ently
termed, Tyburn Road. After passing Tottenham Court Road, very few
houses were to be seen on the right hand, opposite Wardour Street it was
open country.

The crowd now dispersed amongst the fields, and thousands of persons
were seen hurrying towards Tyburn as fast as their legs could carry
them, leaping over hedges, and breaking down every impediment in their
course.

Besides those who conducted themselves more peaceably, the conductors of
the procession noticed with considerable uneasiness, large bands of men
armed with staves, bludgeons, and other weapons, who were flying across
the field in the same direction. As it was feared that some mischief
would ensue, Wild volunteered, if he were allowed a small body of men,
to ride forward to Tyburn, and keep the ground clear until the arrival
of the prisoner.

This suggestion being approved, was instantly acted upon, and the
thief-taker, accompanied by a body of the grenadiers, rode forward.

The train, meantime, had passed Marylebone Lane, when it again paused
for a moment, at Jack's request, near the door of a public-house called
the City of Oxford.

Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way,
in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart,
and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner.

"I told you I would call to bid you farewell, Mr. Figg," said Jack.

"So you did," replied the prize-fighter. "Sorry you're obliged to keep
your word. Heard of your last escape. Hoped you'd not be retaken. Never
sent for the shirt."

"I didn't want it," replied Jack; "but who are those gentlemen?"

"Friends of yours," replied Figg; "come to see you;--Sir James
Thornhill, Mr. Hogarth, and Mr. Gay. They send you every good wish."

"Offer them my hearty thanks," replied Jack, waving his hand to the
group, all of whom returned the salutation. "And now, farewell, Mr.
Figg! In a few minutes, all will be over."

Figg turned aside to hide the tears that started to his eyes,--for the
stout prize-fighter, with a man's courage, had a woman's heart,--and the
procession again set forward.

CHAPTER XXXII.

The Closing Scene.

Tyburn was now at hand. Over the sea of heads arose a black and dismal
object. It was the gallows. Jack, whose back was towards it, did not see
it; but he heard, from the pitying exclamations of the crowd, that it
was in view. This circumstance produced no further alteration in his
demeanour ex