Sheppard, who seemed to be crouching upon the floor. "O Massa Ireton! Massa Wild!" ejaculated Caliban, "Shack Sheppart gone!" "Gone? you black devil!—Gone?" cried Ireton. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. She wedged the towel between her legs. A jolly night we made of it, as you may suppose; for four such monarchs don't often come together. Dismissing the post-chaise at the Old Bailey, he walked to Newgate to ascertain what had occurred since the escape. Still no sound.
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