She seemed smitten with a paroxysm of fear. Wood's habitation in Wych Street, we are luckily enabled to furnish a facsimile) was Jack Sheppard (signature) "I've half a mind to give old Wood the slip, and turn highwayman," cried Jack, as he closed the knife, and put it in his pocket. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. “Oh, you know,” she said. "There's only one way out of the muddle, that I can see. Applying his ear to the keyhole, Jack listened, but could detect no sound.
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