The carpenter, upon whom no part of this hurried dialogue had been
lost, now made his appearance, and having obtained from Terence all
the information which that personage could impart respecting the
perilous situation of Thames, he declared himself ready to start
to Saint Giles's at once, and ran back to the room for his hat
and stick; expressing his firm determination, as he pocketed his
constable's staff with which he thought it expedient to arm himself,
of being direfully revenged upon the thief-taker: a determination in
which he was strongly encouraged by his wife. Terence, meanwhile, who
had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story,
for the benefit of Mrs. Sheppard. The poor widow was thrown into an
agony of distress on learning that a robbery had been committed,
in which her son (for she could not doubt that Jack was one of the
boys,) was implicated; nor was her anxiety alleviated by Mrs. Wood,
who maintained stoutly, that if Thames had been led to do wrong, it
must be through the instrumentality of his worthless companion.
“And there you're right, you may dipind, marm,” observed Terence.
“Master Thames Ditt--what's his blessed name?--has honesty written
in his handsome phiz; but as to his companion, Jack Sheppard, I think
you call him, he's a born and bred thief. Lord bless you marm! we
sees plenty on 'em in our purfession. Them young prigs is all alike.
I seed he was one,--and a sharp un, too,--at a glance.”
“Oh!” exclaimed the widow, covering her face with her hands.
“Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman,” said Wood, pouring
out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his
lips as he disposed of it. “Won't you be persuaded, Joan?” he
added, making a similar offer to Mrs. Sheppard, which she gratefully
declined. “If you mean to accompany us, you may need it.”
“You are very kind, Sir,” returned the widow, “but I require no
support. Nothing stronger than water has passed my lips for years.”
“We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose,” observed
the carpenter's wife, with a sneer. “Mr. Wood,” she continued, in
an authoritative tone, seeing her husband ready to depart, “one word
before you set out. If Jack Sheppard or his mother ever enter this
house again, I leave it--that's all. Now, do what you please. You
know _my_ fixed determination.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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