What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House.
Jack was scarcely concealed when the door opened, and the two persons of
whom he had caught a glimpse below entered the room. What was his
astonishment to recognise in the few words they uttered the voices of
Kneebone and Winifred! The latter was apparently in great distress, and
the former seemed to be using his best efforts to relieve her anxiety.
"How very fortunate it is," he observed, "that I happened to call upon
Mr. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. It was quite an
unexpected pleasure to meet you and your worthy father."
"Pray cease these compliments," returned Winifred, "and, if you have any
communication to make, do not delay it. You told me just now that you
wished to speak a few words to me in private, concerning Thames Darrell,
and for that purpose I have left my father below with Mr. Bird and have
come hither. What have you got to say?"
"Too much," replied Kneebone, shaking his head; "sadly too much."
"Do not needlessly alarm me, I beseech you," replied Winifred. "Whatever
your intelligence may be I will strive to bear it. But do not awaken my
apprehension, unless you have good cause for so doing.--What do you know
of Thames?--Where is he?"
"Don't agitate yourself, dearest girl," rejoined the woollen-draper; "or
I shall never be able to commence my relation."
"I am calm--perfectly calm," replied Winifred. "Pray, make no further
mystery; but tell me all without reserve."
"Since you require it, I must obey," replied Kneebone; "but prepare
yourself for a terrible shock."
"For mercy's sake, go on!" cried Winifred.
"At all hazards then then you shall know the truth," replied the
woollen-draper, in a tone of affected solicitude,--"but are you really
prepared?"
"Quite--quite!" replied Winifred. "This suspense is worse than torture."
"I am almost afraid to utter it," said Kneebone; "but Thames Darrell is
murdered."
"Murdered!" ejaculated Winifred.
"Basely and inhumanly murdered, by Jack Sheppard and Blueskin,"
continued Kneebone.
"Oh! no--no--no," cried Winifred, "I cannot believe it. You must be
misinformed, Mr. Kneebone. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked,
but he would never lift his hand against his friend,--of that I am
assured."
"Generous girl!" cried Jack from behind the skreen.
"I have proofs to the contrary," replied Kneebone. "The murder was
committed after the robbery of my house by Sheppard and his accomplices.
I did not choose to mention my knowledge of this fact to your worthy
father; but you may rely on its correctness."
"You were right not to mention it to him," rejoined Winifred, "for he is
in such a state of distress at the mysterious disappearance of Mrs.
Sheppard, that I fear any further anxiety might prove fatal to him. And
yet I know not--for the object of his visit here to-night was to serve
Jack, who, if your statement is correct, which I cannot however for a
moment believe, does not deserve his assistance."
"You may rest assured he does not," rejoined Kneebone, emphatically,
"but I am at a loss to understand in what way your father proposes to
assist him."
"Mr. Bird, the turner, who is an old friend of our's, has some
acquaintance with the turnkeys of Newgate," replied Winifred, "and by
his means my father hoped to convey some implements to Jack, by which he
might effect another escape."
"I see," remarked Kneebone. "This must be prevented," he added to
himself.
"Heaven grant you may have been wrongly informed with respect to
Thames!" exclaimed Winifred; "but, I beseech you, on no account to
mention what you have told me to my poor father. He is not in a state of
mind to bear it."
"Rely on me," rejoined Kneebone. "One word before we part, adorable
girl--only one," he continued, detaining her. "I would not venture to
renew my suit while Thames lived, because I well knew your affections
were fixed upon him. But now that this bar is removed, I trust I may,
without impropriety, urge it."
"No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. "Is this a season to speak on
such a subject?"
"Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable
violence of my passion must plead my excuse. My whole life shall be
devoted to you, beloved girl. And when you reflect how much at heart
your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you
will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me."
"Sir!" exclaimed Winifred.
"You will make me the happiest of mankind," cried the woollen-draper,
falling on his knees, and seizing her hand, which he devoured with
kisses.
"Let me go," cried Winifred. "I disbelieve the whole story you have told
me."
"By Heaven!" cried Kneebone, with increasing fervour, "it is true--as
true as my affection for you."
"I do not doubt it," retorted Winifred, scornfully; "because I attach
credit neither to one nor the other. If Thames _is_ murdered, you are
his assassin. Let me go, Sir."
The woollen-draper made no answer, but hastily starting up, bolted the
door.
"What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm.
"Nothing more than to obtain a favourable answer to my suit," replied
Kneebone.
"This is not the way to obtain it," said Winifred, endeavouring to reach
the door.
"You shall not go, adorable girl," cried Kneebone, catching her in his
arms, "till you have answered me. You must--you shall be mine."
"Never," replied Winifred. "Release me instantly, or I will call my
father."
"Do so," replied Kneebone; "but remember the door is locked."
"Monster!" cried Winifred. "Help! help!"
"You call in vain," returned Kneebone.
"Not so," replied Jack, throwing down the skreen. "Release her
instantly, villain!"
Both Winifred and her suitor started at this sudden apparition. Jack,
whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale
from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living
person.
"In the devil's name, is that you, Jack!" ejaculated Kneebone.
