opes of escape, turned his
thoughts entirely from worldly considerations.

On Sunday, he was conveyed to the chapel, through which he had passed on
the occasion of his great escape, and once more took his seat in the
Condemned Pew. The Rev. Mr. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly
conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which,
while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated
to afford him much consolation. The chapel was crowded to excess. But
here,--even here, the demon was suffered to intrude, and Jack's thoughts
were distracted by Jonathan Wild, who stood at a little distance from
him, and kept his bloodthirsty eyes fixed on him during the whole of the
service.

On that night, an extraordinary event occurred, which convinced the
authorities that every precaution must be taken in conducting Jack to
Tyburn,--a fact of which they had been previously made aware, though
scarcely to the same extent, by the riotous proceedings near Westminster
Hall. About nine o'clock, an immense mob collected before the Lodge at
Newgate. It was quite dark; but as some of the assemblage carried links,
it was soon ascertained to be headed by the same party who had mainly
incited the former disturbance. Amongst the ring-leaders was Blueskin,
whose swarthy features and athletic figure were easily distinguished.
Another was Baptist Kettleby, and a third, in a Dutch dress, was
recognised by his grizzled beard as the skipper, Van Galgebrok.

Before an hour had elapsed, the concourse was fearfully increased. The
area in front of the jail was completely filled. Attempts were made upon
the door of the Lodge; but it was too strong to be forced. A cry was
then raised by the leaders to attack Wild's house, and the fury of the
mob was instantly directed to that quarter. Wrenched from their holds,
the iron palisades in front of the thief-taker's dwelling were used as
weapons to burst open the door.

While this was passing, Jonathan opened one of the upper windows, and
fired several shots upon the assailants. But though he made Blueskin and
Kettleby his chief marks, he missed both. The sight of the thief-taker
increased the fury of the mob to a fearful degree. Terrific yells rent
the air. The heavy weapon thundered against the door; and it speedily
yielded to their efforts.

"Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox."

As he spoke, several shots were fired from the upper p