Cast off this weakness. "If I were so, I should not be here," returned Trenchard. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them. ' Jack Sheppard's library consisted of a few ragged and well-thumbed volumes abstracted from the tremendous chronicles bequeathed to the world by those Froissarts and Holinsheds of crime —the Ordinaries of Newgate. Without the inclosure were reared several lofty gibbets, with their ghastly burthens. Like the parrot, she could memorize the lines, but she could not understand them. From this night I shall pursue a different course; from this night his ruin may be dated. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent.
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