"It is," replied Sheppard. "You have uttered a wilful and deliberate
falsehood in asserting that I have murdered Thames, for whom you well
know I would lay down my life. Retract your words instantly, or take the
consequences."
"What should I retract, villain?" cried the woollen-draper, who at the
sound of Jack's voice had regained his confidence. "To the best of my
belief, Thames Darrell has been murdered by you."
"A lie!" exclaimed Jack in a terrible tone. And before Kneebone could
draw his sword, he felled him to the ground with the iron bar.
"You have killed him," cried Winifred in alarm.
"No," answered Jack, approaching her, "though, if I had done so, he
would have merited his fate. You do not believe his statement?"
"I do not," replied Winifred. "I could not believe you capable of so
foul a deed. But oh! by what wonderful chance have you come hither so
seasonably?"
"I have just escaped from Newgate," replied Jack; "and am more than
repaid for the severe toil I have undergone, in being able to save you.
But tell me," he added with much anxiety, "has nothing been heard of
Thames since the night of my former escape?"
"Nothing whatever," answered Winifred. "He left Dollis Hill at ten
o'clock on that night, and has not since returned. My father has made
every possible inquiry, and offered large rewards; but has not been able
to discover the slightest trace of him. His suspicions at first fell
upon you. But he has since acquitted you of any share in it."
"Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed Jack.
"He has been indefatigable in his search," continued Winifred, "and has
even journeyed to Manchester. But though he visited Sir Rowland
Trenchard's seat, Ashton Hall, he could gain no tidings of him, or of
his uncle, Sir Rowland, who, it seems, has left the country."
"Never to return," remarked Jack, gloomily. "Before to-morrow morning I
will ascertain what has become of Thames, or perish in the attempt. And
now tell me what has happened to my poor mother?"
"Ever since your last capture, and Thames's mysterious disappearance,
she has been dreadfully ill," replied Winifred; "so ill, that each day
was expected to be her last. She has also been afflicted with occasional
returns of her terrible malady. On Tuesday night, she was rather better,
and I had left her for a short time, as I thought, asleep on the sofa in
the little parlour of which she is so fond--"
"Well," exclaimed Jack.
"On my return, I found the window open, and the room vacant. She was
gone."
"Did you discover any trace of footsteps?" inquired Jack eagerly.
"There were some marks near the window; but whether recently made or not
could not be ascertained," replied Winifred.
"Oh God!" exclaimed Jack, in a tone of the bitterest anguish. "My worst
fears are realized. She is in Wild's power."
"I ought to add," continued Winifred, "that one of her shoes was picked
up in the garden, and that prints of her feet were discovered along the
soft mould; whether made in flying from any one, or from rushing forth
in distracted terror, it is impossible to say. My father thought the
latter. He has had the whole country searched; but hitherto without
success."
"I know _where_ she will be found, and _how_," rejoined Jack with a
shudder.
"I have something further to tell you," pursued Winifred. "Shortly
after your last visit to Dollis Hill, my father was one evening waylaid
by a man, who informed him that he had something to communicate
respecting Thames, and had a large sum of money, and some important
documents to deliver to him, which would be given up, provided he would
undertake to procure your liberation."
"It was Blueskin," observed Jack.
"So my father thought," replied Winifred; "and he therefore instantly
fired upon him. But though the shot took effect, as was evident from the
stains on the ground, the villain escaped."
"Your father did right," replied Jack, with some bitterness. "But if he
had not fired that shot, he might have saved Thames, and possessed
himself of papers which would have established his birth, and his right
to the estates of the Trenchard family."
"Would you have had him spare my mother's murderer?" cried Winifred.
"Ho, no," replied Jack. "And yet--but it is only part of the chain of
ill-luck that seems wound around me. Listen to me, Winifred."
And he hastily related the occurrences in Jonathan Wild's house.
The account of the discovery of Sir Rowland's murder filled Winifred
with alarm; but when she learnt what had befallen Thames--how he had
been stricken down by the thief-taker's bludgeon, and left for dead, she
uttered a piercing scream, fainted, and would have fallen, if Jack had
not caught her in his arms.
Jack had well-nigh fallen too. The idea that he held in his arms the
girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still
retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. Gazing
at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss
upon her lips. It was the first--and the last!
At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried, and the voice of Mr.
Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance.
"What's the matter?" he cried. "I thought I heard a scream. Why is the
door fastened? Open it directly!"
"Are you alone?" asked Jack, mimicking the voice of Kneebone.
"What for?" demanded Wood. "Open the door, I say, or I'll burst it
open."
Carefully depositing Winifred on a sofa, Jack then extinguished the
light, and, as he unfastened the door, crept behind it. In rushed Mr.
Wood, with a candle in his hand, which Jack instantly blew out, and
darted down stairs. He upset some one--probably Mr. Bird,--who was
rushing up stairs, alarmed by Mr. Wood's cries: but, regardless of this,
he darted along a passage, gained the shop, and passed through an open
door into the street.
And thus he was once more free, having effected one of the most
wonderful escapes ever planned or accomplished.