At this juncture, and just as a cuckoo-clock in the corner struck sis, Jack Sheppard walked into the room, with the packing-case under his arm. The easel and palette having been packed up, and the canvass carefully removed by Austin, the party took leave of the prisoner, who was so much abstracted that he scarcely noticed their departure. "They shan't have the opportunity," replied Kneebone. "Vell," he growled, addressing Quilt, "you know who's here, I suppose?" "To be sure I do," replied Quilt; "my noble friend, the Marquis of Slaughterford. She was shifting, moving back. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. I hope I may never come near her.
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