Jack Sheppard. Vol. 3. Ainsworth William Harrison

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Jack Sheppard. Vol. 3 - Ainsworth William Harrison


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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 felon, and can inherit nothing? But do not imagine that under any circumstances I would accept your terms. My mother shall never degrade herself by a connection with you.”

      “Degrade herself,” rejoined Jonathan, brutally. “Do you think I would take a harlot to my bed, if it didn’t suit my purposes to do so?”

      “He says right,” replied Mrs. Sheppard, distractedly. “I am only fit for such as him. Take me! take me!”

      “Before an hour you shall be mine,” said Jonathan advancing towards her.

      “Back!” cried Jack fiercely: “lay a finger on her, and I will fell you to the ground. Mother! do you know what you do? Would you sell yourself to this fiend?”

      “I would sell myself, body and soul, to save you,” rejoined his mother, bursting from his grasp.

      Jonathan caught her in his arms.

      “Come away!” he cried, with the roar of a demon.

      This laugh and his looks alarmed her.

      “It is the fiend!” she exclaimed, recoiling. “Save me!—save me!”

      “Damnation!” vociferated Jonathan, savagely. “We’ve no time for any Bedlam scenes now. Come along, you mad jade. I’ll teach you submission in time.”

      With this, he endeavoured to force her off; but, before he could accomplish his purpose, he was arrested, and his throat seized by Jack. In the struggle, Mrs. Sheppard broke from him, and filled the room with her shrieks.

      “I’ll now pay the debt I owe you,” cried Jack, tightening his grip till the thief-taker blackened in the face.

      “Dog!” cried Wild, freeing himself by a powerful effort, and dealing Jack a violent blow with the heavy bludgeon, which knocked him backwards, “you are not yet a match for Jonathan Wild. Neither you nor your mother shall escape me. But I must summon my janizaries.” So saying, he raised a whistle to his lips, and blew a loud call; and, as this was unanswered, another still louder. “Confusion!” he cried; “something has happened. But I won’t be cheated of my prize.”

      “Help! help!” shrieked Mrs. Sheppard, fleeing from him to the farthest corner of the room.

      But it was of no avail. Jonathan again seized her, when the door was thrown open, and Thames Darrell, followed by Mr. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. He flew to the window, and would have passed his sword through the thief-taker’s body, if the latter had not quickly interposed the person of Mrs. Sheppard, so that if the blow had been stricken she must have received it.

      “Quilt!—Mendez!—Where are you?” vociferated Wild, sounding his whistle for the third time.

      “You call in vain,” rejoined Thames. “Your assistants are in my power. Yield, villain!”

      “Never!” replied Jonathan.

      “Put down your burthen, monster!” shouted Wood, pointing an immense blunderbuss at him.

      “Take her,” cried Jonathan; and, flinging the now inanimate body of the poor widow, who had fainted in the struggle, into the arms of Thames, he leapt through the window, and by the time the latter could consign her to Wood, and dart after him, he had disappeared.

      “Pursue him,” cried Thames to the attendants, “and see that he does not escape.”

      The order was promptly obeyed.

      “Jack,” continued Thames, addressing Sheppard, who had only just recovered from the blow, and regained his feet, “I don’t ask how you came here, nor do I blame your rashness in doing so. Fortunately, ever since Wild’s late murderous attack, the household has all been well armed. A post-chaise seen in the road first alarmed us. On searching the grounds, we found two suspicious-looking fellows in the garden, and had scarcely secured them, when your mother’s cries summoned us hither, just in time to preserve her.”

      “Your arrival was most providential,” said Jack.

      “You must not remain here another instant,” replied Thames. “My horse is at the door, saddled, with pistols in the holsters,—mount him and fly.”

      “Thames, I have much to say,” said Jack, “much that concerns your safety.”

      “Not now,” returned Thames, impatiently. “I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here.”

      “I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street,” replied Jack. “By that time, I shall have fully considered a plan which occurs to me for defeating the schemes of your enemies.”

      “Before that time you will be captured, if you expose yourself thus,” rejoined Thames. “However, I will be there. Farewell.”

      “Till midnight,” replied Jack.

      And imprinting a kiss upon his mother’s cold lips, he left the room. He found the horse where Thames told him he would find him, mounted, and rode off across the fields in the direction of town.

      CHAPTER XII. THE WELL HOLE

      Jonathan Wild’s first object, as soon as he had made good his retreat, was to ascertain what had become of his janizaries, and, if possible, to release them. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. Advancing towards them, sword in hand, Jonathan so terrified the hinds by his fierce looks and determined manner, that, after a slight show of resistance, they took to their


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