Scarcely an hour after the horrible occurrence just related, as Jonathan Wild was seated in the audience-chamber of his residence at the Old Bailey, occupied, like Peachum, (for whose portrait he sat,) with his account-books and registers, he was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Quilt Arnold, who announced Jack Sheppard and Blueskin.
“Ah!” cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. “I was just thinking of you Jack. What news. Have you done the trick at Dollis Hill? — brought off the swag — eh?”
“No,” answered Jack, flinging himself sullenly into a chair, “I’ve not.”
“Why how’s this?” exclaimed Jonathan. “Jack Sheppard failed! I’d not believe it, if any one but himself told me so.”
“I’v not failed,” returned Jack, angrily; “but we’ve done too much.”
“I’m no reader of riddles,” said Jonathan. “Speak plainly.”
“Let this speak for me,” said Sheppard, tossing a heavy bag of money towards him. “You can generally understand that language. There’s more than I undertook to bring. It has been purchased by blood!”
“What! have you cut old Wood’s throat?” asked Wild, with great unconcern, as he took up the bag.
“If I had, you’d not have seen me here,” replied Jack, sullenly. “The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife.”
“It was her own fault,” observed Blueskin, moodily. “She wouldn’t let me go. I did it in self-defence.”
“I care not why you did it,” said Jack, sternly. “We work together no more.”
“Come, come, Captain,” remonstrated Blueskin. “I thought you’d have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. You know as well as I do that it was accident.”
“Accident or not,” rejoined Sheppard; “you’re no longer pall of mine.”
“And so this is my reward for having made you the tip-top cracksman you are,” muttered Blueskin; —“to be turned off at a moment’s notice, because I silenced a noisy woman. It’s too hard. Think better of it.”
“My mind’s made up,” rejoined Jack, coldly — “we part to-night.”
“I’ll not go,” answered the other. “I love you like a son, and will follow you like a dog. You’d not know what to do without me, and shan’t drive me off.”
“Well!” remarked Jonathan, who had paid little attention to the latter part of the conversation: “this is an awkward business certainly: but we must do the best we can in it. You must keep out of the way till it’s blown over. I can accommodate you below.”
“I don’t require it,” returned Sheppard. “I’m tired of the life I’m leading. I shall quit it and go abroad.”
“I’ll go with you,” said Blueskin.
“Before either of you go, you will ask my permission,” said Jonathan, coolly.
“How!” exclaimed Sheppard. “Do you mean to say you will interfere —”
“I mean to say this,” interrupted Wild, with contemptuous calmness, “that I’ll neither allow you to leave England nor the profession you’ve engaged in. I wouldn’t allow you to be honest even if you could be so — which I doubt. You are my slave — and such you shall continue.’”
“Slave?” echoed Jack.
“Dare to disobey,” continued Jonathan: “neglect my orders, and I will hang you.”
Sheppard started to his feet.
“Hear me,” he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. “It is time you should know whom you have to deal with. Henceforth, I utterly throw off the yoke you have laid upon me. I will neither stir hand nor foot for you more. Attempt to molest me, and I split. You are more in my power than I am in yours. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day.”
“That he is,” added Blueskin, approvingly.
Jonathan smiled contemptuously.
“One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you,” said Jack.
“What’s that?” asked Wild.
“The youth whom you delivered to Van Galgebrok — Thames Darrell, is returned.”
“Impossible!” cried Jonathan. “He was thrown overboard, and perished at sea.”
“He is alive,” replied Jack, “I have seen him, and might have conversed with him if I had chosen. Now, I know you can restore him to his rights, if you choose. Do so; and I am yours as heretofore.”
“Humph!” exclaimed Jonathan.
“Your answer!” cried Sheppard. “Yes, or no?”
“I will make no terms with you,” rejoined Wild, sternly. “You have defied me, and shall feel my power. You have been useful to me, or I would not have spared you thus long. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose.”
“Deferred!” echoed Sheppard.
“Hear me out,” said Jonathan. “You came hither under my protection, and you shall depart freely — nay, more, you shall have an hour’s grace. After that time, I shall place my setters on your heels.”
“You cannot prevent my departure,” replied Jack, dauntlessly, “and therefore your offer is no favour. But I tell you in return, I shall take no pains to hide myself. If you want me, you know where to find me.”
“An hour,” said Jonathan, looking at his watch — “remember!”
“If you send for me to the Cross Shovels in the Mint, where I’m going with Blueskin, I will surrender myself without resistance,” returned Jack.
“You will spare the officers a labour then,” rejoined Jonathan.
“Can’t I settle this business, Captain,” muttered Blueskin, drawing a pistol.
“Don’t harm him,” said Jack, carelessly: “he dares not do it.”
So saying, he left the room.
“Blueskin,” said Jonathan, as that worthy was about to follow, “I advise you to remain with me.”
“No,” answered the ruffian, moodily. “If you arrest him, you must arrest me also.”
“As you will,” said Jonathan, seating himself.
Jack and his comrade went to the Mint, where he was joined by Edgeworth Bess, with whom he sat down most unconcernedly to supper. His revelry, however, was put an end at the expiration of the time mentioned by Jonathan, by the entrance of a posse of constables with Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez at their head. Jack, to the surprise of all his companions, at once surrendered himself:
