“She has suffered enough for you,” said Wood.

“She has, she has,” said Jack, in a broken voice.

“Weep on, reprobate,” cried the carpenter, a little softened.  “Those tears will do you good.”

“Do not distress him, dear father,” said Winifred; “he suffers deeply.  Oh, Jack! repent, while it is yet time, of your evil conduct.  I will pray for you.”

“I cannot repent,—­I cannot pray,” replied Jack, recovering his hardened demeanour.  “I should never have been what I am, but for you.”

“How so?” inquired Winifred.

“I loved you,” replied Jack,—­“don’t start—­it is over now—­I loved you, I say, as a boy. hopelessly, and it made me desperate.  And now I find, when it is too late, that I might have deserved you—­that I am as well born as Thames Darrell.  But I mustn’t think of these things, or I shall grow mad.  I have said your life is in danger, Thames.  Do not slight my warning.  Sir Rowland Trenchard is aware of your return to England.  I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild’s, after my escape from the New Prison.  He had just arrived from Manchester, whence he had been summoned by that treacherous thief-taker.  I overheard them planning your assassination.  It is to take place to-night.”

“O Heavens!” screamed Winifred, while her father lifted up his hands in silent horror.

“And when I further tell you,” continued Jack, “that, after yourself and my mother, I am the next heir to the estates of my grandfather, Sir Montacute Trenchard, you will perhaps own that my caution is sufficiently disinterested.”

“Could I credit your wild story, I might do so,” returned Thames, with a look of perplexity.

“Here are Jonathan Wild’s written instructions to Quilt Arnold,” rejoined Sheppard, producing the pocket-book he had found in the janizary’s clothes.  “This letter will vouch for me that a communication has taken place between your enemies.”

Thames glanced at the despatch, and, after a moment’s reflection, inquired, “In what way is the attempt upon my life to be made?”

“That I couldn’t ascertain,” replied Jack; “but I advise you to be upon your guard.  For aught I know, they may be in the neighbourhood at this moment.”

“Here!” ejaculated Wood, with a look of alarm.  “Oh lord!  I hope not.”

“This I do know,” continued Jack,—­“Jonathan Wild superintends the attack.”

“Jonathan Wild!” repeated the carpenter, trembling.  “Then it’s all over with us.  Oh dear!—­how sorry I am I ever left Wych Street.  We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser.”

“There’s some one in the garden at this moment,” cried Jack; “I saw a face at the window.”

“Where—­where?” cried Thames.

“Don’t stir,” replied Jack.  “I will at once convince you of the truth of my assertions, and ascertain whether the enemy really is at hand.”