” Anna’s eyes were a little dim as she poured out her coffee, and the laugh she attempted was not altogether a success. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. PELLISSIER. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. ” “Tut!” he said, fuming, and put out his hand to the papers in the pink tape. A wooden balcony in one of the adjoining houses was thronged with ladies, all of whom appeared to take a lively interest in the scene, and to be full of commiseration for the criminal, not, perhaps, unmixed with admiration of his appearance. CHAPTER IV.
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