In vain he fondly urged his suit, And, all in vain, the question put; She answered,--“Mr. William Kneebone, Of me, Sir, you shall never be bone.” _With your foodle doo_! “Thames Darrell has my heart alone, A noble youth, e'en _you_ must own; And, if from him my love could stir, Jack Sheppard I should much prefer!” _With his foodle doo_! “Do you refuse my toast?” cried Jack, impatiently. “I do,” replied Kneebone. “Drink this, then,” roared Blueskin. And pouring the contents of a small powder-flask into a bumper of brandy, he tendered him the mixture. At this juncture, the door was opened by Rachel. “What did you ring for, Sir?” she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment. “Your master wants a few table-spoons, child,” said Mrs. Maggot. “Leave the room,” interposed Kneebone, angrily. “No, I shan't,” replied Rachel, saucily. “I came to see Jack Sheppard, and I won't go till you point him out to me. You told me he was going back to Newgate after supper, so I mayn't have another opportunity.” “Oh! he told you that, did he?” said Blueskin, marching up to her, and chucking her under the chin. “I'll show you Captain Sheppard, my dear. There he stands. I'm his lieutenant,--Lieutenant Blueskin. We're two good-looking fellows, ain't we?” “Very good-looking,” replied Rachel. “But, where's the strange gentleman I saw under the table?” “Under the table!” echoed Blueskin, winking at Jack. “When did you see him, my love?” “A short time ago,” replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. “The plot's out!” cried Jack. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. The crash was tremendous. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. And, if Rachel had not carried a candle, the room would have been plunged in total darkness. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. He was speedily disarmed; and the rope and gag being found upon him, were exultingly turned against him by his conqueror, who, after pinioning his arms tightly behind his back, forced open his mouth with the iron, and effectually prevented the utterance of any further outcries. While the strife was raging, Edgeworth Bess walked up to Rachel, and advised her, if she valued her life, not to scream or stir from the spot; a caution which the housekeeper, whose curiosity far outweighed her fears, received in very good part. In the interim, Jack advanced to the woollen-draper, and regarding him sternly, thus addressed him: