CHAPTER XXXI.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 6728, 24 February 1900, Page 1

CHAPTER XXXI.

IN THE CASTLE CELL. AT XEWGATE. Jack She<ppard had been marked down as tßio next victim of Jonathan Wild's animosity. The prospect looked bad for the daring young adventurer. After, the robbery at Islington and the discomfiture of Hiohen, Jade had resolved to leave the 'country, whether in a. fit of virtuous resolution or to change the venue o! his depredations it is hard to say. But Wild started every human hound he could command upon the lad's trail. Hichen's narrative of .tihe affair at Islington maddened Wild. Quite had never seen him in such a>u ungovernable rage. He almost sitruck Hichen, ,\rhila he poural upon him a shower of imprecations. " You empty-headed Io6l!" he said. "Why did you nab act upon the plan I gave you You take anything in the act! You miserable, blatant idiofc !" And Hi'chen had bounced out of the room, saying ho woilld see Who was t'ha idiot. Thereupon began the paper fight between Wild and Hichen which the City Marshal was already engaged upon, as we have seen, when Wild called to make matters up and put the City Marshal to further base uses and was denied. Sheppard, however, was taken as he was leaving Mistress Cooke's rooms on. his way to Bess, who had changed her lodging, leaving with Dolly particulars of her whereabouts. Jack had resolved to say " Farewell " to Bess ; and Blueskin had settled a rendezvous whence they could start for Southampton. Instead, however, ' of a ship that should take them to a foreign port Jack found himself once more in Newgate. Blueskin, meanwhile, had gone fearlessly to Wild and given him Tiis .own. version of the failure at Islington, keeping back nothmg and compelling something like a prunt of amusement from Wild when he related the scene of Hichen's complete overthrow, repeating, witn embellishments, the chorees he and Sheppard had made against the City Marshal. In this Blueskin knew that he would appeal to Wild's hatred of Hichen and also to his appreciation of anything that suggested .a piece of astute strategy. At the same time, Sheppard's mutiny, the handing over of the packet of papers to Beryl and the sacrifice 01 the booty of the night, were matters that accentuated Wild's bitterness against Slieppard, which was not softened by his successful disposal of Brent, though he' had latterly regarded him as his bitterest foe. He absolved Blake for the present, with the full intention of wreaking his vengeance upon him when he should have no further use for him. Blueskin ventured to put in a word for Sheppard, but- to no purpose. . . . .'.' . . „. , . Jack, meanwhile, was taking his life philosophically and not without hope, in what

was called the " Castle Cell " of Newgate— the strongest room in the prison, where he was chained to the floor, padlocked and manacled, the chains soldered into the floor and riveted about his legs and waist. There is a well-known picture of the prisoner in this condition. The chains seem do have been exaggerated by the artist; but I have seen them only recently. They were of enormous weight, and the padlock and staple no less formidable. Jack's previous escape had made so much noise that crowds of people now applied to see him. Many were admitted. Among them were ladies of fashion. He diverted them by recounting his rogueries. The ladies gave him bouquets. Some of them kissed him; others left him money. This he gave to his keepers and to Edgeworth Bess. The latter, being also under suspicion of a felony, was afraid to visit him, except in disguise. She made her way to his side, however, in the make-up of an old woman. Blueskin appeared as a countryman, was searched, and a chisel being found upon nis person, he was bundled out >>i the gates unceremoniously. The closest watch was kept upon every visitor, and before the doors were barred for the night Jack was searched, and his irons, locks and rivets were examined, so that no possible chance should be given for his escape, or even attempt at it. Extra warders were posted in the ante-rooms of the main entrance, and Master Perry, the chief warder or keeper of the Castle Cell, considered himself a match for a dozen Jack Sheppards, now that he and his fel-low-officers were fully warned of the sort of desperado they guarded and had full authority to manacle and chain him as they pleased. Wild had visited the lad, "and gloated over him, and bidden him prepare for Tyburn ; and Jack had responded with sneers and jests and scoffing, though he had made complaint of Wild's conduct, and Master Wild had been requested not to again enter the convict's, cell ; which Wild had resented, but without avail. He had counted too much on his recentjichieyement. The city authorities cared little or nothing about Jacobite plotters. That business had become stale; and they were jealous of the position and assumed authority of Jonathan Wild.,. It had long been shrewdly suspected that the City Marshal was untrue to his office and a traitor to the" State ; so that the reader will not be unprepared for the Tiews vouchsafed to Jack by Master Perry, his keeper. The lad had been successfully at work upon his handcuffs. Notwithstanding 1 the severity of the keeper's surveillance and the watchfulness of his assistants, Jack had contrived to secrete about his person a nail of considerable strength. Nor had it baen brought into the prison by any of his visitors. He had seen it, almost from the first hour of his incarceration ; its head a dull mark between two of the paving stones, close by the bench upon which he was seated. It had not , been necessary to secure it for obtaining relief from his handcuffs. He had a singularly narrow hand, and a small wrist ; but, on being ha-nd-cuffed, he would spread out his hand, making it as broad as possible, and complain of the tightness of the irons. Before the first night of his imprisonment in the Castle Cell was over, he had slipped his right hand through the iron bracelet, and satisfied himself tl«p» the other one was (jfuite as easy. Then his next hope was that the nail would be something more than th« head of one ; that it would be a long nail, and a strong nail. His next hope was the chimney. It was a strange oversight of the prison builder that in this strong room of Newgate he should have placed a fireplace ami a chimney. You will see it plainly drawn in the picture of - the manacled prisoner. You will hardly, I think, find it stated in. any of the histories of the time how the prisoner could possibly have unfastened his irons with a nail. In the play on^the stage, it did not appear, however, so strange as it does, if you think the situ- , ation out for yourself, and contemplate the picture of the lad, loaded with chains and bars and riveted to the floor. I did not understand it myself until rer j cerilly, on examining, the" chains, which are still preserved at Newgate, and having an explanation from an old and experienced officer, who pointed .out to me that to prevent the weight of -the anklets from frettng and wounding the flesh, they were lined with leather, and herein lies the secret of Shegpaid's successful manipulation of liis chains, which, after all, was no^ half so remarkable as what followed afterwards, as we shall see:' ', *■ "A prison's a devil of a place to set a fellow thinking," Jack was-^saying \o himself, tho day after Wild liad done for Sir Palbrick Brent. " Jack, my boy, if you get out of this, they ought to give you a medal or make you Inspector of Prisons! Where the deuce shall I put tlhat nail, now I've got it, when old Perry comes and mokes his* little search? Wonder if I steall do the blokes once more." Thfen he htonined his favourite ditty, and stopped to prod .aiway at the leather lining of his manacles. It has generally been represented that the. lad either picked the padlock or chopped and filed and prodded through one of the links of his irons. He did nothing of the kind. His experience of "slipping , the darbies" suggested to him that if he 1 could work out the leather lining of his anklets he oould also slip them in the same .way. He was engaged in this operation when the bolts and bars of the cell were being withdrawn. The noise was as good as a signal. If the keepers ha J been as cunning as they thought, they would have entered the cell at sudden moments, and noiselessly, if possible. Jack ait ones resumed his handcuffs, and continued ihis sin'gin S- * „ " Always singing or.talking to yourself," said tttia gaoler, entering with the prisoner's rations. > "It's go lonely on the days you don't admit visitors," Jack replied. "Well, a song's a good thing xa its way ; hut it ad'ii't no sort of substitute for dinnier." He placed a basin and.,piece of bread and meat upon, the bench. " You are such <a wise old Solomon, you are," said Jack. : "That's, more thbn I can say for you. You runs your head into the noose, as if you liked it," said Peary, laughing. A genial, pleasant old .fellow was Perry, not so old but tbast he .was lithe of limb, not so severe a keeper tJiaib he did not enjoy a jest; and he -was proud of being in charge ; of so illustrious a prisoner as Captain Sheppard. "Ah, now you hit the right nail on the head," Jack replied ; adding, Avith a •humorous smile, " You don't happen to have such a thing as a> mail about you, two or three inches long, eh?" ' > " No ; nor a file, ivcr a gimlet, nor a pair of pinfters. No good trying it on this time, m Y flue fellow ; you're done for at last ; make the best of it. Eat your soup, and say your prayers." "Let's try a hymn," Jack answered ; and began to sing the doleful ditty of Captain Hind. '"When Captain Hir.<3 goi into the cart, _No braver "man than he ; Ho quaffed his glass, and kissed ihis lass, On the way to the Tipple Tree.' '' " Oh, come, Captain Sheppard, dbn't be so. frivolous!" "It's the Sessions to-day, ain't it?" asked Jack. • "It is. A n( j such a Sessi-cne— more prisoners than we knows what to do with. ' bo busy as that?" „. «s ; and the City Marshal, Master «?^ n ' w as like to be one of 'em."

