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The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. "Jack Sheppard's fingers are lime-twigs. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. A dozen books lay upon the counterpane. I can assure you, Anna, it will take me years to get decently established. While he was filling his pockets with golden coin from this store, Blueskin had pulled the plate-chest from under the bed, and having forced it open, began filling a canvass bag with its contents,—silver coffee-pots, chocolate-dishes, waiters trays, tankards, goblets, and candlesticks. Our mutual safety requires it. How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was painted 385 XVII. And you see, I don’t turn my back, and I am looking at you and thinking about you from top to toe. What he told the vicomte I was not privileged to learn. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard.
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