at the spectacle that met her gaze. There sat Jack,
evidently in the last stage of intoxication, with his collar opened, his
dress disarranged, a pipe in his mouth, a bowl of punch and a
half-emptied rummer before him,--there he sat, receiving and returning,
or rather attempting to return,--for he was almost past
consciousness,--the blandishments of a couple of females, one of whom
had passed her arm round his neck, while the other leaned over the back
of his chair and appeared from her gestures to be whispering soft
nonsense into his ear.

Both these ladies possessed considerable personal attractions. The
younger of the two, who was seated next to Jack, and seemed to
monopolize his attention, could not be more than seventeen, though her
person had all the maturity of twenty. She had delicate oval features,
light, laughing blue eyes, a pretty _nez retrousse_, (why have we not
the term, since we have the best specimens of the feature?) teeth of
pearly whiteness, and a brilliant complexion, set off by rich auburn
hair, a very white neck and shoulders,--the latter, perhaps, a trifle
too much exposed. The name of this damsel was Edgeworth Bess; and, as
her fascinations will not, perhaps, be found to be without some
influence upon the future fortunes of her boyish admirer, we have
thought it worth while to be thus particular in describing them. The
other _bona roba_, known amongst her companions as Mistress Poll Maggot,
was a beauty on a much larger scale,--in fact, a perfect Amazon.
Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly
proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame
of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean
Venus. A man's laced hat,--whether adopted from the caprice of the
moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,--cocked knowingly on
her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Mrs. Maggot, as well
as her companion Edgeworth Bess, was showily dressed; nor did either of
them disdain the aid supposed to be lent to a fair skin by the contents
of the patchbox. On an empty cask, which served him for a chair, and
opposite Jack Sheppard, whose rapid progress in depravity afforded him
the highest satisfaction, sat Blueskin, encouraging the two women in
their odious task, and plying his victim with the glass as often as he
deemed it expedient to do so. By this time, he had apparently
accomplished all he desired; for moving the bottle out of