The Disguise.
In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had
escaped,--for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled
district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out
in fertile fields in the direction of Islington--and about a quarter of
a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. This
spot, which still retains its name, acquired the appellation from an old
crone who lived there, and who, in addition to a very equivocal
character for honesty, enjoyed the reputation of being a witch. Without
inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may
be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack
Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable
of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's
care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and
fulfilled his design--for, however rash or hazardous a project might be,
if once conceived, Jack always executed it,--of visiting Jonathan Wild
at his house in the Old Bailey.
It was precisely two o'clock on the morning of Whit-monday, the 25th of
May 1724, when the remarkable escape before detailed was completed: and,
though it wanted full two hours to daybreak, the glimmer of a waning
moon prevented it from being totally dark. Casting a hasty glance, as he
was about to turn an angle of the wall, at the great gates and upper
windows of the prison, and perceiving no symptoms of pursuit, Jack
proceeded towards the hovel at a very deliberate pace, carefully
assisting his female companion over every obstacle in the road, and
bearing her in his arms when, as was more than once the case, she sank
from fright and exhaustion. In this way he crossed one or two public
gardens and a bowling-green,--the neighbourhood of Clerkenwell then
abounded in such places of amusement,--passed the noted Ducking Pond,
where Black Mary had been frequently immersed; and, striking off to the
left across the fields, arrived in a few minutes at his destination.
Descending the hollow, or rather excavation,--for it was an old disused
clay-pit, at the bottom of which the cottage was situated,--he speedily
succeeded in arousing the ancient sibyl, and having committed Edgeworth
Bess to her care, with a promise of an abundant reward in case she
watched diligently over her safety, and attended to her comforts till
his return,--to all which Black Mary readily agreed,--he departed with a
heart lightened of half its load.
Jack's first object was to seek out Blueskin, whom he had no doubt he
should find at the New Mint, at Wapping, for the Old Mint no longer
afforded a secure retreat to the robber; and, with this view, he
made the best of his way along a bye-lane leading towards
Hockley-in-the-Hole. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the
tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had
scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when
a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his
brows, rode by at full speed. Another horseman followed quickly at the
heels of the first; but just as he passed the spot where Jack stood, his
steed missed its footing, and fell. Either ignorant of the accident, or
heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even
turning his head.
Conceiving the opportunity too favourable to be lost, Jack sprang
suddenly over the hedge, and before the man, who was floundering on the
ground with one foot in the stirrup, could extricate himself from his
embarrassing position, secured his pistols, which he drew from the
holsters, and held them to his head. The fellow swore lustily, in a
voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and
vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword.
"Dog!" thundered Sheppard, putting the muzzle of the pistol so close to
the janizary's ear, that the touch of the cold iron made him start,
"don't you know me?"
"Blood and thunder!" exclaimed Quilt, opening his eyes with
astonishment. "It can't be Captain Sheppard!"
"It _is_," replied Jack; "and you had better have met the devil on your
road than me. Do you remember what I said when you took me at the Mint
four days ago? I told you my turn would come. It _has_ come,--and sooner
than you expected."
"So I find, Captain," rejoined Quilt, submissively; "but you're too
noble-hearted to take advantage of my situation. Besides, I acted for
others, and not for myself."
"I know it," replied Sheppard, "and therefore I spare your life."
"I was sure you wouldn't injure me, Captain," remarked Quilt, in a
wheedling tone, while he felt about for his sword; "you're far too brave
to strike a fallen man."
"Ah! traitor!" cried Jack, who had noticed the movement; "make such
another attempt, and it shall cost you your life." So saying, he
unbuckled the belt to which the janizary's hanger was attached, and
fastened it to his own girdle.
"And now," he continued, sternly, "was it your master who has just
ridden by?"
"No," answered Quilt, sullenly.
"Who, then?" demanded Jack. "Speak, or I fire!"
"Well, if you _will_ have it, it's Sir Rowland Trenchard."
"Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. "What are you doing
with him?"
"It's a long story, Captain, and I've no breath to tell it,--unless you
choose to release me," rejoined Quilt.
"Get up, then," said Jack, freeing his foot from the stirrup.
"Now--begin."
Quilt, however, seemed unwilling to speak.
"I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," continued Sheppard, again
raising the pistol.
"Well, since you force me to betray my master's secrets," replied Quilt,
sullenly, "I've ridden express to Manchester to deliver a message to Sir
Rowland."
"Respecting Thames Darrell?" observed Jack.
