The Closing Scene.
Tyburn was now at hand. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal
object. It was the gallows. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see
it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it
was in view. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his
demeanour except that he endeavoured to abstract himself from the
surrounding scene, and bend his attention to the prayers which the
ordinary was reciting.
Just as he had succeeded in fixing his attention, it was again shaken,
and he was almost unnerved by the sight of Mr. Wood, who was standing at
the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him.
Jack instantly sprang to his feet, and as his guards construed the
motion into an attempt to escape, several of them drew their swords and
motioned to him to sit down. But Jack did not heed them. His looks were
fixed on his old benefactor.
"God in Heaven bless you, unhappy boy!" cried. Wood, bursting into
tears, "God bless you!"
Jack extended his hand towards him, and looked anxiously for Thames; but
he was nowhere to be seen. A severe pang shot through Jack's heart, and
he would have given worlds if he possessed them to have seen his friend
once more. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly
thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer.
While this was passing, Jonathan had ridden back to Marvel to tell him
that all was ready, and to give him his last instructions.
"You'll lose no time," said the thief-taker. "A hundred pounds if you do
it quickly."
"Rely on me," rejoined the executioner, throwing away his pipe, which
was just finished.
A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now
prevailed amongst the assemblage. The thousand voices which a few
moments before had been so clamorous were now hushed. Not a breath was
drawn. The troops had kept a large space clear around the gallows. The
galleries adjoining it were crowded with spectators,--so was the roof of
a large tavern, then the only house standing at the end of the Edgeware
Road,--so were the trees,--the walls of Hyde Park,--a neighbouring barn,
a shed,--in short, every available position.
The cart, meantime, had approached the fatal tree. The guards, horse and
foot, and constables formed a wide circle round it to keep off the mob.
It was an awful moment--so awful, that every other feeling except deep
interest in the scene seemed suspended.
At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,--a smile
played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,--and the last
words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope
was then adjusted, and the cart began to move.
The next instant, he was launched into eternity!
Scarcely had he been turned off a moment, when a man with swarthy
features leapt into the cart with an open clasp-knife in his hand, and,
before he could be prevented, severed the rope, and cut down the body.
It was Blueskin. His assistance came too late. A ball from Wild's pistol
passed through his heart, and a volley of musketry poured from the
guards lodged several balls in the yet breathing body of his leader.
Blueskin, however, was not unattended. A thousand eager assistants
pressed behind him. Jack's body was caught, and passed from hand to hand
over a thousand heads, till it was far from the fatal tree.
The shouts of indignation--the frightful yells now raised baffle
description. A furious attack was made on Jonathan, who, though he
defended himself like a lion, was desperately wounded, and would
inevitably have perished if he had not been protected by the guards,
who were obliged to use both swords and fire-arms upon the mob in his
defence. He was at length rescued from his assailants,--rescued to
perish, seven months afterwards, with every ignominy, at the very gibbet
to which he had brought his victim.
The body of Jack Sheppard, meanwhile, was borne along by that tremendous
host, which rose and fell like the waves of the ocean, until it
approached the termination of the Edgeware Road.
At this point a carriage with servants in sumptuous liveries was
stationed. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask
on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. At
length, the body was brought towards him. Instantly seizing it, the
young man placed it in the carriage, shut the door, and commanded his
servants to drive off. The order was promptly obeyed, and the horses
proceeded at a furious pace along the Edgeware Road.
Half an hour afterwards the body of Jack was carefully examined. It had
been cut down before life was extinct, but a ball from one of the
soldiers had pierced his heart.
Thus died Jack Sheppard.
That night a grave was dug in Willesden churchyard, next to that in
which Mrs. Sheppard had been interred. Two persons, besides the
clergyman and sexton, alone attended the ceremony. They were a young man
and an old one, and both appeared deeply affected. The coffin was
lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. A simple wooden
monument was placed over the grave, but without any name or date. In
after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran
thus--
[Illustration: JACK SHEPPARD]
THE END.
End of Project Gutenberg's Jack Sheppard, by William Harrison Ainsworth