. "But he
can't be far off. He must be gone to dispose of the body. We shall have
him on his return."

"I'll see where these footsteps lead to," said Blueskin, holding the
light to the floor. "Here are some more papers, Captain."

"Give them to me," replied Jack. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter,
beginning 'dearest Aliva,'--that's your mother's name, Thames."

"Let me see it," cried Thames, snatching it from him. "It _is_ addressed
to my mother," he added, as his eye glanced rapidly over it, "and by my
father. At length, I shall ascertain my name. Bring the light this
way--quick! I cannot decipher the signature."

Jack was about to comply with the request, when an unlooked-for
interruption occurred. Having traced the footsteps to the wall, and
perceiving no outlet, Blueskin elevated the lamp, and discovered marks
of bloody fingers on the boards.

"He must have gone this way," muttered Blueskin. "I've often heard of a
secret door in this room, though I never saw it. It must be somewhere
hereabouts. Ah!" he exclaimed, as his eye fell upon a small knob in the
wall, "there's the spring!"

He touched it, and the door flew open.

The next moment, he was felled to the ground by Jonathan Wild, who
sprang into the room, followed by Abraham bearing the link. A single
glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. From the slight
sounds that had reached him in his place of confinement, he was aware
that some persons had found their way to the scene of slaughter, and in
a state of the most intense anxiety awaited the result of their
investigation, prepared for the worst. Hearing the spring touched, he
dashed through on the instant, and struck down the person who presented
himself, with his bludgeon. On beholding the intruders, his fears
changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he
glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage
denizen of the plains.

On his appearance, Jack levelled a pistol at his head. But his hand was
withheld by Thames.

"Don't fire," cried the latter. "It is important not to slay him. He
shall expiate his offences on the gibbet. You are my prisoner,
murderer."

"_Your_ prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. "You mistake,--you are
mine. And so is your companion,--the convict Sheppard."

"Waste not another word with him, Thames," cried Jack. "Upon him!"

"Yield, villain, or die!" shouted Thames, drawing his sword and
springing towards him.

"