"Why, how the devil did you happen to guess that?" cried the janizary.
"No matter," replied Sheppard. "I'm glad to find I'm right. You informed
Sir Rowland that Thames Darrell was returned?"
"Exactly so," replied Quilt, "and he instantly decided upon returning to
London with me. We've ridden post all the way, and I'm horribly tired,
or you wouldn't have mastered me so easily."
"Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had suddenly occurred.
"Now, Sir, I'll trouble you for your coat. I've left mine on the spikes
of the New Prison, and must borrow yours."
"Why, surely you can't be in earnest, Captain. You wouldn't rob Mr.
Wild's chief janizary?"
"I'd rob Mr. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack. "Come, off with
it, sirrah, or I'll blow out your brains, in the first place, and strip
you afterwards."
"Well, rather than you should commit so great a crime, Captain, here it
is," replied Quilt, handing him the garment in question. "Anything
else?"
"Your waistcoat."
"'Zounds! Captain, I shall get my death of cold. I was in hopes you'd be
content with my hat and wig."
"I shall require them as well," rejoined Sheppard; "and your boots."
"My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large.
Besides, how am I to ride home without them?"
"Don't distress yourself," returned Jack, "you shall walk. Now," he
added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, "help me on with them."
Quilt knelt down, as if he meant to comply; but, watching his
opportunity, he made a sudden grasp at Sheppard's leg, with the
intention of overthrowing him.
But Jack was too nimble for him. Striking out his foot, he knocked half
a dozen teeth down the janizary's throat; and, seconding the kick with a
blow on the head from the butt-end of the pistol, stretched him,
senseless and bleeding on the ground.
"Like master like man," observed Jack as he rolled the inanimate body to
the side of the road. "From Jonathan Wild's confidential servant what
could be expected but treachery?"
With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold's clothes,
pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his
features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his
knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. On searching the
coat, he found, amongst other matters, a mask, a key, and a pocket-book.
The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put
by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of
vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker. He then mounted
the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly
browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side,
rode off. He had not proceeded far when he encountered Sir Rowland, who,
having missed his attendant, had returned to look after him.
"What has delayed you?" demanded the knight impatiently.
"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection--for he
was a capital mimic,--the tones of Quilt Arnold. "It was some time
before I could get him to move."
"I fancied I heard voices," rejoined Sir Rowland.
"So did I," answered Jack; "we had better move on. This is a noted place
for highwaymen."
"I thought you told me that the rascal who has so long been the terror
of the town--Jack Sheppard--was in custody."
"So he is," returned Jack; "but there's no saying how long he may remain
so. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty,
Sir Rowland."
Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. The pair then
descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn,
passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of
Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before
Jonathan Wild's door. Aware of Quilt Arnold's mode of proceeding, Jack
instantly dismounted, and, instead of knocking, opened the door with the
pass-key. The porter instantly made his appearance, and Sheppard ordered
him to take care of the horses.
"Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt?" asked the man as he
hastened to assist Sir Rowland to dismount.
"Oh! we've lost no time, as you perceive," replied Jack. "Is the
governor within?"
"Yes; you'll find him in the audience-chamber. He has got Blueskin with
him."
"Ah! indeed! what's he doing here?" inquired Jack.
"Come to buy off Jack Sheppard, I suppose," replied the fellow. "But it
won't do. Mr. Wild has made up his mind, and, when that's the case, all
the persuasion on earth won't turn him. Jack will be tried to-morrow;
and, as sure as my name's Obadiah Lemon he'll take up his quarters at
the King's-Head," pointing to Newgate, "over the way."
"Well, we shall see," replied Jack. "Look to the horses, Obadiah. This
way, Sir Rowland."
As familiar as Quilt Arnold himself with every part of Wild's mysterious
abode, as well as with the ways of its inmates, Jack, without a
moment's hesitation, took up a lamp which was burning in the hall, and
led his companion up the great stone stairs. Arrived at the
audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the
door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of
the person he represented,--"Sir Rowland Trenchard."
Jonathan, who was engaged in conversation with Blueskin, instantly
arose, and bowed with cringing ceremoniousness to the knight. The latter
haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted,
into a chair.
"You've arrived sooner than I expected, Sir Rowland," observed the
thief-taker. "Lost no time on the road--eh!--I didn't expect you till
to-morrow at the earliest. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this
person.--You've your answer, Blueskin," he added, pushing that
individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; "it's
useless to urge the matter further. Jack is registered in the Black
Book."
"One word before I go," urged Blueskin.
