Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie. By the side of her plate was a small key. For a moment she remained silent. "And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. He was halfway across the ballroom, where the dancing had ceased for the musicians to take a well-earned rest, when Roding pounced on him. As a matter of fact, I had never spoken to him before in my life.
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