when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction
of the vault.

"Not a moment is to be lost," cried Jack: "follow me."

So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly
in the yard. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he
hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.

"Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered,
was scarcely able to keep up with him.

"I know not--and care not," replied Jack.

At this moment, a coach passed them, and was instantly hailed by Thames.

"You had better let me convey her to Dollis Hill," he said.

"Be it so," replied Jack.

Luckily it was so dark, and there was no lamp near, that the man did not
notice the condition of the body, which was placed in the vehicle by the
two young men.

"What will you do?" asked Thames.

"Leave me to my fate," rejoined Jack. "Take care of your charge."

"Doubt me not," replied Thames.

"Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said
Jack. "I will be there at the time."

So saying, he closed the door.

The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare
if he drove quickly, set off at full speed.

As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed
after him.

CHAPTER XXIV.

The Pursuit.

After running to some distance down Seacoal Lane, Jack stopped to give a
last look at the vehicle which was bearing away the remains of his
beloved and ill-fated mother. It was scarcely out of sight, when two
persons, whom, he instantly recognised as Jonathan and Abraham Mendez,
turned the corner of the street, and made it evident from their shouts,
that they likewise perceived him.

Starting off at a rapid pace, Jack dashed down Turnagain-lane, skirted
the eastern bank of Fleet-ditch, crossed Holborn Bridge, and began to
ascend the neighbouring hill. By the time he had reached St. Andrew's
Church, his pursuers had gained the bridge, and the attention of such
passengers as crowded the streets was attracted towards him by their
vociferations. Amongst others, the watchman whose box was placed against
the churchyard wall, near the entrance to Shoe-lane, rushed out and
sprung his rattle, which was immediately answered by another rattle from
Holborn-bars.

Darting down Field-lane, Jack struck into a labyrinth of streets on the
left; but though he ran as swiftly as he could, he was not unperceived.
His course had been obs