"Not a syllable," replied Wild. "If you talk as long as an Old Bailey
counsel, you'll not alter my determination."
"Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other.
"Humph!" exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. "And you would surrender
yourself--eh?"
"I'll surrender myself at once, if you'll engage to bring him off; and
you'll get the reward from old Wood. It's two hundred pounds. Recollect
that."
"Faithful fellow!" murmured Jack. "I forgive him his disobedience."
"Will you do it?" persisted Blueskin.
"No," replied Wild; "and I've only listened to your absurd proposal to
see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you."
"I _do_ love him," cried Blueskin, "and that's the long and short of it.
I've taught him all he can do; and there isn't his fellow, and never
will be again. I've seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like
him. If you hang Jack Sheppard, you'll cut off the flower o' the
purfession. But I'll not believe it of you. It's all very well to read
him a lesson, and teach him obedience; but you've gone far enough for
that."
"Not quite," rejoined the thief-taker, significantly.
"Well," growled Blueskin, "you've had my offer."
"And you my warning," retorted Wild. "Good night!"
"Blueskin," whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed
him, "wait without."
"Power o' mercy!" cried Blueskin starting.
"What's the matter?" demanded Jonathan, harshly.
"Nothin'--nothin'," returned Blueskin; "only I thought--"
"You saw the hangman, no doubt," said Jack. "Take courage, man; it is
only Quilt Arnold. Come, make yourself scarce. Don't you see Mr. Wild's
busy." And then he added, in an under tone, "Conceal yourself outside,
and be within call."
Blueskin nodded, and left the room. Jack affected to close the door, but
left it slightly ajar.
"What did you say to him?" inquired Jonathan, suspiciously.
"I advised him not to trouble you farther about Jack Sheppard," answered
the supposed janizary.
"He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. "I shall be obliged
to hang him to keep him company. And now, Sir Rowland," he continued,
turning to the knight, "to our own concerns. It's a long time since we
met, eight years and more. I hope you've enjoyed your health. 'Slife!
you are wonderfully altered. I should scarcely have known you."
The knight was indeed greatly changed. Though not much passed the middle
term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. His frame was
wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard,
and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was
perfectly white. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever,
and his glances retained their accustomed fire.
"I did not come hither to consult you as to the state of my health,
Sir," he observed, displeased by Jonathan's allusion to the alteration
in his appearance.
"True," replied Wild. "You were no doubt surprised by the unlooked-for
intelligence I sent you of your nephew's return?"
"Was it _unlooked-for_ on your part?" demanded the knight,
distrustfully.
"On my soul, yes," rejoined Jonathan. "I should as soon have expected
the bones of Tom Sheppard to reunite themselves and walk out of that
case, as Thames Darrell to return. The skipper, Van Galgebrok, affirmed
to me,--nay, gave me the additional testimony of two of his crew,--that
he was thrown overboard. But it appears he was picked up by fishermen,
and carried to France, where he has remained ever since, and where it
would have been well for him if he had remained altogether."
"Have you seen him?" asked Trenchard.
"I have," replied Wild; "and nothing but the evidence of my senses would
have made me believe he was living, after the positive assurance I
received to the contrary. He is at present with Mr. Wood,--the person
whom you may remember adopted him,--at Dollis Hill, near Willesden; and
it's a singular but fortunate circumstance, so far as we are concerned,
that Mrs. Wood chanced to be murdered by Blueskin, the fellow who just
left the room, on the very night of his return, as it has thrown the
house into such confusion, and so distracted them, that he has had no
time as yet for hostile movements."
"And what course do you propose to pursue in reference to him?" asked
Sir Rowland.
"My plan is a very simple one," rejoined the thief-taker smiling
bitterly. "I would treat him as you treated his father, Sir Rowland."
"Murder him!" cried Trenchard shuddering.
"Ay, murder him, if you like the term," returned Wild. "I should call it
putting him out of the way. But no matter how you phrase it, the end is
the same."
"I cannot consent to it," replied Sir Rowland firmly. "Since the sea
has spared him, I will spare him. It is in vain to struggle against the
arm of fate. I will shed no more blood."
"And perish upon the gibbet," rejoined Jonathan contemptuously.
"Flight is still left me," replied Trenchard. "I can escape to France."
"And do you think I'll allow you to depart," cried Jonathan in a
menacing tone, "and compromise _my_ safety? No, no. We are linked
together in this matter, and must go through with it. You cannot--shall
not retreat."
