d
effected their escape.

CHAPTER III.

Jack Sheppard's Quarrel with Jonathan Wild.

Scarcely an hour after the horrible occurrence just related, as Jonathan
Wild was seated in the audience-chamber of his residence at the Old
Bailey, occupied, like Peachum, (for whose portrait he sat,) with his
account-books and registers, he was interrupted by the sudden entrance
of Quilt Arnold, who announced Jack Sheppard and Blueskin.

"Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of
satisfaction. "I was just thinking of you Jack. What news. Have you done
the trick at Dollis Hill?--brought off the swag--eh?"

"No," answered Jack, flinging himself sullenly into a chair, "I've not."

"Why how's this?" exclaimed Jonathan. "Jack Sheppard failed! I'd not
believe it, if any one but himself told me so."

"I'v not failed," returned Jack, angrily; "but we've done too much."

"I'm no reader of riddles," said Jonathan. "Speak plainly."

"Let this speak for me," said Sheppard, tossing a heavy bag of money
towards him. "You can generally understand that language. There's more
than I undertook to bring. It has been purchased by blood!"

"What! have you cut old Wood's throat?" asked Wild, with great
unconcern, as he took up the bag.

"If I _had_, you'd not have seen me here," replied Jack, sullenly. "The
blood that has been spilt is that of his wife."

"It was her own fault," observed Blueskin, moodily. "She wouldn't let me
go. I did it in self-defence."

"I care not why you did it," said Jack, sternly. "We work together no
more."

"Come, come, Captain," remonstrated Blueskin. "I thought you'd have got
rid of your ill-humour by this time. You know as well as I do that it
was accident."

"Accident or not," rejoined Sheppard; "you're no longer pall of mine."

"And so this is my reward for having made you the tip-top cracksman you
are," muttered Blueskin;--"to be turned off at a moment's notice,
because I silenced a noisy woman. It's too hard. Think better of it."

"My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,--"we part to-night."

"I'll not go," answered the other. "I love you like a son, and will
follow you like a dog. You'd not know what to do without me, and shan't
drive me off."

"Well!" remarked Jonathan, who had paid little attention to the latter
part of the conversation: "this is an awkward business certainly: but we
must do the best we can in it. You must keep out of the way till it's
blown