — that he felt as though 
 he could thank the man who pitched him over the parapet 
 into the street below. 
 
 He had not the courage to take the fatal leap himself. 
 
 The turnkeys hastily dispersed themselves about tho 
 roof, and in a very little time discovered the blanket by 
 the aid of which Jack had descended on to the roof of tho 
 house that adjoined the prison. 
 
 The loud cry they littered upon seeing this had the 
 effect of congregating all tho others about the spot. 
 
 There was no longer any doubt about the route which 
 Jack had taken. 
 
 Nor was there any room for the conjecture that ho 
 might be even now lurking about the prison. 
 
 The tattered blanket swinging lazily backwards and 
 forwards in the morning air made all clear. 
 
 But though it was so clear that Jack had gone that way, 
 the turnkeys did not feel at all inclined to risk their necks 
 by attempting to follow him. 
 
 They shook their heads as they admitted it was running 
 too great a risk. 
 
 How long thoy would have remained looking down 
 upon the roof of the house is very hard to say. 
 
 The Governor was the first to recover himself. 
 
 "Follow — follow !" he eried. "After him — quick! He 
 cannot possibly have gone far! Follow — follow, and you 
 will overtake him ! If he gets off, we shall all be dis- 
 charged !" 
 
 " Sorry for that, sir !" replied the turnkeys; "but per- 
 haps you would like to try the blanket. It don't look to 
 us to be over secure." 
 
 "Fools — dolts — idiots!" screamed Mr. Noakes; "you 
 are all in league with him, and are wasting time pur- 
 posely in order to allow him a better opportunity to escape 
 than he has at present ! Follow me, all of you ! Hesi- 
 tate at your peril, and I will report you all !" 
 
 With these words, Mr. Noakes made his way, not to tho 
 blanket, but to the door in the leads. He jumped down 
 on to the lower leads, though in a manner that seemed to 
 show he was utterly regardless of personal consequences. 
 
 He did not lose his footing, however, but darted through 
 the little door, ran along the passage, crossed the chapel, 
 and ma4e his way by the nearest possible route to one of 
 the doors opening into the Old Bailey. 
 
 The turnkeys followed at his heels in a disorderly 
 throng. 
 
 They were anxious to recapture Jack Sheppard, if such 
 a thing was possible, for the consequences to them would 
 not be veiy pleasant if he should happen to get off en- 
 tirely. 
 
 The alarm was now very general. 
 
 By this time there was not a person in the prison who 
 was unacquainted with the startling fact that Jack Shep- 
 pard had escaped. 
 
 The dismal tolling of tho alarm-bell of Newgate, which 
 proclaimed tho escape of a prisoner, still continued. 
 
 The clanging sound extended far and wide over the 
 City, for as yet the hour was too early a one for many per- 
 sons to be astir. 
 
 The sound penetrated into all the rooms of the thief- 
 taker's residence. 
 
 It reached the one in which Mr. Snoxall still sat watch- 
 ing his dangerous patient. 
 
 The worthy apothocary gave a great start when the 
 souud came upon his ears, for he had lived too long in the 
 vicinity of the prison not to know what the tolling of that 
 bell meant. 
 
 It darted into his mind in a moment that Jack Sheppard 
 had been successful in effecting a third escape. 
 
 Mr. Snoxal'. glanced apprehensively towards his pa<- 
 tient. 
 
 \ ^-
 
 BLT7ESKIN! A ROMANCE, 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD CUTS DOWN T3BCRN TREE TO PREVENT TOE EXECUTION OP BLTJESKIN. 
 
 Jonathan Wild languidly opened his eyes. 
 _ The blind was drawn, so that the full glare of daylight 
 did not come into the room, but nevertheless the thief- 
 taker's eyes were too weak to bear it, and he closed them 
 again. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall hoped he would go off to sleep again, and 
 doubtless his wish would have been gratified, had not the 
 bell continued to toll with ever-increasing loudness. 
 
 Wild opened his eyes again, and this time did not close 
 them. 
 
 He made several contortions with his mouth, and at 
 length, with a great effort, gasped out : 
 
 " Wh— wh — what is that ?" 
 
 "What, Mr. Wild?" 
 
 " Curse you, you know what !" 
 
 The apothecary shook his head. 
 
 Jonathan grinned impotently and savagely. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Wild," said Mr. Snoxall, "you are very bad 
 indeed !" 
 
 "Bah!— stuff!" 
 
 No. 79. — Blueskik. 
 
 " I am sorry to say it is the truth, Mr. Wild — Blueskin 
 almost did for you." 
 
 " Ten thousand curses !" 
 
 " If the knife had been a little keener, or if your nock 
 had not been so well protected, he would have had your 
 head off !" 
 
 An inarticulate howl was the response to this. 
 
 " Keep quiet, Mr. Wild — prny keep quiet ! If you ex- 
 cite yourself, I will not be answerable for your life. It 
 hangs upon a thread, Mr. Wild — it does indeed !" 
 
 Jonathan was silent. 
 
 " You must not move, Mr. Wild — you must not speak, 
 hardl}-, for a day or two. I will try my best to save you." 
 
 "Tell me this — tell me this — and then I will be quiet 1" 
 
 " Tell you what, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 "Is the trial over ?" 
 
 " Blueskin's ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It is, Mr. Wild." 
 
 " And the verdict ?" 
 
 Ne, 79,
 
 62a 
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMAN'CE. 
 
 "Guilty." 
 
 Jonathan Wild burst out into a loud fit of unnatural 
 laughter. 
 
 "Is this yoiu 1 premise, Mr. Wild ?" 
 
 "I had forgotten. But I am all right now. What 
 glorious news !" 
 
 Jonathan closed his eyes again. 
 
 He was about to gloat over the idea that Blueskin was 
 at that moment the inmate of one of the condemned cells, 
 but his reflections were destined to be interrupted. 
 
 The horrible clangour of the bell, which had ceased for 
 a moment, now began again. 
 
 Jonathan Wild opened his eyes once more. 
 
 " What is that?" he asked. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall trembled. 
 
 He was in hopes that Jonathan would he down and be 
 content. 
 
 When he was asked this last question, he did not, for a 
 moment, know how to reply. 
 
 The thief-taker repeated his interrogation. 
 
 " You asked me that before," said Mr. Snoxall. 
 
 " I know I did. Why don't you answer me ?" 
 
 " Did you not see me shake my head ?" 
 
 "Oh, d n your head !'' 
 
 "Very good, Mr. Wild! I have told you the conse- 
 quences of exciting yourself ! Your life is in your own 
 hands, not in mine !" 
 
 "Will you tell me what that is ?" 
 
 "What, Mr. Wild? I would tell you anything you 
 want to know if I thought it would keep you quiet." 
 
 " Then just tell me what is the meaning of that horrible 
 ringing which seems to go through and through my brain 
 — it seems as though it would lift the top of my head 
 off ?" 
 
 Mr. Snoxall thought of an expedient. 
 
 He resolved to pretend not to hear the sound, but to set 
 it down to his patient's imagination. 
 
 "Ah, Mr. Wild!" he said. 
 
 " What do you mean by ' ah ' villain ?" 
 
 " It is as I feared !" 
 
 "What is?" 
 
 " This is the result of exciting yourself." 
 
 " How do you mean ?" 
 
 " That noise, Mr. Wild — th?t ringing sound— exists 
 nowhere but in your own imagination." 
 
 "Eh? What?" 
 
 " I say it exists only in your imagination." 
 
 Jonathan glared fearfully at the speaker. 
 
 " Can't you hear it ?" he said. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall trembled, as he said • 
 
 " No." 
 
 "Not hear it?" 
 
 " No, Mr. Wild !" he added, with increasing confidence 
 — " the sound which you have described takes its origin 
 in your brain, and is audible to your ears alone." 
 
 The thief-taker looked at the apothecary with a puzzled 
 expression. 
 
 The clanging of the bell still continued. 
 
 He evidently did not know what to think of it. 
 
 There was something too palpable about the sound — if 
 we may be allowed the expression — for him to be able to 
 set it down to his imagination. 
 
 Jonathan Wild was a cunning man ; and, though he laid 
 upon the bed in such a desperate condition, yet his cun- 
 ning did not desert him. 
 
 _ He hit upon a scheme which he fancied would assure 
 him whether the ringing was imagination or reality. 
 
 The scheme was to put his fingers closely in his ears, so 
 as to shut out all outward noises ; and then if he heard 
 the ringing he should set it down to his own imagina- 
 tion. 
 
 H on the contrary, however, when he closed his ears he 
 shut out the ringing of the bell as well as all other sounds, 
 then he should come to the conclusion that it was reality, 
 and that, for some reason or other, Mr. Snoxall was mis- 
 leading and deceiving him. 
 
 Jonathan closed his ears at once. 
 
 The moment he did so the ringing seemed to cease as if 
 by magic. 
 
 In a moment afterwards, however, he could hear it but 
 with extreme faintness. 
 
 He removed his fingers from his ears, and when he did 
 so the ringing appeared to become ten times louder than 
 over. 
 
 Then, like a flash of lightning, Jonathan Wild under- 
 stood what had happened. 
 
 He started upright in bed as though galvanised. 
 
 " An escape !" he yelled. " It is an escape ! It is the 
 alarm-bell of Newgate, and not imagination ! Yes — a 
 
 prisoner has escaped ! But who ? Not ! No, no — not 
 
 him! Not Jack Sheppard; Jack Sheppard has not 
 escaped ! That would be too, too terrible !" 
 
 "Mr. Wild," said Mr. Snoxall, in an earnest tone of 
 voice, " let mo implore you to be calm ! Cannot I make 
 you sensible of the consequences of this excitement — your 
 wound will prove a fatal one !" 
 
 " Silence !" said Wild — " I will know the truth ! Who 
 has escaped?" 
 
 " I know not." 
 
 "You lie! You do!" 
 
 ' I don't, Mr. Wild ! I don't believe anyone has 
 escaped — I have not heard of it. This is mere delirium !" 
 
 " Fool ! Tell me no more such stuff ! I can hear the 
 clanging of the bell, which is never tolled except when 
 some prisoner makes his escape. Call Quilt Arnold — I 
 will learn the news !" 
 
 "Mr. Wild, I dare not call him — I cannot!" 
 
 " If you do not I will jump out of bed and call him my- 
 self— I am determined to know what has happened without 
 delay ! Will you call him, or shall I ?" 
 
 "Mr. Wild, I leave you to your fate!" 
 
 " Will you call him ?" 
 
 " I will — but I will no longer be responsible for your 
 life." 
 
 " D — n you ! who wants you to be responsible ? Call 
 him, I say !" 
 
 Mr. Snoxall thought it would be best to comply, so he 
 opened the door of the room and went to the head of tho 
 stairs. 
 
 Here he called for Quilt Arnold. 
 
 The summons was quickly responded to by that worthy 
 making his appearance. 
 
 A glance was sufficient to show anyone that he was tho 
 bearer of very important news. 
 
 The moment Wild caught sight of his face was enough. 
 
 "Speak!" he cried; "tell me the worst! I know it 
 already. Jack Sheppard has escaped?" 
 
 " He has, Mr. Wild." 
 
 "I knew it! But — but — Quilt — he has been re-cap- 
 tured?" 
 
 Quilt shook his head. 
 
 " I am sorry to say he has not." 
 
 " How escaped ? Not been recaptured ? Surely he 
 cannot have got clear off?" 
 
 " He has indeed, Mr. Wild, and left no trace behind 
 him, while as for " 
 
 Quilt Arnold stopped suddenly in his speech. 
 
 Jonathan Wild sprang out of bed, uttering a yell like 
 that of some ferocious wild beast. 
 
 He hastily proceeded to attire himself. 
 
 Mr. Snoxall watched him with silent wonder, but made 
 no attempt to prevent him. 
 
 He knew the uselessness of it. 
 
 But Wild trembled. 
 
 He stamped his foot violently on the floor, as though by 
 that means he could recover his firmnes' but the attempt 
 was a failure. 
 
 He felt himself growing weaker and weaker, and strove 
 his utmost to bear up against the feeling, but he could 
 not. 
 
 Ere he had half completed the operation of dressing him- 
 self he fell to the floor insensible. 
 
 He was then replaced in his bed. 
 
 Leaving him here, we will return to Mr. Noakes and his 
 followers. 
 
 They had marked the house well upon the roof of which 
 Jack had descended, and, after having once gained the Old 
 Bailey, hastened towards it with all the speed they were 
 capable of making. 
 
 Upon arriving, they commenced making their inquiries, 
 for they thought it not improbable that Jack Sheppard 
 might still be in the house. 
 
 But the evidence of the servant-girl into whose mouth 
 Jack Sheppard had thrust the lighted candle was quite 
 conclusive upon this point. 
 
 She did not know, of course, who the flyiug figure was, 
 but she described the manner in which someone darted 
 past her.
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 627 
 
 As well as she was able to do so, she indicated the direc- 
 tion in which Jack Sheppard had gone, and this was Ota 
 only information they were able to obtain. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was like a madman. 
 
 The prisoner had evidently got clear off, and they had 
 no other resource than to commence an immediate pursuit, 
 in the hope that he might ere long be captured. 
 
 The Governor of Newgate returned to the prison in no 
 enviable frame of mind. 
 
 He was apprehensive not merely of what the authorities 
 might say and do, but he was terribly alarmed at the 
 thought of Jonathan Wild. 
 
 "What will be his anger," he asked himself, "when he 
 knows of it?" 
 
 Mr. Noakes shuddered as he asked himself the question. 
 
 He had one consolation. 
 
 " Thank goodness !" he ejaculated, " he's laid up, and 
 cannot possibly get out. How lucky, to be sure ! Dear 
 me, I feel quite thankful to Blueskin for putting him out 
 of the way, I do indeed ! Why, if Jonathan had been in 
 his usual health Oh dear !" 
 
