Without another word, and accompanied by Thames, he then took his way to Dollis Hill in a state of the deepest depression.  Thames did not attempt to offer him any consolation, for he was almost as much dejected.  The weather harmonized with their feelings.  It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect.

On his arrival at Dollis Hill, Mr. Wood was so much exhausted that he was obliged to retire to his own room, where he continued for some hours overpowered by grief.  The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother.

As the night advanced, Mr. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter’s earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment.  An hour was then passed in conversation as to the possibility of rendering any assistance to Jack; in deploring his unhappy destiny; and in the consideration of the course to be pursued in reference to Jonathan Wild.

While they were thus occupied, a maid-servant entered the room, and stated that a person was without who had a packet for Captain Darrell, which must be delivered into his own hands.  Notwithstanding the remonstrances of Wood and Winifred, Thames instantly followed the domestic, and found a man, with his face muffled up, at the door, as she had described.  Somewhat alarmed at his appearance, Thames laid his hand upon his sword.

“Fear nothing, Sir,” said the man, in a voice which Thames instantly recognised as that of Blueskin.  “I am come to render you a service.  There are the packets which my Captain hazarded his life to procure for you, and which he said would establish your right to the estates of the Trenchard family.  There are also the letters which were scattered about Wild’s room after the murder of Sir Rowland.  And there,” he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocket-book, “is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds.”

“How have you procured these things?” asked Thames, in the utmost astonishment.

“I carried them off on the fatal night when we got into Wild’s house, and you were struck down,” replied Blueskin.  “They have ever since been deposited in a place of safety.  You have nothing more to fear from Wild.”

“How so?” asked Thames.

“I have saved the executioner a labour, by cutting his throat,” replied Blueskin.  “And, may I be cursed if I ever did anything in my whole life which gave me so much satisfaction.”

“Almighty God! is this possible?” exclaimed Thames.

“You will find it true,” replied Blueskin.  “All I regret is, that I failed in liberating the Captain.  If he had got off, they might have hanged me, and welcome.”

“What can be done for him?” cried Thames.

“That’s not an easy question to answer,” rejoined Blueskin.  “But I shall watch night and day about Newgate, in the hope of getting him out.  He wouldn’t require my aid, but before I stopped Jonathan’s mouth, he had ordered him to be doubly-ironed, and constantly watched.  And, though the villain can’t see his orders executed, I’ve no doubt some one else will.”