It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. Wait a moment. Was she so fearful still? Roding shrugged and grimaced. I will take you for thirty-five shillings a week. Many’s the bullets I’ve dug out of fellows in my time.
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