Accordingly, having armed himself with various weapons, including a stout oaken staff then ordinarily borne by the watch, and put a coil of rope and a gag in his pocket, to be ready in case of need, he set out, about ten o'clock, on the expedition. "I fear we're too late," he whispered to Thames. Can you come over?” “I think so. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. “Why not?” Lady Lescelles answered. Every one turned to her in astonishment. Let’s face it, she hates Missy’s guts.
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