Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. Ireton, and his two satellites, Austin and Langley. ‘Burned them, one by one, right before that fellow’s eyes. Having ascertained that a vessel sails for France from the river at daybreak to-morrow morning, I have secured a passage in her, and have already had the few effects I possess, conveyed on board. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better.
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