" "Oh Heavens!" cried Jack, driven to his wits' end. You could walk the city streets and with every blink you could take in a new sight of beauty so great that your heart would weep for it. "Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. "No, no, let him alone," interposed Wood. Sheppard's good health, and success to him!" Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and, as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view was no longer obstructed. As the body was borne to the house in the arms of the farming-men, Mr. A carpenter's daughter is no fit match for a peer of France. I'll put a brace of dogs on your track, who'll soon hunt you down. Sheppard.
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