The Essential Works of William Harrison Ainsworth. William Harrison Ainsworth

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      “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.

      Audacity of Jack Sheppard

      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

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