 The prospect of what would have happened forced a 
 sigh from Mr. Noakes's lips. 
 
 He did not dare pursue the subject further. 
 
 His thoughts now reverted to Jack Sheppard. 
 
 Again there came from his lips another volley of curses. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was indeed terribly frightened. 
 
 It was scarcely possible he should be able to retain his 
 comfortable post of Governor of Newgate after a prisoner 
 had broken out three several times. 
 
 He would have been discharged before, only he hap- 
 pened to have some friends who possessed considerable 
 influence, and whom he had induced to make use of it in 
 his behalf. 
 
 On the present occasion he feared that their influence 
 would be of no avail, so strong would be the feeling against 
 him. 
 
 However, he forwarded the intelligence to the proper 
 quarter, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that in less 
 than half an hour afterwards police officers would bo 
 dispersed in every direction charged with the special duty 
 of apprehending Jack Sheppard. 
 
 The Governor hoped that by the time Wild recovered 
 himself sufficiently to get about, Jack would be once more 
 in Newgate. 
 
 Nevertheless, Mr. Noakes did not sit down to his break- 
 fast that morning with a very good appetite. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCLXXXIII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD DISCOVERS THAT THE BOW STREET RUN- 
 NERS ARE ON HIS TRACK. 
 
 Having brought the narrative up to the present point, we 
 shall now be able to return to the proceedings of Jack 
 Sheppard, and describe what befell him when ho left the 
 shelter of the shed in the fields. 
 
 We have shown the reader how it was that Jonathan 
 Wild did not pay his visit to the cell that Friday even- 
 ing. 
 
 We have shown the reader how it was that Jack Shep- 
 pard was able to gain the shelter of the shed early the next 
 morning, without being seen by any of his pursuers. 
 
 Indeed, when he entered the shed was just about the 
 time when the discovery of his escape was made. 
 
 But before night came — that night when he emerged 
 from his place of concealment to obtain food — all the police 
 officers that could be spared for the purpose were sent off 
 in every direction in search of him. 
 
 By the time he glided off into the fields all London was 
 ringing with the fame of this exploit. 
 
 It was the topic of conversation everywhere. 
 
 And not only in London, but in all the towns and vil- 
 lages adjacent to it, to which the news was quickly trans- 
 mitted. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard fully expected all this, and when he 
 set off upon his expedition lie perfectly comprehended the 
 amount of danger he was about to run. 
 
 But the cravings of nature must be supplied. 
 
 A great many hours had elapsed since he had taken any 
 food, and ho could tell by the sinking feeling that at times 
 came over him that if he waited much longer he should 
 ewoon from sheer exhaustion. 
 
 The hope of being able to procure something quickly 
 
 lent him strength, and he hastened across the fields in a 
 westerly direction with remarkable speed. 
 
 He had no idea, where he was going. 
 
 His intention was to continue on in a straight line Entil 
 he came to a place where such articles as he required could 
 be procured withoxit danger of detection, or, at any rate, of 
 capture. 
 
 And so, looking in the darkness more like a shadow than 
 aught else, he flitted over the fields, more often over his 
 ankles in water than not. 
 
 But he heeded not this. 
 
 As, however, he continued on his way without coming 
 to a habitation of any sort, a sensation of deadly sickness 
 came over him, and he feared that, after all, he should not 
 have strength enough to accomplish his purpose. 
 
 But he struggled on manfully, however, for in the dis- 
 tance ho could discern a few twinkling lights. 
 
 Towards these he directed his steps. 
 
 They seemed to mock his advance, and recede from 
 him, but that was mere fancy, and he knew it. 
 
 They were plainer soon. 
 
 As he drew nearer to the village — for such indeed it 
 was — he proceeded with less haste and greater caution. 
 
 He knew full well how necessary it would be for him to 
 be thoroughly upon his guard. 
 
 He would have to consider attentively eveiy step he 
 took, and keep perpetually on the look-out for danger. 
 
 Jack Sheppard knew what wonderful energy and 
 sagacity Jonathan Wild possessed, and he knew how 
 active the search would be which he would institute. 
 
 He little thought that his powerful foe was helpless in 
 his bed-chamber. 
 
 He was as far from thinking that ho had left Blueskin 
 behind him in the prison from which he had just escaped, 
 or that Edgworth Bess was confined in the thief-taker's 
 house. 
 
 Jack Sheppard entered the village. 
 
 It consisted only of one long straggling street, with 
 houses dotted hero and there along the sides of it. 
 
 But, as the hour was yet early, lights could be perceived 
 at the windows of most of them. 
 
 The first place to which Jack came was the village 
 inn. 
 
 To him this place seemed the veiy personification of 
 comfort, after the rough quarters he had just left. 
 
 A bright light came from the windows on either side of 
 the door. 
 
 This proceeded as much from the huge wood fire that 
 was burning in the grate as from the nickering oil lamp 
 which was suspended from the ceiling. 
 
 Jack crept towards ono of these windows with a 
 stealthy step. 
 
 The blind was not drawn down to the bottom. 
 
 There was just space enough left for him to peep 
 through. 
 
 He did so. 
 
 He caught sight of the huge blazing fire, the very look 
 of which seemed enough to warm one. 
 
 He saw the comfortable seat and the sanded floor. 
 
 Ho saw the villagers sitting round the tables wiih huge 
 tankards of foaming ale before them. 
 
 Complacent content was the predominant expression 
 perceptible upon their countenances. 
 
 They seemed by appearance as though care and troubla 
 were unknown to them even by name. 
 
 Jack could not bear to look upon this scene. 
 
 It offered too powerful a contrast to his own position, 
 which by comparison with them seemed a thousand times 
 more forlorn and wretched than it had ever done before. 
 
 He turned away from this public-house with a very 
 heavy heart. 
 
 He struck his breast and sobbed bitterly. 
 
 But Jack Sheppard was not one to succumb for any 
 length of time to saddening emotions. 
 
 Making an effort, he shook them off, and, like a true 
 philosopher, instead of grieving over his position, set to 
 work to try to make it better. 
 
 He recollected the errand upon which he haa come, and 
 blaming himself for ever having gone near the public- 
 house, he set about his original intention. 
 
 This was to find some small general shop where ho 
 could enter and purchase a few eatables without exciting 
 suspicion. 
 
 Like a shadow, then, he glided along the street, keeping
 
 628 
 
 BT/JESKIV : A ROMANCE. 
 
 close under the shadow of the houses, and otherwise con- 
 coaling himself from observation. 
 
 At length Jack found what he had been looking for. 
 
 He paused before a small cottage, only one story high, 
 which had evidently been built for many years. 
 
 It had but one window on the ground floor, and that was 
 a very small one. 
 
 The panes in it wero very small, and diamond-like in 
 shape. 
 
 The glass of which they wero formed was green in hue, 
 and only semi-transparent. 
 
 A miserable rushlight burned feebly in this window. 
 
 By the aid of it, however, Jack was able to see that he 
 had reached a little huckster's shop, where everything is 
 sold for which there is the least demand. 
 
 The character of the articles displayed for view was 
 heterogeneous in the extreme. 
 
 But Jack caught sight of bread, and cheese, and eggs, 
 and various other articles. 
 
 He could not see whether the shop was occupied by 
 anyone. 
 
 He looked up and down the street, but he could not see 
 anyone stirring. 
 
 All was as silent as the grave. 
 
 After ascertaining this, he resolved to enter the little- 
 shop, let the risk be what it might. 
 
 No sooner had he come to this determination than he 
 approached the door. 
 
 It was closed and fastened with a primitive string and 
 bobbin to lift itp the latch. 
 
 Jack opened the door. 
 
 As he pushed it open on its hinges, a little bell began to 
 tinkle. 
 
 This was a notification that someone had entered. 
 
 Jack closed the door behind him, and then, ttpon looking 
 round, he saw, to his great relief, that there was no other 
 customer in the shop. 
 
 A wheezing, asthmatical kind of cough now attracted 
 his attention, and, looking in the direction from which the 
 sound proceeded, he perceived an old woman emerge from 
 behind a pyramid of bottles of lollypops. 
 
 A glance satisfied Jack that he would not have much to 
 fear from her, for she looked aged enough to be mother to 
 the oldest person in all the village. 
 
 She was purblind, and very deaf, and she found her way 
 to the counter more by feeling her way than by the use o"f 
 her eyes. 
 
 In loud, querulous tones, she said : 
 
 "What do you want ?" 
 
 " A loaf !" said Jack. 
 
 "Eh?" said the old woman. 
 
 She put her hand behind her car as she spoke. 
 
 Jack then understood that she was deaf. 
 
 "A loaf !" he said, putting his mouth as close to her ear 
 as he could. 
 
 " Well— well ! I ain't deaf ! Only a little hard of hear- 
 ing, that's all. Do you want a quartern loaf ?" 
 
 " Yes, two !" 
 
 The old woman produced the articles named. 
 
 " What else ?" 
 
 " Two pounds of cheese !" 
 
 This, after a great deal of fumbling, the old woman also 
 produced. 
 
 Jack then bought a quantity of eggs, and not being able 
 to see anything else in the shop of an eatable character, 
 save some bacon, which would require a fire to cook it' 
 asked her how much the things came to. 
 
 The poor old woman added them up correctly encugh. 
 
 Jack was surprised, for he did not think she could per- 
 form such a feat. 
 
 But then, she had been used to the same thing every day 
 of her life for very many years, so that it almost became a 
 kind of natural instinct. 
 
 Jack paid for the things out of the small sum of monej 
 he possessed, and having stowed them about his person in 
 the best manner he was able, left the shop. 
 
 He retraced his steps with an exactness which would 
 have surprised anyone who was not aware of the careful- 
 ness with which he had noted every object he had passed 
 on his way. 
 
 His return journey led him past the village alehouse 
 and, though he had been so angry with himself for bavins- 
 ventured on the former occasion, he bent his steps towards 
 the window once again. ' 
 
 Why he did so he could scarcely tell. 
 
 Some irresistible fascination seemed to draw him 
 thither. 
 
 But he was well repaid for his pains, since ho ttm made 
 better aware of the extent of his danger. 
 
 The interior of the room in the inn now presented a 
 very different appearance to what it did whe-i he looked in 
 a littlo while before. 
 
 Then all was quiet, contented peace 
 
 Now all was excitement. 
 
 Everyono of those persons who had been sitting down 
 at the table were now standing up. 
 
 They were congregated round a man who Jack imme- 
 diately recognised as a Bow Street Runner. 
 
 The peculiar style of dress,' with the glaring red waist- 
 coat did this, just as the blue suit enables anyone to recog- 
 nise a policeman nowadays. 
 
 This Bow Street Runner was standing in the middle of 
 the tap-room, and the villagers were standing in an 
 irregular circle round him. 
 
 Their mouths were wide open, and their faces expres- 
 sive of the utmost curiosity and interest. 
 
 The wax-tipped ends of their long clay pipes no longer 
 remained between their lips. 
 
 They had removed them in order to be able to pay more 
 attention. 
 
 The Bow Street Runner held in his hand a printed 
 paper. 
 
 From its limp state, it could be seen that it had only 
 just been printed. 
 
 The officer was evidently reading the contents of this 
 bill to his attentive auditors, though Jack had no other 
 proof of it than what his actions provided, for he could 
 not hear a single word. 
 
 But the officer's lips moved, and the occupants of the 
 room had all assumed listening attitudes. 
 
 The wisest thing Jack could have done under these cir- 
 cumstances would have been to fly, for, beyond all ques- 
 tion, the bill which the officer was reading related to him- 
 self. 
 
 He could not see a word of it, but he felt sure that it 
 contained the intelligence of his escape from Newgate, 
 together with the offer of a large reward to any persi in 
 who might capture him, and lodge him in one of His 
 Majesty's jails. 
 
 But although he was so certain of this, Jack did not 
 attempt to move. 
 
 He stood with his face glued to the window-pane, all 
 his senses absorbed by the scene that was taking place 
 before him. 
 
 His danger and his hunger were alike forgotten in the 
 invincible desire he ielt to see all that was going on. 
 
 He watched, then, until the officer had finished reading 
 the bill, and then he saw him turn round and say some- 
 thing in rather a loud tone of voice. 
 
 Jack could only distinguish one word in all he said. 
 
 That one word was — " Reward." 
 
 This over, the officer smoothed the bill out upon one of 
 the tables, and stuck it against one of the walls in the tap- 
 room in a very conspicuous position indeed. 
 
 Jack could see it, but it was too far off, and the light 
 too insufficient for him to be able to make out even the 
 'arge letters. 
 
 Having stuck the bill up in the manner described, the 
 Bow Street Runner pointed to it and said something 
 more. 
 
 Then he abruptly quitted the room. 
 
 Jack Sheppard now thought it was high time to be off. 
 
 The Bow Street Runner might be about to leave the 
 inn, and if he did so, Jack would run considerable risk of 
 being seen. 
 
 So, without waiting another moment, he once more 
 glided off into the darkness, taking his way across the 
 pathless fields towards the shed which had afforded him 
 safe shelter so far. 
 
 He made his way hither, because he knew of no better 
 place to which he could repair. 
 
 He was puzzled once or twice, for the darkness was 
 in truth 'perplexing; but after a moment's consideration 
 he would set forward again. 
 
 At last the ruined shed appeared in sight. 
 
 Desolate as it had looked when he first beheld it, it now 
 seemed to Jack something like a home 
 
 Entering, he closed the door.
 
 BLUES KIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 6'/ 9 
 
 The interior was pitchy dark. 
 
 He shivered, too, with cold — with that damp, raw cold 
 which seems to strike from the ground. 
 
 He deposited his eatables upon the ground. 
 
 How great a comfort a fire would have been ! 
 
