“I can't say,” answered the fellow; “but I'll inquire from the sexton, William Morgan. Here, Peter,” he added to a curly-headed lad, who was playing on one of the grassy tombs, “ask your father to step this way.” The little urchin set off, and presently returned with the sexton. “It's Mrs. Sheppard's grave,--the mother of the famous housebreaker,” said Morgan, in answer to Jack's inquiry;--“and it's well they let her have Christian burial after all--for they say she destroyed herself for her son. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday--and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends.” Jack could stand no more. Placing a piece of money in Morgan's hands, he hurried out of the churchyard. “By my soul,” said the sexton, “that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days.” Hastening to the Six Bells, Jack ordered some refreshment, and engaged a private room, where he remained till the afternoon absorbed in grief. Meantime, a change had taken place in the weather. The day had become suddenly overcast. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. Just then, a carriage drawn by four horses, drove furiously up to the Six Bells; but Jack was too much absorbed to take any notice of it. At this moment, the bell began to toll in a peculiar manner, announcing the approach of the corpse. The gate was opened; the coffin brought into the churchyard; and Jack, whose eyes were filled with tears, saw Mr. Wood and Thames pass him, and followed at a foot's pace behind them. Meanwhile, the clergyman, bare-headed and in his surplice, advanced to meet them. Having read the three first verses of the impressive service appointed for the burial of the dead, he returned to the church, whither the coffin was carried through the south-western door, and placed in the centre of the aisle--Mr. Wood and Thames taking their places on either side of it, and Jack at a little distance behind. Jack had been touched in the morning, but he was now completely prostrated. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. His grief was so audible, that it attracted the notice of some of the bystanders, and Thames was obliged to beg him to control it. In doing this, he chanced to raise his eyes and half fancied he beheld, shaded by a pillar at the extremity of the western aisle, the horrible countenance of the thief-taker. Before the congregation separated, the clergyman descended from the pulpit; and, followed by the coffin-bearers and mourners, and by Jack at a respectful distance, entered the churchyard.