ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. Near as idiot as this capitaine of yours. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. The bed was hard beyond any experience of hers, the bed-clothes coarse and insufficient, the cell at once cold and stuffy. But Miss Stanley took no notice of these things. "It is Jack Sheppard, the noted housebreaker," cried Jonathan, at the top of his sonorous voice. Give me the chisel, Blueskin.
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