and welcome, Madam!” rejoined Kneebone, spitefully. “But, I should think, after the specimen you’ve just given of your amiable disposition, no person would be likely to saddle himself with such an incumbrance.”
“What say you, Sir?” said the Amazon, with an engaging leer at the stranger. “You will find me tractable enough; and, with me by, your side you need fear neither constable nor watchman. I’ve delivered Jack Sheppard from many an assault. I can wield a quarterstaff as well as a prize-fighter, and have beaten Figg himself at the broadsword. Will you take me?”
However tempting Mrs. Maggot’s offer may appear, the young man thought fit to decline it, and, after a few words of well-merited compliment on her extraordinary prowess, and renewed thanks to Mr. Kneebone, he took his departure.
“Good bye!” cried Mrs. Maggot, kissing her hand to him. “I’ll find you out. And now,” she added, glancing contemptuously at the woollen-draper, “I’ll go to Jack Sheppard.”
“You shall first go to Bridewell, you jade!” rejoined Kneebone. “Here, Tom,” he added, calling to a shop-boy, “run and fetch a constable.”
“He had better bring half-a-dozen,” said the Amazon, taking up a cloth-yard wand, and quietly seating herself; “one won’t do.”
On leaving Mr. Kneebone’s house, the young man hastened to a hotel in the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he shaped his course towards the west end of the town. Urging his steed along Oxford Road — as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed — he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. This “fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave” was marked by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Opposite the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. Influenced, probably, by what he had heard from Mr. Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie. While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. One of them was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and harsh forbidding features. He was well mounted, as was his companion; and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. The other individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed from the stranger’s view. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his own age. The dress of this person was excessively showy, and consisted of a scarlet riding-habit, lined and faced with blue, and bedizened with broad gold lace, a green silk-knit waistcoat, embroidered with silver, and decorated with a deep fringe, together with a hat tricked out in the same gaudy style. His figure was slight, but well-built; and, in stature he did not exceed five feet four. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. His head was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. A mutual recognition took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual. Both started. The latter seemed inclined to advance and address the former; but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his companion in tones familiar to the stranger’s ear; and, striking spurs into his steed, dashed off at full speed along the Edgeware Road. Impelled by a feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him. Remarking that they struck off at a turning on the left, he took the same road, and soon found himself on Paddington-Green. A row of magnificent, and even then venerable, elms threw their broad arms over this pleasant spot. From a man, who was standing beneath the shade of one these noble trees, information was obtained that the horsemen had ridden along the Harrow Road. With a faint view of overtaking them the pursuer urged his steed to a quicker pace. Arrived at Westbourne-Green — then nothing more than a common covered with gorse and furzebushes, and boasting only a couple of cottages and an alehouse — he perceived through the hedges the objects of his search slowly ascending the gentle hill that rises from Kensall-Green.
By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered — as he conceived — so far out of his course. Before retracing his steps, however, he allowed his gaze to range over the vast and beautiful prospect spread out beneath him, which is now hidden, from the traveller’s view by the high walls of the General Cemetery, and can, consequently, only be commanded from the interior of that attractive place of burial — and which, before it was intersected by canals and railroads, and portioned out into hippodromes, was exquisite indeed. After feasting his eye upon this superb panorama, he was about to return, when he ascertained from a farmer that his nearest road to Willesden would be down a lane a little further on, to the right. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. Glancing at the finger-post over the cage, which has been described as situated at the outskirts of the village, and seeing no directions to Dollis Hill, he made fresh inquiries as to where it lay, from an elderly man, who was standing with another countryman near the little prison.
“Whose house do you want, master?” said the man, touching his hat.
“Mr. Wood’s,” was the reply.
“There is Dollis Hill,” said the man, pointing to a well-wooded eminence about a mile distant, “and there,” he added, indicating the roof of a house just visible above a grove of trees “is Mr. Wood’s. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you’ll come to Neasdon and then you’ll not have above half a mile to go.”
The young man thanked his informant, and was about to follow his instructions, when the other called after him ——
“I say, master, did you ever hear tell of Mr. Wood’s famous ‘prentice?”
“What apprentice?” asked the stranger, in surprise.
“Why, Jack Sheppard, the notorious house-breaker — him as has robbed half Lunnun, to be sure. You must know, Sir, when he was a lad, the day after he broke into his master’s house in Wych Street, he picked a gentleman’s pocket in our church, during sarvice time — that he did, the heathen. The gentleman catched him i’ th’ fact, and we shut him up for safety i’ that pris’n. But,” said the fellow, with a laugh, “he soon contrived to make his way out on it, though. Ever since he’s become so famous, the folks about here ha’ christened it Jack Sheppard’s cage. His mother used to live i’ this village, just down yonder; but when her son took to bad ways, she went distracted — and now she’s i’ Bedlam, I’ve heerd.”
“I tell e’e what, John Dump,” said the other fellow, who had hitherto preserved silence, “I don’t know whether you talkin’ o’ Jack Sheppard has put him into my head or not; but I once had him pointed out to me, and if that were him as I seed then, he’s just now ridden past us, and put up at the Six Bells.”
“The deuce he has!” cried Dump. “If you were sure o’ that we might seize him, and get the reward for his apprehension.”
“That ‘ud be no such easy matter,” replied the countryman. “Jack’s a desperate fellow, and is always well armed; besides, he has a comrade with him. But I’ll tell e’e what we might do ——”
