“I expect a very extraordinary person to supper, Rachel,” he remarked.

“The gentleman under the table,” she answered.  “He does seem a very extraordinary person.”

“No; another still more extraordinary.”

“Indeed!—­who is it?”

“Jack Sheppard.”

“What! the famous housebreaker.  I thought he was in Newgate.”

“He’s let out for a few hours,” laughed Kneebone; “but he’s going back again after supper.”

“Oh, dear! how I should like to see him.  I’m told he’s so handsome.”

“I’m sorry I can’t indulge you,” replied her master, a little piqued.  “I shall want nothing more.  You had better go to bed.”

“It’s no use going to bed,” answered Rachel.  “I shan’t sleep a wink while Jack Sheppard’s in the house.”

“Keep in your own room, at all events,” rejoined Kneebone.

“Very well,” said Rachel, with a toss of her pretty head, “very well.  I’ll have a peep at him, if I die for it,” she muttered, as she went out.

Mr. Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest.  Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance.  The woollen-draper looked at his watch.  It was eleven o’clock.  Another long interval elapsed.  The watch was again consulted.  It was now a quarter past twelve.  Mr. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles.

“I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won’t come,” he remarked.

“Have a little patience, Sir,” rejoined the jailer.

“How are you off there, Shoplatch?” inquired Kneebone.  “Rather cramped, eh?”

“Rather so, Sir,” replied the other, altering his position.  “I shall be able to stretch my limbs presently—­ha! ha!”

“Hush!” cried Kneebone, “I hear a noise without.  He’s coming.”

The caution was scarcely uttered, when the door opened, and Jack Sheppard presented himself.  He was wrapped in a laced roquelaure, which he threw off on his entrance into the room.  It has been already intimated that Jack had an excessive passion for finery; and it might have been added, that the chief part of his ill-gotten gains was devoted to the embellishment of his person.  On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette.  His apparel was sumptuous in the extreme, and such as was only worn by persons of the highest distinction.  It consisted of a full-dress coat of brown flowered velvet, laced with silver; a waistcoat of white satin, likewise richly embroidered; shoes with red heels, and large diamond buckles; pearl-coloured silk stockings with gold clocks; a muslin cravat, or steen-kirk, as it was termed, edged with the fine point lace; ruffles of the same material, and so ample as almost to hide the tips of his fingers; and a silver-hilted sword.  This costume, though somewhat extravagant, displayed his slight, but perfectly-proportioned figure