At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. It melted her heart. But I’m going to-day. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. ” She said.
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