On leaving Mr. Kneebone's house, the young man hastened to a hotel in
the neighbourhood of Covent Garden, where, having procured a horse, he
shaped his course towards the west end of the town. Urging his steed
along Oxford Road,--as that great approach to the metropolis was then
termed,--he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the
exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on
the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw
in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off
upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place
of execution. This "fatal retreat for the unfortunate brave" was marked
by a low wooden railing, within which stood the triple tree. Opposite
the gallows was an open gallery, or scaffolding, like the stand at a
racecourse, which, on state occasions, was crowded with spectators.
Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their
ghastly burthens. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight.
Influenced, probably, by what he had heard from Mr. Kneebone, respecting
the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate
that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell
into a gloomy reverie. While he was thus musing, two horsemen rode past
him; and, proceeding to a little distance, stopped likewise. One of them
was a stout square-built man, with a singularly swarthy complexion, and
harsh forbidding features. He was well mounted, as was his companion;
and had pistols in his holsters, and a hanger at his girdle. The other
individual, who was a little in advance, was concealed from the
stranger's view. Presently, however, a sudden movement occurred, and
disclosed his features, which were those of a young man of nearly his
own age. The dress of this person was excessively showy, and consisted
of a scarlet riding-habit, lined and faced with blue, and bedizened with
broad gold lace, a green silk-knit waistcoat, embroidered with silver,
and decorated with a deep fringe, together with a hat tricked out in the
same gaudy style. His figure was slight, but well-built; and, in stature
he did not exceed five feet four. His complexion was pale; and there was
something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. His head
was small and bullet-shaped, and he did not wear a wig, but had his
sleek black hair cut off closely round his temples. A mutual recognition
took place at the same instant between the stranger and this individual.
Both started. The latter seemed inclined to advance and address the
former; but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his companion in
tones familiar to the stranger's ear; and, striking spurs into his
steed, dashed off at full speed along the Edgeware Road. Impelled by a
feeling, into which we shall not pause to inquire, the stranger started
after them; but they were better mounted, and soon distanced him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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