“Farewell!” cried Jack, embracing them. “Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. On seeing it, he'll deliver you a box, which it will unlock, and in which you'll find a matter of fifty guineas and a few trinkets. Divide the money between you, and wear the ornaments for my sake. But, if you've a spark of love for me, don't meddle with anything in that house.” “Not for worlds!” exclaimed both ladies together. “Farewell!” cried Jack, breaking from them, and rushing down the street. “What shall we do, Poll?” hesitated Edgeworth Bess. “Go in, to be sure, simpleton,” replied Mrs. Maggot, “and bring off all we can. I know where everything valuable is kept. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?” At this moment, a whistle was heard. “Coming!” cried Blueskin, who was still lingering with Rachel. “The Captain's in such a desperate hurry, that there's no time for love-making. Adieu! my charmer. You'll find those young ladies extremely agreeable acquaintances. Adieu!” And, snatching a hasty kiss, he darted after Jack. The chair, meanwhile, with its unhappy load, was transported at a brisk pace to Newgate. Arrived there, the porter thundered at the massive door of the Lodge, which was instantly opened--Shotbolt's note having been received just before. All the turnkeys were assembled. Ireton and Langley had returned from a second unsuccessful search; Marvel had come thither to bid good-night to Mrs. Spurling; Austin had never quitted his post. The tapstress was full of curiosity; but she appeared more easy than the others. Behind her stood Caliban, chuckling to himself, and grinning from ear to ear. “Well, who'd have thought of Shotbolt beating us all in this way!” said Ireton. “I'm sorry for old Newgate that another jail should have it. It's infernally provoking.” “Infernally provoking!” echoed Langley. “Nobody has so much cause for complaint as me,” growled Austin. “I've lost my wager.” “Twenty pounds,” rejoined Mrs. Spurling. “I witnessed the bet.” “Here he is!” cried Ireton, as the knocking was heard without. “Get ready the irons, Caliban.” “Wait a bit, massa,” replied the grinning negro,--“lilly bit--see all right fust.” By this time, the chair had been brought into the Lodge. “You've got him?” demanded Ireton. “Safe inside,” replied the chairman, wiping the heat from his brow; “we've run all the way.” “Where's Mr. Shotbolt?” asked Austin. “The gen'l'man'll be here directly. He was detained. T' other gen'l'man said the letter 'ud explain all.” “Detained!” echoed Marvel. “That's odd. But, let's see the prisoner.” The chair was then opened. “Shotbolt! by--” cried Austin, as the captive was dragged forth. “I've won, after all.” Exclamations of wonder burst from all. Mrs. Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. Caliban absolutely crowed with delight.