While Thames modestly expressed a hope that he might not belie the carpenter's favourable prediction, Jack Sheppard thought fit to mount a small ladder placed against the wall, and, springing with the agility of an ape upon a sort of frame, contrived to sustain short spars and blocks of timber, began to search about for a piece of wood required in the work on which he was engaged. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. She shook her head. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance. “That’s all,” she said “I’m afraid I’m a little confused about these things. ‘You know?’ ‘Come, come, Melusine. You’re trespassing again, and I’ve come to arrest you,’ Gerald said promptly.
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