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Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house. Her elbows were ready. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. ’ She was obliged to acknowledge the justice of this complaint, and moved further into the passage to allow the men access. Ann Veronica sat back with a sigh of relief.
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