"Is it you?" "It is," replied Sheppard, as he untied the cords. As he fell, he caught at the projecting masonry. Mike seemed visibly happier at her remark. "What has become of Jack Sheppard?" "Devil knows!" answered Quilt; "but I believe he's in the hands of Blueskin, so there's no doubt he'll soon be on the high-road to Tyburn. Her mind invoked her husband, who she imagined lying dead in a ditch somewhere, tortured and killed by brigands or perhaps eaten by creatures like herself, a fate he actually deserved. ‘But a spy I am not.
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