"You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. "I'm come to say good bye to
you, and to assure you of my safety before I leave this place."
"Where are you going?" asked his mother.
"I hardly know," returned Jack; "but it's not safe for me to remain much
longer here."
"True," replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible recollections of
the day before crowded, "I know it isn't. I won't keep you long. But
tell me how have you escaped from the confinement in which you were
placed--come and sit by me--here--upon the bed--give me your hand--and
tell me all about it."
Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her.
"Jack," said Mrs. Sheppard, clasping him with a hand that burnt with
fever, "I have been ill--dreadfully ill--I believe delirious--I thought
I should have died last night--I won't tell you what agony you have
caused me--I won't reproach you. Only promise me to amend--to quit your
vile companions--and I will forgive you--will bless you. Oh! my dear,
dear son, be warned in time. You are in the hands of a wicked, a
terrible man, who will not stop till he has completed your destruction.
Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die broken-hearted."
"It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I
would."
"Oh! do not say so," replied his wretched parent. "It is never too late.
I know you are in Jonathan Wild's power, for I saw him near you in the
church; and if ever the enemy of mankind was permitted to take human
form, I beheld him then. Beware of him, my son! Beware of him! You know
not what villany he is capable of. Be honest, and you will be happy. You
are yet a child; and though you have strayed from the right path, a
stronger hand than your own has led you thence. Return, I implore of
you, to your master,--to Mr. Wood. Acknowledge your faults. He is all
kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake--for mine.
Return to him, I say--"
"I can't," replied Jack, doggedly.
"Can't!" repeated his mother. "Why not?"
"_I'll_ tell you," cried a deep voice from the back of the bed. And
immediately afterwards the curtain was drawn aside, and disclosed the
Satanic countenance of Jonathan Wild, who had crept into the house
unperceived, "I'll tell you, why he can't go back to his master," cried
the thief-taker, with a malignant grin. "He has robbed him."
"Robbed him!" screamed the widow. "Jack!"
Her son averted his gaze.
"Ay, robbed him," reiterated Jonathan. "The night before last, Mr.
Wood's house was broken into and plundered. Your son was seen by the
carpenter's wife in company with the robbers. Here," he added, throwing
a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars of the burglary, with the
reward for Jack's apprehension."
"Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face.
"Come," said Wild, turning authoritatively to Jack,--"you have
overstayed your time."
"Do not go with him, Jack!" shrieked his mother. "Do not--do not!"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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