"Yes! Leastwise, he's suspended from his office. It's took him sharp in (the stomach, they say, and he be at his lodgings, mighty sick." " He was a poor fool." "And worse," Perry replied. "But, come, mop up your rations, and lei me go.'' " Can't you leave them?" "What? Leave you, a can that you'd turn into a file and gimlet and no end of things, like winking? Not if t know it." " All righ^. Gimme the soup." Jack kept his jfail well concealed in the palm of fflg -Jjahd. Perry raised the basin, and Jack #4s enabled to stoop down, so that he fcoulcl, hold it to-iiii lips. Ajs he was drinking the Hot lioo powerful liquid a dismal voice was heard singing the chaunt of the condemned; a custom of the time. " Now, all ye who in the condemned cell do . lie, , ■ ■, Prepare your eonls for to-morrow you must dje." - J " The Bellman's chaunt "Jof the condemned," said Perry, pulling off his cap and bending his head. " Watoh all, and pray; £he liour is drawing near Tha,t you Wore the Almighty shall appear. Examine well yourselves, in time repent, That ydu may hot io eternal flames be sent; Aid when St Pulchre's bell to-mprrow tolls, •The Lord have mercy on your souls!" Jack paused to listen for a moment, and then chimed in with his own defiant song, '"When Captain Hind got into lie cart, No braver man than he- — ' " "Jack! Jack!'* remonstrated Perry. " ' He quaffed his glass, he kissed his lass, On the way to the Triple Tree.' " continued Jack, and as he paused to partake of the bread and meat, the voice of the prison watchman itrailed off into the distance for the benefit of prisoner more soberly resigned than Jack. Dinner being over, the lad slipped the nail into his mouth, and, holding it in his cheek, found it ci little impediment to his speaking, though Perry noticed ia change. "Very stale bread, the Newgate loaf," said Jack; "takes me an hour to .get my proper voice back." ' "Ah, my fine captain, the day's comin' when you won't get it back at all, and it's a pity you don't think of it seriously." He stooped to examine the chains, manacles and fitments that held the prisoner, as he had done on each visit to the lad's cell. " Find the ornaments all right?" asked Jack. " Yes, lad ; more useful than ornamental. If you were free, all but the lock and staple, the rivets 'ud puzzle you." "Where's the chimney go to?" tasked Jack, turning his head in the direction of the fireplace. '"Cause why?" ' " That's the way I shall get out of Newgate this time ' When Captain (Hind got into the cart. No braver man than he ' " Jack found the nail rather an obstruction to life singing. He had forgotten it. for a moment. " Up the chimney— like old Mother Goose on a chimney-pot." " '■' " Just like that," said Jack. "Very well, captain. ! I'll keep a lookout on the chimney;" : "Terrible lonelyj" said Jack- "When shall you come again?" ' "At supper-time ; ain't that soon enough for ycu?" " I shall be up the chimney by then," "Ha, ilia, ha!" laughed Pern. "You're a merry lad, I will say that for you ; but perhaps it's as well to laugh while you can. Remember me to the Man, in the Moon ! The door closed, the locks and bars were fastened, and the prisoner was once more alone, and likely to remain so for hours. "The more you speak the truth," thought Jack, ' the less they believe you. Fate's deuced good to me, after all ; provides me with the very best kind of nail that's made has the Sessions on to make the officers busy, won t permit Wild to come here anymore whenever he likes, and last, but not least, has a chimney put into the .Castle Cell! ■ As he ruminated he worked away at the leather lining. "Poor old. Blueskin was right," he thought, and almost thought aloud " with [ the double trade of a locksmith and a carpenter at your fingers' ends you've got such an education as a cracksman it makes the art a perfect science." He dug away at the leather with untiring persistence. After an flour he fell back exhausted. Presently he returned to the work. Scraps of leather and dust began to j make quite a ring about the lad's right foot. He was working with his left hand, feeling that if he should have time to do no more than ' release one foot, he could the better work the way up the chimney with his right than with his weaker limb. Time wen£ quickly, he felt. He could hear the clock of St Paul's strike the hours, and the watchman make his rounds singing his chaunt once more, which only intensified the lad's eagerness to escape. At length his ankle began to make play. It no longer closely filled the anklet. He could move it easily, and he began to push it down towards his heel. With 1 three hours of hard work it was f ree - from the casing, and with some pain and a good deal of abrasion of the skin, his foot was free. He gave a deep sigh of relief, and, without a moment's rest, pegged away at the anklet on his other foot. In half the time that it had taken to release his right foot his left was at liberty. He stood upright and considered what he would do if Perry returned before supper. While he was considering, he examined the rivets of the chain about his waist. It was evident he could do nothing with them. If he escaped he would have to drag his cnains along with him. It only took him a few minutes to come to this decision. Otherwise, he was thinking, it would be a fine thing to gag Perry and chain him up in his place, lie sat down for a spell, and in response to the prison chaunt tried a stave of " Nix My Dolly." He pulled off his stockings. The prison authorities had no. fear of his hanging himself in his garters. They knew well enough he would never be able to unloosen his chains, or in. any way to* elude the vigi- ■ lance of his keepers. With his garters and j stockings he fastened his anklets and their ; chains to the links abouft his waist, nut on his boots, and walked. The lad hummed his Hind ditty triumphantly. It was true he seemed to do little more than hobble, but he moved about .the cell, examined it thoroughly, and came to the unshaken conclusion that his only chance was by the chimney. " Now, if I can only work my way to the roof, and thence to the street, which will be nothing short of a miracle, hang me if I don't get Page, the butcher; to file off these rivets, get a suit of togs at my lorfd Donnington's, and— — " His heart almost atood still. There was a noise at the door. It sounded as if Perry was about to, withdraw the bolts. He faced about, and, grasping the darbies in his right hand, prepared for the most desperate of contingencies. (To be continued.)