The Rev. Sheppard. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way. It’s artificially chance. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. Sheppard: "nothing can save me. It was lent me by a countryman o' mine; but I paid him back in his own coin—ha! ha!" "A countryman of yours, Terry?" "Ay, and a noble one, too, Quilt—more's the pity! You've heard of the Marquis of Slaughterford, belike?" "Of course; who has not? He's the leader of the Mohocks, the general of the Scourers, the prince of rakes, the friend of the surgeons and glaziers, the terror of your tribe, and the idol of the girls!" "That's him to a hair?" cried Terence, rapturously. How Jack Sheppard got rid of his Irons 429 XXVI.
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