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 a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. I have no intention of arresting you. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. As he looked up at the massive tower, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. “We’re going to be found out someday. ” She paused.
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