"Death and hell!" cried Sir Rowland, rising and drawing his sword; "do
you think you can shackle my free will, villain?"
"In this particular instance I do, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan,
calmly, "because you are wholly in my power. But be patient, I am your
fast friend. Thames Darrell MUST die. Our mutual safety requires it.
Leave the means to me."
"More blood! more blood!" cried Trenchard, passing his hand with agony
across his brow. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my
couch--the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!--the
mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!--And
must another be added to their number--their son! Horror!--let me be
spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet--my name tarnished--my
escutcheon blotted by the hangman!--No, I cannot submit to that."
"I should think not," observed Jonathan, who had some practice in the
knight's moods, and knew how to humour him. "It's a miserable weakness
to be afraid of bloodshed.--The general who gives an order for wholesale
carnage never sleeps a wink the less soundly for the midnight groans of
his victims, and we should deride him as a coward if he did. And life is
much the same, whether taken in battle, on the couch, or by the
road-side. Besides those whom I've slain with my own hands, I've
brought upwards of thirty persons to the gallows. Most of their relics
are in yonder cases; but I don't remember that any of them have
disturbed my rest. The mode of destruction makes no difference. It's
precisely the same thing to me to bid my janizaries cut Thames Darrell's
throat, as to order Jack Sheppard's execution."
As Jonathan said this, Jack's hand involuntarily sought a pistol.
"But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which
the remark had placed him,--"to the point. On the terms that procured
your liberation from Newgate, I will free you from this new danger."
"Those terms were a third of my estate," observed Trenchard bitterly.
"What of that," rejoined Jonathan. "Any price was better than your head.
If Thames Darrell escapes, you will lose both life and property."
"True, true," replied the knight, with an agonized look; "there is no
alternative."
"None whatever," rejoined Wild. "Is it a bargain?"
"Take half of my estate--take all--my life, if you will--I am weary of
it!" cried Trenchard passionately.
"No," replied Jonathan, "I'll not take you at your word, as regards the
latter proposition. We shall both, I hope, live to enjoy our
shares--long after Thames Darrell is forgotten--ha! ha! A third of your
estate I accept. And as these things should always be treated as matters
of business, I'll just draw up a memorandum of our arrangement."
And, as he spoke, he took up a sheet of paper, and hastily traced a few
lines upon it.
"Sign this," he said, pushing the document towards Sir Rowland.
The knight mechanically complied with his request.
"Enough!" cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the memorandum. "And now, in
return for your liberality, I'll inform you of a secret with which it is
important you should be acquainted."
"A secret!" exclaimed Trenchard. "Concerning whom?"
"Mrs. Sheppard," replied Jonathan, mysteriously.
"Mrs. Sheppard!" echoed Jack, surprised out of his caution.
"Ah!" exclaimed Wild, looking angrily towards his supposed attendant.
"I beg pardon, Sir," replied Jack, with the accent and manner of the
janizary; "I was betrayed into the exclamation by my surprise that
anything in which Sir Rowland Trenchard was interested could have
reference to so humble a person as Mrs. Sheppard."
"Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in
words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. "My servants, like Eastern mutes,
must have eyes, and ears,--and _hands_, if need be,--but no tongues. You
understand me, sirrah?"
"Perfectly," replied Jack. "I'm dumb."
"Your secret?" demanded Trenchard, impatiently.
"I need not remind you, Sir Rowland," replied Wild, "that you had two
sisters--Aliva and Constance."
"Both are dead," observed the knight, gloomily.
"Not so;" answered Wild. "Constance is yet living."
"Constance alive? Impossible!" ejaculated Trenchard.
"I've proofs to the contrary," replied Jonathan.
"If this is the case, where is she?"
"In Bedlam," replied the thief-taker, with a Satanic grin.
"Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed the knight, upon whom a light seemed
suddenly to break. "You mentioned Mrs. Sheppard. What has she to with
Constance Trenchard?"
"Mrs. Sheppard _is_ Constance Trenchard," replied Jonathan, maliciously.
Here Jack Sheppard was unable to repress an exclamation of astonishment.
"Again," cried Jonathan, sternly: "beware!"
"What!" vociferated Trenchard. "My sister the wife of one condemned
felon! the parent of another! It cannot be."
"It _is_ so, nevertheless," replied Wild. "Stolen by a gipsy when
scarcely five years old, Constance Trenchard, after various
vicissitudes, was carried to London, where she lived in great poverty,
with the dregs of society. It is useless to trace out her miserable
career; though I can easily do so if you require it. To preserve
herself, however, from destitution, or what she considered worse, she
wedded a journeyman carpenter, named Sheppard."
