“Your answer, gem'men?” demanded Sharples.
“Long life to the Markis, and we accept his honourable proposal,”
responded the mob.
“Long life to the Marquis!” reiterated Terence; “he's an honour to
ould Ireland!”
“Didn't I tell you how it would be?” remarked Quilt.
“Troth, and so did you,” returned the watchman; “but I couldn't
belave it. In futur', I'll keep the 'Evenin' Star' for his lordship's
enemies.”
“You'd better,” replied Quilt. “But bring your glim this way. I've a
couple of kinchens in yonder rattler, whom I wish to place under old
Sharples's care.”
“Be handy, then,” rejoined Terence, “or, I'll lose my share of the
smart money.”
With the assistance of Terence, and a linkboy who volunteered his
services, Quilt soon removed the prisoners from the coach, and
leaving Sheppard to the custody of Abraham, proceeded to drag Thames
towards the round-house. Not a word had been exchanged between
the two boys on the road. Whenever Jack attempted to speak, he was
checked by an angry growl from Abraham; and Thames, though his
heart was full almost to bursting, felt no inclination to break the
silence. His thoughts, indeed, were too painful for utterance, and
so acute were his feelings, that, for some time, they quite overcame
him. But his grief was of short duration. The elastic spirits of
youth resumed their sway; and, before the coach stopped, his tears
had ceased to flow. As to Jack Sheppard, he appeared utterly reckless
and insensible, and did nothing but whistle and sing the whole way.
While he was dragged along in the manner just described, Thames
looked around to ascertain, if possible, where he was; for he did
not put entire faith in Jonathan's threat of sending him to
the round-house, and apprehensive of something even worse than
imprisonment. The aspect of the place, so far as he could discern
through the gloom, was strange to him; but chancing to raise his eyes
above the level of the surrounding habitations, he beheld, relieved
against the sombre sky, the tall steeple of Saint Giles's church, the
precursor of the present structure, which was not erected till some
fifteen years later. He recognised this object at once. Jonathan had
not deceived him.
“What's this here kinchen _in_ for?” asked Terence, as he and Quilt
strode along, with Thames between them.
“What for?” rejoined Quilt, evasively.
“Oh! nothin' partickler--mere curossity,” replied Terence. “By the
powers!” he added, turning his lantern full upon the face of the
captive, “he's a nice genn-teel-lookin' kiddy, I must say. Pity he's
ta'en to bad ways so airly.”
“You may spare me your compassion, friend,” observed Thames; “I am
falsely detained.”
“Of course,” rejoined Quilt, maliciously; “every thief is so. If we
were to wait till a prig was rightfully nabbed, we might tarry till
doomsday. We never supposed you helped yourself to a picture set with
diamonds--not we!”
“Is the guv'ner consarned in this job?” asked Terence, in a whisper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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