"True," replied Wild. ” She said, and ducked back into her room. ‘Until today. From a scout stationed at the northern entrance, whom she addressed in the jargon of the place, with which long usage had formerly rendered her familiar, she ascertained that Blueskin, accompanied by a youth, whom she knew by the description must be her son, had arrived there about three hours before, and had proceeded to the Cross Shovels. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. "You were watched to-night by Blueskin. " "Zounds!" exclaimed Wood; "it's my old master-key. When she had finished the first tale, there was a sense of disappointment. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Since Jack has left us, what does it matter whether he's pleased or not?" At this moment, a whistle was heard.
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