"Alas! that one so highly born should submit to such a degradation?"
groaned the knight.
"I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan. "In the first
place, she had no knowledge of her birth; and, consequently, no false
pride to get rid of. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and
assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea. Distress like
hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. With
the same inducements we should all do the same thing. Poor girl! she was
beautiful once; so beautiful as to make _me_, who care little for the
allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her."
Jack Sheppard again sought his pistol, and was only withheld from
levelling it at the thief-taker's head, by the hope that he might gather
some further information respecting his mother. And he had good reason
before long to congratulate himself on his forbearance.
"What proof have you of the truth of this story?" inquired Trenchard.
"This," replied Jonathan, taking a paper from a portfolio, and handing
it to the knight, "this written evidence, signed by Martha Cooper, the
gipsy, by whom the girl was stolen, and who was afterwards executed for
a similar crime. It is attested, you will observe, by the Reverend Mr.
Purney, the present ordinary of Newgate."
"I am acquainted with Mr. Purney's hand-writing," said Jack, advancing,
"and can at once decide whether this is a forgery or not."
"Look at it, then," said Wild, giving him the portfolio.
"It's the ordinary's signature, undoubtedly," replied Jack.
And as he gave back the portfolio to Sir Rowland he contrived,
unobserved, to slip the precious document into his sleeve, and from
thence into his pocket.
"And, does any of our bright blood flow in the veins of a ruffianly
housebreaker?" cried Trenchard, with a look of bewilderment. "I'll not
believe it."
"Others may, if you won't," muttered Jack, retiring. "Thank Heaven! I'm
not basely born."
"Now, mark me," said Jonathan, "and you'll find I don't do things by
halves. By your father, Sir Montacute Trenchard's will, you are
aware,--and, therefore, I need not repeat it, except for the special
purpose I have in view,--you are aware, I say, that, by this will, in
case your sister Aliva, died without issue, or, on the death of such
issue, the property reverts to Constance and _her_ issue."
"I hear," said Sir Rowland, moodily.
"And I," muttered Jack.
"Thames Darrell once destroyed," pursued Jonathan. "Constance--or,
rather, Mrs. Sheppard--becomes entitled to the estates; which
eventually--provided he escaped the gallows--would descend to her son."
"Ha!" exclaimed Jack, drawing in his breath, and leaning forward with
intense curiosity.
"Well, Sir?" gasped Sir Rowland.
"But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs.
Sheppard, as I told you, is in Bedlam, an incurable maniac; while her
son is in the New Prison, whence he will only be removed to Newgate and
Tyburn."
"So you think," muttered Jack, between his ground teeth.
"To make your mind perfectly easy on the score of Mrs. Sheppard,"
continued Jonathan; "after we've disposed of Thames Darrell, I'll visit
her in Bedlam; and, as I understand I form one of her chief terrors,
I'll give her such a fright that I'll engage she shan't long survive
it."
"Devil!" muttered Jack, again grasping his pistol. But, feeling secure
of vengeance, he determined to abide his time.
"And now, having got rid of the minor obstacles," said Jonathan, "I'll
submit a plan for the removal of the main difficulty. Thames Darrell,
I've said, is at Mr. Wood's at Dollis Hill, wholly unsuspicious of any
designs against him, and, in fact, entirely ignorant of your being
acquainted with his return, or even of his existence. In this state, it
will be easy to draw him into a snare. To-morrow night--or rather
to-night, for we are fast verging on another day--I propose to lure him
out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible;
and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. To make sure work
of it, I'll superintend the job myself. Before midnight, I'll answer for
it, it shall be done. My janizaries shall go with me. You hear what I
say, Quilt?" he added, looking at Jack.
"I do," replied Sheppard.
"Abraham Mendez will like the task,--for he has entertained a hatred to
the memory of Thames Darrell ever since he received the wound in the
head, when the two lads attempted to break out of St. Giles's
round-house. I've despatched him to the New Prison. But I expect him
back every minute."
"The New Prison!" exclaimed Sheppard. "What is he gone there for?"
"With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner," replied
Wild, with a cunning smile. "Jack Sheppard had a visitor, I understand,
yesterday, and may make an attempt to escape. It's as well to be on the
safe side."
"It is," replied Jack.
At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the
stairs. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate
encounter.
"There is another mystery I would have solved," said Trenchard,
addressing Wild; "you have told me much, but not enough."
