On the following night--namely Monday,--the family assembled
together, for the first time since the fatal event, in the chamber
to which Thames had been introduced on his arrival at Dollis Hill. As
this had been Mrs. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image
was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor
his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. Determined,
however, to conquer the feeling as soon as possible, Wood had given
orders to have the evening meal served there; but, notwithstanding
all his good resolutions upon his first entrance, he had much ado to
maintain his self-command. His wife's portrait had been removed from
the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by
the cord by which it had been suspended. The very blank, however,
affected him more deeply than if it had been left. Then a
handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from
singing; it was _her_ favourite canary. The flowers upon the
mantel-shelf were withered and drooping--_she_ had gathered them.
All these circumstances,--slight in themselves, but powerful in their
effect,--touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his
depression.
Supper was over. It had been discussed in silence. The cloth
was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as
possible--for it was getting dusk--put on his spectacles, and opened
that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction
is derived, and left the lovers--for such they may now be fairly
termed--to their own conversation. Having already expressed our
determination not to betray any confidences of this sort, which,
however interesting to the parties concerned, could not possibly be
so to others, we shall omit also the “love passages,” and proceeding
to such topics as may have general interest, take up the discourse at
the point when Thames Darrell expressed his determination of starting
for Manchester, as soon as Jack Sheppard's examination had taken
place.
“I am surprised we have received no summons for attendance to-day,”
he remarked; “perhaps the other robber may be secured.”
“Or Jack have escaped,” remarked Winny.
“I don't think that's likely. But, this sad affair disposed of, I
will not rest till I have avenged my murdered parents.”
“'_The avenger of blood himself shall slay the murderer_',” said
Wood, who was culling for himself certain texts from the scriptures.
“It is the voice of inspiration,” said Thames; “and I receive it as a
solemn command. The villain has enjoyed his security too long.”
“'_Bloody and deceitful men shall not live half their days_',” said
Wood, reading aloud another passage.
“And yet, _he_ has been spared thus long; perhaps with a wise
purpose,” rejoined Thames. “But, though the storm has spared him, _I_
will not.”
“'_No doubt_,'” said Wood, who had again turned over the leaves of
the sacred volume--', “_no doubt this man is a murderer, whom, though
he escaped the seas, yet vengeance suffereth not to live_'.”
“No feelings of consanguinity shall stay my vengeance,” said Thames,
sternly. “I will have no satisfaction but his life.”
“'_Thou shalt take no satisfaction for the life of a murderer which
is guilty of death, but he shall surely be put to death_',” said Wood
referring to another text.
“Do not steel your heart against him, dear Thames,” interposed
Winifred.
“'_And thine eye shall not pity_,'” said her father, in a tone of
rebuke, “'_but, life shall be for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth,
hand for hand, foot for foot_.'”
As these words were delivered by the carpenter with stern emphasis,
a female servant entered the room, and stated that a gentleman was
at the door, who wished to speak with Captain Darell on business of
urgent importance.
“With me?” said Thames. “Who is it?”
“He didn't give his name, Sir,” replied the maid; “but he's a young
gentleman.”
“Don't go near him, dear Thames,” said Winifred; “he may have some
ill intention.”
“Pshaw!” cried Thames. “What! refuse to see a person who desires to
speak with me. Say I will come to him.”
“Law! Miss,” observed the maid, “there's nothing mischievous in
the person's appearance, I'm sure. He's as nice and civil-spoken
a gentleman as need be; by the same token,” she added, in an under
tone, “that he gave me a span new crown piece.”
“'_The thief cometh in the night, and the troop of robbers spoileth
without_,'” said Wood, who had a text for every emergency.
“Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!--how you _do_ talk,” said the woman; “this is
no robber, I'm sure. I should have known at a glance if it was. He's
more like a lord than--”
As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open,
and a young man marched boldly into the room.
The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet
riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger
was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee,
and he carried a laced hat in his hand. Advancing to the middle
of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark,
expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. His appearance excited the
greatest astonishment and consternation amid the group. Winifred
screamed. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while
Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not
deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the
extremity of surprise--“Jack Sheppard!”
“Jack Sheppard!” echoed the maid. “Is this Jack Sheppard? Oh, la! I'm
undone! We shall all have our throats cut! Oh! oh!” And she rushed,
screaming, into the passage where she fell down in a fit.
The occasion of all this confusion and dismay, meanwhile, remained
perfectly motionless; his figure erect, and with somewhat of dignity
in his demeanour. He kept his keen eyes steadily fixed on Thames, as
if awaiting to be addressed.
“Your audacity passes belief,” cried the latter, as soon as his
surprise would allow him utterance. “If you have contrived to break
out of your confinement, villain, this is the last place where you
ought to show yourself.”
“And, therefore, the first I would visit,” replied Jack, boldly.
“But, pardon my intrusion. I was _resolved_ to see you. And, fearing
you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty
of discomposing your friends.”
“Well, villain!” replied Thames, “I know not the motive of your
visit. But, if you have come to surrender yourself to justice, it is
well. You cannot depart hence.”
“Cannot?” echoed Jack, a slight smile crossing his features. “But,
let that pass. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save
your life. If you choose to requite me by detaining me, you are at
liberty to do so. I shall make no defence. That I am not ignorant of
the reward offered for my capture this will show,” he added, taking
a large placard headed '_Murder_' from his pocket, and throwing it
on the floor. “My demeanour ought to convince you that I came with
no hostile intention. And, to show you that I have no intention of
flying, I will myself close and lock the door. There is the key. Are
you now satisfied?”
“No,” interposed Wood, furiously, “I shall never be satisfied till I
see you hanged on the highest gibbet at Tyburn.”
“A time may come when you will be gratified, Mr. Wood,” replied Jack,
calmly.
