The Collected Novels. William Harrison Ainsworth

for worlds!” exclaimed both ladies together.

      “Farewell!” cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street.

      “What shall we do, Poll?” hesitated Edgeworth Bess.

      “Go in, to be sure, simpleton,” replied Mrs. Maggot, “and bring off all we can. I know where everything valuable is kept. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he’s pleased or not?”

      At this moment, a whistle was heard.

      “Coming!” cried Blueskin, who was still lingering with Rachel. “The Captain’s in such a desperate hurry, that there’s no time for love-making. Adieu! my charmer. You’ll find those young ladies extremely agreeable acquaintances. Adieu!”

      And, snatching a hasty kiss, he darted after Jack.

      The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened — Shotbolt’s note having been received just before. All the turnkeys were assembled. Ireton and Langley had returned from a second unsuccessful search; Marvel had come thither to bid good-night to Mrs. Spurling; Austin had never quitted his post. The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. Behind her stood Caliban, chuckling to himself, and grinning from ear to ear.

      “Well, who’d have thought of Shotbolt beating us all in this way!” said Ireton. “I’m sorry for old Newgate that another jail should have it. It’s infernally provoking.”

      “Infernally provoking!” echoed Langley.

      “Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me,” growled Austin. “I’ve lost my wager.”

      “Twenty pounds,” rejoined Mrs. Spurling. “I witnessed the bet.”

      “Here he is!” cried Ireton, as the knocking was heard without. “Get ready the irons, Caliban.”

      “Wait a bit, massa,” replied the grinning negro — “lilly bit — see all right fust.”

      By this time, the chair had been brought into the Lodge.

      “You’ve got him?” demanded Ireton.

      “Safe inside,” replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; “we’ve run all the way.”

      “Where’s Mr. Shotbolt?” asked Austin.

      “The gen’l’man’ll be here directly. He was detained. T’ other gen’l’man said the letter ‘ud explain all.”

      “Detained!” echoed Marvel. “That’s odd. But, let’s see the prisoner.”

      The chair was then opened.

      “Shotbolt! by —” cried Austin, as the captive was dragged forth. “I’ve won, after all.”

      Exclamations of wonder burst from all. Mrs. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. Caliban absolutely crowed with delight.

      “Hear the letter,” said Ireton, breaking the seal. “’This is the way in which I will serve all who attempt to apprehend me.’ It is signed JACK SHEPPARD.”

      “And, so Jack Sheppard has sent back Shotbolt in this pickle,” said Langley.

      “So it appears,” replied Marvel. “Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. The poor fellow’s half smothered.”

      “I guess what share you’ve had in this,” whispered Austin to Mrs. Spurling.

      “Never mind,” replied the tapstress. “You’ve won your wager.”

      Half an hour after this occurrence, when it had been sufficiently laughed at and discussed; when the wager had been settled, and the chairman dismissed with the remaining three guineas, which Shotbolt was compelled to pay; Ireton arose, and signified his intention of stepping across the street to inform Mr. Wild of the circumstance.

      “As it’s getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed,” he observed; “I’ll take the pass-key, and let myself in. Mr. Wild is sure to be up. He never retires to rest till daybreak — if at all. Come with me, Langley, and bring the lantern.”

      CHAPTER 14.

       HOW JACK SHEPPARD WAS AGAIN CAPTURED.

       Table of Contents

      Jack Sheppard, after whistling to Blueskin, hurried down a short thoroughfare leading from Wych Street to the back of Saint Clement’s Church, where he found Thames Darrell, who advanced to meet him.

      “I was just going,” said Thames. “When I parted from you at Mr. Kneebone’s door, you begged me to await your return here, assuring me you would not detain me five minutes. Instead of which, more than half an hour has elapsed.”

      “You won’t complain of the delay when I tell you what I’ve done,” answered Jack. “I’ve obtained two packets, containing letters from Sir Rowland Trenchard, which I’ve no doubt will establish your title to the estates. Take them, and may they prove as serviceable to you as I desire.”

      “Jack,” replied Thames, greatly moved, “I wish I could devise any means of brightening your own dark prospects.”

      “That’s impossible,” replied Jack. “I am utterly lost.”

      “Not utterly,” rejoined the other.

      “Utterly,” reiterated Jack, gloomily — “as regards all I hold dear. Listen to me, Thames. I’m about to leave this country for ever. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board. Blueskin goes with me. The faithful fellow will never leave me.”

      “Never, while I’ve breath in my body, Captain,” rejoined Blueskin, who had joined them. “England or France, London or Paris, it’s all one to me, so I’ve you to command me.”

      “Stand out of earshot,” rejoined his leader. “I’ll call you when you’re wanted.”

      And Blueskin withdrew.

      “I cannot but approve the course you are about to take, Jack,” said Thames, “though on some accounts I regret it. In after years you can return to your own country — to your friends.”

      “Never,” replied Sheppard bitterly. “My friends need not fear my return. They shall hear of me no more. Under another name — not my own hateful one — I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. But I will never — never return.”

      “I will not attempt to combat your resolution, Jack,” returned Thames, after a pause. “But I dread the effect your departure may have upon your poor mother. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it.”

      “I wish you hadn’t mentioned her,” said Jack, in a broken voice, while his whole frame shook with emotion. “What I do is for the best, and I can only hope she may have strength to bear the separation. You must say farewell to her, for I cannot. I don’t ask you to supply my place — for that is, perhaps, impossible. But, be like a son to her.”

      “Do not doubt me,” replied Thames, warmly pressing his hand.

      “And now, I’ve one further request,” faltered Jack; “though I scarcely know how to make it. It is to set me right with Winifred. Do not let her think worse of me than I deserve — or even so ill. Tell her, that more than once, when about to commit some desperate offence, I have been restrained by her gentle image. If hopeless love for her made me a robber, it has also saved me many a crime. Will you tell her that?”

      “I will,” replied