In this way, Jack was brought back to Newgate, and again chained down in the Middle Ward. Perhaps you will now explain the alarm. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. His hand went to his pocket and extracted a neat silver-mounted pistol. In passing, why do we fear death? For our sins? Rather, isn't it the tremendous inherent human curiosity to know what is going to happen to-morrow that causes us to wince at the thought of annihilation? A subconscious resentment against the idea of entering darkness while our neighbour will proceed with his petty affairs as usual? "It's nip and tuck," said the doctor; "but we'll pull him through.
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