" Not many days after this event, on a bright October morning, the bells rang a merry peal from the old gray tower of Willesden church. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. ‘Aye, sir. Sheppard's weight had destroyed the equilibrium of the plank: it swerved, and slowly descended. But, after all, what does that matter? He is very much taken with me. I am sorry, but you have spoilt me. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him.
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