Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. The danger or difficulty of an exploit never appalled him. Diane spooned warm apple-rhubarb pie onto the girl’s plates, topping each with scoops of ice cream. The winters were bitter here, they could have just as easily been frozen off. Ah!" she screamed, with a sudden change of manner; and pointing to the window, which Jack had left open, and at which a dark figure was standing, "there is Jonathan Wild!" "Betrayed!" exclaimed Jack, glancing in the same direction. Spurling, formerly, it may be remembered, the hostess of the Dark House at Queenhithe,—whence wine, ale, and brandy of inferior quality were dispensed, in false measures, and at high prices, throughout the prison, which in noise and debauchery rivalled, if it did not surpass, the lowest tavern.
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