’ For the moment I thought it was a telegram from Gwen. The knots and broken pale that made the garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still to be traced. It was instantly burst open, when the horrible stench that issued from it convinced them that it must be a receptacle for the murdered victims of the thief-taker. He was roused from the stupor of despair into which he had sunk by the voice of Ben, who roared in his ear, "The bridge!—the bridge!" CHAPTER VII. "Stop him!" shouted Jonathan from the stair-head, "stop him! It's Jack Sheppard!" "Give way!" cried Jack fiercely. Mr. Now, more than ever, it was time to start running.
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