“That was the lad’s name,” returned the stranger.

“I guessed from your dress and manner, Sir, that you must have been long absent from your own country,” said Kneebone; “and now I’m convinced of it, or you wouldn’t have asked that question.  Jack Sheppard is the talk and terror of the whole town.  The ladies can’t sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren’t go to bed at all.  He’s the most daring and expert housebreaker that ever used a crow-bar.  He laughs at locks and bolts; and the more carefully you guard your premises from him, the more likely are you to insure an attack.  His exploits and escapes are in every body’s mouth.  He has been lodged in every round-house in the metropolis, and has broken out of them all, and boasts that no prison can hold him.  We shall see.  His skill has not been tried.  At present, he is under the protection of Jonathan Wild.”

“Does that villain still maintain his power?” asked the stranger sternly.

“He does,” replied Kneebone, “and, what is more surprising, it seems to increase.  Jonathan completely baffles and derides the ends of justice.  It is useless to contend with him, even with right on your side.  Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild’s machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders.  I charged the thief-taker, as was the fact, with having robbed me, by means of the lad Sheppard, whom he instigated to deed, of the very pocket-book he produced in evidence against me; but it was of no avail—­I couldn’t obtain a hearing.  Mr. Wood fared still worse.  Bribed by a certain Sir Rowland Trenchard, Jonathan kidnapped the carpenter’s adopted son, Thames Darrell, and placed him in the hands of a Dutch Skipper, with orders to throw him overboard when he got out to sea; and though this was proved as clear as day, the rascal managed matters so adroitly, and gave such a different complexion to the whole affair, that he came off with flying colours.  One reason, perhaps, of his success in this case might be, that having arrested his associate in the dark transaction, Sir Rowland Trenchard, on a charge of high treason, he was favoured by Walpole, who found his account in retaining such an agent.  Be this as it may, Jonathan remained the victor; and shortly afterwards,—­at the price of a third of his estate, it was whispered,—­he procured Trenchard’s liberation from confinement.”

At the mention of the latter occurrence, a dark cloud gathered upon the stranger’s brow.

“Do you know anything further of Sir Rowland?” he asked.

“Nothing more than this,” answered Kneebone,—­“that after the failure of his projects, and the downfall of his party, he retired to his seat, Ashton Hall, near Manchester, and has remained there ever since, entirely secluded from the world.”

The stranger was for a moment lost in reflection.