“You poor little girl!” he cried. . Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. Nothing disheartened by this survey, Jack set to work upon the lock, which he attacked with all his implements;—now attempting to pick it with the nail;— now to wrench it off with the bar: but all without effect. For the face under her gaze she could find but one expression—fine. It fell with a clatter to the floor. The doors were closed and barricaded, and the mob threatened to burst them open if Jack was not delivered to them.
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