“My negligence, Mr. Wild,” said the turnkey, trembling in every joint.  “I assure you, Sir, when I left him an hour ago, it was locked.  I tried it myself, Sir.  I’m as much astonished as you.  But I can’t account for it!”

“At all events, you shall answer for it,” thundered Wild, with a bitter imprecation.

“He’s not to blame,” said Jack, rising.  “I opened the padlock with this crooked nail, which I found in the floor.  If you had arrived ten minutes later, or if there hadn’t been an iron bar in the chimney, that hindered my progress, I should have been beyond your reach.”

“You talk boldly,” replied Wild.  “Go to the Iron Hold, Austin, and tell two of the partners to bring another padlock of the largest size, and the heaviest handcuffs they can find.  We’ll try whether he’ll get loose again.”

Sheppard said nothing, but a disdainful smile curled his lips.

Austin departed, and presently afterwards returned with the two subordinate officers, each of whom wore a leathern apron round his waist, and carried a large hammer.  As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner’s wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew.

“Leave me alone with him a moment,” said Jonathan.  And the jailers also retired.

“Jack,” said Wild, with a glance of malignant triumph, “I will now tell you what I have done.  All my plans have succeeded.  Before a month has elapsed, your mother will be mine.  The Trenchard estates will likewise be mine, for Sir Rowland is no more, and the youth, Thames, will never again see daylight.  Blueskin, who had evaded me with the papers and the money, is a prisoner here, and will perish on the same gallows as yourself.  My vengeance is completely gratified.”

Without waiting for a reply, but darting a malevolent look at the prisoner, he quitted the cell, the door of which was instantly double-locked and bolted.

“I’ve not quite done yet,” said Jonathan, as he joined the turnkeys.  “I should like to see whether Blueskin is a little more composed.  I’ve a question to ask him.  Give me the keys and the light.  I’ll go alone.”

So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—­for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison—­arrived at the cell of which he was in search.  Selecting a key from the heavy bunch committed to him by Austin, he threw open the door, and beheld Blueskin seated at the back of the small chamber, handcuffed, and with his feet confined in a heavy pair of stocks.  He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed.  But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows.

“What do you want?” he asked, in a gruff voice.

“I want to know what you’ve done with the rest of the notes—­with the gold—­and the papers you took away from my room!” rejoined Wild.