“You were there, were you?” He laughed a little impatiently. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. “How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. To be exact, it was just sixteen hours and twenty minutes. She found the silence comforting, as old people often do. Grace-church Street was entirely deserted, except by a few stragglers, whose curiosity got the better of their fears; or who, like the carpenter, were compelled to proceed along it. She would be haunted by the visions of their mad faces in her dreams for the next hundred years. "Good bye!" cried Jack, as if taking leave of his mistresses, "to-morrow, at the same time. It was instantly answered by the deep note of St. The door closed softly upon her.
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