This—’ waving an imperious hand in a sweeping arc about the library ‘—is my house. Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. Ha! ha! ha!" "Jack!" exclaimed Thames, angrily. ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. He looked at it eagerly, but made no movement to take it. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence.
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