The Essential Works of William Harrison Ainsworth. William Harrison Ainsworth
Thames complied. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack.
“Lean on me,” said Jack.
Taking the light, they then proceeded along the passage. There was no other door in it, and Jack therefore struck into another entry which branched off to the right. They had not proceeded far when a low moan was heard.
“She is here,” cried Jack, darting forward.
A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. It was locked. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. At the first blow, Mrs. Sheppard uttered a piercing scream.
“Wretch!” she cried, “you shall not force me to your hateful purpose. I will never wed you. I have a weapon — a knife — and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart.”
“Oh God!” exclaimed Jack, paralysed by her cries. “What shall I do? If I persist, I shall destroy her.”
“Get hence,” continued Mrs. Sheppard, with a frenzied laugh. “You shall never behold me alive.”
“Mother!” cried Jack, in a broken voice. “It is your son.”
“It is false,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “Think not to deceive me, monster. I know my son’s voice too well. He is in Newgate. Hence!”
“Mother! dear mother!” cried Jack, in a voice, the tones of which were altered by his very anxiety to make them distinct, “listen to me. I have broken from prison, and am come to save you.”
“It is not Jack’s voice,” rejoined Mrs. Sheppard. “I am not to be deceived. The knife is at my breast. Stir a foot, and I strike.”
“Oh Heavens!” cried Jack, driven to his wits’ end. “Mother — dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. I am come to rescue you from Wild’s violence. I must break open the door. Hold your hand for a moment.”
“You have heard my fixed determination, villain,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “I know my life is valuable to you, or you would not spare it. But I will disappoint you. Get you gone. Your purposes are defeated.”
“Footsteps are approaching,” cried Thames. “Heed her not. It is but a wild threat.”
“I know not how to act,” exclaimed Jack, almost driven to desperation.
“I hear you plotting with your wicked associates,” cried Mrs. Sheppard. “I have baffled you.”
“Force the door,” said Thames, “or you will be too late.”
“Better she die by her own hand, than by that monster’s,” cried Jack, brandishing the bar. “Mother, I come to you.”
With this, he struck the door a heavy blow.
He listened. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within.
“I have killed her,” exclaimed Jack, dropping the bar — “by your advice, Thames. Oh God! pardon me.”
“Do not delay,” cried Thames. “She may yet be saved. I am too weak to aid you.”
Jack again seized the bar, and, dashing it furiously against the door, speedily burst it open.
The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand.
“Mother!” cried Jack, springing towards her.
“Jack!” she cried, raising her head. “Is it you?”
“It is,” replied her son, “Oh! why would you not listen to me?”
“I was distracted,” replied Mrs. Sheppard, faintly.
“I have killed you,” cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. “Forgive — forgive me!”
“I have nothing to forgive,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “I alone am to blame.”
“Can I not carry you where you can obtain help?” cried Jack in a agony of distress.
“It is useless,” replied Mrs. Sheppard: “nothing can save me. I die happy — quite happy in beholding you. Do not remain with me. You may fall into the hands of your enemy. Fly! fly!”
“Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself,” cried Jack, in an agony of tears.
“You have always been, far dearer to me than myself,” replied Mrs. Sheppard. “But I have one last request to make. Let me lie in Willesden churchyard.”
“You shall — you shall,” answered Jack.
“We shall meet again ere long, my son,” cried Mrs. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him.
“Oh God! she is dying,” exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. “Forgive me — oh, forgive me!”
“Forgive you — bless you!” she gasped.
A cold shiver ran through her frame, and her gentle spirit passed away for ever.
“Oh, God! that I might die too,” cried Jack, falling on his knees beside her.
After the first violent outbreak of grief had in some degree subsided, Thames addressed him.
“You must not remain here,” he said. “You can render no further service to your poor mother.”
“I can avenge her,” cried Jack in a terrible tone.
“Be ruled by me,” returned Thames. “You will act most in accordance with her wishes, could she dictate them, by compliance. Do not waste time in vain regrets, but let us remove the body, that we may fulfil her last injunctions.”
After some further arguments, Jack assented to this proposal.
“Go on first with the light,” he said. “I will bear the body.” And he raised it in his arms.
Just as they reached the end of the passage, they heard the voices of Jonathan and the Jew in Thames’s late place of confinement. Wild had evidently discovered the body of Quilt Arnold, and was loudly expressing his anger and astonishment.
“Extinguish the light,” cried Jack; “turn to the left. Quick! Quick!”
The order was only just given in time. They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault.
“Not a moment is to be lost,” cried Jack: “follow me.”
So saying, he hurried up stairs, opened the back door, and was quickly in the yard. Having ascertained that Thames was at his heels, he hurried with his ghastly burthen down Seacoal Lane.
“Where are you going?” cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him.
“I know not — and care not,” replied Jack.
At this moment, a coach passed them, and was instantly hailed by Thames.
“You had better let me convey her to Dollis Hill,” he said.
“Be it so,” replied Jack.
Luckily it was so dark, and there was no lamp near, that the man did not notice the condition of the body, which was placed in the vehicle by the two young men.
“What will you do?” asked Thames.
“Leave me to my fate,” rejoined Jack. “Take care of your charge.”
“Doubt me not,” replied Thames.
“Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday,” said Jack. “I will be there at