two hours since,” rejoined Jack, “I was chained down in the Condemned Hold in Newgate. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out. Having heard from Thames that you were better, and that your sole anxiety was about me, I came to give you the first intelligence of my escape.”
“Bless you for it. But you will stay here?”
“I dare not. I must provide for my safety.”
“Mr. Wood will protect you,” urged Mrs. Sheppard.
“He has not the power — perhaps not the will to do so. And if he would, I would not subject him to the annoyance. The moment my escape is known, a large reward will be placed on my head. My dress, my person will be minutely described. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me.”
“You terrify me,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “Oh! if this is the case, do not stay an instant. Fly! fly!”
“As soon as I can do so with safety, I will return, or send to you,” said Jack.
“Do not endanger yourself on my account,” rejoined his mother. “I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you.”
“Do not talk thus, dear mother,” returned Jack, gazing anxiously at her pale countenance, “or I shall not be able to quit you. You must live for me.”
“I will try to do so,” replied the widow, forcing a smile. “One last embrace. I need not counsel you to avoid those fatal courses which have placed you in such fearful jeopardy.”
“You need not,” replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. “And, oh! forgive me, though I can never forgive myself, for the misery I have caused you.”
“Forgive you!” echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. “I have nothing to forgive. Ah!” she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, “there is Jonathan Wild!”
“Betrayed!” exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. “The door! — the door! — death!” he added, as he tried the handle, “it is locked — and I am unarmed. Madman that I am to be so!”
“Help!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard.
“Be silent,” said Jonathan, striding deliberately into the room; “these cries will avail you nothing. Whoever answers them must assist me to capture your son. Be silent, I say, if you value his safety.”
Awed by Jonathan’s manner, Mrs. Sheppard repressed the scream that rose to her lips, and both mother and son gazed with apprehension at the heavy figure of the thief-taker, which, viewed in the twilight, seemed dilated to twice its natural size, and appeared almost to block up the window. In addition to his customary arms, Jonathan carried a bludgeon with a large heavy knob, suspended from his wrist by a loop; a favourite weapon, which he always took with him on dangerous expeditions, and which, if any information had been requisite, would have told Sheppard that the present was one of them.
“Well, Jack,” he said, after a pause, “are you disposed to go back quietly with me?”
“You’ll ascertain that when you attempt to touch me,” rejoined Sheppard, resolutely.
“My janizaries are within call,” returned Wild. “I’m armed; you are not.”
“It matters not. You shall not take me alive.”
“Spare him! spare him!” cried Mrs. Sheppard, falling on her knees.
“Get up, mother,” cried Jack; “do not kneel to him. I wouldn’t accept my life from him. I’ve foiled him hitherto, and will foil him yet. And, come what will, I’ll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me.”
Jonathan raised his bludgeon, but controlled himself by a powerful effort.
“Fool!” he cried, “do you think I wouldn’t have secured you before this if I hadn’t some motive for my forbearance?”
“And that motive is fear,” replied Jack contemptuously.
“Fear!” echoed Wild, in a terrible tone — “fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you.”
“Don’t anger him, my dear son,” implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. “Perhaps he means well.”
“Mad as you are, you’re the more sensible of the two, I must say,” rejoined Jonathan.
“Spare him!” cried Mrs, Sheppard, who fancied she had made some impression on the obdurate breast of the thief-taker — “spare him! and I will forgive you, will thank you, bless you. Spare him! spare him!”
“On one condition I will spare him,” returned Wild; “on one condition only.”
“What is it?” asked the poor woman.
“Either he or you must return with me,” answered Jonathan.
“Take me, then,” replied the widow. And she would have rushed to him, if she had not been forcibly withheld by her son.
“Do not go near him, mother,” cried Jack; “do not believe him. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words.”
“I will go,” said Mrs. Sheppard, struggling to get free.
“Attend to me, Mrs. Sheppard,” said Jonathan, looking calmly on at this distressing scene, “Attend to me, and do not heed him. I swear to you, solemnly swear to you, I will save your son’s life, nay more, will befriend him, will place him out of the reach of his enemies, if you consent to become my wife.”
“Execrable villain!” exclaimed Jack.
“You hear that,” cried Mrs. Sheppard; “he swears to save you.”
“Well,” replied her son; “and you spurn the proposal.”
“No; she accepts it,” rejoined Jonathan, triumphantly. “Come along, Mrs. Sheppard. I’ve a carriage within call shall convey you swiftly to town. Come! come!”
“Hear me, mother,” cried Jack, “and I will explain to you why the villain makes this strange and revolting proposal. He well knows that but two lives — those of Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland Trenchard — stand between you and the vast possessions of the family. Those lives removed — and Sir Rowland is completely in his power, the estates would be yours — HIS! if he were your husband. Now do you see his motive?”
“I see nothing but your danger,” replied his mother, tenderly.
“Granted it were as you say, Jack,” said Wild; —“and I sha’n’t take the trouble to contradict you — the estates would be yours hereafter.”
“Liar!” cried Jack. “Do you affect ignorance that I am a condemned