 The genial warmth would not only have made that dis- 
 mal shed appear more cheerful than it did, and warmed 
 his chilled blood, but it would also, he fancied, have alle- 
 viated the aching and smarting of his legs, which were 
 terribly galled by the fetters, and swollen to more than 
 twice their usual size. 
 
 His feet and legs, too, were very wet, and the damp 
 garments clinging to his skin materially increased the dis- 
 comfort which he experienced. 
 
 But ho was compelled to banish the thought, for a fire 
 was utterly out of the question. 
 
 He had not the materials wherewith to make it, for 
 everything was soddened with water; nor had he the 
 means of striking a light — if he had, he would not have 
 worked his way out of Newgate in the dark as he did. 
 
 So he was forced to abandon the idea altogether. 
 
 He contented himself with thinking that his position 
 might be much worse, for he might not have any food. 
 
 Now, however, he was well provided with eatables, and 
 there was no fear that he would perish of starvation just 
 at present. 
 
 The eggs ho ate raw. 
 
 In this way they were not so palatable as they would 
 have been if cooked, but Jack ate them because he knew 
 what a large amount of nutriment they contained. 
 
 He finished up his meal with a little of the bread and 
 cheese, and tied the remainder up for future use. 
 
 Then, feeling much exhausted, he lay down in the 
 warmest and most comfortable corner he could find, and 
 composed himself to sleep. 
 
 The deep silence and the darkness were provocative of 
 slumber, and in a few moments Jack was unconscious of 
 everything. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXIV. 
 
 JACK SIIEPPAKD FINDS IT NO EASY SUTTER TO GET KID 
 OF HIS FETTERS. 
 
 When Jack Sheppard awoke it was broad daylight. 
 
 He started to his feet and looked about him. 
 
 But he saw nothing to excite alarm or apprehension. 
 
 On the contrary, all was as still as it had been during 
 the whole of his stay there. 
 
 Going to the door of the shed, he once more looked 
 out. 
 
 But the prospect was as cheerless as ever. 
 
 The rain still continued to fall down, without scarcely 
 any intermission, and all the fields he could seo were 
 partially under water. 
 
 The ground, too, was so thoroughly saturated with 
 water, that it seemed as soft as a bog. 
 
 It made Jack uncomfortable when he saw the state of 
 the weather, and he entered the shed again. 
 
 Sitting down, he partook of some more bread and 
 cheese, after which he felt much better. 
 
 The first and most important thing he had to do was to 
 get rid of his fetters, but how to do this was as great a 
 puzzle as ever. 
 
 Still, it was quite certain he would bo obliged to dis- 
 encumber himself of them, or else they would inevitably 
 betray him, let him go where he would. 
 
 But how was this to be done ? 
 
 Jack set to work to think. 
 
 He was rather clever in a general way in getting out of 
 these sort of difficulties, but on the present occasion he 
 was baffled. 
 
 He had not a tool of any description wherewith to rid 
 himself of them, and his hands were quite useless of 
 themselves. 
 
 It was a long time before Jack could think of any ex- 
 pedient whatever, but at last he hit upon one. 
 
 Still, it was one that did not please him, and he would 
 have been glad to devise a better ; but he could not, so he 
 was obliged to put it into execution. 
 
 It was to obtain two stones, and place the ring of his 
 fetter just where it fitted over his ankle upon one, while 
 the other ho was to use as a hammer. 
 
 In this way he hoped to be able to beat these rings or 
 b&zils into an oval form. 
 
 If he could do this he felt sure he should be able to slip 
 his heels through, and so get rid of them. 
 
 Having resolved upon this course, he looked about him 
 for the stones, and having found two that would answer 
 his purpose, he set to work in the manner we have de- 
 scribed. 
 
 But the iron was too strong to be bent by any such 
 moans. 
 
 Moreover, every blow he struck inflicted excruciating 
 pain upon him. 
 
 Bat Jack Sheppard would not have minded that much, 
 if he could have seen that ho was making some progress 
 with his work. 
 
 He had, however, no such encouragement. 
 
 He could not see that ho had made the least impression 
 on the strong iron rings, and finally he flung away the 
 stones in despair. 
 
 He could almost have wept, so great was his disappoint- 
 ment ; bnt he controlled this manifestation of weakness. 
 
 Still he might have been excused for giving way to 
 grief in such a manner. 
 
 It was a most disheartening prospect to look forward to. 
 
 The difficulty of getting his feet out of the fetters 
 would surely never be less than it was at that moment, 
 and yet he had tried his best, and found it impossible. 
 
 Perplexed and grieved, Jack let his head sink between 
 his hands, and for some moments gave way to despair. 
 
 He had stayed in that shed quite as long as it was safe 
 for him to do so. It was a lonely, out-of-the-way placo 
 certainly, but still there were times when it was visited, 
 and when cattle were stored in it, as the condition of the 
 floor testified. 
 
 Any visit, then, could not fail to be dangerous to Jack. 
 
 But while the iron work still weighed upon his limbs, 
 how was he to leave. There was great peril in travelling 
 by night, and should anyone see the fetters, discovery 
 would be certain. 
 
 And not only this, Jack Sheppard was anxious in the 
 extreme to discover the whereabouts of Edgworth Bess, 
 and take measures for removing her from Wild's custody. 
 
 He wished, also, to find his old comrade, Blueskin, and 
 be guided by him as to the best plan of action for him to 
 adopt. 
 
 But he was confined in that shed almost as much as if 
 it was a prison. 
 
 His legs pained him dreadfully. 
 
 In hammering the iron rings with the stones he had 
 bruised his own limbs, and their swollen disordered stato 
 made them more than ever sensible to pain. 
 
 He had not the courage to try this again. 
 
 Suddenly he started. 
 
 The sound of a footstep came upon his ear. 
 
 It came upon him with great abruptness, and, as it 
 seemed, the very moment ho heard the step the door of 
 the shed was thrown open. 
 
 Jack was sitting down. 
 
 He had no time to start to his feet, so he endeavoured 
 to cover over his fetters with the tails of his coat. 
 
 A man appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 A stout, red-faced, irascible-looking man, who in eveiy 
 way was the living personification of an English farmer. 
 
 Jack resolved to sit still, and brazen the matter out as 
 well as he could. 
 
 He fancied that while ho remained in this position there 
 would not be so much to fear from a recognition. 
 
 Everything would depend upon whether this man had 
 heard the intelligence of his escape, and learned that a 
 large reward had been offered. 
 
 Tf he was ignorant of this, Jack fancied he should bo 
 at)Ie to invent a plausible tale that would deceive him. 
 
 This was almost too much to hope for, though. 
 
 Had ho not with his own eyes seen a police officer in 
 the ale-house of the next village reading a bill offering a 
 reward for his recapture ? 
 
 Such news would quickly spread in a little placo where 
 generally there was a great dearth of subject matter for 
 conversation, and it was too much to hope that this man 
 was quite ignorant of all. 
 
 These thoughts, which we have set down at some 
 length, flashed through Jack Shcppard's mind in the 
 course of a single moment. 
 
 At first the man did not see Jack, for ho happened to be 
 sitting down in the shade. 
 
 But as soon as he caught sight of him, the man cried :
 
 630 
 
 BLfESUn?: A ROlfAS'CE. 
 
 " Hallo — hallo ! Who have we hero ?" 
 
 " A poor devil," replied Jack, in a whining voice, " who 
 will be heartily glad of a little assistance." 
 
 " But who are you ? What are you doing here ? Don't 
 you know this is my cattle-shed, and that you are com- 
 mitting a trespass ? Come, get up— tramp <" 
 
 Jack uttered a dismal groan. 
 
 " There, there — don't make that awful noise ! Get up 
 and be off, and think yourself lucky that I let you off so 
 easily !" 
 
 " Worthy sir !" 
 
 "Eh— what?" 
 
 "I say I am very tired," said Jack. "I have travelled 
 many miles, and just v hen I was ready to lie down in the 
 road and die of exhaustion, I spied this shed in the dis- 
 tance, and crawled towards it in the hope that I might 
 rest myself for a little while." 
 
 " Bah — stuff ! Get out ! Do you think I can have my 
 cattle-shed made a resting-place for all the tramps in the 
 kingdom? It isn't likely ! Be off with you!" 
 
 "Let me stay here a little longer, good sir !" said Jack, 
 who began to hope that this farmer-looking man had no 
 suspicions of who he was ; " I am so very tired, and when 
 I have rested a little while, I will go my ways in peace." 
 
 "Oh! will you?" 
 
 " I will indeed, sir !" 
 
 " But I don't intend you should remain here, and that's 
 flat !" 
 
 " Surely, sir, you wouldn't be so cruel as to force me to 
 leave this place when I have not strength enough to 
 walk ? I am not doing you any harm, good sir, nor your 
 shed either. You will let me stay, sir, will you not?" 
 
 " Who are you, then ? Tell me who you are, and then 
 I'll see." 
 
 The farmer relented a little, being evidently touched by 
 the manner in which Jack spoke to him. 
 
 Now was the time, then, for Sheppard to exercise his 
 invention, for it would never have done to have confessed 
 who he was. 
 
 Without appealing to hesitate, he replied : 
 
 " As I told you, sir, I am a poor unfortuuato devil who 
 was unlucky enough to get into a scrape." 
 
 " What sort of a scrape ?" 
 
 " Well, you see, sir, I am an apprentice, and lived in the 
 house along with my master, Mr. Smith." 
 
 " And what's your name ?" 
 
 "John Jones, sir, at your service." 
 
 " Well, go on, and tell me what sort of a scrape you got 
 into." 
 
 Jack laughed. 
 
 "I don't know what you will say to it," he said; " but 
 the fact is, I got very friendly with my master's ser- 
 vant." 
 
 It was now the fanner's turn to laugh, and laugh he did 
 with great heartiness. 
 
 There was something which tickled his fancy in Jack's 
 apparently candid avowal. 
 
 " Go on !" he cried, controlling his laughter with diffi- 
 culty — " go on, you dog, do. I can't help laughing, it so 
 reminds me of a But go on, you rascal, go on !" 
 
 Jack was well pleased to think ho had put the farmer 
 into a good temper, and this encouraged him to proceed, 
 and call still further upon his imagination. 
 
 "Do you want to know all, sir ?" 
 
 " Of course I do, you rascal ! Ha, ha ! And what was 
 the result of you and your master's servant being on such 
 good terms with each other ?" 
 
 " A very natural result !" 
 
 "What was it?" 
 
 "Why, some little time afterwards my master found an 
 increase had taken place in his family." 
 
 " Good — good ! What next ?" 
 
 " Why, now comes the unfortunate part of my story, 
 and the reason I am in this plight." 
 
 " Well, well ! Go on !" 
 
 "My master sent the girl packing as soon as he could, 
 and her child as well ; and then what do you think the 
 ungrateful girl did ?" 
 
 " Ha, ha — I don't know ! Had you up before the magis- 
 trate, pei-haps ?" 
 
 " That was just what she did do. Now, don't you call 
 that ingratitude? Why, sho ought to have thanked 
 me!" 
 
 " Go on with your tale ! It fetches tears into my eyes 
 
 — that it does! It so reminds me ! But go on — go 
 
 on!" 
 
 " I have not much more to tell. She swore the child on 
 to me, and the magistrate ordered me to pay half-a-crown 
 a week !" 
 
 The farmer rubbed his hands together. 
 
 "Just the same !" he said — " just the same !" 
 
 " But that isn't all !" said Jack, "He insisted upon my 
 finding security for the regular payment of the money !" 
 
 " The devil !" 
 
 "Well, I could not find any security — no one would be 
 security for me ! I was earning no wages, and was not 
 likely to be for some years. So tho magistrate very kindly 
 sent me to Bridewell." 
 
 "The deuce he did!" 
 
 " I can assure you he did !" 
 
 "Then, all I can say, he was very hard upon you! 
 Perhaps you wonder why I laughed at you ? I will tell 
 you. When I was a youngster I got into the same scrape 
 myself, and had half-a-crown a week to pay for thirteen 
 years ! Ha, ha !" 
 
 " Perhaps you were able to pay the half-crown ?" 
 
 " Well, yes, I was." 
 
 " That's just the difference between you and me, then. 
 I was sent to Bridewell." 
 
 " And how did you get out ?" 
 
 " Escaped." 
 
 "Eh?" 
 
 " Escaped." 
 
 " Escaped from Bridewell ?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "When?" 
 
 " Tho day before yesterday." 
 
 " And what have you been doing ever since ?" 
 
 " Travelling from London on foot." 
 
 "And where are you going?" 
 
 " To Staffordshire, where all my friends reside." 
 
 " Oh !" 
 
 " But I got tired on the way, and, having no money in 
 my pocket, could not get a night's lodging at an inn, so I 
 crawled in here to rest myself." 
 
 " Are you sure you are speaking the truth ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well, all I can say is you have been very hard done 
 by. But some how or other, I can't exactly believe it." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Well, I don't." 
 
 " I am sorry for that, sir ; and if you will let mo stay 
 here a little while longer until I have rested myself, I will 
 depart and give you no further trouble." 
 
 "Well, well! I can't help disbelieving you, you 
 know." 
 
 " Of course not !" 
 
 " However, stand up, and let me havo a look at you ! 
 When I see what you are like, perhaps I shall believe 
 you." 
 
 "Why do you want me to stand up?" 
 
 " To see you." 
 
 " Can't you see me here ?" 
 
 "No, for hang me if I don't think you have got into the 
 dai-kest corner of the shed ! I can't see you a bit. Stand 
 up, I say, and let me have a look at you, or you sha'n't stay 
 in this shed a moment longer." 
 
 The reader will understand that the farmer had not seen 
 I Jack's fetters, and was quite ignorant that he was encum- 
 bered with anything of the kind. 
 
