Thames Darrell'S Fears Were Not, However, Groundless. Danger, In The
Form He Apprehended, Was Lurking Outside: Nor Was He Destined To Enjoy
Long Repose. On Receiving The Warning Note From The Ostler, Jack
Sheppard And His Companion Left Willesden, And Taking--As A Blind--The
Direction Of Harrow, Returned At Night-Fall By A By-Lane To Neasdon, And
Put Up At A Little Public-House Called The Spotted Dog. Here They
Remained Till Midnight When, Calling For Their Reckoning And Their
Steeds, They Left The House.
It Was A Night Well-Fitted To Their Enterprise, Calm, Still, And
Profoundly Dark. As They Passed Beneath The Thick Trees That Shade The
Road To Dollis Hill, The Gloom Was Almost Impenetrable. The Robbers
Proceeded Singly, And Kept On The Grass Skirting The Road, So That No
Noise Was Made By Their Horses' Feet.
As They Neared The House, Jack Sheppard, Who Led The Way, Halted And
Addressed His Companion In a Low Voice:--
"I Don'T Half Like This Job, Blueskin," He Said; "It Always Went Against
The Grain. But, Since I'Ve Seen The Friend And Companion Of My
Childhood, Thames Darrell, I'Ve No Heart For It. Shall We Turn Back?"
"And Disappoint Mr. Wild, Captain?" Remonstrated The Other, In a
Deferential Tone. "You Know This Is A Pet Project. It Might Be Dangerous
To Thwart Him."
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