Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. "It is Sheppard—Jack Sheppard—stop him!" And his shouts were reiterated by the pack of bloodhounds at his heels. He carried a small bag. Pure romantic nonsense on her part. " "It shall be at the door in ten minutes. ’ He opened the purse and extracted a couple of guineas. He knocked on the doorframe. "I have never been out of this horrible dungeon since we last met," he said; "though how long ago that is, I scarcely know.
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