 But if Jack stood up, he could not fail to discover it. 
 
 This would most likely engender suspicion. 
 
 Jack was in a dilemma. 
 
 He had very little time for making up his mind, but in 
 the end he decided that the best thing he could do was to 
 stand up and explain the circumstances as well as he 
 could. 
 
 So he rose to his feet. 
 
 But as he did so, he could not prevent his fetters from 
 clanking dismally against each other. 
 
 The farmer started back a pace. 
 
 "What is that?" he said. 
 
 "Oh, nothing!" replied Jack. 
 
 " Nothing >" 
 
 " Well, that is, nothing particular." 
 
 " Stand up, then !" 
 
 " I am standing up." 
 
 " But come here to the light ! Let me Iock at you !
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROMANCE. 
 
 631 
 
 Why, may I never drink again if you have not got fetters 
 ©n !" 
 
 " I know that — didn't I tell you so ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 "Well, I thought I did." 
 
 " But how come you with fetters on ?" 
 
 " They were put on." 
 
 " What for ?" 
 
 " While I was in Bridewell." 
 
 " But what for ?" 
 
 "Oh, nothing particular! I hit the jailer a topper 
 once, and they said I was violent, and put these irons on 
 me ; but I made up my mind to escape, and I did so." 
 
 " Oh indeed !" 
 
 " Yes — here I am !" 
 
 " I see you, and I'll tell you what, my fine spark — I 
 don't half like the look of you !" 
 
 " I am sorry for that." 
 
 " I daresay you are, but it strikes mc you look more. 
 like some desperate burglar or murderer than anything 
 else !" 
 
 " Well, everyone is entitled to his own opinion ; and I 
 am sorry my appearance does not please you." 
 
 " It don't, and that's flat !" 
 
 " I have told you my history, and I thought you would 
 be sorry for me." 
 
 "Did you?" 
 
 " I did indeed !" 
 
 " Then I ain't ! I dont like the looks of you a bit, and 
 the sooner you walk your carcass out of my shed, the better 
 I shall be pleased !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXV. 
 
 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH DISENCUMBERS JACK SHEP- 
 PARD OF HIS FETTERS. 
 
 Jack Sheppakd was sadly afraid that the suspicions of 
 the fanner were aroused, and that he guessed who he 
 really was ; still, he was loth to think this without some 
 better evidence of the fact. 
 
 " I will go directly," said Jack, "if you would lend me 
 a hammer and a punch, to get rid of these fetters ; and I 
 would thank you into the bargain !" 
 
 "I daresay you would, my spark; but I have no 
 hammer and punch to lend you, so you will have to do 
 without ; and let me tell you this once more, if you want 
 to please me, get out !" 
 
 " But it can't do you any harm to let me stay here ! Let 
 me rest myself and I will depart. You will never see me 
 again, for I am going to a distant part of the kingdom." 
 " And a good job too !" 
 " I wish I was there." 
 " Well, you can stay and rest yourself !" 
 " Many thanks." 
 
 " But, mind you, I don't believe one word of all the long 
 6tory you have told me, except that you have broken out 
 of prison, and that I can readily credit." 
 
 " I am sorry that you disbelieve me, sir," said Jack, 
 " but at the same time I feel more thankful than I can ex- 
 press that you have promised to let me stay here to rest 
 myself, for I feel now that if I attempted to walk a few 
 yards I should sink to the earth." 
 
 "You do look tired, and if you have travelled from 
 London with that weight at your heels, I am quite sure 
 you must be ! I am not hard-hearted enough to turn you 
 off, but don't let me see you here when I come back 
 again !" 
 
 With these words the former rather abruptly q"Hted 
 the shed. 
 
 Jack hastened to the door and watched him take his 
 course across the fields. 
 
 By the attitude of the farmer he could tell that ho was 
 thinking over what had just occurred. 
 
 " This will no longer be a place for me !" said Jack to 
 himself. " I must be off — there's no doubt about that. 
 He may not suspect me much now, but if he happens to 
 como across any of those fellows I saw in the public- 
 house last night, and they get telling him about my escape, 
 he will conclude at once who I really am." 
 
 There seemed an extreme degree of probability about 
 this. 
 
 "Yes, I must be off !" continued Jack Shcppard, uucon- 
 BOloudy uttering his thoughts aloud— " I must be off, for 
 
 there is no knowing how soon he may make the discovery, 
 and I know very well his head will be full of his meeting 
 with me all the rest of the day. Oh, if I could only get 
 rid of these fetters, how soon would I show them a clean 
 pair of heels !" 
 
 But the removal of the fetters now seemed to bo a more 
 difficult matter than before, and there were clearly only 
 two ways by which he could rid himself of them. 
 One was, to file through the thick iron ring. 
 The other, to punch the rivets out. 
 There was no longer the least hope of bending them 
 into an oval shape, and slipping them over his heels, as ho 
 thought he should be able to do. 
 
 The flesh had swollen, both above and below these rings, 
 to such a degree that they threatened to become perfectly 
 buried. 
 
 The pain was almost more than he could endure. 
 He was compelled to call all his fortitude to his aid. 
 Jack watched the figure of the farmer until he dis- 
 appeared from view, and then he went back into the shed 
 again. 
 
 " I must leave here !" he said. " And yet what a 
 terrible risk to do so by daylight! Would that night 
 would come! Many hours will have to elapse before 
 then ! I will try todisguise myself — that is the only thing 
 I can do." 
 
 Jack had very limited means of disguising himself, 
 but he made them all available to the utmost. 
 
 He took his cap and toro it into shreds, and then bound 
 it on his head with a pocket handkerchief. 
 
 He also tore his coat and stockings in many places. 
 His intention was to make himself look as much liko 
 a wandering mendicant as possible. 
 
 In this attempt he succeeded tolerably well. 
 Fortunately his great-coat was long, and this concealed 
 his fetters pretty well. 
 
 With one of the strips of cloth he tied them to his legs 
 in such a manner as would, he hoped, prevent them from 
 jingling. 
 
 But he could not, with all his art, altogether hide 
 them from view, though they might escape notice at a 
 casual glance. 
 
 As soon as he had done this, Jack made a hearty meal, 
 and stored the rest of his provisions about his person in 
 the best manner ho could. 
 Then he cautiously peeped forth. 
 He was unable to catch a glimpse of anyone. 
 Not without some regret he emerged from the shed. 
 It had afforded him safe shelter for many hours, and 
 consequently he felt a kind of affection for it. 
 Now, however, it was untenable. 
 
 Jack glanced up at the sun, which was shining brightly 
 in the sky, though rather low down on the horizon. 
 
 This glance enabled him to define the four points of the 
 compass. 
 
 He determined not to make his way back to the village 
 from which he had procured the provisions, but to leave 
 it on his left hand, and take a northerly direction. 
 
 His intention was, if he could get rid of his fetters, to 
 make his way back to London by a circuitous route. 
 
 Every few yards he went he would pause and look 
 keenly and searchingly all around him, so as to be aware 
 at the earliest possible moment when any persons made 
 their appearance. 
 
 But he seemed to have those fields all to himself, for ho 
 was not able to see a single individual. 
 
 Encouraged by this, he pushed on, and ere long he quite 
 lost sight of the shed. 
 
 Whether the fanner returned to it was more than ho 
 ever knew. 
 
 Concealing himself as much as possible by walking 
 behind hedges, and stooping down as he went so that his 
 head should not be seen above them, Jack proceeded for a 
 long time without meeting with any interruption. 
 
 At length, however, he saw a village in the distance 
 before him. . , 
 
 What village it was he had no idea, but fancied it must 
 be Tottenham. 
 
 To approach this any more closely would be unwise, 
 especially during daylight. 
 
 Besides, he had already got quite as far away from 
 London as he desired to be. 
 
 Ho was looking forward to the time when he should 
 return to the scene of his old exploits.
 
 632 
 
 BUTESKIS : A ROMANCE. 
 
 Under these circumstances, then, he very naturally 
 looked about him for some place of concealment. 
 
 But he was unable to see another shed. 
 
 Still he cast his eyes all around, but he could see nothing 
 but some tall evergreen trees, which grew at a little 
 distance to the right of the spot upon which he 
 stood. 
 
 He debated in his own mind whether he should hide in 
 one of these. 
 
 " I have heard of such a thing," he muttered. "Did 
 not King Charles hide in a tree when all his enemies were 
 after him? Of course he did. And why shouldn't I ?" 
 
 There was no earthly reason why Jack shou^ ocl 
 follow his example if he thought proper. 
 
 Jack paused a moment to consider. 
 
 " I have a great mind to try it. I can't see any other 
 place, and I am very tired. I have some hours to 
 wait, and I think I could spend them as well there as any- 
 where. It's no good walking on any further ; I will climb 
 up and chance it. 
 
 Having made up his mind, Jack Sheppard directed his 
 steps towards the little clump of trees which had attracted 
 his notice. 
 
 They were conspicuous in consequence of the deep 
 green colour of their foliage, which showed out in re- 
 markable contrast to the bare and leafless branches of the 
 other trees. 
 
 On his way Jack abated none of his caution. 
 
 He was somewhat surprised to find, however, that these 
 trees grew on the margin of a rather broad road. 
 
 Upon seeing this, Jack hesitated as to whether he should 
 carry out his original intention. 
 
 By the appearance which the road presented, it seemed 
 as though it was tolerably well frequented. 
 
 Still, from behind the hedge where he stood Jack 
 commanded a view for a considerable distance up and 
 down it, but he could not see anyone approaching. 
 
 " It's no good hesitating," he said at length. " There 
 seems to be nobody about. I will climb up, and who 
 knows ? I might discover something !" 
 
 To Jack Sheppard the task of climbing a tree was very 
 easily performed, and though his fetters were in the way 
 he accomplished the feat without difficulty. 
 
 For one thing, the branches grew so near the ground 
 that he had but to give a spring and take hold of one with 
 his hands. 
 
 All he had to do then was to draw himself up by means 
 of the muscles in his arms. 
 
 In less time, then, than anyone would have believed 
 was necessary for the accomplishment of such an act, 
 Jack Sheppard was up in the tree and ensconced among 
 the branches. 
 
 From the road below he felt there was no danger of 
 being seen, for the long dark branches of the tree afforded 
 an effectual screen. 
 
 Jack Sheppard fancied he should be able to spend the 
 day here quite comfortably. 
 
 Ere long, however, he perceived in the distance the 
 form of a man. 
 
 He was on foot, and trudging along at a steady pace. 
 
 There was nothing in his appearance calculated to 
 attract notice, and yet Jack looked at him attentively. 
 
 The reason for this was simple enough. 
 _ Jack had _ nothing whatever to do to pass away the 
 time, and this was the first human being he had seen since 
 he parted with the farmer. 
 
 He watched this man, then, with a degree of curiosity 
 and interest that was really remarkable. 
 
 As the man came nearer, Jack noticed that he carried in 
 one hand a kind of pail or can. 
 
 In the other he carried what looked like a bundle of 
 walking-sticks. 
 
 Jack grew more interested than ever. 
 
 The next thing he noticed was that the man carried a 
 kind of pouch, which was suspended from his shoulders by 
 a leather strap. 
 
 What was in this pouch Jack could not tell. 
 
 The man trudged on steadily enough until he came to 
 the tree in which Jack was concealed. 
 
 Then he paused. 
 
 Jack's interest now gave way to wonder. 
 
 " I think that will do !" the man said. 
 
 As he spoke, he put the can he was carrying down on 
 the ground, and as -soon as Jack caught a glance at this he 
 
 understood what the man was, and what his object was 
 too. 
 
 He was a bill-sticker. 
 
 The can contained a brush and a quantity of paste. 
 
 The bundle of sticks he used for placing the bills against 
 any object which he could not reach without then* aid. 
 
 The pouch by his side contained bills. 
 
 Jack receeived practical proof that his surmises were 
 correct, for, with the speed and dexterity produced by long 
 practice, he posted a bill on the trunk of the tree. 
 
 So intently was Jack occupied in watching this man 
 that he had failed to notice that a man was approaching 
 from the opposite direction, and did not see him until he 
 halted close to the bill-stinker. 
 
 " Hallo !" he cried. " What's the game, mate ?" 
 
 The bill-sticker turned round. 
 
 " Can't you see ?" he asked. 
 
 " I can see summat sticking to the tree." 
 
 " Can't you read ?" 
 
 " Not I ! What do I want with laming ?" 
 
 " Well, since you can't read," said the bill-sticker, "I 
 will tell you what it says on that paper, and when you 
 hear it, if you don't wish you had learned to read, call me a 
 horse !" 
 
 " Go on, then, let us hear it !" 
 
 "Well, it offers five hundred pounds reward for the ap- 
 prehension of the notorious burglar, Jack Sheppard !" 
 
 " Lor' ! five bun " 
 
 " Dred pounds !" 
 
 " My eye !" 
 
 " You understand the King offers this money to anyone 
 who shall captiu - e this Jack Sheppard and lodge him in 
 jail !" 
 
 " Loi - ', does he ? My eye ! Don't I wish I could drop 
 across him !" 
 
 " Listen !" said the bill-sticker. " He has escaped from 
 Newgate, in which prison he lay under sentence of death. 
 He is a young-looking chap — very thin. Inclined to be 
 dark — is dressed in the costume of a gentleman, and is 
 supposed to have part of his fetters upon him." 
 
 " Oh, lawks, don't I wish I knew where he was '" 
 
 • Well, keep your eyes open, and look well at every- 
 body, and then you will stand as good a chance of ob- 
 taining the reward as anyone else." 
 
 "Won't I, that's aK ! Good morning, Mr. Bill-sticker! 
 I must go ; but I be much obheged to you, I be !" 
 
 With these words, the rustic continued on his way. 
 