"What do you require further?" asked Jonathan.
"The name and rank of Thames Darrell's father," said the knight.
"Another time," replied the thief-taker, evasively.
"I will have it now," rejoined Trenchard, "or our agreement is void."
"You cannot help yourself, Sir Rowland," replied Jonathan,
contemptuously.
"Indeed!" replied the knight, drawing his sword, "the secret, villain,
or I will force it from you."
Before Wild could make any reply, the door was thrown violently open,
and Abraham Mendez rushed into the room, with a face of the utmost
consternation.
"He hash eshcaped!" cried the Jew.
"Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan.
"Yesh," replied Abraham. "I vent to de New Prish'n, and on wishitin' his
shel vid de turnkey, vot should ve find but de shains on de ground, de
vinder broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone."
"Damnation!" cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage.
"I'd rather have given a thousand pounds than this had happened. But he
might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of
Clerkenwell Bridewell. Did you search the yard, fool?"
"Ve did," replied Abraham; "and found his fine goat and ruffles torn to
shtrips on de shpikes near de creat cate. It vosh plain he vent dat
vay."
Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations.
While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold
rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed.
"'Sblood! what's this!" cried Jonathan, in the utmost surprise. "Quilt
Arnold, is that you?"
"It is, Sir," sputtered the janizary. "I've been robbed, maltreated, and
nearly murdered by Jack Sheppard."
"By Jack Sheppard!" exclaimed the thief-taker.
"Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance upon him," said Quilt.
"I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild.
"You needn't go far to do that," returned Quilt; "there he stands."
"Ay, here I am," said Jack, throwing off his hat and wig, and marching
towards the group, amongst whom there was a general movement of surprise
at his audacity. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew."
"Back, villain!" said the knight, haughtily. "I disown you. The whole
story of your relationship is a fabrication."
"Time will show," replied Jack with equal haughtiness. "But, however, it
may turn out, I disown _you_."
"Well, Jack," said Jonathan, who had looked at him with surprise not
unmixed with admiration, "you are a bold and clever fellow, I must
allow. Were I not Jonathan Wild, I'd be Jack Sheppard. I'm almost sorry
I've sworn to hang you. But, it can't be helped. I'm a slave to my word.
Were I to let you go, you'd say I feared you. Besides, you've secrets
which must not be disclosed. Nab and Quilt to the door! Jack, you are my
prisoner."
"And you flatter yourself you can detain me?" laughed Jack.
"At least I'll try," replied Jonathan, sarcastically. "You must be a
cleverer lad than even _I_ take you for, if you get out of this place."
"What ho! Blueskin!" shouted Jack.
"Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. And the door was
suddenly thrown open, and the two janizaries felled to the ground by the
strong arm of the stalwart robber.
"Your boast, you see, was a little premature, Mr. Wild," said Sheppard.
"Adieu, my worthy uncle. Fortunately, I've secured the proof of my
birth."
"Confusion!" thundered Wild. "Close the doors below! Loose the dogs!
Curses! they don't hear me! I'll ring the alarm-bell." And he raised his
arm with the intention of executing his purpose, when a ball from Jack's
pistol passed through the back of his hand, shattering the limb. "Aha!
my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound;
"now I'll show you no quarter." And, with the uninjured hand he drew a
pistol, which he fired, but without effect, at Jack.
"Fly, Captain, fly!" vociferated Blueskin; "I shan't be able to keep
these devils down. Fly! they shall knock me on the head--curse
'em!--before they shall touch you."
"Come along!" cried Jack, darting through the door. "The key's on the
outside--quick! quick!"
Instantly alive to this chance, Blueskin broke away. Two shots were
fired at him by Jonathan; one of which passed through his hat, and the
other through the fleshy part of his arm; but he made good his retreat.
The door was closed--locked,--and the pair were heard descending the
stairs.
"Hell's curses!" roared Jonathan. "They'll escape. Not a moment is to be
lost."
So saying, he took hold of a ring in the floor, and disclosed a flight
of steps, down which he hurried, followed by the janizaries. This means
of communication instantly brought them to the lobby. But Jack and his
companion were already gone.
Jonathan threw open the street-door. Upon the pavement near the court
lay the porter, who had been prostrated by a blow from the butt-end of a
pistol. The man, who was just able to move, pointed towards
Giltspur-street. Jonathan looked in that direction, and beheld the
fugitives riding off in triumph.
"To-night it is _their_ turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded
fingers with a handkerchief. "To-morrow it will be _mine_."