He's a hundred miles sou'-east of me. There was a hint of tears in her voice. "Whatever you like, Hoddy," she agreed, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “What on earth did you expect me to do, then?” he asked. His pulses beat fast as he walked, his feet fell lightly upon the pavement. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. His curiosity put itself into a question. Without inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and fulfilled his design—for, however rash or hazardous a project might be, if once conceived, Jack always executed it,—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in the Old Bailey.
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