“Not quite, Poll,” returned Mr. Sheppard; “but I love you next to her, and both of you better than _Her_,” pointing with the pipe to his mother. “Oh, Heavens!” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “Bravo!” shouted Blueskin. “Tom Sheppard never said a better thing than that--ho! ho!” [Illustration: 054] “Jack,” cried his mother, wringing her hands in distraction, “you'll break my heart!” “Poh! poh!” returned her son; “women don't so easily break their hearts. Do they, Bess?” “Certainly not,” replied the young lady appealed to, “especially about their sons.” “Wretch!” cried Mrs. Sheppard, bitterly. “I say,” retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, “I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. What do you mean by calling me wretch, Madam!” she added marching up to Mrs. Sheppard, and regarding her with an insolent and threatening glance. “Yes--what do you mean, Ma'am?” added Jack, staggering after her. “Come with me, my love, come--come,” cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. “He shan't go,” cried Edgeworth Bess, holding him by the other hand. “Here, Poll, help me!” Thus exhorted, Mrs. Maggot lent her powerful aid, and, between the two, Jack was speedily relieved from all fears of being carried off against his will. Not content with this exhibition of her prowess, the Amazon lifted him up as easily as if he had been an infant, and placed him upon her shoulders, to the infinite delight of the company, and the increased distress of his mother. “Now, let's see who'll dare to take him down,” she cried. “Nobody shall,” cried Mr. Sheppard from his elevated position. “I'm my own master now, and I'll do as I please. I'll turn cracksman, like my father--rob old Wood--he has chests full of money, and I know where they're kept--I'll rob him, and give the swag to you, Poll--I'll--” Jack would have said more; but, losing his balance, he fell to the ground, and, when taken up, he was perfectly insensible. In this state, he was laid upon a bench, to sleep off his drunken fit, while his wretched mother, in spite of her passionate supplications and resistance, was, by Blueskin's command, forcibly ejected from the house, and driven out of the Mint. CHAPTER XV. THE ROBBERY IN WILLESDEN CHURCH.