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\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. Kimble had bedded the animal down at the local inn. Kneebone, respecting the lawless career of Jack Sheppard, and struck with the probable fate that awaited him, the young man, as he contemplated this scene, fell into a gloomy reverie. Having now sealed his letter, Sheppard took a handkerchief, and tying it over Shotbolt's face, so as completely to conceal the features, clapped his hat upon his head, and pushed it over his brows. “No power on earth will persuade me we’re not two rather disreputable persons. Lucy pinned her hair off her neck and hoped it would make her to look decidedly older.
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