Professing to stand between the robber and the robbed, he himself plundered both. . They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. There is worse to come. The fellow swore lustily, in a voice which Jack instantly recognised as that of Quilt Arnold, and vainly attempted to rise and draw his sword. You, Jack Sheppard, have nothing to fear, as you've become evidence against your accomplice. Very gently indeed, Alderley grasped the handle of the door and stealthily turned it.
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