"He was hanged that left his drink behind, you know, master," rejoined Sheppard. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. At every step he seemed to be haunted by the ghost of the past. A world of haystacks, bean-stacks, and strawricks flanked the granges adjoining his habitation; the yard was crowded with poultry, pigeons were feeding at his feet, cattle were being driven towards the stall, horses led to the stable, a large mastiff was rattling his chain, and stalking majestically in front of his kennel, while a number of farming-men were passing and repassing about their various occupations. Jack Sheppard is a match for Jonathan Wild, any day. It is easy enough to sing these little chansons in an original way—it requires a very different sort of ability to succeed on the stage. . “I can’t. It might prove rewarding. ’ Triumph soared in Gerald’s chest. ” Sebastian drove on. CHAPTER III. "No," replied Wild; "and I've only listened to your absurd proposal to see how far your insane attachment to this lad would carry you.
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