Sheppard," cried the thief-taker, as he slipped a pair of handcuffs over Jack's wrists, "for the help you have given us in capturing your son. Spurling. ” “That’s why, in a way, I’m prudish. Jack, who had something of the Spartan in his composition, endured his martyrdom without flinching; and carried his stoical indifference so far, as even to make a mocking grimace in Sharples's face, while that amiable functionary thrust Thames into the recess beside him. ‘Dieu du ciel, is this a way to have me say yes? If it is that you do not wish to, why do you ask me?’ ‘Ah. "Poor fellow! I'm glad he has escaped. You shall behold him. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large. ” “The sooner the better,” he answered.
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