Mr. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter,
and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. He was followed with
equal celerity by Terence and the widow. Traversing what remained of
Wych Street at a rapid pace, and speeding along Drury Lane, the
trio soon found themselves in Kendrick Yard. When they came to the
round-house, Terry's courage failed him. Such was the terror inspired
by Wild's vindictive character, that few durst face him who had
given him cause for displeasure. Aware that he should incur the
thief-taker's bitterest animosity by what he had done, the watchman,
whose wrath against Quilt Arnold had evaporated during the walk,
thought it more prudent not to hazard a meeting with his master, till
the storm had, in some measure, blown over. Accordingly, having given
Wood such directions as he thought necessary for his guidance, and
received a handsome gratuity in return for his services, he departed.
It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of
Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance
to the round-house. Reconnoitring them through a small grated
loophole, he refused to open the door till they had explained their
business. This, Wood, acting upon Terry's caution, was most unwilling
to do; but, finding he had no alternative, he reluctantly made known
his errand and the bolts were undrawn. Once in, the constable's
manner appeared totally changed. He was now as civil as he had just
been insolent. Apologizing for their detention, he answered the
questions put to him respecting the boys, by positively denying that
any such prisoners had been entrusted to his charge, but offered to
conduct him to every cell in the building to prove the truth of his
assertion. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the
key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he
never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to
follow him, led the way to the inner room. As Wood obeyed, his
foot slipped; and, casting his eyes upon the floor, he perceived
it splashed in several places with blood. From the freshness of the
stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining
chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated,
and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought,
with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many
minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly
butchered. Nor was this impression removed as he stole a glance at
Mrs. Sheppard, and saw from her terrified look that she had made the
same alarming discovery as himself. But it was now too late to turn
back, and, nerving himself for the shock he expected to encounter,
he ventured after his conductor. No sooner had they entered the room
than Sharples, who waited to usher them in, hastily retreated, closed
the door, and turning the key, laughed loudly at the success of his
stratagem.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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