‘It is nothing at all of the kind. What is your father's business?" The question was an impertinence, but Ruth was not aware of that. ToC Jack Sheppard, after whistling to Blueskin, hurried down a short thoroughfare leading from Wych Street to the back of Saint Clement's Church, where he found Thames Darrell, who advanced to meet him. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. But why did he turn away? "Wait!" Ruth called to her father. "And now, I've one further request," faltered Jack; "though I scarcely know how to make it. And since then, he has openly avowed his determination of cutting his master's throat on the slightest inkling of treachery.
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