 The bill-sticker took up his apparatus, and trudged off 
 in the opposite direction. 
 
 We leave the reader to imagine Jack's feelings while he 
 listened to this conversation. 
 
 He watched the two men until they were both out of 
 sight. 
 
 " How pleasant !" he said, at length. "I suppose that 
 infernal bill-sticker will go on pasting those bills up every- 
 where. Why, England, in a little time, will be too hot to 
 hold me. Confound him ! And that other lubber. What 
 shall I do?" 
 
 Jack Sheppard was rather perplexed. 
 
 He rubbed his head reflectively. 
 
 " I don't see why I should leave that bill there !" ho 
 said. " I will go down and get it. It will make one the 
 less. I don't see either, why I should be annoyed by 
 people stopping to read it just under my nose ; besides, I 
 should like to know what it is about." 
 
 Jack looked up and down the road very carefully. 
 
 He could not, however, see anyone coming. 
 
 Cautiously, and yet rapidly, he commenced the descent 
 of the tree. 
 
 Just before he quitted the protecting shadow of its 
 branches, he gave another glance up and down the road. 
 
 But it was quite deserted, and so, without more ado, 
 Jack dropped on to the ground. 
 
 To possess himself of the bill was but the work of a i 
 moment, for the paste was quite wet, and he stripped it 
 off the bark of the'.tree very easily. 
 
 Crushing it up, he.'thrust it into his pocket, and ascended 
 the tree -with all speed. 
 
 In a moment more he had gained his old position. 
 
 With trembling hands, then, he smoothed out the bill 
 and began to read it. 
 
 He found the bill-sticker was quite correct. 
 
 A reward of five hundred pounds was offered by the 
 Government for his apprehension, to bo paid to any person
 
 JACK 6HEPPABD FATS HIS PBOMISED VISIT TO SIB JAJIES THOBNHH4U 
 
 or persons who should lodge him in one of His Majesty's 
 prisons. » 
 
 The bill gave no particulars of the manner in which 
 he had effected his escape, but simply stated that he had 
 broken out of Newgate while confined there under sen- 
 tence of death. 
 
 The document concluded with a tolerably accurate 
 description of his personal appearance. 
 
 Having read the bill from beginning to end twice, Jack 
 crumpled it up again and put it into his pocket. 
 
 "This is a very comfortable state of things!" he re- 
 marked — " I shall fancy now that every person I see has 
 read one of these infernal bills and is on the look-out for 
 me ! Well, never mind — I cannot help it ! I should 
 advise those who attempt to interfere with me to look 
 after themselves — that's all !" 
 
 With these words, Jack relapsed into silence. 
 
 His meditations, however, ran chiefly on the bills, and 
 the effects they were likely to produce. 
 
 In this manner he passed away the time until night. 
 
 No. 80. — Blueskk. 
 
 Plenty of people and vehicles passed below him along 
 the road, but of course no notice was taken of him. 
 
 He made another hearty meal from his store of provi- 
 sions, and then, when night came, he felt not only rested, 
 but strong too. 
 
 He did not venture to descend until it was quite dark. 
 
 Then he lowered himself out of the tree. 
 
 The road which the trees skirted was deserted, and he 
 made up his mind to run the risk of proceeding along it 
 like an ordinary pedestrian. 
 
 There was a gap in the hedge close by, and through 
 this he forced hie way. 
 
 In another moment he was in the road, trudging slowly 
 towards the village. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXVL 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD MEETS WITH A FRIEND AT AS USES- 
 PECTED MOMENT. 
 
 It was a very dark night. 
 
 $0,-6%
 
 634 
 
 BULESKIW: A ROMANCE. 
 
 ■Tack was glad of this, because there was less fear of his 
 being discovered or noticed. 
 
 Without meeting with a soul, or having any incident 
 worthy of record, Jack walked about a mile along the 
 road. 
 
 He then came in sight of some buildings, and he imme- 
 diately became more cautious in his progress. 
 
 All "the way he went, however, his mind was occupied 
 with one idea. 
 
 That was, to get rid of his fetters. 
 
 He felt that for the sake of being free from them he would 
 gladly run a considerable amount of risk. 
 
 Presently Jack paused. 
 
 Just a little way further on, on the left-hand side of the 
 road, he could see the dim outlines of a shed. 
 
 From the window and door of this place there issued 
 bright but fitful beams of light. 
 
 Jack guessed in a moment that it was a blacksmith's 
 shop. 
 
 Here, then, was a place containing the tools that would 
 free him from his fetters. 
 
 But was there any hope that he would be able to obtain 
 them ? 
 
 He crept forward slowly. 
 
 In about a moment, the blacksmith's shop was reached. 
 
 Jack paused near the window, which consisted merely 
 of an aperture in the wall, which could be closed, if neces- 
 sary, by a wooden shutter. 
 
 Grasping this shutter, Jack bent forward, and peeped 
 ints the shed. 
 
 It contained only one person. 
 
 He was a blacksmith evidently, and was engaged at his 
 trade 
 
 Jack watched for several moments. 
 
 "Shall I risk it?" he asked himself. " Perhaps I can 
 bribe him to remove the irons ! I have some money by 
 me, and I could not put it to a better use. I have a good 
 mind to try. Suppose I tell him the same tale as I told 
 the farmer? He believed it, and why should not this 
 blacksmith ? I have a great mind to try it on." 
 
 Jack deliberated some moments longer. 
 
 It was no trifling thing that he was about to do. 
 
 The blacksmith probably enough had seen one of the 
 bills offering a reward for his apprehension, and if so, he 
 would recognise him from the description at once. 
 
 Had his position been less desperate than it was, Jack 
 would have continued on his way, in the hope of getting 
 rid of his irons in some less dangerous manner. 
 
 But, under the circumstances, he resolved to make the 
 trial. 
 
 He walked slowly to the door of the shop. 
 
 The fierceness of the blaze had now somewhat decreased, 
 eo his body was not revealed with that degree of bright- 
 ness that it would have been had he entered a little while 
 previously. 
 
 Hearing a footstep, the blacksmith locked up from the 
 piece of iron he had been fashioning. 
 
 He eyed his visitor inquiringly. 
 
 Jack stepped in quickly, and took up his position in the 
 shade. 
 
 " Who are you ?" said the blacksmith. " What do you 
 want?" 
 
 In reply to this interrogation, Jack repeated, with little 
 variation, the tale that he had told to the farmer. 
 
 In conclusion, he said : 
 
 " So now you know how it is that I have got these fet- 
 ters on. I am not very rich, but I dare say I could find 
 twenty shillings to give you, if you would take a hammer 
 and punch, and knock the rivets out !" 
 
 The blacksmith shook his head. 
 
 "You have told me a very plausible tale," he said — "a 
 very*, plausible tale indeed ! It might do with some folks, 
 but it won't do with me! Oh dear no !— not at all ! I 
 know you !" 
 
 Jack started violently, and clenched his fists. 
 
 The blacksmith rested his arms on the handle of his 
 sledge-hammer, and looked with a smile into Jack's face. 
 
 "Yes," he said, " I know you ! You are Jack Shep- 
 pard! I have seen a bill oifering five hundred pounds to 
 anyone who should lodge you in jail!" 
 
 Jack uttered a curse. 
 
 "It's a fact, lean assure you!" said the blacksmith, 
 calmly. 
 
 "Well, since you know who I am," growled Jack 
 
 Sheppard, " perhaps you will try to take me prisoner? Pol 
 your own sake, I should advise you to let me alone ! You 
 will find it no easy matter to effect my capture ! I look a 
 stripling, I know, but I have more strength than perhaps 
 you would give me credit for !" 
 
 "Don t put yourself about!" 
 
 " I don't intend." 
 
 " I mean, you have no cause to be frightened of me !" 
 
 Jack laughed. 
 
 " I never was frightened yet !" 
 
 " You either don't or won't understand me !" replied the 
 blacksmith. "I know you — I recognised you in a moment 
 — but I wish you no harm. You are a clever fellow, and I 
 admire you for your cleverness !" 
 
 The blacksmith held out his hand as he spoke. 
 
 Jack was so surprised by this speech, so different as it 
 was to what he had expected, that for a moment he stood 
 quite bewildered. 
 
 He did not know whether to take the proffered hand 
 or not. 
 
 The blacksmith observed his hesitation, and seemed to 
 understand it. 
 
 " Do not feel doubtful of my good faith," he said. " I 
 assure you I am quite sincere ! Shake hands with me ! 
 We shall be friends — I feel certain of it !" 
 
 •Jack recovered himself. 
 
 He looked keenly into the blacksmith's swarthy coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 The result of the scrutiny was perfectly satisfactory. 
 
 The expression which appeared upon it was certainly 
 friendly to him. 
 
 Therefore Jack hesitated no longer, but stretched out 
 his hand. 
 
 The blacksmith seized it with manifest eagerness and 
 pleasure. 
 
 He shook it warmly — rather too war.nly to bo pleasant. 
 
 Jack could scarcely endure the pressure. 
 
 " I seems, then, that I have found an unexpected and 
 unlooked-for friend," he said. 
 
 "You have!" responded the blacksmith, heartily. 
 
 " But how is it that you are not tempted by the re- 
 ward ?" 
 
 " I am not — let that suffice. I don't want such dirty 
 money — I don't believe it would do me or anyone else any 
 good. You have done what was firmly believed to be an 
 impossibility, and I think that you fully deserve your 
 freedom, now that you have made your escape !" 
 
 " I wish my foes would think so !" said Jack, with a 
 sigh — "they do not, that is quite clear, or they would not 
 have offered such a large reward for my recapture !" 
 
 "Very true! They do not, that is certain; but still, I 
 think you fully deserve your freedom, and I will help you 
 all I can." 
 
 "Thanks — thanks!" said Jack, who was completely 
 overpowered when he found how friendly-disposed the 
 man was to him. 
 
 " Thanks — thanks ! You have indeed the power to 
 perform a service for me, the value of which is quite 
 beyond calculation !" 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it!" 
 
 " These fetters, which I have asked you to knock off for 
 me, are terrible impediments ; and, unless I am freed from 
 them, all my previous exertions will be thrown away." 
 
 "Say you so?" cried the blacksmith; "then you shall 
 soon be rid of those encumbrances — I will have the rivets 
 out in a twinkling."' 
 
 He turned round and searched in a box of tools. 
 
 Jack's heart beat high with joy and hope. 
 
 Indeed, he could hardly bring himself to believe in the 
 reality of the good fortune which had befallen him. 
 
 Having selected a punch that would answer his pur- 
 pose, the blacksmith approached Jack with a small hammer 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Put your foot up on to that anvil," he said, " and in 
 less time than you can say ' Jack Bobinson ' the rivet 
 will be out !" 
 
 Jack put his foot on the anvil, as requested. 
 
 He found the blacksmith had spoken truth. 
 
 In less time than he could have believed possible, the 
 fetters fell clanging to the ground. 
 
 How strange it seemed, that the task which had baffled 
 all Jack's efforts should be so easily performed ! 
 
 Having the proper tools made all the difference. 
 
 One leg having thus been freed from the heavy mass of
 
 BLUESKIN : A ROVAKCE. 
 
 635 
 
 iron-work which encumbered it, Jack hastened to place 
 the other on the anvil, in order that it inight be subjected 
 10 the same process. 
 
 When the punch was placed just upon the rivet, one 
 stroke with the hammer did the business. 
 
 Jack Sheppard was once more, in every sense of the 
 word, a free man. 
 
 " There you are !" said the blacksmith, as he threw the 
 hammer and punch on one side. 
 
 "Thanks — thanks!" cried Jack, in a voice which 
 showed how deeply grateful he felt. " Had I the wealth 
 of the world, I could not repay you for this service !" 
 
 _ " Pooh, pooh ! Say no more about that, I beg ! I never 
 did anything with greater willingness in all my life! 
 However, if you are inclined to show your grati- 
 tude " 
 
 " Tell me how I can testify the extent of my obligation, 
 and you will see how readily I shall do so !" 
 
 " Well, then, if you would not mind, I should like you 
 to give me a precise account of the manner in which you 
 made your escape." 
 
 " I will do so willingly !" replied Jack. 
 
 " I mean, I should like you to tell me all — even Tiow you 
 got out of your cell." 
 
 " In fact, all the particulars from first to last ?" 
 
 "Just so." 
 
 " H that is all, I will soon do that." 
 
 " I desire no more. I don't know how it is, but I have 
 always felt a very great degree of interest in all that you 
 have done. I like your brave spirit, and I would fain hear 
 all I can concerning you." 
 
 " I will do my best to satisfy you." 
 
 "Come, then — I have done work for to-night! My 
 house is hard by. Come with me, and then you car> tell 
 me your tale at your ease." 
 
 " But " said Jack, hesitatingly. 
 
 "Fear nothing!" said the blacksmith, who seemed to 
 guess his thought, and to comprehend the meaning of his 
 hesitation — "I am a single man, and live alone in my 
 house ; we shall be as much by ourselves there as we are 
 here." 
 
 " That is all right, then !" said Jack, " as you niusi be 
 aware, I am obliged to be very cautious." 
 
 " I know you are ; but come — all is well, believe ma i" 
 
 " I do not doubt you." 
 
 " I am glad to hear that ! It would have grieved me 
 greatly had you suspected me. This way, then !" 
 
 The blacksmith passed out of the shed, and closed the 
 door after him. 
 
 Jack followed close at his heels. 
 
 As soon as he had properly secured the door, Jack's new- 
 found friend led the way to a house which stood at no 
 great distance from the forge. 
 
 "Here we are!" said the smith, as soon as they arrived 
 at it — " this is my abode." 
 
 He opened the front door, as he spoke, with a key that he 
 took from his pocket. 
 
 Jack scarcely knew what to think of this adventure. 
 
