irons being struck off. Caliban,
who, through the interest of Mr. Ireton, was appointed to the office,
stood with a hammer in one hand, and a punch in the other, near the
great stone block, ready to fulfil his duty. Close behind him stood the
tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy
neck, and ill-favoured countenance. Next to the executioner stood his
wife--the former Mrs. Spurling. Mrs. Marvel held her handkerchief to her
eyes, and appeared in great distress. But her husband, whose deportment
to her was considerably changed since the fatal knot had been tied, paid
no attention whatever to her grief.

At this moment, the bell of Newgate began to toll, and was answered by
another bell from St. Sepulchre's. The great door of the Stone Hall was
thrown open, and the sheriffs, preceded by the javelin-men, entered the
room. They were followed by Jonathan, who carried a stout stick under
his arm, and planted himself near the stone. Not a word was uttered by
the assemblage; but a hush of expectation reigned throughout.

Another door was next opened, and, preceded by the ordinary, with the
sacred volume in his hand, the prisoner entered the room. Though
encumbered by his irons, his step was firm, and his demeanour dignified.
His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he
betray the slightest appearance of fear. On the contrary, it was
impossible to look at him without perceiving that his resolution was
unshaken.

Advancing with a slow firm step to the stone-block he placed his left
foot upon it, drew himself up to his full height, and fixed a look so
stern upon Jonathan, that the thief-taker quailed before it.

The black, meantime, began to ply his hammer, and speedily unriveted the
chains. The first stroke appeared to arouse all the vindictive passions
of Jonathan. Fixing a ferocious and exulting look upon Jack Sheppard, he
exclaimed.

"At length, my vengeance is complete."

"Wretch!" cried Jack, raising his hand in a menacing manner, "your
triumph will be short-lived. Before a year has expired, you will share
the same fate."

"If I do, I care not," rejoined Wild; "I shall have lived to see you
hanged."

"O Jack, dear, dear Jack!" cried Mrs. Marvel, who was now quite
dissolved in tears, "I shall never survive this scene."

"Hold your tongue, hussy!" cried her husband gruffly. "Women ought never
to show themselves on these occasions, unless they can behave themselv