."

"Where--where?" cried Thames.

"Don't stir," replied Jack. "I will at once convince you of the truth of
my assertions, and ascertain whether the enemy really is at hand."

So saying, he advanced towards the window, threw open the sash, and
called out in the voice of Thames Darrell, "Who's there?"

He was answered by a shot from a pistol. The ball passed over his head,
and lodged in the ceiling.

"I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had
happened. "It is Jonathan. Your uncle--_our_ uncle is with him. I saw
them both."

"May I trust you?" cried Thames, eagerly.

"You may," replied Jack: "I'll fight for you to the last gasp."

"Follow me, then," cried Thames, drawing his sword, and springing
through the window.

"To the world's end," answered Jack, darting after him.

"Thames!--Thames!" cried Winifred, rushing to the window. "He will be
murdered!--Help!"

"My child!--my love!" cried Wood, dragging her forcibly back.

Two shots were fired, and presently the clashing of swords was heard
below.

After some time, the scuffle grew more and more distant, until nothing
could be heard.

Wood, meanwhile, had summoned his men-servants, and having armed them
with such weapons as could be found, they proceeded to the garden, where
the first object they encountered was Thames Darrell, extended on the
ground, and weltering in his blood. Of Jack Sheppard or the assailants
they could not discover a single trace.

As the body was borne to the house in the arms of the farming-men, Mr.
Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild.

CHAPTER VIII.

Old Bedlam.

When Thames Darrell and Jack Sheppard sprang through the window, they
were instantly assailed by Wild, Trenchard, and their attendants. Jack
attacked Jonathan with such fury, that he drove him into a shrubbery,
and might perhaps have come off the victor, if his foot had not slipped
as he made a desperate lunge. In this state it would have been all over
with him, as, being stunned by the fall, it was some moments before he
could recover himself, if another party had not unexpectedly come to his
rescue. This was Blueskin, who burst through the trees, and sword in
hand assaulted the thief-taker. As soon as Jack gained his legs, he
perceived Blueskin lying, as he thought, dead in the plantation, with a
severe cut across his temples, and while he was stooping to assist him,
he heard groans at a little distance. Hasteni