 He was fully conscious of but one thing only, and that 
 was, that nis body was no longer weighed down by the 
 fetters. 
 
 Still, he could not think that tho blacksmith was insin- 
 cere, or that he contemplated any evil designs against 
 him. 
 
 He seemed to look upon Jack as a very singular speci- 
 men of the human race. 
 
 He was, too, without the temptation of delivering him 
 up for the sake of the reward, for he had sufficient to 
 satisfy all his wants. 
 
 Whatever suspicions might have lingered about Jack's 
 heart were completely dispelled when he entered the 
 house. 
 
 His conductor led him into a comfortable room, and 
 placed upon the table a repast such as Jack had not for a 
 length of time beheld. 
 
 Foaming home-brewed ale, too, was produced, and tho 
 blacksmith invited Jack to eat heartily. 
 
 During the meal, and for some time afterwards, Jack 
 occupied himself in relating at length the particulars of 
 his escape from Newgate. 
 
 It was easy to see that the blacksmith listened to every 
 detail with the utmost attention. 
 
 By his manner, it would seem as though he was treasuring 
 up every word in his memory. 
 
 The narrative was one well calculated to inspire interest 
 in almost any breast. 
 
 At length Jack finished. 
 
 " That is all !" he cried. 
 
 ''You havo paid me over and over," said the black- 
 smith, " for the service which I have rendered you ! I 
 would not have missed such a narrative for the world !" 
 
 " I am glad you are pleased with it." 
 
 " There is only one thing that I am surprised at." 
 
 " And what is that ?" 
 
 " Nay — nay ! It is only a thought of my own, and you 
 ought to know your own business best." 
 
 " What mean you?" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Come, speak out ! There is something which strikes 
 you as being singular." 
 
 "Just so!" 
 
 "I could tell as much by your manner." 
 
 " But never mind; it is no business of mine !" 
 
 " Speak out — do speak out !" said Jack, who had a 
 strange, undefined feeling at his heart that he was 
 about to hear something of a very startling character 
 indeed. "Speak out, I pray you ! What is it that seems 
 singular ?" 
 
 The blacksmith looked confused, as though ho was at a 
 loss to know how to put his thoughts into words. 
 
 He stammered and paused, but said nothing. 
 
 Jack's anxiety was unendurable. 
 
 " Speak !" he said. " Why do you hesitate ?" 
 
 "Well, then," said the blacksmith, desperately, "I was 
 afraid of offending you by speaking my thoughts too 
 plainly. I always thought you a brave fellow, and indeed 
 what you have said to-night is quite enoK^rh to prove it, 
 and yet I cannot help thinking it strange— o" 
 
 "What— what?" 
 
 " That you, being so bold, should only attemj^ to ac- 
 complish your own escape." 
 
 " My own escape ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 "I do not understand you !" said ^Jack, with a puzzled 
 air. 
 
 " I mean what I have said." 
 
 "But why should I trouble about effecting the escape of 
 anyone else ? I had quite enough to look after myself." 
 
 " Why did you not trouble about anything else ? That's 
 just what puzzles me." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " When your friend was in Newgate." 
 
 "My friend?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " In Newgate?" 
 
 " I have never heard of his escape. Is he free ?" 
 
 " Who do you mean ?" cried Jack, starting to his feet 
 with a suddenness and violence that rather alarmed the 
 blacksmith. " Who do you mean ?" he repeated eagerly, 
 almost fiercely. 
 
 " Why, your friend." 
 
 "What friend?" 
 
 " Blueskin." 
 
 "Blueskin?" 
 
 " Yes. But why all this excitement ?" 
 
 Jack sank down in his chair again. 
 
 He covered his face with his hands. 
 
 The revelation had come upon him with as much un- 
 expectedness as suddenness. 
 
 The reader will bear in mind that Jack Sheppard was 
 quite ignorant of the fact that Blueskin was a prisoner in 
 Newgate. 
 
 That piece of information had been most zealously kept 
 from him by his foes. 
 
 CHAPTEE CCCLXXXVII. 
 
 JACK SHEPPARD HITS UPON THE NOVEL EXPEDIENT OF 
 CUTTING DOWN TYBUKN TREE IN ORDER TO PREVENT 
 THE EXECUTION OF BLUESKIN. 
 
 For several moments, Jack Sheppard sat silent and motion- 
 less. 
 
 The blacksmith regarded him with the utmost surprise. 
 
 " Blueskin in prison !" Jack murmured at length. " Good 
 heavens, can it be possible ?" 
 
 " You were ignorant, then," said the blacksmith, " that 
 he was an inmate of Newgate at the same time as your- 
 self ?" 
 
 <•*-*
 
 MS 
 
 BLUESKIN : A KOMANCB. 
 
 Jack looked up. 
 
 "Nothing was further from my thoughts. I had no 
 idea of such a thing." 
 
 " That accounts for it, then !" 
 
 " Had I been aware of it, I would never have left iy ]f- 
 gate without him. I would have pulled down every 
 stone until I reached his cell, and would either have 
 escaped with him, or remained behind and kept him 
 company." 
 
 " Give me your hand," said the blacksmith, suddenly. 
 " I think all the better of you after that speech. I could 
 not imagine how you could be so selfish as to escape your- 
 self, and leave him behind/' 
 
 " As I tell you, I had no idea he was in Newgate, end 
 yet I wondered what was the reason he nev©5 communi- 
 cated with me." 
 
 " It was out of his power, Jack." 
 
 " It seems so." 
 
 " Then you know nothing of his trial ?*" 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 •• I can scarcely believe it possible." 
 
 " I know nothing, I assure you ; but do aot hesitate 
 another moment — tell me all you know. Perhaps even 
 bow I may not be too late to save him !" 
 
 " I cannot tell you a very great deaL" 
 
 " Where was ho captured ?" 
 
 " In Drury Lane." 
 
 " At the Black Lion ?" 
 
 « Yes." 
 
 " By whom ?" 
 
 "Jonathan Wild." 
 
 "Well, what next?" 
 
 " Blueskin was taken to Newgate, of course, and there 
 he remained until last Thursday, when he was brought up 
 at the bar of the Old Bailey to take his trial." 
 
 " What was the charge ?" 
 
 " Highway robbery !" 
 
 " And tho verdict ?" 
 
 " Guilty !" 
 
 " I thought so !" 
 
 " But stop ! I have not told you all — and yet, perhaps 
 you may know this." 
 
 "If it is connected with Blueskin's imprisonment, I 
 know nothing." 
 
 s ' Well, then, just when Bluesldn was about to be placed 
 in the dock, Jonathan Wild came up to him, and began 
 6aying aggravating things." 
 
 "Well— well?" 
 
 "And so, what do you think Blueskin did ?" 
 
 " I have no idea." 
 
 " Why, he snatched a knife from one of the turnkeys, 
 and cut Jonathan's throat with it !" 
 
 Jack shrieked with joy. 
 
 " Then he revenged himself ?" he said. 
 
 " He did." 
 
 " Is Jonathan dead ?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 " I thought not !" 
 
 " You thought not ?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Why ?" 
 
 " Because he was born to be hanged H* 
 
 The blacksmith stared at Jack in undisguised astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 Such a thought as that Jonathan Wild, the thief-taker, 
 who hanged other people, was born to be hanged himself, 
 had never entered his imagination. 
 
 " He had a narrow escape from Blueskin's knife, at any 
 rate," he 6aid — "a very narrow escape indeed ! From 
 what I heard last, it seems the chances of bis recovery are 
 very slight indeed !" 
 
 " He will get over it, never fear !" 
 
 He then questioned the blacksmith more particularly 
 with respect to what had befallen Blueskin, and ere long 
 he succeeded in obtaining from him all the information he 
 possessed. 
 
 At the end of the conversation, Jack Sheppard rose to 
 his feet. 
 
 He had heard that Blueskin's execution was fixed to 
 take place on the following morning. 
 
 The night was now far advanced. 
 
 What steps could he take — what course could he pur- 
 sue— to meet the current of events ? 
 
 Jle knew not. 
 
 " I must leave here at once," he said. " In a few hours 
 day will dawn, and I have more work before me than I shall 
 be able to accomplish, I am afraid ! U I fail, I will perish 
 with him ; but it will go hard with me if I don't save 
 him !" 
 
 The blacksmith was astonished. 
 
 Jack took him by the hand. 
 
 " Farewell !" he said. " Do not seek to detain me ! I 
 am more grateful to you than words or actions can ex- 
 press; but I must leave you! The ties of friendship 
 drag me away ! Farewell ! I shall never forget you !" 
 
 " Nor I you !" said the blacksmith, as he led Jack to the 
 door. 
 
 Here they parted from each other. 
 
 Jack bounded off through the darkness, and was out of 
 sight in a moment. 
 
 He went in the direction of London. 
 
 He ran on at full speed in a straight line, disregarding 
 every obstacle that lay before him in his path. 
 
 He paused at length. 
 
 But it was not until he was compelled to do so by sheer 
 exhaustion. 
 
 Panting for breath, he sank down upon the ground. 
 
 Ho had reached the outskirts of London. 
 
 And now, for the first time, ho began to ask himself 
 what he should do. 
 
 It was all very well for him to announce his intention of 
 saving Blueskin or perishing with him, but it was neces- 
 sary to have some plan for future operations. 
 
 What could he do ? 
 
 That was a question he over and over again asked him- 
 self. 
 
 But in vain. 
 
 He could find no reply. 
 
 " I cannot break into Newgate," he said, " and carry 
 him off by main force, that is quite clear ! How, then, am 
 I to prevent his execution to-morrow morning ? There is 
 no time to get together a number of people and attempt 
 a rescue, or I would tiy that. There is, indeed, no time 
 for anything !" 
 
 He rose to his feet. 
 
 " I must do my best. Let me see — where am I ? London 
 lies to the eastward. Why — stay ! It cannot be ; and 
 yet Yes, it is ! I am in Tyburn Fiolds !" 
 
 Jack had spoken truly. 
 
 All unconsciously he had directed his 6teps towards the 
 fatal spot where his comrade was doomed to suffer on the 
 morrow. 
 
 The hideous, triangular-shaped gallows was not in 
 sight, but some strange feeling sprang up in Jack's breast, 
 and impelled him to make his way towards it. 
 
 He walked on at a rapid pace. 
 
 Jack was tolerably familiar with the topography of the 
 environs of London, and he was able to direct his steps 
 to his destination unfalteringly. 
 
 At length he halted within a few yards of the gallows, 
 which reared itself sombre and spectral-like from the 
 ground. 
 
 The outlines of the dreadful instrument of death were 
 but dimly visible. 
 
 They assimilated too much in colour with the dark sky 
 behind. 
 
 But Jack made out the three upright posts and their 
 horizontal beams readily enough. 
 
 "Accursed tree!" he said, unconscious that he was 
 uttering his thoughts aloud — " accursed tree ! Fit emblem 
 of our boasted civilisation ! The law's last punishment ! 
 — the reward of crime! Your timbers groan for more 
 fruit ! The day is not far distant when Jonathan Wild 
 shall hang dangling from your beams ; then I shall be 
 satisfied ! Yes, I feel that if I can only see that day, I 
 shall end my days in peace ! By the evil machinations of 
 Jonathan Wild, my father perished here, and I have with 
 difficulty avoided the like fate. Shall Blueskin be another 
 victim ? Never ! Bather would I raze the whole struc- 
 ture to the earth ! Ha ! I have a thought !" 
 
 Jack broke off suddenly. 
 
 In the midst of his vain exclamations, a thought had 
 occurred to him. 
 
 " I have it !" he cried again. " I have it ! I know 
 what 1 will do, now ! I will cut down Tyburn Tree I 
 Ha, ha ! A good thought ! — a very good thought ! It 
 6hall be done. How astonished the sheriffs will be when 
 they arrive and find the gallows has disappeared! Hurrah I
 
 BMJB6KIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 037 
 
 I will do it, and then they will have some trouble in hang- 
 ing BIuesMn to-morrow, 1 lancy !" 
 
 it was a strange thought that. 
 
 It occurred to Jack by pure accident. 
 
 As he said, there would indeed bo some difficulty in 
 carrying the sentence of the law into effect. 
 
 What permanent advantages might arise from it he did 
 not consider so deeply as he ought to have done. 
 
 The idea of razing the gallows to the ground tickled his 
 fancy. 
 
 It was an achievement which would give him great plea- 
 sure to perform. 
 
 But he had not the tools requisite for such a purpose. 
 
 He resolved to set about obtaining them at once. 
 
 An axe was indeed all he wanted. 
 
 He glanced around him. 
 
 The darkness was most intense. 
 
 The spot upon which he stood was about as lonely and 
 desolate a one as any round London. 
 
 How different it is now ! 
 
 Tyburn Fields have been built upon. 
 
 They have been covered ■ with palatial residences, and 
 now Tyburnia, as the district is called, is one of the most 
 fashionable in all London. 
 
 Upon the veiy identical spot where the old gallows 
 stood, a noble mansion has been erected. 
 
 Those curious in such matters may desire to look upon 
 it 
 
 For the satisfaction of these we give the information. 
 
 It is No. 49, Connaught Square. 
 
 This square is near the junction of the Edgwaro Eoad 
 and Oxford Street. 
 
 It is situated, indeed, between St. Georgo's burying- 
 ground and the first-named thoroughfare. 
 
 The circumstance that this house stands upon the exact 
 spot where Tyburn Tree formerly was, is specified in the 
 lease. 
 
 However, all this is from our story. 
 
 When Jack Sheppard looked around him, he could not 
 see the least trace of a human habitation. 
 
 Where was he to obtain what he required ? 
 
 After a moment's hesitation, Jack started off at a run 
 towards London. 
 
 He knew he was more likely to meet with houses in that 
 direction than any other. 
 
