This placard attracted universal attention.  While Jonathan was conversing with Austin, from whom he took care to conceal the fact of his having seen Sheppard since his escape, Ireton entered the Lodge.

“Altogether unsuccessful, Sir,” said the chief turnkey, with a look of disappointment, not unmixed with apprehension, as he approached Wild.  “I’ve been to all the flash cases in town, and can hear nothing of him or his wives.  First, I went to Country Tom’s, the Goat, in Long Lane.  Tom swore he hadn’t set eyes on him since the trial.  I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch’s, the Ship, in Trig Lane—­there I got the same answer.  Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane.  Then to the Golden Ball, in the same street.  Then to Martin’s brandy-shop, in Fleet Street.  Then to Dan Ware’s, in Hanging Sword Court.  Then to the Dean’s Head, in St. Martin’s Le Grand.  And, lastly, to the Seven Cities o’ Refuge, in the New Mint.  And nowhere could I obtain the slightest information.”

“Humph!” exclaimed Wild.

“Have you been more successful, Sir?” ventured Ireton.

Jonathan shook his head.

“Mr. Shotbolt thinks he has a scheme that can’t fail,” interposed Austin; “but he wishes to know whether you’ll be as good as your word, in respect to the great reward you offered for Jack’s capture.”

“Have I ever broken my word in such matters, that he dares put the question?” rejoined Jonathan sternly.  “Tell Mr. Shotbolt that if he, or any other person, takes Jack Sheppard before to-morrow morning, I’ll double it.  Do you hear?”

“I do, Sir,” replied Austin respectfully.

“Two hundred pounds, if he’s lodged in Newgate before to-morrow morning,” continued Wild.  “Make it known among your friends.”  And he strode out of the place.

“Two hundred pounds!” exclaimed Ireton, “besides the governor’s offer—­that’s three hundred.  I must go to work again.  Keep a sharp look out, Austin, and see that we lose no one else.  I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward.”

“Devilish hard!  I’m not allowed a chance,” grumbled Austin, as he was left alone.  “However, some one must look after the jail; and they’re all gone but me.  It’s fortunate we’ve no more Jack Sheppards, or I should stand but a poor chance.  Well, I don’t think they’ll any of ’em nab him, that’s one comfort.”

On quitting the Lodge, Wild repaired to his own habitation.  Telling the porter that he would attend to the house himself, he bade him go in search of Jack Sheppard.  There was something in Jonathan’s manner, as he issued this command, that struck the man as singular, and he afterwards recalled it.  He, however, made no remark at the time, but instantly prepared to set out.  As soon as he was gone, Jonathan went up stairs to the audience-chamber; and, sitting down, appeared for some time buried in reflection.  The dark and desperate thoughts that were passing through his mind at this time will presently be shown.  After a while, he raised his eyes; and, if their glance could have been witnessed at the moment, it could not have been easily forgotten.  Muttering something to himself, he appeared to be telling upon his fingers the advantages and disadvantages of some scheme he had in contemplation.  That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,—­