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Updated: June 27, 2025
She trembled too, and was unable to give her evidence. When sentence was passed there wasn't a dry eye in the court." "Yes, there was one," observed Ireton. "I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. "Mr. Wild's." "Right," answered Ireton. "It's strange the antipathy he bears to Sheppard. I was standing near Jack at that awful moment, and beheld the look Wild fixed on him.
Spurling and Austin at their evening meal, with Caliban in attendance. "Well, Mr. Shotbolt," cried the turnkey, "I've good news for you. Mr. Wild has doubled his offer, and the governor has likewise proclaimed a reward of one hundred guineas for Jack's apprehension." "You don't say so!" exclaimed Shotbolt. "Read that," rejoined Austin, pointing to the placard. "I ought to tell you that Mr.
As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager. Unconscious that his movements were watched, Shotbolt, meanwhile, hastened towards Wych Street. On the way, he hired a chair with a couple of stout porters, and ordered them to follow him.
So saying, he rushed out, followed by Ireton and Langley. "A hundred pounds!" exclaimed Shotbolt. "That's a glorious reward. Do you think he'll pay it?" "I'm sure of it," replied Austin. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. "If Jack Sheppard sups with Mr. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party." Dollis Hill revisited.
As this gentleman was going away, he said to Jack in a jesting manner, 'that he should be glad to see him to-night at supper. Upon which the other answered, 'that he accepted his invitation with pleasure, and would make a point of waiting upon him, Ha! ha! ha!" "Did he say so?" cried Shotbolt. "Then I advise you to look sharply after him, Mr.
Wild's reward is conditional upon Jack's being taken before to-morrow morning. So I fear there's little chance of any one getting it." "You think so, eh?" chuckled Shotbolt, who was eagerly perusing the reward, and congratulating himself upon his caution; "you think so ha! ha! Well, don't go to bed, that's all." "What for?" demanded the turnkey.
"Not in the least, Sir," replied Tom, in a drowsy tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed them. "Now, step this way, Mr. What's-your-name?" "Shotbolt, Sir," replied the jailer. "Very well, Mr. Slipshod; follow me." And he led the way to an inner room, in the middle of which stood a table, covered with a large white cloth.
"My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment. "Get ready your heaviest irons, Austin. I'll send you word when I catch him." "You'd better send him," jeered the turnkey. "So I will," rejoined Shotbolt; "so I will. If I don't, you shall clap me in the Condemned Hold in his stead. Good-bye, for the pressent ha! ha!"
Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. In the struggle the pistol went off, but without damage to either party.
"Now Sir," he added, glancing suspiciously at the applicant "your business?" "My business is to acquaint you that Jack Sheppard has escaped, Mr. Kneebone," returned Shotbolt. "The deuce he has! Why, it's only a few hours since I beheld him chained down with half a hundred weight of iron, in the strongest ward at Newgate. It's almost incredible. Are you sure you're not misinformed, Sir?"
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