Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Amid the confusion, Shotbolt sprang to his feet, and levelling a pistol at Jack's head, commanded him to surrender; but, before any reply could be made, the jailer's arm was struck up by Blueskin, who, throwing himself upon him, dragged him to the ground. For a stunned moment, Emile did not speak. She proffered her neck towards him. All he will say is that she said so—as if anyone could believe a word the girl said. Sheppard. Why did he imagine she was making this journey to England? She feigned interest.
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