“Abraham Mendez will like the task,--for he has entertained a hatred to the memory of Thames Darrell ever since he received the wound in the head, when the two lads attempted to break out of St. Giles's round-house. I've despatched him to the New Prison. But I expect him back every minute.” “The New Prison!” exclaimed Sheppard. “What is he gone there for?” “With a message to the turnkey to look after his prisoner,” replied Wild, with a cunning smile. “Jack Sheppard had a visitor, I understand, yesterday, and may make an attempt to escape. It's as well to be on the safe side.” “It is,” replied Jack. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He drew both his pistols, and prepared for a desperate encounter. “There is another mystery I would have solved,” said Trenchard, addressing Wild; “you have told me much, but not enough.” “What do you require further?” asked Jonathan. “The name and rank of Thames Darrell's father,” said the knight. “Another time,” replied the thief-taker, evasively. “I will have it now,” rejoined Trenchard, “or our agreement is void.” “You cannot help yourself, Sir Rowland,” replied Jonathan, contemptuously. “Indeed!” replied the knight, drawing his sword, “the secret, villain, or I will force it from you.” Before Wild could make any reply, the door was thrown violently open, and Abraham Mendez rushed into the room, with a face of the utmost consternation. “He hash eshcaped!” cried the Jew. “Who? Jack!” exclaimed Jonathan. “Yesh,” replied Abraham. “I vent to de New Prish'n, and on wishitin' his shel vid de turnkey, vot should ve find but de shains on de ground, de vinder broken, and Jack and Agevorth Besh gone.” “Damnation!” cried Jonathan, stamping his foot with uncontrollable rage. “I'd rather have given a thousand pounds than this had happened. But he might have broken out of prison, and yet not got over the wall of Clerkenwell Bridewell. Did you search the yard, fool?” “Ve did,” replied Abraham; “and found his fine goat and ruffles torn to shtrips on de shpikes near de creat cate. It vosh plain he vent dat vay.” Jonathan gave utterance to a torrent of imprecations. While he thus vented his rage, the door again opened, and Quilt Arnold rushed into the room, bleeding, and half-dressed. “'Sblood! what's this!” cried Jonathan, in the utmost surprise. “Quilt Arnold, is that you?” “It is, Sir,” sputtered the janizary. “I've been robbed, maltreated, and nearly murdered by Jack Sheppard.” “By Jack Sheppard!” exclaimed the thief-taker. “Yes; and I hope you'll take ample vengeance upon him,” said Quilt. “I will, when I catch him, rely on it,” rejoined Wild. “You needn't go far to do that,” returned Quilt; “there he stands.” “Ay, here I am,” said Jack, throwing off his hat and wig, and marching towards the group, amongst whom there was a general movement of surprise at his audacity. “Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew.”