“How are you?” He asked, realizing she was unnerved by the very sound of his voice. I suppose this is the sort of damned rubbish—” “Oh! Ssh, Peter!” cried Miss Stanley. The knight, who could ill brook this familiarity, instantly arose. Jonathan had not deceived him. At the period of this history, the main streets of the metropolis were but imperfectly lighted, while the less-frequented avenues were left in total obscurity; but, even at the present time, the maze of courts and alleys into which Wild now plunged, would have perplexed any one, not familiar with their intricacies, to thread them on a dark night. Jonathan Wild and his bloodhounds, with a hundred others, incited by the reward, will be upon my track. I’ve—dreads. Thus died Jack Sheppard.
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