armed by something in
the widow's look before her feelings found vent in the manner above
described, thrust his hand instinctively into his coat in search of his
pocket-book,--about the security of which, as it contained several
letters and documents implicating himself and others in the Jacobite
plot, he was, not unnaturally, solicitous,--and finding it gone, he felt
certain he had been robbed. Turning quickly round, in the hope of
discovering the thief, he was no less surprised than distressed--for in
spite of his faults, the woollen-draper was a good-natured fellow--to
perceive Jack Sheppard in custody. The truth at once flashed across his
mind. This, then, was the cause of the widow's wild inexplicable
look,--of her sudden shriek! Explaining his suspicious in a whisper to
Jack's captor, who proved to be a church-warden and a constable, by name
John Dump,--Mr. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the
churchyard. Dump instantly complied, and as soon as Jack was removed
from the sacred edifice, his person was searched from head to foot--but
without success. Jack submitted to this scrutiny with a very bad grace,
and vehemently protested his innocence. In vain did the woollen-draper
offer to set him free if he would restore the stolen article, or give up
his associate, to whom it was supposed he might have handed it. He
answered with the greatest assurance, that he knew nothing whatever of
the matter--had seen no pocket-book, and no associate to give up. Nor
did he content himself with declaring his guiltlessness of the crime
imputed to him, but began in his turn to menace his captor and accuser,
loading the latter with the bitterest upbraidings. By this time, the
churchyard was crowded with spectators, some of whom dispersed in
different directions in quest of the other robber. But all that could be
ascertained in the village was, that a man had ridden off a short time
before in the direction of London. Of this man Kneebone resolved to go
in pursuit; and leaving Jack in charge of the constable, he proceeded to
the small inn,--which bore then, as it bears now, the name of the Six
Bells,--where, summoning the hostler, his steed was instantly brought
him, and, springing on its back, he rode away at full speed.

Meanwhile, after a consultation between Mr. Dump and the village
authorities, it was agreed to lock up the prisoner in the cage. As he
was conveyed thither, an incident occurred that produced a considerable