Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. "Lor' ha' mussy, Sir!—how you do talk," said the woman; "this is no robber, I'm sure. 266 She peered up at him. " "I'll forgive you all the harm you do me," rejoined the Amazon. "So, you're admiring my cabinet, Sir Rowland," he remarked, with a sinister smile; "it is generally admired; and, sometimes by parties who afterwards contribute to the collection themselves,—ha! ha! This skull," he added, pointing to a fragment of mortality in the case beside them, "once belonged to Tom Sheppard, the father of the lad I spoke of just now. Remember! not a word!" So saying, he huddled the mantle over Wood's shoulders, dashed the lantern to the ground, and extinguished the light. “Are you feeling okay?” “Just fine. Warding off the blows as well as he could with the bar, Jack struck both the horses on the head, and the animals plunged so violently, that they not only prevented their riders from assailing him, but also kept off the hostlers; and, in the confusion that ensued, Jack managed to spring over the fence, and shaped his course across the field in the direction of Sir John Oldcastle's. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck.
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