From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him.

“Aha!” exclaimed Jack, with a roguish wink, “I’ve caught you,—­have I?”

The carpenter’s daughter was fair and free—­
Fair, and fickle, and false, was she! 
She slighted the journeyman, (meaning me!)
And smiled on a gallant of high degree. 
Degree! degree! 
She smiled on a gallant of high degree. 
Ha! ha! ha!”

“Jack!” exclaimed Thames, angrily.

But Sheppard was not to be silenced.  He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: 

“When years were gone by, she began to rue
Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!)
‘I slighted the journeyman fond,’ quoth she,
’But where is my gallant of high degree? 
Where! where! 
Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?’
Ho! ho! ho!”

“What are you doing here!” demanded Thames.

“Oh! nothing at all,” answered Jack, sneeringly, “though this room’s as much mine as yours, for that matter.  ’But I don’t desire to spoil sport,—­not I. And, if you’ll give me such a smack of your sweet lips, Miss, as you’ve just given Thames, I’ll take myself off in less than no time.”

The answer to this request was a “smack” of a very different description, bestowed upon Sheppard’s outstretched face by the little damsel, as she ran out of the room.

“’Odd’s! bodikins!” cried Jack, rubbing his cheek, “I’m in luck to-day.  However, I’d rather have a blow from the daughter than the mother.  I know who hits hardest.  I tell you what, Thames,” he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, “I’d give my right hand,—­and that’s no light offer for a carpenter’s ’prentice,—­if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you.”

“That’s not likely to be the case, if you go on in this way,” replied Thames, sharply.

“Why, what the devil would you have had me do!—­make myself scarce, eh?  You should have tipped me the wink.”

“No more of this,” rejoined Thames, “or we shall quarrel.”

“Who cares if we do?” retorted Sheppard, with a look of defiance.

“Jack,” said the other, sternly; “don’t provoke me further, or I’ll give you a thrashing.”

“Two can play at that game, my blood,” replied Sheppard, rising, and putting himself into a posture of defence.

“Take care of yourself, then,” rejoined Thames, doubling his fists, and advancing towards him:  “though my right arm’s stiff, I can use it, as you’ll find.”

Sheppard was no match for his opponent, for, though he possessed more science, he was deficient in weight and strength; and, after a short round, in which he had decidedly the worst of it, a well-directed hit on the nob stretched him at full length on the floor.