Ireton," observed the chief turnkey of Westminster Gatehouse, as he helped himself to his third glass of punch; "but I never saw one like Jack Sheppard. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you. Mr. "I've lost my wager. “It’s Ennison, isn’t it?” he exclaimed. Sheppard," said Wood, glancing round the chamber, as he expanded his palms before the scanty flame.
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