The Essential Works of William Harrison Ainsworth. William Harrison Ainsworth
up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. A glance satisfied Jonathan that the turnkey was not aware of the prisoner’s escape; and he resolved not to destroy what he considered a good jest, by a premature disclosure of it.
“You are out betimes this morning, Mr. Wild,” observed Austin, as he put on his coat, and adjusted his minor bob. “Something fresh on hand, I suppose?”
“I’m come to inquire after Jack Sheppard,” returned Jonathan.
“Don’t alarm yourself about him, Sir,” replied Austin. “He’s safe enough, I assure you.”
“I should like to satisfy myself on that score,” rejoined Wild, drily.
“So you shall, Sir,” replied Austin, who at this moment recollected, with some uneasiness, the applications at the lodge-door during the night. “I hope you don’t imagine anything has gone wrong, Sir.”
“It matters not what I think,” replied Wild. “Come with me to the Castle.”
“Instantly, Sir,” replied Austin; “instantly. Here, Caliban, attend to the door, and keep the wicket locked till I return. D’ye hear. Now, Sir.”
Taking the keys, he led the way, followed by Jonathan, who chuckled internally at the shock that awaited the poor fellow.
The door was opened, and Austin entered the cell, when he absolutely recoiled before the spectacle he beheld, and could scarcely have looked more alarmed if the prison had tumbled about his ears. Petrified and speechless, he turned an imploring look at Wild, who was himself filled with astonishment at the pile of rubbish lying before him.
“‘Sdeath!” cried Jonathan, staring at the breach in the wall. “Some one must have assisted him. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone.”
“I firmly believe he has dealings with the devil,” replied Austin, trembling from head to foot. “But, perhaps, he has not got beyond the room above. It’s as strong, if not stronger, than this. I’ll see.”
So saying, he scrambled over the rubbish, and got into the chimney. But though the breach was large enough to admit him below, he could not squeeze his bulky person through the aperture into the Red Room.
“I believe he’s gone,” he said, returning to Jonathan. “The door’s open, and the room empty.”
“You believe — you know it,” replied Jonathan, fixing one of his sternest and most searching glances upon him. “Nothing you can say to the contrary will convince me that you have not been accessory to his flight.”
“I, Sir! — I swear ——”
“Tush!” interrupted Jonathan, harshly. “I shall state my suspicions to the governor. Come down with me to the Lodge directly. All further examinations must be conducted in the presence of proper witnesses.”
With these words, he strode out of the room, darted down the stone stairs, and, on his arrival at the Lodge, seized the rope of the great bell communicating with the interior of the prison, which he rang violently. As this was never done, except in some case of great emergency, the application was instantly answered by all the other turnkeys, by Marvel, the four partners, and Mrs. Spurling. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. All seemed infected with Austin’s terrors except Mrs. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband.
Headed by Jonathan, all the turnkeys then repaired to the upper part of the jail, and, approaching the Red Room by a circuitous route, several doors were unlocked, and they came upon the scene of Jack’s exploits. Stopping before each door, they took up the plates of the locks, examined the ponderous bolts, and were struck with the utmost astonishment at what they beheld.
Arriving at the chapel, their wonder increased. All the jailers declared it utterly impossible he could have accomplished his astonishing task unaided; but who had lent him assistance was a question they were unable to answer. Proceeding to the entry to the Lower Leads, they came to the two strong doors, and their surprise was so great at Jack’s marvellous performance, that they could scarcely persuade themselves that human ingenuity could have accomplished it.
“Here’s a door,” remarked Ireton, when he got to that nearest the leads, “which I could have sworn would have resisted anything. I shall have no faith in future in bolts and bars.”
Mounting the roof of the prison, they traced the fugitive’s course to the further extremity of the building, where they found his blanket attached to the spike proving that he escaped in that direction.
After severely examining Austin, and finding it proved, on the testimony of his fellow-jailers, that he could not have aided Jack in his flight, Jonathan retracted his harsh sentence, and even went so far as to say that he would act as mediator between him and the governor.
This was some satisfaction to the poor fellow, who was dreadfully frightened, as indeed he might well be, it being the opinion of the jailers and others who afterwards examined the place, that Jack had accomplished, single-handed, in a few hours, and, as far as it could be ascertained, with imperfect implements, what it would have taken half a dozen men several days, provided with proper tools, to effect. In their opinion a hundred pounds would not repair the damage done to the prison.
As soon as Jack’s escape became known, thousands of persons flocked to Newgate to behold his workmanship; and the jailers reaped am abundant harvest from their curiosity.
Jonathan, meanwhile, maintained profound secrecy as to his hopes of capturing the fugitive; and when Jack was brought back to Newgate on the Sunday evening, his arrival was wholly unexpected.
At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. Hearing the stoppage, Austin rushed out, and could scarcely believe his eyes when he beheld Jack Sheppard in the custody of Quilt Arnold and Abraham Mendez.
Jack’s recapture was speedily made known to all the officers of the jail, and the Lodge was instantly crowded. The delight of the turnkeys was beyond all bounds; but poor Mrs. Spurling was in a state of distraction and began to abuse Jonathan so violently that her future husband was obliged to lay forcible hands upon her and drag her away.
By Wild’s command the prisoner was taken to the Condemned Hold, whither he was followed by the whole posse of officers and by the partners; two of whom carried large hammers and two the fetters. There was only one prisoner in the ward. He was chained to the ground, but started up at their approach. It was Blueskin. When he beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan.
“Captain,” he cried, in a voice of the bitterest anguish, “have these dogs again hunted you down? If you hadn’t been so unlucky, I should have been with you before to-morrow night.”
Jack made no answer, nor did he even cast his eyes upon his follower. But Jonathan, fixing a terrible look upon him, cried.
“Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. My lads,” he continued, addressing the partners; “when you’ve finished this job give that fellow a fresh set of darbies. I suspect he has been at work upon those he has on.”
“The link of the chain next the staple is sawn through,” said Ireton, stooping to examine Blueskin’s fetters.
“Search him and iron him afresh;” commanded Jonathan. “But first let us secure Sheppard. We’ll then remove them both to the Middle Stone Hold, where a watch shall be kept over them night and day till they’re taken to Tyburn. As they’re so fond of each other’s society they shan’t part company even on that occasion, but shall swing from the same tree.”
“You’ll never live to see that day,” cried Blueskin, fixing a menacing look upon him.
“What weight are these irons?” asked Jonathan, coolly addressing one of the partners.
“More than three hundred weight, Sir,” replied the man. “They’re the heaviest set we have