But let the horses be in readiness. CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called the City of Oxford. Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. ‘Wait for me. " "You daren't use it. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. In the distance a barrel-organ was grinding out a pot pourri of popular airs.
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