This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. . ToC In a hollow in the meadows behind the prison whence Jack Sheppard had escaped,—for, at this time, the whole of the now thickly-peopled district north of Clerkenwell Bridewell was open country, stretching out in fertile fields in the direction of Islington—and about a quarter of a mile off, stood a solitary hovel, known as Black Mary's Hole. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things.
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