es
properly."

"Farewell, Jack," cried twenty voices.

Sheppard looked round, and exchanged kindly glances with several of
those who addressed him.

"My limbs feel so light, now that my irons are removed," he observed
with a smile, "that I am half inclined to dance."

"You'll dance upon nothing, presently," rejoined Jonathan, brutally.

"Farewell for ever," said Jack, extending his hand to Mrs. Marvel.

"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her
lips. "Here are a pair of gloves and a nosegay for you. Oh dear!--oh
dear! Be careful of him," she added to her husband, "and get it over
quickly, or never expect to see me again."

"Peace, fool!" cried Marvel, angrily. "Do you think I don't know my own
business?"

Austin and Langley then advanced to the prisoner, and, twinning their
arms round his, led him down to the Lodge, whither he was followed by
the sheriffs, the ordinary, Wild, and the other officials.

Meantime, every preparation had been made outside for his departure. At
the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful
black horse harnessed to it. At the head of the cart was placed the
coffin. On the right were several mounted grenadiers: on the left, some
half dozen javelin-men. Soldiers were stationed at different points of
the street to keep off the mob, and others were riding backwards and
forwards to maintain an open space for the passage of the procession.

The assemblage which was gathered together was almost countless. Every
house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its
occupants. The wall of St. Sepulchre's church was covered--so was the
tower. The concourse extended along Giltspur Street as far as
Smithfield. No one was allowed to pass along Newgate Street, which was
barricaded and protected by a strong constabulary force.

The first person who issued from the Lodge was Mr. Marvel, who proceeded
to the cart, and took his seat upon the coffin. The hangman is always an
object of peculiar detestation to the mob, a tremendous hooting hailed
his appearance, and both staves and swords were required to preserve
order.

A deep silence, however, now prevailed, broken only by the tolling of
the bells of Newgate and St. Sepulchre's. The mighty concourse became
for a moment still. Suddenly, such a shout as has seldom smitten human
ears rent the air. "He comes!" cried a thousand voices, and the shout
ascended to Smithfield, descended to Sn