The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. ‘What are you, a nincompoop? She was Nicholas’s wife, of course. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. "Stop him!" shouted Jonathan from the stair-head, "stop him! It's Jack Sheppard!" "Give way!" cried Jack fiercely.
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