There were no mourners. Pitt?" "There is no mistake, Sir," rejoined the prisoner, drawing himself up, "I am Jack Sheppard. He went over her features one by one in his mind. I can help you to both,—nay, I will help you to both, if you do not interfere with my plans. Help—should she need it—from the natives was out of the question. Meantime, the Stone Hall was crowded by all the inmates of the jail, debtors, felons, turnkeys, and officers who could obtain permission to witness the ceremony of the prisoner's irons being struck off. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. ” He said wistfully.
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