I asked him why, and he hadn’t a reason. A sinister thought edged in. "By my soul," said the sexton, "that's as like Jack Sheppard as any one I ever seed i' my born days. Take a room!” “I say!” said Constance. “The man is dangerous. ” He said wistfully. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. I know what I am talking about.
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