"Odd's life!" cried Gay, in astonishment; "is this slight-made stripling Jack Sheppard? Why, I expected to see a man six foot high at the least, and as broad across the shoulders as our friend Figg. Free! All the fine ecstasy, without the numbing terror. He tried again. Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. "Another such attempt," said the latter, "and you are a dead man. As they neared the house, Jack Sheppard, who led the way, halted and addressed his companion in a low voice:— "I don't half like this job, Blueskin," he said; "it always went against the grain.
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