“Hush!” cried Kneebone, “I hear a noise without. He's coming.” The caution was scarcely uttered, when the door opened, and Jack Sheppard presented himself. He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room. It has been already intimated that Jack had an excessive passion for finery; and it might have been added, that the chief part of his ill-gotten gains was devoted to the embellishment of his person. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction. It consisted of a full-dress coat of brown flowered velvet, laced with silver; a waistcoat of white satin, likewise richly embroidered; shoes with red heels, and large diamond buckles; pearl-coloured silk stockings with gold clocks; a muslin cravat, or steen-kirk, as it was termed, edged with the fine point lace; ruffles of the same material, and so ample as almost to hide the tips of his fingers; and a silver-hilted sword. This costume, though somewhat extravagant, displayed his slight, but perfectly-proportioned figure to the greatest advantage. The only departure which he made from the fashion of the period, was in respect to the peruke--an article he could never be induced to wear. In lieu of it, he still adhered to the sleek black crop, which, throughout life, formed a distinguishing feature in his appearance. Ever since the discovery of his relationship to the Trenchard family, a marked change had taken place in Jack's demeanour and looks, which were so much refined and improved that he could scarcely be recognised as the same person. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. “I am expected, I find,” observed Jack, glancing at the well-covered board. “You are,” replied Kneebone. “When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you.” “You judged rightly,” rejoined Jack; “I never yet broke an engagement with friend or foe--and never will.” “A bold resolution,” said the woollen-draper. “You must have made some exertion to keep your present appointment. Few men could have done as much.” “Perhaps not,” replied Jack, carelessly. “I would have done more, if necessary.” “Well, take a chair,” rejoined Kneebone. “I've waited supper, you perceive.” “First, let me introduce my friends,” returned Jack, stepping to the door. “Friends!” echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay. “My invitation did not extend to them.”