" "Are you man, or fiend?" exclaimed Trenchard, staring at the stranger, as he concluded his narration. Lord help him! he's the very image of his father. ’ For the space of half a minute, Gerald continued to scowl in silent frustration. “I have never yet met a man whose intellect I could respect. As he lay on his back, he fancied himself gradually slipping off the platform. He was therefore obliged to use the iron bar, which he did with as much caution as circumstances would permit. In after years, some pitying hand supplied the inscription, which ran thus— JACK SHEPPARD THE END. He nodded silently, too full for words. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it.
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