The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. Wood having laid hold of the canvass-bag. As he gazed down into the courts of the prison, he could not help shuddering, lest a false step might precipitate him below. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. " With this, he appeared to pluck up his courage, and stepped forward more boldly. Your own safety—the child's safety—depends upon your candour.
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