At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. ‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. It was a brief solitude, however. I could see his little animal brain churning away, inventing plans for me, formulating his revenge. “The rarefied air? I thought you had a better head. It is a most inauspicious start for you. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. " Sheppard immediately complied with the painter's request; while Gay and Figg drew back on one side, and Hogarth on the other. I’m minded to take a whip and beat some sense into you.
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