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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. My whole life shall be devoted to you, beloved girl. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me." "Sir!" exclaimed Winifred.
"A bold resolution," said the woollen-draper. "You must have made some exertion to keep your present appointment. Few men could have done as much." "Perhaps not," replied Jack, carelessly. "I would have done more, if necessary." "Well, take a chair," rejoined Kneebone. "I've waited supper, you perceive." "First, let me introduce my friends," returned Jack, stepping to the door.
"The gentleman is a stranger to me, Poll," replied the woollen-draper, with increased embarrassment. "I don't know his name." And he looked at the moment as if he had lost all desire to know it. "Well, he's a pretty fellow at all events," observed Mrs. Maggot, eyeing him from head to heel with evident satisfaction; "a devilish pretty fellow!"
"Jack Sheppard knows this house, I believe, Sir," observed Shotbolt. "Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. "He ought to do, seeing that he served his apprenticeship in it to Mr. Wood, by whom it was formerly occupied. His name is carved upon a beam up stairs." "Indeed!" said Shotbolt. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet. "Under the table.
If Winifred remained silent, her looks would have disarmed a person of less assurance than the woollen-draper. "If you knew how much importance I attach to your answer," he continued passionately, "you would not refuse me one. Were Captain Darrell to offer you his hand, would you accept it?"
A stiff, formally-cut coat of cinnamon-coloured cloth, with rows of plate buttons, each of the size of a crown piece, on the sleeves, pockets, and skirts, reached the middle of his legs; and his costume was completed by the silver-hilted sword at his side, and the laced hat under his left arm. Bowing to the stranger, the woollen-draper very politely requested to know his business.
The storm appeared to have blown over, for they were conversing in a very amicable manner with Mr. Kneebone, who was on the point of departing. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper.
Captain Kneebone! we must trouble you to accompany us." "I've no intention of stirring," replied the woollen-draper, who was thus unceremoniously disturbed: "and I beg you'll sit down, Mr. Jackson." "Come, Sir!" thundered the latter, "no trifling! Perhaps," he added, opening a warrant, "you'll obey this mandate?" "A warrant!" ejaculated Kneebone, starting to his feet.
"I was in the Lodge at the time," replied the jailer. "Then, of course, you must know. Well, it's scarcely credible. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. But, egad! I believe he will." "I'm convinced of it," replied Shotbolt; "and it was on that very account I came here." And he proceeded to unfold his scheme to the woollen-draper.
"In the name of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere, I implore you to answer me," urged Kneebone, "why why would you not accept him?" "Because our positions are different," replied Winifred, who could not resist this appeal to her feelings. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers.
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