“It is useless,” replied Mrs. Sheppard: “nothing can save me. I die happy--quite happy in beholding you. Do not remain with me. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. Fly! fly!”
“Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself,” cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
“You have always been, far dearer to me than myself,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “But I have one last request to make. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard.”
“We shall meet again ere long, my son,” cried Mrs. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him.
“Oh God! she is dying,” exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. “Forgive me--oh, forgive me!”
A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever.
“Oh, God! that I might die too,” cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her.
After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him.
“You must not remain here,” he said. “You can render no further service to your poor mother.”
“I can avenge her,” cried Jack in a terrible tone.
“Be ruled by me,” returned Thames. “You will act most in accordance with her wishes, could she dictate them, by compliance. Do not waste time in vain regrets, but let us remove the body, that we may fulfil her last injunctions.”
After some further arguments, Jack assented to this proposal.
“Go on first with the light,” he said. “I will bear the body.” And he raised it in his arms.
Just as they reached the end of the passage, they heard the voices of Jonathan and the Jew in Thames's late place of confinement. Wild had evidently discovered the body of Quilt Arnold, and was loudly expressing his anger and astonishment.
“Extinguish the light,” cried Jack; “turn to the left. Quick! Quick!”
The order was only just given in time. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault.
“Not a moment is to be lost,” cried Jack: “follow me.”
So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
“Where are you going?” cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him.
“I know not--and care not,” replied Jack.
