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She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. “Will he die?” she asked. “Yes, I have heard of him, and I know him by sight,” he admitted. Uttering a few inarticulate ejaculations,—for he was completely out of breath,— the fugitive placed a bundle in the arms of the carpenter, and, regardless of the consternation he excited in the breast of that personage, who was almost stupified with astonishment, he began to divest himself of a heavy horseman's cloak, which he threw over Wood's shoulder, and, drawing his sword, seemed to listen intently for the approach of his pursuers. Without inquiring into the correctness of the latter part of the story, it may be sufficient to state, that Black Mary was a person in whom Jack Sheppard thought he could confide, and, as Edgeworth Bess was incapable of much further exertion, he determined to leave her in the old woman's care till the following night, while he shifted for himself and fulfilled his design—for, however rash or hazardous a project might be, if once conceived, Jack always executed it,—of visiting Jonathan Wild at his house in the Old Bailey. You’re a lady. "Fly!" cried Jack; "escape if you can; don't mind me. Besides, you have so many talents, you build things. What I do know I shall have no hesitation in telling anyone who has the right to ask.
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