The Pursuit.
After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a
last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his
beloved and ill-fated mother. It was scarcely out of sight, when two
persons, whom, he instantly recognised as Jonathan and Abraham Mendez,
turned the corner of the street, and made it evident from their shouts,
that they likewise perceived him.
Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted
the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to
ascend the neighbouring hill. By the time he had reached St. Andrew's
Church, his pursuers had gained the bridge, and the attention of such
passengers as crowded the streets was attracted towards him by their
vociferations. Amongst others, the watchman whose box was placed against
the churchyard wall, near the entrance to Shoe-lane, rushed out and
sprung his rattle, which was immediately answered by another rattle from
Holborn-bars.
Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the
left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived.
His course had been observed by the watchman, who directed Wild which
way to take.
"It is Jack Sheppard, the noted housebreaker," cried Jonathan, at the
top of his sonorous voice. "He has just broken out of Newgate. After
him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him."
Sheppard's name operated like magic on the crowd. The cry was echoed by
twenty different voices. People ran out of their shops to join the
pursuit; and, by the time Wild had got into Field-lane, he had a troop
of fifty persons at his heels--all eager to assist in the capture.
"Stop thief!" roared Jonathan, who perceived the fugitive hurrying along
a street towards Hatton Garden. "It is Sheppard--Jack Sheppard--stop
him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his
heels.
Jack, meanwhile, heard, the shouts, and, though alarmed by them, held on
a steady course. By various twistings and turnings, during all which
time his pursuers, who were greatly increased in numbers, kept him in
view, he reached Gray's-Inn-lane. Here he was hotly pursued. Fatigued by
his previous exertions, and incumbered by his fetters, he was by no
means--though ordinarily remarkably swift of foot--a match for his foes,
who were fast gaining upon him.
At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead
coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers,
waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. Hearing
the distant shouts, these fellows rushed down to the entrance of the
court, and arrived there just as Jack passed it. "Stop thief!" roared
Jonathan. "Stop thief!" clamoured the rabble behind.
At no loss to comprehend that Jack was the individual pointed out by
these outcries, two of the nearest of the group made a dash at him. But
Jack eluded their grasp. A large dog was then set at him by a
stable-boy; but, striking the animal with his faithful iron-bar, he
speedily sent him yelping back. The two hostlers, however, kept close at
his heels; and Jack, whose strength began to flag, feared he could not
hold much longer. Determined, however, not be taken with life, he held
on.
Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, he ran along the direct road, till
the houses disappeared and he got into the open country. Here he was
preparing to leap over the hedge into the fields on the left, when he
was intercepted by two horsemen, who, hearing the shouts, rode up and
struck at him with the butt-ends of their heavy riding-whips. Warding
off the blows as well as he could with the bar, Jack struck both the
horses on the head, and the animals plunged so violently, that they not
only prevented their riders from assailing him, but also kept off the
hostlers; and, in the confusion that ensued, Jack managed to spring over
the fence, and shaped his course across the field in the direction of
Sir John Oldcastle's.
The stoppage had materially lessened the distance between him and his
pursuers, who now amounted to more than a hundred persons, many of whom
carried lanterns and links. Ascertaining that it was Sheppard of whom
this concourse was in pursuit, the two horsemen leapt the hedge, and
were presently close upon him. Like a hare closely pressed, Jack
attempted to double, but the device only brought him nearer his foes,
who were crossing the field in every direction, and rending the air with
their shouts. The uproar was tremendous--men yelling--dogs barking,--but
above all was heard the stentorian voice of Jonathan, urging them on.
Jack was so harrassed that he felt half inclined to stand at bay.
While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head
foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark.
This fall saved him, for the horsemen passed over him. Creeping along
quickly on his hands and knees, he found the entrance to a covered
drain, into which he crept. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the
horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back.
By this time, Jonathan and the vast mob attending him, had come up, and
the place was rendered almost as light as day by the links.
"He must be somewhere hereabouts," cried one of the horsemen,
dismounting. "We were close upon him when he suddenly disappeared."
Jonathan made no answer, but snatching a torch from a bystander, jumped
into the trench and commenced a diligent search. Just as he had arrived
at the mouth of the drain, and Jack felt certain he must be discovered,
a loud shout was raised from the further end of the field that the
fugitive was caught. All the assemblage, accompanied by Jonathan, set
off in this direction, when it turned out that the supposed housebreaker
was a harmless beggar, who had been found asleep under a hedge.
Jonathan's vexation at the disappointment was expressed in the bitterest
imprecations, and he returned as speedily as he could to the trench. But
he had now lost the precise spot; and thinking he had examined the
drain, turned his attention to another quarter.
Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided. The
crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy
shower coming on, put them altogether to flight. Jonathan, however,
still lingered. He seemed wholly insensible to the rain, though it
presently descended in torrents, and continued his search as ardently as
before.
After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought
Jack must have given him the slip. Still, his suspicions were so strong,
that he ordered Mendez to remain on guard near the spot all night, and,
by the promise of a large reward induced two other men to keep him
company.
As he took his departure, he whispered to the Jew: "Take him dead or
alive; but if we fail now, and you heard him aright in Seacoal Lane, we
are sure of him at his mother's funeral on Sunday."