CHAPTER XXV Spurlock pushed back his helmet and sat down in the white sand, buckling his knees and folding his arms around them—pondering. In the middle of the little town stood the shop of a Jew dealer in old clothes. If she returns to the house from which we took her, her companions will laugh at her and smother her with ridicule. Then she called a hansom and drove home. Thames sprang to his feet, and half drew his sword, while Wood, removing his spectacles to assure himself that his eyes did not deceive him, exclaimed in a tone and with a look that betrayed the extremity of surprise—"Jack Sheppard!" "Jack Sheppard!" echoed the maid. It hit her just above the knee. Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. This woman knows me—’ throwing the remark at Lucilla ‘—and that I am the daughter of Mary Remenham. I have—run away. These things were common knowledge among the bon ton, who were generously welcoming these unfortunate escapees.
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