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Chapter VIII “WHITE’S” Northwards, away from the inhospitality of West Kensington, rumbled the ancient four-wheel cab, laden with luggage and drawn by a wheezy old horse rapidly approaching its last days. Sheppard, shuddering violently. I believe—I believe that I must risk it. "Bravo," cried Sheppard, examining its contents, which proved to be a file, a chisel, two or three gimblets, and a piercer. "It's Jonathan Wild come back with a troop of constables at his heels, to search the house," rejoined Mrs. " "As you please," returned Jack, leaping up; "but I feel devilishly inclined to finish him.
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