 After going some distance, Jack perceived before him a 
 small house, or rather cottage. 
 
 He slackened his speed to reconnoitre. 
 
 " Why," ho said, " I know this place ! I know it quite 
 well ! Why, this is Peter Sansom's, who used to work for 
 my old master, John Eoots ! Why, in time past I have 
 often come here, and I know every trick and turn about 
 the place ! I shall get what I want, for certain !" 
 
 This was a fortunate thing for Jack. 
 
 Until he came in sight of the house, he had forgotten all 
 about it. 
 
 Now all rushed back to his mind. 
 
 Jack recollected that at the back of the house was a shed 
 in which Peter Sansom was wont to work. 
 
 Towards this shed Jack made his way with stealthy 
 steps. 
 
 Knowing the ground so intimately as he did, was a 
 groat advantage to him. 
 
 He reached the door of the shed, and opened it without 
 difficulty and without creating the least alarm. 
 
 He entered. 
 
 The darkness of the place was profound, but he had no 
 means of procuring a hght, and so he was compelled to 
 grope about in order to find what he wanted. 
 
 After much delay he succeeded. 
 
 His hand grasped an axe which was in a basket con- 
 taining a number of other carpenter's tools of all shapes 
 and sizes. 
 
 Jack seized the axe and took his departure. 
 
 With all speed he made his way back to Tyburn. • 
 
 The night, which had all along been dark and threaten- 
 ing, now changed to rain. 
 
 This materially added to the discomfort of Jack's 
 position. 
 
 Still he heeded it not. 
 
 Delighted to have the means of levelling the hated 
 gallows to the ground, Jack hastened onward. 
 
 He was, on the ■whole, rather pleased with the rain than 
 otherwise, and hoped that it would continue. 
 
 He was aware that it was no unusual occurrence, 
 on the night before the day fixed for the execution of a 
 criminal of more than usual importance, for people to 
 take their stand near Tyburn Tree, and wait patiently the 
 hour of execution. 
 
 They considered the good position they would thus se- 
 cure, ample compensation for long hours of waiting. 
 
 This rain, however, Jack thought would have the effect 
 of keeping off such loiterers. 
 
 It seemed as though Jack was likely to have his wish 
 gratified. 
 
 The rain came down with unceasing violence. 
 
 The heavens were covered with a dense black cloud, in 
 which not a single rift appeared. 
 
 At length Tyburn Tree appeared once more in sight. 
 
 With a cry of satisfaction on his lips, Jack approached. 
 
 But he instantly became aware of the imprudence of 
 such a proceeding as this, and he at once halted to recon- 
 noitre. 
 
 Not a single porson, however, appeared in sight. 
 
 Feeling assured of this, ho stepped forward confidently. 
 
 Beaching at length the foot of the gallows, Jack placed 
 himself in the requisite attitude for his purpose. 
 
 Then raising the axe above his head with both arms, he 
 brought it down again with full force. 
 
 The keen edge of the heavy instrument sank deeply 
 into the wood. 
 
 So deeply, indeed, that Jack had some trouble in ex- 
 tricating it again. 
 
 This told him that he would have to set about his task 
 in a worlimanly manner, or he would not be able to accom- 
 plish it. 
 
 Not without great trouble he succeeded in extricating 
 the axe. 
 
 Having done this, however, he proceeded to use it pro- 
 perly. 
 
 Jack was well skilled in the use of the weapon, and 
 knew just how it ought to be employed. 
 
 He worked away with right good will. 
 
 Crash — crash — the axe descended upon the wood, and 
 each time a huge splinter would fly off. 
 
 At length, Jack severed one of the upright posts 
 
 Then, and not until then, did he pause. 
 
 He wiped the perspiration from his face. 
 
 But he did not rest long. 
 
 He went to work again with renewed vigour, for what 
 he had already accomplished gave him great encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 The second post was cut through in less time than the 
 first. 
 
 The whole framework now leaned on one side in a very 
 alarming manner. 
 
 Indeed, the entire strain was upon the one remaining 
 post, which would make it all the easier to cut through. 
 
 Jack felt this, for at the first stroke of the axe the wood 
 gaped open. 
 
 Another and another blow followed, and then, with a 
 terrific crash, the wholo framework of timber came to the 
 ground. 
 
 " It is done !" cried Jack, as the gallows toppled over — 
 "it is done ! Tyburn Tree exists no longer !" _ 
 
 Three stumps, each about a foot in height, alone 
 remained to mark the spot where it had stood. 
 
 Not content with the destruction he had already caused, 
 Jack set to work to demolish the fragments that lay upon 
 the ground. 
 
 He did not cease until he was compelled, by sheer 
 exhaustion, to do so. 
 
 Then all that remained of Tyburn Tree was a confused 
 heap of timber. 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXVIII. 
 
 RELATES HOW BLUESKJN STILL FURTHER REVENGED HIM- 
 SELF UPON THE GOVERNOR OF NEWGATE. 
 
 It seems very strange to leave Jack Sheppard standing on 
 that piece of ground so lately occupied by Tyburn Tree, 
 but we are forced to do so, while we direct our attention to 
 Blueskin, whose situation seems desperate indeed. 
 
 We left him last in cell No. 18, in which miserable place 
 Mr. Noakes had caused him a De placed. 
 
 This was truly a jost wretched dungeon. 
 
 It was enti ely destitute of every comfort.
 
 638 
 
 BLUESKIN : X ROMANCE. 
 
 That every precaution was taken to secure Blueskin, the 
 reader may make himself assured. 
 
 When left to himself, he quickly relapsed into the same 
 state of despair as had characterised him before his trial. 
 
 The excitement of recent events wore off. 
 
 Still, he could not help feeling no inconsiderable amount 
 of satisfaction at the thought that he had partially re- 
 venged himself upon three of his foes. 
 
 We need not tell the reader that Blueskin was quite 
 ignorant of the fact that Jack Sheppard had made his 
 escape. . . 
 
 Had he possessed such knowledge, it is probable be 
 would have aroused himself from the lethargic state into 
 which he had fallen. 
 
 So far, however, from thinking Jack Sheppard was at 
 liberty, he pictured him an inmate of a cell the very 
 counterpart of his own. 
 
 It was while thinking upon his companion, and upon 
 poor Edgworth Bess, that he felt some portion of his old 
 spirits return to him. 
 
 He raised his head, which had up to that moment been 
 bent towards the ground, and as he did so, he said : 
 
 "Why should I despair? It is folly! I ought rather to 
 rejoice ! The success which I have already met with 
 ought to have the effect of spurring me on to make further 
 efforts. To be sure, the success was very partial, and yet 
 it was once very near being complete. I will despair no 
 longer. I will shake off this heaviness which has oppressed 
 me so terribly. I will bo myself !" 
 
 As he uttered these words, he folded his arms across his 
 chest. 
 
 " Why not ?" he continued, after a pause. " Jack Shep- 
 pard has made his escape from a Newgate cell, and why 
 Bhould not I ? There is no reason. I will do so. And, a 
 good thought. I will find Jack's dungeon, and rescue 
 him, and we will both leave Newgate together ! Then, 
 when that much is accomplished, it will be hard indeed if 
 we cannot complete the discomfiture of Jonathan Wild, 
 now that he is in such a precarious condition ! I will 
 escape, and that at once !" 
 
 Blueskin seemed quite another man, now that he had 
 made up his mind to pursue a certain course of action. 
 
 He felt himself become suddenly endowed with a fresh 
 accession of strength. 
 
 He rose to his feet, though it was not without difficulty 
 that he did so. 
 
 He was loaded with heavy fetters, but he was not 
 chained to the dungeon wall, probably because there was 
 no staple convenient for the purpose. 
 
 He had, therefore, the liberty of pacing his cell accorded 
 to him. 
 
 It was doubtless thought, however, that he would 
 not avail himself of this exercise much, owing to the 
 weight of iron he would be compelled to carry about with 
 him. 
 
 However, Blueskin rose to his feet, and managed to get 
 as far as the door of the cell. 
 
 This he proceeded to examine. 
 
 But the result of that examination was by no means 
 satisfactory, if one may judge by the manner in which ho 
 Bhook his head after inspecting the fastenings by which it 
 was secured. 
 
 "Force will never take me out of this dungeon, that is 
 
 rtain," he said, as he retraced his steps to his stone bench. 
 
 He sat down upon it with evident satisfaction, for the 
 tveight of the fetters was terribly fatiguing. 
 
 " I must use stratagem," he added. " I must devise some 
 cunning means of maiding my escape. How shall it be 
 done ? Let me think — let me think !" 
 
 Blueskin buried his face in his hands, and give him- 
 self up to profound thought. 
 
 How long he sat thus he knew not, but it was for a 
 long while. 
 
 He was aroused at length by hearing the sound of 
 footsteps. 
 
 Then he became aware that it was night, and he was 
 conscious also that all his deliberations had not led him to 
 any practical result. 
 
 He listened to the footsteps mechanically. 
 
 One person was approaching. 
 
 " Doubtless the turnkey making his last roun"Y* Blue- 
 skin muttered carelessly. 
 
 But while he spoke the words, a thought darted into 
 his mind. 
 
 A thought, too, of a most startling nature. 
 
 It almost took his breath away. 
 
 It was a bold and desperate means of making his escape 
 from his dungeon which had occurred to him. 
 
 But, desperate as it was, he resolved to carry it out, or 
 at all events to attempt to do so. 
 
 He rose instantly to his feet, and crept across the dun- 
 geon. 
 
 Then he paused and listened. 
 
 The footsteps came nearer, and at length halted before 
 the door. 
 
 Blueskin's eyes glistened, and he prepared himself to 
 carry out his intention. 
 
 A key was inserted in the lock of the door. 
 
 Blueskin placed himself in such a position that the door 
 on opening would conceal him from the view of the per- 
 son who stood upon the threshold. 
 
 The key turned in the lock. 
 
 The door grated open. 
 
 A man appeared upon the threshold. 
 
 He carried in one hand a bunch of keys, and in the 
 other a lantern. 
 
 He cast the broad ray of light which came through the 
 lens into the cell. 
 
 He waved it up and down. 
 
 " Hallo !" he cried, in a voice of mingled astonishment 
 and alarm, for he could not see Blueskin standing behind 
 the door. " Where are you gone ? No larks, you know ! 
 You had better come out!" 
 
 Blueskin made no reply to these words, and the in- 
 dividual, who uttered them with a disagreeable conviction 
 that something unpleasant had happened, stepped cau- 
 tiously into the cell. 
 
 He continued to wave his lantern about, but its beams 
 fell only on the dark and slimy walls. 
 
 Blueskin let the man advance until he got beyond the 
 door. 
 
 Then, springing forward, he struck him a blow with the 
 full force of his arm. 
 
 The turnkey dropped to the floor as if shot. 
 
 He never uttered a word. 
 
 The keys fell jingling from his grasp, and the lantern 
 rolled into a distant corner. 
 
 Blueskin gave the door a kick and closed it. 
 
 His first act was to pick up the lantern. 
 
 The next, the keys. 
 
 Then, going up to the prostrate form, ho proceeded to 
 ascertain the extent of his injuries. 
 
 Whoever it might be, he lay very still. 
 
 A beam from the lantern fell upon his countenance. 
 
 Blueskin uttered an exclamation of amazement and de- 
 Hght. 
 
 The man who lay at his feet was no other than Mr. 
 Noakes. 
 
 Yes, it was indeed the unfortunate Governor, who had 
 come to pay Blueskin a last visit before retiring to rest. 
 
 He had just come from Jack Sheppard's cell, whom he 
 left all safe. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was alone, and this happened to be a very 
 fortunate circumstance for Blueskin. 
 
 The blow which Mr. Noakes had received had wholly 
 deprived him of consciousness. 
 
 " Here is luck !" said Blueskin. " This is more than I 
 hoped for and expected. I shall be free, and doubtless all 
 the doors will open at my approach. I am revenged 
 upon this rash, meddling fool. Now for the key of my 
 fetters !" 
 
 Blueskin stooped down, and began to search the 
 Governor's pockets. 
 
 He was not long in finding what he sought. 
 
 His hand trembled as he possessed himself of the little 
 instrument which would enable him to get free from his 
 fetters. 
 
 Putting the lantern down upon the ground, he set to 
 work. 
 
 The locks yielded easily. 
 
 In a few moments he was quite free from his irons. 
 
 Mr. Noakes still lay perfectly motionless. 
 "Now, what shall be my next step?" asked Blueskin. 
 "I will take these keys and this lantern. The first will 
 doubtless enable me to open all the doors that may inter- 
 vene between me and Jack's cell, and the second will show 
 me the way. But, in the meantime, how shall I dispose of 
 the Governor?"
 
 BLUfiSKlH: A ROMANCE. 
 
 C3fl 
 
 Blueskin considered a moment, and then lie said : 
 
 " Bravo — I have it ! I will try how ho likes being made 
 a portable ironmonger's shop of. I will put my fetters on 
 him, and lock him up in the dungeon ! Ha, ha !" 
 
 This plan so tickled Blueskin's fancy that ho could not 
 control his laughter. 
 
 He set to work, however, in good earnest to execute his 
 intention, for he was well aware of the imprudence of 
 wasting time. 
 
 Accordingly he clasped the fetters about the insensible 
 Governor's limbs, and carefully secured them with the 
 key. 
 
 When this was done, Blueskin took up the lantern and 
 the bunch of keys. 
 
 For a short time he and the Governor had changed 
 places. 
 
 Mr. Noakes, however, began to give signs of returning 
 animation, and Blueskin favoured him with a kick to 
 assist him in recovering himself. 
 
 "Wh — what has happened?" gasped the Governor. 
 
