Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. ’ Melusine bit her lip on a sharp retort. It tore her apart. For the first time a definite doubt possessed him. His complexion was pale; and there was something sinister in the expression of his large black eyes. But I never found any truth in the saying. " With this, he mounted his steed and rode off. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't.
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