"Now, Jack," cried Thames, warmly grasping Sheppard's hand, "you are my friend again. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. Quarter-staves, bludgeons, brown-bills, lanterns, swords, and sconces were alike shivered; and, to judge from the sullied state of their habiliments, the claret must have been tapped pretty freely. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. "Jump!" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder.
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