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The latch came with a weak click. The entrance was barred against them; and they had the additional mortification of hearing Sheppard's loud laughter at their discomfiture. As he took his departure, he whispered to the Jew: "Take him dead or alive; but if we fail now, and you heard him aright in Seacoal Lane, we are sure of him at his mother's funeral on Sunday. She kept her face downcast. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table. In reply to this summons a horn was instantly blown at the corner of the street. “I promise, Lucy. I forget the particulars, but I know it was something very disagreeable. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise.

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