Jack Sheppard | Page 9

the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the
lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. A moment afterwards,
the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone.
"Mercy on us!" cried he, as a thrill of apprehension ran through his
frame. "The Dutchman was right, after all."
This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a
pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears.

"I have him!" cried a voice in triumph.
A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by
the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat. This person was
speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried
flambeaux.
"Mur--der!" roared Wood, struggling to free himself from his assailant,
by whom he was half strangled.
"Damnation!" exclaimed one of the leaders of the party in a furious
tone, snatching a torch from an attendant, and throwing its light full
upon the face of the carpenter; "this is not the villain, Sir Cecil."
"So I find, Rowland," replied the other, in accents of deep
disappointment, and at the same time relinquishing his grasp. "I could
have sworn I saw him enter this passage. And how comes his cloak on
this knave's shoulders?"
"It is his cloak, of a surety," returned Rowland "Harkye, sirrah,"
continued he, haughtily interrogating Wood; "where is the person from
whom you received this mantle?"
"Throttling a man isn't the way to make him answer questions," replied
the carpenter, doggedly. "You'll get nothing out of me, I can promise
you, unless you show a little more civility."
"We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose
the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this
building. Let us search it."
Just then, the infant began to sob piteously.
"Hist!" cried Rowland, arresting his comrade. "Do you hear that! We
are not wholly at fault. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is
found."
With these words, he tore the mantle from Wood's back, and,

perceiving the child, endeavoured to seize it. In this attempt he was,
however, foiled by the agility of the carpenter, who managed to retreat
to the door, against which he placed his back, kicking the boards
vigorously with his heel.
"Joan! Joan!" vociferated he, "open the door, for God's sake, or I shall
be murdered, and so will your babby! Open the door quickly, I say."
"Knock him on the head," thundered Sir Cecil, "or we shall have the
watch upon us."
"No fear of that," rejoined Rowland: "such vermin never dare to show
themselves in this privileged district. All we have to apprehend is a
rescue."
The hint was not lost upon Wood. He tried to raise an outcry, but his
throat was again forcibly griped by Rowland.
"Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. Yield
up the babe, and I pledge my word you shall remain unmolested."
"I will yield it to no one but its mother," answered Wood.
"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. "Give
me the child, or--"
As he spoke the door was thrown open, and Mrs. Sheppard staggered
forward. She looked paler than ever; but her countenance, though
bewildered, did not exhibit the alarm which might naturally have been
anticipated from the strange and perplexing scene presented to her
view.
"Take it," cried Wood, holding the infant towards her; "take it, and fly."
Mrs. Sheppard put out her arms mechanically. But before the child
could be committed to her care, it was wrested from the carpenter by
Rowland.
"These people are all in league with him," cried the latter. "But don't

wait for me, Sir Cecil. Enter the house with your men. I'll dispose of
the brat."
This injunction was instantly obeyed. The knight and his followers
crossed the threshold, leaving one of the torch-bearers behind them.
"Davies," said Rowland, delivering the babe, with a meaning look, to
his attendant.
"I understand, Sir," replied Davies, drawing a little aside. And, setting
down the link, he proceeded deliberately to untie his cravat.
"My God! will you see your child strangled before your eyes, and not
so much as scream for help?" said Wood, staring at the widow with a
look of surprise and horror. "Woman, your wits are fled!"
And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur
distractedly, "I can't find the key."
"Devil take the key!" ejaculated Wood. "They're about to murder your
child--your child, I tell you! Do you comprehend what I say, Joan?"
"I've hurt my head," replied Mrs. Sheppard, pressing her hand to her
temples.
And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood
coursing slowly down her cheek.
At this moment, Davies,