A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. I must say what I have to say!” “But not now—not here. You were accused of having been seen with the latter. “Run in now. You have not forgotten——” “I have forgotten nothing?” he answered, enigmatically. ‘Do you need an excuse?’ ‘Oh, you know what doctors are. What more was to be done? Frith’s investigations had proved fruitful, and the man was now keeping an eye on Valade. Her roving eagerness was at all times shaded with shyness, reserve, repression. “What have you done to yourself?” he muttered. But—if you are a friend of Mr.
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