As familiar as Quilt Arnold himself with every part of Wild’s mysterious abode, as well as with the ways of its inmates, Jack, without a moment’s hesitation, took up a lamp which was burning in the hall, and led his companion up the great stone stairs.  Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—­“Sir Rowland Trenchard.”

Jonathan, who was engaged in conversation with Blueskin, instantly arose, and bowed with cringing ceremoniousness to the knight.  The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair.

“You’ve arrived sooner than I expected, Sir Rowland,” observed the thief-taker.  “Lost no time on the road—­eh!—­I didn’t expect you till to-morrow at the earliest.  Excuse me an instant while I dismiss this person.—­You’ve your answer, Blueskin,” he added, pushing that individual, who seemed unwilling to depart, towards the door; “it’s useless to urge the matter further.  Jack is registered in the Black Book.”

“One word before I go,” urged Blueskin.

“Not a syllable,” replied Wild.  “If you talk as long as an Old Bailey counsel, you’ll not alter my determination.”

“Won’t my life do as well as his?” supplicated the other.

“Humph!” exclaimed Jonathan, doubtfully.  “And you would surrender yourself—­eh?”

“I’ll surrender myself at once, if you’ll engage to bring him off; and you’ll get the reward from old Wood.  It’s two hundred pounds.  Recollect that.”

“Faithful fellow!” murmured Jack.  “I forgive him his disobedience.”

“Will you do it?” persisted Blueskin.

“No,” replied Wild; “and I’ve only listened to your absurd proposal to see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you.”

“I do love him,” cried Blueskin, “and that’s the long and short of it.  I’ve taught him all he can do; and there isn’t his fellow, and never will be again.  I’ve seen many a clever cracksman, but never one like him.  If you hang Jack Sheppard, you’ll cut off the flower o’ the purfession.  But I’ll not believe it of you.  It’s all very well to read him a lesson, and teach him obedience; but you’ve gone far enough for that.”

“Not quite,” rejoined the thief-taker, significantly.

“Well,” growled Blueskin, “you’ve had my offer.”

“And you my warning,” retorted Wild.  “Good night!”

“Blueskin,” whispered Jack, in his natural tones, as the other passed him, “wait without.”

“Power o’ mercy!” cried Blueskin starting.

“What’s the matter?” demanded Jonathan, harshly.

“Nothin’—­nothin’,” returned Blueskin; “only I thought—­”

“You saw the hangman, no doubt,” said Jack.  “Take courage, man; it is only Quilt Arnold.  Come, make yourself scarce.  Don’t you see Mr. Wild’s busy.”  And then he added, in an under tone, “Conceal yourself outside, and be within call.”