“May come!--it _will_ come!--it _shall_ come!” cried the carpenter,
shaking his hand menacingly at him. “I have some difficulty in
preventing myself from becoming your executioner. Oh! that I should
have nursed such a viper!”
“Hear me, Sir,” said Jack.
“No, I won't hear you, murderer,” rejoined Wood.
“I am no murderer,” replied Sheppard. “I had no thought of injuring
your wife, and would have died rather than commit so foul a crime.”
“Think not to delude me, audacious wretch,” cried the carpenter.
“Even if you are not a principal, you are an accessory. If you had
not brought your companion here, it would not have happened. But you
shall swing, rascal,--you shall swing.”
“My conscience acquits me of all share in the offence,” replied Jack,
humbly. “But the past is irremediable, and I did not come hither to
exculpate myself, I came to save _your_ life,” he added, turning to
Thames.
“I was not aware it was in danger,” rejoined Darrell.
“Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. You _are_ in
danger.”
“From some of your associates?”
“From your uncle, from _my_ uncle,--Sir Rowland Trenchard.”
“What means this idle boasting, villain?” said Thames. “_Your_ uncle,
Sir Rowland?”
“It is no idle boasting,” replied the other. “You are cousin to the
housebreaker, Jack Sheppard.”
“If it were so, he would have great reason to be proud of the
relationship, truly,” observed Wood, shrugging his shoulders.
“It is easy to make an assertion like this,” said Thames,
contemptuously.
“And equally easy to prove it,” replied Jack, giving him the paper he
had abstracted from Wild. “Read that.”
Thames hastily cast his eyes over it, and transferred it, with a look
of incredulity, to Wood.
“Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest,” cried
the carpenter, rubbing his eyes. “Thames, this is no forgery.”
“You believe it, father?”
“From the bottom of my heart. I always thought Mrs. Sheppard superior
to her station.”
“So did I,” said Winifred. “Let me look at the paper.”
“Poor soul!--poor soul!” groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his
vision. “Well, I'm glad she's spared this. Oh! Jack, Jack, you've
much to answer for!”
“I have, indeed,” replied Sheppard, in a tone of contrition.
“If this document is correct,” continued Wood, “and I am persuaded
it is so,--you are as unfortunate as wicked. See what your
misconduct has deprived you of--see what you might have been. This is
retribution.”
“I feel it,” replied Jack, in a tone of agony, “and I feel it more on
my poor mother's account than my own.”
“She has suffered enough for you,” said Wood.
“She has, she has,” said Jack, in a broken voice.
“Weep on, reprobate,” cried the carpenter, a little softened. “Those
tears will do you good.”
“Do not distress him, dear father,” said Winifred; “he suffers
deeply. Oh, Jack! repent, while it is yet time, of your evil conduct.
I will pray for you.”
“I cannot repent,--I cannot pray,” replied Jack, recovering his
hardened demeanour. “I should never have been what I am, but for
you.”
“How so?” inquired Winifred.
“I loved you,” replied Jack,--“don't start--it is over now--I loved
you, I say, as a boy, _hopelessly_, and it made me desperate. And now
I find, when it is too late, that I _might_ have deserved you--that
I am as well born as Thames Darrell. But I mustn't think of these
things, or I shall grow mad. I have said your life is in danger,
Thames. Do not slight my warning. Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware
of your return to England. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's,
after my escape from the New Prison. He had just arrived from
Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous
thief-taker. I overheard them planning your assassination. It is to
take place to-night.”
“O Heavens!” screamed Winifred, while her father lifted up his hands
in silent horror.
“And when I further tell you,” continued Jack, “that, after yourself
and my mother, _I_ am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather,
Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is
sufficiently disinterested.”
“Could I credit your wild story, I might do so,” returned Thames,
with a look of perplexity.
“Here are Jonathan Wild's written instructions to Quilt Arnold,”
rejoined Sheppard, producing the pocket-book he had found in
the janizary's clothes. “This letter will vouch for me that a
communication has taken place between your enemies.”
Thames glanced at the despatch, and, after a moment's reflection,
inquired, “In what way is the attempt upon my life to be made?”
“That I couldn't ascertain,” replied Jack; “but I advise you to be
upon your guard. For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood
at this moment.”
“Here!” ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm. “Oh lord! I hope not.”
“This I do know,” continued Jack,--“Jonathan Wild superintends the
attack.”
“Jonathan Wild!” repeated the carpenter, trembling. “Then it's all
over with us. Oh dear!--how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street. We
may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the
wiser.”
“There's some one in the garden at this moment,” cried Jack; “I saw a
face at the window.”
“Where--where?” cried Thames.
“Don't stir,” replied Jack. “I will at once convince you of the truth
of my assertions, and ascertain whether the enemy really is at hand.”
So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw open the sash, and
called out in the voice of Thames Darrell, “Who's there?”
He was answered by a shot from a pistol. The ball passed over his
head, and lodged in the ceiling.
“I was right,” replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had
happened. “It is Jonathan. Your uncle--_our_ uncle is with him. I saw
them both.”
“May I trust you?” cried Thames, eagerly.
“You may,” replied Jack: “I'll fight for you to the last gasp.”
“Follow me, then,” cried Thames, drawing his sword, and springing
through the window.
“To the world's end,” answered Jack, darting after him.
“Thames!--Thames!” cried Winifred, rushing to the window. “He will be
murdered!--Help!”
“My child!--my love!” cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back.
Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard
below.
After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until
nothing could be heard.
Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them
with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden,
where the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended
on the ground, and weltering in his blood. Of Jack Sheppard or the
assailants they could not discover a single trace.
As the body was borne to the house in the arms of the farming-men,
Mr. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild.