His mother's scream seemed again to ring in his ears, and he was so deeply affected that, fearful of exciting attention, he was about to quit the sacred edifice, when he was stopped by the entrance of Thames, who looked pale as death, with Winifred leaning on his arm. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. A narrow entry, formed by two low walls, communicated with the main thoroughfare; and in this passage, under the cover of a penthouse, stood Wood, with his little burthen, to whom we shall now return. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. I can never be grateful enough. There’s sure to be a place somewhere.
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