 " It's all right, old cock !" said Blueskin, with a chuckle. 
 "How do you like your jewellery ? We have changed 
 places, old fellow. Now you are the prisoner, and I am 
 the Governor. Good-bye to you !" 
 
 And before Mr. Noakes could recover himself, Blueskin 
 left the cell. 
 
 He closed the door carefully after him, and locked it. 
 
 Then with a confident step he took his way along the 
 corridor. 
 
 It was not long, however, before he found himself com- 
 pletely at fault. 
 
 " Which way ought I to take now, I wonder ?" he asked 
 bimself. 
 
 But the question was a perfectly useless one. 
 
 It was quite clear that he had nothing but the merest 
 ehance to guide him. 
 
 In spite of this, however, as he had a large bunch of 
 keys in his hand, he did not despair ^of being able to dis- 
 cover Jack's cell. 
 
 He unlocked a door in the corridor, and passing through 
 it, ascended a long flight of stone steps immediately 
 beyond. 
 
 At the top was another door, and through this he also 
 made his way by the aid of the keys. 
 
 He now entered another corridor, at the extremity of 
 which was another door. 
 
 Blueskin was a long time finding a key that would fit 
 this lock, but at length he succeeded. 
 
 The door swung back upon its hinges. 
 
 No sooner, however, had he done so than he wished he 
 had failed entering. 
 
 He attempted to close the door again, but he was too 
 late. 
 
 In his ignorance of the interior arrangement of the 
 prison, Blueskin had unconsciously made his way in a 
 direct line to the turnkeys' room. 
 
 The door he had opened with so much difficulty led 
 into it. 
 
 The turnkeys, some four or five in number, were sitting, 
 in a half-sleeping state, upon the benches placed around 
 the walls. 
 
 Their attention, however, had been attracted by the 
 bungling manner in which Blueskin tried the keys ; they 
 all turned their eyes to the doorway, wondering who was 
 about to enter. 
 
 Can the reader conceive their astonishment when the 
 door, swinging back, disclosed the figure of Blueskin 
 standing upon the threshold, with a lantern in one hand 
 and a bunch of keys in the other ? 
 
 A cry of rage and surprise burst from their lips, and, 
 springing to their feet, they rushed after him. 
 
 Blueskin, stunned and bewildered by this mishap, felt 
 it only natural to turn round and flee. 
 
 He did so. 
 
 The turnkeys followed at his heels like a rack of 
 hounds. 
 | The upnmr was prodigious. 
 
 Away they went at headlong speed an< i su °k an excit- 
 ing race was surely never before run through the corridors 
 of Newgate. 
 
 But the prisoner was not able to go far without meeting 
 ■with a door. 
 
 In the prison, all doors are kept secured. 
 
 Blueskin tried to unlock this one. 
 
 From sheer desperation, he thrust the key into the 
 lock. 
 
 It fitted. 
 
 He turneu it round. 
 
 It yielded. 
 
 The door flew open. 
 
 But the delay which had of necessity taken place had 
 enabled Blueskin's pursuers to come close up to him. 
 
 He felt one of the turnkeys touch him on the shoulder, 
 but at the same moment he gave a bound forward, and got 
 out of his reach. 
 
 On they came, however, with unabated speed, and then 
 Blueskin found his progress barred by a second door. 
 
 He was now obliged to give up. 
 
 He could not hope to be so fortunate as to hit upon the 
 right key twice running by mere chance alone. 
 
 However, he made the attempt. 
 
 But the key was too small. 
 
 He pulled it out and tried another. 
 
 This was too large. 
 
 He turned round with a curse, for his enemies were 
 
 They outnumbered him by far, and, hopeless as his 
 position was, he determined not to yield without a des- 
 perate struggle. 
 
 He whirled the heavy bunch of keys round his head— 
 for it was the only thing in the shape of a weapon that 
 he had got— and struck some heavy blows. 
 
 But he was almost instantly surrounded and over- 
 powered. 
 
 They seized his arms, and held them tightly. 
 
 He was powerless, and was at last compelled to suc- 
 cumb ; but it was not until he perceived that he had done 
 some execution on his foes. 
 
 A great outcry was now made for Mr. Noakes, bu. the 
 Governor could not of course be found. 
 
 A suspicion as to what was the real state of affairs darted 
 into a turnkey's mind, and he communicated his thoughts 
 to his companions without delay. 
 
 He had seen the Governor on his way to Blueskin s cell, 
 carrying a lantern and a bunch of keys. 
 
 Now the prisoner had appeared with those articles. 
 
 They resolved, at all hazards, to make their way at once 
 to cell No. 18. 
 
 They did so. 
 
 Ere they reached the door, however, a dull, muffled 
 sound came upon their ears. 
 
 It grew louder as they approached. 
 
 The Governor was hammering away at the door m the 
 most reckless manne* - imaginable. 
 
 At the same time, he cried : 
 
 " Let me out— let me out ! D— n you all, I say ! Let 
 me out — let me out !" 
 
 CHAPTER CCCLXXXIX. 
 
 THE HOUR FIXED FOR THE EXECUTION OF BLUESKTN AT 
 LENGTH ARRIVES. 
 
 Although the words the Governor spoke came very 
 faintly on the ears of those outside, they were uttered at 
 the very top of his voice. 
 
 It was the thickness of the cell door that deadened the 
 sound. 
 
 The turnkeys for a momeut or two did nothing but stare 
 at each other. 
 
 They were perfectly aghast. 
 
 Despite the reaction which he could not help feeling at 
 this frustration of his capital scheme, Blueskin was unable 
 to forbear a smile of exultation when he thought of the 
 astonishment the turnkeys would exhibit when they saw 
 the state of the Governor. 
 
 " Let me out !" roared the Governor, who continued 
 without the least intermission, his attack upon the door. 
 " Let me out ! Ten thousand curses !" 
 
 "My eye, Bill," said one of the turnkeys, "ain't he a 
 going it?" 
 
 "Bather!" said Bill. 
 
 " Crikey ! if this here ain't a lark, and no gammon ; but. 
 the best thing we can do is to unlock the door, and let him 
 out." 
 
 " And then won't he be like a rampageant lion ? 
 
 " I guess he will ! However, here goes !" 
 
 With these words, the turnkey inserted the key in DM 
 lock.
 
 eio 
 
 BLUESKIN: A ROMANCE. 
 
 There was a sharp click, and the door flew open. 
 Then such a howl came upon the ears of the turnkeys 
 that they started back in horror. 
 
 They could not believe that a human being had given 
 utterance to it. 
 
 The dismal rattling and clanking of chains followed. 
 So great was the fright of the turnkeys at the inhuman 
 sound, that they would probably have started off, had not 
 the voice of the Governor recalled them to themselves 
 
 They recognised the tones now. 
 
 " Come here, villains ! — come here, I say ! Gome nere 
 and release me, or, damme, I will discharge you all !" 
 
 Terrified at this threat, which they doubted not Mr. 
 Noakes would carry out, the trembling turnkeys rushed 
 into the celL 
 
 There, to their dismay and astonishment, they found 
 the Governor with all Blueskin's fetters fastened upon 
 him. 
 
 How long they would have stood by in gaping wonder- 
 ment is hard to say, had not Mr. Noakes commanded 
 them to set about releasing him. 
 
 Thus ordered, they obeyed, and in a few momenta the 
 Governor was free. 
 
 Never had that functionary been in such an infuriated 
 state as he was at that moment. 
 
 lie was perfectly beside himself with rago 
 
 Uttering a snarling kind of howl, he sprang towards 
 B'ueskin, the perpetrator of this outrage. 
 
 He clenched his list, and struck our old friend tvo blows 
 in the face which quite staggered him. 
 
 " fake that!" said the Governor — "take that! The 
 only consolation I have is, that you will be hanged it a 
 day or two !" 
 
 -Blueskin was ill prepared to defend himself from this or 
 any other attack that might be made upon him. 
 
 His arms and hands were held securely by two turn- 
 keys, so that he could neither ward off the blows nor r;«.orn 
 them. 
 
 He was completely at the Governor's mercy. 
 
 It was very cowardly of Mr. Noakes, but he was des- 
 tined not to escape without receiving some punishment. 
 
 Finding he could not use his fists, Blueskin bethought 
 himself of his feet. 
 
 He lifted up his foot, then, and dealt the Governor such 
 a kick that he dropped down on the floor of the cell at 
 once, and then rolled over and over, uttering sharp 
 screams of pain. 
 
 "Take that yourself!" cried Blueskin. "In a general 
 way, I don't approve of kicking, but then, how else is a 
 man to defend himself from a coward who attacks him 
 while his bands are held ?" 
 
 The turnkeys could with difficulty conceal the pleasure 
 which the Governor's discomfiture gave them. 
 
 No one liked him. 
 
 In Newgate he reigned supreme, and, as might be ex- 
 pected from such a man, he converted himself into a per- 
 fect tyrant. 
 
 At some time or other something had occurred to all 
 those present which caused them to conceive a grudge 
 against him, and consequently all felt delighted when this 
 piece of retribution overtook him. 
 
 Nevertheless, having an eye to future consequences, 
 they hypocritically sprang forward to his assistance, and, 
 after a good deal of trouble, they managed to raise him to 
 his feet. 
 
 The kick he had received was a very severe one, and 
 Blueskin fully intended it should be. 
 
 " I hope you like it !" he said. " Perhaps it will be a 
 lesson to you another time, my friend I" 
 
 "Curse you!" shrieked Mr. Noakes, "but I will be re- 
 venged for this ! Load him with fetters, and then come to 
 ine for further instructions ! ' 
 
 At a signal to those who sxipported him, he was led 
 from the cell to his own apartments in the prison. 
 
 All the way he went, he continued to utter such hoiri- 
 ble curses that, used as the turnkeys were to that sort of 
 thing, they could not help shuddering at their feaiful 
 character. 
 
 Mr. Noakes was considerably damaged. 
 
 He had far from recovered from the attack which Blue- 
 skin had made upon him in the dock, and then he had 
 been knocked down on the floor of the cell, and, to crown 
 all, he had had a kick that had materially disarranged 
 t> Ji intori_al economy. 
 
 However, he was taken to his own apartments, aud 
 then he gave strict instructions that, in order to prevent 
 all possibility of another escape taking place, two turnkeys 
 were to sit continually in the ceil along with the prisoner. 
 These turnkeys were to be relieved every two hours. 
 By adopting this measure, the Governor thought he 
 should be able to make sure of him. 
 
 Under this conviction, he, with many groans, got into 
 bed, and fell off into a profound slumber. 
 
 From this he was aroused by the dreadful tolling of the 
 alarm-bell, for the reader must not forget to remember 
 that the events we have just been describing took place 
 on the night when Jack Sheppard made his escape. 
 
 In describing the events which followed the discovery of 
 Jack's disappearance, we stated that while the turnkeys 
 were pausing in wonder before the door of the chapei, 
 they heard a dreadful sound, immediately after which the 
 Governor made his appearance. 
 
 Having the key to all that had taken place, the reader 
 will no longer wonder at the violent and extraordinary 
 conduct of Mr. Noakes. 
 
 It now remains, in order to take up all the broken 
 threads of our narrative, to relate what took place in 
 Newgate after the despatchment of the officers after Jack, 
 up to the moment when Jack Sheppard performed the 
 ■unheard-of feat of cutting down the gallows at Tyburn. 
 
 The Gorernor's instructions as to two turnkeys being 
 left in the cell along with Blueskin were fully carried 
 out. 
 
 It was not at all a bad idea that, and it is one which is 
 found to work very well at the present day, when all 
 prisoners are kept under continual surveillance. 
 
 The plan is found to be far more efficient than trusting 
 to stone walls, bolts, bars, and fetters. 
 
 When the two men came and sat down in the cell with 
 him, Blueskin at once gave up all hope of ever making his 
 escape. 
 
 He was convinced that it was impossible for him to 
 succeed. 
 
 The only chance he had was, that he might be able to 
 win the turnkeys over to his interests, but that hope was 
 so frail a one as to afford no support whatever. 
 
 He was also quite unable to get over his disappoint- 
 ment. 
 
 It was doubly aggravating to think that he should have 
 got out of his cell so cleverly and easily as he did, and 
 then to be recaptured through his own incaution. 
 
 He folded his arms and leant back on his seat in sullen 
 silence. 
 
 In this manner the remainder of the night was passed 
 until in the morning Blueskin and his two companions 
 were startled by the ominous clanging of the alarm-bell. 
 All three were amazed. 
 
 " An escape, after all, by jingo !" cried one of the turn- 
 keys. 
 
 " I wonder who on earth it can be ?" 
 " I'll be shot if I know !" 
 
 " 111 lay two to one it's Jack Sheppard, if it's anyone !" 
 " So would I !" 
 
 A pause of anxious expectation now ensued. 
 The turnkeys could tell an unusual commotion was 
 going on in the prison, and they wished they could go 
 and see what had happened. 
 
 Duty, however, compelled them to remain where they 
 were. 
 After a time the excitement seemed to subside. 
 Blueskin's curiosity was greatly aroused, and during the 
 day he managed — though in a fragmentary fashion — to 
 obtain an account of Jack's escape. 
 
 He felt thankful that his comrade.had succeeded in get- 
 ting off, and his spirits rose again, for now that Jack was 
 at liberty, he knew all that could be done towards effect- 
 ing his escape would be done 
 
 He was told, however, that Jack Sheppard had, by the 
 order of Mr. Noakes and Jonathan Wild, been kept in 
 entire ignorance of the fact that he (Blueskin) was a 
 prisoner in Newgate as well as himself. 
 
 " That accounts for all, then !" muttered Blueskin. "I 
 thought it was rather strange he made no effort to make 
 me the companion of his flight ; but now all is explained. 
 He will not be at liberty very long before he learns where 
 I am." 
 
 After making this reflection, Blueskin became more 
 content