returned Jack, “you shall walk. Now,” he added, as his commands were reluctantly obeyed, “help me on with them.”
Quilt knelt down, as if he meant to comply; but, watching his opportunity, he made a sudden grasp at Sheppard’s leg, with the intention of overthrowing him.
But Jack was too nimble for him. Striking out his foot, he knocked half a dozen teeth down the janizary’s throat; and, seconding the kick with a blow on the head from the butt-end of the pistol, stretched him, senseless and bleeding on the ground.
“Like master like man,” observed Jack as he rolled the inanimate body to the side of the road. “From Jonathan Wild’s confidential servant what could be expected but treachery?”
With this, he proceeded to dress himself in Quilt Arnold’s clothes, pulled the wig over his face and eyes so as completely to conceal his features, slouched the hat over his brows, drew the huge boots above his knees, and muffled himself up in the best way he could. On searching the coat, he found, amongst other matters, a mask, a key, and a pocket-book. The latter appeared to contain several papers, which Jack carefully put by, in the hope that they might turn out of importance in a scheme of vengeance which he meditated against the thief-taker. He then mounted the jaded hack, which had long since regained its legs, and was quietly browsing the grass at the road-side, and, striking spurs into its side, rode off. He had not proceeded far when he encountered Sir Rowland, who, having missed his attendant, had returned to look after him.
“What has delayed you?” demanded the knight impatiently.
“My horse has had a fall,” replied Jack, assuming to perfection — for he was a capital mimic — the tones of Quilt Arnold. “It was some time before I could get him to move.”
“I fancied I heard voices,” rejoined Sir Rowland.
“So did I,” answered Jack; “we had better move on. This is a noted place for highwaymen.”
“I thought you told me that the rascal who has so long been the terror of the town — Jack Sheppard — was in custody.”
“So he is,” returned Jack; “but there’s no saying how long he may remain so. Besides, there are greater rascals than Jack Sheppard at liberty, Sir Rowland.”
Sir Rowland made no reply, but angrily quickened his pace. The pair then descended Saffron-hill, threaded Field-lane, and, entering Holborn, passed over the little bridge which then crossed the muddy waters of Fleet-ditch, mounted Snow-hill, and soon drew in the bridle before Jonathan Wild’s door. Aware of Quilt Arnold’s mode of proceeding, Jack instantly dismounted, and, instead of knocking, opened the door with the pass-key. The porter instantly made his appearance, and Sheppard ordered him to take care of the horses.
“Well, what sort of journey have you had, Quilt?” asked the man as he hastened to assist Sir Rowland to dismount.
“Oh! we’ve lost no time, as you perceive,” replied Jack. “Is the governor within?”
“Yes; you’ll find him in the audience-chamber. He has got Blueskin with him.”
“Ah! indeed! what’s he doing here?” inquired Jack.
“Come to buy off Jack Sheppard, I suppose,” replied the fellow. “But it won’t do. Mr. Wild has made up his mind, and, when that’s the case, all the persuasion on earth won’t turn him. Jack will be tried to-morrow; and, as sure as my name’s Obadiah Lemon he’ll take up his quarters at the King’s-Head,” pointing to Newgate, “over the way.”
“Well, we shall see,” replied Jack. “Look to the horses, Obadiah. This way, Sir Rowland.”
As familiar as Quilt Arnold himself with every part of Wild’s mysterious abode, as well as with the ways of its inmates, Jack, without a moment’s hesitation, took up a lamp which was burning in the hall, and led his companion up the great stone stairs. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented — “Sir Rowland Trenchard.”
Jonathan, who was engaged in conversation with Blueskin, instantly arose, and bowed with cringing ceremoniousness to the knight. The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair.
“You’ve arrived sooner than I expected, Sir Rowland,” observed the thief-taker. “Lost no time on the road — eh! — I didn’t expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person. — You’ve your answer, Blueskin,” he added, pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; “it’s useless to urge the matter further. Jack is registered in the Black Book.”
“One word before I go,” urged Blueskin.
“Not a syllable,” replied Wild. “If you talk as long as an Old Bailey counsel, you’ll not alter my determination.”
“Won’t my life do as well as his?” supplicated the other.
“Humph!” exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully. “And you would surrender yourself — eh?”
“I’ll surrender myself at once, if you’ll engage to bring him off; and you’ll get the reward from old Wood. It’s two hundred pounds. Recollect that.”
“Faithful fellow!” murmured Jack. “I forgive him his disobedience.”
“Will you do it?” persisted Blueskin.
“No,” replied Wild; “and I’ve only listened to your absurd proposal to see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you.”
“I do love him,” cried Blueskin, “and that’s the long and short of it. I’ve taught him all he can do; and there isn’t his fellow, and never will be again. I’ve seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him. If you hang Jack Sheppard, you’ll cut off the flower o’ the purfession. But I’ll not believe it of you. It’s all very well to read him a lesson, and teach him obedience; but you’ve gone far enough for that.”
“Not quite,” rejoined the thief-taker, significantly.
“Well,” growled Blueskin, “you’ve had my offer.”
“And you my warning,” retorted Wild. “Good night!”
“Blueskin,” whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, “wait without.”
“Power o’ mercy!” cried Blueskin starting.
“What’s the matter?” demanded Jonathan, harshly.
“Nothin’— nothin’,” returned Blueskin; “only I thought —”
“You saw the hangman, no doubt,” said Jack. “Take courage, man; it is only Quilt Arnold. Come, make yourself scarce. Don’t you see Mr. Wild’s busy.” And then he added, in an under tone, “Conceal yourself outside, and be within call.”
Blueskin nodded, and left the room. Jack affected to close the door, but left it slightly ajar.
“What did you say to him?” inquired Jonathan, suspiciously.
“I advised him not to trouble you farther about Jack Sheppard,” answered the supposed janizary.
“He seems infatuated about the lad,” observed Wild. “I shall be obliged to hang him to keep him company. And now, Sir Rowland,” he continued, turning to the knight, “to our own concerns. It’s a long time since we met, eight years and more. I hope you’ve enjoyed your health. ‘Slife! you are wonderfully altered. I should scarcely have known you.”
The knight was indeed greatly changed. Though not much passed the middle term of life, he seemed prematurely stricken with old age. His frame was wasted, and slightly bent; his eyes were hollow, his complexion haggard, and his beard, which had remained unshorn during his hasty journey, was perfectly white. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever,