. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. “Number 13, please, cabman. But come in, dear. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. I keep it for my own drinking," he added in a lower tone. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse.
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